My first day back in the States, and my first procedure was a standard circumcision on a kid who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. He spent the entire time signing the consent forms while complaining loudly into his phone at his girlfriend. “It’s a minor surgery, babe. Was it really worth walking away from a ten-million-dollar closing just to fly back here?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “The house is already overflowing with the Birkins and the Rolexes you sent. Seriously, stop buying me things!” He slid the clipboard back to me. My eyes instinctively drifted to the emergency contact line. Joyce Blackwood. It was the same name as my girlfriend. I felt a small, ironic smile tug at the corner of my mouth. “Small world,” I muttered. “That’s my partner’s name, too.” The kid, whose name was Cooper Wells, looked at me with bright, almost manic eyes. He reached out and shook my hand. “No way. Hey, Doc, let me ask you—are all women named Joyce this obsessed? Like, borderline ‘stage-five clinger’ status?” He chuckled, leaning back. “I’m pretty sure I’m only in this mess because of her. She’s all over me, man. Every single night. It’s exhausting. I tried to sneak away to get this done without the drama, but she found out and insisted on flying back from London just to be here when I wake up.” I opened my mouth to defend my Joyce. I wanted to tell him that my Joyce wasn’t like that. She was poised, professional, and fiercely independent—a high-powered executive who valued her space as much as I valued mine. She was the “ice queen” of the corporate world, a woman of refined restraint. Then, Cooper turned his phone toward me, grinning as he showed off a photo of the woman who was “ruining his life” with her devotion. My heart didn’t just skip a beat; it felt like it hit a wall. Smiling radiantly on the screen, her arms wrapped tightly around this boy’s neck, was the woman I had been building a life with for the last five years. Joyce Blackwood. 1 My Joyce wasn’t clingy. She wasn’t an “obsessive” lover. In fact, in the bedroom, she was always measured, almost detached—as if she were checking a task off a very organized to-do list. But here was Cooper, prattling on, his “complaints” dripping with the smug satisfaction of a man who knew he was adored. “Anyway, Doc, the paperwork is done. We good to go?” I forced my features into a professional mask, though the skin of my face felt tight, like it might crack. “I’ll need your pre-op history and allergy files from your primary care physician before we can finalize the surgical suite.” He tapped his forehead, looking annoyed. “Dammit. I think I left those in the safe at home after our pre-marital physicals. I guess we’ll have to push the date.” I looked up, my vision blurring for a second. I had to swallow hard to keep my voice steady. “You’re married? You look… young.” He gave me a look of pure, boyish innocence. “Yeah. Last November twentieth. My twenty-second birthday.” He laughed, a sound that made my stomach churn. “She was so terrified of losing me. I was still in my senior year of college, and she practically dragged me to City Hall. She was convinced I’d run off if she didn’t put a ring on it. She even bought a townhouse right next to campus while I was finishing my degree just so she could be close. Total stalker vibes, right?” He playfully adjusted his expensive watch, acting like her devotion was a burden. Underneath the desk, my hands were shaking so violently I had to grip my knees. November 20th. That was the day my father died. I remembered it with agonizing clarity. I had called her dozens of times that day, desperate for her voice, needing her to hold me while my world collapsed. All I got was a text six hours later: “Mitch, I’m so sorry. I’m stuck in back-to-back meetings and can’t get away. I’ll make it up to you and your mom as soon as this deal closes. Hang in there.” She wasn’t stuck in a meeting. She was busy saying “I do” to a boy ten years younger than me. “Doc? You okay?” Cooper’s voice snapped me back. He stood up, looking slightly concerned. “Look, I’ll just head home and grab the files. My bad.” I stood up abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. “I’ll go with you.” He blinked, surprised. “Wait, really? Isn’t that… a lot?” “Not at all,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “We have an opening in the schedule this afternoon. Better to get it over with. For your health.” We walked down to the parking garage and got into his car—a customized Mercedes G-Wagon with a plush interior that screamed “new money.” Or rather, “her money.” On the drive, he couldn’t stop talking. He told me about the private islands they’d visited, the Michelin-starred restaurants where they had their first dates, the “naughty” details of their first time together. He spoke with a vibrant, arrogant energy that made me want to scream. I stared out the window, my mind a fractured mosaic of every promise Joyce had ever made me. We pulled up to a gated community on the Gold Coast. The Sterling Heights. It was the most expensive development in the city. Joyce and I had walked past these lots years ago, dreaming. We’d promised each other that one day, when we finally made it, this is where we’d build our home. I didn’t realize she’d already moved in with someone else. When he opened the front door of the villa, I froze. The interior design—the white oak floors, the minimalist slate fireplace, the floor-to-ceiling library—was exactly what Joyce and I had sketched out on napkins in a dive bar three years ago. “Did you design this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I wanted to believe it was a coincidence. A shared aesthetic. He handed me a glass of water, grinning. “Nah. This was all Joyce. She handled the whole build. It’s pretty sick, right? Look at this—she even put a little recessed charging nook next to the toilet because she knows I like to scroll through my phone in there.” I stood in the hallway, my fingernails digging into my palms so hard I thought I might draw blood. That nook was my idea. I had told her about it one winter night while we were eating takeout in our cramped apartment. I had shown her the blueprints I’d saved on my phone, explaining every little detail I wanted for our “forever home.” She hadn’t been listening to build a life with me. She’d been taking notes for him. Cooper led me upstairs to find the paperwork. As we reached the landing, a white toy poodle came skittering down the hall, yapping joyfully. “Hey, buddy!” Cooper knelt down, scooping the dog up. “Missed your daddy, huh?” The dog suddenly squirmed out of his arms and ran straight to me. It began franticly wagging its tail, jumping against my shins, whimpering with a desperate, familiar recognition. I stood there, paralyzed. I knew the texture of that fur. I knew that specific, high-pitched bark. Cooper laughed. “Man, he usually hates strangers. It’s like he knows you or something.” My throat felt like it was full of glass. “What’s his name?” “Oliver. He’s five.” Cooper patted the dog’s head. “Actually, I’ve only had him for two years. Joyce got him from some ‘relative’ who couldn’t keep him anymore. She said she didn’t want me to be lonely when she was traveling for work.” I let out a ragged breath that felt like a sob. Of course the dog knew me. This was my dog. My grandmother had given him to me before she passed. I’d raised him for three years until the day he “disappeared” from our backyard. I’d spent months looking for him, devastated. Joyce had held me while I cried. “Don’t worry, Mitch. I’m here. I’ll never leave you.” She hadn’t lost him. She had stolen him to give to her new plaything. Cooper pushed open the bedroom door and started rummaging through a desk. My gaze fell on a handmade calendar hanging on the wall. Joyce’s handwriting was unmistakable. Every square was filled with a list of chores: Laundry. Vacuuming. Prep Cooper’s lunch. Clean gym sneakers. “What is that?” I asked, my voice trembling. Cooper looked up and smiled. “Oh, that’s her daily to-do list. I’m a bit of a neat freak and I hate having a maid around, so she takes care of the house. She’s actually really dedicated to it.” I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. When we lived together, we had a cleaning service because she “didn’t have time” for housework. I was the one who did the grocery shopping, the one who washed her silk blouses by hand because she was too busy. For him, she was a tradwife. For me, she was a ghost. “Found it!” Cooper pulled out a folder and handed it to me. I flipped through the pages mechanically. Every signature on the “spouse” line was Joyce Blackwood. “Everything look okay, Doc?” I forced myself to breathe. “Fine. I’ll go back to the clinic and get this processed. I’ll call you with the time.” As I turned to leave, Cooper grabbed my arm. “Hey, don’t rush off. Look at the sky—it’s about to pour, and it’s almost dinner time. We’re practically friends now, right? Stay for a drink. Let my wife cook for you. She’s actually an amazing chef.” She can cook? In five years, I’d never seen her boil an egg. Before I could refuse, he’d pulled me onto the leather sofa and dialed her number. “Hey, babe. Where are you? Get your ass home and start dinner.” The voice on the other end was familiar, but the tone was all wrong. It wasn’t the cool, detached voice I knew. It was warm, indulgent, and breathless. “You brat. I’m at the hospital with nine hundred and ninety-nine roses waiting to pick you up, and you just vanished?” Nine hundred and ninety-nine. In five years, the most she’d ever given me was a dozen carnations on my birthday, ordered by her assistant. “Stop wasting money!” Cooper teased. “Just get home. We have a guest, and I want you to show off, Chef Joyce.” She laughed—a bright, genuine sound I hadn’t heard in years. “Yes, sir! I’m on my way. Be there in ten.” I sat on the sofa, staring at my hands. The roses. The hospital pickup. The “Chef” title. The laughter. These were all versions of her I had never been allowed to see. I couldn’t even imagine the Joyce I knew—the one who wore power suits and lived for board meetings—wearing an apron. I started to stand up, wanting to bolt, when a flash of lightning flickered outside. A second later, a massive crack of thunder shook the house. I flinched, instinctively reaching up to cover my ears. But the sound was muffled, distant. I looked around, confused. Cooper walked over, smiling. “Hey, you hate storms too? Don’t sweat it.” He pointed to the walls. “You could set off a bomb outside and you wouldn’t hear a thing in here. Joyce knew I had a phobia of thunder, so when she built the place, she had the whole house outfitted with industrial-grade acoustic insulation and triple-paned soundproof glass. It’s a tomb in here.” I sat back down, feeling like a fool. When I was a kid, I was in a car accident during a summer storm. Ever since, heavy rain and thunder triggered a visceral panic in me. I’d told Joyce about it. I’d sent her texts during storms, telling her how much I hated being alone when it rained. She used to laugh it off. “Oh, Mitch, don’t be a baby. You just want an excuse for me to come over, don’t you? I’m busy at work. Go to sleep. Goodnight.” I’d spent so many nights wrapped in a duvet, sweating and shaking, biting my knuckles so I wouldn’t cry out. She hadn’t thought I was being dramatic. She just didn’t care enough to quiet the world for me. Numbly, I reached for a glass of water on the coffee table. My hand slipped, splashing water over a stack of papers. “Dammit, I’m sorry,” I muttered, grabbing a napkin. “No big deal,” Cooper said, waving it off. “That’s old stuff anyway.” But my hand stopped mid-air. The header of the document caught my eye: OFFICIAL ACCIDENT REPORT. “You were in a car accident?” I asked. The format was hauntingly familiar. Cooper leaned back, nonchalant. “Not me. A cousin of mine. Drunk driving, hit some guy. It was pretty bad, actually. I was going to let the law handle it—I mean, he was wasted—but his family begged me to help. I mentioned it to Joyce, and man, that woman is a magician. I don’t know who she paid or what strings she pulled, but the whole thing just… went away.” He shook his head, almost impressed. “Her ‘problem-solving’ skills are honestly kind of terrifying.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a cold hand. “Can I… see that?” Cooper shrugged. “Sure. Knock yourself out.” I turned the page to the “Victim” section. My father’s name was written there in cold, black ink. The date. The location. Everything matched. But the report in my hand said “Minor injuries, victim refused treatment.” My father didn’t refuse treatment. He was dragged thirty feet. The driver had panicked and backed over him, crushing his neck. He died in the street, alone. I had spent a year screaming for justice. I’d filed appeals, hired private investigators, and fought every step of the way. But every door had been slammed in my face. My mother had been threatened. Someone had spray-painted “DROP IT” in red on our front door. Joyce had held me while I was hysterical, whispering, “Mitch, let it go. You can’t fight people this powerful. The system is rigged. Please, for your mother’s safety, just stop.” I had knelt at my father’s grave and apologized for being too weak to find his killer. I never imagined the person who buried the truth was the woman sleeping beside me. My face went pale, the blood draining away until I felt faint. Without Cooper noticing, I slid my phone out and recorded his voice as he continued to brag about Joyce’s “connections.” Then, I took a clear photo of the forged report. I sent the files immediately to my family’s old lawyer. I took a deep breath, forcing the rage back down into my marrow. I adjusted my expression and sat back just as the sound of the garage door opening echoed through the house. Joyce walked in, hidden behind a mountain of nine hundred and ninety-nine long-stemmed red roses. She didn’t see me at first. She walked straight to Cooper, tilted her head back, and kissed him with a hunger I had never experienced from her. Cooper pushed her back playfully. “Okay, okay, settle down, you animal. We have company. Go put those down and get to work. I’m starving.” Joyce nodded obediently, her eyes shimmering with a soft, adoring light. He took her hand and led her toward the living room. “Joyce, babe, let me introduce you. This is—” The words died in his throat. The roses slipped from Joyce’s arms, scattering across the hardwood floor like a bloody wound. In the silence that followed, I stood up. My voice was low, steady, and dead. “Hello, Joyce. I didn’t realize you’d gotten married. Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?”

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My boyfriend Robertson has an annual salary of $500,000. He said once he saved up $200,000, he’d marry me. But I waited from age 25 to 33, and he still hadn’t saved enough. The first year, he said he’d just started working and expenses were high, so he couldn’t save any money. The second year, he said he needed to buy a new car, so he had no money to marry me. All the way to the eighth year, he got completely drunk at a class reunion and asked me to pick him up. At the door, I heard a burst of mocking laughter. “If Elliot wanted to get married, forget $200,000—even if it was two million, Robertson would cough it up, right?” “Obviously! If Elliot hadn’t gone abroad back then, where would Elia even fit in? Forget $200,000—I bet if Robertson just played the victim card, she’d even pay him to marry her!” Robertson’s hoarse voice leaked through the crack in the door. “Stop it. Elia’s been with me for eight years after all. I will marry her eventually.” “It’s just that I’ve already worn her out completely. She’s not worth $200,000. At most, she’s worth one day of my salary—two thousand bucks.” With red-rimmed eyes, I called my mother, a top-tier matchmaker. “Mom, that handsome billionaire you mentioned—I’d like to meet him.”

Someone teased, “Two thousand? Robertson really knows his stuff—that’s exactly what the top girl at a nightclub charges for one night.” This remark triggered a wave of laughter. “If you ask me, even two thousand is overpaying. A woman in her thirties—how could she be worth the same price as a young, pretty girl?” “It’s only because Robertson is kind-hearted that he’s willing to marry her at all.” The mockery inside the door continued. “What’s said tonight, don’t let Elia…” Behind me, I seemed to hear Robertson’s slurred reprimand, but I couldn’t process a single word. I covered my face and hurried away from the bar. When I reached the entrance, an overwhelming wave of nausea surged up. I dry-heaved over a trash can. Yet my mind masochistically replayed those overheard words again and again. I couldn’t believe that the person I’d loved for eight years had only ever seen me as a cheap substitute. The night wind stung my eyes red. I couldn’t remember how I hailed a cab or how I got into it. A distinctive ringtone jolted me awake. I fumbled for my phone. A new message popped up in my pinned chat. “Babe, where are you? I feel terrible. Come pick me up.” Robertson was the picture of a rational elite in public, but in private with me, he’d act all clingy. I used to fall for that act completely. Now I just stared blankly, thinking— It seems Robertson really does love her. Even for me, his first love’s substitute, he’s willing to invest so much effort into performing. I didn’t reply. Instead, I made a phone call. Soon, a familiar voice answered irritably. “Why are you suddenly calling me?” The emotions I’d been suppressing for so long suddenly collapsed in the face of my closest person. “Mom, you were right. Robertson never intended to marry me…” “That guy you wanted to set me up with—I’ll meet him.” Before, when Robertson kept stalling on the wedding money, I hated nothing more than my mom’s nagging about marriage. Now, I desperately craved a new relationship to numb the pain of this one. “You’ve finally come to your senses! Don’t worry—I’m a top matchmaker. This one’s a rare catch. Robertson and all the rest can go to hell.” “But are you sure you’ve let go?” I smiled faintly. “Mom, you know I’m the most stubborn person alive. When I decided on Robertson, I could wait eight years for a promise. But once I’ve made up my mind to leave, I won’t hesitate for a second.” Some walls only need to be hit once. I hung up the phone and wiped away my tears. When I got out of the car, aside from slightly red eyes, there wasn’t a trace of vulnerability on my face.

In the early morning hours, half-asleep, a body carrying the faint scent of tequila wrapped around me. The man mumbled pitifully, “I stood outside in the wind for so long. Why didn’t you come pick me up?” It was as if everything I’d heard last night was just a hallucination, and Robertson and I were still an ordinary, happy couple. Until Robertson buried his head against my neck and murmured vaguely, “Elliot, you’ve finally come back…” I shoved him away awkwardly and fled to the guest bedroom. How pathetic you are, Elia, to be swayed by a little false tenderness. I stared at my reflection in the mirror—my face that resembled Elliot’s—and pinched my palm until it turned red. The next morning, Robertson came out of the kitchen wearing an apron, carrying a plate of heart-shaped fried eggs. When he saw me, the corner of his mouth curved upward. “Elia, come have breakfast!” On the bathroom counter sat a pair of couple’s toothbrushes—blue for me, pink for Robertson—nestled intimately together. I remembered when I handed Robertson the pink toothbrush. He’d scowled but obediently accepted it anyway. Eight years of affection carried too much weight. Little sweet reminders like this were scattered everywhere in this house. I splashed water on my face and collected myself. Sitting down at the table, I slowly stabbed the heart-shaped eggs on my plate into pieces. “Robertson, let’s break up.” The plate and fork collided with a harsh sound. The smile on Robertson’s face vanished instantly. “Elia, that’s not a funny joke.” I looked at him seriously and said it again. Robertson, who’d never frowned even when facing the toughest cases, showed rare emotional leakage. “You’ve been acting strange since yesterday. You didn’t pick me up. You didn’t wait for me to come home.” Robertson’s superior features darkened with anger. His hand, veins bulging, gripped my shoulder tightly. “Elia, what exactly are you trying to pull?” I didn’t want to admit I’d heard what he said yesterday. Those mocking words humiliated me. I shook off Robertson’s hand and went straight to the bedroom to grab the luggage I’d packed the night before. “Robertson, I’ve waited for you for eight years. I don’t want to wait anymore. It’s that simple. Let’s break up.” Robertson’s pitch-black eyes stared at me unblinkingly. He laughed mockingly. “Oh, I get it. You’re upset because I don’t have money?” “You’re practically menopausal, and you’re still playing hard to get? Isn’t it a bit late for that? Too bad—I’m not falling for it.” My heart stabbed with pain. He knew I was most sensitive about my age. I didn’t want to say another word. I shouldered my luggage and headed for the door. “Elia, within a week, you’ll come crawling back to me like a dog begging to get back together.” I closed the door, locking Robertson’s confident voice inside. Downstairs, I casually tossed my key into the trash can. I wasn’t some naive Natasha experiencing love for the first time. Since I’d decided to leave, I wouldn’t give myself the chance to turn back and humiliate myself again. Sitting in the car heading to the law firm, my mom’s message arrived right on time. “You actually know that blind date—Uncle Stephen’s youngest son, Nicholas. He’s a young entrepreneur. Want to set up a time to meet?” “Sure. I’ll go meet him after work.”

When I arrived at the firm, I submitted my prepared resignation letter. My boss looked somewhat surprised. “Elia, you’re very capable. Why resign?” I really liked the atmosphere at this firm, but unfortunately Robertson was a partner. I didn’t want any further entanglement with him. I smiled faintly without directly answering. “Personal reasons. Before the resignation process is complete, please don’t announce my departure.” When I left the office, there were cupcakes I loved on my desk, along with a cup of hot milk. My colleague Natasha teased with a smile, “Attorney Robertson brought them. He said you didn’t eat much breakfast.” Years ago I’d worked too hard and developed stomach problems. Robertson always remembered. Worried that takeout wasn’t clean, he’d personally cook three meals a day whenever he had time. Nutritious and tasty, he’d spoiled my stomach until it became finicky. A commotion pulled me from my memories. “Everyone, quiet down. Let me introduce our new colleague—Elliot. She just returned from abroad, an elite talent officially joining our firm today…” Applause rang out enthusiastically, but I just stared blankly as Elliot intimately linked arms with Robertson, the two of them smiling at each other. “What a handsome couple. They’re so well-matched.” “I heard Attorney Robertson personally requested that Elliot be his assistant.” “You guys don’t know—Elliot is Attorney Robertson’s first love. Attorney Robertson stayed single all these years because of her.” Natasha heard these comments and glanced at me awkwardly. Using his career as an excuse, Robertson had never made our relationship public. Only Natasha in the entire company knew. I handed her my breakfast and said flatly, “Want it?” After receiving a negative answer, I threw the breakfast into the trash. I felt in my pocket—only a half-melted chocolate remained. Robertson had prepared this in case my blood sugar dropped. I casually tossed it away and went downstairs to buy different breakfast. While waiting for the elevator, Robertson pulled me into a deserted area. He snatched the bread from my hand, frowning slightly. “You have stomach problems—you can’t eat things that are hard and cold.” “Stop throwing a tantrum. I’ll go buy you something else.” Before I could say “no need,” Elliot walked over. “Robertson!” Robertson instinctively pushed me away, explaining to Elliot as if to avoid suspicion. “Just an ordinary colleague. Not close…” Watching the two of them walk away, I silently picked up the bread that had fallen on the floor. My long-dormant stomach condition came back with a vengeance. I curled up against the wall, hurting so much tears came out, but this time there was no one to warm my stomach for me. Gently brushing the dust off the wrapper, I ate the entire breakfast mixed with tears, one bite at a time. By the time work ended, Robertson and Elliot still hadn’t returned. Colleagues teased with smiles, “Looks like we’ll have good news from the firm soon.” When I heard these words this morning, my heart still ached. Now, only a numb, dull pain remained. I finished my handover work and said goodbye to Natasha. She looked at me reluctantly. “Elia, don’t be sad. Robertson doesn’t deserve you!” I smiled and sent her a copy of my client list. “Hope you become a top attorney soon!” While waiting for the elevator, Elliot posted an ambiguous update on Twitter. Someone in the firm’s gossip group shared it, and the long-dormant chat instantly exploded. I didn’t look closely because my blind date had already arrived downstairs. I left the group and deleted Robertson’s Twitter. I walked toward the man holding flowers by the coffee shop. “Hello, I’m Elia.”

We were both in our thirties. Nicholas and I were going on this blind date with marriage in mind. Compatible conditions, good conversation, and both sets of parents knew each other well. After one date, just as Nicholas and I were about to make our relationship official, Robertson suddenly called. His voice carried the haze of alcohol and a fragile quality. “Elia, I feel awful. Can you please come get me?” Hearing that long-lost form of address, I momentarily spaced out. Robertson was five years younger than me. When we first met, he was still quite shy. “Elia, how do I revise this document?” “Elia, you’re amazing—you can win such difficult cases!” “Elia, will you be my girlfriend?” Seeing Nicholas’s concerned expression, I snapped back to reality and coldly refused. “No. I’m not available.” Robertson’s voice sounded very weak. “Don’t hang up. I’m at HAPPY bar, locked in a really cold, dark place. My phone’s dying. Only you can save me, Elia…” “Bang—” The sound of something heavy hitting the floor. The call disconnected. “Robertson!” I gripped my phone tightly, but there was no further response. Robertson had severe claustrophobia. Phone dead, no one around. If I really was the only person Robertson could contact, if something really happened to him because of me… I grabbed my bag and apologized to Nicholas. “It’s so late—let me drive you. I have a car. Your friend will be fine.” Nicholas showed no annoyance at being stood up. Instead, he gently comforted me. In the car, I clutched my phone, afraid of missing Robertson’s call for help. There wasn’t much traffic at night. We quickly arrived at HAPPY bar. The moment the car stopped, I anxiously jumped out. I called Robertson countless times. No one answered. My heart sank to the bottom. I was just about to call the police when I heard a familiar voice from a private room. “Robertson, will Elia really come?” “Don’t worry, Elliot. Elia is Robertson’s most obedient dog—guaranteed to come whenever called!” I pushed open the door. The laughter and noise cut off abruptly. When Robertson saw me, he smirked triumphantly. “I knew you couldn’t let me go!” He waved the game card in front of him. “Don’t worry—Elliot just lost at Truth or Dare. I helped her call someone, and I didn’t expect you’d actually be that free.” The worry from making countless unanswered calls, the heels of my feet rubbed raw from running frantically in high heels—all for one sentence: “I didn’t expect you’d actually be that free.” Elliot covered her mouth and giggled. “Sorry, I’ve been in a bad mood lately. Robertson wanted to cheer me up. Don’t take it personally, Elia. You really do have a talent for making people laugh.” She leaned intimately on Robertson’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming on call like that—just like a nanny. If you’re willing, I can pay you market rate.” A wave of knowing laughter rippled through the room. Robertson frowned slightly. “She’s not—” I cut off his words, lifted my head, and smiled at Elliot. “Sure. A nanny’s market rate is $6,000 a month. Eight years comes to $576,000 total. Transfer it to me.” Elliot’s smile froze. Tears squeezed from her eyes. The people who’d been jeering moments ago awkwardly shut their mouths. Robertson pulled Elliot behind him protectively, his face iron-dark. “Why are you making things difficult for Elliot over this little bit of money?” He pulled out his phone and operated it a few times. “Ding—” The money arrived. The notification that my resignation had been approved was also somehow already sitting in my inbox. I laughed mockingly at myself. He’d rather pay out $500,000 to bail Elliot out than spend $200,000 on wedding money for me. “Thank you, Attorney Robertson. I wish you both a happy marriage.” I hadn’t walked far when Robertson chased after me. “Elliot and I are innocent. Stop making a scene. Consider that $500,000 your wedding money. I’ll get our marriage license with you tomorrow, okay?” I dodged his hand and pointed at Nicholas waiting for me at the entrance. “Attorney Robertson, please keep your distance. My boyfriend is right there.”

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After Hearing My First Love Rafael’s Inner Thoughts, I Pulled My Investment When I was walking home with my first love, I suddenly heard his inner thoughts. [Claudia is so annoying, always insisting we leave school together every day.] [If I didn’t need her family’s resources for business, I wouldn’t even bother pretending to care about her.] [It’s pouring rain outside. I wonder if Giuliana brought an umbrella.] I froze mid-step. Giuliana—the beautiful scholarship student who just transferred here. Rafael stood before me with downcast eyes, his jawline tight and aloof. He clearly hadn’t spoken aloud, yet his voice continued to explode in my mind. [I heard Giuliana lives in the poor part of downtown. The roads there aren’t very good either.] [I’m really worried about her. I wish I could walk her home.] [If only I could find an excuse to ditch Claudia…] My footsteps halted. I felt momentarily stunned. Rafael lifted his eyelids, his expression cold and indifferent as he glanced at me. We’d known each other for years. I knew he was naturally distant and reserved, never good with words. I’d long grown accustomed to this way of interacting. But now, I seemed to see clear, unmistakable disgust in his eyes. Suddenly, a timid female voice came from the back door of the classroom. “Rafael, I… my umbrella broke.” I instinctively turned around. Giuliana was standing behind me, though I hadn’t noticed when she’d appeared. She clutched a broken floral umbrella in her hands, one of the ribs hanging down limply. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t bother you, but I’m afraid my textbooks will get wet…” She trailed off, then quickly glanced up at Rafael. Her eyes were red-rimmed, brimming with grievance and anxiety. She’d just transferred here last week and rarely spoke to other students. Her sudden request for help caught me off guard. After all, Rafael was notorious for hating to be bothered. He spoke and acted without sparing anyone’s feelings. But this time, after a moment’s thought, his low voice suddenly rang out: “Claudia, I can’t go home with you today.” “Since Giuliana lives so far away, I’ll walk her home instead.” Rafael’s expression remained ice-cold as always. If I hadn’t heard those inner thoughts, I might have actually believed this was a purely rational decision. “What about me?” I asked with a touch of mockery. Rafael frowned, then spoke: “Isn’t your driver waiting at the school gate?” “Just make do with her umbrella for now. Your house is close anyway—you won’t get wet for more than a few steps.” With that, he shoved Giuliana’s umbrella into my hands without allowing any refusal.

Seeing my silence, Giuliana’s expression filled with guilt and unease. She twisted the hem of her shirt with her fingers and spoke in a trembling voice: “No, how can Claudia use this broken umbrella…” “I’m sorry for causing you both trouble.” “Never mind, I’ll just run home.” She made as if to leave, but Rafael grabbed her arm. Rafael looked at me in silence, frowning, his thin lips pressed into a cold line. But his inner voice rang out in my mind. [Claudia’s definitely going to throw a tantrum again. I’m so sick of it.] [All her life, she’s just relied on her family’s power, thinking everyone should revolve around her.] [But I really don’t want to indulge her anymore. I like Giuliana—do I have to spell it out?] [Giuliana can’t possibly walk home in the rain…] I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe, as if something in my chest was slowly shattering. Before Rafael could speak, I voluntarily stepped back: “You two go ahead.” Rafael let out a relieved breath and turned to the side, his voice gentle: “Giuliana, give me your backpack.” Giuliana glanced at me hesitantly. Then she nodded obediently and ducked under Rafael’s umbrella. Before long, their silhouettes disappeared into the curtain of rain. I looked down at the ground. Then I tossed Giuliana’s broken umbrella by the back door and walked into the rain. At the school gate, Sargent’s car sat with its lights on. He froze for a moment, then quickly grabbed an umbrella and ran over: “Miss Claudia, why are you alone? Where’s Rafael?” “Let’s go home first.” I leaned back against the seat, my eyes stinging. When I got home, my mother’s face was full of worry. She dried my hair while chattering: “What were you thinking, child! Why are you soaked like this? Where’s Rafael? Doesn’t he walk you home every day?” “Look at you—your lips are completely pale! Your father’s still overseas on that business deal. If he finds out, he’ll fly back overnight…” “Mom.” I interrupted her with downcast eyes, my voice hoarse. “I want to go back to my room and sleep.” Her gaze lingered on my face for a moment. She didn’t press further, instead turning toward the kitchen to tell the housekeeper to prepare dinner for me. I changed my clothes and went upstairs. Behind the closed door, all sounds were shut out. But the scenes from earlier kept replaying uncontrollably in my mind. I thought of the faint smile that curved Rafael’s lips when he faced Giuliana. Then I recalled the way he looked at me—full of perfunctory dismissal and impatience. At this moment, I finally believed with certainty that those inner thoughts I’d heard weren’t hallucinations. So that’s how it was. Beyond using me, Rafael felt nothing but disgust toward me. We’d known each other for years. I’d thought he was naturally aloof, maintaining that cold demeanor with everyone. Only today did I see through it all. He wasn’t incapable of expressing emotion—he just despised me. In the quiet room, my phone suddenly rang. On the screen, the caller was Rafael.

The moment I answered, Rafael’s voice came through with an accusation: “Claudia, did you go home and tell your parents something?” “It rained so hard today. I was just walking Giuliana home. Did you really have to complain to my father about it?” His breathing came through the receiver—rapid and irregular. I rarely saw him lose his composure like this. “Rafael,” my voice was calm, “did you call just to blame me?” “Or do you think that as long as my family doesn’t ask, your father won’t find out what happened today?” Rafael fell silent for a moment. Over the phone, my ability to hear his thoughts seemed to fail, but I could imagine his annoyed expression. After a long pause, he finally spoke coldly: “Couldn’t you just explain things for me?” “In the end, you’re just throwing a tantrum, deliberately…” I took a deep breath and cut him off abruptly: “Rafael, why should I cover for what you did?” The voice on the other end stopped dead. I laughed coldly: “You think your father heard about this from me?” “Rafael, don’t you have any idea how many people your father has stationed around us to keep watch?” “After all, he knows better than anyone how many projects my family has handed over to…” A dull thud suddenly came from the other end of the line. Rafael spoke through gritted teeth: “Are you done yet?!” “What?” I continued. “If I don’t say it, does that mean it doesn’t exist?” All these years, there were things I never mentioned, but that didn’t mean I was unaware. Rafael’s family had many children and was a sprawling clan. Initially, Rafael was just the quietest, most unremarkable one. The Walker family had been established in San Francisco for three generations, and I was their only daughter—the sole heir to Walker Corporation. My parents doted on me and, by extension, looked after Rafael, my childhood companion. Because of this, the Harrington family business, which had teetered on the brink of bankruptcy multiple times, not only paid off its debts but also secured countless resources and projects. With the Walker family’s support, Rafael gradually earned recognition within his own family. The other end of the line went quiet for a long time, as if weighing pros and cons. After a while, Rafael finally spoke in a low voice: “Claudia, I won’t contact you for a while.” “Reflect on yourself properly.” His tone carried an air of fearless indifference. Before I could respond, he hung up. After that phone call, Rafael and I entered a cold war. I knew he was waiting for me to cave first, just like every other argument we’d had before. The cold war lasted three days. On my way back to the classroom, Giuliana came running straight into me. By the time I registered what happened, she was already sitting on the ground, clutching her ankle in pain. Students in the hallway stopped in their tracks, their gazes converging on us. From the crowd, a low male voice suddenly rang out. “Claudia, what are you doing?!” I looked toward the voice and met Rafael’s disgusted stare. Giuliana bit her lower lip, her voice weak: “It’s not Claudia’s fault. I was walking too fast.” [And she’s still making excuses for Claudia even now. Giuliana is just too kind.] [I only ignored Claudia for a few days, and she’s already taking it out on Giuliana. Still as spoiled as ever.] [Once I take over my father’s company, I definitely won’t let Claudia off easy.] Rafael’s face remained impassive, but his inner thoughts exploded like rapid fire in my mind.

I glanced at the students gathered around to watch the drama, my tone calm: “She’s the one who ran into me.” Rafael frowned: “Come on, what’s the point of making excuses?” “Did she sprain her own ankle just to frame you?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. I glanced at Giuliana’s aggrieved face and said flatly: “Yeah, because she knew someone would come running over like a dog to defend her without asking any questions.” The hallway fell silent for a moment. Giuliana looked up with grievance, sobbing softly: “Claudia, I know you don’t like me, but how can you insult Rafael like that?” “He was just trying to speak up for me…” Rafael clenched his fists, knuckles white with restraint. “Claudia, do you have to be this unreasonable?” “Looks like these past few days haven’t taught you where you went wrong.” I cut him off abruptly: “If you think I’m being unreasonable, then don’t associate with me anymore.” “I’ll tell my parents when I get home. You’d better prepare yourself mentally.” [There she goes again, using her family’s power to control me whenever she loses her temper.] [Ha, it’s all an act. If I give her the cold shoulder for a few days, she’ll come crawling back like always.] [Once she cools down in a couple days, I’ll make her apologize to Giuliana.] His inner voice laid out all his thoughts crystal clear. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care.” After a long pause, Rafael coldly dropped that single sentence. Then he bent down, slipped one arm under Giuliana’s knees, and lifted her into his arms. “Bear with the pain. I’ll take you to the nurse’s office.” He looked down at her, his voice gentle. Giuliana rested against his shoulder, tears still streaking her face. But the corners of her lips curled upward, and the look she gave me carried a hint of provocation. I ignored them and turned toward the classroom. My father finished handling overseas business and returned home that evening. The study door closed. He sat behind the desk and casually tossed a stack of documents onto the table. “Take a look. The Harrington family submitted these.” “That project on the east side of town—Rafael’s father has approached me several times, but I’ve held off on making a decision.” “Claudia, what do you think?” I understood my father’s attitude toward the Harrington family. All these years, Harrington Industries had relied on Walker Corporation’s resources and connections to gradually establish a foothold in the business world. My father had always been straightforward and forthright. He despised the Harrington family’s calculating shrewdness. In the past, I’d been infatuated with Rafael. Out of love for me, my father kept investing in and handing projects to the Harrington family. After all, back then, my father genuinely considered Rafael a future son-in-law. But after hearing about recent events, he’d clearly lost the patience to maintain that relationship. I looked at him calmly: “Dad, I was foolish before, but I’ve figured things out now.” “Our partnership with the Harrington family ends here.” He smiled faintly and pushed the stack of project proposals aside: “Alright, then we’ll do as you say.” “But I want you to remember—you’re my precious daughter, the future heir to this company.” “Claudia, you don’t need to bow your head to anyone.”

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I loved Leah Williams for twelve years. I gave her everything. A bullet from her brother’s true killer has been lodged in my spine for three years, causing me unbearable pain. Yet she treated the real murderer like family and me like a dog, forcing me to kneel and watching me suffer endless humiliation. Clinging to my last breath, I only wanted to give her the truth before I died. she pushed me into the abyss herself,smiling as she said I deserved it. Only when I cut open my own chest and dug out that blood-soaked bullet did she finally panic. And I no longer had the strength to look at her one more time. Silas POV I loved Leah Williams for twelve years. From the day the Williams family brought me back as a bodyguard at eighteen, I gave her everything. For these twelve years, I’d taken knives for her, drinks for her, and in that kidnapping case, I’d shielded her from everything. But now, I was just a dog at her feet, beaten and cursed at will. “Silas, kneel down.” Leah sat on the sofa, looking at me with eyes that held none of the love from years past. Only hatred. Standing beside her was the scholarship student she sponsored, and also her deceased brother Ethan’s best friend, Zane Sullivan. Zane wore a pair of limited-edition sneakers splattered with mud, looking at me with feigned innocence. “Leah, Silas was head of security after all. Making him clean my shoes seems a bit much. I can just wipe them with a tissue myself.” “What does he have to complain about?” Leah glanced at me, her eyes full of disgust. “When Ethan died, he said he’d spend his whole life making it up to me. Now I’m just asking him to clean a shoe. Do I need to beg him?” I stood there, the bullet lodged near the major artery in my spine throbbing with dull pain, pressing on my optic nerve and making my vision blur with double images. Whenever Ethan was mentioned, she lost control. I didn’t blame her. Because I also hated myself for failing to save Ethan. He was Leah’s own brother, and someone I’d desperately tried but failed to save. No one knew that shot wasn’t a stray bullet. It was deliberately fired by Zane, the man now sitting beside her, in the chaos. The only evidence was that bullet with its distinctive rifling marks. To keep Zane from destroying it, I’d forced myself to leave it lodged in my spine. It pressed on my nerves, making surgery impossible. Removing it meant death. Not removing it also meant death. I swallowed the metallic taste in my throat and offered no resistance, slowly bending my knees. I lowered my head and reached out to clean Zane’s shoes. My vision blurred again. A precursor to blindness. I gritted my teeth and used my sleeve to wipe the mud spots from the edges of Zane’s shoes. “What a good dog.” Leah looked down at me from above, her eyes full of revulsion. She pulled Zane up to head upstairs. “Zane, let’s go upstairs. Don’t let him ruin the mood.” “Okay, Leah.” As Zane passed me, his foot ground hard into the back of my hand. The pain pierced through me, but I didn’t make a sound. Only after I heard the door close upstairs did I collapse on the floor, gasping for breath. I fumbled in my pocket for that critical condition notice. Vital organ failure. Less than a month to live. Leah. When I’m dead and they remove that bullet, you’ll know the truth. In the middle of the night, the bullet in my spine began pressing on my nerves. The pain made me break out in cold sweat. I crawled up from the storage room and felt my way to the bathroom. My vision still hadn’t recovered. I could only see blurred gray shadows. I stumbled to the medicine cabinet above the sink, hands trembling as I searched for the heavy-duty painkillers. The doctor had prescribed them, saying they’d help me go more peacefully. Found them. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief, the weight in my hand disappeared. Someone had taken the pill bottle. “Silas, up in the middle of the night looking for candy?” Zane’s voice echoed eerily in the bathroom. I forced down the excruciating pain and reached out my hand. “Give it to me.” “Give it to you?” Zane laughed lightly, shaking the pill bottle in his hand. “These are prescription drugs with morphine, Silas. Taking too many isn’t good for the brain.” “Zane!” I gritted my teeth. “Give me the medicine!” If I didn’t take it, I’d die from the pain tonight. Zane walked to the toilet and, right in front of me, unscrewed the cap. He poured the pills into the toilet. “Oops, my hand slipped.” Zane turned around, a malicious smile on his face. “Silas, you don’t have many days left anyway. Just tough it out, right? Saves wasting resources.” Rage instantly overwhelmed the pain. I lunged forward and grabbed Zane by the collar, slamming him hard against the tile wall. “You’re asking for it!” “Help! Leah! Help!” Zane suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs. The door was kicked open and Leah rushed in. Without thinking, she raised her hand and slapped me across the face.

Silas POV The slap knocked my head to the side, my ears ringing, my already blurred vision growing even darker. “Silas! Have you lost your mind?” Leah shoved me aside and anxiously pulled Zane behind her, checking his neck. “Zane, are you hurt? Does it hurt anywhere?” Zane’s eyes reddened. “I just saw Silas wasn’t feeling well in the middle of the night and wanted to get him some water. But he said I was being fake and tried to kill me.” “I didn’t.” I endured the nearly fracturing pain in my spine, my voice hoarse. “He threw away my medicine.” “Enough!” Leah cut me off coldly, her eyes disappointed. “Don’t I know what kind of person he is? But you, Silas, ever since Ethan died, you’ve become twisted!” She glanced at the empty spot on the sink where the pill bottle had been and sneered. “Medicine? What medicine? I think you’re just having drug cravings.” I opened my mouth, but in the end could only close my eyes bitterly. What was the point of explaining? In her eyes, I was nothing but a lowlife who’d sell out her brother just to survive. “Since you have so much energy, go clear your head.” Leah pointed at the pitch-black rainy night outside the window. “Go stand in the yard. Don’t come back without my permission.” Zane hid behind her, revealing a triumphant smile. I took a deep breath, suppressing the blood churning in my chest. “Yes.” I braced myself against the wall to stand straight, trying not to let her see my trembling legs. I turned and walked into the pouring rain. The ice-cold rain pelted my body, the bone-chilling cold slightly easing the burning in my spine. I stood in the mud, facing Leah’s bedroom window. The lights blazed there. I could vaguely see Leah drying Zane’s hair, her movements so gentle it made my eyes sting. Once, that tenderness had belonged only to me. I couldn’t help touching my chest. Twenty-eight days left. Leah, I hope these twenty-eight days pass quickly. Even faster. I stood in the rain all night. Just before dawn, I couldn’t hold on anymore. Everything went black and I collapsed into the muddy water. When I woke again, I was in the hospital emergency room. I moved my fingers and found myself lying on a simple hospital bed with an IV drip in my hand. “Awake?” A cool voice came. Leah sat in a chair beside me, peeling an apple. She didn’t look at me, just focused on peeling the apple. “The doctor said you had low blood sugar and caught a chill. Didn’t manage to die.” She cut off a piece of the peeled apple, but instead of giving it to me, turned to hand it to someone on the next bed. Only then did I notice Zane was also in this hospital room. He wore a patient gown, his face ruddy, eating the apple Leah fed him with relish. “Thank you, Leah. So sweet.” Zane swallowed a bite of apple and turned to look at me with false concern. “Silas, really, you shouldn’t push yourself when you’re not well. Last night you collapsed in the yard. If Leah hadn’t found you early, you might actually be dead.” Watching this scene, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. I was the one who’d stood in the rain until I collapsed last night. But now, the one receiving care and concern was him. I spoke, my throat as hoarse as if I’d swallowed sand. “I want water.” Leah paused. She set down the fruit knife, pulled out a tissue and casually wiped her hands, sneering. “Water? Don’t you have hands?” “Leah, Silas still has a fever…” Zane offered fake advice from the side. “Let him burn to death for all I care.” Leah stood up, looking at me. “Silas, do you know what else the doctor said?” She walked to my bedside, her tone ice-cold. “The doctor said all your internal indicators are completely messed up, like you’ve been taking some kind of psychiatric medication long-term. So tell me, are you really having drug cravings?” My heart jumped. Had the doctor made up that lie to cover the inflammatory response caused by the bullet in my spine? Or had Zane already bribed the doctor? I looked at Zane. He was winking at me, pointing at the door. In that instant, I saw a figure in a white coat flash by the doorway. The attending physician Zane had bought off. “I’m not addicted to drugs.” I defended myself weakly. “You know the truth yourself.” Leah straightened up, the last trace of warmth disappearing from her eyes. “Silas, you disgust me. How could Ethan have idolized someone like you?” “Since you’re not dead, stop wasting money at the hospital. Pull out the IV and go buy Zane a sandwich. He didn’t get to rest last night because he had to bring you to the hospital.”

Silas POV I looked at the IV bag still more than half full overhead. It was antibiotics, life sustaining for my current condition. But I said nothing. I reached out and directly pulled the needle from the back of my hand. Blood immediately gushed out, dripping along my fingertips onto the white sheets. “I’ll go buy it.” I pressed the still-bleeding back of my hand and shakily stood up, gripping the bed frame. Everything went black again. I leaned against the wall, shuffling out step by step. Behind me came the sound of Leah peeling an orange, and her gentle murmur to Zane. “Eat slowly, don’t choke.” As I reached the door, I couldn’t help looking back. Leah was feeding a segment of orange into Zane’s mouth, smiling warmly. That smile I’d once dreamed of protecting. I turned and walked into the bustling hospital corridor. I leaned against the wall corner, gasping for breath, pressing hard on the old scar over my chest. Soon. Ethan, wait a little longer for me. Once I return this life to the Williams family, I’ll come to heaven and keep you company. On the anniversary of Ethan’s death. The sky was overcast and the cemetery very quiet. Leah held a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, standing before the headstone. I stood three steps behind her. This weather made my body ache more and more. I could only keep my back rigidly straight to keep from collapsing. Zane stood at Leah’s side. “Ethan, Leah and I came to see you.” Zane crouched down, his fingers brushing over the young face in the photo on the headstone, his voice choking. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Leah for you.” Leah’s eyes reddened slightly as she reached out to pat Zane’s shoulder, as if comforting him. I looked at the photo of Ethan smiling brilliantly. Three years ago, also on a rainy day like this, he’d gradually grown cold in my arms, calling out before he died, “Silas, run…” “Silas, you come kneel before Ethan too.” Leah suddenly spoke, her voice cold. “Make him kneel? As if he’s worthy?” Zane suddenly grew agitated, turning to glare at me. “If he hadn’t been such a coward, how would Ethan have died!” “Zane.” Leah stopped him, though her tone held no reproach. “Let him kneel. This is what he owes Ethan.” I said nothing and silently walked forward. My knees bent, falling heavily onto the hard stone pavement. I lowered my head deeply before the headstone. Ethan, I came to see you. Just as I was about to stand up, Zane suddenly cried out, “Ah! My foot!” He fell backward. Zane’s head hit the steps beside him, blood immediately flowing down. “Zane!” Leah’s face changed dramatically. She shoved me aside and rushed over to hold Zane. “What happened? Are you okay?” “Leah… I’m fine… Silas, I know you’re resentful. But how could you push me?” “I didn’t push him.” I knelt there, feeling only absurd. “Didn’t push him? So he fell on his own?” Leah whipped around, her eyes blazing with hatred. “Silas, you used to just be a coward, but now you’ve become this despicable! Attacking someone in front of Ethan. What kind of person are you?” “I really didn’t-” Slap! Another slap struck hard across my face. This one was especially heavy, making my ears ring and everything go black before my eyes. “Apologize!” Leah pointed at the blood-covered Zane and shouted, “Kneel and apologize to Zane! Until he forgives you!” I froze. Kneel to Zane? “No.” This was the first time in three years I’d defied her orders. “What did you say?” Leah looked at me incredulously. “I can kneel to Ethan. I’ll even kneel here until I die.” I raised my head, looking directly into Leah’s eyes filled with fury, my voice hoarse but firm. “But I will never kneel to Zane.” Because he didn’t deserve it. “Good. Very good.” Leah laughed in extreme anger. She stood up, her high heel grinding hard into my kneeling shin bone, crushing it with force. “Silas, since your bones are so hard, then keep kneeling here until you’ve thought things through!” She helped Zane up and walked down the mountain without looking back. “Leah, Silas he…” Zane was still pretending to plead for me. “Shut up! Don’t plead for this ungrateful dog!” Their figures gradually disappeared into the rain. In the vast cemetery, only I remained. The rain fell harder and harder, soaking through my clothes and chilling my heart. The excruciating pain in my spine mixed with the pain in my crushed shin, making everything go black before my eyes. I turned my head to look at Ethan’s smiling face on the headstone. I don’t know how long passed before the wound on my forehead split open, blood mixing with rain flowing into my eyes. I still didn’t kneel to Zane. I faced Ethan’s photo and once again lowered my head deeply. This time, it was for myself. When the time comes, I’ll repay you with this life and return the truth to you.

Silas POV That night, I didn’t return to the villa. I sat all night on a hospital bench. The wound on my hand was simply bandaged. At three in the morning, a violent coughing fit woke me. A metallic sweetness surged up my throat. I covered my mouth, coughing my lungs out. Opening my palm, I saw a pool of horrifying black blood. This was a sign my organs were beginning to fail. The bullet in my spine had compressed too long. Toxins had already invaded my bloodstream. My body was long past the point of collapse. “Mr. Sterling, you really can’t delay any longer.” The doctor on duty was a young man, not the one Zane had bribed. Looking at my examination report, his brow furrowed tight. “If we don’t operate immediately to remove the foreign object, you could die suddenly at any time. We must notify your family to sign immediately.” I smiled bitterly. I had no family. My only relatives were the Williams siblings. But now, Leah wished I were dead. “No need.” I pulled a pen from my pocket and on that flimsy critical condition notice, signed my own name. The handwriting was a bit crooked because my vision was starting to blur again. “I’ll sign myself.” The doctor froze. “But this surgery has extremely high risks, the mortality rate-” “I’m not having surgery.” I interrupted him, handing back the notice. “Just prescribe me those painkillers. Preferably something that keeps me alert.” Even if it was just a last burst of energy before death. I still had one last thing to do. Leaving the hospital as dawn was breaking. I called my old friend in forensic medicine, Nathan Cole. “Nathan, I need a favor.” On the other end, Nathan’s voice was groggy. “Early morning call, what’s up?” “In a month, I might be dead.” I spoke calmly. “When that happens, I need you to personally perform my autopsy.” Deathly silence on the other end. After a long while, Nathan finally cursed through gritted teeth. “Silas, what the hell are you talking about?” “I’m not crazy. There’s something in my spine. Only you can remove it, and only you dare tell the truth.” I looked at the rising sun, but felt no warmth. “It’s the truth about Ethan’s death. Nathan, I’m begging you.” After hanging up, I took a deep breath, pulled out my SIM card, snapped it in half, and threw it in the trash. When I returned to the villa, Leah was sitting at the dining table eating breakfast. Seeing me come in looking haggard, her hand holding the spoon paused. A flash of barely perceptible panic crossed her eyes, but was quickly covered by coldness. “Gone all night-getting bold, aren’t we?” She spoke coldly, her gaze falling on my bandaged hand, her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. “What happened to your hand?” I instinctively hid my hand behind my back. “Nothing. Just accidentally cut it.” “Good thing it’s nothing.” Zane came out of the kitchen carrying hot milk. Seeing me, he immediately put on a friendly face. “Silas is back? Perfect timing. The champagne spill from last night hasn’t been cleaned up yet. The cleaner called in sick, so I’ll have to trouble Silas.” Leah said nothing, just lowered her head to have her oatmeal. Tacit approval. I looked at the floor covered in glass shards and dried wine stains, nausea rising in my stomach. But I didn’t object. “Okay.” I agreed and turned to get the broom. The instant I turned, everything went black and I fell forward uncontrollably. Bang! My forehead slammed hard into the door frame. “Silas!” Behind me came the harsh sound of a chair scraping. Leah had almost instantly stood up, her voice carrying a tremor she herself didn’t notice. “What’s wrong with you?” I lay on the floor. It took several seconds before I could barely prop up my body. My vision slowly recovered a bit. I saw Leah standing two steps away from me, her hand extended in mid-air as if wanting to help me, but then rigidly pulled back. “Didn’t sleep well. My blood sugar’s low.” I supported myself on the door frame and stood up, forcing out an ugly smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t die.” Leah flinched as if stung. The panic in her eyes quickly faded, becoming hard again. “Who’s worried about you?” She sat back down and picked up her spoon, but didn’t take another bite. “Since you’re not dead, get to work. Stop being an eyesore here.” I nodded and took the broom toward the living room. Behind me, Zane said quietly, “Leah, look at him, acting like nothing happened. Definitely faking again.” Leah didn’t respond. But I could feel a complicated gaze fixed on my back. Leah, if one day you knew what kind of pain I endured while sweeping for you, would you feel even a little bit sorry?

Silas POV On the weekend, Leah had a sudden impulse to go to the equestrian club. Zane naturally accompanied her, and as her bodyguard, even with only half a breath left, I had to follow. The equestrian club was in the suburbs with beautiful scenery. Leah wore a sharp red riding outfit, her hair pulled high, looking spirited and heroic. That was her favorite look from before. Confident and bold, like a flame. “Silas, go bring my horse.” She flicked her riding crop, chin slightly raised. Her horse was a spirited black stallion that used to only respond to her and me. But these past few years my health had deteriorated, so I rarely touched it. Enduring the discomfort in my spine, I walked into the stable. For some reason today, my vision was very unstable, flickering between light and dark. When I led out Shadowwind, it snorted restlessly, hooves pawing the ground uneasily. I reached out to calm it, not noticing that someone had tampered with the girth under the saddle. It hung loose. “What’s taking so long?” Zane called from nearby. “Leah’s getting impatient!” I led the horse over. “Silas, I want to try riding Shadowwind today. Leah said I could.” Zane walked over with an innocent smile, reaching for the reins. The instant his hand touched the reins, something between his fingertips discreetly pricked the horse’s neck. Shadowwind spooked! It reared up on its hind legs with a shrieking whinny. “Watch out!” Almost instinctively, I lunged toward Leah, who was closest to the horse. In that moment, my world suddenly plunged into complete darkness. Not the blackouts from before, but true pitch darkness. I’d gone blind. I could only rely on what little hearing and memory remained to shield Leah in my arms, using my back to take a heavy kick from the panicked horse. The clear sound of bones cracking exploded in my chest. I grunted, a mouthful of blood surging from my throat and spraying onto Leah’s riding outfit. But I still held her tightly until the stable hands controlled the horse. “Silas! Have you lost your mind!” Leah pushed me away in shock, her face turning deathly pale at the sight of blood on her clothes. She frantically tried to check my injuries. Her hand had just touched my shoulder when she heard Zane’s scream from beside us. “Ow… my leg… it hurts so much…” Zane sat on the grass clutching his knee. In reality he’d only scraped it slightly while dodging. Leah’s hand froze. She looked at me, then at the wailing Zane. Finally, she bit her lip and withdrew her hand. “What happened? Can’t even handle a horse properly!” She stood up and hurried toward Zane, her tone anxious. “Zane, where are you hurt? Let me see!” I lay on the grass, my ribs likely broken and piercing my lung. Every breath carried a strong taste of blood. I tried to get up, but the pitch darkness made me lose all sense of direction. I reached out my hand bewilderedly, trying to grab onto something for support, but grasped only empty air. “Leah…” I called out instinctively. “Shut up!” Leah didn’t look back, examining Zane’s wound, her tone full of irritation and disappointment. “Silas, you’re truly useless now. Not just your body, but have you lost all sense of right and wrong too? Did you deliberately spook the horse to try to kill Zane?” I smiled bitterly, blood foam choking in my throat, triggering a violent coughing fit. “I can’t see…” I said softly, my voice so quiet only I could hear it. “What did you say?” Leah seemed to hear something and glanced back at me. “Silas, stop playing dead.” She commanded in a harsh tone. “Stand up. Don’t embarrass yourself here.” I listened to her voice, trying hard to focus, but couldn’t find her direction no matter what. Before I could at least see blurry light and shadow. Now, there was nothing. I felt around the ground, my fingers digging into the dirt, using the leverage to prop up my body bit by bit. “That’s right, Leah.” I still didn’t look at her, but faced the empty sky with a smile uglier than crying. “I’ve become blind.” “From now on, I probably really won’t be able to lead your horse anymore.” Leah froze.

Silas POV I didn’t go to the hospital about going blind. Or rather, it wouldn’t help even if I went. The damage was irreversible. Until three nights later, deep in the night. I was leaning against the headboard enduring the excruciating pain when the door was suddenly slammed open. “Silas! Stop playing dead, get up!” It was Zane’s voice. He grabbed my collar and dragged me off the bed. “Where…” I stumbled, completely unable to find my direction. “Leah’s been kidnapped!” Zane’s voice carried a weird excitement. “At the abandoned chemical plant in the west suburbs! They specifically asked for you to come alone to ransom her! If you don’t go, they’ll kill her!” Kidnapped? I tensed immediately, even my body’s pain suppressed. “Take me there.” I grabbed Zane’s wrist in return, with such force it made him cry out in pain. “Still so strong for a blind man…” Zane muttered, but didn’t break free. “Let’s go, the car’s outside.” The whole way, the car sped along. I sat in the passenger seat, gripping tightly the tactical knife I always carried. Even blind, this blade was part of my body. At the abandoned factory, the surroundings were deathly silent. “Leah’s inside, second floor, innermost room.” Zane pushed me out of the car. “Go in yourself. I’ll call the police.” With that, the engine roared away. I knew something was wrong. But I had no choice. As long as Leah was inside, even if it was hell, I had to jump in. I felt along the wall, relying on subtle air currents and echoes to move forward step by step. My ribs hurt with every movement, sweat soaking my back. “Silas?” From deep on the second floor came Leah’s terrified voice. “Leah!” I rushed toward the sound but tripped over debris on the ground, falling hard. “This was the top bodyguard back then? How’d he become such a pathetic wreck?” Mocking laughter surrounded me. Then came the dull thuds of clubs hitting my body. “Ugh!” I curled up, protecting my head and chest, gripping my knife tightly and using my hearing to judge their positions. Three on the left, two on the right. “Everyone freeze!” I suddenly lashed out, the knife precisely slashing across the wrist of the person on the left. A scream immediately rang out. Though blind, my hearing had become even sharper. “You really did go blind?” Leah’s voice trembled with disbelief. I had no time to explain. I felt my way to her side and cut the rope binding her hands. “Go! Hurry!” I pushed her toward the exit. “Think you can run? Not so easy!” Wind rushed from behind. I turned instinctively and spread my arms, shielding Leah behind me. Thunk! The sound of a blade entering flesh. A short knife plunged deep into my abdomen. The pain made stars burst before my eyes, but I gritted my teeth hard and didn’t make a sound. With a backhand strike, I stabbed the attacker’s shoulder. The scene descended into chaos. Just then, sirens wailed closer and closer. Hearing the police sirens, the kidnappers immediately scattered like birds. I clutched my bleeding abdomen, my body slowly sliding down the wall. “Silas! Silas, what’s wrong?” Leah finally broke free and rushed over to support me. Her hand touched my blood-covered hand and she screamed in terror.”You’re hurt… so much blood…” “It’s nothing… just a flesh wound…” I smiled weakly, wanting to reach up and touch her face to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but remembering my hands were covered in blood, I pulled them back. “As long as Leah is okay.” Zane rushed in with the police. “Leah! Are you alright!” Zane rushed over, shoving me aside to embrace Leah. “I just finished calling the police when I saw Silas sneaking around with these people… I knew it was him!” “What?” Leah froze. Zane pointed at me lying on the ground, his face full of righteous indignation. “It was him! He staged the whole thing! He was already fired by the Williams family and held a grudge. He wanted to use the hero-saves-beauty trick to gain Leah’s trust and extort money!” “These kidnappers are all actors he hired! I recorded everything!” Zane pulled out his phone, playing a heavily edited recording that sounded like me negotiating prices with those men. “No… that’s not…” I opened my mouth, trying to explain. Leah looked at me, her expression shifting from panic to disgust. “Silas, to make me forgive you, to get back into the Williams family…” “You actually gambled with my life?” “How long are you going to keep up this act? Getting yourself covered in blood just to make me feel guilty?”

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I once loved him for a full seven years. I loved him so much that even when his mistress pushed me off a building, I wouldn’t let him go. But he locked me in a psychiatric hospital and used electroshock therapy to strip away the last shred of my dignity. I cut open my brain, removed part of my hippocampus, and personally erased him from my memory completely. He held my “ashes” and went mad for three years, thinking I died in that car accident I staged for him. Until he traveled thousands of miles to Zurich and saw me living a radiant life. And I looked at him and only asked softly. “Sorry, who are you?” Polina’s POV When I woke up, I heard Ethan Harper on the phone, his voice gentle. “Lily, I’ve already suppressed the media coverage. No one will know you pushed her.” After hanging up, he met my gaze, his expression instantly turning cold. “You’re awake?” “Now that you’re awake, get this straight. Last night you slipped and fell on your own. Don’t say anything to the media. Lily scares easily, don’t frighten her.” She scares easily? If she scared so easily, she wouldn’t have pushed me off a building. I rolled down from a second-floor balcony and nearly died. And my fiancé Ethan Harper didn’t ask if I was in pain, but warned me not to ruin his beloved’s reputation. Last night, Ethan held Lily in his arms, kissed her forehead, and treasured her like a jewel. When I went up to confront them, Lily gave me a provocative smile, then suddenly leaned backward and grabbed onto my evening gown with all her strength. She was faking a fall, but dragging me into a real hell. “Ethan.” My voice was hoarse, and I couldn’t help but mock him. “Are you actually blind, or just pretending to be?” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Polina, enough.” “Lily had too much to drink and lost her balance. Instead of helping her, you want to make a big scene out of this?” “The Harper family’s stock price can’t withstand this kind of scandal. It’s time you showed some sense.” Lily was the Harper family driver’s daughter. The Harpers adopted her as a child, and she enjoyed all of Ethan’s favoritism. And I was the heir to the White family, his rightful fiancée. Just because I came from a good family, he assumed I could bear anything. Even when I was hurt, I didn’t need comfort. Because Lily came from nothing, he felt that even a slight frown from her meant she’d suffered a terrible injustice. When I waited for him to cut my birthday cake, he was riding the Ferris wheel with Lily at an amusement park. When I was humiliated and belittled by the Harper family board of directors because of our arranged marriage, he flew into a rage because a server made Lily wait one second too long. When my appendix ruptured and I crashed my car into a guardrail from the pain, he was running all over the city to get macarons from another district because Lily mentioned wanting them. Because I had family background and dignity, I deserved to suffer grievances. “What if I refuse?” I stared at him, asking each word slowly and deliberately. Ethan’s expression turned completely dark. He stepped forward and gripped the wrist where my IV was attached. The needle shifted in my vein, and blood instantly flowed back into the IV tube, shockingly red. Cold sweat ran down my temples. But he acted as if he didn’t see that tube of backflowing blood. His fingers tightened mercilessly, his tone ice-cold. “Polina, don’t push me. As long as you behave, the position of fiancée is still yours.” “Otherwise, don’t blame me for being heartless.” My wrist throbbed with pain. More painful than the bone-deep ache was the instant my heart died. Just then, the hospital room door burst open. His assistant rushed in frantically. “Mr. Harper! Lily is having a panic attack in the next room. She won’t stop crying, and the doctor says her condition is bad!” Ethan’s face changed instantly. He immediately let go of my hand, not even leaving a single instruction, and rushed out. I watched that section of red backflow slowly stain the transparent IV tube. The hospital room door slammed shut before my eyes. I pulled the needle out of my hand myself and pressed down on the bleeding puncture site. It really hurt. But compared to watching Ethan go insane over another woman, this pain actually cleared my head. I picked up my phone and pulled up that webpage I’d browsed late at night a few days ago. A neuroscience center in Zurich. They had a very special procedure. Removing a small portion of hippocampal neurons could completely erase someone from your memory. Before, I always hesitated, feeling that although these seven years were bitter, I couldn’t bear to forget them entirely. After all, I truly had loved him. But now, I felt there was nothing worth keeping. I clicked on the appointment portal and filled out the application form. In the reason section, I only wrote: I don’t love him anymore. Even if I became a person without a past, I would never be Ethan Harper’s fiancée again.

Polina’s POV I stayed in the hospital for half a month. During that half month, Ethan didn’t show up once. I heard the nurses gossiping that Mr. Harper had been incredibly busy lately, keeping watch in the VIP ward every day. Because Lily was terrified and could only sleep at night if someone stayed with her. As for me, his fiancée, only his assistant came once to deliver a fruit basket, along with a message that Mr. Harper was very busy recently. On discharge day, no one came to pick me up. I didn’t care. I called a taxi myself. Before getting in the car, my phone received an email from Zurich. The doctor said my application had been approved. The surgery was scheduled for early next month. That meant I had less than twenty days to handle everything here. When I returned to the Harper villa, it was already three in the afternoon. As soon as I entered, I smelled a sweet, cloying cream scent. The living room was lively beyond belief. They were hosting an afternoon tea party. Lily wore that pink dress originally custom-made for me, sitting in the center like a princess surrounded by stars. Ethan sat right beside her, carefully cutting a piece of cream cake, with patience and tenderness I’d never received in seven years. I wore the hospital gown I’d brought back, carrying a large bag of medicine, looking completely out of place. The lively conversation suddenly stopped. Everyone’s eyes turned toward me. Ethan looked up. The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” He pulled out a napkin to wipe his hands, his tone clearly displeased. I ignored him, changed my shoes, and headed upstairs. Since I’d decided to completely forget him, I didn’t even have the interest to argue with him anymore. But someone didn’t want to let me go. Nina held a wine glass and blocked the stairway. She was Lily’s friend, and notoriously snobbish in this circle. “Oh my, Polina’s back.” Nina wore a fake smile and pulled a jewelry box from her bag, shoving it into my hands without asking. “Lily was so badly frightened this time. Everyone’s giving her gifts to comfort her. You’re the one who caused this, so you have to personally give her this gift for the matter to be settled.” I was about to push it away when Nina pressed my hands down firmly, deliberately raising her voice. “Polina, so many people are watching. Surely you won’t refuse to give Mr. Harper this much face?” Ethan also looked over, his gaze pressing down on me heavily. “Polina, don’t make a scene.” I looked at him, then at the thing in my hands, and suddenly felt it was all rather pointless. I walked up to Lily with the jewelry box. “Take it.” Lily timidly glanced at Ethan before extending both hands to receive it. Just as I released my grip, her hands suddenly recoiled as if electrocuted. Crash! The jewelry box fell heavily onto the marble floor. A sharp sound. The contents had broken. It was a custom diamond necklace, now shattered into several pieces. “Ah!” Lily cried out, clutching her chest as she fell back onto the sofa, tears instantly flooding out. “I’m sorry… Polina, I’m sorry… I’m so clumsy, I didn’t catch it…” As she cried, she displayed the bandage wrapped around her wrist. “My hand hasn’t healed yet… It’s all my fault…” The socialites around us exploded. “Oh my God, that was expensive! Nina spent a fortune on it!” “Polina is so vicious! If she didn’t want to give it, fine, but why deliberately smash it?” “Exactly. So petty, can’t even tolerate an adopted daughter. What a disgrace to the White family.” Accusations and curses surged toward me like a tide. Ethan stood up, looking at me coldly. “Polina, apologize to Lily.” “I didn’t drop it.” I looked at him calmly. “She pulled her hands back herself.” “Enough!” Ethan cut me off sharply. “So many people saw it. You still want to deny it? Is this how the White family taught you to behave?” I looked at this man I’d loved for seven years and suddenly felt utterly disgusted. “No need.” I kicked aside the diamonds at my feet. “I won’t apologize. And I’ll vacate this place for you.” “I’m moving out.” With that, I ignored the uproar behind me and turned to go upstairs.

Polina’s POV I ignored the accusations behind me and went straight to the master bedroom on the second floor. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze. My vanity table was piled with unfamiliar bottles and jars. My skincare products had been shoved into a corner, and several bottles had been opened and used, their caps not even screwed back on. In the walk-in closet, several of my current-season gowns had disappeared, replaced by pink dresses still with their tags on, hanging brazenly in the most prominent positions. Even though I’d already decided to leave, seeing this scene made my stomach churn. Lily had long since reached into my private space. And none of this could have happened without Ethan’s tacit approval. I took out a travel bag and started packing. As for the jewelry, designer bags, and other things Ethan had given me, I didn’t touch a single one. Just as I zipped up my suitcase, the door was pushed open without a knock. Lily stood in the doorway, still holding the robe she’d taken from my closet. Seeing my suitcase, the triumph in her eyes was undisguised. “Polina, are you moving out?” She leaned against the doorframe, smiling. “This room has great lighting. Ethan said I’ve been in poor health lately and wants me to move in to recuperate.” I ignored her and pulled my suitcase toward the door. As I passed her, I said coldly, “Move.” But Lily suddenly changed her expression. She grabbed my arm, her voice instantly switching to a tearful plea, loud enough for the entire second floor to hear. “Polina, don’t leave! It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have made you angry. Please don’t go!” While crying and shouting, she dug her nails hard into my arm. The sharp pain made me instinctively shake her off. “Get off me!” I barely used any force. But Lily acted like she was made of paper, crying out and falling backward. This happened to be the landing at the top of the stairs. Her body tilted, and she rolled down. “Lily!” Ethan, who’d heard the commotion downstairs, rushed up just in time to see this scene. He practically lunged to catch Lily, then looked up at me. That look. Like he was looking at a murderer. “Polina, how can you be so vicious?” Someone nearby who hadn’t left yet laughed. “Who would have thought the White family heir had zero tolerance for others. No wonder the White family went bankrupt. Whoever marries her is doomed.” I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the Harper villa without looking back. That night I checked into a boutique hotel. My phone rang. It was Ethan. I answered, but it was Ethan’s grandfather, Victor Harper, on the other end. “Polina, have you finalized the wedding venue yet? I’m waiting to attend your wedding.” My throat tightened, and tears nearly fell. In the entire Harper family, only Victor truly cared about me. “Grandpa…” I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m not going through with this wedding.” There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. Then Ethan took the phone. “Polina, what are you making a fuss about now?” His voice remained arrogant. “What nonsense are you telling Grandpa? Where are you?” “I’m watching a TV show.” I made up a random lie. “Alright, stop being difficult.” “There’s a watch on my study desk. It was supposed to be an apology gift for you. Since you’ve left, come back and get it when you have time.” He hung up directly. The next day, his assistant delivered the watch to the hotel. “Miss White, Mr. Harper said this is a Patek Philippe he’s had custom-made for three years. It’s one of a kind. He asks that you stop being temperamental.” The assistant left after setting down the box. I opened it. It truly was an exquisite watch, with a full diamond dial, sparkling brilliantly. Ethan once said that time was the most expensive thing in the world, and his time belonged only to me. I took out the watch and turned it over. On the back, clearly engraved in script, was a line: For Lily. I stood frozen, then laughed out loud. What “custom-made for three years,” what “one of a kind.” This watch was originally meant for Lily all along. Ethan Harper, you truly disgust me. This so called devotion had been a love triangle from the start. I wiped away my tears and threw the watch back in the box. I took out my phone and permanently blocked Ethan. Then I called a luxury goods consignment shop. “I have several watches and pieces of jewelry to sell. I need cash quickly, the faster the better.” Selling this garbage, plus my savings, would be enough for the surgery fees in Switzerland. I wanted to dig everything about him out of my brain completely.

Polina’s POV The night I left the Harper villa, I contacted a luxury consignment store. I dumped all the jewelry Ethan had given me onto the counter. The owner, wearing gloves to examine the pieces, couldn’t take his eyes off them. “These are all excellent pieces. Especially this pink diamond. It was the Harper family’s auction item last year, wasn’t it? Are you sure you want to sell everything? You’ll take a big hit on the value.” “Sell everything. Buy them outright, don’t go through consignment. I need the money urgently.” I signed the papers and looked at the bank card now loaded with a substantial sum. Combined with my own savings from recent years, it would be enough for the surgery fees in Switzerland and living expenses afterward. After finishing all this, I found an inconspicuous hotel to stay in. I’d planned to wait quietly until surgery day and disappear completely. But Ethan clearly had no intention of letting me go. On the third afternoon, I was sitting on the hotel bed organizing visa materials when Ethan’s assistant suddenly called. “Miss White, Mr. Harper requests that you go to the private hospital immediately.” I didn’t hesitate before hanging up. “I’m not available.” Since we were done, I had no obligation to be at his beck and call. The other end paused, then spoke with some arrogance. “Mr. Harper said if you don’t arrive within half an hour, your mother’s special medication and caregiver fees at the nursing home will be immediately suspended by finance.” My hand shook violently, and the phone nearly slipped. After the White family went bankrupt, Mother couldn’t handle the shock and had a mental breakdown. She’d been staying in an expensive private nursing home ever since. It was her lifeline, and my only weakness. Ethan’s knife cut precisely where it hurt most. “I understand.” I hung up, grinding my teeth. Half an hour later, I arrived at the hospital’s VIP floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened, a strong smell of disinfectant hit me. Ethan stood at the end of the corridor, his face terrifyingly dark. Seeing me arrive, he said nothing, just strode over and grabbed my wrist. “Polina, how long are you going to keep this up?” He stared at me, his eyes looking at me like a criminal. “Lily’s severe depression relapsed. She just slit her wrists in there and is being resuscitated.” “Was it you who contacted the gossip media? Spreading rumors online to provoke her, saying she’s a homewrecker who stole someone’s position? Do you want to drive her to death?” He shook me until I felt dizzy. I only found it absurd. “Ethan Harper, have you lost your mind? I haven’t even left my room these past two days, and I haven’t been online.” “Still lying!” Nina suddenly rushed up, shoving her phone in my face, the screen nearly poking into my eyes. “Polina, the evidence is right here and you’re still pretending! All those gossip outlets say Polina White leaked the information! Who else could it be but you?” Just as I was about to speak, the hospital room door suddenly opened. Lily rushed out barefoot. Her hair was disheveled, her wrists wrapped in blood-stained bandages, her entire being in a state of hysteria. “It was you! You want to kill me! I’m not a homewrecker! I truly love Ethan!” She screamed, grabbed a glass water cup from the cabinet by the door, and hurled it at me with all her strength. I was being held tightly by Ethan’s grip on my wrist and couldn’t dodge. The glass smashed hard into my temple and shattered. Searing pain hit me. Warm liquid flowed down along my brow bone, instantly blurring my left eye. My vision turned blood-red. I swayed, barely able to stand. “Lily!” Ethan cried out, released me to catch the swaying Lily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” He held Lily protectively in his arms, soothing her gently. When he turned to look at me with blood all over my face, his eyes filled with disgust. “Go get bandaged!” He shouted harshly, “Don’t bleed here and frighten Lily, or I’ll make the White family pay the price!” I wiped the blood flowing into my eye with my hand. Looking at this pair before me, I suddenly didn’t want to explain anymore. There was nothing to explain. I was going to forget it all anyway.

Polina’s POV After treating the wound on my forehead, the nurse was about to bandage me. Ethan pushed the door open. Two bodyguards followed him, along with a doctor I didn’t recognize. The doctor held a report and looked at me with some sympathy. “Mr. Harper, based on the stress reaction just now and past medical history, Miss White has typical paranoid personality disorder, accompanied by severe persecution delusion.” “If not intervened immediately, she may pose a life threat to others.” I laughed. So in that earlier scene, my non-resistance was guilt, and my resistance made me insane. “Ethan Harper, what are you trying to do?” I stood up, still clutching the blood-stained gauze. Ethan didn’t look at me, only coldly instructed the bodyguards. “Take her away.” “I’m not going! Ethan Harper, this is illegal detention!” I struggled desperately, knocking over the treatment tray. But this only confirmed my supposed mania. Two bodyguards grabbed me from both sides, dragged me out of the emergency room, and shoved me into an SUV. The car didn’t return to the Harper villa but drove toward a fully enclosed private psychiatric rehabilitation center in the suburbs. It was a place specifically for confining disobedient people from wealthy families. I was taken into a padded room. No windows, no sharp objects, only a treatment bed with restraint straps. Ethan walked in, looking at me tied to the bed. “Polina, you’re ill.” His tone was calm. “The doctor says you have severe pathological jealousy. Your recent resistance, attempts to escape, and the attack on Lily just now are all symptoms of your condition.” “I’m not sick! You’re the one who’s insane!” I screamed, my wrists rubbed raw by the restraints. “I want to break up! Can’t I just stop loving you? Let me go!” “It seems quite serious.” Ethan shook his head, taking a document the director handed him. A forced medical custody consent form. In the guardian section, he smoothly signed his name. “Treat her. When she’s willing to admit her mistake, then stop.” The so-called treatment was actually electrical stimulation. The doctor placed cold electrode patches on my temples. “Ethan Harper! You bastard!” “Begin.” He turned his back, unwilling to watch my humiliation. The instant the current penetrated my nerves, the intense pain left me unable to even scream. It felt like countless needles were frantically stirring inside my brain, shredding my reason and dignity. I could even smell my hair burning. “Will you admit you pushed Lily?” he asked over the sound of the electrical current. I bit through my lip and said nothing. Increase the current. Three full days. I was injected with sedatives, lying in bed like a waste of space, even needing nursing staff assistance to use the bathroom. That shame of having my dignity as a human being completely stripped away hurt more than physical pain, driving me to despair. And in this despair, the last shred of love I had for Ethan Harper was finally uprooted completely and died. Three days later, I was allowed to be discharged. Walking out that door, the sunlight hurt my eyes so much I couldn’t open them. My face was deathly pale, and I needed to lean against the wall even to stand. Ethan stood by the car waiting for me. Seeing me come out, he walked over to help, his tone becoming gentle. “Feeling better? I did this for your own good. As long as you behave from now on and stop making trouble, this won’t happen again.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the deathly ash in them. I didn’t avoid his hand, but nodded numbly instead. “I understand.” Ethan smiled with satisfaction. Seeing me compliant, he confidently let go. “Have the driver take you home. Rest well.” He got into another car. Watching his departing figure, I dug my palm hard under my sleeve.

Polina’s POV The night I returned from the rehabilitation center, Ethan unexpectedly ate dinner at home. I sat across from him, quietly cutting my steak. This peacefulness pleased Ethan greatly. He poured me a glass of red wine, his tone like rewarding an obedient pet. “There’s a charity auction gala tomorrow night. You’ll attend as my date. The rumors outside haven’t been good lately. We need to make an appearance to dispel the gossip about your mental instability.” If this were before, I would have thrown the wine glass in his face. But now I only set down my knife and fork and nodded. “Okay.” Ethan looked at me with some surprise, then walked over and patted my head. “Good girl. As long as you stay this sensible, Lily won’t hold your previous misunderstandings against you.” The next evening, the banquet hall was resplendent. I wore the dress Ethan had chosen, sitting quietly in a corner. Even when people around me pointed and whispered, calling me a lunatic who’d just finished psychiatric treatment, I didn’t even raise an eyelid. Until Nina walked over with a glass of red wine. She was Lily’s friend and still held a grudge about the broken necklace incident. “If it isn’t Polina? I heard you just finished psychiatric treatment?” Nina deliberately raised her voice, drawing everyone’s attention. “Why so quiet? Did the electroshock therapy make you stupid? Or have you forgotten who the real master of this circle is?” Seeing I wouldn’t respond, a flash of malice crossed Nina’s eyes. She pretended to walk past, then flicked her wrist. A glass of red wine splashed directly onto my dress, running down my thighs. “Oops, my hand slipped.” Nina covered her mouth, laughing without sincerity, waiting for me to lose it. “Polina won’t be angry, will she? You’re a mental patient now. If you go crazy and hit someone in public, they’ll have to take you back for more treatment.” She wanted to provoke me, to watch me make a scene in front of everyone. But I only looked down at the wine stain on my dress, my face showing no emotion. I didn’t even furrow my brow. “It’s fine.” I picked up a napkin from nearby and wiped the wine that had splattered on the back of my hand, my tone as calm as discussing the weather. “It’s just a dress. When it’s dirty, you throw it away.” Just like some people and things that had become dirty. Nina froze, making herself look like a clown. Ethan, who’d been observing from a distance, walked over. He saw this scene, but he didn’t blame Nina. Instead, he seemed satisfied with my reaction. He put his arm around my shoulder, saying quietly, “Go change. Well done.” He thought it was calmness after treatment. Only I knew it was numbness after my heart died. Where he couldn’t see, my nails had dug deep into my palm, but I felt no pain. I could feel the countdown ticking away in my mind. Late at night, Ethan went to shower. From the hidden compartment of an old stuffed animal no one noticed, I retrieved the backup phone I’d hidden earlier. It was my only escape route. The screen lit up. An email from the Swiss neuroscience center lay there quietly. “Miss White, your surgery appointment is confirmed. Please be sure to arrive in Zurich on time.”

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After the explosion, I escaped to a border town and opened a flower shop under a new identity. Everyone thought I died in that explosion. For two years, my gravestone has been spotlessly cleaned every single day. Until today, when a customer walked into my flower shop. The person who pushed open the door was an old friend of mine. She stared at me in shock, asking why I hadn’t gone back if I was alive. She also said Kael had been guarding my grave for two years and nearly committed suicide. Kael was my ex-husband, the Alpha heir of the Dubois pack. He had a childhood sweetheart. Her parents died fifteen years ago saving Kael’s mother, Luna Raven, during a Rogue attack. After that, Talia became Kael’s foster sister. After I married Kael, she began targeting me. The first time, she locked me in a burning building. I barely escaped by breaking through a window, my entire body covered in burns. Kael brought in the best specialists, pulled me back from death’s door, and helped heal my skin. The second time, she conspired with several Rogues to ambush me on my way home. I was beaten within an inch of my life. Kael rescued me and captured those Rogues, punishing them severely. She harmed, he rescued. Over and over again. Until the last time. Talia bought a potion from a witch and created a massive explosion. My entire body was blasted, my lungs critically injured. As they lifted me onto a stretcher, I used every ounce of strength to beg Kael to report this to the Wolf Council. He knelt down and gently shook his head. “Alicia, Talia didn’t mean it. Her parents died for my mother.” “For my sake, can you let it go?” In that moment, my heart died completely.

The next day, I woke up in the hospital, and the first thing I did was call Luna Raven. I knew she’d never liked me. My voice was terrifyingly calm. “I agree to divorce Kael.” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Luna Raven responded decisively: “Good that you’ve come to your senses. I’ll have someone send over the papers. Just sign them.” Not long after I hung up, a lawyer appeared in my hospital room, mechanically handing me a divorce agreement. Tears blurred my vision as memories of Kael flooded back uncontrollably. In our three years of marriage, he’d been considerate and gentle, taking care of everything. But when it came to anything involving Talia, he never had any boundaries. The first time we met, Talia locked me in a house engulfed in flames. Later, with burns covering my entire body, it took multiple healers to restore my skin. Crying, I begged Kael to hold her accountable, but he just held me and said, “Alicia, Talia was just careless. She’s not a bad person. I’m just glad you’re okay.” From then on, time and again, countless acts of harm were all brushed aside by him. The lawyer took the signed documents with relief. “Alicia, once the divorce is finalized, I’ll deliver it personally.” After he left, I was alone in the hospital room. Before long, the door was pushed open again. Talia walked in holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, smiling brightly. I trembled all over, instinctively shrinking back. “What are you doing here?” She casually tossed the flowers on the floor, her smile radiant yet venomous: “To send you off personally, of course!” “The explosion didn’t kill you, so I’ll have to do it myself.” Then she lunged onto the bed and grabbed my throat in a death grip. I struggled desperately. But having just survived severe burns, I was no match for Talia, who trained regularly. The air in my lungs rapidly depleted, and darkness closed in on my vision. Just as my consciousness was about to fade, the doctor making rounds burst in, screaming: “What are you doing! Stop!” In the chaos, I used my last bit of strength to grab the doctor’s hand. “Call… call the Wolf Council…” Then I blacked out completely. When I woke up again, Kael’s dark face filled my vision. He was suppressing his anger. “Alicia, why did you report this to the Wolf Council? Talia’s been taken away by them!” My heart felt like a sharp blade had been driven through it, the pain suffocating. “She just tried to strangle me to death!” Kael frowned. “I’ve told you before—Talia’s parents sacrificed themselves for my mother. She’s wounded inside but not fundamentally bad. She would never actually want you dead…” “Not actually want me dead?!” I cut him off sharply, three years of fear, grievance, and rage exploding all at once: “She locked me in a fire! She conspired with Rogues to ambush me! She created an explosion that did this to me, and just now she tried to strangle me!” “Which time wasn’t an attempt on my life? If that doctor hadn’t come in, I’d be dead! Don’t you understand?!” Kael sighed and reached out to hold me. I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me! This time I won’t back down. I will make sure she faces legal consequences!” Kael was silent for a moment, then his eyes grew resolute: “Talia and I grew up together. She’s just been spoiled and become willful. I’ll strictly discipline, criticize, and punish her.” “But I will never let her be imprisoned by the Wolf Council and have her life ruined!” Before I could react, his assistant stepped forward and placed a document in front of me. “Sign this, we’ll let bygones be bygones, and things can go back to how they were.” I stared at the glaring words “Settlement Agreement” and felt utterly absurd. “I won’t sign it!” “Talia lost her parents young and has never faced hardship like this. She can’t handle a place like prison.” “Alicia, be good.” “I said I won’t sign!” I practically shouted. The next second, the assistant roughly grabbed my arm and twisted it hard! “Ah!” Searing pain shot through my entire body. He forced my hand to sign the settlement, then pressed my finger into ink and stamped it down quickly! Kael stood nearby, watching quietly. Drenched in sweat, I looked up at this man I’d loved for years, my voice weak: “Kael… you’re doing this to me for her?” He turned to his assistant and instructed: “Call the doctor. Use the best medicine. Get her hand treated and take good care of her.”

Kael didn’t show up for the next few days, only sending a few messages daily. [I’ve been swamped with pack business lately, can’t get away.] [Don’t be mad. When you’re discharged, I’ll take you to the countryside to relax.] [Does your hand still hurt? Take care of yourself.] But right after each text arrived, Talia’s messages would follow. All photos of Kael by her side. Pouring her water, massaging her shoulders, even using that self-defense knife he never let me touch to peel an apple for her. That night, lying in my hospital bed, I suddenly felt an indescribable pain in my body and heart. The pain kept me from sleeping. Sensing something, I called Kael. The phone rang for a long time with no answer. After I hung up, Talia’s message immediately arrived. [Hehe, guess what we’re doing?] Below was a video. Just the thumbnail radiated an intensely intimate atmosphere. My hands trembling, I opened it. In the video, Talia was disheveled, flushed, leaning against the headboard. She suddenly got up and tightly wrapped her arms around Kael’s waist from behind, pressing her heated body against his broad back. “Kael… don’t go… I feel terrible… that wine… was too strong…” “If you leave… something bad will happen to me… please…” Kael’s steps halted abruptly. He looked back at Talia’s hazy eyes. Finally, he gritted his teeth and hung up on my call. He turned and helped Talia back onto the bed. “I can only stay until morning.” The video then plunged into darkness, with only a low growl and Talia’s satisfied soft laughter. I felt frozen to my core, clutching my phone, stubbornly dialing Kael’s number. All night long, over four hundred calls. Kael didn’t answer a single one. Not until the next day, when dawn broke, did I receive a few words: [I was handling an emergency pack situation last night.] I twisted my lips in a sardonic smile. So his “emergency situation” was having sex with another woman. The day I was discharged was my birthday. Kael personally came to pick me up and threw me a birthday party at a restaurant. The banquet hall was exquisitely decorated, and he stayed by my side the entire time. After cutting the cake, he gently fastened a custom-made pure gold necklace around my neck. It drew countless envious looks. But all I felt was that necklace pressing on my chest like a mountain. Midway through, I couldn’t breathe and got up to go to the restroom. Just as I reached the hallway corner, Talia blocked my path. “Well, well, if it isn’t tonight’s happiest woman, Alicia?” She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her face full of mockery. I didn’t want to deal with her and turned to leave, but she quickly stepped forward to block me. “Kael values you so much—throwing you a party, giving you such an expensive necklace. You must be feeling pretty smug, right?” “But last time when you reported me to the Wolf Council, didn’t he force you to sign a settlement and get me out?” “Do you know how much Kael can’t live without me? We’ve been through everything together over the years! And yet you still shamelessly cling to him. Tell me, shouldn’t I hate you?” These words were like poisoned blunt knives, repeatedly torturing my already shattered heart. My face went pale. I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. But she wouldn’t let it go, suddenly grabbing my hand, her nails digging into my flesh. “You didn’t die last time. Let’s see if your luck holds this time!”

As soon as she finished speaking, two burly werewolves emerged from the shadows in the hallway, grabbed me from both sides, and dragged me without question into an empty room on the top floor! I struggled in terror, but my strength was nothing against them. Talia’s eyes were vicious yet triumphant: “Alicia, since Kael likes you, I’ll destroy you completely! Let’s see if he’ll still want a mate who’s been ruined!” A sleazy-looking man walked toward the bed with a lecherous grin. I fought desperately, drowning in despair. Talia even pulled out her phone, ready to record everything! Just as that disgusting hand was about to touch my clothing, the door was kicked open with a bang! Kael stormed in like an enraged beast, radiating terrifying violence. Seeing me on the bed, restrained and disheveled, his eyes blazed with fury. With one clean shoulder throw, he instantly slammed the man approaching me to the ground. The guy didn’t even have time to scream before passing out. “Alicia!” He rushed over, released my restraints, and held me tightly in his arms. “Don’t be afraid! I’m here! It’s okay now…” The terror of narrowly escaping and overwhelming grievance burst through my defenses. I broke down crying in his arms. He scooped me up, carefully wrapping me in his coat, preparing to leave. As he passed Talia, his steps paused, his eyes cold: “Talia! I’ve tolerated your willful behavior before for your parents’ sake, but you dare use such despicable methods to hurt my wife!” “If anything had happened to Alicia today, I would never forgive you!” Talia was frightened by the undisguised killing intent in his eyes and stepped back, then shrieked as if wounded: “What are you going to do! Send me to prison?” “Fine! Kael, if you want my life, I’ll give it back to you right now!” With that, she unexpectedly pulled out a knife and thrust it toward her own chest! “Talia—!” Kael’s face went deathly pale. Almost instinctively, he dropped me and shot toward Talia like lightning! Caught off guard, I was thrown onto the cold, hard floor. My injuries were aggravated, sending waves of pain through my body. I struggled to get up, only to see Kael frantically carrying a blood-covered Talia and running out the door. I walked to the window and watched Kael rush out of the building carrying Talia, jump into his SUV. The engine roared violently as the vehicle sped away. Not once did he look back at me. I collapsed on the cold floor, watching the direction the car disappeared, my heart filled with nothing but endless desolation. Finally, I steadied myself, slowly stood up, and walked home alone. Kael had also returned. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so hard it felt like he’d crush my bones: “Talia’s bleeding internally. You’re the only nearby match for her blood type!” My vision went dark, blood rushing to my head. “No! Kael, have you lost your mind! Why should I save her?” But he gripped my arm tightly, his eyes pleading: “Alicia! Talia tried to kill herself because of what I said. I can’t let her die! She’s still young! Donating some blood won’t hurt you much. I’ll get the best doctors to help you recover and make it up to you tenfold later, okay?” I resisted hysterically, but in the end, he dragged me into the operating room and pressed me onto the surgical table! “Kael! I hate you!!” Before the anesthesia took effect, my cries became my last conscious memory.

When I woke up again, it was the next day. Kael was keeping watch by the bed. Seeing me open my eyes, he immediately came over: “Alicia, you’re awake?” He pulled out various expensive nutritional supplements, vitamins, and gifts, but I just stared numbly at the ceiling, my eyes vacant. That day, while Kael went out to buy me porridge, the recovered Talia snuck into my room. “Well, well, if it isn’t my lifesaver?” “Alicia, you’re so pathetic—unconscious for so long! Nearly all the blood in your body was transfused to me. Thanks to you, I survived.” I felt nothing but disgust and said hoarsely, “Get out.” She glared at me viciously. “A blood bank acting all high and mighty!” With that, she stormed out angrily. Shortly after, Kael burst into the room, immediately accusing me: “Alicia! Why did you bribe a nurse to poison Talia’s medication?!” I was baffled. “What?” “Talia said! You hate that I forced you to save her, so you bribed a nurse to add poison to her medicine, causing her to have a severe toxic reaction. She just barely survived the emergency room!” His tone was stern, filled with unquestionable accusation. “I didn’t!” Finally unable to take it anymore, I sat up abruptly, tears streaming down my face as I screamed: “Kael! I’ve had enough! Really had enough! You always only believe her! Always favor her! I was nearly killed by her! I’m covered in injuries!” “And you?! Besides forcing me to sign settlements, forcing me to donate blood, forcing me toward death, what have you ever done for me?!” “Your love makes me sick! Absolutely sick!” Kael froze. The door opened, and Talia leaned against the frame, her voice tearful: “Kael, you promised me! You said you’d hand her over to me for three days!” Kael looked at the weak Talia, intense struggle flashing in his eyes, but ultimately he agreed. “These three days, you cannot endanger Alicia’s life. That’s the bottom line!” “Don’t worry, I just want to teach her a lesson. I won’t kill her.” Talia immediately promised. I looked at him in disbelief. Kael was actually voluntarily handing me over to be tortured, just to appease Talia?! “Kael! You dare!!” I tried to get out of bed in terror. Talia waved her hand, and two burly men in work clothes entered, unceremoniously dragging my weakened body from the hospital bed. “Kael! Save me! No! I don’t want to go!” I cried out desperately, reaching toward him. But he just clenched his fists, stood in place, closed his eyes, and remained unmoved. For the next three days, I was held by Talia in a remote abandoned factory. She used every method to torture me. Whipping, sleep deprivation, forcing me to consume vomit—she exhausted every means to humiliate my body and dignity. Not until I was tortured to the brink of death did she stop and have someone dump me like garbage back at the emergency room. I don’t know how long I was unconscious. When I woke up, the doctor breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake! We almost lost you! You need to notify your family to come.” He returned my phone. As soon as the screen lit up, I saw an encrypted message from Luna Raven: “The divorce is finalized. Leave Kael quickly.” Thinking of Kael’s obsessive personality, I dialed Luna Raven’s private number and pleaded hoarsely, “Please help me forge a death certificate and use an unclaimed female corpse to replace me.” “If I suddenly disappear, Kael will definitely use every resource to search the world for me. Rather than endless entanglement, better to let him think I’m dead—a clean break. Also, I need you to find me a witch. I need to sever the mate bond with Kael.” Raven was silent for a moment, then finally relented. “Follow my people. I’ll handle the rest.” Under Raven’s arrangement, I left through the back door and headed straight to the airport. Meanwhile, Kael stared at his watch. The moment the three days were up, he immediately called Talia, his tone urgent: “Three days are up! Where’s Alicia? I warned you—no fatalities!” Talia’s voice was aggrieved. “You miss her that much? Don’t worry, I sent her back to the hospital.” Kael immediately drove over. Just as he reached the operating room door, the light went out. The doctor removed his mask and shook his head heavily. “Sir, I’m sorry for your loss. The patient was tortured beyond recognition, injuries too severe. We did everything we could.” Then a gurney covered with a white sheet was wheeled out. Boom—! Kael felt a roaring in his ears, his mind instantly blank. He violently pulled back a corner of the white sheet. “No—!!!”

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Before my wedding to Alpha Liam, he slept with another woman. He explained to me, “She’s the mate the Moon Goddess destined for me. She has an irresistible pull on me. You understand, don’t you?” “Don’t make a fuss. At least you’re the only one I’m willing to Mark.” I smiled and nodded, then turned around and slept with his friend Chase, deliberately letting him find out. But Liam just calmly pushed open the door and sat down beside us, asking mockingly, “How does it feel?” Chase got off me. “Not bad, just a bit awkward.” “Liam, have you never trained her? Her movements are way too stiff.” My carefully planned revenge was nothing but a joke to him. He didn’t care at all. I completely broke down and was sent by Liam to a correctional facility on a deserted island to learn how to become “normal.” He didn’t know that there were no doctors there—only a group of lunatics who took pleasure in tormenting Omegas. A year later, Liam came to pick me up, but by then, I no longer loved him. The facility administrator pushed the door open. “Ellie, Alpha Liam has completed your discharge paperwork. You’re free to go.” I nodded numbly. As I walked out of that gray building, I could still hear the whispers of a few staff members behind me. “Poor thing, driven to this state by her fiancé.” “What’s so pitiful about it? Her fiancé is a top-tier Alpha—handsome and rich. He just has a mistress. She should’ve just turned a blind eye. She really doesn’t know how to appreciate what she has.” A year ago, words like these would have made me hysterical. But now, they couldn’t even make me pause. Outside in the clearing, Liam stood waiting for me beside a helicopter. I walked up to him. He raised his index finger, wanting to touch my face. “You’ve gotten thinner.” I tilted my head slightly, dodging him. His hand froze in midair for a moment before he withdrew it. He pulled open the cabin door. “Get in.” Climbing into the helicopter, the first thing I saw was a piece of exquisitely crafted women’s lingerie on the seat. Liam followed my gaze, froze for a moment when he saw the lingerie, then picked it up and casually stuffed it into his coat pocket. “My assistant is so scatterbrained. Don’t mind it.” I smiled but didn’t reply. That lingerie style was typical of that woman named Serena’s taste. It seemed that before coming to pick me up, they’d done something in this helicopter. But it didn’t matter. I stopped caring long ago. As the helicopter took off, Liam’s fingertips tapped lightly on the armrest a few times before he spoke. “I’ve cut things off with her completely. I threw out all the bedding in the bedroom and replaced it with a new set—the style you like.” “Mm.” I responded lightly. He continued, “I had the maids dust all your things every day. Nothing’s gotten dirty.” “Thank you.” I smiled faintly. Liam turned his head to look at me, something dark and unclear flickering in his eyes. He pulled out a small red velvet box from his pocket. “I had the ring reordered. The diamond’s bigger than before. Want to see if you like it?” I didn’t take the box. Instead, I said, “About the wedding—let’s forget it.” Liam didn’t take my words seriously and just tossed the box into my lap. “Enough with the tantrum. I slept with her, and you slept with my friend. We’re even now.” “Besides, I’ve kept the position of my wife for you all along. You’re a werewolf who can’t even shift, yet you get to become the Luna of Shadow Fang Pack. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?” I stared at the small box in my hands, didn’t argue, just smiled bitterly. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was just going home. It wasn’t as prosperous as this place—just the old territory of a fallen Pack, where my mom and dad were buried. But there was no Liam there. No pain. The helicopter landed on the rooftop helipad. Everything here remained unchanged. I didn’t walk into the bedroom that belonged to me and him. Instead, I dragged my suitcase toward the guest room. Liam blocked my way. “What’s the meaning of this?” “I got used to sleeping alone at the facility.” I turned to glance at the room that once belonged to me and him. “And besides, I don’t want to sleep in that bed anymore.” On the day I discovered he’d slept with that woman, I checked the surveillance footage and found out it wasn’t just once. He’d once promised me he would never accept the mate fate assigned him, that he would only ever love me. Yet after rejecting Serena in front of me, he secretly installed her in the villa. He slept with her almost every month. Even that bed specially customized for me bore traces of them. When I saw that scene, my heart ached so much I couldn’t breathe. Liam stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t overdo it. You always pull this stunt, then end up begging to move back in anyway.” I watched his retreating back, but the heartache I used to feel didn’t come. It seemed the “correction” at the facility really worked. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have my heart beat for him, to have my emotions rise and fall with his. Late at night, accustomed to the hard plank bed at the facility, I couldn’t get used to sleeping on this soft, plush bed anymore. During the year I spent at the facility, Liam didn’t come to see me even once. I would always cry and beg the administrators, threatening to hurt myself to make them let me call him. Once, twice, three times… When the call connected, I would cry and beg him to come see me, or at least say a few words to me. And he would only respond in that icy voice devoid of any emotion: “Ellie, reflect on yourself properly. When the time comes, I’ll naturally come get you.” Gradually, I grew numb and finally stopped wanting to call him.

Feeling thirsty, I got up and went downstairs to get water. But I saw Liam on the balcony, talking on the phone. His voice wasn’t loud, but I could hear clearly. “Mm, tomorrow’s auction—bid on whatever you want, don’t worry about the price. Be good. I’ve been a bit busy lately, so I can’t always be with you.” His tone was doting. That tone used to belong only to me, but not anymore. I stood quietly behind him with my water glass, listening for a while. Finding it uninteresting, I turned to leave. But then I heard, “Ellie? When did you come down?” He’d already hung up the phone. “Just now…” He wanted to explain, but I cut him off. “I was thirsty, just came down for water. Continue what you were doing, don’t mind me.” He walked toward me, reaching out to grab me. But I’d already turned and headed upstairs ahead of him. At the staircase landing, I saw from the corner of my eye that his gaze followed me the entire time. The next day at breakfast, Liam poured me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. This was his habit. Every time, I would drink the entire glass, and he would watch me with a gentle smile. But this time, I didn’t touch the orange juice. Instead, I poured myself a glass of warm water. His smile froze on his face, but he said nothing. Liam got up, grabbed his coat, and headed out. “I need to go out for a bit.” “Okay,” I replied. He stopped at the door and looked at me. “Nothing you want to ask?” I paused for a moment. Indeed, if this were before, I definitely would have interrogated him thoroughly. Asked him what he was doing, how long he’d be gone, who he was with. I didn’t know when it started—when I became so insecure, so afraid of him leaving me. Fortunately, not anymore. I spoke, my tone flat. “No.” Liam stood there for a few seconds but ultimately said nothing. After he left, I got up and went to my room to pack. Actually, there wasn’t much to bring. The clothes I wore at the facility—I didn’t want to take them. Seeing them would only remind me of those painful memories. I put the photo of me with my mom and dad into my suitcase. And a hardcover notebook—the “reflection journal” I was required to write at the facility. I flipped through it. Each page was only allowed one sentence. [Called him again today. 180th time. He only said to reflect.] [Today’s “correction” really hurt.] [I miss Mom and Dad so much. No one loves me anymore. Now even he’s bullying me.] [It’s my birthday today. No one remembers.] [Haven’t thought about him for three days now. The administrator says I’m almost normal.] I closed the notebook and tossed it into the trash. Liam returned quickly and wanted to take me to a party. I was brought to a makeup room upstairs at the venue to touch up my makeup. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear him talking with friends in the hallway outside. “Liam, how are things with her?” It was Chase’s voice. Liam’s voice was calm. “Fine.” “She seems much more obedient now—just sits there quietly. When she saw me, she didn’t even react. I thought she was going to go crazy again.” Chase continued, “But seriously, hasn’t Serena been getting a bit too showy lately? She bid on a sky-high diamond ring at the auction today without batting an eye. That’s one thing, but she’s been going around telling everyone you gave it to her.”

Liam’s voice came through. “As long as she’s happy.” “Aren’t you afraid Ellie will find out? She finally got back to normal. Don’t let her turn crazy again and start cutting herself with knives and stuff.” Liam replied, “If she finds out, she finds out. She’ll throw a tantrum for a while, then behave. Same routine every time. Doesn’t she get tired of it?” Casual. Matter-of-fact. “Honestly, Ellie’s so much easier on the eyes now that she’s not making a scene. Liam, after bringing her back, did you ‘train’ her?” “Enough.” Liam’s voice turned cold. The hallway fell silent. I sat before the makeup mirror, letting the makeup artist do her work, my heart calm. After finishing my makeup, I went downstairs. Chase approached first, walking up beside me and looking me over with a smirk. “Ellie, you’re looking much better. If you have any ‘needs,’ you can still come find me, you know.” I didn’t respond. He sat down on the armrest of the sofa next to me. “Honestly, I still remember that night last year.” “Looking at you now, you’ve lost so much weight. I wonder if you still feel the same as you did back then.” I remained expressionless. He sneered. “No wonder Liam got tired of you. That cold face, like a wooden plank—no fun at all.” Finally, Liam walked over and looked at me. “Stay with me. You’re my fiancée. Understand?” “What time does this end?” I asked him. He seemed puzzled, as if unsure why I was asking, but answered anyway. “Eleven.” My flight was at midnight. So I nodded, agreeing. Chase’s face showed an amused smile. At the party, Liam took me around to socialize, introducing me to others. Actually, he didn’t need to introduce me. That scandal from years ago had caused such an uproar that everyone remembered I was once a lunatic who slept with her fiancé’s friend. Then I’d gone crazy, cutting myself with a knife, forcing Liam to send his mistress away. Finally, I was sent by Liam himself to the island correctional facility. Those people put on smiling faces for Liam, but when they looked at me, their eyes held something else—like pity. I smiled politely, not caring. “Liam.” Serena’s saccharine voice rang out. She walked naturally to Liam’s side and linked her arm through his. “Thank you.” As she spoke, she deliberately raised her hand to brush back her hair. The enormous, blindingly brilliant diamond ring on her finger drew even more attention. Liam’s expression remained unchanged. He even smiled gently at her. “As long as you like it.” As if I didn’t exist at all. I felt a bit nauseous, so I withdrew the hand that had been linked through Liam’s arm. “I’m going to the restroom.” Liam whispered in my ear, “If you really want to make a scene, wait until we get home. Don’t do it at this kind of event. Understand? Come back quickly.” I hummed in acknowledgment, then went to the restroom and threw up. I vomited until I was dizzy. In my daze, I remembered the times at the facility when the administrators would force my mouth open and make me swallow pills to “calm me down.” Fortunately, I wouldn’t be “disobedient” anymore, and I wouldn’t be force-fed pills again. I walked out of the restroom. Passing by a terrace, I saw Chase smoking. Seeing me, he started talking. Chase blew out a smoke ring. “Are you just putting on a brave front? Jealous again, aren’t you?” “That Serena really is something, deliberately wearing that ring out to show off. She’ll be thrilled if she drives you ‘crazy’ again later.”

I walked straight past him without replying. I returned to Liam’s side. Liam looked down at me, satisfaction in his eyes. He smelled of Serena’s perfume, and there was a trace of her lipstick on his neck. No need to guess what they’d done while I was gone. But none of it mattered anymore. I glanced at my phone. Half an hour until ten o’clock. Liam leaned down and whispered in my ear, “About the wedding—we’ll hold it next month. I’ve looked at a few venues. Tonight when we get back, I’ll have Beta Jordan send you the information so you can choose.” I looked at him. “I already told you—forget about the wedding.” His voice carried a warning. “There’s a limit to throwing tantrums. I’ve told you, I’ll only marry you. What more do you want from me? Do you want me to beg you?” He was getting impatient, mistaking my indifference for another tantrum. “I don’t want anything from you,” I said. “I’m just not marrying you anymore.” “Enough.” His voice turned cold. “Do I need to send you back to the island before you’ll wake up? Don’t be ungrateful.” I took a deep breath. “You still think I’m throwing a tantrum, don’t you?” “What else would it be?” He let out a cold laugh. “Isn’t it all because of Serena? Getting mad at me—how many times has this been now?” I wanted to say that I really didn’t care anymore. But before I could speak, Serena walked over again, holding a glass of red wine. She walked quickly. As she approached us, she suddenly exclaimed “Oh my!” and the entire glass of wine spilled precisely onto the front of my light-colored dress. “Oh my God! Ellie, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Look at me, so clumsy…” She apologized loudly, but her voice held no real sincerity. Instead, she successfully drew everyone’s attention. Liam frowned but first comforted the supposedly startled Serena. Then he looked at me, soaked and frozen in place, his gaze cold, his tone clearly displeased. “What are you standing there for? Don’t embarrass yourself here. Go take care of it yourself.” With that, he put his arm around Serena’s shoulder and turned toward the lounge. Chase’s gaze landed on me like a spotlight, full of amusement and anticipation of a good show. If this were the old me, I would’ve already lost it and started attacking people. But now, I simply said calmly to the nearest server, “Could you take me to the changing room, please?” Chase clapped his hands and approached, looking me up and down. “Damn, Ellie, which facility did you go to that’s so effective? You can endure being treated like this?” “Are you really changed, or are you planning an even bigger counterattack?” “I have to say, this version of you is way more pleasant than when you used to throw tantrums. Liam might actually go for this. Very clever tactics.” I ignored them and simply followed the server outside. Behind me, Chase’s voice rang out. “You’re really just going to change clothes? Not waiting for Liam to come back and coax you?” I didn’t pause or look back. I didn’t go to the changing room. Instead, I went straight to the entrance and said to the doorman, “Could you call me a car, please?” I went back to the villa first to get my already-prepared small suitcase, then headed to the airport. I boarded the plane and put my phone on airplane mode. I slept for what felt like a long time. When I woke up, I’d landed. I turned off airplane mode. Almost instantly, my phone began vibrating violently.

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I bought a secondhand laptop online. When I opened it, the wallpaper was a full nude photo of my fiancé, Lachlan. I was stunned. Was this fate bringing something that belonged to him back to me? Just as I was about to call Lachlan to ask what was going on, the seller frantically started calling me: “I made a mistake! I sent you my boyfriend’s laptop by mistake!” “There are really important work files on that computer—don’t touch anything! I’ll send you the correct laptop right away. I’ll cover the shipping!” Listening to the sweet, delicate voice on the other end of the line, my heart instantly sank. When did Lachlan get another girlfriend besides me? After hanging up, I forced myself to calm down, my fingers trembling as I moved the mouse. Apart from that wallpaper, the desktop was suspiciously clean—just one folder labeled “My Treasure.” Lachlan had once created a folder with that exact name for me, filled with photos of us from childhood to now. My heart pounded wildly as an absurd thought exploded in my mind. Was Lachlan cheating on me? The thought only lingered for a second before I crushed it. Because I knew perfectly well that even if every man in the world cheated, Lachlan would be the exception. After all, we were childhood sweethearts who grew up together in the same neighborhood, watched over by everyone. He loved me—loved me enough to remember my period every month and have hot milk ready in advance. Loved me enough that the passwords to his phone, computer, and all his social media accounts were my birthday. Besides, our wedding was only two weeks away. This had to be a misunderstanding. I took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the inexplicable panic rising in my chest. Double-click. The folder opened. What appeared before my eyes were intimate photos of Lachlan with an unfamiliar girl. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly, like lightning striking me, the shock making every organ in my body ache. I looked through them one by one. Every single photo mocked my self-deception. Lachlan really was cheating. And I had been lost in the joy of soon becoming his bride. How ridiculous. I don’t know how long I sat there in a daze before I finally calmed down. The first thing I did was open my phone and book a flight to Paris in seven days. That was the dream destination I had once given up to be with Lachlan. Now, I was going to pick up my paintbrush again and pursue the artistic dream that had been shelved by love for too long. Next, I packaged all those disgraceful photos from the computer and sent them to my best friend, Zoey. Zoey’s call came through immediately, her voice full of shock and fury: “Harper! That bastard! Just wait—I’m getting people together right now to destroy him!” I interrupted her, my voice terrifyingly calm: “No need. Saturday, at our families’ engagement party, I’ll handle it myself. I need your help with something. I’m going to give Lachlan a big gift.” Just as I finished speaking, Lachlan’s voice suddenly sounded behind me, his tone light and tender: “Harper, guess what I brought you?” He was carrying cream puffs from my favorite shop. When he saw my face, the smile on his face instantly froze. “Harper? What’s wrong? Why are your eyes so red?” He dropped the bags and quickly walked over, reaching out to hug me. I instinctively dodged. I opened my mouth, my voice sounding dry and unlike my own: “Lachlan, you…” Just as I was about to tear away this layer of false warmth, his phone rang abruptly. Lachlan instinctively glanced at the caller ID, and his expression changed instantly. He quickly pressed silent and flipped the phone face-down on the table, his movements so fast it seemed like he was hiding something. “A… telemarketer,” he explained, his tone somewhat unnatural. But I had seen it. The moment the screen lit up, the caller ID showed “Quinn.” Watching him panic while trying to maintain composure, I found it unbearably ironic. I looked up at him and asked softly, “Lachlan, do you love me?” He looked stunned by my question, then laughed and affectionately tapped my nose. “Silly girl, why ask that? If I don’t love you, who would I love?” I stared into his eyes, asking word by word: “What about Tara Quinn? Do you love her too?” Tara Quinn—that was the seller’s name.

The doting smile on Lachlan’s face crumbled inch by inch. He stared at me blankly. After a few seconds, he finally found his voice, tinged with disbelief. “Harper, what are you talking about? Where did you hear that name?” Within just one second, that familiar face had taken on an expression of hurt and helplessness. He reached out to touch my face, his voice low and aggrieved: “Harper, Tara Quinn is a new intern in my department. There was a problem with a project today, and I just helped her out.” The wounded look of being falsely accused was perfectly calibrated. If I hadn’t seen those photos with my own eyes, I would have thought I was being unreasonable. He tried to pull me into his arms, his voice softening even more, as if coaxing a child throwing a tantrum. “Is the wedding stress getting to you?” “Don’t overthink it. After fifteen years together, don’t you trust me?” I looked at his face, so close to mine, yet instinctively pushed him away. This action made the hurt in his eyes deepen. His voice carried a barely perceptible tremor: “Harper, what’s wrong with you? Did someone say something to you?” Just as I was about to pull out that laptop and throw all the sordid evidence in his face, his phone—still face-down on the table—vibrated again. This time it wasn’t a call, but a message. He instinctively reached for it, but I was faster, catching a glimpse of the calendar reminder that popped up on the screen. [Today at 5 PM: Pick up Devotion.] My heart clenched suddenly. Devotion was the name of the first painting I’d ever sold. That year, when I had just started college, my work was hung in the school gallery with no buyers. Finally, a mysterious buyer purchased it. Much later, I learned that buyer was Lachlan. He hung the painting in our future marital home, pointing at my messy signature on it and saying: “For the rest of my life, I’ll marry no one but you.” That painting was the beginning of our love, the unique, devoted love he promised me. Seeing that I’d noticed the reminder, a flash of annoyance crossed Lachlan’s face, which then softened into helpless tenderness. He handed me his phone and opened the note for that reminder. It read: Harper’s wedding ring—inspired by the painting, named with love. He sighed and gently hugged me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “I wanted to surprise you the day before the wedding, but you discovered it early.” “I found a designer in France and had the compositional elements of Devotion made into a ring. Harper, our rings are one-of-a-kind in the whole world.” His voice carried a smile, warm breath falling on my ear. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay? I admit, that Tara Quinn pestered me with some talk, but I rejected her.” “In my world, besides you, there’s no room for anyone else.” He paused and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going out to pick up the ring. It’s too cold outside—stay home and wait for me. I’ll be back soon to keep you company.” I pulled my hand back, my voice eerily calm: “Go ahead.” As soon as Lachlan left, I grabbed my phone to check the transaction records on the secondhand platform. The seller’s name was Tara Quinn, and the address was a high-end apartment complex in the western part of the city. Once, Lachlan had pointed at a billboard for that place and said to me: “Harper, I bought you a small place there. You can paint there in peace from now on!” I had been so happy then, thinking it was another testament to our love. Now, it had become the cruelest irony. I opened a rideshare app and entered the address. Half an hour later, the car stopped at the entrance to the complex. I immediately spotted Lachlan’s familiar black Range Rover. I didn’t go in, just stood in the shadows across the street. Before long, the building door opened. Lachlan walked out with a petite figure. I recognized her immediately as the girl from the photos—Tara Quinn. Tara clung intimately to his arm, practically hanging on him. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. And Lachlan looked down at her with a hint of indulgent affection at the corner of his mouth—the same way he’d looked at me for the past fifteen years. My hands and feet went ice cold, yet I instinctively raised my phone’s camera and pointed it at them.

My stomach churned violently, worse than when I’d first seen those photos. Tara tilted her face up, seeking a kiss. Lachlan didn’t push her away—he just smiled helplessly and tapped her forehead with his finger. “Stop it. What if someone sees?” Tara shook his arm insistently, her voice coquettish: “So what if they see? Your fiancée loves you so much that even if she found out, she’d just assume I seduced you.” Lachlan’s face hardened, his voice cold with warning: “I told you clearly before we got together—I have my responsibilities and my boundaries. Harper is the person I’m going to marry. That will never change.” Tara pouted and pulled an exquisite velvet box from her purse, holding it out to Lachlan. “Okay, okay, don’t be mad. I promise I won’t make a scene in front of her. Look what I got you!” “Can we call our rings Devotion too?” Lachlan’s expression stiffened for a moment. He looked at Tara, and finally smiled: “You little vixen.” I watched him accept that ring and slide it onto his ring finger. The design of that ring was seventy to eighty percent similar to the wedding ring he’d just described to me—the one supposedly inspired by my painting. The last trace of warmth I’d felt for these fifteen years completely dissipated. I recorded this final scene, put away my phone, turned around, and hailed a cab. Back home, I didn’t turn on the lights. In the darkness, I sat on the sofa, replaying that video over and over. Watching the hesitation that flashed across Lachlan’s face when he put on that ring, followed by his eventual surrender. None of it was an accident. That laptop, that wallpaper—all of it was a trap Tara had carefully designed. Just waiting for me, the legitimate fiancée, to personally uncover my husband’s other face. She’d succeeded. My world, along with those fifteen years of love, shattered completely. After sending this video to Zoey as well, I acted as if nothing had happened, quietly waiting for the day of the engagement party. Lachlan was probably feeling guilty—he became even more attentive and considerate toward me. The more he acted this way, the more disgusted I felt. The night before the engagement party, Lachlan excitedly brought over an exquisite gift box, his face wearing a tender smile. “Harper, come quick! Look at the dress I had custom-made for you. You’ll look absolutely beautiful wearing it at tomorrow’s engagement.” He opened the box like presenting a treasure. Inside was a champagne-colored mermaid gown. The hem was studded with tiny crystals that sparkled gently under the light. Then he knelt on one knee and opened a velvet box. Inside lay a diamond ring with an intricate design. The lines winding around the band were the composition from my painting Devotion. He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with love: “Harper, this is our Devotion. It will be like my love for you—eternal and unchanging.” “After tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. Harper, I’ve waited so long for this day.” His voice carried a barely perceptible nervousness, his fingertips trembling slightly. I looked at myself reflected in his eyes—the girl who had once been full of joy and hope for the future now felt only a barren coldness. I didn’t extend my hand. I just quietly watched him, watched the anticipation in his eyes gradually freeze and finally turn into unease. He asked tentatively, “Harper? Don’t you like it?” I slowly shook my head, my voice flat: “I like it. It’s beautiful.” He visibly relaxed and tried to take my hand to put the ring on me. But I gently moved away, taking the ring box from his hand. Looking at those winding lines, I suddenly smiled. “What if tomorrow… I ran away from the wedding? What would you do?”

“What are you talking about, silly?” Lachlan laughed and ruffled my hair: “If you ran, I’d turn the whole earth upside down to find you and lock you by my side.” I lowered my eyelids, hiding the mockery in my eyes: “Lachlan, if… if I did something to hurt you, would you forgive me?” The smile faded from Lachlan’s face. He cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes, his expression frighteningly serious. “Don’t say things like that.” His thumb caressed my cheek, his voice low: “Harper, between us, there’s no ‘hurting’ and no ‘forgiving.’” “You would never do anything to hurt me, just like I would never betray you.” He said it with such certainty, such apparent sincerity. I almost laughed out loud. Was this certainty based on his trust in me, or his confidence in his own acting skills? I said nothing more, letting him hold me in his arms, feeling that false yet familiar warmth. On the day of the engagement, before leaving, I took out my phone and sent Zoey a final message: “Proceed as planned.” The banquet hall was lively and warm. Both our parents and several close elders were there. Lachlan’s mother held my hand, beaming: “Harper is getting more beautiful every day. Our Lachlan marrying you is a blessing from eight lifetimes of good karma.” I smiled, playing the role of a bride-to-be immersed in happiness. Lachlan sat beside me, considerately serving me food, occasionally whispering sweet nothings in my ear. We looked so intimate that everyone envied us. Halfway through the dinner, Lachlan’s father cleared his throat and stood up, preparing to announce our official wedding date. Just as everyone’s attention focused on him, Lachlan’s phone vibrated. He picked it up, glanced at it, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Then he gave me a reassuring smile and lowered his voice: “Something urgent at the office. I’ll step out to take this call. Be right back.” He got up and hurried out. The moment the private room door closed, I stood up. Under everyone’s bewildered gazes, I walked to the front of the room and connected my phone to the huge screen that had been prepared to show our sweet memories. Zoey’s carefully edited video began to play. The entire room fell deathly silent. I heard Lachlan’s mother gasp, saw the shock drain all color from my parents’ faces. I picked up the microphone, my voice ringing clearly through the room: “I’m sorry, everyone. This engagement party is canceled.” With that, I put down the microphone and, under everyone’s stares, turned and walked out of that suffocating banquet hall. Lachlan was leaning against the window at the end of the corridor, softly coaxing Tara on the phone. “Okay, okay, it’s just a stomachache. As soon as the engagement party ends, I’ll come keep you company. Don’t cry, my baby.” Before he could hang up, a resounding slap landed hard across his face. Lachlan was stunned. He covered his face, looking up in disbelief. The next second, his father pointed at him, trembling with rage: “You disgraceful bastard! Get in there right now and see what you’ve done!”

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I’ve read countless stories about cheating husbands eventually crawling back, begging for forgiveness. I never thought I’d end up starring in one. Except, my story didn’t have the part where he begs. Just the part where everything burns. Because I actually died. I became a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after I passed, it was like a delayed reaction finally crushed him. Inside the house I could never go back to, he howled and wept, utterly broken. You ask me how that felt? I just stood there, blankly, savoring every inch of agony on his face. I listened intently to his desperate desolation over my departure. Beneath the grim satisfaction and the heartbreak, a massive wave of schadenfreude surged within me. Joyful, ecstatic vindication. It was a sharp, liberating thrill. I covered my mouth to stifled a laugh. 1 After dying, I became entirely certain that Julian had never truly loved me. When the police called him to identify my body at the morgue, he actually thought I was pulling a sick prank with my friends. He thought it was my desperate way of forcing him to talk. Because just minutes before, our final conversation had ended in disaster. I had screamed, I had raged, I had begged on my knees, and I had used the foulest language I knew to curse him. By the end, we were both drained. With bloodshot eyes, I sat on the balcony railing, my legs dangling over the edge. “Are you really going through with this divorce?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He looked at me calmly. The first time I used suicide to threaten him, he had panicked. Now, his face held nothing but exhaustion. “Are you done with the drama?” he asked. I said quietly, “If you walk out that door today, I’m jumping.” He gave me one long, deep look, turned, and walked away. The front door slammed with a deafening thud, shaking the apartment. Then, I heard the chime of the elevator. I had staged many suicides. The first time was three months after he initially asked for a divorce. It was our third wedding anniversary, which also happened to be his mistress’s birthday. He wouldn’t answer my calls. Finally, I sent him a photo of an empty bottle of sleeping pills and turned off my phone. He rushed back, looking frantic and disheveled. When he pushed the door open, I was sitting at the dining table in the dark. A lavish feast was laid out, a huge bouquet of roses between two flickering candles. I smiled at him across the table. “Happy anniversary, Julian.” He was livid. He screamed that I was insane. He grabbed my arm, dragged me into the bathroom, and pinned me down, brutally ramming a toothbrush down my throat to make me purge. I huddled over the sink, retching, while he kept cursing at me. “Where are the pills? How many did you take?” I was a mess, but I started laughing. My voice was raw and raspy. “I lied,” I told him, looking up through my hair. “I didn’t take anything.” I grabbed his sleeve, gripping it tightly. “Happy anniversary. I bought you a gift. Don’t you want to see what it is?” He looked down at me, his expression unreadable. Finally, looking utterly depleted, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t love you anymore, Sarah. Can’t we just let each other go?” Why should it be that easy? We met in college. Fell in love. A seven-year romantic marathon, followed by three years of marriage. All my youth, all my love, was invested in this man. Now he tells me to “let go”? Over my dead body. I was going to waste his life. I wanted that woman on the outside to remain a mistress, illegitimate and shameful, for the rest of her life. So I looked at him tenderly and said the cruelest thing I could think of. “Let you go? In your dreams.” He stared at me, unblinking. After that night, I could never track him down again. 2 Calls and texts went unanswered, lost in a sea of silence. I talked to his subordinates, but they were a brick wall, smooth and impenetrable. I even went to his office. The receptionist looked at me with an awkward, sympathetic expression, blocking my path. “Mr. Hayes isn’t in,” she said. I really wanted to force my way in. But I didn’t want to make a scene. I had some dignity left. So, I forced a smile, pretending to be unbothered. “When he gets back, just let him know I stopped by.” She relaxed visibly, looking relieved, though she couldn’t hide the pity in her eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Hayes. Will do.” I pretended not to see his silhouette behind the glass wall of his corner office. That night, I went home and drank a bottle of bourbon. I sipped it slowly, sitting on the balcony, watching the sunset bleed orange across the skyline. My mind drifted back to college. We were lab partners junior year. My grades were good, but I was failing statistics. Our advisor suggested he tutor me. I don’t remember much about junior year, except for that humid summer. The slow whir of the ceiling fans in the library. The smelling of old books. And Julian’s fingers, constantly spinning a black pen. I remember late-night study sessions, him leaning in slightly, his warm breath fanning my cheek. His hand, with its defined knuckles, pressed down on the textbook. His voice was low, creating a tender illusion. “Which problem are you stuck on now?” It was an innocent, naive fluttering of the heart, drowned out by months of studying for exams. Actually, Julian and I started dating senior year. Getting into the same law school gave us a sense of camaraderie. He took care of me. During orientation week, I joined the Student Bar Association. The chair of the social committee was always being inappropriate with me, touching me, getting in my space. One night, after a bar crawl, I wanted to go back to my dorm. He insisted on walking me. In a dark alleyway off campus, he suddenly pinned me against a brick wall, pinning my shoulders with his hands. He was slurring, rambling about how I had to be his girlfriend, trying to force a kiss on me. I panicked, screaming for help. The next second, he was ripped off me. Julian was there, swinging his gym bag. He beat the guy up badly. He didn’t seem to care if he killed him. Every punch was vicious. I tried to pull him off, screaming his name, but it was useless. Finally, standing behind him, frantic and not knowing what else to do, I yelled, “Julian, stop! I’m going to cry!” His eyes were red, but he stopped. He turned to look at me, his handsome face tense with lingering rage. The moment he saw me, his expression softened instantly. “Don’t cry,” he cooed. He stood up, walked over, and clumsily used the jacket from his bag to wipe the tears from my face. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He looked at me, looking a little frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry. I just… I’ve had a crush on you for so long, and I never dared to touch you. Now this total asshole tries to force himself on you… Did I scare you? I’m sorry.” He looked down at me, his gaze earnest, his expression tender. “I didn’t want to scare you. I wanted to wait until the time was right. Sarah, I like you. Do you like me?” The memories were so vivid, like they happened yesterday. The young man who had nervously asked me that question had turned into a stranger. Now, he only said things like: “Are you done annoying me? Can you just not, for five minutes?” “Stop calling me.” “I’m not at the office, stop looking for me.” “Please, let’s just end this cleanly. Let me go, okay?” Tears streamed down my face. I finished the bottle of bourbon. This was my second suicide attempt. 3 I woke up in the hospital. My best friend, Chloe, was by my bedside, watching the IV drip. When she saw me open my eyes, she burst into tears, hitting my shoulder, asking me why I did something so stupid. I had just had my stomach pumped. I was incredibly weak, and my throat was too raw to make a sound. I scanned the room. Then I turned my head, stubbornly looking at Chloe, silently asking with my eyes. Where is he? She understood. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She grabbed my hand, sobbing like a child, trying to comfort me. “Sarah, honey, can we just not force this? I called Julian. He didn’t come. Don’t you get it yet? Forget him. He’s not worth your life…” I closed my eyes. A single tear slid down my cheek. Julian hated being threatened. Senior year of college, we had been together for three years. There was a girl who really liked him, but he always coldly rejected her. Finally, her roommate told Julian that if he didn’t go see her, she was going to cut her wrists. Julian was with me at the movies. I still remember his expression when he got the call. He let out a cold laugh. “If she wants to cut her wrists, tell her to hurry up. Otherwise, if I go today, she won’t do it. But tomorrow, if I don’t go, she’ll threaten it again. Do I look like a charity?” He was holding my ice cream cone when he said that. It was winter, but I really wanted ice cream. He was worried I’d get too cold, but he couldn’t bear to say no. So he compromised: he bought it, but he insisted on holding it, only letting me have a few licks before pulling it away. It was strange. Cruelty and tenderness existed within him, side by side, without contradiction. Back then, I couldn’t let it go. I dragged him to the hospital to see that girl. He stood at the door of her room, frowning, looking annoyed. “I’m going to say this one last time,” he told her. “I love my girlfriend very much. Suicide threats don’t work on me. You can slice yourself into stir-fry for all I care. Don’t manipulate me with guilt, and don’t manipulate the people around me.” I was afraid my presence would upset her, so I stayed by the door. Through the window, I saw her lying in bed, tears streaming down her face as she listened to him. At the time, I was confused. Why would a woman want to die just because a man doesn’t love her? I didn’t understand. I always believed a woman should be an independent entity, with independent thoughts, not relying on someone else’s affection to exist. Why commit suicide over a man who doesn’t love you? Life is the most important thing. You should be resilient and dignified. Besides a man, you have family and friends who love you. You shouldn’t toy with your life. I told myself I would never do such a thing. But you don’t know how bad it hurts until the knife cuts your own skin. Many years later, that boomerang hit me. I became the woman using suicide to threaten Julian. And his attitude toward that threat hadn’t changed at all in all those years. 4 Honestly, I don’t know how Julian and I became what we are now. Before he confessed about the mistress, I hadn’t doubted him for a single second. We had too many years of history. I trusted him completely. I never checked his phones, his social media. When he traveled for work, came home late, or had business dinners, I never questioned him. Even when he first told me he had someone else and wanted a divorce, I thought something was wrong with him. Was he sick? Terminal cancer? Was the company bankrupt? IRS trouble? Had he broken the law? I spent two months systematically ruling things out. Only then did I have to accept the truth: he was just a regular guy who cheated. A guy who simply didn’t love me anymore. He just… wanted to leave me. After we initially confessed our feelings in college, he still pursued me for a long time. Even though we both knew I would say yes, when he finally formally asked me out, his voice was shaking. I rarely saw him anxious. But that young man, standing in front of me, trying so hard to be cool while asking me to be his girlfriend, his hands sweating with nerves—that Julian was the perfect image of love in my mind. When I blushed, smiled, and nodded, he lunged forward to hug me. He was so excited he was babbling. “This is great, Sarah. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this day.” He said it was love at first sight. He had waited three years to finally be with me. Back then, we were just broke students. He spent half his monthly allowance treating my entire dorm to dinner to celebrate. At the table, he draped his arm over the back of my chair, looking at me with total adoration, smiling non-stop. Finally, he solemnly asked my roommates to look out for me, because I was clumsy and he worried when he wasn’t around. My roommates giggled and agreed, their eyes full of envy and blessings. Everyone said we were a match made in heaven. We had walked together for so long. Now he tells me he loves someone else and wants a divorce. How could I be resilient? How could I be dignified? Using my life to threaten a man who doesn’t love me only makes him disgusted, but I had no other options. I was in absolute agony. I couldn’t sleep, day or night. I kept wondering what went wrong. I wasn’t ugly, I was educated, my body hadn’t fallen apart over the years. Men at the office still hit on me. I became mentally drained, weeping without realizing it. Julian and I had one calm conversation. I remember sitting at the dining table, trying my best to look composed. I had spent countless days and nights psyching myself up to say these words. “I don’t blame you, Julian,” I said. “I forgive you.” He just looked at me coldly. Very, very coldly. “Don’t you get it yet, Sarah? I don’t need your forgiveness. I love someone else. I want to take responsibility. The reason I’m telling you this is because I want a divorce so I can marry her. Whether you forgive me or not means absolutely nothing. Let’s divorce.” I screamed. I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and hurled it at him. I rarely lost control like that. My upbringing was strict; I was taught to be a lady, demure and polite. Since I was a child, the compliment I heard most was how sweet and gentle I was. But when a heart is cut over and over again with a blunt knife, any gentle, polite woman will turn hysterical and hideous. Julian would never understand why I was so crazy. In his mind, I had nothing to lose in the divorce. He readily admitted he was the at-fault party. He was giving me everything: the house, the cars, all the marital assets, except for his own newly formed company. We didn’t have kids. In his mind, he felt bad, but he had compensated me financially. It was a massive fortune. So why couldn’t I just be a good girl and let him go? Why did I have to cling on like this? I didn’t know either. Maybe because thirteen years is too long. From high school to now. He occupied over half my life. Our love was fused into every inch of my being, like a seed planted in my veins, rooted deep. Thirteen years—any seed would grow into a massive tree. I couldn’t just walk away smiling like everyone advised me to. That would require me to rip out those roots and branches, bit by bit, from my own body. But it was part of me now. Ripping it out would kill me. In the dark of night, I curled up in bed, hugging myself tightly. The pain was unbearable. Chloe tried to convince me to let go. She said Julian was a man who chased emotional highs. A hedonist. He had been with me for over a decade—for a man like him, that was his limit. He followed his desires. He wasn’t producing dopamine for our love anymore. He was bored. 5 But I couldn’t let go. This divorce drama dragged on so long that everyone around us was exhausted. Julian’s patience finally ran out. We were like two wild beasts tearing at each other, ripping all our beautiful memories to shreds. Even Chloe sighed, “How did you guys end up like this?” We were like bitter enemies with a blood feud. As if we had never shared a bed, never held each other close, never loved each other deeply and truly. We left no room for dignity. But now, I was really tired. Congratulations, Julian. You finally got your wish. Listening to the sound of the elevator doors closing outside, I planned my third and final suicide. I sat on the balcony, humming a tune to myself. “Goodbye to yesterday’s love, maybe I shouldn’t have cared so much. Now there’s no more obsession left in me. Fate has its own plans, why try to settle the score…” Then I closed my eyes and, with a smile, stepped off. Like I said, I timed it. By the time Julian walked out of the elevator, I should land right in front of him. From the 28th floor, my body would shatter, blood spattering everywhere. It would be a horrific death. A sight that would haunt a person for a lifetime. Before I fell, I kept my eyes locked stubbornly on the building entrance. Finally, I saw Julian walk out. His face was a mask of shock and terror. He froze, looking at me. His first instinct was to run over and try to catch me, but how could he? I held a tiny smile, gentle as I used to be, right until I hit the pavement with a sickening crash. Through the excruciating pain, I died with my eyes wide open, smiling fixedly at him. I wanted him to never forget me. I wanted him to be plagued by his conscience for the rest of his life. I wanted him to live with the overwhelming guilt of what he did to me. I wanted him to never, ever know a day of peace or happiness for the rest of his life. He destroyed me. So I destroyed him. Before Julian and I fell apart, I had done something that crossed a line for him. Before that, he had always maintained a subtle level of guilt toward me. About a month ago, I finally relented. I told Julian I agreed to the divorce. But I had one condition: I wanted to meet the other woman. Julian had protected her well, just like he protected me back in college. From the moment he brought up divorce until our six-month stalemate, I had no idea who she was. I told him I’d agree to the divorce, but I needed to see this girl. I wanted to know what my thirteen years of devotion had lost to. Julian was furious. He thought I was screwing with him. He looked at me in disbelief. “How can you be so manipulative?” He actually thought I was doing it maliciously. Because after meeting her, I changed my mind. By then, I didn’t want to explain anymore. It didn’t matter what he believed. Actually, I had planned to let go. I really had tried to convince myself to walk away. I wanted to end this undignified marriage that had become a laughingstock. I wanted to set myself free, and set him free. I intended to bless them. But when I met that girl, I changed my mind. She was the polar opposite of me. Lively. Very beautiful. When she looked up, her long eyelashes gave her the fragile, timid look of a startled deer. Seeing me, she was visibly nervous, apologizing over and over again, completely flustered. I sent Julian away. Then I leaned back in my chair and told her, “Convince me. You have the whole afternoon. Convince me to agree to the divorce.” Then, she proceeded to meticulously list all the details of her romance with Julian. She was a marketing coordinator at Julian’s new company. They met at a joint company happy hour. Later, they went to an escape room with a group. She was scared, screamed, and ran right into Julian’s arms. For the rest of the game, she didn’t dare leave his side. Finally, getting annoyed by her jumping every two seconds, Julian无奈ly let her hold onto the hem of his jacket until the game ended. Naturally, she offered to treat Julian to dinner to apologize. Over dinner, they discovered they had common interests. After that, they played a video game together online. She was actually good at games, and Julian admired that. Then there were many, many more details of their interactions. She told me about their internal conflict and guilt in the beginning. She told me about a time Julian was distant and cold toward her. She told me about the happiness of their first hand-hold, their first kiss, the first time they slept together. She told me that after they established their relationship, on a rainy afternoon, Julian lay on the couch, she curled up in his arms, Julian rested his chin on the top of her head, and they played a game together on their phones. She said a lot of things. Finally, with tears in her eyes, looking utterly pitiful, she said, “Sarah, I know I’ve done you wrong. But we truly love each other.” I covered my mouth, ran to the bathroom, and retched for a long time. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Gentle eyes, pale face, which made my dark pupils look even more hollow, tragic, and desperate. I was shaking all over. I had never felt so disgusted. Wave after wave of dizziness hit me. My mind was blank, my vision spinning. I almost couldn’t control my own body. But at that exact, inappropriate moment, I thought of when Julian and I got married.

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As an intern, I accidentally spilled a lunchbox because of the office “mean girl” (let’s call her a “green tea”). She demanded I clean it up, telling me that someone with my lack of money and background was only fit to be a janitor. I agreed with her. Then, right in front of her, I called the boss to inform him that the rent for the office space would be increasing by 20% next month. When I first started this internship, I didn’t even have time to be happy about running into an alum before she gave me a harsh lesson. On my very first day, she used her “senior intern” status to dump all her work on me. Ladies, is this even allowed? 1 In my senior year of college, I applied for an internship at a random company in my family’s office building just to get the required internship certificate. I never expected to run into an office “mean girl” on my very first day. I thought my first day would be filled with welcoming colleagues and friendly managers. At the very least, a regular employee should have shown me the ropes. Instead, what awaited me was a thick stack of bidding documents. The person handing them to me was Chloe, the “it girl” of our department at college. She seemed to have started her internship here before me. At this moment, she lifted her chin, her lips curling into a condescending smile. “Mia, these bidding documents need to be done before you leave today. Make sure you finish them.” I was stunned. Since when do interns have the authority to assign work to other interns? So, I went to the manager in charge of our department to ask about the feasibility of giving a brand-new intern such an urgent bidding document on her first day, and whether an intern even had the right to delegate tasks to another intern. I thought the manager would handle it reasonably. To my surprise, he barely glanced at me, looking annoyed. “If she asked you to do it, just do it. Interns need to prove themselves. Chloe is giving you an opportunity; you should be thanking her.” I was completely speechless. I even started wondering if this company was actually viable. Will they even be able to pay the rent next month? But right now, I wasn’t the landlord; I was an intern. I could only grit my teeth and leave the manager’s office. As I walked past Chloe’s desk, she was looking at me with a smug, gloating smile. I ignored her, hugged the documents, and hurried back to my desk to start working, terrified that if I was even a little slow, I wouldn’t finish by the end of the day. “Why bother fighting with her? She’s only been here a couple of weeks, and she’s been throwing her weight around the whole time. The General Manager is her uncle. She’s a nepo baby; we can’t afford to mess with her,” my colleague Jessica whispered, tugging at my sleeve. “We’re all just here to earn a paycheck. There’s no need to go up against management.” I paused for a second. That’s it? That’s what counts as “management”? I didn’t answer Jessica. I continued studying the bidding documents. Because it was my first time, there were many things I didn’t understand. Fortunately, when I asked my other colleagues, they patiently explained things to me. “Wow, aren’t you supposed to be top three in our major? You have the nerve to ask for help with such basic problems?” Chloe said sarcastically, filing her nails at her desk. I didn’t hold back either. “Well, I should thank you for giving me this ‘opportunity,’ right?” Chloe clearly hesitated for a moment but quickly regained her smug expression. “Then you better work hard.” I was so busy that day I didn’t even have time for lunch. I barely managed to finish the bidding documents before quitting time. But when I handed them to Chloe, she casually tossed them aside and said flatly, “Just leave them there. I’ll look at them tomorrow.” With that, she grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and sashayed out of the office. 2 “Just bear with it. Since she got here, she’s already pushed out three other interns,” Jessica sighed, standing behind me. “Did you see her outfit? That’s worth several months of our salary.” I watched Chloe’s slender figure disappear and then looked down at my own custom-tailored, logo-less clothes. I strongly disagreed with Jessica’s assessment. I expected Chloe to keep finding ways to make my life difficult in the following days. I even made up my mind that if she provoked me one more time, I would just throw my stuff down and quit. Surprisingly, she was very quiet over the next few days. Aside from occasionally making passive-aggressive comments about me being poor, she didn’t do much else. One afternoon, I ordered takeout with some colleagues. I have a pretty big appetite, and one portion of rice wasn’t enough. A few of the female colleagues who were dieting practically fought to give me the extra rice from their lunchboxes. I happily accepted, not wanting to waste food. “Lower-class people are really something else. Even for lunch, they have to scrounge for scraps from everyone else,” Chloe sneered as she opened her expensive bento box, looking at me like I was something disgusting. “Lower-class? What, does that make you upper-class?” I put down my chopsticks and retorted with a cold smile. “At least I’m higher class than someone who has to beg for food from others. You’re so young, yet you’re always trying to take advantage. Are you really that desperate for a bite of rice?” Chloe’s words were so harsh that the colleagues eating with us in the breakroom looked uncomfortable. Someone tried to stand up for me, but after a colleague tugged at their shirt, they stayed quiet. “It’s a blessing to be able to eat food shared by others. Some people couldn’t get it even if they wanted to. Would anyone even offer it to you?” I picked up a piece of radish, popped it into my mouth, and ate it with relish. I even hummed in satisfaction, praising how good the shared food tasted. “You’re acting like a beggar, and you’re proud of it,” Chloe sneered, her nose practically wrinkling in disgust. She threw down that harsh remark, picked up her food, and left. Because of Chloe’s blatant bullying, my colleagues started distancing themselves from me. Fewer and fewer people were willing to eat with me. Even Jessica, after Chloe dropped a vague hint—”Hanging out with someone as poor as Mia might ruin your career prospects”—stopped talking to me. But none of this bothered me much. I just wanted my internship certificate. I only needed to stick it out for a month to get it and leave this toxic environment, so I could endure it. I just didn’t expect her to go so far as to sabotage the company just to mess with me. When the results of the bidding came out, the General Manager called me and my department manager into his office. The General Manager looked to be in his forties. He wore a suit but lacked the sharp look of a professional; instead, he had the classic paunch of a stereotypical boss. Standing next to him was Chloe. As soon as we walked in, we saw Chloe quickly straightening up from a bent position. The sound of us opening the door seemed to have flustered her. My eyes flickered. I wasn’t entirely sure what I saw, but had the General Manager just moved his hand away from Chloe’s waist? Weren’t they supposed to be uncle and niece? Did I imagine it? “Why are the numbers in this bidding document wrong?” Before I could think further, the General Manager threw a bound document at my feet. I frowned and picked it up. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing because I had personally double-checked every single number in that document. It was impossible for there to be an error. But strangely, when I flipped through it, the numbers were wrong. “Mr. Davis, Mia is new. It’s inevitable she’d be a little careless. Please don’t be too hard on her. If she loses this job, she probably won’t even be able to afford food.” Chloe smiled playfully, patting Mr. Davis on the shoulder. Her soft fingers lightly brushed against his suit collar in a way that felt strangely intimate. I kept frowning and didn’t reply, trying to recall everything I did after finishing the document. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you know how big of a mess you’ve made?” Mr. Davis slammed his hand on the desk and yelled, pointing right at my nose. “Our company was guaranteed to win this project! Because of the errors in your document, we lost the bid to a competitor. Do you have any idea how much money you just cost us?” “Mr. Davis, this isn’t my document,” I said calmly, placing the binder back on his desk. “Not yours? Then whose is it? Don’t try to shift the blame.” Mr. Davis narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them. I let out a cold laugh. “I prepared the document, but the numbers in the one I made were correct. As for why this version has the wrong numbers, you’ll have to ask Chloe.” “Mia, what are you talking about? The whole company knows you made this document. How can you have the nerve to blame me? And after I just pleaded for you!” Chloe glared at me, raising her voice. “Pleaded for me? I don’t need it. This isn’t even the version I gave you. You changed the numbers.” “You… you must be joking. Why on earth would I change the numbers?” “That’s a question for you. Why did you change my numbers?” Perhaps seeing that I wasn’t intimidated, Chloe became increasingly agitated. “You’re accusing me of changing the numbers. What proof do you have? You printed this document yourself and handed it to me.” I scoffed. “It’s true I printed it and gave it to you, but the next day, didn’t you ask me for the digital copy?” “You did send me the digital copy, but I checked it today, and the numbers match the printed version. So, you made the mistake.” Chloe put on a hurt, victimized expression. “Mia, I always thought you were a good person. I never expected you to falsely accuse me just to avoid responsibility.” Hearing this, I actually laughed. I looked at Mr. Davis again. “So, she’s claiming I got the numbers wrong, is that right?” “Mia, a mistake is a mistake. Don’t try to blame your colleagues. Do you know the company could sue you for the losses you’ve caused?” Mr. Davis lowered his voice, adding a threatening tone. “Mr. Davis, you don’t need to scare me. Let’s set aside whether we lost the bid solely because of this document. Just the fact that you entrusted a crucial bidding document to an intern on her first day—do you think a judge would even entertain a lawsuit against me?” “Furthermore, she insists both the digital and printed versions I gave her had the wrong numbers. So, Chloe, did you actually read the email? When I sent you the document, I CC’d the department manager and the CEO.” Mr. Davis seemed to have forgotten about this detail. He hurriedly opened his email and, sure enough, found the email I had sent ten days ago. “Who gave you permission to CC the CEO?” Mr. Davis seemed furious, his eyes bulging with anger. I smiled, a bright, cheerful smile. “Is there a rule against CC’ing the CEO? Mr. Davis, you might want to spend some time figuring out how you’re going to explain to the CEO why the wrong version of the document was submitted.” 3 When I left the General Manager’s office, I wore a victorious smile, completely ignoring the venomous glares from the people behind me. In reality, regardless of whether that email existed or not, they had no legal grounds to pin the blame on a brand-new intern. However, the email’s existence changed the dynamic entirely. Of course, I also knew I had severely offended those three. I really didn’t understand where Chloe’s malice toward me came from. I had heard she pushed out other interns, but her actions toward me seemed far more targeted than simple hazing. If someone more timid had faced this today, they probably would have panicked completely. I didn’t have time to dwell on it and threw myself into my next tasks. With this incident as a warning, I knew I had to be much more careful. After lunch, Mrs. Jenkins, the cleaning lady, placed a container of fruit on my desk. “Eat up. You’ve been working so hard these past two days, you’ve lost weight.” Before I could even thank her, Chloe’s shrill voice came from behind me. “What is that smell? Did you dig that out of the trash?” I frowned and turned around. She had resumed her arrogant posture, dramatically pinching her nose. “Have you never seen grapes before? Does your family have to dig through the trash to find them?” I picked up a grape from the container and popped it into my mouth. It was sweet and crisp—my favorite, Shine Muscat grapes. “Who hasn’t seen grapes? It’s just funny that someone who begs for lunch scraps is suddenly acting high and mighty. You have to rely on a cleaning lady for handouts. Stuff from a cleaning lady obviously belongs in the trash.” Chloe waved her hand in disgust. “Chloe, watch your mouth. Stop associating the cleaning staff with the trash,” I said, my anger finally boiling over. I slammed the container down on the desk, the loud noise catching the attention of everyone in the office. “Am I wrong? Cleaners pick up trash. What’s the problem? Of course, someone like you is only fit to associate with cleaners.” As she spoke, she fanned the air around her and squeezed past us, swaying her hips. Could I hit her? Just as I couldn’t resist the urge to step forward and pull her hair, Mrs. Jenkins grabbed my hand and shook her head. Knowing she didn’t want me to cause trouble, I sighed, picked up the grapes, and decided to ignore that woman. “Come over to your great-aunt’s house for dinner after work today. Your cousin is back; I’ll have him pick you up,” Mrs. Jenkins whispered, patting my head. That’s right. The company’s cleaning lady was my great-aunt. She was used to working hard when she was younger and couldn’t stand being idle. So, she found a cleaning job in our family’s office building. Not for the paycheck, but just to have something to do. Actually, the office building next door also belonged to our family, but because people there recognized her, she didn’t work there and applied to this company instead. I chose this company specifically because she worked here. I nodded to show I understood. That afternoon, Chloe was either demanding we open the windows for ventilation or fanning herself, complaining that the office smelled like a dumpster. I just pretended I couldn’t hear her and ignored her. But I didn’t expect that the colleagues who were usually oppressed by her—and too afraid to fight back—would turn their frustration toward me. Some started slamming their mice impatiently. Others echoed Chloe: “Yeah, aren’t you afraid of getting sick eating grapes from the trash?” “Exactly. That kind of stuff should be thrown away.” Chloe smiled smugly. “Someone like her could never bear to throw anything away.” Normally, their relationship with my great-aunt wasn’t bad, but faced with Chloe’s targeted attacks, they became bitter and mean. I gritted my teeth and put the grapes in my drawer. When it was time to leave, my colleagues didn’t even want to share an elevator with me. Having the whole elevator to myself, I didn’t care at all. I just felt the air in the elevator was much fresher than in the office. Downstairs, I immediately spotted Liam’s Jaguar. He seemed to see me too and stepped out of the car. Just as I was about to walk over, I heard rushed footsteps behind me, followed by a hard bump against my shoulder. Chloe dashed past me, the impact not slowing her down at all. Her target was Liam. I raised an eyebrow and slowed my pace. “Liam! When did you get back?!” She smiled brightly, tilting her head up to look at him with a picture-perfect expression of serene adoration. The sight of the handsome guy and the pretty girl was actually quite pleasant. “Just got back.” Liam frowned slightly, offering a curt three-word reply. “Oh! It’s been so long. Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” She seemed completely oblivious to the rejection radiating from Liam, her smile remaining sweet as she took a step closer. “No, I’m here to pick up Mia.” His gaze bypassed Chloe and landed on me, carrying a hint of reproach. I chuckled inwardly. So Chloe had a crush on him. Ignoring Chloe’s resentful glare, I opened the passenger door and got in. Liam gave a distant “Excuse me,” got in the car, and drove us away. “You guys know each other?” I asked, amused, looking at my cousin who was driving with a wooden expression. He seemed to search his memory before replying, “She confessed to me before I went abroad.” My cousin is only two months older than me. He was the campus heartthrob at our university. Half a year ago, for some reason, he decided to do a study abroad program, and now he was back. We had always been close, and he looked out for me in college. But to avoid disrupting my peaceful college life, we never publicly disclosed our relationship. It was obvious he didn’t have a good impression of Chloe. His lips were pressed into a tight line, and a slight crease formed between his brows. I pursed my lips and didn’t ask any more questions about Chloe, instead asking him about his time abroad. The next day at work, the way my colleagues looked at me was a bit strange. Jessica even covertly tugged at my shirt and asked, “Was the guy who picked you up yesterday your boyfriend?” I shook my head. “That’s my…” “Don’t be ridiculous. How could Liam like her? Is Mia even in his league?” Chloe spoke up before me, her tone full of disdain but her eyes screaming jealousy. I was speechless. It’s true he wasn’t my boyfriend, but it definitely wasn’t because I wasn’t “in his league.” “Oh, really? If I’m not in his league, who is? You?” I finally couldn’t hold back my anger and let out a sarcastic laugh. To my surprise, the woman rolled her eyes at me. “I’m certainly a better match than you. Do you know what Liam’s family does? Do you know that one of his outfits costs more than your entire four years of college tuition? Do you think a family like his would ever accept someone with your background? I’m different. My uncle is the General Manager here. Any random purse I own costs more than everything you’re wearing combined, multiplied by ten. Who do you think is a better match for him?” Looking at her, decked out like a walking billboard for designer logos, I just found her ridiculous. “Right, you’re a perfect match. It’s just a shame you can’t even get a ride in his car.” “You… who knows what dirty tricks you used to get into Liam’s car. Girls should have some self-respect. Aren’t you afraid of being dumped and humiliated after scheming your way into a man’s car?” Chloe gritted her teeth, her voice carrying across the room. The entire office heard her little speech. As a result, the looks my colleagues gave me were tinged with contempt. I took a deep breath, suppressing the fury in my heart and the urge to shove her head into the trash can. Finally, I let out a cold laugh, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear: “Do you know why the monk Fo Yin saw Buddha when he looked at Su Dongpo, but Su Dongpo saw a pile of dung when he looked at Fo Yin?” Chloe froze, not understanding the reference at all. However, a few other colleagues almost burst out laughing. I ignored her and went back to work. About ten minutes later, I heard someone yelling from the direction of the restroom: “Mia, you are dead meat!” Looks like… she finally figured it out. 4 That evening as we were getting off work, Chloe suddenly stood up and announced she was treating everyone to dinner. Everyone had to go; refusing meant disrespecting her. A few female colleagues with children had to pick them up after work. Being suddenly told they had to go to dinner put them in a difficult position, their faces showing their stress. I didn’t want to go anyway, so I spoke up before they could. “I’m not going. I have plans.” “Mia, you’re already anti-social enough at work. I’m giving you a chance to bond with everyone, and you’re refusing? Are you just unwilling to hang out with us? What, you’re poor but still a snob?” I honestly didn’t know how she concluded I was poor, or why she kept emphasizing it. I figured any girl with an average income, if told she was poor often enough, would probably start believing it herself. “I’m not going because I have plans. What does that have to do with being a snob?” I frowned, already very annoyed. “Are you the only one with plans? Look at Sarah and the others, they have kids at home. Did they make excuses?” Chloe’s self-righteous attitude was truly obnoxious. “Yeah, Mia, you’re being too aloof. If those of us with kids can make it, why can’t you?” Sarah chimed in, trying to persuade me. I had only spoken up because I saw they were uncomfortable refusing. Since they were now acting like they genuinely wanted to go, I didn’t have any strong objections. The place Chloe took us to was an upscale restaurant near the office, the kind that costs hundreds of dollars per person. For regular employees at our company, it was definitely a place they’d be reluctant to spend their own money on. Let alone the fact that we were seated directly in a private dining room. Everyone bent over backward praising Chloe, saying how it truly showed she was wealthy to eat at a place like this. “She’s not just regular wealthy. Do you guys know this restaurant? Normal people can’t even get a private room; you have to be a VIP. And to become a VIP here, you have to load at least ten thousand dollars onto a membership card upfront.” Sarah’s eyes sparkled as she looked around, reading aloud the information she had just Googled about the restaurant. Instantly, the admiration for Chloe in the room skyrocketed. Chloe’s smile was exceptionally radiant. “It’s just a VIP card, it’s not that big of a deal.” As if she truly didn’t care about the ten thousand dollars. I sat in the corner, not saying a word, just hoping we’d finish eating soon so I could go home and rest. The waiter came in to take our order. Chloe casually ordered a few dishes, then passed the menu to the person next to her, telling everyone to order whatever they liked. They looked at the menu and, seeing the prices, were hesitant to order anything. Finally, a few of the male colleagues stepped up and ordered two dishes. Chloe eventually placed the menu in my hands. “Mia, don’t say I didn’t treat you right. Order whatever you want. After all, this might be the only time in your life you’ll ever eat at a place like this.” I took the menu but didn’t open it. I just looked up at the waiter and said, “I’ll have the hot and sour shredded potatoes. Hold the vinegar.” Everyone in the room froze, their eyes even carrying a hint of mockery. Chloe burst out laughing. “Mia, do you think this is some cheap takeout joint? We don’t have something as low-class as hot and sour shredded potatoes on this menu.” I shrugged. “If that’s the case, never mind. I’m good.” She sneered and flipped open the drink menu. “What do you want to drink?” Everyone knew the drinks here were expensive, so they declined, saying whatever she ordered was fine. Chloe raised an eyebrow triumphantly and shot another malicious look my way. “Mia, since you couldn’t find anything to eat earlier, why don’t you pick the drinks?” “I’ll just take a Budweiser,” I said without batting an eye, not even reaching for the drink menu she held out. This time, my colleagues finally couldn’t hold back their laughter. The one laughing the loudest was, naturally, Chloe. She clutched her stomach, practically bent over. “Mia, you’ve never been to a high-end restaurant, so you probably don’t know. Places like this don’t sell Budweiser. Forget it, you wouldn’t know what to order anyway. I’ll do it.” I didn’t care at all. “Is that so? Well, thank you for showing me the world.” The waiter glanced at me but said nothing. After taking Chloe’s drink order, he left the room. The food came out quickly here, and soon the waiters were filling the table with delicacies. My colleagues kept marveling at how different the food at high-end restaurants was, snapping photos non-stop. Even the male colleagues couldn’t resist pulling out their phones. I was the only one not doing anything. Until a waiter walked in holding a plate of hot and sour shredded potatoes and a bottle of Budweiser, respectfully placing them right in front of me. Everyone was stunned. The room fell completely silent. I could even hear someone gasp. “This… we didn’t order this,” Chloe said in a panic. She hadn’t seen these items on the food or drink menus! “This is complimentary from the house for this lady,” the waiter replied, looking up with a professional smile. Without waiting for Chloe’s reaction, he turned and left the room. I sighed inwardly. It seemed I had been recognized. This restaurant belonged to my uncle, and my family often had gatherings here. I thought keeping a low profile would keep me unrecognized, but the waiter had a sharp eye. Because of these two items, an eerie silence settled over the room, the atmosphere incredibly awkward. I was the only one casually eating my hot and sour shredded potatoes. “Mia, you… what’s your relationship with this restaurant?” Sarah cleared her throat, asking on behalf of everyone. I swallowed my food and took a slow sip of the ice-cold Budweiser. It was refreshing. “I don’t have any relationship with this restaurant.” I just have a relationship with the owner. Then, I smiled brightly at Chloe. “I really thought they didn’t have shredded potatoes and Budweiser here, but it turns out they do!” Chloe’s face visibly darkened, and eventually, she could only force an awkward laugh and invite everyone to eat. I smiled and didn’t continue the topic, instead quietly eating my food. At the table, everyone was still very enthusiastic toward Chloe, but their attitude toward me had noticeably softened. This made Chloe’s expression increasingly sour; she barely made it to the end of the dinner. Leaving the restaurant, Chloe maintained a polite smile, but her initial smugness was gone. Some colleagues called designated drivers, others hailed Ubers. I looked around, spotted a public bike, and prepared to ride it back, since I lived close by. As I pushed the bike in front of everyone to say goodbye. I clearly saw Chloe’s eyes light up. “Mia, you… you’re riding a public bike home?” She purposefully raised her voice, acting like she had just witnessed something scandalous. “Can you really not even afford an Uber?” I nodded. “I live close by; there’s no need for an Uber.” “Close by? Mia, if you’re going to lie, shouldn’t you at least do some research first? This isn’t the slums. How could you possibly afford to live around here?” At this, my colleagues all looked at me, their eyes clearly agreeing with Chloe. “Actually, there are some residential areas nearby. Maybe Mia really does live close,” Jessica chimed in, probably feeling awkward for me and speaking up in my defense for once. “Ha, the residential areas nearby? Jessica, you’re as poor as Mia, so you probably don’t know, but do you have any idea how expensive the housing is around here? It’s not a place someone who rides a public bike can afford.” Chloe sneered dismissively and casually unlocked her BMW. “Does anyone need a ride?” Immediately, a few of the younger girls behind her raised their hands. “That would be great, thank you, Chloe. You’re the best.” As the BMW drove away, I clearly saw the contemptuous look Chloe shot me through the window. I was speechless that one sentence from me could elicit such disgust from her. “Mia, are you… are you really going to ride that bike home? It’ll take forever, won’t it?” Jessica looked at me with concern. “Why don’t we split an Uber?” “No thanks, I really don’t live far. I don’t need a ride.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “413031”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel