I transmigrated into a redemption novel as the mafia heiress. The male lead was the adopted son I had bullied in every possible way. The illegitimate daughter—the original female lead—stood before me, aggressive and self-righteous: “You bitch, I won’t let you hurt him again!” But in the very next second, she was violently grabbed by the throat by the usually silent, brooding male lead. My eyes curved into a smile, though my expression remained perfectly innocent. “Don’t provoke me. When he goes crazy, he might actually kill you.” 01 The timing of my transmigration into this book was impeccable. The male lead had just been assigned by my father to be “my” bodyguard. Though he agreed in silence, having read the whole book, I knew he was far from submissive. He believed only in the strong. And he despised “me,” a fragile, spoiled mob princess. Moreover, “my” original personality was arrogant and cruel. I took pleasure in tormenting him, making him loathe “me” to the core. But out of a sense of duty to repay his debt to my family, he swallowed all the bitterness, his personality growing increasingly dark and withdrawn. And that was exactly what gave the illegitimate daughter, the female lead, the chance to “redeem” him. Earning his absolute, undivided loyalty in return. But now that I was here, I naturally wouldn’t let her succeed. I went straight to my father and proposed a sparring match between the male lead and me. Whoever landed the first solid hit won, and the winner would be the boss. In the sparring ring, I stared blankly at the handsome boy across from me, speaking loudly: “Show me everything you’ve got. I won’t hold back.” The boy narrowed his eyes slightly and silently dropped into an offensive stance. “Begin!” At the command, the match started. At first, his attitude was dismissive, but as my attacks grew relentless, he had to take it seriously. Eventually, I found an opening and landed a solid punch squarely on his left cheek. He let out a muffled groan, stumbling back a few steps and crashing into the ropes. He stared at me in shock. “You—” I raised an eyebrow, my tone freezing cold: “Declan, you lose.” 02 From then on, I became Declan’s undisputed boss. He challenged me frequently after that, even encouraging other guys in the syndicate to spar with me, but they all ended in failure. After all, in my past life, I was a top-tier martial artist. This result wasn’t a surprise to me. But when Declan got accidentally injured during one of our bouts, he couldn’t help but ask: “Why do you push yourself so hard every time…?” I glanced at him, my expression dead serious. “I know you’ve always looked down on me. Actually, it’s not just you. A lot of people think I’m just a spoiled heiress who only knows how to spend money. I went all out today not just for you, but to prove to everyone that my father’s daughter is not useless.” His expression shifted, a flash of guilt crossing his face. After a moment of silence, he spoke with genuine sincerity: “I’m sorry. I misjudged you before.” I waved it off. “I don’t need your apology. I need your loyalty.” Declan froze. I locked eyes with him, enunciating every word: “Declan, I want you to swear that you will never betray me.” The moment the words left my mouth, Declan didn’t hesitate. He dropped to one knee at my feet, his expression devout: “I, Declan, swear that in this life, I will never betray my Lady, Harper Vance.” Looking at him, the smile on my lips deepened. Declan was a man of his word. Once he made a promise, he would never go back on it. How many steps does it take to conquer a man? First, become a tiger, then become a cat. I subdued him with force first, then moved him with my attitude. Father this, father that—I didn’t care about any of that. I was just really curious. Now that I had taken the upper hand, what was the female lead going to do? 03 In the blink of an eye, five years passed. I was a junior in college today, but I had already taken over parts of my father’s legitimate businesses and moved into an apartment closer to campus. But today, I received a sudden phone call from my father summoning me back home. Sitting in the car heading back to the estate, I curled the corner of my mouth: “Declan, I think something interesting is going to happen today.” Declan’s deep eyes landed on my face, his voice low: “I will keep you safe, Miss.” I raised an eyebrow, a smile as sweet as honey on my face. Male lead, your female lead is about to make her entrance today. I wanted to see if the plot could still force its way back on track. If it couldn’t, I’d just have to kill you. After all, even though my identity was technically stolen, I had worked hard for my achievements these past years. I wasn’t about to hand them over to anyone. Walking into the mansion, I immediately spotted the girl sitting next to my father. She was wearing a pink dress, her eyes watery, clinging to my father’s arm looking timid and helpless. My father held her hand gently, but the look he gave me carried a warning. He said coldly, “Harper, this is your sister, Mia. From now on, she is the second daughter of this house. You need to take good care of her.” Mia. Like a delicate jewel. It seemed my father truly doted on her. I smiled faintly, walked right up to Mia, raised my hand, and slapped her hard across the face. Everyone in the room paled. My father immediately shielded Mia, roaring in fury, “Harper Vance, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Mia covered her face, tears sliding down her cheeks like a tragic heroine, making anyone want to pity her. It truly was pathetic. If I hadn’t known the wild ambition hidden inside this woman, I might have been fooled too. I raised my eyes, staring back at my father fearlessly, my voice cold: “Father, it’s one thing to hide a bastard child away, but bringing her into our home? Are you trying to humiliate me?” My father was enraged, slamming his hand on the table. “Harper, are you trying to start a war?! How dare you speak to me like that!” Declan instantly stepped in front of me. Seeing this, my father’s face turned completely livid. I smiled and waved my hand, and only then did Declan carefully step back behind me. I continued, “Besides, if you brought the kid back, how could you just leave the mother out on the streets?” As I spoke, I slowly approached Uncle Arthur, a founding member of the syndicate and my father’s right-hand man. I tossed a stack of photos right into a woman’s face nearby and flashed a brilliant smile. “Aunt Evelyn, you’ve been having an affair with my father for all these years, and the kid is already this old. Tell me, did Uncle Arthur know about this?” 04 The photos scattered across the floor, showing a man and a woman in various intimate positions, leaving everyone dumbfounded. Aunt Evelyn’s face went deathly pale. She stumbled backward, lost her footing, and fell to the floor. In the very next second, Uncle Arthur grabbed her by the hair and slapped her three times across the face. Her face immediately swelled up, but she was still trying to defend herself: “These are fake! It’s not real!” But seeing her get hit, Mia panicked and instinctively screamed, “Mom!” The final nail in the coffin. I burst out laughing, reckless and loud. “Oh my, your daughter just admitted it.” Seeing that the situation was unsalvageable, my father tried to step in to stop the chaos. But Uncle Arthur, consumed by rage, started brawling with my father. The entire grand hall descended into absolute chaos. I watched the scene coldly, but a smile touched my lips. “Declan, it’s time for us to go.” Declan nodded. But just as we reached the door, we were blocked. Mia glared at me, her eyes practically shooting fire. “You crazy bitch, you orchestrated all of this!” Then, she looked at Declan, her eyes shining, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Declan, she’s a terrible woman! I’m here to save you!” But the moment the words left her mouth, Declan grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air. She looked shocked, her face draining of color. She stared wide-eyed in terror, completely unable to comprehend what was happening. I looked straight into her eyes, my smile innocent and naive, but my gaze as cold as an ice pick: “Be a good girl and don’t provoke me. When he goes crazy, he might actually kill you.” I never thought Mia would be stupid enough to try and turn him against me right to my face. Did she really think Declan would just leave with her? Besides, I hadn’t abused Declan once in all these years. What was there to “save” him from? Unless she was still operating on the plot of the original timeline. At that thought, a glint of malice flashed in my eyes. This game just got a lot more interesting. 05 In the end, the incident was swept under the rug. I don’t know what my father promised Uncle Arthur, but Arthur actually swallowed the humiliation of being cuckolded. My father even threw a lavish banquet to officially announce Mia’s identity. As for Evelyn, my father obviously wasn’t stupid enough to marry her. He might have liked her, but he loved his reputation more. He wouldn’t let everyone know he was the kind of scum who slept with his subordinate’s wife for years. Furthermore, since Uncle Arthur forgave my father out of self-interest, he could only take all his anger out on Evelyn. Declan handed me a few photos, speaking softly: “The Boss sent her abroad.” In the photos, Evelyn was tearfully saying goodbye to my father. She was bundled up heavily, but you could still see horrifying bruises on her skin. She even needed someone to support her just to walk. “Looks like Uncle Arthur didn’t hold back.” I gently swirled the red wine in my glass, saying nonchalantly, “Those in power tolerate things for profit. Those at the bottom act without consequence.” Tsk, the inherent flaws of men. I took a sip of wine and asked, “Her daughter is now an official Vance, which makes her a legitimate heir. She plotted for years for this exact outcome. Why would she leave so easily? What did my father promise her?” Declan pulled out a tissue and gently wiped a drop of wine from the corner of my mouth before replying, “The Boss promised her he’d bring her back in a few years. But privately, he gave orders that she is never allowed to return.” After making sure I was clean, he didn’t throw the tissue away; instead, he slipped it into his pocket. I looked up at him, but he met my gaze with total composure, looking as innocent as if he hadn’t done anything weird at all. Of course, it would have been more convincing if the tips of his ears weren’t burning red. I smiled faintly. Just then, a soft voice came from behind. “Sister, Declan, what are you two talking about? You look so happy.” I turned to see my father and Mia, dressed in an elaborate evening gown. Her eyes landed on Declan, a blush of awe spreading across her cheeks. Having someone covet what was mine displeased me, but outwardly I smiled and said, “We were just talking about Aunt Evelyn.” Seeing her face stiffen, my gaze bounced between her and my father. My voice carried a hint of mock regret: “Sister, did you know Aunt Evelyn was sent away? And she’s never coming back.” Mia forced a smile, her expression remaining submissive. “That was Father’s decision. I wouldn’t know.” I raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Declan. It seemed Mia did know about my father’s order banning Evelyn from returning. The bond between mother and daughter was apparently quite shallow. Mia’s gaze returned to Declan. She said pitifully, “Father, I just got home, and I’m so scared. I’d only feel safe if I had someone as strong as Declan to protect me.” The smile instantly vanished from my face, my expression darkening. 06 My father clearly doted on her, and he probably wanted to dilute my power anyway, so he readily commanded, “Then from now on, Declan will protect you.” Mia was ecstatic. “Really? That’s wonderful—” Saying that, she stepped forward, reaching out to grab Declan’s arm. I caught her wrist, my voice ice-cold: “I don’t agree.” My father froze. “What?” I stared coldly at my father, my voice even colder: “Declan is my man.” My father’s face darkened, his brows furrowing as he barked angrily, “Harper! Declan hasn’t been your personal guard for years. You don’t need him to protect you anymore! Your sister is new here. As her older sister, shouldn’t you be a little more accommodating?” “On this matter, there is no negotiation.” I refused to yield an inch. I spent years training him; I wasn’t about to hand him over to someone else. Besides, after working together for years, Declan was like my right arm. Losing him wouldn’t kill me, but it would hurt, and I didn’t like that. Especially giving him to Mia. Even setting that aside, if I handed Declan over to her now, the outside world would think I was weak and easy to bully. Then everyone would think they could walk all over me. I had no interest in letting that happen. Seeing my father furious, Mia tearfully supported his arm and said, “Sister, I know you can’t accept me, but Father makes the rules in this house. How can you be so unreasonable! Furthermore,” her gaze fell on Declan, and she continued, “even if you look down on Declan, he’s still a person. He’s not your property. We should respect his wishes.” Look down on Declan? I glanced at Declan, who was completely expressionless, and suddenly laughed. “Alright.” Mia didn’t expect me to concede. She shot me a look, then eagerly walked up to Declan, asking softly, “Declan, are you willing to follow me? I will definitely treat you well and won’t let anyone bully you.” She looked at him with eyes full of expectation, as if she were looking at her lover. Unfortunately, Declan took a resistant step back and said in a deep voice, “I only wish to follow the Young Lady.” Mia hadn’t expected to be rejected by Declan either. Her expression instantly froze on her face. Seeing this, my father glared furiously. “Declan! You dare disobey my orders?! Have you forgotten who saved you?!” But Declan didn’t hesitate, repeating his words clearly, syllable by syllable: “I, Declan, only wish to follow the Young Lady!” My father exploded in rage, smashing his wine glass violently onto the floor. “Declan—!” The glass shattered instantly, shards flying everywhere. Declan’s expression changed, and he quickly pulled me into his arms. I was completely unharmed, but Mia got cut, leaving several red lines across her pale arm. She was angry and in pain, but she didn’t dare lash out. I looked at the scratch on Declan’s cheek, my eyes churning with anger. I pushed Declan away, walked up to my father, and seeing his cold face, I was entirely unmoved. “Don’t push it too far.” My father was so angry his face twisted, his trembling finger pointing at me. “You… are you trying to stage a coup?! This is MY family!” I let out a cold laugh. My father really was getting old. He had completely lost the ability to read the room. From the affair being exposed to throwing this ridiculous banquet, he had already caused a lot of dissatisfaction. Furthermore, compared to an aging, confused boss, the syndicate wanted a sharp, capable leader. Otherwise, why would I be so fearless? I smiled faintly. “How could I? I’m your most dutiful daughter.” Saying that, I glanced up at him and sighed lightly. “Unless, of course, you piss me off.” 07 My father looked around, only to realize that my subordinates were just watching them coldly, with no intention of helping him. His face turned a mix of purple and green. Furious and humiliated, he stomped upstairs. Leaving Mia and the others behind at the banquet. I looked at her with a smile. Her eyes shot daggers of hatred and jealousy, looking like she wanted to eat me alive. Declan stepped forward, blocking her line of sight. Mia’s expression twisted slightly, and she eventually turned and left. In the car ride home, Declan frowned slightly, looking down and saying, “Miss, she’s very strange.” I was resting my head on his lap with my eyes closed. Hearing this, I opened my eyes and looked up. “Oh?” Seeing me open my eyes, Declan’s body stiffened for a second before he casually explained, “She’s very certain that you treat me terribly. And she’s approached me privately many times, telling me to leave you.” I smiled sweetly, not surprised by his sharp intuition. “Maybe she really does know something.” I closed my eyes again, enjoying his massage, thinking to myself: How interesting. It seems Mia really is the female lead from the book I read. So, was she reborn? Or did she transmigrate too? That question was answered very quickly. Mia came to find me herself. She looked at me with absolute certainty, her voice cold: “I know you’re not from this world. Let me tell you, I am the real female lead. Declan belongs to me. No matter what you do, it’s useless. And you’re definitely not my match!” “Your match?” I set down my coffee cup and said nonchalantly, “You’re not even qualified to be my opponent.” Mia’s expression shifted, and she said through gritted teeth, “Harper Vance, don’t get too arrogant! You just got here first and took the advantage. But now that I’m here, I will definitely put everything back on track! Do you really think you can change the ending?!” I looked at her coldly, not saying a word. Seeing how little I cared about her, a look of vicious hatred surfaced in Mia’s eyes. “Just you wait! Everything I’ve lost, I will take back!” I blinked and smiled faintly: “I’ll be waiting.” It seemed Mia had transmigrated too. At first, she probably thought she had the ultimate plot armor and didn’t take me seriously. But now, she was rushing over to threaten me. It seemed she realized the plot had changed, and my power wasn’t something she could easily shake. So what was she going to do? I was really looking forward to it. 08 The year I graduated, I successfully entered the corporation and became the General Manager. But in reality, I had been the one pulling the strings for a long time. The underworld. That hadn’t been sustainable in the US for years. I spent years planning the transition, legitimizing the syndicate’s operations and turning it into a publicly traded company. Now, the corporation was booming. The old gang bosses had transformed into shareholders, making a fortune every year, all legally. They didn’t have to live in constant fear like in the old days. Naturally, they supported me. As for my father, although he was still the CEO, he was a spent force. At the general shareholders’ meeting, they proposed a transfer of power for the fifth time. I looked at my father’s ashen face and smirked. As expected, right after the meeting, he came knocking. With Mia following close behind. He said in a low voice, “Harper, I’m willing to step down from the corporation, but I have one condition.” Without even looking up, I said flatly, “If it’s about making arrangements for Mia, the answer is no.” He glared at me, growling, “Do you have to back her into a corner? She’s your sister!” I stopped writing and looked up. The two of them were huddled together, leaning on each other like a pathetic pair. I smiled brilliantly. “You must be joking, Father. I barely acknowledge you, let alone a bastard child.” “Harper Vance—” My father grew even more furious. I slammed my pen onto the desk, cutting him off. “Father, I’m willing to call you Father because I don’t want to make things ugly and ruin the Vance family’s image. But,” I stared at them coldly, a hint of anger flashing in my eyes, “you should know better than anyone that when you sent hitmen to assassinate me multiple times over the past few years, whatever bond we had died.” Both of their faces changed. Mia looked at me in horror. “How did you know…” I ignored her, staring dead at my father, my voice sharp: “Father, the Vance family is no longer your absolute dictatorship. You can choose to leave with dignity, or you can be forcefully kicked out. I’m only giving you this choice once.” My father looked at me with a mix of shock and rage. I stared back without yielding an inch. After a long moment, his face turned grey, and he silently backed out of the office. Mia quickly chased after him. After they left, Declan’s eyes narrowed slightly, flashing with a dangerous, cold light: “I should have killed him! “I should kill them both!” I stood up and gently touched his face. Seeing him blush slightly, my expression softened, completely devoid of the harshness from moments ago. “Death is too easy for them. That’s not what I want.” If people don’t mess with me, I don’t mess with them. Since my father and Mia dared to provoke me repeatedly and tried to have me killed… Then they needed to be prepared to be crushed. 09 After that day, my father didn’t step down from the corporation. And I wasn’t in a hurry. Because something much more interesting was happening. “BREAKING! The Oracle Mia Invests in Shusha Pharmaceuticals! Retail Investors Follow Suit!” “Shusha Pharmaceuticals Stock Skyrockets by Hundreds of Millions in 10 Hours! Experts Warn of Risks, Advise Against Blind Following!” Mia’s name hung high on the Twitter trending page. Over the past six months, Mia had been popping up all over the internet. She frequently placed bets on the stock market, and every single time it was a massive success. The word spread quickly, and she became known as the infallible “Oracle of Wall Street.” She was now the most anticipated stock guru among retail investors. Many financial experts advised against blindly following her, but with little success. I opened the comment sections. As expected, it was full of worship for Mia and insults directed at the experts. “What garbage experts! Last time they said not to follow, and guess what? My friend made tens of millions overnight!” “These trash experts probably secretly bought the stock themselves.” “The Oracle Mia is amazing. 100% win rate. I’d be an idiot to listen to these fake experts.” Many reporters rushed over, fighting to interview Mia. “Ms. Vance, we heard you invested in Shusha Pharmaceuticals this time, and a massive number of investors have followed your lead. Do you have anything to say?” Mia curled her lips, brimming with confidence. “Thank you to the investors for their trust. The outcome this time will definitely make everyone even more satisfied.” Her absolute certainty sparked even more frantic discussion among her rabid fans. I turned off the TV, smiling comfortably. “I like her confidence.” “Shusha Pharmaceuticals does have a lot of room for growth. It’s a guaranteed win this time.” Declan scrolled through the live stock market feed on his tablet, looking up at me. “Miss, should we release the information we’ve gathered?” I waved my hand. “Wait a little longer.” Wait until it gets really fun. 10 Unsurprisingly, after one cycle, Shusha Pharmaceuticals’ stock skyrocketed, becoming a massive dark horse. The investors who followed Mia made a killing, while those who didn’t were beating their chests in regret. The Oracle Mia’s reputation reached its zenith overnight, even surpassing A-list celebrities. Many interviews and reports scrambled to invite her on. On a reality TV show, Mia looked like she was about to cry, whispering pitifully, “My sister asked me before who I was going to invest in next. She looked so scary at the time, I didn’t dare say it. I didn’t expect her to threaten me into only telling her my investment picks. I didn’t want to leave my father…” Overnight, the entire internet was flooded with attacks against the Vance Corporation and me: “SHOCKING! Vance Family Scandal Exposed: Eldest Daughter Usurps CEO For Years!” “Harper Vance Threatens The Oracle, Forcing Her Out Of The Family Unless She Stops Publicly Sharing Stock Tips!” I didn’t have the PR department suppress the information. Instead, I sat back and watched the rumors spread. I even voluntarily accepted an interview with a reporter. “Ms. Vance, do you have anything to say about the situation online? Did you threaten The Oracle into not sharing her investment information?” I nodded. “Yes, I did say that.” “Are you trying to keep the profits all to yourself?” “Keep the profits to myself?” I shot the reporter a sideways glance, sneering disdainfully. “What a joke. Since when has the Vance family ever cared about pocket change?” The reporter froze, his face flushing with embarrassment. The Vance Corporation was a massive publicly traded company. Why would they care about a few million dollars in minor assets? I looked around, my expression serious. “The stock market is unstable. Investments require caution. Once retail investors flood frantically into a single stock, it inevitably destroys the market’s equilibrium. In extreme cases, it can cause the market to crash. Do you all really want to experience another economic bubble?” “This…” The financial reporters present looked at each other, unable to find words to argue back. I continued, “In my opinion, blindly following trends is stupid. Being so certain about winning in the stock market that it causes mass herding is even more stupid. I merely warned her as her older sister and as a participant in the market. You can listen if you want, or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me.” With that, I prepared to leave. But an entertainment reporter blocked me, asking urgently, “What about the rumors of you usurping power? Why doesn’t the second daughter have a position in the corporation? Wasn’t she maliciously driven out by you?” I turned back, facing the camera, and smiled contemptuously. “Does an illegitimate child deserve to enter the corporation?” With one sentence, I completely exposed Mia’s identity. But it enraged Mia’s rabid fans in the crowd. They charged at me, brandishing knives. “Don’t you dare slander our Oracle! Go to hell!” Declan’s eyes flashed. With one kick, he sent the attacker flying several feet away. The bodyguards instantly swarmed in, pinning the attackers to the ground. I didn’t even spare them a glance, turning and leaving with Declan.

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While waiting in line at the hospital for my follow-up appointment, the massive TV screen in the lobby was broadcasting the live feed of an international film festival. During the acceptance speech, he didn’t say a single word. Instead, in front of the entire world, he made a phone call. And then, my phone rang… 1 I clutched my appointment slip, shivering slightly under the blast of the air conditioning. My lower abdomen still ached with a dull throb. It had been three months since I was discharged, and I was back for a check-up. But I didn’t expect to see him everywhere I went. I stared blankly at the large screen. It was broadcasting a prestigious film festival in Europe, and the camera was zoomed in on the young American filmmaker holding the gold trophy. His features were so familiar, yet so foreign. Elias Thorne. The visionary director. He had reached the peak of the industry the moment he debuted. Over the last two years, his masterpiece Spring Awakening had swept every domestic award, and now, he had just taken home Best Director on the international stage. It had been years since someone so young had stood on that stage. Even the hospital’s waiting room TV had been switched to the live broadcast ten minutes ago. The whole country was watching, bursting with pride. Elias was exactly how I remembered him—radiant, blinding, and utterly mesmerizing. “Our movies are finally taking the world by storm! I’m so proud I could die. I don’t even feel my sickness anymore,” a patient nearby whispered. “It’s unfair enough that Elias is a genius, but does he also have to look better than Hollywood’s top leading men?” “Shh, be quiet. He’s about to give his speech.” The people around me were practically vibrating with excitement, holding their breath to hear his acceptance speech. I tilted my head back, looking at the screen. Under the spotlight, Elias didn’t say a word. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and pressed it to his ear. I could hardly believe it. In front of the whole world, he was making a phone call. During his acceptance speech. And then, the phone resting on my lap began to ring. An unknown international number flashed beautifully across the screen. A ridiculous, absurd thought rose in my chest. The people around me turned to look, their expressions a mix of disbelief and weirdness. They muttered, “What a coincidence,” and turned back to the screen. It really was a coincidence. A coincidence so perfect I almost deluded myself into thinking Elias was actually calling me. I picked up my phone, my fingertips trembling. Suddenly, the kid in the seat next to me swung his arm, and smack—my phone went flying across the floor. The ringing had already annoyed a few people, who shot me irritated glares. I bit my lip and hurriedly bent down to pick it up. Just as my fingers brushed the screen, the kid suddenly yanked on my beanie. A cold draft hit my scalp. The ringing stopped at that exact moment. The screen lit up with a missed call. The kid spoke with the cruel innocence only children possess: “Lady, why don’t you have any hair? You look scary.” The polished hospital floor reflected my pale, bald scalp. Yes, I didn’t have any hair. Yes, I looked scary. I looked up again. On the big screen, the young man had already finished his silent “speech,” his expression slightly cold. Starlight, glamour, the center of the world. That was Elias’s life. The intercom finally called my name. “Number eighty-six, April Hayes. Clinic Room Three.” I answered. This was my life. 2 The check-up results were decent, which was the only good news I’d had lately. I lay on my couch, scrolling through social media. Ever since Elias won the award, every platform had been flooded with his name for half a month straight. Reporters ambushed him at the airport, throwing questions at him that he refused to answer. “Director Thorne, who exactly was that highly-anticipated phone call for?” Escorted by bodyguards in black, he finally turned his head and answered the only question he would entertain. He was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but the smile on his lips was dripping with sarcasm. Elias said, “The person I hate the most.” Calling the person you hate the most during your acceptance speech. Anyone could tell there was some serious baggage there. Soon enough, Hollywood insiders started leaking rumors. The person Elias loved and hated so deeply was supposedly the rising B-list starlet, Vivian Vance. The two had known each other since college, and their dramatic history could fill an eighty-episode soap opera. I opened my call log and stared at that missed international call. The day I walked out of the clinic, I tried calling that number back. Over and over again. No one ever answered. It was probably just a spam call. Whatever. 3 “Vivian Vance really hit the jackpot. Tying her name to Elias Thorne? She’s going to have so many scripts thrown at her she won’t be able to carry them.” Maggie, my manager, indignantly yanked the curtains open, letting the sunlight spill right into my eyes. Another trending topic had just hit Twitter: #VivianVanceAprilHayes. Clicking on it revealed a sea of pure hatred directed at me. Vivian had climbed the ladder by stepping on my neck. She debuted in college doing teen dramas, but somehow, her career stalled, and she stumbled her way into becoming a rom-com sidekick. Meanwhile, I used to be “America’s Sweetheart.” The kind of actress people couldn’t help but smile at when they saw my picture. That was until I saved a drugged Vivian at a Hollywood industry mixer. The security footage was leaked and selectively edited to make it look like I was the one offering up a junior actress to a powerful studio executive. People used to call me the Girl Next Door. After that incident, they called me the Hollywood Fixer. Throughout the entire scandal, Vivian didn’t say a single word. Not one word to clear my name. Instead, she played the role of the perfect victim. She booked several major roles out of the sympathy wave and skyrocketed from a nobody to a household name. Right around that time, I was diagnosed with cancer. I quietly stepped away from the industry, only to have people send funeral wreaths to my front door telling me to die. Maggie, my manager, was heartbroken for me. She cursed the netizens for being vile, but I just laughed and joked, “It’s fine, the wreaths will save us money on my funeral.” I genuinely thought I was going to die back then. I never expected to somehow survive until today. My hair fell out, my body wasted away, and I completely forgot how to smile genuinely. But I was still alive. With Vivian’s popularity surging again, her PR team dragged my name out to beat a dead horse. “Does April Hayes think hiding from the industry makes it okay? Come out and apologize!” “April the Fixer bullied our innocent girl. Disgusting.” “Is April Hayes even still alive?” That was the rhetoric in her fan groups. The hashtag with my name was climbing the charts when suddenly, a bright red “BREAKING” tag parachuted into the number one spot: #EliasThorneRealityShow. 4 The Real You was a highly anticipated reality show that had been in the works since last year. It was trending because rumors said Elias Thorne was joining the cast. Elias was notoriously private. Even though his popularity had peaked over the last two days, the press still couldn’t dig up any new information on him. Rumor had it that not only was he joining the show, but he would also be choosing the lead for his next film from among the cast members. Suddenly, getting a spot on that show became a bloodbath. Maggie looked at the rumor mill and sighed wistfully. “If you could just get on this show, I bet you could clear your name and make a comeback.” We both laughed. I was trying to make a comeback now, but I couldn’t even book a commercial, let alone a spot on a premium reality show. Pennies don’t just fall from heaven. And capitalists don’t run charities. 5 But this time, a penny really did fall from heaven. Standing in front of the Malibu beach house where The Real You was filming, I still couldn’t quite believe it. I was wearing a high-quality wig and a full face of makeup. I just looked like a much thinner version of my old self. Before I left, Maggie told me this was my chance to turn things around. Honestly, whether I cleared my name or not wasn’t that important to me. I just wanted to live for one more day, and bring the audience a little joy for one more day. Facing the familiar camera lenses, I pulled out my signature “America’s Sweetheart” smile. Suddenly, the cameraman pivoted, pointing the lens right behind me. I turned around, and the smile froze on my face. Elias and Vivian were walking up together, the ocean breeze catching their clothes. Elias had fully grown into his features—he looked absolutely striking. “Eli…” I managed to get the first syllable out before my throat closed up. He and Vivian brushed right past me. He didn’t spare me a single glance. I kept my head down, staring at my shoes, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. I was glad he was still shining, still mesmerizing. It made my own gray, fading existence feel a little less pathetic. “You.” Vivian suddenly turned around, pointing at the suitcase behind her, addressing me. “Carry this to my room.” I looked around. Vivian curled her lips into a smirk, pointing straight at me. “Yes, you. April Hayes.” It was incredibly jarring. She had been playing the innocent, sweet girl-next-door for two years, but in front of me, she dropped the act completely. “Vivian, we’re livestreaming,” I said quietly. The color drained from her face. She instantly switched back to her usual sweet smile, her lips turning pale as she frantically tried to think of a way to salvage the situation. I took my time and added, “Just kidding.” The emotional rollercoaster was too much for her. Realizing she’d been played, she choked on her anger. She looked back and saw that Elias hadn’t waited for her at all and was already far ahead. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her own suitcase and chased after him. The producers had obviously invited me because the bad blood between Vivian and me was guaranteed drama and ratings. Hitting back at her like that was exactly what they wanted. 6 After unpacking in my assigned room, I walked out and bumped right into Elias. His room was directly across from mine. He must have just showered; his bangs were slightly damp. They say fame nourishes a person, and Elias looked more aristocratic than ever. Only the cold distance radiating from him matched the brooding, eccentric boy I once knew. When I tried to call his name earlier, it was pure muscle memory. Now, my rationality had returned. I remembered that he probably didn’t want to talk to me, so I lowered my eyes and waited for him to pass. Instead, a mocking voice floated down from above me. “Did your billionaire boyfriend stop feeding you?” I looked up. Elias’s eyes were cold, his gaze landing on my protruding collarbones. I instinctively pulled my sleeves down to cover my frail wrists and said softly, “I’m on a diet.” He scoffed. “Working hard to marry into money, huh. Dedication.” It was humiliating and incredibly blunt. I opened my mouth to speak. But Elias had already walked downstairs. 7 The Real You had cast some serious heavy hitters. During introductions, everyone rattled off a massive list of blockbuster credits. I had a few hits under my belt too—luckily, the comedies I filmed back in the day had been massive box office successes. But when I finished my introduction, unlike with the others, no one chimed in. The room went dead silent. I was the outlier on this show. Everyone else was either a powerhouse actor or someone with massive backing like Vivian. And then there was me: out of the industry for two years, carrying the weight of a massive, career-ending scandal. No one knew how to handle me, so these industry veterans simply chose silence. A crisp voice broke the tension. Vivian looked at me and said, “Those movies are from years ago. April, what exactly have you been doing for the last two years?” It sounded like genuine curiosity, but her fans had spent two years harassing me, demanding to know why I couldn’t even write an apology letter. Rumors claimed I had vanished to marry a billionaire. A viral Reddit thread had “analyzed” the evidence so convincingly that even I almost believed it. Elias, who hated socializing and had kept his eyes lowered the whole time, suddenly looked up at me. The words I was about to say died in my throat. “I went to experience life and hone my acting skills,” I said, resting my chin on my hand and smiling carelessly. “If someone gives me the role of a dying patient right now, I bet I could go to the Oscars with Director Thorne next time.” It was shameless and arrogant. The room erupted into laughter, easing the awkward tension. Even the tight lines around Elias’s eyes relaxed for a fraction of a second. But only for a fraction of a second. The producers announced a new activity: going out to explore the local town to break the ice. The area had some beautiful scenery. But there was a catch: someone had to stay at the beach house to cook dinner. Compared to going out and exploring, cooking was not only boring but also highly likely to be cut from the final edit. It was a thankless job. The cast members all made excuses about not knowing how to cook, dodging the bullet like the plague. “April knows how.” I looked up in bewilderment, meeting Elias’s dark, heavy eyes. I really didn’t realize he hated me this much—he wouldn’t even give me a chance to get screen time. I actually did know how to cook, and I was pretty good at it. Back in the day, if I made a bowl of noodles, Elias would drink every last drop of the broth. But I couldn’t do it now. My sense of taste was practically gone from the chemo. “I don’t know how—” I instinctively started to refuse, but then I noticed the looks from the other cast members. I swallowed the words, put on a bright smile, and said, “Even if I don’t, I have to learn now. If Director Thorne asks, I must deliver.” A mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Elias was at the top of the world now; his word was law. Even if I really didn’t know how, I’d have to learn on the spot. My mouth tasted bitter. Only now, faced with this reality, did I feel a tiny pang of regret. If only I had never met Elias Thorne. 8 To my surprise, someone volunteered to stay behind and help me. It was Lily, a former child star who had grown into a talented actress, clearly here to vie for the lead in Elias’s new movie. “Don’t take it to heart. He’s just letting Vivian blow off some steam. Director Thorne won’t make things too hard for you,” Lily whispered to me, turning her back to the cameras while washing vegetables. I nodded. Everyone knew Elias and I had no history together (or so they thought). For him to target me out of nowhere, it could only be to avenge Vivian. I stir-fried some greens and asked Lily to taste it. Her face contorted into an expression of pure agony. “April… you really don’t know how to cook, do you?” I gave an awkward laugh and handed the spatula over. I settled for being her sous-chef, washing veggies and carrying plates. Just as dinner was almost ready, a loud, cheerful commotion echoed from the living room. It sounded like they had a great time outside. I poked my head out, ready to call everyone to dinner, only to lock eyes with a pair of incredibly happy ones. Vivian was tugging on Elias’s sleeve, laughing radiantly. The sight burned me. I immediately spun around. Lily looked at me in confusion. I shook my head, signaling I was fine, and silently carried the plates to the dining table. The cast sat down. The food was delicious, and everyone showered Lily with praise. Everyone except Elias. He took one bite, lowered his eyes, and a cold aura settled over him. The moment I saw that look on His Majesty’s face, I had a bad feeling. Sure enough. Elias wiped his mouth with a napkin, his narrow eyes freezing cold. “April Hayes, did you make this?” My face flushed crimson. He was being stubborn, relentless, and deliberately humiliating me. When Elias acted like this, it was just… exhausting. 9 After that incident at the dinner table, everyone got the message loud and clear. In Elias’s eyes, I was blacklisted. The entertainment industry is full of opportunists, and very quickly, I found myself completely isolated. Even Lily, who had kindly lent a hand, was put in an awkward position. I didn’t want to drag her down, so I voluntarily distanced myself from her. That night, after taking a shower, I took off my wig. Fine, dark fuzz had started to grow on my scalp, like new grass in spring. Give it a few more months, and maybe I wouldn’t even need the wig anymore. There were port marks on my collarbone from the treatments, and a surgical scar slashing across my stomach. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was painfully thin, but my eyes were bright. I pulled at my cheeks and forced a smile. “Hey, April.” “Leave them with something better to remember you by.” I took my medication, but I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I threw on a jacket and went out to the hallway balcony to get some air. The distant ocean shimmered under the moonlight, and the breeze carried the sharp scent of saltwater. My tense nerves finally relaxed. I was just about to head back to my room when I heard voices behind me. “Elias, it’s been so many years. Why can’t you let it go? What did I do wrong?” Vivian was crying. My hand tightened on the railing. I instantly knew who she was begging so pitifully. Eavesdropping was wrong, and I was here first, but I was hidden behind a sheer white curtain, so they hadn’t seen me. If I walked out now, I’d bump right into them, which would be impossible to explain. The person on the other side was silent for a long time before replying with two words: “I’m sorry.” I had no idea what Vivian had done to trigger this dramatic saga of love and hate, but it wasn’t my business anyway. Once I heard the sound of retreating footsteps, I waited a little longer. When everything was quiet, I tiptoed out, ready to leave. I turned around and walked right into Elias’s gaze. He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, the cherry glowing like a tiny spark in the dark. He was looking right at me. He had known I was there the whole time. But the first words that blurted out of my mouth were, “You’re smoking?” He used to hate people who smoked and drank. “People change.” He smirked, though I couldn’t tell who he was mocking. 10 People change. But from the very first time I saw Elias, I believed he would always be pure and uncorrupted. It was an inexplicable, aching intuition. Elias transferred to our high school in sophomore year. The moment he walked through the gates, the news spread like wildfire: a ridiculously gorgeous guy had arrived. Back then, I loved to laugh and got along with everyone. I was perpetually cheerful, and bad luck never seemed to touch me. The teacher randomly pointed a finger and entrusted the new student to my care. “April.” I looked up, crashing right into the new kid’s pitch-black eyes. Monolids, looking tired and lazy. “This is your new desk partner. Take good care of him.” I jumped out of my seat with excitement. The teacher had mentioned Elias was a bit “withdrawn.” Later, I realized the teacher was being extremely generous with her words. It was way more than “a bit.” With a face like that—lean, striking, with pale skin—I figured there was no way people would isolate him. I thought his life would be surrounded by friends and noise. I was wrong. It wasn’t that people isolated Elias; it was that he isolated himself from the rest of the world. But in every world, there’s always someone who takes an inch of sunshine and runs a mile with it. Like me. Back then, Elias was covered in thorns; anyone who got close bled. But I had thick skin. He gave me the cold shoulder for an entire year, but he just couldn’t freeze me out. He probably never expected to meet someone like April Hayes, someone who completely ignored social cues. I didn’t want anything from him, really. I just wanted him to be a little happier. I treated everyone around me like that. I wanted everyone to be happy every day. But Elias… was special. I was too young to understand where that “specialness” came from. Until one day, some classmates made a bet on how many eyelashes Elias had. While he was napping at his desk, I leaned in to count them. They were long and thick, framing the elegant slope of his nose. One, two, three. Four, five, six. I counted slowly, kept losing track, and had to start over. The sleeping Elias suddenly raised a hand and covered my eyes. “Stop counting. Go to sleep.” His voice was husky, his palm burning hot against my skin. Thump, thump, thump. Four, five, six. It took me a delayed moment to realize that was the sound of my own violently pounding heart. From then on, there was no going back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “413018”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was on a reality dating show with the reigning Best Actor of Hollywood. To make sure I didn’t ruin his heavily-PR’d “showmance” with the current It Girl, I actively avoided him like the plague. But I underestimated the contrarian nature of modern netizens. After the show aired, the It Girl and the Best Actor were relentlessly mocked for their “artificial, focus-group-tested romance.” Meanwhile, the Best Actor and I—the “Anti-Showmance Duo”—accidentally went viral and broke the internet. Viewers: “They dodge eye contact but look at that chemistry! If they aren’t real, my entire life is a lie!” 1 I was notoriously known as the most problematic actress in my age group. My reputation was built on aggressively “shipping” myself with male co-stars to leach off their fame. Despite having a face sharp enough to cut glass and a killer, sultry vibe, my agency insisted I play the role of the fragile, innocent girl-next-door. Naturally, the internet despised me. They called me fake, manipulative, and a “green tea bitch.” While filming, the male leads’ PR teams would aggressively push for a fake romance. But once the project wrapped, they’d immediately pivot to playing the victim. I took the hate; they took the engagement. Seeing my reputation circle the drain, my agent threw me a lifeline: a live-streamed reality dating show. The strategy? Use my status as the internet’s punching bag to serve as the ultimate background character, thereby highlighting the sincerity and sweetness of the current It Girl, Chloe Vance. But just days before shooting began, news dropped that Silas Vance, an Oscar-winning Best Actor (and absolutely no relation to Chloe), was joining the cast. During my reckless college years, leaning heavily on my status as an upperclassman, I had a brief, embarrassing… incident with the impossibly beautiful, newly-minted star. We were definitely not meant to cross paths again. Thankfully, the producers had already established the show’s tone. Simply put, the entire show was a vehicle to serve the fabricated romance between Silas and Chloe. The rest of us were just props. Which meant I’d have zero interaction with Silas. My only job was to be a good piece of scenery, stay out of the spotlight, and clear the stage for him and Chloe. It was basically a paid vacation. I was thrilled. Getting paid to do absolutely nothing? Sign me up. On the first day of filming, Chloe arrived looking immaculate in a flowing white dress. The moment she stepped out of the car, the live chat exploded. “So THIS is why our Silas lowered himself to do a reality show! The high school sweetheart trope is real!” “Chloe is stunning. Such elegant goddess vibes.” I followed closely behind, makeup-free, wearing a faded t-shirt and shorts, and gave a lazy wave to the camera. The chat took a hard left. “Why is SHE here? So unlucky. Trailing right behind Chloe, trying to steal her thunder.” “But seriously, what is she wearing?! Nursing home chic?” “Reject female rivalry! Vote April Hayes off the island.” Heh. I was far too lazy to compete with them anyway. That would require a pay bump. Until Silas made his entrance, I diligently played the background character, watching the beautiful men and women vie for screen time. The second Silas appeared, I physically maneuvered myself completely out of the frame. I wasn’t even a background character anymore; I was off-screen. When it came to avoiding suspicion, I was a seasoned professional. Silas was the biggest name among us. He had kept a low profile for years, focusing strictly on acting, with zero scandals and almost no variety show appearances. Rumor had it that when the dating show producers first approached him, he flat-out refused. No one knew why he suddenly changed his mind. An A-list Best Actor dropping down to a reality show instantly sparked intense online debate. Everyone assumed he came specifically for Chloe. After all, when Chloe debuted, it was revealed that she and Silas had attended the same high school and college. There were even rumors that Chloe was the “one who got away,” the unattainable first love Silas had carried a torch for, remaining single to this day just waiting for her to look back. In Hollywood, star power is king. The moment Silas stepped out, the entire cast swarmed him, excitedly introducing themselves. When the camera panned to me, I was zoned out, staring at a bowl of sunflower seeds, trying to figure out if they were real or just props. The live chat was buzzing. “Look at her acting all aloof, ignoring our Silas! Doing anything for attention, she’s so pathetic.” “Okay, but honestly… I’m kind of getting her vibe? Even without makeup, she looks good. Effortlessly cool.” “Girl, are you crazy? You think April the Green Tea is cool? Who knows what toxic schemes she’s plotting.” Chloe seamlessly claimed the seat next to Silas. They were wearing complementary colors, looking very much like a couple. The chat was flooded with “A match made in heaven” and “Destined lovers.” I sat far away, cracking sunflower seeds, quietly observing Silas. It had been years. He was even more handsome now, practically oozing a detached, untouchable aura. He looked cold and distant. None of that soft, puppy-dog cuteness from before. The chat went wild. “The Vance-Thorne ship is sailing! Just one frame together and it’s raining pink bubbles. I’m dying!” Chloe casually flipped her hair and covered her mouth with a delicate laugh, sending the chat into a frenzy. “Chloe has so much class. She’s the only pure jasmine flower in the industry. How does April, that cheap knockoff, even dare to compare?” 2 Right at that moment, Silas suddenly looked over at me. I was mid-bite, a sunflower seed halfway to my mouth, and didn’t have time to look away. Our eyes locked. I immediately shifted my gaze to the nearest guy, a cute indie musician, and shot him a dramatic, exaggerated wink. The light in Silas’s eyes instantly darkened. An eagle-eyed viewer immediately commented: “Am I crazy, or did Silas just look… hurt? What did he just see?” “He was definitely looking at April.” “Girl, spit it out, knock on wood! Do not let Silas’s name be in the same sentence as April the Green Tea!” I wholeheartedly agreed with that hater. I didn’t want even a sliver of a connection to Silas. I just wanted to slack off for three months, collect my massive paycheck, and go home. That evening, before the anonymous “heartbeat letters” segment, the producers introduced a mixer. In a bizarre twist, they blindfolded all of us, put us in a confined room, and told us to walk around randomly. Whoever you grabbed was your date for the night. They even gave this ridiculous game a ridiculous name: “Cupid’s Blind Man’s Bluff.” I felt my sanity actively draining. Some netizens were equally unhappy. “This isn’t fair! April the Clout Chaser is definitely going to use this to grope the guys.” “Exactly! No other man is allowed to touch our Chloe! Chloe belongs to Silas.” Without sight, my other senses went into overdrive. In the small room, the sound of breathing overlapped. The accidental brushes of skin made the atmosphere heat up rapidly. I tensed up, frantically trying to parse through the chaos of various perfumes and colognes to identify Silas’s distinct body wash. And then, I actively walked in the opposite direction. The live chat was losing its mind. “The producers are messy for this! Too spicy!” “Chloe, go right! Silas is on the right! Ahhh, they almost bumped into each other!” “Wait, is anyone else noticing April’s pathing? It’s so weird. Holy crap, did she just kick a guy away?!” “Girl, I see it too. April is literally dodging everyone, especially Silas. It’s like she has a radar. This is wild.” “But what’s even crazier is that Silas keeps moving TOWARD April! Everyone else is stumbling around like headless chickens, but those two look like they have X-ray vision!” “She runs, he chases. There is no escape.” “Help, the comment above me is sending me!” Ten minutes later, the director blew the whistle. The pairings were set. Everyone else had tried their hardest to bump into someone else to manufacture some romantic tension. I, however, stuck to my strict “Don’t Touch Me” policy. One kick here, one dodge there, and I successfully avoided every single guy in the room. Which meant I also avoided Silas. However, when the blindfolds came off… Everyone else was paired up, holding hands. Only Silas and I were left, standing on opposite ends of the room, staring at each other. Chloe’s face dropped instantly. She ripped her hand away from the guy next to her. This had… backfired spectacularly. Chloe forced a sugary-sweet smile. “Director, we didn’t really understand the rules just now. Can we do a do-over?” I immediately stepped forward to support her. The chat scrolled furiously. “Ha, Green Tea April is definitely going to argue with Chloe. Let’s watch her terrible acting.” “She got lucky and ended up with Silas. She’s probably dying of happiness inside.” 3 I sprinted right up to the director. “She’s absolutely right! I agree! Do-over! We MUST do it over!” If I had known this would happen, I would have grabbed a random guy earlier! The rapper from this morning wasn’t bad, or the older action star… Literally anyone was better than Silas. Chloe probably hadn’t expected me to back her up so aggressively. She froze in place. Silas spoke, his tone flat. “It’s getting late. A do-over is a waste of time.” The director wasn’t about to argue with an A-lister like Silas, so that was that. Chloe walked slowly over to Silas, her eyes soft and pleading. “Silas, it’s okay. I’ll wait for you to get back.” The camera zoomed in for a tight close-up on the two of them. Chloe walked away, looking back over her shoulder three times, her eyes red as if she were marching off to war. The live chat erupted. “My heart breaks for Chloe. It’s all April’s fault. That bitch ruins everything. She’s doing this on purpose to mess with our girl.” “Speechless. If you don’t use your eyes, donate them. I’m just a casual viewer, and it’s obvious April didn’t do anything.” “Sisters, Green Tea April is definitely faking this ‘I don’t care’ attitude. Don’t be fooled! She’s going to show her true colors soon and throw herself at Silas. Just watch.” The date roster was locked in. I shot Silas a look of extreme reluctance and maintained a strict three-foot distance from him at all times. The live chat stalled for a moment before someone quietly commented: “Am I going crazy, or does April look like she’s genuinely disgusted by Silas?” “She’s not even trying to get close? Is this still Green Tea April? Did she get a personality transplant?” “LMAO, Silas keeps looking back to check if April is still there. What, is he afraid she’s going to run away?” “I mean, it really looks like April wants to run.” The date was set up on the beach. Dim lighting, candles on the table, rose petals scattered everywhere. It gave me a headache. I took the initiative. “What temperature do you keep your AC at?” Silas: “78.” Me: “I like 62. We’re not compatible.” A long silence. Silas spoke softly, “I can do 62.” What… is his deal? I pressed on. “Do you lick the foil lid on your yogurt cups?” Silas: “No.” Me: “I do. We’re not compatible.” Silas: “I…” I waved my hand. “I go to bed at exactly 8 PM every night, and I fall asleep listening to heavy metal. I’m heading back.” The chat was an avalanche of text. “QUICK, EVERYONE WATCH APRIL’S FEED! I’M LAUGHING MY HEAD OFF!” “Look how pitiful our Best Actor looks! He’s so wounded!” “The vibe between these two is so weird, but I’m kind of… shipping it?” “A ship can be rare, but it shouldn’t be cursed! This is a dangerous path. The Vance-Thorne ship is the only true path.” 4 I had just gotten back to the communal living room and was about to fire up a mobile game to cool down when Chloe walked in. Seeing me, she feigned shock. “April! You’re back so soon? What about your date?” I was leaning lazily against the doorframe, chewing on a piece of toast. “It’s dead.” A flash of triumph crossed Chloe’s eyes. It was fleeting, but I caught it. Given my terrible reputation and my history of aggressive showmances, the male cast members were avoiding me like the plague. Silas was A-list, known for being aloof and unapproachable. Chloe had definitely assumed Silas had kicked me out. She covered her mouth, her big eyes widening innocently, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t be mad, April. I apologize on Silas’s behalf.” Tsk. Her acting was so amateur. It was like watching someone try to fake an asthma attack. I suddenly felt a little bad for her fans. The chat: “Does April know how to talk? If you can’t speak nicely, keep your mouth shut. She’s just bullying our kind-hearted Chloe. She stole someone else’s date, and she has the nerve to be mad?” “Who started the drama on purpose? And where exactly did April look mad?” “Our girl was just checking in on her! How is that starting drama?” “Did she mention you? Stop catching strays!” The chat was a warzone. Silas pushed the door open and walked in. The camera immediately framed Chloe and Silas together, effectively pushing me out of the shot. I couldn’t help but give the cameraman a mental thumbs-up. Chloe hurried over, looking at Silas with deep, soulful eyes, taking on the tone of a protective girlfriend. “Silas, you shouldn’t have abandoned April like that. She’s a girl, she’s going to be heartbroken.” Silas’s gaze landed on me. It was dark, unreadable, like he had a million things to say but couldn’t. Right at that moment, a loud, cheerful “Victory!” blared from my phone. I frantically muted it and smiled at the two of them. “Sorry! My bad. Don’t mind me. Please, continue.” The chat lost it. “April is a legend.” “Redefining ‘Heartbroken’.” “April is carrying the comedy for this entire episode.” “What do I do? I suddenly feel like the vibe between Chloe and Silas is super awkward when they’re in the same frame. And they’re in the same frame A LOT! It feels forced.” “Sister above me, they’re in the same frame a lot because they like each other! Look at April and Silas—they’re always a mile apart. Of course they’re never in the same shot.” That night, out of the five male cast members, Chloe received four anonymous “heartbeat letters.” She had pre-applied waterproof makeup and cried uncontrollably in front of the camera. She said she was so grateful for their affection and deeply moved. But, she claimed, her heart already belonged to a bright moon, and there was no room for anyone else. The chat spammed: “Vance-Thorne is so sweet!” “Chloe is so poetic!” “Don’t cry, baby, you deserve the world!” Everyone was guessing which of the four letters was from Silas. The camera cut to me. I shuffled out in my slippers. I had only received one letter, and the producers had hidden it. When I asked why, they explained it was probably sent by mistake and didn’t count. Honestly, I understood. The producers needed drama. They were using me as a contrast to Chloe to manufacture conflict and views. Because I received zero letters, ranking dead last, I had to accept a punishment. Not only did I have to move into the worst room, but I also lost the right to choose a male guest for the next activity. Surprisingly, the hate comments died down a bit. A lot of people were actually leaving positive comments, trying to comfort me. Joke’s on them, I wasn’t sad at all. This wasn’t a punishment; it was a reward. Filming is exhausting. God knows how badly I just wanted to pass out in my room. The next day, everyone else picked their dates. Some were being sickeningly sweet, some were baking, some were having deep life chats, and some were stirring up drama. I slept until 9 AM, then sat in the corner farthest from Silas, playing mobile games. It was pure bliss. A little while later, Silas walked over to get water. His tall frame blocked my light. I silently got up and moved to the other side of the room. Soon after, Silas walked over to where I was sitting now to grab a peach. I thought he’d just grab it and leave. Instead, he stood there staring at the peach like it was a museum artifact, not moving an inch. I couldn’t take it anymore and stood up again. When I looked up, I accidentally locked eyes with him. His raven-black eyelashes fluttered slightly. His dark pupils were like bottomless pits. His thin lips were pressed together. Just looking at him made me feel a little flushed. After all these years, Silas was still ridiculously gorgeous. I turned to leave, but a flash of panic crossed his eyes, and he almost instinctively stepped in front of me to block my path. I stared at him calmly, showing no emotion, while my brain was a chaotic mess of question marks. What… does he want? Silas looked down, his voice cool but tinged with an undeniable sweetness: “Want a peach?” The chat exploded. “What the hell does ‘Want a peach’ mean?!” “Why does the usually aloof and arrogant Silas turn into a literal puppy the second he’s near April! I don’t understand, but I am shook.” “Hahahaha, April’s face: Back! Back! Back away!” “These two have the least amount of screentime together, and they’re avoiding each other the hardest, but they’re the ones making my heart flutter! This is insane.” I flat-out refused. “No.” The moment I said it, I remembered this was a livestream. Silas was an A-lister. Rejecting him like that felt like I wasn’t giving him enough face. So I changed my tune. “Give it to me.” The corners of Silas’s mouth twitched upward. “I’ll go wash it for you.” Me: “…” Bro, do you remember I’m supposed to be the background character? The chat peaked. “Holy shit, is this the first time Silas has smiled on this show?! And it’s directed at April?” “Before April paid attention to him, Silas (Aloof mode): I don’t smile. I was born not to smile. After April acknowledged him, Silas: Hehehehehe.” I furrowed my brows. When I took the washed peach from Silas, my hand accidentally brushed against his. His skin was cool, but the brief contact felt like a spark of fire. We both pulled our hands back almost simultaneously. Silas slowly curled his long fingers inward. The tips of his fingers were flushed pink. I coughed twice, grabbed the peach, and walked away without looking back. In less than two minutes of screen time, the chat was a blur of text. “Ahhhh! The way he looks at her! I’m dead.” “I’ve already mentally outlined a 100,000-word angst-filled romance. The whole world thinks we have nothing to do with each other, that we even hate each other. But only I know how badly I crave you in the dead of night. My desire, my obsession, my… (the rest can’t be broadcast).” “Keep going! Write more for your premium subscribers! Don’t leave out any details, movements, expressions, or sounds!” “Damn, they are intoxicating. Just brushing hands makes me want to scream. Is anyone else shipping this? Because if no one else is, I’m going in.” 6 “Hey, wake up! Chloe is right there! Stop shipping them blindly and ruining the Vance-Thorne romance. You ‘fans’ are making the comment section toxic.” “Oh, look who thinks they have a superiority complex over shipping. Newsflash: Chloe and Silas have the most screen time, but has he ever actually looked at her?” “Anyone with eyes can see the show only pushes Vance-Thorne. Why are you guys forcing it? Does April even deserve him?” “Are we really force-feeding couples now? The show’s manufactured romance is so fake it gives me a stomachache. I refuse to eat it. I’m a contrarian ostrich, and I love the Anti-Showmance duo! Stay mad! Stay mad!” “Anti-Showmance? LMAO. That perfectly fits April’s vibe.” After eating Silas’s peach, I lost three games in a row. It was definitely because my teammates sucked. It had absolutely nothing to do with me being flustered. Yep. Definitely. Over the next few weeks, Chloe suddenly became overly friendly with me. When I woke up in the morning, she’d greet me: “Our little sleepyhead April is finally awake!” It’s fine. Even if you didn’t point it out, the internet already knew I was lazy. While I was gaming, Chloe was doing yoga next door, smiling at the camera: “We girls need to cultivate elegant hobbies. I’ve been reading a lot of classic literature lately. I’ll share some with you guys when I have time.” Yeah, I saw it. The Billionaire’s Runaway Bride. I wonder if she ever managed to run away. One time, everyone was gathered around discussing Silas’s movies. When his film premiered, he sent exclusive merch to a lot of people in the industry. Chloe suddenly asked me, “April, which character’s merch did you receive?” Silas and I were notoriously unconnected in the industry; our teams never interacted. I replied flatly, “I didn’t get any.” Chloe looked pitiful. “I’m so sorry, April. I shouldn’t have asked. I wasn’t trying to open an old wound.” I nodded dismissively. “Okay. I forgive you.” Chloe froze. The chat was a wall of “HAHAHAHAHA.” “Guys, I can’t. I’m going to have a six-pack from laughing so hard.” Silas walked past Chloe and stopped beside me, lowering his voice. “I sent you a ton back then, but you rejected all of them. I thought you didn’t like them. Which one do you want? I’ll have them ship it now.” I looked away. “No thanks. I have no space for it.” In a corner off-camera, Chloe glared daggers at me and stormed off. I don’t know what got into her, but she kept making passive-aggressive remarks and treating me like her imaginary rival, which ended up forcing my screentime way up. I wonder if the producers will give me a bonus for this. Probably feeling that things had been too peaceful, the producers decided to stir the pot again. They announced a “Pajama Beach Party.” Everyone was supposed to gather, prepare their own dinner ingredients, and play games designed by the show. The losers would have to draw random cards provided by the producers and complete the punishments listed on them. The contents of the cards were a mystery. The stakes were a mystery. The teaser for the pajama party trended immediately, drawing in a ton of casual viewers. Netizens grabbed their popcorn and waited for the drama. That night, everyone coincidentally chose outfits that perfectly showed off their figures. Men and women gathered together, the waves crashing in the background, voices buzzing, skin flashing everywhere—it was a testosterone-fueled scene. The producers had set up a temporary outdoor kitchen. I was hiding in it, wearing a standard, shapeless blue cotton pajama set, grilling meat. Chat: “Trying to find April on camera is actually difficult. If anyone ever says she’s an attention hog again, I will fight them.” “I’m slowly getting used to April’s bizarre fashion choices. It’s giving ‘I know I’m pretty, so I do what I want’.” “Well, look who it is! That’s the woman who falls asleep listening to heavy metal.” 7 Just as the meat finished grilling, the rapper kid sidled up to me. “Smells amazing. Can I have some?” I replied politely, “Sure, I can’t finish it all by myself.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of floral swim trunks, with a slightly roguish look in his eyes. In the recent voting rounds for “Heartbeat Guests,” he had received the fewest votes, and his screentime had plummeted. He was probably trying to team up with me, a fellow bottom-tier contestant, to create some buzz. Unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong person. I was praying for less screentime. After eating the meat, he leaned in closer, gave me a wink, and forced out a raspy, “vocal fry” voice: “To repay you, let me peel an apple for you, April.” Me: “…” Kid, you’re trying way too hard. I was just about to decline when Silas navigated through the crowd and walked over. The rapper quickly tried to suck up to him. “Hey, Silas. Looking for Chloe? She’s not over here.” Silas completely ignored him, carefully sat down next to me, and said flatly, “I want an apple. I’ll peel it.” The chat went feral. “The Best Actor is being so pouty! I’m laughing so loud!” “Silas looks like a giant dog competing for affection. What do I do? I think I’m shifting from a fan to a protective mom.” “Things are getting spicy! The pressure is on April.” Why wasn’t Silas performing for the cameras properly? What was he doing causing trouble over here? Could he really have held a grudge from high school all the way until now? No way, right? A revered Best Actor couldn’t be that petty. I frowned at the rapper. “He doesn’t know how. You do it.” Silas didn’t say a word. He just grabbed an apple and started peeling. The knife glinted. Silas’s cold gaze swept over the rapper’s bare torso, his hand peeling the apple with aggressive force. The rapper looked dumbfounded. He swallowed hard, looked at me, looked at Silas, dropped his apple, made an excuse, and bolted. The chat exploded with laughter: “In just a few seconds, Silas completely fried that kid’s brain.” “Silas: It doesn’t matter. I will intervene.” “TBH, when I first started shipping the Anti-Showmance duo, my expression was exactly the same as that half-naked guy with the cowlick.” “Luke: Do I not deserve to have my name mentioned?” Once Luke (the rapper) left, I wanted to leave too. “Hss—” The knife in Silas’s hand dropped to the table with a dull thud. I pulled back the leg I had just extended. Silas opened his hand. A bead of blood was blooming on his pale, long finger, like a red rose blooming in the snow. I hesitated for a second, but couldn’t resist grabbing a Band-Aid. I was just being a good Samaritan. I didn’t feel bad for him at all. Yep, definitely not. Silas obediently held his hand out to me, his brow slightly furrowed, the corners of his eyes tinged red. He looked incredibly pitiful. The chat: “And now, please enjoy the blockbuster film starring Best Actor Silas Thorne: So What If I’m Manipulative? Also known as Look How Desperate I Am.” “Silas’s inner monologue: April, look at me. I’m hurt. Comfort me. If you wait any longer, the wound will heal itself.” “Silas, do you remember that you’re the tough guy who broke two ribs during filming and didn’t even make a sound?” “I’m poisoned! I can actually see a hint of fondness in April’s disgusted actions.” After I applied the Band-Aid, the game over there was about to start. They were reading the rules. I got up and walked over. Silas followed silently behind me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “413017”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The top-tier billionaire heir unprecedentedly posted a sexy abs photo that went viral, captioned: “Waiting for you in bed.” A currently trending pop starlet responded across the internet: “I’ll come home early tonight.” Overnight, the entire internet went crazy shipping them: “So sweet, this must be their official announcement.” But, if she is his official girlfriend, then who am I? 01 I am a notorious, love-to-hate actress in the entertainment industry. Lately, my luck had been pretty terrible. Several hit TV shows I starred in were banned one after another because other actors in them got into legal trouble. I was in a bad mood and had no desire to film anything. My manager took the opportunity to sign me up for a live-streamed variety show. Besides me, the other invited guest star was the currently trending “it girl,” Mia Sterling. She was the new rumored girlfriend of the top-tier billionaire heir, Nathaniel Blackwood, and also my nemesis. After the live stream officially started, the host asked us to greet the audience. Mia spoke first. Wearing a light blue dress, her voice was sickly sweet: “Hi everyone, it’s your girl Mia.” The host smirked and added, “Maybe in a little while, we’ll have to change how we address her and call her Mrs. Blackwood.” Amidst the teasing, Mia lowered her head and smiled shyly. “It’s still too early for that.” I couldn’t help but frown. But out of politeness, I didn’t interrupt her. The live chat boiled over: “Hahaha, so Mia is admitting to her relationship with Nate! I just saw a psychic reading two days ago saying our baby Mia has the face of a billionaire’s wife. Who knew she’d become the crown princess of New York high society so fast.” “Mia is too cute. No wonder the notoriously cold and untouchable billionaire heir fell for her. So sweet!!!” “Did you guys see the Instagram photo? OMG, Nate’s body is insane. Looking at it makes me blush. I can’t even imagine how ‘happy’ Mia’s night life is.” At this moment, someone noticed me in the corner: “Wait, what is with Scarlett’s expression? Is this green tea bitch jealous seeing our baby Mia and Nate together? So scary.” “Our Mia is more popular than her, more well-liked, and her boyfriend is a billionaire heir. She’ll enjoy endless wealth for the rest of her life. Hah, Scarlett must be dying of jealousy inside.” Seeing these malicious comments, I froze for a second. I wasn’t jealous of Mia; I was just a bit confused. Three days ago, because that stubborn, old-fashioned man Nathaniel refused to try a new position, we got into a huge fight and started a cold war. I blocked all his social media and contact info. I didn’t expect that when the dog couldn’t reach me, he would actually, for the first time ever, update his Instagram account that he hadn’t touched in a century. In the photo, the man had just stepped out of the shower, lying on the bed. A few crystal-clear water droplets perfectly highlighted his chiseled abs. His long, slender fingers grasped the dark-colored bedsheets in a mess. It was indescribably sexy and seductive. The caption: “Waiting for you in bed.” It pushed that ambiguous atmosphere to the absolute limit. A few minutes later, Mia reposted this photo, shyly shouting out across the web: “I’ll come home early tonight.” That night, the hype around Mia and Nathaniel’s ship rushed to the number one trending spot. It spread like wildfire, as if it were the absolute truth. The top comment from a shipper: “So sweet, this has to be the official announcement.” I read it with a face full of question marks. If Mia is Nathaniel’s official girlfriend, then who am I? Did this dog really find a new flame just three days into our cold war? Fine. Great. When we were together, he acted like his life depended on being modest. Even holding hands in public made his heart race and face turn red. I exhausted myself finally training him well, and as a result, he runs off to make a high-profile declaration of love to my nemesis??! 02 After the self-introduction segment passed, the host began arranging the first warm-up game. A cliché game of Truth or Dare. In the first round, Mia lost. The host got excited: “Will our Mia choose Truth or Dare?” Mia thought for a moment. “Truth.” Seeing there was gossip to dig up, the host’s pitch went up excitedly, “Oh, can we ask anything?” Hearing this, Mia shyly covered her face, “As long as it’s not too overboard. That person is quite low-profile.” The chat went into another sugar-craze frenzy: “Hahaha, Nate: Stop calling me ‘that person’, just read out my social security number already.” “Who gets it? After officially announcing it, are the lovebirds not even hiding anymore? The sweetness is severely exceeding limits.” “Scarlett’s face is green, she’s even rolling her eyes. She’s been fighting with our Mia for resources for so many years. Now that our Mia has someone backing her, she’s dumbfounded.” No… I was just bored out of my mind and adjusting the position of my color contacts. How did that turn into rolling my eyes? After getting Mia’s permission, the host wore an auntie-like smile: “Okay, our question is, can you describe the process of how you met that person?” Mia pursed her lips into a smile, as if reminiscing: “Last winter, as the spokesperson for the Blackwood Group, after finishing the commercial shoot, Nathaniel specifically bought a cup of hot cocoa and gave it to me. We strolled together in the garden…” The more Mia spoke, the redder her face got, finally lowering her eyes shyly. “Wow~ So romantic.” The host and other guests gave appropriate reactions, seemingly intoxicated by the story too. But as the background extra in the corner, the more I listened, the more I felt something was wrong. I put down the orange I was halfway through eating and couldn’t help but ask: “Are you sure that cup of hot cocoa was bought specifically for you by Nathaniel?” Mia paused for a second, raised her signature smile, and her voice sounded a bit wronged: “Yes, does Scarlett think I’m lying?” I advised her tactfully: “You might want to think back a little more carefully…” I had an impression of the shoot Mia was talking about. But I clearly remembered that day, due to some shameful reasons, Nathaniel didn’t even go to the company at all. Instead, he messed around with me in the bedroom for the entire afternoon. From the bed to the floor-to-ceiling windows to the vanity… When he left that night, his belt was snapped. The hot cocoa was a winter perk sent by the company executives to all employees. Even the cleaning ladies got a cup. As for strolling in the garden, that was even more ridiculous. That day it was hailing ice chunks the size of pigeon eggs… Mia probably didn’t expect to be questioned. Her sweet smile stiffened on her face, and her tone carried a trace of imperceptible anger: “Scarlett, you doubting me like this… are you very close with Nathaniel?” Due to professional reasons, I didn’t want to expose my relationship with Nathaniel, plus we were still in a cold war, so I gave a vague answer: “We’re alright.” Just at the level of having negative-distance interactions four or five times a week. Mia put on an innocent look: “Oh, is that so. But, Scarlett, why have I never heard Nathaniel mention you…” The chat exploded: “Hahaha, the face-slap came as fast as a tornado! Scarlett, this try-hard, is going to kill me with laughter. She actually dared to question the relationship between Mia and Nate. I bet she hasn’t even seen Nate’s face.” “Weakly asking, am I the only one who feels that Scarlett’s dodging eyes make it look like she really has a history with Nate? What if Mia is actually lying…” “Upstairs, where did you get this psychotic delusion? How could Nate have any history with this clout-chasing chick? It’s bad enough she competes with Mia for everything normally, but now she even dares to try to steal Nate. Her thick skin knows no bounds.” 03 After the Truth or Dare game ended. It was nearing noon. The show had an established tradition since it first aired. Every guest star had to randomly draw a friend from their contacts list live on the show and invite them over. This would determine whether the guests would eat a feast or dark cuisine for lunch. This was also the show’s glaringly obvious little scheme: by only paying the fee for two people, they could get the buzz of four celebrities. The assistant returned the phones that were collected at the start of the recording to me and Mia. The host spoke mysteriously: “Today’s invitation segment is a bit different from before. You need to cast your phone screen to the big screen, and the fans will pick who you invite.” Mia obligingly agreed and opened her iMessage. The big screen displayed her contact list. The pinned chat was named “My Nate”. The number of viewers on the live stream practically doubled, everyone spamming “Nathaniel Blackwood”, causing the popularity to skyrocket. The host looked at Mia with a face full of anticipation: “It seems the fans and I are very much looking forward to Mrs. Blackwood and Mr. Blackwood uniting on screen.” Amidst the crowd’s teasing, Mia slowly typed in the chat box: “Nathaniel, do you have time at noon?” The chat was boiling: “Yo yo yo, dating really turns people into kids, and our aloof Nate is no exception. Who is this cute nickname trying to kill with sweetness? Looking forward to the lovebirds in the same frame. Let’s see if Scarlett still dares to be so arrogant.” “I heard the Blackwood family has strict rules and a low-profile nature. They never allow descendants to participate in entertainment activities unrelated to the business. Is Nate going to break the rules for Mia? Wow, what an idol drama plot.” Time ticked by, minute by second, and the chat box for “My Nate” remained completely silent. Mia had to exit the screen casting first. A few seconds later, she suddenly widened her eyes in surprise, her tone acting coquettish: “Nathaniel replied! He said he was just in a meeting. He’s very busy today and can’t make it this afternoon.” “He also said he wants to buy me a few Hermes bags to make up for it. Hmph, how are a few bags enough? I want a hundred from him. I’ll keep one, and give the rest to the host and the fans.” Hearing that Nathaniel couldn’t come, the fans in the chat were visibly disappointed, but the next second they got very excited to eat the sugar: “Wow, Nate spoils Mia so much. A hundred designer bags, just like that. He really is inhumanly rich. Can Mia let me possess her body for two days?” “Really have to thank Mia for bringing us such great perks. Can’t believe how precious the bags bought by the billionaire heir will be.” “Is this the domineering wealth of the richest man in the city? No wonder Scarlett is so jealous of Mia. She must be dying of red-eyed envy right now.” The host’s eyes lit up, her tone very exaggerated: “Then let me thank Mia in advance! I guess I’m bathing in Mrs. Blackwood’s good fortune.” In this atmosphere of peace and harmony, I couldn’t hold it back and let out a laugh. Because Mia had already exited the screen casting, everyone couldn’t see her chat box. But I knew, this was absolutely impossible to be a message Nathaniel sent her. Unsurprisingly, my laughter triggered another climax in the chat, everyone flaming me for “sour grapes.” Only a few rational fans raised doubts: “How is it so coincidental? The moment she exits screen casting, Nate replies? Could Mia have made it up?” But very quickly, they were attacked back by the swarming netizens: “You must be a Scarlett fan. Like idol, like fan. Acting like rats in the gutter, universally hated and can’t stand to see others do well.” “…” After hearing the laugh, the host finally noticed my existence and casually asked without much care: “Scarlett, are you ready to cast your screen?” I was just about to nod when I suddenly remembered something and subconsciously gripped my phone tight: “Can we wait a second?” Mia comforted me gently, but a trace of mockery flashed through her eyes: “Scarlett, don’t feel pressured. Even if you just invite a small actor, we’ll be very happy.” Seeing my delayed movement, the host got a bit annoyed: “Is Scarlett too tired from playing games just now? It’s fine, I’ll help you.” The host snatched the phone from my hand. On the big screen, the first thing that caught everyone’s eye was the sexy, chiseled contours of a man’s silhouette, his pale pink lips slightly pursed. The man was kneeling on the wooden floor, his head tilted up slightly. Muscles were packed under a well-tailored suit, his tie casually being pulled by a woman’s hand painted with red nail polish. Cold and dripping with sexual tension. Even though only the lower half of his face was exposed, someone in the chat recognized him at a glance: “Isn’t this Nate? Why is Scarlett using Nate’s picture as her wallpaper?” “Good lord, so Scarlett, the green tea bitch, is a delusional fan of Nate. No wonder she has so much hostility towards our Mia. Sure enough, solo fans only have mental breakdowns when the real sister-in-law appears.” “But wait, this photo can’t be searched anywhere on the entire internet. Why does Scarlett have it? I’m increasingly feeling like there might actually be something between these two…” “Bullsht, this is obviously photoshopped at first glance. If you ask me, just let Scarlett invite Nate too. Mia is too kind. Let Nate come over in person and extinguish her arrogance.” “Hahaha, the person upstairs is a fcking genius! Why didn’t I think of such a savage move? Yes, let her invite him! The woman who bullied Nate and even dared to photoshop pictures to disgust him—I can’t wait to see this green tea’s reputation ruined.” “Support Scarlett inviting Nate!” Comments flooded the screen. 04 The host and other guests wore expressions waiting to watch a joke. Only Mia proactively leaned in. She had just faced a setback with her invitation and was eager to get her pride back from me: “Scarlett, the audience has made their choice. Why haven’t you messaged Nathaniel yet?” A few seconds later, she suddenly seemed to realize something and whispered an apology: “I’m sorry, Scarlett. You said before that you knew Nathaniel very well, so I assumed you definitely had each other’s contact info. I didn’t expect that you wouldn’t even have his number…” The chat scrolled crazily, maxing out the mockery: “Hahaha, the bluff got too big and now she can’t wrap it up. If I were Scarlett, I’d pack my things and roll out of the show right now to save myself the embarrassment. I feel awkward for her.” “No, but seriously, doesn’t anyone else feel like Mia is acting a bit like a green tea bitch? She clearly knows Nate is busy, yet she still tells Scarlett to invite him. Isn’t she intentionally trying to make her look like a fool?” “How is that green tea? Our Mia is the main chick. Seeing a vixen coveting her own husband and not cussing her out already shows our Mia has high class.” Seeing me remain unmoved, the host voiced the injustice for Mia: “Scarlett, Mia is talking to you. Out of politeness, shouldn’t you at least reply?” I looked at Mia and spoke flatly: “With such good acting skills, it’d be great if you used them when filming.” The host’s lips twitched in anger, but Mia stopped her, looking pitiful and fragile: “Scarlett, I understand you’re in a bad mood right now.” “How about this? I’ll send you Nathaniel’s contact info. But whether he’s willing to add you, I can’t guarantee…” I interrupted Mia carelessly: “No need. I have Nathaniel’s number, I just blocked him.” Mia’s expression looked a bit shocked. She pouted, adopting a tone as if she were thinking of my best interests: “Scarlett, I know you have a strong personality and don’t like being compared to others, but you really shouldn’t make these kinds of jokes. It’s really not funny…” The chat laughed: “People rack their brains trying to add Nate and can’t even get in. She, on the other hand, just blocks him? Who is she kidding, a three-year-old?” “Damn, I hate people who act tough the most. Especially when they pretend so poorly. Our little angel Mia already nicely advised her several times, and even offered to give her Nate’s number. She’s not only ungrateful but also has this arrogant attitude.” “Filming a show with such a toxic person… really feel bad for our Mia.” The host looked like she was gloating over a disaster: “Scarlett, since you said you have Nate’s contact, then invite him now.” The guests all cast their gazes, waiting to see me make a fool of myself. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, I slowly pulled out the contact named “Nate the Puppy” from my block list: “Giving you face. Come over at noon and cook.” The other side replied instantly: “Baby, you finally remembered me.” “Cooking together this afternoon? Let’s use the position you picked last time, okay? I’ve already practiced it many times.” “Baby, don’t ignore me. I promise I absolutely won’t refuse any of your demands in bed from now on…” I was already using my fastest speed to try and end the screen casting, but alas, Nathaniel’s messages came in too fast. A few still got exposed to the public eye. Nathaniel’s rapid-fire message bombing and R-rated texting style hard-cc’d the entire room for over ten seconds. 05 The host was stunned. “Scarlett, who are you messaging?” I secretly cursed this dog of a man for blurting out everything while busy explaining to her that cooking just meant normal cooking, answering without looking up: “Nathaniel Blackwood.” “Nathaniel Blackwood from the Blackwood Group?” I asked coldly: “Could it be Nathaniel Blackwood from the Smith Group?” The host spent the entire show deliberately agreeing with Mia to belittle and smear me. Using me as an antagonist to prop up Mia, and conveniently increasing the show’s ratings. This was probably their true purpose for inviting me. The chat: “HOLY SHT, HOLY SHT, HOLY SH*T! Massive plot twist! Scarlett actually blocked Nate! And the relationship between these two is way too ambiguous! Can I really watch this for free?” “What’s going on, getting pinched by Scarlett’s cuteness. This host is an old slicker. She’s been reported by many artists before for stepping on others to praise someone else. She should have been roasted long ago. Sister Scarlett is so badass.” “I should be under the car, I shouldn’t be in the car.” “…” The host shut her mouth resentfully, her face full of shock and disbelief, and looked at Mia beside her. Mia rushed in front of me, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “Scarlett, I don’t know where I offended you, but you definitely have it out for me today.” I lifted my eyelids, not knowing what kind of crazy fit she was throwing again. “Scarlett, whatever you do to me doesn’t matter. But finding someone to pretend to be Nathaniel to ruin his image is really going too far. No matter what, lying is wrong.” At this moment, the host slowly realized what was going on. “Scarlett, the avatar of the guy who just replied to you is completely different from the pinned contact on Mia’s phone. You actually say he’s Nate? Are you playing us for fools?” The chat flooded the screen: “666, it twisted, it really twisted, a 360-degree twist. That was close, almost got tricked by Scarlett.” “Scarlett is too scheming. If Mia hadn’t pointed it out, I might have really believed that was Nate’s message and even wondered if they were boyfriend and girlfriend.” “I actually very seriously doubted for a second just now if our baby Mia was lying to people. Ah, I really deserve to die.” “Boohoo, Scarlett, that jealous dream girl. Eager to be the other woman. Look at how wronged she made our Mia. When the time comes, Nate will definitely make her kneel and apologize to our Mia.” I knew that once my relationship with Nathaniel was exposed, it would be impossible to hide it anymore. Facing the host’s questioning, I simply explained truthfully: “This is Nathaniel’s private account. Only close people have it.” The host snorted disdainfully. “You mean to say, the account our Mia added is the official one, and the one you added is Nate’s real private account.” I nodded, too lazy to waste my breath: “Pretty much.” In reality, Nathaniel’s dedicated work account was also very hard to add. The people in it were generally executives and board members of major companies. I didn’t know how Mia managed to add it. The chat: “Hiss, don’t you guys think what Scarlett said makes a lot of sense? Big shots usually have one public and one private account. Plus, looking at her expression, so breezy and calm, she really doesn’t look like she’s lying.” “Upstairs, can’t you see all the flaws? Who is Nathaniel? A billionaire heir. How could he reply to messages in such a brothel-like style? And ‘Nate the Puppy’? Does Scarlett really have the guts to call him that?” “Hmph, this might just be a male model Scarlett hired somewhere. Don’t you guys know? Her private life is super messy. Smoking and drinking. How could Nate possibly look at someone like her.” “Ah, poor our Nate, actually having a male model impersonate him one day. Scarlett’s guts are really not ordinarily big. Is she really not afraid of being blacklisted.” 06 On the phone, Nathaniel was still continuously sending messages: “Sorry baby, I was practicing new positions all morning. Didn’t have time to notice you were recording a show, and didn’t pay attention to Twitter. My bad.” “Baby, I didn’t intentionally expose our relationship to the public eye. I promised you, I absolutely won’t interfere with your career, and I absolutely won’t ask for an official title.” “But baby, if I go to the show, you have to give me an identity, right? Boyfriend or Husband?” “If that really doesn’t work… simp is fine too.” I was just about to reply when I heard the host’s voice: “Mia, did Nate tell you what time he’s coming?” Mia shook her head. “Nathaniel is very busy, he probably can’t make it. Scarlett, let’s select someone else to invite together.” I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Mia consoled me: “Scarlett, I know you were just making everyone laugh earlier. However, even though Nathaniel has a good temper, if he’s constantly joked about, he’ll be unhappy too…” “Yeah,” the host chimed in sourly. “Scarlett, we can’t keep waiting with you all the time. Everyone is hungry. Let Liam draw first.” I responded calmly: “Nathaniel will arrive at 12:30.” Seeing my firm attitude, the host could only let it go, cueing the process and asking Mia to reselect. Actually, Mia said one thing wrong just now. Even though Nathaniel was an innocent puppy in front of me, his temper was one of the worst in the business world. His methods were ruthless, and he sought revenge for the smallest grievance. By clout-chasing this time, she really kicked a steel plate…

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My boyfriend called me to break up. I froze for a second, then replied: “Wait, haven’t we always just been friends?” The other end went silent for a heartbeat before exploding: “The Queen is savage!” “Boss, you’ve been simping for her for years and you still haven’t closed the deal?” Leo Blackwood cleared his throat on the line: “Excuse me, everyone. I need to handle a private family matter.” 01 Leo hit the words “private family matter” with heavy emphasis. He was definitely pissed. I hung up before he could say another word and shut off my phone. I spent the rest of the day in class, heart racing. The old professor called on me to answer a question, and for once, I answered with total seriousness. No jokes, no sarcasm. The professor pushed up his reading glasses. “Riley Brooks? Have you been possessed by a studious ghost?” I gave a sheepish grin. “Not at all, Professor. This is my New Year, New Me era. Quiet and studious.” The classroom erupted in laughter, breaking the stuffy atmosphere. The professor nodded. “Okay, there she is. That’s the Riley we know.” After evening classes, I kept my head down and bolted toward the dorms. Suddenly, my roommates caught up to me, nudging me with their shoulders. “Whoa, look at that Porsche Cayenne at the gate. That looks like serious money.” “I don’t know cars, but the guy standing in front of it is a total ten.” I looked up. The silver-haired boy they were gushing about was walking straight toward us. With a sun-drenched smile, he spoke with total confidence: “Hey! Sister-in—I mean, Riley!” My roommates had one talent: they knew when to disappear. They gave me a sharp shove forward and vanished into the crowd. I lost my balance and nearly face-planted into Tyler Hudson’s chest. Tyler looked like he was about to have a panic attack. He closed his eyes and took a frantic half-step back. “You little…” The insult died in the air. Someone had caught me by the waist. When did Leo Blackwood get out of the car? Before I could think, I stood up straight and acted like a perfect angel. Tyler let out a massive breath of relief, patting his chest. “Thank god the Boss’s girl is okay.” I shot him a look. He offered a pleading smile. “Riley, don’t be mad. We were just playing Truth or Dare with the Boss!” I raised an eyebrow. “And?” “The Boss lost. He had to do a dare. The breakup call was my idea. Don’t take it out on him, okay?” Leo’s hand reached out and swatted Tyler’s arm away. “Fine. You can go now.” So, he brought Tyler along just to explain that to me? 02 “Achoo!” The AC in the car was blasting. I sneezed. Leo glanced at me and wordlessly turned the temperature up two degrees. But even with the heat rising, the atmosphere in the car was ice-cold. After a long silence, he finally spoke. His voice was deep and low. “What did you mean by ‘haven’t we always just been friends’?” Ah, that. “No, look, I can explain… or make something up…” “Riley Brooks, don’t forget. We are literally married.” I deflated, adjusted the seat to its most comfortable setting, kicked off my shoes, and curled up. “You were the one who said ‘break up’ first…” I muttered in protest. Leo’s hand on the steering wheel tightened for a split second. He tossed a small blanket onto my lap. “Fine. We aren’t saying that word again.” He paused. “And don’t sit like that in other people’s cars.” Like what? I looked down. Oh, right. I was wearing a short skirt today. I quickly pulled the blanket over me. “Did you see anything?” I hissed. “No.” “What color?” “White…” Hah. I knew it. He saw it and wouldn’t admit it. Blushing, I stole a glance at Leo. He had a high bridge to his nose, a sharp jawline, and a perfectly defined Cupid’s bow. The setting sun hit his face through the window, softening his features. His profile was stunning. I noticed the tips of his ears were turning a faint shade of pink. I whipped out my phone. Snap! Leo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “What are you doing?” “You look good! I’m admiring my composition,” I said. “This photo could sell for a lot. Your fans would go feral for it.” Leo let out a frustrated laugh. “What, the money I give you isn’t enough?” It was enough. More than enough. Being Leo Blackwood’s secret wife in exchange for a $50,000 monthly allowance was the best deal I’d ever made. 03 Leo was the highest-ranked pro gamer in the country. His hands were steady as a rock, especially when he drove. Usually, I fell asleep the second I got into his car. But maybe because I’d been staring at his photo for too long, I fell into a strange dream. In the dream, my fingers were tracing his brow, his nose, his lips… And just as things were getting heated, I leaned in to kiss him. “Mmph!” I snapped my eyes open to see Leo’s face hovering inches from mine, his skin flushed. This was not a dream! “Breathe,” he whispered. I finally found some oxygen. Leo let out a soft chuckle. “Fix yourself up. We’re here.” I looked in the mirror. My eyes were watery, and my lips were swollen and red. I took several deep breaths, cursing him in my head. Leo Blackwood, you predator! I looked out the window. It was the private bistro I’d mentioned I liked. Leo was a regular here. The owner greeted him with a knowing smile. But today, the owner seemed a bit too enthusiastic—until he saw me standing behind Leo. The owner’s expression faltered. He rubbed his hands together awkwardly. Then I saw Sienna Montgomery sitting by the window. I understood the owner’s awkwardness. Sienna Montgomery. The youngest Oscar winner in history. And Leo Blackwood’s “White Moonlight” ex-girlfriend. “What a coincidence,” Sienna said, smiling. She really was a movie star. Even without makeup, she was breathtaking. Leo froze for a few seconds, then gave a curt nod. He reached back and pulled me from behind him to his side. Gee, thanks, Leo! Sienna saw me, and a flicker of genuine surprise crossed her face before she masked it with a smile. “I didn’t know you liked this place too.” Is it too late to say I hate it now? Sienna bit her lip, her eyes shimmering with a faint redness as she gazed longingly at Leo. A classic case of the exes meeting again. Since the place was a private kitchen and everyone was a regular, Sienna suggested we eat together. She sat across from Leo, and the two of them started making small talk about their lives. “Congratulations on the new club. I heard it’s the top in the country.” “Thanks.” “Leo, I’m planning to move back to the States permanently to focus on my career here…” I was losing my appetite being the third wheel. You guys talk; I’ll just eat. I looked out the window, thinking that I probably wouldn’t be able to stay by Leo’s side much longer. The waiter came over. “Ice in your drinks, or room temp?” Leo and Sienna said “Room temp” at the exact same time. I was the lone voice shouting, “Ice!” Sienna gave a coy smile. “I’m surprised you still remember…” Leo wordlessly swapped my iced soda for a warm water. He looked at me intently. “You know you shouldn’t have ice for the next two days.” Faced with his sudden concern, I instinctively glanced at Sienna. Her coy smile hadn’t even faded yet, but her fingers were gripping her glass so hard her knuckles were white. “Hiccup.” The tension was so thick I literally started to hiccup. 04 Love is like a hiccup; you can’t hide it. Apparently, awkwardness works the same way. By my tenth hiccup, Leo finally lost it and laughed out loud. I glared at him, chugging water and stuffing my face with food, but it wouldn’t stop. Help. Why am I hiccupping in front of my romantic rival? Watching Sienna sit there so elegantly across from us, I wanted to cry. Leo gave me a fond look and patted my back. He took the water glass out of my hand. “That won’t work. I have a trick. Want to try it?” I nodded like a bobblehead, still hiccupping. “Look over there!” Huh? I followed his finger. In the next second, his large hand cupped the back of my head, and he pressed his lips hard against mine! “You… you… what are you doing?” My face exploded in heat. I scrambled to push him away. He looked unsatisfied, licking his lower lip. “What? The hiccups are gone, but you’ve developed a stutter?” I stammered for a full minute, unable to form a sentence. Clatter. The glass in Sienna’s hand hit the floor. Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled. “Sorry. It slipped.” She stood up and walked toward the restroom, trying to look strong but failing. I stole a look at Leo. He didn’t even flinch; he just went back to eating. Something was off. Did he just kiss me to spite Sienna? Is this composure all an act? A facade? I didn’t want to eat anymore. Sienna came back, looking like a wilted flower. It was obvious she’d been crying. Truly a sight to behold. I pulled out my phone and opened a ride-share app. “Uh, I’ll just Uber back to campus. Leo, why don’t you drive her home?” Leo snatched the phone out of my hand and threw an arm around my shoulder, leading me out. “Ms. Montgomery doesn’t need my help getting home. I’m driving you.” 05 Back in the car, I started fuming. “Little brother, what is wrong with you? I gave you an opening and you didn’t take it!” Leo glanced at me, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. His voice was lazy. “Whether I take an opening or not… you’ll have to wait and see.” !!! I froze. Since when did the straight-laced Leo Blackwood start talking dirty? I scoffed instinctively. “All talk and no game. Who knows?” Leo heard the sarcasm and laughed. He suddenly pulled a sharp U-turn. The GPS voice rang out: “Recalculating. You have left the planned route.” I watched the red dot on the map get further and further from my school. I whispered, “Where are we going?” “Home.” “Is… isn’t that a bit much?” My big mouth. Why can’t I stop the “all-talk” habit? The night wind was cool. I looked at Leo’s long, elegant fingers on the wheel and remembered how we ended up married. All because of my big mouth. Our families were old friends, but he was six years older than me. Because he was gorgeous, I’d been following him around since I was a toddler. I loved photography, and Leo’s first viral photo was one I took. Back then, Leo was a rising star in the gaming world, and Sienna was just an unknown tournament host. Handsome guy, beautiful girl—it wasn’t a surprise when they got together. Even when I took photos of them together and thought they looked perfect… it still hurt a little. Sienna, being career-driven, refused to go public. After they started dating, Leo’s performance tanked. He choked in several major tournaments. Meanwhile, Sienna’s career skyrocketed after a director saw her hosting. One was falling; the other was climbing. Arguments were inevitable. After Sienna went abroad, Leo was a wreck. I created dozens of burner accounts to leave him supportive comments. I promoted him on every platform I could find. 06 The truth was, I’d chased Leo for years with zero results. But my pride was a monster. I told everyone who would listen that Leo had been “simping” for me for years and I just hadn’t said yes. No one believed me—except my mom and his mom. “You brat! Leo’s been doing so poorly lately, and it was because of you?” Me: … When our parents confronted Leo, his secret relationship with Sienna had just been leaked, and he was drowning in scandal. Leo pulled me into his arms in front of the reporters and said: “I’ve been chasing this girl for years. Today, I finally got my wish.” “Marry me,” I heard him say. Is there any PR move more powerful than getting married to silence a scandal? I couldn’t think of one. Engaged in the morning, married by the afternoon. When I held the marriage certificate, it felt like it was burning my hands. On our wedding night, I peeked at him guiltily. “So… I can explain…” “I’m sorry.” Before I could find the words, Leo apologized first. “I’m sorry for using you.” Looking at his depressed face, my heart felt like it had been stabbed. Years of built-up courage vanished like a popped balloon. I swallowed my confession and slapped him on the shoulder like a “bro.” “No big deal! Just win the championship and pay me a $50k monthly allowance!” Leo actually smiled. “50k? You trying to rob me?” “Hey, I’m giving up my first marriage for this! Don’t be a cheapskate.” “You’re that sure I’ll win the championship?” “Obviously!” Because you’re Leo Blackwood. He ruffled my hair. “Fine. I’ll bring home the trophy for you.” After the wedding, Leo became a different person. He worked like a man possessed. He lived at the club and almost never came home. Late at night, I’d wonder: is he avoiding the house because of me? So, I moved into the dorms with my roommates. 07 The following year, Leo actually won the World Championship. He ran toward me with the trophy, and we both sobbed. I didn’t want to know why he was crying; I was just “crying” because of the $50k that was about to start hitting my bank account. After the tournament, Leo founded his own elite club. I went from being his personal photographer to the team photographer. Through the lens, I could watch him openly. I captured his frustration, his competitive fire, and the empty exhaustion that followed a win. I recorded every major moment of his life. Sadly, I was never in the frame. Aside from that one public proposal, Leo never introduced me to anyone. When people asked, he’d say: “A friend.” “The girl next door.” “Just a kid who likes cameras.” At least he didn’t hide me. Because I took photos of the players, I got along well with the younger guys at the club. Leo hadn’t been seen with another woman for years. On holidays, I’d wait at the club to drive home with him. The players assumed we were dating and started calling me “Sister-in-law.” I secretly loved it. Even better, Leo never corrected them. Driving home for the holidays, I was humming a tune, feeling great. “What are you so happy about?” I reached over to straighten his collar and smiled. “Nothing. Just a tiny, tiny thing not worth mentioning.” My happiness didn’t even last through one red light. Leo’s phone rang. Contact: Sienna Montgomery. Leo saw the name and slammed on the brakes. I never wore my seatbelt, and I smacked my head on the dash. “Does it hurt?” Leo’s eyes were full of guilt. “It doesn’t! Not at all!” Leo laughed. “Then why are you crying?” I realized I was actually sobbing. To prove it didn’t hurt, I started laughing. Crying and laughing at the same time—Leo thought I had a concussion and rushed me to the hospital. But I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t say, Leo, my head is fine. It’s my heart. That would be too embarrassing. I’d rather he think I was an idiot than know I was heartbroken. 08 That was the first New Year we spent at home as a “married couple.” There weren’t enough rooms, so we were forced to share a bed. While Leo was showering, his phone lit up. My heart dropped as I looked at the screen. “Leo, I miss you…” That night, Leo spent a long time on the balcony on the phone. When he came back, he smelled of the cold night air and a faint hint of cigarettes. It wasn’t a bad smell. The bed dipped, and Leo pulled me into his arms. Brrr, so cold. Damn you, Leo. Using me as a human heater. But the warmth grew. There’s nothing better than a bed in winter. I snuggled into his chest, finding a comfortable spot. In a daze, I asked him: “Leo, do you know who I am?” He was stunned by the question. “I know.” “Then who am I?” “Riley Brooks.” Hearing my name, I felt a sense of peace. “Leo?” “Yeah.” “If you ever want a divorce… just tell me. I’ll handle the parents.” A long time passed. I was drifting off when Leo said something. I didn’t hear it. I didn’t want to. A warm touch on my forehead woke me. Leo was looking at me with concern. “Nightmare? Your brow is furrowed.” I didn’t want to answer. I stretched and looked out the window. “Did I fall asleep again?” Leo ruffled my hair. “Yeah. Slept like a little pig.” Our marital home was still “new.” The wedding decorations were still up, but the house felt empty. A maid came to clean regularly, so it wasn’t dirty, but it didn’t feel lived in. There were no traces of me there. When we first got married, I had fantasies about “our home.” I went a bit crazy buying things. Matching toothbrushes, matching mugs, matching slippers… I used to wait for him to come home, full of hope. But he didn’t seem to like it. I remember him holding a cartoon toothbrush cup, smiling awkwardly. “You didn’t have to go this far.” I laughed and said: “It’s just in case the parents do a surprise inspection!” 09 After that, Leo stopped coming home. I felt like I was holding a long, grand funeral for my feelings. Every day he didn’t come home, I threw away one of the “couples” items I’d carefully picked out. The day the last item was gone, I moved back to the dorms. The “More than friends, less than lovers” zone was my uncomfortable comfort zone. Now, the room only held Leo’s things and a few of my clothes. He paced around the room like he was looking for something. “Riley.” “Yeah?” Whenever he used my full name, it was never good news. Sure enough, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What happened here?” “What do you mean?” I played dumb. Leo let out a frustrated laugh and loosened his tie. “Fine, Riley. You’ve grown some teeth.” I pouted. What did he think I was? A bunny that didn’t know how to fight back? Just a girl who blindly loved him? Normally, I wouldn’t dare pull these stunts with him. But today? His “White Moonlight” Sienna was back. The divorce was probably coming anyway. I decided to stop pretending! Leo suddenly pinned me against the wall in the entryway, his eyes darkening. “Wife—” He whispered into my neck: “I just realized… we never actually had our wedding night.” So close! Every hair on my body stood up. I was surrounded by his scent. I felt more lightheaded than if I were drunk. Using my last bit of logic, I pointed out the window. “Look! Oxygen!” While he was distracted, I bolted into the bathroom. Safe. For now. After my shower, I realized I’d celebrated too soon. I hadn’t planned on staying here; I had zero clothes to change into. I knocked on the bathroom door. “Leo?” “Yeah.” “Could you… could you get me one of your long shirts?” “Say ‘please, Big Brother.’” This opportunistic jerk! I clenched and unclenched my fists. But I was at his mercy. “Bi… Big… Big Brother Leo…” God! I hadn’t called him that since I was a kid. I wanted to die of embarrassment. “What? Speak up! Can’t hear you!” “I said, Big Brother Leo~ Riley wants some clothes~” 10 “See? Was that so hard?” Leo handed me a shirt. It was a short one. Even though he was much taller than me, it barely covered my thighs. Since when was Leo Blackwood this inappropriate? Or are all “Jungle” players secretly perverts? Leo was in the living room watching TV. When I walked out, his gaze swept over me. My face went beet red. I ran back to the bedroom, not daring to look at him. I’d been feeling heavy and exhausted lately. When Leo walked into the room, I thought I was dreaming. Wait… that damp touch of hair on my skin… that wasn’t a dream! I sat up, clutching the duvet. “You… why are you in here?” Leo looked at me like I was the crazy one. “This is my house. Why wouldn’t I be in here?” “But you always sleep on the couch, or in the study, or the guest room…” Fine. If you won’t leave, I will. I tried to shuffle toward the door, wrapped in the blanket. Suddenly, Leo scooped me up and tossed me back onto the bed. He pinned me down. Looking at the bridge of his nose, I heard myself say: “Leo, this is going to cost extra.” “Heh. Since when did you become such a gold-digger?” There’s a saying: “I want a lot of love. If I can’t have that, I want a lot of money.” Leo, I really, really love you… I pressed my hand against his lips, looking into his eyes. “Leo, let’s get a divorce.” The smirk on his face faltered. He looked at me suspiciously. “What did you say?” “I said, let’s get a divorce! “Then you can be with Sienna openly. You don’t need to use me to make her jealous. “Don’t be an idiot. Girls need to be winned over. You’re only pushing her away with these games…” 11 Leo brushed the hair back from his forehead, looking agitated. He gave a smile that was actually terrifying. I’d seen that look during his tournaments when his opponents taunted him. I shivered. Anger aside, he reached over and pulled the duvet up higher around me. He asked through gritted teeth: “So you think I’m doing all this just to spite Sienna and get back with her?” I whispered, “Isn’t it obvious? “As soon as she gets back, you take me to that restaurant. “And you’re suddenly… acting like this…” The more I spoke, the more upset I got. Tears started rolling down my face. “Leo, I don’t want to be a pawn in your game with Sienna anymore. Waaaaah!” I don’t know what was wrong with me. I wasn’t usually a crybaby. Leo gritted his teeth. “Riley Brooks, what the hell do you think I am?” Eh? Seeing me sob, he rubbed his temples and let out a long sigh. He handed me a tissue and said gruffly: “Stop crying!” I pouted and nodded, but the tears kept coming. “Don’t pout!” I was gasping for air between sobs. When I opened my mouth to breathe, Leo kissed me. I froze, letting him take whatever he wanted. Suddenly, a sharp cramp hit my stomach. It felt like a drill was going off inside me. I looked down. My period had started. I knew it! No wonder I was exhausted and emotional. It was the period’s fault! I always had terrible cramps. I started sweating and rolling around the bed in pain. Leo forgot his anger. He boiled water, filled a bottle, and wrapped it in a towel to act as a heating pad. After settling me, he threw on his jacket and went out to buy supplies. I was in too much pain to move. Sleep was the only escape. In my sleep, I felt a larger, warmer “heating pad.” I hugged it and fell into a deep slumber. When I woke up, I saw Leo’s beautiful eyes staring straight at me. “Finally awake, little pig?” 12 Crap! I was in too much pain yesterday and didn’t clean up before falling asleep. I threw back the duvet. Thank god. The duvet was fine. There was only a tiny spot on the sheet. But Leo’s shirt was a disaster… Wait! When did I change into these period panties? I hid under the covers in total shame. The more I hid, the more Leo teased me. “Oh, now you’re shy? I used to help you go to the bathroom when you were a toddler!” I threw a pillow at him. “Shut up!” Leo brought over a cup of warm brown sugar water. “Stop being shy. Drink this.” It was sweet and hot. My heart felt warm. “Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?” Leo paused. “Didn’t you say it? Girls need to be winned over.” Then he remembered something and gave me an order. “Don’t ever mention divorce again. You hear me?” What… what did that mean? Terrified of overthinking it, I didn’t ask. Sometimes, not knowing the answer is better than the truth. As a junior in college, I didn’t have many classes left—mostly just internships. My professor had a star student who worked in the entertainment industry. They were starting a celebrity interview show. The professor recommended me to do the photography and filming. Before I left, the professor warned me: “Riley, I’m only giving this chance to you. Don’t embarrass me!” I gave him a deep bow. “Salute!” The professor rolled his eyes. “Respect!” I stared at him. “Professor, you’re so trendy?” “Enough talk! Get going!” 13 The original interviewee was supposed to be a rising young actor. My roommates even asked for his autograph. But in the middle of the night, he was caught in a massive scandal, and his career imploded. The show had to find a last-minute replacement. When Sienna Montgomery walked in with a smile, the whole crew gasped. “My god! She’s even more beautiful in person!” “And so kind! She agreed to do this on such short notice… what an angel!” the director nudged me. “What are you staring at? Hurry up, we’re starting!” “Oh! Right!” I found my focus. I set up the cameras and gear. The interview began. Since it was last-minute, the questions were standard. When asked why she moved back to the States, Sienna paused. She looked out the window and gave a bittersweet smile. That tiny movement made everyone feel for her. She looked at the camera with eyes full of regret and hope. “For someone.” For a moment, I couldn’t tell if she was talking to Leo through the lens… or to me. During the break, my senior came over to check the footage. He patted my shoulder, impressed. “Good job, Riley! You captured her expressions perfectly!” “Obviously! Look who my teacher was!” That shut him up. Sienna walked over to look at the material. “These are beautiful!” She spoke with such sincerity I felt awkward. “You’re beautiful, Ms. Montgomery. It’s hard to take a bad photo of you.” The awkwardness was broken by an assistant yelling that boba had arrived. “Someone sent treats for everyone!” Everyone teased Sienna, who just stood there smiling silently. As they say, only an idiot passes up free food! I grabbed a cup and heard some people gossiping. “Hey, do you know who sent this?” “Leo Blackwood, the gaming god!” “The guy she was rumored to be with?” “Yep! He’s chasing her already. I smell a reunion!” The boba suddenly tasted like ash. 14 I ran into Sienna in the restroom. She smiled at my reflection in the mirror. “Is the boba good?” Maybe it’s female intuition. Sienna was someone I disliked the moment I saw her. After she moved back, that feeling only intensified. Despite her being perfect in every way, everything she did felt calculated and fake. “It’s okay.” Sienna raised an eyebrow, drying her hands as she looked me over. “You’ve changed a lot, Riley. But—I still prefer the way we were in the past. Leo does too.” “Oh. Well, enjoy your memories. Excuse me.” The interview continued. I cleared my head. After the wrap, my senior invited everyone to dinner. “Ms. Montgomery, would you like to join us?” he asked politely. “Don’t be silly, she’s way too busy for us,” someone joked. “I’d love to,” Sienna replied with a smile. The crew was stunned. Someone patted the senior on the shoulder. “We’re taking an Oscar winner to dinner! You better pick a good spot!” I started packing my gear. “Uh, I have a project due. I’ll head back to the dorms!” Before I could reach the door, my senior grabbed me by the collar. “What project? I’ll call the professor myself. You’re coming!” Thanks a lot, man. The bar was dark and loud. At first, everyone was a bit stiff. Sienna stood up with a glass. “A toast to all of you. Thank you for the hard work today!” She was always so poised. After a few drinks, the staff realized she wasn’t stuck-up and started relaxing. Halfway through, Sienna checked her phone and asked shyly: “Can I bring a friend?” The “friend” who walked in was Leo Blackwood.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “413015”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After transferring from a small-town public school in Montana to an elite private academy on the East Coast, I accidentally took the number one spot in the senior rankings. The principal’s daughter accused me of cheating. She said a “flyover state nobody” like me didn’t belong in the same zip code as her, let alone breath the same air as the school’s star athlete. “Let me tell you something, Ava Sterling,” she hissed. “Ryder Black and I are endgame. A country bumpkin like you shouldn’t even dream about him.” I just blinked. I’d spent years living in a multi-million dollar ranch my dad built just for my recovery, inherited my mother’s genius-level IQ, and as it turns out, the “school star” is the boy I’ve been practically engaged to since we were in diapers. None of this is exactly my fault, is it? If she hates going to school with me that much, maybe I should just give her what she wants. 1 When the results of the first senior midterms were posted, the hallway at Saint Jude’s Prep exploded. “The top spot went to the transfer student? I thought for sure it would be Britney Crawford.” “Unbelievable. Isn’t Ava Sterling from some tiny town in the middle of nowhere? How is she this smart?” I kept my head down, focusing on my practice problems, acting like I couldn’t hear the whispers. Spending my life in rural Montana hadn’t made me a “hardworking farm girl,” but it had given me a very chill, zen-like personality. I’d been sickly since birth. My parents had flown in every specialist in the country, but nothing worked. Finally, a spiritual advisor told them I was “carrying a storm.” If I wanted to survive, I had to live away from the city’s chaos, in a place with clean air and open water, to let my body heal. He gave me a silver heirloom bracelet and said, “When this silver snaps on its own without force, the storm has passed. She can return to her true life.” My parents, desperate, bought a massive ranch in a quiet Montana valley and built a sanctuary for me to live in peace. Amazingly, away from the smog and stress, I got better. And recently, the silver bracelet just… snapped. The moment they heard, my parents couldn’t wait to bring me home. That’s how I ended up at this elite prep school. My mom wanted me here because my uncle is on the Board of Trustees. She figured he could look after me while she worked. My mom is a force of nature. A child prodigy who skipped four grades, the youngest postdoc in the country’s history, and currently a senior fellow at an Ivy League institution. She’s basically an academic deity. Fortunately, I got her brain. I’m not as legendary as she is, but I’m no slouch. I pick up everything instantly. So, even though my old public school didn’t have much funding, I was always at the top of the charts. Even here, at a school for the one percent, these “Ivy-track” midterm questions were a walk in the park for me. But Britney Crawford wasn’t buying it. She marched up to my desk, slamming her manicured hand down. “Ava Sterling, you really think you can cheat your way to the top and not get caught? It’s pathetic.” I looked up, raising an eyebrow at her confidence. On my first day, my desk mate had warned me about her. Britney was the Principal’s daughter. Wealthy, “brilliant,” and the undisputed queen of the grade. She was arrogant and treated everyone like they were beneath her. My desk mate told me to stay out of her way. I’m a zen person. I don’t like drama. But zen doesn’t mean I’m a doormat. If Britney is going to get in my face, it would be rude not to respond. I let out a soft laugh. “You saw the curve, Britney. Only one person in the entire grade broke a 1580 on the practice SATs, and I beat your score by nearly a hundred points. If I cheated, tell me—who did I copy from?” Britney stammered for a second, then hissed, “Everyone knows the proctors in the back overflow room are lazy. You obviously had your phone out!” Because I was a transfer, I didn’t have a previous rank, so they sat me in the last room with the strugglers. I crossed my arms. “You sound so sure. What, were you sitting next to me watching?” “I don’t need to see it!” Britney snapped. “There is no way a flyover state nobody like you could outscore me.” Ah, I got it. The “perpetual number one” lost her crown and was throwing a tantrum. I leaned back in my chair. “A lot of words, Britney. Zero evidence.” Even in the overflow room, there are cameras and teachers. You can’t just Google the answers to a specialized physics exam. I had thirty witnesses. What did she have? 2 Britney had nothing. But she’d made a scene, and the whole class was watching. If she backed down now, she’d lose her “Queen Bee” status. She gritted her teeth. “Fine. If you’re so ‘innocent,’ prove it. Come to the faculty lounge. We’ll get a teacher to print a fresh set of Advanced Olympiad problems. You do them right in front of us.” “Deal,” I said, nodding instantly. “But on one condition. When I finish, you apologize to me in front of the entire senior class.” Seeing how fast I agreed, Britney’s face paled slightly. I glanced at her. “What’s the matter? Scared?” “In your dreams!” she barked, her face turning red. “Fine. Let’s go.” As the principal’s daughter, the teachers did whatever she asked. Within ten minutes, they had a packet of Ivy-level competitive math and logic problems ready. During the long break, Britney brought the papers to the common area. She moved the tables, surrounding me with eight of her “guards” to watch my every move. No phones, no notes, just me and the pen. She slapped the paper in front of me. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Montana.” I yawned, bored of the chatter, and started writing. By the time I finished the first page, Britney’s smug expression began to crumble. By the second page, she was biting her lip so hard it almost bled. By the third, a cold sweat had broken out on her forehead. When I set the pen down after the final question, Britney actually stumbled back. She stared at me like I was a monster. The students surrounding us started cheering. “Holy crap, Ava! You nailed those! Those are Putnam-level problems!” “Is she a human calculator?” “Britney, just admit it. Ava is the real deal.” The doubts Britney had planted were gone, replaced by pure awe. I looked at her. “I finished. Your turn to keep your end of the deal.” Britney stared at me, silent. The whispers started. “Why isn’t she saying anything? She lost the bet.” “Typical. The principal’s daughter thinks she’s above the rules.” Britney’s face turned a deep, bruised purple. Finally, she choked out, “Fine! I lost. I’m sorry!” I gave a casual “Cool” and went back to my book. Britney lost it. “Don’t get cocky, Ava! So you can solve some math problems. You’re still just a flyover state nerd. You’ll never have the status or the life we have here.” “Right. I’m a nerd,” I replied calmly. “But you live in the heart of the world’s best education system and you still got smoked by a ‘flyover state nerd.’ Doesn’t that make you the embarrassing one?” “You—!” Britney turned a shade of green I’d never seen on a human before. She stomped her foot, turned around, and ran out of the room. I didn’t care. I had more practice problems to solve. 3 After the “cheating” scandal, Britney and I were officially at war. Somehow, my reputation as a “Genius Transfer” spread. Even the freshmen and sophomores knew my name. People started coming to my desk during lunch just to “pay their respects.” The teachers loved me, too. “Ava got a perfect score on the mock AP Bio.” “Ava found a shortcut to the calculus proof.” “Everyone should look at Ava’s essay for inspiration.” They were even saying I could get into any Ivy I wanted with my eyes closed. Honestly, it was a bit much. But it was driving Britney insane, which made me feel great. Whenever she got the chance, she’d throw shade. She called me “basic,” “uncultured,” and “poor.” I ignored her. Arguing with a narcissist is a waste of my study time. I also didn’t feel like telling her that my last name is Sterling—as in William Sterling, the guy who owns half the tech infrastructure in this country. Two weeks passed. I was coming back from lunch when I heard a group of girls gossiping in the lounge. “Did you hear? Ryder Black is coming back today.” “Oh god, finally. The school has been so boring without him.” I perked up. Ryder Black. My age. My “childhood friend,” if you want to be technical. Our moms were best friends. When they were both pregnant, they made a joke about us getting married one day. Every summer, he’d fly out to my ranch in Montana. Ryder was a spoiled brat growing up—a total terror to everyone else, but he always behaved for me. He’d gone behind his parents’ back to join a pro-esports team, and he actually became a legend. Last year, his team won the World Championship. He was the MVP, the “golden boy” of the gaming world. He’d been missing school to compete in Europe. Last time we talked, he said he wouldn’t be back until after finals. I guess he finished early. “Look at Britney,” one girl whispered. “She’s glowing.” “Well, her ‘God’ is coming back. Of course she’s happy.” I looked over. Britney was holding a compact mirror, fixing her hair, looking like a shy, blooming flower. It was the polar opposite of the mean girl she usually was. I felt a shiver of pure cringe. No way. Ryder is Britney’s “God”? This is going to be hilarious. Britney already hates me. If she finds out Ryder is my “family-arranged” fiancé, she might actually explode. I almost felt bad for her. Almost. 4 The day Ryder returned, he was trending on Twitter for his championship win. The whole school went into a frenzy. A crowd gathered at the front gates. People from the upper floors were hanging out the windows, trying to get a glimpse of him. The teachers tried to stop them, but eventually, they just gave up. Girls were screaming, “Ryder, I love you!” I walked past on my way to the library, looking completely bored. A guy standing next to me suddenly yelled, “Ryder, marry me!” I stopped. Okay, I was impressed. The esports fandom is truly built different. My desk mate saw me and pulled me over. “Ava, come here! I saved you a spot at the front!” Britney was nearby, sneering at me. “I thought you were too ‘zen’ for this, Ava. Yet here you are, thirsty for Ryder like everyone else.” I glanced at her. “Your Ryder?” Britney lifted her chin. “Damn right. Ryder and I are meant to be. Don’t even think about trying your ‘smart girl’ act on him. He likes girls with class.” She laughed dismissively. “Not that he’d ever notice a country bumpkin like you anyway.” I shrugged. “Whatever you say, Britney.” I was curious to see who he’d notice. Arguing with her was like trying to teach a brick wall to read. “He’s here!” someone yelled. A black SUV pulled up to the curb. Ryder stepped out, still wearing his blue and white team jersey. He moved with that effortless, wealthy confidence. Messy black hair, clear eyes, and that “golden boy” energy. My verdict: He’d definitely gotten hotter since the summer. Ryder stood by the car, scanning the crowd. The moment his eyes landed on me, he broke into a massive, toothy grin and waved. I gave him a small, polite smile back. The girls around me started losing it. “Did Ryder just wave at Britney? He smiled at her!” “Wait, are they official now?” “Britney’s been chasing him since freshman year. He finally gave in?” I looked at Britney. She was blushing, covering her face with her hands, making a big show of being “modest.” “Oh, Ryder,” she giggled in a high-pitched voice. “I told him not to be so public about it!” I had so many questions. This girl was a professional at self-delusion. The bell rang, and the crowd dispersed. Ryder was in the class next to mine. To get to his room, he had to walk past my window. Half my class was leaning toward the glass, hearts practically fluttering as they waited for him to pass. I stayed in my seat, taking notes. Go ahead, I thought. Stare all you want. I’m going to out-study all of you. A whistle sounded from the window. I looked up. Ryder was standing there, flashing his white teeth at me. Then he saw the teacher’s glare, shrugged, and jogged away. “Ooooh!” the class started murmuring. Everyone was looking at… Britney, who sat behind me. Britney was bright red, hiding her face on her desk, grinning like an idiot. They really thought he was flirting with her. And Britney was 100% convinced of it. God, this was a mess. The next period was with the Dean of Students. She adjusted her glasses and looked at us sternly. “You are here to study. If I catch any of you in a ‘distraction,’ I don’t care who your parents are. There will be consequences.” I nodded in agreement. My thing with Ryder wasn’t a “distraction.” Even though we were “engaged” by family tradition, our parents had an agreement: No dating until we were out of school. Focus on the future first. So, the only person about to get hurt here was Britney. She looked like she was on the verge of happy tears. After class, the teacher kept us for five extra minutes. The second she left, Ryder was at our door. Before I could move, Britney shot out of her seat like a coiled spring and ran to him. Even Ryder looked startled. Britney tried to grab his arm, but he flinched back, looking genuinely confused. “Uh, do I know you?” 5 Ryder’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for the front half of the class to hear. The silence was deafening. “Wait, what? He’s not here for Britney?” “I thought they were a thing!” “Then what was she doing just now?” “Yikes. That’s embarrassing.” Britney looked like she’d just swallowed a fly. She grit her teeth, her voice trembling. “Didn’t you just wave at me? You were smiling at me at the gate!” Ryder frowned. “I was waving at Ava Sterling. When was I smiling at you?” The gossip mill shifted into high gear. “Did I miss a chapter? When did Ryder and Ava meet?” “He just got back, she just moved here… wait, did they know each other before?” “But Ava’s from a ranch in Montana, right?” Britney turned around and glared at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. I kept my face neutral. Totally innocent. Ryder, still oblivious to the social hierarchy he’d just nuked, waved me over. I sighed. Under Britney’s death-stare, I walked out of the classroom. If looks could kill, I’d be on my 99th reincarnation by now. Ryder pulled me aside. “Is that girl okay? Does she have some kind of… condition?” I looked at him, half-smirking. “I heard she’s been ‘in love’ with you for years. You really didn’t notice?” Ryder looked genuinely baffled. “Ava, girls are always ‘in love’ with me. If I cared about every single one, I’d be exhausted.” I laughed. “Fair point.” Suddenly, Ryder reached behind his back like a magician and pulled out a small, elegant box. He held it out to me with both hands. “Here. For you.” “What is it?” I opened it. Inside was his gold MVP medal from the world championship. I looked up in shock. Ryder grinned. “Success is only fun if you share it with the person who matters.” I was stunned. “But… I didn’t get you a ‘welcome back’ gift.” He patted my head. “Seeing you the second I got back is the only gift I wanted.” I finally understood. That’s why he flew back from Europe so fast. He came back for me. The bell rang. Ryder walked me back to my door. As I walked in, I heard him laugh behind me. “You grew, Ava.” I turned back. Ryder was leaning against the wall, winking at me in the sunlight. He looked soft. Gentle. The second class ended, a mob surrounded my desk. Everyone wanted to know the deal between me and Ryder. Even my desk mate asked, “Ava, seriously, are you guys dating?” I looked her in the eye and said, “I promise you, we are not ‘dating’ in high school.” Whether she believed me or not was her problem. When the rumors were about Britney and Ryder, the other girls stayed quiet. But now that it was the “Montana nobody,” the jealousy was coming out in full force. “Why even ask? She’s obviously not his type. She’s not in his league.” “Exactly. So she’s smart. She’s still just a bookworm. A girl like that will never have the family background to match a guy like Ryder.” “And honestly, she’s not even that pretty. Just average.” Salty. So salty. Most of the class had been neutral during my first spat with Britney. But seeing me “close” to Ryder pushed them into Britney’s camp. Britney made sure to announce to the room: “Don’t think catching Ryder’s attention for five minutes makes you special, Ava. You’re still a flyover state loser. I’m going to make sure everyone knows you don’t belong at Saint Jude’s.” 6 I didn’t care. I focused on my SAT prep. But some people don’t let you stay zen. With the School Anniversary coming up, everyone was talking about the gala. Seniors aren’t usually supposed to participate in the performances, but because our grade had record-breaking test scores, the Dean gave us a “night off” to celebrate. They even set aside slots for senior speeches and performances. And that’s how I found out—without my knowledge—that I had been signed up for a solo vocal performance. The song: Starlight. If the homeroom teacher hadn’t mentioned it during announcements, I never would have known. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Britney was behind it. Her best friend is the Class President, who was in charge of the sign-up sheet. I’d been set up. The whole class was looking at me with weird expressions. “Isn’t Starlight the lead single from Logan Sterling’s new album?” “Yeah. It’s got those insane high notes and runs. Nobody dares to cover it.” “Covering that song is a death sentence. Even pros struggle with it. Why is Ava trying to sing it? Is she crazy?” “Wait, I heard rumors that Saint Jude’s invited Logan Sterling himself to headline the gala. If he sings Starlight and then Ava sings it… isn’t that just a public execution?” “Is he really coming? I didn’t see it on his official tour dates.” “My dad is on the board. It’s a private ‘alumni’ visit. It’s 100% happening.” The conversation shifted from me to the mega-star Logan Sterling. I sat there, listening to the gossip, and blinked. Wait. My brother is coming to my school? Why didn’t he tell me? Yes, the superstar Logan Sterling is my big brother. He debuted at twenty on a reality show and became an overnight sensation because of his looks, his voice, and his songwriting. Within six months, he was a global icon. But he’s private. He doesn’t do many interviews. He only shows up for major awards or charity. The fact that he’d come back to his old prep school for a small gig was a huge deal. While the girls were screaming about Logan, I stood up and walked over to the Class President and Britney. “Take my name off the list.” I was brief. I didn’t have time for their games. The Class President looked away guiltily. “The list is already submitted to the Dean. If you want to cancel, tell her yourself.” I expected this, but I still frowned. “You signed me up without asking. Why is it my job to fix your ‘mistake’?” Britney didn’t look guilty at all. She looked triumphant. “What? I thought you liked the spotlight. This is your chance to shine. You should be thanking us.” With Britney backing her, the President got bold. “Exactly. You’re basically performing on the same stage as Logan Sterling. People would kill for that. Stop acting like a victim and enjoy the opportunity.” I almost laughed. Performing with Logan Sterling? I’ve heard that guy sing in the shower. I’ve heard every draft of every song he’s ever written. I am his first audience for everything. I really didn’t need the “opportunity.”

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My brother came to my apartment to force me to donate bone marrow to our mother. My landlord told him, “Chloe is already dead.” My brother sneered. “Chloe really never changes! To get attention, she’ll make up any excuse. She’s just rotten to the core, not even a fraction as good as Harper. You tell her to stop playing games and be a good girl and donate that bone marrow. Otherwise, I’ll make her regret it!” The white-haired landlady was furious. She grabbed a broom and chased my brother out. “I said, Chloe is dead! You and your toxic family killed her! “Chloe has been dead for six months! How exactly are you going to make her regret it? “Chloe had the worst luck in the world to be born into a family like yours!” Realizing I was truly dead, my brother’s face turned ash-white, and he fled in a panic. 1 I have been dead for six months, but I haven’t moved on to the afterlife. My soul uncontrollably followed the Sterling family. Day after day, I watched the four members of the Sterling family live in perfect, happy harmony. Harper and Liam were getting married. The wedding date and venue were all booked. It was only then that the family finally remembered me. “Is my sister still mad? Will she come when Liam and I get married?” “If she doesn’t come, I won’t acknowledge her as my daughter anymore.” “Just goes to show, if you didn’t raise them from birth, you can’t trust them.” “I said from the beginning we shouldn’t have brought her back. We should have just let the mistake be.” My father, my mother, and my brother sat there, listing all my faults. I watched Harper, tears in her eyes, secretly curl the corner of her lips into a smile. She won. I, the true biological daughter, had nothing. I didn’t even have my life anymore. The family took turns calling me, but it wouldn’t connect. It had been six months; my phone battery had died and shut off ages ago. After failing to reach me, they cursed me out together, then tossed me aside and forgot about me again. Even when I occasionally crossed their minds, it was quickly paved over with an insult. My mother went with Harper to try on wedding dresses. Harper spotted a gown displayed in a glass case. “Mom, look! That dress is so beautiful.” I looked at the dress too, and for a moment, I was dazed. Meanwhile, my mother had already called an employee over to bring the dress out. “I’m very sorry, but that dress is custom-made for a private client.” Harper really loved the dress and kept asking for information about the client who ordered it. Finally, the employee checked their records. “The design sketches were provided by Ms. Chloe Sterling herself. Our company just handled the tailoring.” Harper immediately covered her mouth, her voice choking with sobs. “My sister must still not be over Liam. I should just give him back to her.” Give him back to me? I smiled bitterly. Liam and I were childhood sweethearts. We used to be the couple everyone envied. But then I was found by the Sterling family and met Harper. Everyone loved Harper. My childhood sweetheart loved her too. That wedding dress was indeed designed by me, for me. Once, filled with overflowing love, I designed that dress. I thought I would wear it to marry Liam. But now, that dress was something I could never touch. 2 There was never anything Harper wanted that she didn’t get. “I’m making the decision. This dress is yours now. We’ll consider it her wedding gift to you.” Harper hypocritically declined. “Will my sister be upset?” “Why should she be upset? Matters of the heart can’t be forced. It’s her own fault for having such a terrible, vicious personality. Liam not liking her is her own doing; what does that have to do with you? She always bullied you before; compensating you with a dress is the least she can do.” Harper happily put on the dress, spinning blissfully in front of the mirror. My mother watched her with a face full of pride and comfort. That was a look I could only ever dream of. When it came to Harper, my mother always handled everything personally. She said she wanted her precious daughter’s big day to be absolutely perfect, without a single regret. But me? After being stolen away as a baby, I was just an unnecessary extra. I watched my mother work day and night to alter the dress for Harper. Harper was slightly curvier than me, but she refused to pick a different dress. My mother, who loved her daughter more than her own life, ignored her health and insisted on altering it herself. My mother was a highly sought-after fashion designer. All year round, Harper practically only wore clothes designed by our mother. I never had that honor. Later, I became a designer myself. I designed my own clothes. Since no one loved me, I had to love myself. The night my mother finished altering the dress, she collapsed. After being rushed to the hospital, the situation was severe. “The patient’s leukemia has relapsed.” 3 My father swayed, almost losing his footing. “How is that possible? Didn’t you say her recovery was going well?” “Has the patient experienced any unusual physical strain lately?” “Well, our daughter is getting married, so my wife has been running around non-stop. She might be a bit exhausted. And lately, to alter our daughter’s wedding dress, she pulled two all-nighters.” “Foolish! Does she have a death wish? Her body just recovered; how could it handle that kind of exhaustion?” “Doctor, what do we do now? Please, you have to save my wife.” Harper looked at the doctor with tear-filled eyes. The doctor’s expression turned grave. “Prepare for a second bone marrow transplant.” “Quick, call Chloe and tell her to get here.” Instantly, the family remembered me again. They called me non-stop. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached cannot be completed as dialed…” Hearing the automated message, everyone’s faces turned ugly. Harper cried and said, “My sister must still be mad at me. I’ll go beg her. As long as she’s willing to save Mom, I’ll leave Liam. I’ll leave the Sterling family.” “Chloe is such a bitch! Mom is in critical condition, and she’s actually ignoring our calls. She really is a malicious, toxic bitch!” I looked at my brother. The brother who shared my blood. So, in your eyes, I was just a bitch. My father sneered coldly. “She thinks she has leverage over us now. She’s waiting for us to go beg her.” “I don’t need her bone marrow, that unfilial brat. Since she doesn’t care if I live or die, from now on, I’ll pretend I never had this daughter.” My mother woke from her coma, joining in the disgusted condemnation of me. My brother slammed his fist angrily against the wall. “I’m going to find her.” 4 I followed my brother to the apartment I used to rent. Bang! Bang! Bang! My brother pounded violently on the door, his face full of disgust and impatience. He banged for a long time, but no one answered. Just as he was about to leave, the elderly landlady came over. She lived right across the hall. She must have heard the noise and come out to check. “Where did Chloe go?” The old lady paused. “Chloe? Such a sweet, good girl. But she had a tragic fate. Died so young.” “Dead? How is that possible! “You’re making a sick joke, old lady.” My brother laughed outright, completely refusing to believe it. Right. In his eyes, I was a menace. They say the bad ones live a thousand years. How could I die so easily? But this time, I really was dead. “Who makes jokes like that! Chloe really passed away.” My brother continued to sneer. “Chloe really never changes! To get attention, she’ll make up any excuse. I’m her brother, I know exactly what kind of person she is. “She’s just rotten to the core, not even a fraction as good as Harper. You tell her to stop playing games and be a good girl and donate that bone marrow. Otherwise, I’ll make her regret it!” The white-haired landlady was furious. She grabbed a broom and chased my brother out. “I said, Chloe is dead! You and your toxic family killed her! “Chloe has been dead for six months! How exactly are you going to make her regret it? “Chloe had the worst luck in the world to be born into a family like yours!” My brother’s body stiffened as he dodged the broom. “You’re not joking? Chloe is really dead? How is that possible?” “Get out! Get out! You heartless animal!” My brother fled in a panic. 5 I followed my brother into his car. He lit a cigarette. Through the swirling smoke, I saw his face was dark and unreadable. Knowing I was dead, did my brother feel even a tiny bit sad? In the glow of the cigarette ember, my brother’s phone rang. He looked down at it. The contact name read: My Sweet Harper. Heh. Harper was My Sweet Harper. And me? Oh, I was The Debt Collector. That was how the whole family saved my contact. Surprisingly unanimous. My brother answered the phone. Harper’s slightly choked, raspy voice came through. “Brother, what did my sister say? Is she still mad? Don’t argue with her. I’ll go over and apologize. She’s stubborn. After she donated marrow the first time, she said she’d never acknowledge us again, that even if she died on the streets, it had nothing to do with us. I’m so scared she might do something foolish.” Hearing this, my brother’s originally heavy expression instantly cleared up. “Hah! Chloe is really pulling out all the stops now. She’s actually faking her own death!” I froze. My brother thought I was faking my death. No investigation. No asking for proof. Right. Because they fundamentally didn’t care about me. They always relied on their own subjective assumptions. “Then what do we do? Mom’s body can’t wait.” “I don’t believe it. Without Chloe, you’re telling me we can’t find another suitable marrow donor?” Right. I was always the one who shouldn’t exist. 6 When my brother got back, he embellished the story of me “faking my death.” The whole family instantly launched a crusade against me. “Just as I thought. A selfish, ungrateful wolf who only cares about herself.” “How did I give birth to something with no heart?” “My sister must still be mad at me. I’ll go apologize. I’ll beg for forgiveness.” The condemnation reached its peak amidst Harper’s crying. While comforting Harper, they used even more vicious words to curse me. Liam half-embraced Harper, gently patting her back to soothe her. “Harper, it’s not your fault. Kindness isn’t an excuse for Chloe to bully you. Someone as malicious as her is destined to be unloved.” Harper sobbed softly against Liam’s chest. But I remembered things from the past. Back then, Harper’s biological mother stole me and threw me into a dumpster. I was picked up by human traffickers, who sold me to a couple that hadn’t been able to have a child for years. Less than a year after adopting me, the couple had twins—a boy and a girl. After that, my originally ordinary life turned into a living hell. At only three years old, I had to start doing chores. I had to take care of my younger brother and sister. The slightest mistake earned me a heavy slap from my adoptive father. Simply having enough to eat and staying warm was a luxury for me. In those bitter days, Liam was one of the very few lights in my life. He would secretly slip me an egg on the way to school. He would treat my wounds after my adoptive father beat me. We got into a top university together, and naturally, we became a couple. Just when I was wholeheartedly looking forward to spending the rest of my life with him, he got together with Harper. “I shouldn’t have pitied her back then. She’s just a heartless, ungrateful monster.” Liam’s cruel words snapped me back to reality. So, being with me was just out of pity? When I was tutoring Liam, he once praised me: “Chloe, you are truly the most wonderful girl in the world.” After we got into university together, there was an opportunity for a three-month study abroad program. The university intended to send me. But Liam really wanted to go. He held me and begged me to give the opportunity to him. When I nodded, he happily picked me up and spun me around. “Chloe, don’t worry. I’m working this hard so I can give you a better life in the future. I want you to have the most beautiful wedding when you marry me.” Those promises from back then, Liam discarded like garbage. I was the only one gripping them tightly, refusing to let go. Even when what I was holding rotted away in my hands, I still clung to it like a lifeline. And Liam? He had forgotten long ago. 7 My father and brother used all their connections, trying to find another suitable bone marrow match for my mother. But a suitable match wasn’t that easy to find. Within half a month, the doctor issued an ultimatum. They had to find a match as soon as possible. Otherwise, my mother was in critical danger. So, the family started calling me again. Still unreachable. They looked at each other and realized that besides calling me, they had absolutely no other way to contact me. My father coughed. “Do any of you have phone numbers for Chloe’s friends or classmates?” Everyone’s eyes turned to Liam. Liam pulled out his phone and called a few classmates and friends he remembered me being close to. “Chloe? I haven’t talked to her in almost a year.” My brother’s face darkened. “This Chloe is a total freak. She doesn’t even have a single close friend or classmate. Who knows where she ran off to hide, not caring about anything. She deserves to be hated.” My mouth tasted bitter. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to stay here either. I didn’t want to be hated either. I wanted to be loved by everyone, just like Harper. 8 “Why don’t we try this?” Harper showed everyone the screen on her phone. It was a local emotional mediation TV show that was currently very popular. At that moment, an ad for the show was playing on the screen. “Love at 8:30, let’s meet in love. If you have any emotional problems, family conflicts, or need help finding relatives or friends, you can come to us.” My father hesitated a bit. “This is on television… will it look bad?” After all, the Sterling family was a prominent name locally. If this got on TV, and things went wrong, they’d become a laughingstock in their social circles. Harper bit her lip. “But we can’t reach my sister. We’re doing this to save Mom. As long as we can contact my sister, we should try any method.” My brother also thought it made sense. “Yeah. It’s not our fault anyway; we’re the victims here. If that evil Chloe isn’t afraid of losing face by abandoning her own biological mother, why should we care?” My father hesitated no longer. He immediately contacted the TV station, first promising a three-million-dollar sponsorship. Half an hour later, the station sent a crew over to interview and film. I couldn’t help but want to laugh. My family. Really hilarious. I was already dead. Were you going to put on a show for the whole city, or even the whole country? 9 “Chloe, come back. Mom doesn’t need you to donate bone marrow. Mom is just afraid she doesn’t have much time left and wants to see you one last time.” “Sister, please come back. It’s all my fault. You can hit me or scold me, I promise I won’t complain. Just come back. Dad, Mom, and Brother miss you so much.” “Chloe, come back. I didn’t treat you well before and made you unhappy. I’ll treat you better from now on.” “Chloe, come back. Mom and Dad miss you.” “Chloe, as long as you come back, Harper and I will cancel the wedding.” The family that cursed me out in the hospital completely changed their tune in front of the camera. A family that looked forward to my return like this… that was what I had always desperately hoped for. Except, this was all fake. It was just to get me to come back and donate bone marrow to my mother. Even though it was fake, I embarrassingly watched it all. If only this was all real. From the moment I could remember, my life had been dark. How I longed for light to shine in. I thought Liam was the light, but just as he was about to pull me out, he shoved me away, letting me fall into an even deeper abyss. Later, I thought the Sterling family was my salvation. Turns out, the Sterling family was just another abyss. My existence seemed to have never been wanted.

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1 I found myself in the legendary Soul Exchange. I pawned my capacity for love in exchange for another chance at life. When my parents brought my adoptive sister home again, I finally wasn’t consumed by the same hysteria as in my previous life. This time, my parents’ indifference, my brother’s disdain, my fiancé’s betrayal—I wouldn’t care about any of it. But then, why… why were they holding me, crying so heartbrokenly again? “Audrey, why are you spacing out? Your new sister will be here soon, let’s go downstairs to greet her!” Hearing that name again, I paused for a moment. I hadn’t been called “Audrey” for six or seven years. I turned to look at Arthur standing beside me, and sure enough, he was twelve again. The gangly pre-teen, dressed in a fitted suit, was eagerly looking towards the staircase. One hand still clutched my arm. I stared at his long, clean hand. Yet, what flashed in my mind was the imprint of his hand, grown-up, slapping my face. I frowned, instantly shaking him off. Arthur’s expression froze; he looked at me, bewildered. “Audrey, what’s wrong?” The next moment, the villa’s front door slowly pushed open. My parents’ voices drifted in: “Arthur, Audrey, come down, we’ve brought your sister home!” Arthur’s eyes lit up. He immediately abandoned me and ran downstairs. I stood at the top of the stairs, watching the harmonious scene of the family of four below. I reached up and pressed a hand over my heart. It was a strange sensation. A tingling warmth. But the tearing pain that used to accompany it was gone. 2 Arthur and I were twins. For the first twelve years, the Fosters only had us two children. And with the auspicious symbolism of having a boy and a girl twin, our parents and the elders of the family doted on us like precious jewels. Arthur, though only two hours older than me, acted like a true older brother, always letting me have my way, spoiling me into a veritable little princess. Someone once joked with my dad, “With your eldest daughter’s temper, it’s a good thing she was engaged to Ethan early, otherwise no one would dare marry her when she grows up.” My dad’s face immediately darkened. “My daughter wasn’t born to be married off. If no one marries her, she’ll stay home her whole life! I can afford to keep her!” Mom and Arthur didn’t say anything, they just kept showering me with good things, spoiling me even more recklessly. A jade bracelet worth over three hundred thousand dollars was the most ordinary birthday gift I received back then. It was also the last birthday gift I ever received. When I was twelve, one of my father’s old comrades passed away from an illness. On his deathbed, he entrusted his only daughter to my dad. That girl, named Seraphina, became my nominal sister. From then on, my family’s affection, trust, and attention slowly, little by little, drifted away from me. I admit, I hated her. I envied her! I envied how two tears from her could send the whole family into a frantic frenzy. I envied how she slowly stole everything I owned. I grew increasingly obsessive. My temper became more volatile, more erratic. Finally, on my eighteenth birthday, I witnessed her and my fiancé Ethan kissing in the garden. I completely lost my mind. I confronted my parents, my brother, my beloved… “Why are you doing this to me?” But they just looked at me with almost identical expressions of disappointment: “Do you even know what you look like right now? You’re a lunatic!” I laughed, tears streaming down my face. The pain in my heart made my whole body tremble. I lunged at Seraphina with a knife, only to be kicked into a rose bush full of thorns by Arthur. Everyone nervously rushed to protect Seraphina, comforting her and coaxing her to stop crying. No one cared that the knife I held was just a plastic one, meant for cutting cake. My parents, claiming I had mental issues, had me committed to a mental institution. I think Arthur’s kick must have injured me badly. I coughed up blood day and night, begging the doctors to call my parents repeatedly. But they never picked up. Finally, after another round of electroshock therapy, I took my last breath. And then I saw it—the rumored Soul Exchange. I traded all my emotions, my capacity to love, for a chance to be reborn. 3 “Audrey, come on! Weren’t you always looking forward to having a little sister?” Mom, holding Seraphina’s hand, stood at the doorway, smiling and waving at me. Seraphina, with her clean, pale face, sweetly called me “Sister.” But I showed no reaction. I simply turned and went back to my room, leaving them all in the living room, exchanging puzzled glances. My dad sighed, “This child, who upset her now?” Mom’s voice was awkward: “Maybe she’s not used to having a little sister yet, it’s fine, I’ll go coax her in a bit.” Seraphina’s voice was tearful: “Mommy, Daddy, does Sister not like me?” Before my parents could speak, Arthur eagerly cut in: “No, no, Audrey just has a bit of a temper, her heart isn’t bad. Don’t cry, don’t be sad, I’ll go tell her off for you later!” My parents beamed, “Arthur’s so sensible! Make sure you take good care of your sister!” Their laughter kept drifting into my room. Again, I thought how terrible the soundproofing in this mansion truly was. I hated it. It was deafening. I simply stood up and started inventorying my valuables. So much time had passed, I couldn’t remember what my twelve-year-old self owned anymore. Now, looking closely, I was astonished by the sheer wealth. No wonder Seraphina loved taking my things so much. Even my grown-up self couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. I picked up the jewelry from my vanity and stuffed it all into my backpack. Anyway, if I didn’t take it now, Seraphina would soon claim it for various reasons. I held a beautifully crafted jade bracelet, remembering how Seraphina had shattered it in my previous life. That was the first time I slapped her. The small girl, red-eyed, hid behind the door, her voice filled with such injustice, as if I had broken something that belonged to her. “Sister, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to… I’ve never had anything like this, I just wanted to look, I, I didn’t hold it steady…” She burst into tears, which brought my parents and Arthur running. That was the first time I went “crazy” and hit someone, and the first time my dad confined me. Seraphina cried into my mom’s leg until she almost fainted, yet still managed to glance up and stick her tongue out at me. I pointed at her, accusing, but the next second, Arthur violently shoved me into my room. “Audrey! Can’t you show some sympathy? Seraphina is so pathetic, how can you still bully her? It’s just a bracelet, you have countless others! What’s wrong with giving it to her?” I gritted my teeth, forcing down the sobs that rose in my throat. Just a bracelet? No! That was the birthday gift Arthur bought me with his first prize money from a creative competition! But he had forgotten… From that year on, I never received another birthday gift. Even the dolls, clothes, and jewelry that used to flow into my room like a stream were all redirected to Seraphina’s room. All because she said: “The kids at school laugh at me, they say I’m so skinny and small, and I have no taste, not as bright and shiny as Sister, like a little mud monkey…” She was lying! It was Arthur who helped her ostracize me with the entire class! He knew. He clearly knew everything. But he didn’t defend me. Watching as my parents grew increasingly disappointed in me, increasingly favoring their pitiful adopted daughter… 4 By the time I’d packed all my belongings, there was a gentle knock on my door. “Audrey? Sweetheart, dinner’s ready.” Mom’s voice was incredibly patient, unbelievably gentle. I didn’t respond. I just opened the door, allowing her to lead me to the living room. In my usual spot, Seraphina sat, looking constrained. My dad and Arthur were both helping her dish out food. I turned to Mom. “Should I eat on the floor?” Everyone froze. Mom’s grip on my hand unconsciously tightened. “Of course not! It’s my fault, I forgot to get you a chair. Ms. Davies, quickly get Audrey a chair.” Seraphina hesitantly stood up, her innocent big eyes instantly welling with tears. “Sister, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was your seat, I, I’ll give it to you!” Arthur quickly got up and restrained her, looking at me with reproach. “Audrey, it’s all the same where you sit, don’t scare Seraphina, she just got here! At the very least, you can sit to my left! Brother will sit between the two of you, how about that?” My parents remained silent, instead watching for my reaction. …Isn’t this tacit approval? I sneered inwardly. Truly, so childish. The whole family was putting on a show, but their acting was unusually terrible. It was truly off-putting. I took the chair from the housekeeper and dragged it directly to the farthest corner of the dining table, away from all of them. Arthur’s hand, dishing food for Seraphina, paused. He looked at me, wanting to speak several times, but ultimately said nothing. The meal finished in this strange atmosphere. As I stood to go upstairs, my dad called out to me. He seemed a little troubled, clearing his throat before smiling and speaking: “Audrey, Seraphina is a year younger than you and Arthur. You are her older brother and sister, you should be more accommodating to her. She just lost her biological parents, and she’s been through a lot emotionally. We are her family, we should take good care of her.” My mom chimed in, “Yes, Mom knows you might not be used to having a sister yet, but look how sweet Seraphina is. If you try to spend more time together, you’ll definitely grow close.” The two of them exchanged frantic glances across the table. Clearly, they both wanted the other to speak first about what was coming. I was getting impatient. My tone was cold. “So?” Mom was taken aback by my question. Perhaps she had never heard me speak to her with such a cold tone before, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. My dad took a sip of tea, then smiled and began, “Audrey, Seraphina just transferred here, and her physical and mental condition aren’t very good. We’re really worried about her, so… how about you and Arthur both stay down a grade, and go to school with her? How does that sound?” As if to be more convincing, he hastily added, “Arthur has already agreed, we’re just waiting for you.” I looked at Arthur. He had his head down, not daring to meet my gaze. 5 Here we go again. It was the same in my previous life. They made me, and Arthur, who was already in seventh grade, go back to sixth grade to “keep her company.” A year later, Ethan, who had grown very close to Seraphina, also transferred to our class, claiming he wanted to look after me… From then on, the three of them staged various little dramas in class every day, falsely accusing me of bullying Seraphina, which led to me being ostracized by the entire class. Bravo. Too bad I wasn’t in the mood to play such boring games with elementary schoolers anymore. It was a complete waste of life. I tilted my head, my eyes full of confusion. “She needs two servants to attend her just to go to school?” My dad was so shocked he dropped his chopsticks. “Aud-Audrey, what did you say?” “I said, since Arthur is already willing to cater to her, there’s no need to force me, is there?” Mom grabbed my arm, her face filled with horror. “Audrey, what are you talking about? What ‘cater’? Your dad and I just want you all to spend more time together, to bond earlier!” “I have no obligation to bond with her. Whoever wants to bond with her can go cater to her.” I stared at Arthur, who had been dumbfounded since earlier, and delivered my final words: “So it’s settled. From now on, you two go to elementary school, and I’ll continue my seventh grade. We won’t bother each other.” I turned and went upstairs, leaving behind a group of people comforting the incessantly sobbing Seraphina. Around nine that evening, Arthur knocked on my door. “Audrey, are you asleep?” “Something wrong?” “Uh… can you open the door?” “No.” Silence outside the door for a long time. Just when I thought he had left, Arthur’s voice came again: “Audrey, you’re unhappy, aren’t you?” My hands paused as I packed my clothes. I frowned, my voice indifferent. “No.” “You are! Audrey, is it because I was only paying attention to our new sister today and ignored you?” I was a little speechless. I really wasn’t unhappy. I just didn’t care. Dealing with them was so boring it made me want to throw up. The Audrey who would be so heartbroken by neglect that she’d fall into severe depression had already died alone in a mental asylum. I sighed. “Really, I’m not. Arthur, you can do whatever you want, you’re free to get close to anyone you like, I don’t care, as long as you don’t bother me.” Silence fell outside the door again. After a while, his voice carried a hint of resignation. “Audrey, Seraphina is truly pitiful. Look how small and frail she is, and she has such a sweet, soft heart. I’m really afraid she’ll be bullied… Audrey, I’ll go back and stay with her for a year, and once she’s settled, I’ll transfer to your school, okay?” Fine, fine, fine. The school is your family’s investment, you can do whatever you want. I rolled my eyes, packed the last piece of clothing. Put on my noise-canceling headphones, and lay directly on the bed. The next morning, I walked into the living room, pulling my suitcase and backpack. Everyone froze again. I looked up and saw Ethan, sitting next to Seraphina. The boy, my age, was already strikingly tall, even half a head taller than Arthur. The moment he saw me, he quickly stood up, his gentle, almond-shaped eyes curving slightly, his voice joyful: “Audrey! I’m here to pick you up for school!” I lowered my eyes, seeing Seraphina’s hand clutching his arm. “You won’t need to pick me up anymore.” “Of course, if you want to pick someone else up, that’s up to you.” 6 Ethan’s smile froze on his face. “Why?” I pointed my chin, indicating the suitcase behind me. Screech— Chairs scraping the floor. Not just Ethan, but my parents and Arthur too, all wore confused expressions. “Audrey? What’s that?” Arthur’s red-rimmed eyes were fixed on my suitcase. “Clothes, and some toiletries.” And my jewelry. “I forgot to tell you, starting today, I’m boarding at school.” “What?!” Several voices spoke in unison. My dad walked over, his face cold, and half-knelt to look at me. “Audrey? You’re boarding?” “Yes.” “Why? Isn’t it good at home? Did your mom and dad make you unhappy?” I remained silent, my eyes devoid of any emotion. My dad’s hand, resting on my hair, trembled slightly. He hesitated, then looked back at Seraphina. “Is it because… Seraphina?” At his words, before I could react, Seraphina bit her lip and let out a suppressed whimper. My mom quickly walked over and hugged her, then glared at my dad reproachfully. “What are you saying? How could it be? Audrey, you tell us, why do you want to board? It’s definitely not because of your sister, you like your sister, right?” Everyone waited expectantly for my answer. They were waiting for me to say, Yes, I like her. Boarding is my own reckless choice. I’m not upset. But I was especially good at disappointing people. “No, I don’t like her. I hate her. And it’s not just her.” “I also hate Mom and Dad, I hate Arthur, I hate Ethan! I hate all of you!” In an instant, my parents’ and Arthur’s faces turned ashen. Ethan, surprisingly, showed little reaction. He seemed to think I was just jealous and throwing a tantrum, his eyes full of tolerance and helplessness. As I walked past him with my suitcase, he even reached out, trying to take it from me. I dodged him. He didn’t get angry, still shamelessly following behind me. My parents tried to follow, but were interrupted by Seraphina’s cries. She cried more and more pitifully, her small face buried in my mom’s arms, her whole body trembling. “Waaah, Mom and Dad, please send me to an orphanage! Sister doesn’t like me… I don’t deserve to be home!” My parents, of course, launched into another round of comforting words, but Arthur, for some reason, was unusually silent. Ethan was still clinging to me, forcing his way into the car I got into. “Go ride in your family’s car.” “Why? I don’t want to! I want to be with you!” He tilted his head, showing his two front teeth, looking utterly unconcerned, like a pig not afraid of boiling water. My fingertips trembled slightly. I suddenly remembered, it was just like this in my previous life. When everyone else ostracized me, the only one who didn’t side with Seraphina was Ethan. He would stand firmly behind me when Seraphina framed me. He’d talk back to Arthur when he yelled at me. When my parents grew more and more disappointed in me, he’d hold me and whisper comforting words: “Audrey, don’t be afraid. You still have me. Ethan’s with you. If they like your sister more, that’s their business. I’ll only ever like my Audrey!” I was like a drowning person clutching the only piece of driftwood, depending on him more completely, trusting him fully. Until Arthur and I turned fourteen. Seraphina suddenly fainted for no reason. Ethan paused, and before anyone else could react, he pushed me aside and caught her steadily in his arms. The “master” he personally brought, in front of everyone at the birthday party, declared that my name was ill-omened, suppressing Seraphina’s destiny and causing her health to decline. How conveniently that “master” appeared! What a clumsy excuse! I still remembered the shock and embarrassment on the faces of all our relatives and friends. Everyone could see it was an act of bullying and humiliation directed at me. But my parents still took me to change my name without a word. From that day on, the name that had been mine for fourteen years – Audrey Foster – became a forbidden word in our house. They called me – Amelia Foster. Amelia… A name changed for Seraphina. It sounded beautiful, but I hated it. I hated it until the day I died! 7 I ignored Ethan. Anyway, it wouldn’t be long before he transferred to Seraphina’s class. I went directly to the dorm advisor with my paperwork and accommodation fees. Ethan saw me actually hand over the money. He finally shed his casual demeanor. He seemed to finally realize that I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I wasn’t kidding with them. I wasn’t waiting for them to coax me. I truly just wanted to be as far away from them as possible. “Audrey?” His confusion was like thick, swirling ink in his eyes. “Why do you hate even me? Did I do something wrong?” His fingers gently tugged at my sleeve, his voice cautious. He didn’t sound at all like someone who would eventually choke my neck with his bare hands. But those vivid images were still burned into my memory… I violently slapped his hand away. My eyes filled with disgust, I vigorously wiped my sleeve with a tissue. Ethan, pushed away by me, stared blankly at my face. His voice seemed muffled in his throat. “Audrey…” Meeting my look of revulsion, he finally fell silent. I quickly walked away from the hallway. And before class, I submitted a request to change classes. Even after the first period, Ethan didn’t show up in class. When I was walking through the familiar hallway, carrying a stack of books, I finally saw him, his eyes red-rimmed. Ethan looked at the books in my arms, his expression even more wronged. He rushed towards me in two strides. “Audrey, don’t change classes, okay?” But the next moment, a basketball flew from Class 2, hitting him squarely on the head. I, with my books, nimbly dodged, then turned and entered my classroom. Ethan, having hit the floor of the hallway, caused a stir. A boy in my class still held the posture of throwing a basketball. His school uniform hung loosely on him, a wide, exaggerated grin on his lips. “Oops, accidentally hit someone. Are you alright, pal?” I glanced at him. Carrying my books, I walked past him. Whether it was my imagination or not, his movements seemed to freeze for a moment. Then, he propped himself against the edge of a desk with one hand, casually pointed to the seat beside him, his voice full of swagger. “Any further back is the trash can. How about you sit next to me?” 8 I looked at him, but he quickly averted his gaze. “Ahem, well, the homeroom teacher said last class that a new student would be joining, and for me, the class president, to take good care of them.” As he spoke, he rubbed his face, turning his ears red. Class 2 president… Jason. Notorious as the class troublemaker. The students around me were either laughing at Ethan, who had fallen, or secretly glancing our way. I sighed. Class 2’s bad reputation wasn’t unfounded, after all… But I really didn’t want to sit next to Ethan! I pursed my lips. “Thanks, but I prefer to sit alone.” I placed my books on the desk in the last row, by the corner. Jason looked a bit annoyed, his tone urgent. “Hey, you… don’t sit there, I’ll swap with you! I’m taller, I’ll block your view of the blackboard.” Before I could refuse, Ethan, covered in dirt, rushed in. He slammed his hand on my books. “Audrey, come back with me!” “Let go.” “No!” … “Seriously, dude… are you performing a soap opera here?” Jason’s face looked like he’d bitten into something disgusting. “She wants to stay in our class, is it any of your business?” Someone at the door, I don’t know who, threw the basketball back to him. Jason balanced the spinning ball on one finger, looking at Ethan with an expression full of challenge. Ethan gritted his teeth, looking down at me. But he saw I had already started tidying my desk. Jason tutted, “Still not leaving! The bell has rung for class!” Ethan unconsciously clenched his hands. “Audrey…” I frowned, saying nothing. He finally gave up. He shot Jason a furious look, then walked away, turning back to me every few steps. I sighed in relief. “Thank you.” “Huh? Are you talking to me?” Jason pointed to himself. I nodded. He suddenly stood up straight, throwing the basketball into the trash can behind me, almost like muscle memory. I stared at him, bewildered, not understanding what that move was. But I noticed his face was redder now. “Force of habit… N-no problem!” I couldn’t help but smile faintly. His movements grew even stiffer.

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“Babe, did the bonus hit your account yet?” Ryan’s text message arrived five seconds before the notification from my bank. $120,000. After taxes, it was a clean $87,300. Before I could even screenshot it for him, another message buzzed through. “Perfect timing. I’ve got a sure-fire investment lined up, 18% annual return. Can you wire over $80,000?” I stared at the screen, a sudden chill creeping over me. In five years of marriage, this was the third time he’d asked me for a large sum of money. The first time, for a “startup.” $20,000. The second, to “pay off a debt.” $15,000. And now, this. I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened my banking app and transferred the entire $87,300 into a savings account he knew nothing about. Then, I texted him back. “The company’s tightening its belt this year. They’ve delayed the bonuses.” Three minutes later, Ryan called. I declined it. Two hours after that, I walked into our apartment. His side of the closet was empty. The small cash box we kept in the nightstand was gone. Even the heirloom gold bracelet my mother had given me was missing. I stood in the center of our bedroom and, to my own surprise, I laughed. Five years. It took five years for the fox to finally show its tail. 1 I didn’t call the police. And I didn’t call Ryan. I just stood there, in the middle of our ransacked bedroom, and methodically took a picture of every drawer pulled open, every item disturbed. All his clothes from the closet were gone. But my cashmere coat, the one he’d told me was “too expensive, don’t buy it,” was crumpled on the floor with two muddy footprints ground into the fabric. The nightstand had been pried open. It used to hold two things of value: my emergency cash fund of $12,000, and my mother’s savings bonds, worth another $8,000. She’d given them to me before she passed. All gone. I knelt, my hand sweeping under the bed, and my fingers brushed against a crumpled piece of paper. A receipt. From three days ago. Airline tickets. Two of them. To Miami. I stared at the two names printed in stark black ink: Ryan Peterson, and Zoe Reed. Zoe Reed. I’d seen that name before. It was on his phone once, a notification that flashed on the screen. Can’t wait, Ry. He told me she was just a new intern at his firm who’d added the wrong person. I believed him. Looking back now, I must have been blind. My phone rang, shattering the silence. It was Sarah. “Anna, where are you? It’s your birthday! The girls are all waiting for you at the bar!” I glanced at the calendar on my phone. January 18th. My 32nd birthday. “I…” I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. Sarah’s tone shifted instantly. “What’s wrong? What happened? Don’t move, I’m on my way.” Thirty minutes later, Sarah stood in my doorway, her face turning to stone as she took in the chaos of the apartment. “He ran?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “Yeah.” “How much did he take?” “The $20,000 from the nightstand, my mom’s gold bracelet, and…” I hesitated. “Whatever was left in his own checking account, maybe five or six thousand.” Sarah stomped her foot in fury. “I told you that man was a snake! I told you not to marry him, but you wouldn’t listen! And now look!” I stayed silent. Then a sudden thought struck her. “Wait, what about your bonus? The $87,000?” I pulled out my phone, opened the banking app, and showed her the balance. $87,300. “It’s safe,” I said. Sarah let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God for that.” I sank onto the sofa, my mind a tangled mess. “What was his endgame? For just twenty grand?” Sarah sat beside me, a bitter scoff escaping her lips. “You really think it was just about the twenty grand? Anna, think about how much you’ve spent on him over the last five years.” I froze. When I actually did the math, the numbers were staggering. The down payment on our apartment: $80,000 from my savings. The renovations: another $40,000, all me. His two “business ventures” and “debts”: a combined $35,000. And that didn’t even include the five years of groceries, bills, and vacations. “He’s drained you for hundreds of thousands, at least,” Sarah said, her voice softening as she watched my face. “Anna, you’re just too trusting.” I didn’t argue. She was right. My dad died when I was young, and my mom raised me on her own. Before she passed, she told me the thing she worried about most was me. She said I was too soft, my heart too easily swayed. When Ryan was trying to win me over, he was the perfect gentleman. He’d wait outside my office every day, bring me an umbrella when it rained, and cook soup for me when I was sick. My mom met him once and said, “He seems like such a steady, honest guy. You won’t get hurt with him.” Honest? I glanced at the plane ticket receipt on the floor. The irony was a physical ache in my chest. My phone rang again. It was him. Ryan. I answered, and his voice was as warm and gentle as always. “Hey, babe. Are you off work yet?” “Yeah.” “Okay, well, you’ll have to grab dinner on your own tonight. The office sent me on a last-minute business trip. It’s urgent, I’ll probably be gone for a week.” A business trip? For a week? I looked at his empty half of the closet and felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up inside me. “Okay. You take care of your work.” “You get some rest. Love you.” “You too.” I hung up. Sarah, who had heard the whole conversation, was staring at me, utterly aghast. “He still has the nerve to call you? And lie about a business trip?!” “He doesn’t know I came home early.” My voice was eerily calm as I placed the phone on the coffee table. My mind had never felt clearer. “He thinks I’m out with you guys celebrating my birthday, that I’ll be home late.” “So he timed this…” Sarah’s face grew darker. “He must think the bonus already hit your account, and by the time you found out he was gone, the money would be gone too.” I nodded slowly. If I hadn’t felt that sudden flicker of suspicion and moved the $87,300. If my office hadn’t let everyone leave two hours early today. If I hadn’t canceled my own birthday drinks. I would have come home to an apartment stripped bare, without a single dollar left to my name. I stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the glittering city lights below. On my 32nd birthday, my husband had taken my life savings and run off to Miami with another woman. And I didn’t even have the energy to cry. There was only one thought, growing sharper and colder in my mind: Ryan, you think this is over? This is just the beginning. 2 I didn’t sleep. Sarah stayed with me all night. She helped me document everything that was missing, confirming the final tally. $20,000 in cash and bonds. My mother’s bracelet, which had been appraised at over $6,000. And about $3,000 in cash I kept in a drawer. Nearly $30,000 in total. “That bastard,” Sarah seethed, grinding her teeth. I sat on the sofa, scrolling through Ryan’s Instagram feed from the last two years. It was a highlight reel of our perfect marriage. A picture of a steak dinner: Best meal ever, cooked by my amazing wife! A smiling selfie of us: Happy four-year anniversary to the love of my life. Forever and always. A candid shot of me working on my laptop: My wife works so hard. Can’t wait to spoil her with her bonus! The pictures featured me, our home, the watch I bought him for his birthday, the $800 down jacket I’d splurged on for him. The comments were a chorus of admiration. “Ryan, you’re one lucky guy!” “Anna is the definition of a perfect wife!” “Couple goals right here!” Looking at it now made me want to vomit. Sarah leaned over my shoulder. “He’s a hell of an actor,” she said with a sneer. I kept scrolling down, then stopped abruptly. A post from three months ago. The caption read: Company retreat. The views are incredible. The photo was of him in the mountains, the location vague. But I recognized the blue button-down shirt I’d bought him last year. I zoomed in on the picture, my eyes scanning every detail. And there, in the bottom corner, was a hand. A woman’s hand, with perfectly manicured red nails, holding out a drink to him. I hadn’t noticed it at the time. Now, I knew. That hand had to belong to Zoe. “Do you know this Zoe Reed?” Sarah asked. “Never met her.” I shook my head, my mind racing. Ryan didn’t have a real job. He always told me he was an “independent investor,” but he never seemed to make any actual money. He’d contribute a few hundred dollars to our joint account each month, claiming it was his “income.” The rest of our lifestyle was funded entirely by me. So how did he meet this Zoe? He never let me touch his phone, but I knew his passcode—our wedding anniversary. He hadn’t changed it. He probably thought I’d never bother to check. I opened his texts and started scrolling back, all the way to the beginning of his conversation with Zoe. The first message was from eight months ago. “Hey, Ryan. It’s Zoe. Mark from the club gave me your number, said you could help me with some investments.” Investments? Ryan, giving financial advice? I kept reading, and with every message, the sick feeling in my stomach grew stronger. Two months later, the tone of their chats shifted. “Ry, I miss you so much.” “I know, baby. Just wait till I get through this.” “Is your wife good to you?” “She’s fine. Just too busy with work all the time. Doesn’t really have time for me.” “Poor you. I’ll take care of you from now on.” By the time I reached that message, my hands were shaking. Beside me, Sarah’s face had gone pale with rage. “Those two absolute pieces of trash!” I ignored her, my eyes glued to the screen as I scrolled further. A month ago, the conversation turned to money. “Zoe, how are the preparations going over there?” “Apartment is all set. Rent is cheap in Miami, only $2,000 a month for a year.” “Perfect. Once I get things sorted on my end, we can finally be together.” “What about her money?” “It’s coming. Her bonus lands at the end of the month. I’ll think of a way to get it from her then.” “You’re amazing, Ry.” “After five years, I know exactly how she thinks. All I have to do is ask, and she’ll give it to me.” I stared at those last few lines for a long, long time. Five years. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than his personal ATM. Suddenly, Sarah jabbed a finger at the screen. “Look at this one!” I followed her finger to a message from yesterday. “Babe, did the bonus hit your account yet?” That was the text he’d sent to me. Immediately after, he’d sent one to Zoe. “Should be any time now. Once it lands, I’ll tell her about the investment.” “What if she says no?” “No way. I’ve been playing this part for five years. What’s she going to do?” “But what if she gets suspicious?” “Her? She’s a fool. She believes anything I tell her.” A fool. He called me a fool. A strange, sharp laugh escaped my lips. Sarah jumped. “Anna? Don’t scare me. What are you laughing at?” I closed the phone and stood up. “I’m laughing at myself.” “What?” “Ryan was right.” I walked to the window and watched the sky slowly lighten from charcoal gray to a bruised purple. “I was a fool.” “But not anymore.” 3 The next morning, I took a personal day from work. Sarah insisted on staying with me, but I waved her off. “I don’t need a babysitter. I have things to do.” “What kind of things?” “I’m going to find out exactly what Ryan has been doing for the last five years.” Sarah hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.” After she left, I walked out of the apartment with a purpose. First stop: the bank. I bought our apartment before we were married, but we’d been paying the mortgage together since. Or so I thought. I requested a full statement of the mortgage payments. Over the past five years, I had paid $87,000 toward the principal. Ryan had paid… $3,000. And that was only in the first two years. For the last three, he hadn’t contributed a single cent. The bank teller looked at my face, her expression sympathetic. “Ma’am, is there anything else I can help you with?” “I need to see the transaction history for my husband’s accounts.” “I’m sorry, but for that, we’ll need authorization from the account holder himself.” “He’s missing,” I said flatly. The teller froze. I took a deep breath and slid my ID and our marriage certificate across the counter. “I suspect he’s been involved in fraudulent activity. I need your cooperation to investigate.” Her professional demeanor changed instantly. She consulted her supervisor, who then consulted the branch manager. Finally, the manager came over. “Ms. Peterson, based on the circumstances, we can provide you with a partial statement of his primary checking account.” “Thank you.” Half an hour later, I walked out of the bank with a thick stack of papers. Ryan had one main account, the one I transferred money into every month for his “expenses” and “investments.” Over the past five years, nearly $150,000 had been deposited into that account. All of it from me. And the withdrawals? Seventy percent was transferred to an account under the name “Zoe Reed.” Twenty percent was withdrawn as cash. Only a meager ten percent was used for actual daily expenses. I stared at Zoe’s name, a cold certainty settling in my gut. Second stop: the IRS service center. Ryan claimed to be an “investor,” but he had no registered company. I filed a request for our joint tax transcripts, and what I found was interesting. He hadn’t had any official W-2 or 1099 income reported for the last three years. He had no job. So where did the few hundred dollars he gave me each month come from? It must have been my own money, cycled back to me to keep up the illusion. My last stop was the county records office. I ran a property search under Ryan’s name. Nothing. But then, on a hunch, I ran one for Zoe Reed. Bingo. A one-bedroom condo, purchased two years ago, right here in the city. The down payment was $18,000. The mortgage was for $400,000. And the name listed as the primary payer on the mortgage application: Ryan Peterson. I stood on the steps of the records office, clutching the printout, the paper trembling in my hand. Two years ago. That was when Ryan had asked me for $20,000 for his “startup.” He used my money to buy his mistress a home. I took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled out my phone. I sent a text to Sarah. Find me the best divorce lawyer you know. Her reply was instant. What happened? What did you find? He used my money to buy his mistress a condo. I’m on it. 4 The lawyer’s name was Mark Davies. He was a college friend of Sarah’s and specialized in messy divorces and asset recovery. After reviewing the documents I’d brought, his brow furrowed. “Anna, your situation is… complex,” he said, his tone serious. “How so?” “First, the marital infidelity is clear. You have the text messages as proof, so that’s straightforward. Second, he illegally transferred marital assets to a third party. The amount is substantial, and you have grounds to demand it all back.” He paused, leaning forward. “The problem is, your husband has disappeared, and he’s likely drained his accounts. The money is probably gone.” “So what are my options?” “We file a police report for fraud and theft. Then we sue him.” “Is it enough for jail time?” “Based on the amount, absolutely. Fraud over thirty thousand dollars is a felony. He could face three to ten years.” I was silent for a moment, processing that. “Are there other ways?” Mark studied me, seeming to understand what I was really asking. “If you want to get the money back, the most effective way is to find him, or to find his assets.” “Assets?” “Property, vehicles, large bank accounts…” “I know about the condo,” I said, my voice hard. “It’s in her name, but he’s the one paying the mortgage.” Mark’s eyes lit up. “If you can prove the down payment and the mortgage payments came from your marital funds, we can argue that the condo is a marital asset.” “How do I prove that?” “Bank statements, transfer records, and…” He looked at me expectantly. “Any communication about the purchase.” I thought for a second, then opened my phone and scrolled through the screenshots of Ryan and Zoe’s texts. I found the one I was looking for. “Babe, I transferred the down payment. We finally have a place of our own.” “Oh, Ry, you’re the best!” “Anything for you. As soon as I get the rest of the money sorted out, it’s all yours.” I handed the phone to Mark. He read the exchange, a slow nod of approval on his face. “This text is crucial. It’s solid evidence.” “So what’s the next step?” “First, we file a police report. Second, we file a motion to freeze her assets, specifically that condo. Third, we file for divorce, demanding full return of assets and punitive damages for emotional distress.” I stood up, my mind set. “Okay. I’m going to the police station right now.” As I reached the door, Mark called out, “Anna.” “Yes?” “Prepare yourself,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “I’ve seen a lot of cases like this. The husband runs off with the money, and even after a long fight, the wife only gets a fraction of it back.” “I know,” I said, turning to face him. My voice was steady, without a trace of a waver. “But I’m not doing this just to get the money back.” “Then what are you doing it for?” “To make him pay.”

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By the new intern’s second week, I kept a dark blazer at my desk out of habit. It was necessary. Whenever I wore a dress, she’d conveniently pass by and “compliment” me loud enough for the whole office: “So brave, Summer! Wearing a princess dress with skin that dark.” Nathaniel—my boyfriend and my boss—just watched, sometimes chuckling with the guys. If I stumbled with files, she’d clap and say I was faking it. If I drank strawberry milk, she’d clutch plain milk and ask if I was trying to act like a kid. I endured it, over and over. Until yesterday’s presentation. She glared at a typo on my slide and remarked, dripping with meaning: “Some people dress to get attention, but can’t even do their work right.” Every eye turned to me and Nathaniel. All the anger I’d held in finally snapped. I threw my half-full water glass in her face. Before I could process it, Nathaniel stood and threw his coffee at me, in front of everyone. That night, I resigned. 1 When Nathaniel threw the coffee, I didn’t flinch. The scalding liquid streamed down, soaking into my blouse. He’d thrown it with such force that the cup made a dull thud against my cheek before clattering to the floor. A fiery, stinging pain shot through my nerves as my skin instantly turned a blotchy red. I looked up at him, stunned. His hand was still frozen in the air, as if he, too, was shocked for a moment. But that flicker of surprise was immediately replaced by a deeper, more profound annoyance. “Summer, did you have to make a scene? Right here, right now?” The blue glow of the projector highlighted the sharp, tense line of his jaw, making him look like a stranger. Whispers broke out around the conference table. Some people ducked their heads, pretending to be absorbed in their documents. Amber Jones, the intern, slowly closed her laptop, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips. “Easy there, Mr. Shaw. Don’t be so harsh. Look, you’ve scared the poor girl speechless.” Her words were like gasoline on a fire. Nathaniel snatched a folder and slammed it onto the table. The loud bang made everyone jump. He glared at me, his face a cold mask. “This is a professional office, not your living room. Anyone who can’t separate their personal drama from their work has no place on this team. This is your only warning. One more time, and you’re out.” The room was deathly silent. I touched my dripping face and felt a hysterical laugh bubble up inside me. Twelve years. I had known Nathaniel since we were kids. I had been in love with him for twelve years. He always said I was immature, too emotional. But this was the first time he had ever publicly humiliated me. My eyes burned. The suppressed snickers in the room felt like a tidal wave, washing over me as colleagues whispered to each other. Amber leaned against Nathaniel’s side, her red lips curved into a victorious smile. I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and walked out of the conference room. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I couldn’t stay there, facing them. Outside, the sunlight was blinding. The glass doors of the office building reflected my pathetic image: makeup streaked and ruined by the brown liquid. I went to a convenience store and bought a pack of wet wipes and a face mask. The young cashier girl looked at my sorry state and quietly slipped two extra strawberry candies into my bag. Clutching the candy wrappers, I stood by a trash can, and was suddenly thrown back to my first day of kindergarten. Nathaniel had done the same thing then, pressing a strawberry candy into my palm and promising he’d always be there for me. 2 Nathaniel and I went way back—back to sharing a playpen and wearing matching onesies. Our families were next-door neighbors, and our moms had joked about arranging our marriage while they were still pregnant. When I started middle school, a group of girls decided to make my life hell. They’d hide my homework, splash ink on my skirts, and “accidentally” hit me with the ball during gym class. The worst of them was the class president, Liz. She once threw a meticulously crafted art project of mine into the trash, then smirked and said, “It was so ugly, the teacher wouldn’t have looked at it anyway.” I went to our homeroom teacher, my eyes red with tears. She just patted my head. “Liz is the class president, Summer. She’s just trying to motivate you to do better.” That night at dinner, I silently pushed rice around my bowl, trying not to cry. My dad noticed something was wrong, and was about to slam his chopsticks down and march to the school. Just then, Nathaniel’s dad stopped by to ask my dad to go fishing. He heard the story and turned, yelling into his living room: “Nathaniel! Starting tomorrow, you walk your sister to and from school!” The next day after school, Nathaniel kicked open the back door of our classroom. He grabbed Liz by the collar, dragged her to the front of the class, and said in a low, dangerous voice, “You’re the one who’s been bullying my sister?” At fourteen, he was already taller than most of the teachers, with a glare that could make a high school thug run for the hills. Liz was shaking like a leaf. Her little gang of followers shrank in their seats, silent. Before he left, Nathaniel tapped the chalkboard with an eraser, sending a cloud of chalk dust into the afternoon sun. “Let’s get this straight. Summer Lane is with me. You got a problem with her, you got a problem with me. Got it?” After that, no one ever bothered me again. And I, in turn, stuck to Nathaniel like glue. When he played basketball, I held his jacket on the sidelines. When he went to the internet cafe with his friends, I sat on a stool beside him, doing my homework. Nathaniel would always scowl at me. “Summer, can you please stop following me everywhere? My friends are making fun of me because of you.” But I didn’t care. Day after day, year after year, his gruff dismissals softened into resigned sighs. At the university freshman orientation party, I performed a dance in a white dress. When I came off stage, I saw him clutching my jacket, his eyes darting away, a suspicious blush creeping up his neck. “Seen enough?” I teased, poking his chest. He was so flustered he dropped his phone, fumbling three times before he could pick it up. “Who—who was looking at you? I was watching the host…” Later, at a family New Year’s dinner, our parents started teasing us. “So, when are we making this childhood engagement official?” Nathaniel didn’t say anything. He just quietly peeled a shrimp and dropped it into my bowl. I ducked my head to hide my smile. The idiot’s ears were so red they looked like they were about to bleed. 3 Life was moving along predictably until Amber Jones showed up. Amber was the new intern, and on her first day, she made the rounds with a tray of Starbucks, handing out coffees to everyone. “Please take good care of me, everyone!” As she passed my desk, the ends of her chestnut curls brushed against my keyboard, and the cloying scent of her perfume made me sneeze. She stopped, her eyes widening in mock surprise as she took in my pink computer, pink thermos, and pink mousepad. “Oh. My. God,” she gasped, taking a dramatic step back and covering her mouth. A peal of laughter erupted from her. “It’s the 21st century. Are there really girls who are still obsessed with pink?” The entire office looked up. My ears burned. The stares of my colleagues felt like needles on my back. Amber wasn’t done. “Wow, you even have a pink mouse! And is that a Lolita-style dress you’re wearing?!” A buzzing filled my ears. I’ve always loved cute, pink things and frilly dresses. It was a preference that had always drawn comments—some boys in elementary school had called me a poser, some girls thought I was being extra. But most people were kind, telling me the style suited me. This was the first time I had been so maliciously mocked in public. The shame was suffocating, as if I’d been stripped naked in front of everyone. I froze, my cheeks on fire, my fingers twisting the hem of my dress. “Oh, sweetie, I’m just kidding! You’re not actually mad, are you?” Amber leaned in conspiratorially. “Honestly, the pink Lolita thing is cute on you. It makes you look so… young.” “That’s enough,” a sharp voice cut in. I turned to see Nathaniel, his brow furrowed, his gaze like daggers aimed at Amber. “You’re a new intern. Is this really how you want to spend your first day? This isn’t a comedy club. One more stunt like this and you’re out.” But Amber’s eyes just lit up. She tilted her head, sizing him up, and bit her lip with a playful smile. “I’m so sorry. I was just trying to be friendly with my new colleague. I promise it won’t happen again.” HR eventually intervened and, in a stroke of cosmic irony, assigned Amber to the desk diagonally across from Nathaniel. From then on, she paraded around the office every day in flawless “no-makeup” makeup and four-inch heels. Sometimes, she would “accidentally” spill coffee on Nathaniel’s reports, then apologize with a pout. Other times, she would lean over his desk to ask for help, “unintentionally” flashing her lace bra and cooing, “Nate, can you help me check these numbers?” And I never wore one of my Lolita-style dresses to the office again. Two months later, I realized with a jolt that Nathaniel and Amber had actually become friends. That morning, he brought me breakfast as usual. But instead of my favorite strawberry yogurt drink, it was a carton of plain milk. “Milk makes me break out, remember?” I asked, holding the carton. Nathaniel was busy adjusting Amber’s monitor. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said without turning around. “You’re twenty-five, not five. Stop drinking that sugary kids’ stuff.” Amber turned around, twirling the carton of milk she was drinking between her fingers. “Sorry, sweetie! I was the one who wanted milk. But honestly, what kind of adult still drinks that syrupy-sweet stuff?” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re not trying to act younger than you are, are you?” Smack. I slapped the milk carton down on her keyboard. White liquid splattered across her brand-new designer blouse. “Do you just love telling other people what they should like?” The office fell silent. Amber’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “I… I just thought milk was healthier. Summer, please don’t be mad. It’s my fault.” “Summer!” Nathaniel grabbed my wrist. “It’s not like you’re lactose intolerant. What’s the big deal? And Amber’s not wrong. You need to grow up and act your age.” I looked at the impatience in his eyes and suddenly lost the will to argue. 4 Amber’s attacks became a slow-drip poison in my professional life. At lunch, if I used a sanitary wipe to clean my utensils, she’d tap her bowl with her chopsticks and announce, “Attention everyone! Her Royal Highness is about to dine!” Her clique would perform exaggerated bows, and someone even started filming. When the department rearranged the seating chart, I was carrying a heavy box and stumbled. Amber started laughing and clapping. “Look, everyone! The Disney princess can’t carry her box! Where’s Prince Charming to come to the rescue?” She’d playfully shove a male colleague toward me. “Go on, it’s an honor to help a princess in distress!” At first, Nathaniel would frown and say, “This is an office, not a playground.” Amber would just sway his arm and pout. “Oh, you’re no fun! It’s just a joke. Summer doesn’t mind, right?” But lately, Nathaniel had started just watching in silence. Amber would lean in close to him, whispering just loud enough for me to hear, “Don’t you think she’s just so… fake? That whole innocent act doesn’t really fit in with the rest of us. I’m just trying to help her fit in, you know? For the team.” I saw Nathaniel’s eyelashes flutter. After a moment, he gave a quiet, “Hmm.” In that moment, I understood. In his eyes, my love for frilly dresses was just an affectation. My preferences were childish. So when I saw Amber toying with Nathaniel’s tie clip later that day, shooting me a triumphant smirk, for the first time, I didn’t feel a pang of jealousy. On the first day back after the New Year, I had just settled at my desk when Amber’s cheerful taunt cut through the morning quiet. “Summer, if I had your confidence, I could do anything! Look at you, wearing a dress like that even when you’re so dark-skinned. If I were you, I’d never dare. Is this look supposed to be Snow White, or more like… African tribal princess?” Nathaniel was sipping his coffee. I saw his shoulders shake with a suppressed laugh, the latte in his mug rippling. Amber, encouraged, pressed on. “And honey, at your age, isn’t it a little late to be playing dress-up…?” The water in my glass flew before my reason could catch up. Her carefully tattooed eyebrows began to melt. The glue on her eyelash extensions turned milky white. Her foundation streaked, carving pale yellow rivers down her cheeks. She looked like a cheap oil painting caught in a downpour. “Summer!” Nathaniel seized my wrist, his grip like iron. “Where are your manners? Apologize to Amber. Now.” His nails dug into my skin. The pain made my vision swim. I stared at his cold, furious face and laughed. “Why should I apologize? For what?” “For throwing water on her!” he snarled, his voice low and menacing. My eyes burned. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s been mocking me for months! If anyone should apologize, it’s her.” “You could have told her to stop. You could have argued back. You don’t get to resort to violence,” he said, his tone infuriatingly self-righteous. “This is a workplace. No one is going to coddle you. Apologize.” I let out a cold laugh. “No. I did nothing wrong, and she doesn’t deserve an apology.” Nathaniel looked at me with an expression of profound disappointment. “How did you become like this? Summer, I’m so disappointed in you.” “Funny. The feeling is mutual.” He opened his mouth to say more, but I cut him off. “Are you done? I said I’m not apologizing. What are you going to do, call the cops?” A bitter, angry smile twisted his lips. He grabbed the cup of coffee from his desk and, without a moment’s hesitation, threw it straight at my face. I froze. For a second, he seemed to freeze too. I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Nathaniel, we’re done.”

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