My online boyfriend and I agreed to swap photos today. I thought he was catfishing when he sent a professional, high-fashion shot of the city’s most famous, untouchable billionaire heir taken during a press conference. I laughed, annoyed. I shot back a photo of a famous A-list actress in a high-fashion editorial. [Dumbass. If you’re going to use a fake photo, at least pick a niche one, okay?] Then I immediately blocked and deleted him. That night, the real billionaire heir personally made a high-profile post on social media looking for someone. [My girlfriend blocked me. Can anyone help me explain to her?] Attached to his post was a screenshot of my text message, complete with the dreaded red exclamation mark indicating it was undelivered. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. 01 After breakfast, I spent an hour putting on a full face of makeup. I sat by the window, waiting for the exact moment the lighting was perfect. Because today was the day my online boyfriend and I agreed to swap photos. [Ready, baby?] His message popped up. I quickly replied: [I’m a little nervous, baby.] Even though our values aligned perfectly and we talked about everything, I had never told him that I was actually a somewhat famous actress. I was more of a “love-to-hate” celebrity, but I had my fair share of fame. Worried he wouldn’t believe a photo, I planned to video call him right after. I wondered how he would react. He replied quickly. [I’m nervous too. I’m scared you’ll think I’m ugly.] [Baby, I really tried to pick the best picture of myself I could find.] [Are you going to be disappointed in me, baby?] More than once, he had expressed insecurity about his looks. But having seen too many fake, perfect faces in Hollywood, I honestly didn’t care about his outward appearance. [Of course not. As long as you aren’t using a fake photo to trick me, I’ll love you no matter what you look like.] [That’s good. Kisses, QAQ.] [Kisses.] He was very clingy, and I didn’t mind pampering him. He went quiet for a few minutes, seemingly building up the courage. Then, he sent an image. It was a man in a impeccably tailored suit, surrounded by a swarm of microphones, his eyes sharp, radiating an intense, powerful aura. I recognized him instantly. He was Ethan Thorne, the notorious, multi-billionaire heir to a massive New York real estate empire. Because of his insane good looks, every interview shot of him became a viral sensation. This was actually his most famous “it” photo. My online boyfriend texted: [Baby, this is me. What do you think?] [Nervously twiddling fingers.jpg] I froze. I had always thought my online boyfriend was intelligent, sophisticated, and perfect for me. We clicked on everything. But what was this? Sending an interview photo of another man? A hundred-billionaire heir playing around with online dating? Was I not awake, or was he dreaming? And I specifically told him not to use a fake photo! Did I look that gullible? I hate deception more than anything. Fury instantly erupted within me. I immediately found an obscure editorial shot of myself—one not widely circulated—and sent it to him. [Dumbass. If you’re going to use a fake photo, at least pick a niche one, okay?] Without waiting for a reply, I blocked his number at lightning speed. 02 I met my online boyfriend while playing video games. I went into the game and deleted him from my friends list, wiping out our “High Affinity” status of over ten thousand points, ensuring he had no way to contact me ever again. Then I threw my phone onto the sofa, spent an hour washing off my makeup, and curled up alone, fuming. All those photos of abs and obliques he used to send me… they must have been pulled from some random fitness Instagram. And to think I actually admired and complimented his physique! That dead liar! I was so angry I couldn’t function, so I just buried my head in the pillows and went to sleep. That evening, I was woken by a call from my manager, Sarah. Her voice sounded strange. “Chloe, have you seen the trending topics today?” “What happened?” I mumbled, forcing my eyes open and opening the X app (formerly Twitter). I realized a topic had exploded just minutes ago. #Even Billionaire Heirs Do Online Dating# My heart did a somersault. I was instantly wide awake. This topic… it couldn’t be what I thought it was, right? Cautiously, I clicked in. Ethan Thorne, who rarely ever posted on social media, had posted a few minutes ago. [My girlfriend blocked me. Can anyone help me explain to her?] The attached photo looked increasingly familiar. Wasn’t this the final chat log between me and my online boyfriend? The only difference was that on his end, there were several more messages that failed to send, marked with red exclamation points. [Huh?] [It’s not a fake photo, baby. It’s really me.] [Baby?] [Why did you delete me? Can you at least listen to my explanation?] [Baby… #crying#] The internet was in absolute shock. [What? Ethan Thorne does online dating?] [I’m dying to know who the girlfriend is. Did she save the universe in a past life to be dating Ethan Thorne online?] [But she thought he was a catfish. LMAO.] [Honestly, if it were me, I’d think it was a fake photo too. Hahaha.] [But it looks like he’s publicly searching for her, right? Does anyone know this girl?] [If anyone knows her, please tell her to answer him! Mr. Thorne is so anxious he’s actually posting on social media!] I scrolled through the comments, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. So, my online boyfriend actually didn’t use a fake photo? He really was Ethan Thorne! While I was still reeling from the shock, a new trending topic suddenly appeared. #Celebrity and Billionaire’s Online Romance: I’m Obsessed# I gasped. No way the internet detectives were this fast, right? Had I been exposed already? Nervously, I clicked. It was a new post from the currently hot, “it girl” actress, Brooke Sterling. [No need for anyone to help explain. I know it was just a misunderstanding~] Her post was so heavily pointed it was just short of quoting Ethan’s original post. Netizens went wild. [The internet is amazing! Found her in minutes!] [So the online girlfriend is Brooke! OMG! A movie star and a billionaire heir? What an insane online romance!] [Brooke is too cute. She’s a celebrity herself doing online dating, yet she didn’t believe a billionaire was doing the same. Hahaha.] [Help, they are so perfect together. Brooke is about to become a billionaire’s wife!] 03 Sarah’s voice came through the phone again. “Do you see it now? We originally planned to have you on that food and lifestyle reality show to gain some popular favor, but now that Brooke and Ethan Thorne’s online romance has exploded, all the buzz for the show tomorrow will be about her. You’re going to be totally eclipsed!” I was stunned. Because I was a decent cook, we had specifically chosen a slow-paced lifestyle show called “The Great American Farmhouse” to try and fix my shaky reputation with the public. And the show was broadcasting live starting tomorrow. With all the buzz going to Brooke, I would be nothing more than a background extra again. I gritted my teeth. “What if… the person actually dating Ethan Thorne is me?” When I was dating Ethan online, I used a private account, completely separate from my professional, public-facing celebrity account. As a result, not even Sarah knew that the girl in question was me. I explained the whole story to Sarah, leaving her completely stunned. “Brooke Sterling actually dared to clout-chase this? Is she insane?” It was common knowledge that Ethan Thorne was not only vindictive but also ruthless. No one dared mess with him, and even fewer dared to lie to him. Even knowing I was his actual online girlfriend, I didn’t dare step forward and admit it. Because I hadn’t just blocked him; I had called him a dumbass. Sarah and I stayed up all night talking, but we couldn’t come up with a foolproof plan. With only a rough layer of makeup and very little sleep, I was thrown into the reality show production. When I arrived, several other guests were already gathered around Brooke Sterling, chatting excitedly. “Brooke! What’s it like dating a billionaire heir online?” “You are way too good at online dating!” “What is Ethan like in private?” “Now that you’ve cleared up the misunderstanding, have you unblocked him and added him back?” A barrage of questions left Brooke looking shy. She covered her mouth, giggling. “He hasn’t actually reached out to me personally yet. As for the block list… I’m not planning on taking him off just yet.” This was a response nobody expected. “What? You haven’t unblocked him yet!” “Someone who dares to treat Ethan Thorne like that—I guess there’s only one Brooke Sterling in the world, huh?” “I can’t imagine how much you must be pampered in real life!” Brooke gave another shy smile. “Oh, stop it. You guys shouldn’t talk like that.” Everyone was filled with envy. Only I slowly frowned. She didn’t unblock Ethan Thorne… wasn’t that because he was on my block list? However, my subtle expression was quickly caught by the live-stream audience. [What is Chloe doing? What’s with that face?] [I heard she’s insanely jealous that Brooke is dating a billionaire heir. She can’t even hide it on her face!] [LMAO, who told her not to have Brooke’s luck?] [Why did the production team invite her? To watch her pout?] Brooke noticed me too. She walked over with a bright smile. “Chloe, you’re finally here! The host said they’re going to announce a huge surprise once everyone is here. We were just waiting for you.” I silently glanced at the time. Recording was supposed to start at 8:30 AM; it was barely past 8:00 AM now. Because of the Ethan Thorne situation, I hadn’t gone to sleep until 5:00 AM, so I certainly hadn’t arrived early. But I wasn’t late either! But netizens had already quickly grasped Brooke’s implication. [So Chloe still hasn’t fixed her diva habit of being late?] [A whole room is waiting for just her. The nerve!] [Only our Brooke is kind enough to give her a smile after waiting white-knuckled for so long!] [I’m so sick of Chloe. Showing up so late. Can we just have her kicked off this show?] 04 I really wanted to roll my eyes at her. But I held back. I looked at the host. “What huge surprise?” The host gave a mysterious smile. The large screen behind him suddenly lit up. It was a screenshot of a recent social media post. Ethan Thorne had posted four words just three minutes ago: [Going where you are.] Attached was the logo for our reality show, “The Great American Farmhouse.” The host introduced: “Ta-da! Our show is honored to welcome—the CEO of the Thorne Group himself, Mr. Ethan Thorne, as a guest!” Netizens immediately went wild for the “couple.” [‘Going where you are’? Isn’t this literally chasing his wife to the production set?] [Does everyone remember what Brooke just said? Ethan hadn’t contacted her yet, so she wouldn’t unblock him. And then Ethan actually came to the show for Brooke. This is too much pampering!] [He’s a man who has a fixed schedule for interviews, and he just shows up on a viral reality show? If this isn’t true love, I don’t know what is!] [I can’t even imagine how sweet it will be when the billionaire heir actually arrives on set!] [Can I please have Brooke’s life script in my next life?] Brooke’s expression was also wonderful. First, her eyes slowly widened, then she covered her mouth in disbelief. Finally, she lowered her head bashfully. Someone immediately teased, “Brooke, the billionaire heir chased you all the way to the show. You should probably unblock him now, right?” She covered her face self-consciously. “Oh, stop it… I’ll see how he behaves when he gets here~” This caused another round of excitement from the crowd. I was extremely confused. Did Ethan Thorne really just believe that Brooke Sterling was his online girlfriend? He was even coming onto a reality show for this? I couldn’t help but remember when I was dating Ethan online. Whenever he made me angry, he would send me money transfers. If I ignored him, he would send me photos of his abs. If I kept ignoring him, he would pull his waistband lower and lower. He certainly knew how to coax a girl. But I was the one he was coaxing. How had he become this person in Brooke’s mouth, someone who could be effortlessly manipulated by her time and time again? I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I looked up at Brooke. “If Ethan Thorne ‘behaves well,’ are you sure you can unblock him?” Brooke was stunned for a moment. But she quickly nodded. “Of course.” Another guest was confused and asked me, “Chloe, why would you ask that?” I didn’t answer immediately. If I said right now that I was Ethan Thorne’s actual online girlfriend, wouldn’t I get absolutely shredded by the public? The netizens were already roasting me. [Is this Chloe crazy? Why did she randomly pipe up with that?] [Her jealousy is practically oozing through the screen. Seeing how much Mr. Thorne pampers Brooke, she’s probably never experienced that in her life, right?] [Seriously, what is there to question? Ethan Thorne came onto the show for Brooke!] [She is so rude. But everyone shouldn’t be angry. When Mr. Thorne gets here, he will definitely handle her for Brooke! Kick her out!] Brooke, catching my hesitant expression, straightened her back. She frowned and looked at me. “Yeah, what’s the meaning of that question? If I can’t, can you?” Her tone was filled with interrogation. There was even a hint of provocation in her eyes. “Chloe, are you just…” Before she finished, the sarcasm was loud and clear. Am I envious? Am I jealous? Am I intentionally trying to pick a fight? Everyone around was staring at me. I was getting heated from the scrutiny. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I opened my mouth. “Yeah, I can. “He’s on my block list right now. Do you want to see?” 05 For a moment, everyone on set was stunned. Nobody expected me to say that. The scene fell into a dead silence. Everyone looked at each other, speechless. A guest closest to me was the first to react, looking at me in shock. “Chloe, what are you saying? Who is on your block list? Ethan Thorne?” I realized only then that I had been too impulsive and had actually spoken the truth. But what was done was done. I just nodded silently. The guest was a bit confused. “So you’re saying… you also blocked Ethan Thorne?” I replied casually, “Yeah.” Netizens: [This girl wants to clout-chase everything, doesn’t she? Brooke blocks the billionaire heir, so she has to say she blocked him too, even though he doesn’t even know who she is…] [And who cares if you blocked him? Is blocking someone a flex? What is with her attitude? Maybe she tried incredibly hard to add Mr. Thorne on a messenger app, he ignored her, she had a meltdown, and blocked him herself to feel some kind of moral victory?] [Exactly. Is Brooke the same as her? Brooke and Ethan are a couple having a playful lover’s tiff, and she has to butt in. What a dumbass.] While this was happening, Brooke had already run over to stand in front of me, looking very surprised. “How could you have Mr. Thorne’s contact information?” I was utterly sick of this woman now. I decided not to hide it anymore. “Why wouldn’t I? Is there no possibility that the person dating him online was actually me?” I stared at Brooke and spoke with complete confidence. Netizens burst out laughing. [Are my ears broken? What did Chloe say? She said she’s the one who was online dating Ethan Thorne?] [She’s insane… she dares to fake something like this? Brooke and the billionaire heir have already publicly acknowledged each other online. Isn’t she afraid Mr. Thorne will have her blacklisted from the industry immediately?] [Ugh, I can’t take this crazy woman anymore! One minute questioning others, the next minute having a manic episode herself. When is Ethan Thorne getting here to put her in her place?] [But… she looks serious. Not like she’s faking. And do you guys remember? The final photo the online girlfriend sent him was actually a shot from Chloe’s editorial.] [Do you have any critical thinking skills? They already suspected the other person was using a fake photo. How could they send their actual picture? Whoever that person is, it’s definitely not Chloe!] [Yeah, I don’t get why you guys are even doubting this. Ethan Thorne posted on social media to chase his ‘wife.’ It was obviously a response to Brooke. Chloe, the clout-chaser, needs to get lost!] Brooke was furious. “What do you mean? Are you trying to say you’re the one dating Mr. Thorne and not me? That I’m an imposter?” Even though she was angry, there wasn’t a trace of guilt or nervousness on her face. I found it strange. Why wasn’t she afraid of being exposed right here? Seeing her eagerness to refute me, I interrupted her directly. “Then why was your first reaction that I was an imposter? What if we were both dating him at the same time?” 06 Brooke hadn’t expected me to say that. She was speechless for a few seconds, her face flushing as she retorted loudly, “Mr. Thorne would never do such a thing!” Her reaction was already a bit extreme. I just gave a shallow “Oh.” I was silently debating whether to expose Brooke right now. After all, a live broadcast would be hard to manage. But before I could decide, Brooke actually made the first move. “Chloe, I’ve always considered you a good friend, but you questioned me first, slandered Mr. Thorne second, and now you actually dare to claim you’re his girlfriend. Have you forgotten? This is a live broadcast! Even if I don’t mind, I have to defend Mr. Thorne’s reputation! If you can’t produce evidence right now, then please apologize to Mr. Thorne and me immediately!” She spoke with sincere emotion, tears streaming down her face. She stood there, biting her lip stubbornly, like a pure little flower that had been wronged but refused to break. The guests who had remained silent earlier now looked at me accusingly. “Seriously, that’s not right, Chloe.” The netizens were enraged. [Seriously, is this Chloe a psycho? How could she say something like ‘Thorne was dating two women at once’?] [I’ve had enough! I feel so bad for Brooke. Not only does she have to face this crazy woman’s questioning, but now her man is being slandered too!] [Brooke looks like she’s about to cry in the next second! Someone please go hug her! And someone punch Chloe, that dumbass!] [Heh, she better be able to produce some decent evidence. If she can’t, she can wait to get kicked out of the industry! Ethan Thorne will destroy her when he gets here!] I remained silent for a moment. To prevent any accidents like accidentally switching accounts while posting, I always used a completely separate, private phone for my private entertainment. I really hadn’t brought that phone with me to record this variety show. When I stated this difficulty, Brooke’s triumph became visibly apparent. She appeared to be distressed for me, but was increasingly certain I was just slandering her. “Didn’t bring your phone? The internet is so advanced now. Can’t you just log in to your account on another phone? Or… do you not have an account at all?” I was completely fed up. She was begging me to expose her. “Fine. I’ll log in,” I interrupted her. I was done wasting words. I directly grabbed a production staff member’s work phone and logged in to my secondary messenger account right then and there. Someone whispered, “The profile picture seems to be the same one as Ethan Thorne’s online girlfriend…” Brooke’s expression changed. She clenched her fists and leaned in to look. I shoved the block list directly in her face. “See?” There was only one person on the block list. The account name was simply “E.” The profile picture was the identical one Ethan Thorne had previously shared on social media. Brooke obviously hadn’t expected me to actually produce evidence. She froze on the spot for a moment, unable to move. 07 The netizens were stunned. [What’s going on? Chloe actually seems to have a real case here…] [OMG! Both profile pictures match. And since she was asked on the spot, it’s unlikely to be fake, right?] [I feel like it might be real. Because that editorial photo really was Chloe’s, and it really was obscure. Why would anyone else save that unless it was her?] [Does that mean Brooke is the liar? But in that situation, how could someone send their actual picture? I don’t believe it.] [It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. The evidence has been produced. Is Brooke Sterling about to have her entire career collapse…] Brooke struggled for a long time but couldn’t squeeze out a single word. “This? This…” Everyone was gathered around looking. In amidst the shocked stares, a guest suddenly said, “But, you don’t have any chat history to prove you were in a relationship…” I froze. Because I was logged in on a new phone, the chat history was indeed blank. Brooke seemed to be instantly revived. She snaps her head up. “Exactly! And how can you prove this person is Mr. Thorne? Anyone can use the exact same profile picture!” Having said that, she suddenly looked wronged again. “But for you to be able to produce this so quickly… could it be… could it be…” Before she finished her sentence, her big, watery eyes, full of unspeakable emotion, darted a few times towards the nearby directing team. Her eyes were filled with the hurt of betrayal. The implication was practically screaming. The netizens seemed to have a lightbulb moment. [Holy sht! Yeah, why didn’t I think of that? Chloe’s whole reveal looked so smooth and scripted. Could this be a storyline she worked out with the directing team?]* [Yeah. She unusually questioned Brooke over and over, Brooke was bound to get angry and ask for evidence, and then the production team just ‘happened’ to have a spare work phone, and she logged in so smoothly, and there was a ‘perfect’ account ready… it looks more like something prepared in advance.] [Fcking hell, I’m convinced! If Brooke wasn’t smart, she almost got played!]* [And Chloe just said something about ‘dating the same person at the same time’… I bet the next step was to act out a tragic script where she was cheated on to get sympathy, right?] [So this directing team is trying to pull this stunt to stir up buzz for Chloe? How low can you get?] The other guests immediately looked at me with strange, wary eyes. I even heard them whispering. “It couldn’t be like that, right? I thought this was a completely unscripted live broadcast…” “Who knows what kind of ‘benefits’ she gave them…” At that moment, I was turned to stone. I knew Brooke Sterling was bold enough to lie, but I didn’t expect her to be this good at counter-attacking! I don’t have evidence: I’m lying. I have evidence: It’s a script. Where is the justice! Seeing that the finger was being pointed at the production team, the host quickly stepped forward to smooth things over. “Everything that happens in our show is real! As for matters regarding Mr. Thorne… he himself will be arriving at the production set very soon!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “410910”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I was thirty-two. I became a sugar mama to a broke college boy. One day, while walking down the street, I saw him carefully holding a girl in his arms. His eyes were red, looking aggrieved yet restrained: “Please don’t think I’m dirty…” We had a very formal, transactional relationship. Why did he make it sound like I had defiled him? If he felt dirty, there were plenty of people who wouldn’t. I exhaled a puff of smoke, turned to look at a blonde guy passing by in a fake Balenciaga shirt, and said: “Ask him if he’s willing to call me ‘Mommy’.” 01 Cole was brought to my office that afternoon. The sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the thirty-second floor, landing on his Balenciaga T-shirt, Yohji Yamamoto pants, and Louis Vuitton sneakers. Fake. Fake. And fake. But you had to admit, he had a gorgeous face. Unlike Ethan, who had a cold, aloof, and rather proud demeanor. Cole looked like a product of modern technology, a plastic surgery template. Exquisite, cheap, and a bit vulgar. But I had eaten too much fine dining lately; today, I wanted some junk food. Since they were all selling themselves anyway, why should I find someone who did it unwillingly? As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew I had found the right guy. “I heard you want to be my mom?” “Should I call you that right now?” This guy was way too eager. But I wasn’t into that kind of roleplay. It felt like today he’d want me to launch his career. Tomorrow, he’d ask me to get him a lead role in a movie. The day after, when his sugar baby status got leaked, he’d be begging me to suppress the scandal. It was too cliché. Way too cliché. I ignored him and flipped through the file my secretary, Mr. Davis, had handed me. He came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. His family wasn’t poor; his situation was much better than Ethan’s, whose dad was a severe alcoholic and mom a gambling addict. His grades were average, much worse than Ethan’s. But he was actually two inches taller than Ethan. I looked up at him; he smiled, showing all eight teeth. He was handsome, sure, but a bit too fawning. I curled my lip, feeling a slight sense of disdain. “How many have you been with? Men or women?” Cole’s expression remained natural, showing no shame at being offended. “Just you!” Bullshit. I said, “Go downstairs later and Mr. Davis will take you to the hospital for a full-body checkup. If everything is fine, come see me in a week.” “Yes, ma’am.” He left, looking thrilled. As he turned around, I caught sight of his perky rear end. I pondered for two seconds whether he was wearing padded underwear. 02 A week later. Cole hadn’t shown up yet, but I ran into Ethan instead. He was wearing a faded dress shirt, washed-out jeans, and a pair of Converse. Fresh and handsome, the quintessential poor but brilliant campus crush. He stepped off the bus; he wouldn’t even splurge on an Uber. I really had no idea what he spent the $30,000 I gave him every month on. Don’t misunderstand. He didn’t come looking for me; I was usually the one who went to him. He was working part-time at the coffee shop downstairs from my office. Looking like that, he naturally attracted young girls asking for his number again. Ethan politely refused, saying he already had someone he liked. In the past, I would have confidently assumed he meant me. After all, I was beautiful, rich, and generous. The key was that last part. What was the difference between not liking me and not liking money? It wasn’t like I needed him to be madly in love with me. We were all adults here. Taking so much from me but not offering a shred of affection seemed a bit hypocritical. I walked in and casually found a seat. Ethan didn’t notice me. Just then, a meticulously dressed girl walked in. Ethan spotted her immediately, and at the same time, froze in nervousness. The girl was wearing a tweed Chanel suit and a Miu Miu hair clip, exuding a wealthy heiress vibe. I hadn’t looked closely at her the last time we were on campus. This time, I got a clear look at her face. I ran through the socialites of New York high society in my head, but couldn’t place which family she belonged to. While my mind wandered, Ethan’s face had turned completely red. I heard him cautiously ask: “Are you here to see me?” The girl raised her chin and said: “No, I just heard the coffee here is good.” If Ethan had a tail, it would be drooping right now. “Can you recommend some coffee?” Ethan immediately and diligently went through all the coffees on the menu. He explained everything in painstaking detail, describing the origins and tasting notes of every single bean. The people waiting in line behind her got impatient and left. The girl, however, seemed to have tuned him out and casually ordered the house special. Ethan thoughtfully explained how to drink it, warning her that it might be a bit bitter. He was completely different from how he acted in front of me—he was acting as humble and subservient as possible. I didn’t feel angry. Just confused. Why didn’t he act like this in front of me? I was his client, after all. A moment later, it dawned on me, and I chuckled softly. He seemed to think— That his youth, traded for my $30,000 a month, a gifted condo, and countless presents, was a fair exchange of equal value. The men in my family had a tradition of keeping mistresses. I had seen female college students, actresses, and even some professionals. A few days ago, my uncle almost got a girl pregnant and had to pay a three million dollar severance fee. A sugar mama as generous and not-hard-to-look-at as me was incredibly hard to find. Consent didn’t mean he wasn’t getting the better end of the deal. Before, when I spoiled Ethan, I didn’t care about this pocket change. He took my money but stood me up several times. He’d use excuses like tutoring, working part-time, or having student council work or lab duties. I never got mad; I even had my housekeeper make soup and deliver it to him. Once, my dad caught me and, thinking I was actually dating, gave me a warning: “Don’t get in too deep.” My indulgence toward Ethan made everyone think my feelings for him were quite extraordinary. It’s funny to say. It’s not that I hadn’t had moments where I thought that myself. Before I kicked my brother out of the country and sat in the CEO’s chair, I had never been in a relationship. Of course, I hadn’t wanted to be in one, either. Watching this unfold, I felt a bit bored, so I got up and left the coffee shop. As I was leaving, the bell on the door jingled. The person standing behind the counter seemed to look over. 03 That evening. Cole arrived at my villa. To my surprise. His physical exam report showed he was clean and perfectly healthy; not even a minor nodule. Unlike his previous outfit, which was covered in fake, massive logos, he dressed very simply this time. A white T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His previously heavily-gelled hair now hung loosely, slightly covering his eyes. Mr. Davis must have given him instructions to dress like Ethan. I frowned, but before I could say anything, the person in front of me pulled off his T-shirt. An eight-pack of abs, firm and defined. I couldn’t tell if they were real or not. He let out two goofy laughs: “Ma’am, do you not like me dressing like this?” “I don’t like it either.” Saying that, he walked over familiarly and touched my hand. I didn’t react in time. I instantly felt like I had been taken advantage of by a cheap street punk. Until he took the hair tie from my wrist. He gathered his somewhat long hair and tied it into a small bun at the back of his head. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I heard him say: “Ma’am, are you hungry? I can make you some noodles.” I almost choked on my sigh of relief. He watched the housekeeper come out of the kitchen, grab a trash bag, and leave, saying with a hint of regret, “Looks like you already ate.” I understood the implication, hesitated for a moment, and asked him: “Have you not eaten? Do you want some…” Before I could finish, he said, “Thank you.” He even found an excuse for himself: “I need to eat enough so I have the energy to serve you later, ma’am.” Me: “…” Then he made himself three bowls of noodles and inhaled them like he was starving. I recalled the information in his file; he shouldn’t be so poor he couldn’t afford to eat. I said: “There’s still steak in the fridge.” Cole shook his head and said: “No need for steak. I have to work first before I can get paid.” I understood. For a moment, I actually felt a bit gratified, once again confirming my decision. I really should find someone like this whose sole focus is securing his meal ticket. Half an hour later. I regretted it. The clean scent of body wash enveloped me. The initial trace of unfamiliarity was replaced by intense heat, quickly making me unable to think about anything else. Cole didn’t forget to provide emotional value. “Ma’am, you’re so beautiful. I really hit the jackpot.” “Ma’am, this feels amazing.” I felt like I was degrading myself. Like I had hired a farmhand in a rural village. This feeling lasted until noon the next day. I asked in despair, “Did you take something?” “What?” Cole froze for a moment. “Yeah, I took ten pills, just to make sure you were satisfied, ma’am.” Bullshit. He didn’t take anything. He was just trying to show off his “service attitude,” trying to fool me! Finally. At two in the afternoon, I dragged myself up, clutching my lower back. I had a meeting I couldn’t miss, so I had to crawl to the office if I had to. While I was getting dressed, I heard Cole say: “Ma’am, can you get me into the entertainment industry?”

After I started dating Alexander Sterling, I overheard him talking to his identical twin brother, Caleb: “Alex, come on. Let me swap in for you and have a little fun with Elena. She’ll never know.” Alexander’s response was cold, indifferent: “I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” I pretended I hadn’t heard. I stayed. I kept playing the part of the devoted girlfriend to the “wrong” twin. But later, when Alexander saw the bruises on my neck—marks Caleb had left—he finally snapped. He grabbed his brother by the throat, his eyes burning with a terrifying madness: “Who the hell gave you permission to touch her?!” 01 Late at night, after I’d just stepped out of the shower, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Alexander. A pinned location for an ultra-exclusive, members-only club downtown. I gripped the phone, my knuckles turning white. Before I could even type a reply, a second message popped up: “Don’t make me wait, Elena.” I let out a shaky breath and typed back: “On my way.” I threw on my clothes as fast as I could. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I ran into my stepfather, Rick. He was leaning against the doorframe, his eyes glassy with that familiar, nauseating hunger. He blew a cloud of cigarette smoke into the cramped hallway. “Dressing up late at night? Where do you think you’re going, princess?” He stepped toward me. I could smell the stale beer on his breath. I retreated a few steps, creating distance. “Alexander is expecting me,” I said, my voice cold. At the mention of that name, Rick froze. The predatory smirk faltered. He knew Alexander Sterling wasn’t someone to mess with. I took the opportunity to bolt past him toward the front door. “You think you’re untouchable just because you found a billionaire’s son to hide behind?” Rick spat at my back. “Wait until he gets bored of you. I’ll still be here.” I looked back at him, my hand on the doorknob. “Are you willing to bet your life on that?” I slammed the door before he could respond. 02 The club was the kind of place where the furniture cost more than my college tuition. Everyone inside was draped in designer labels and old money. In my simple hoodie and jeans, I felt like a glitch in the system. A server led me toward a private VIP suite on the top floor. Before he could open the door, voices filtered through the mahogany. “Come on, Alex. I heard Elena is totally wrapped around your finger.” “Let me swap in. Let me play the boyfriend for a few nights.” Laughter erupted inside. “Damn, Caleb. You’re really trying to steal your brother’s girl?” “You don’t get it,” someone else chimed in. “That girl is pure. She makes him home-cooked meals, reminds him to take his vitamins… she’s that old-school devoted type. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that?” “Would Alex really let you?” “Are you kidding? They’ve shared everything since they were kids. It’s just another game to them.” Then, Alexander’s voice—deep, resonant, and utterly heartless—cut through the noise: “Fine. Consider it your welcome-home gift.” The room erupted in cheers. The server looked at me, his face a mask of professional awkwardness. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t cry. I smiled at the server, straightened my shoulders, and pushed the door open. I hadn’t approached Alexander Sterling for love. I had approached him for a shield. To ensure I wasn’t bullied at school and to keep my stepfather’s hands off me at home. When you’re drowning in a shark tank, you don’t care who throws you the rope. You just climb. 03 The golden boys in the room whistled as I walked in. They looked at me like I was a toy on a shelf. I kept a soft, gentle smile on my face as I walked toward the center of the lounge. Alexander and Caleb were sitting side-by-side. They had the same face—chiseled, pale, and dangerously handsome. To anyone else, they were identical. But I knew the difference. Alexander was a storm—heavy, oppressive, and dark. Caleb was a wildfire—reckless and sharp. “Elena. You’re here.” A hand reached out and pulled me down onto the sofa. I looked at the man holding me. It was Caleb. I knew, and yet I leaned into him. It didn’t matter which twin it was, as long as the Sterling name protected me until I finished my exams and escaped my hellhole of a home. “This is my brother, Caleb,” the man said, interlacing his fingers with mine. I saw the real Alexander flinch slightly at the introduction, but he quickly masked it with a nod. I looked at Caleb with adoring eyes. “Alex, honey, I bought some electrolytes for you on the way. You’ve been drinking too much. Why don’t you take one?” I had said this to the real Alexander many times. Caleb looked at the bottle in my hand, his lips curling into a smirk. “Sure, baby. Feed it to me.” In my peripheral vision, I saw Alexander. He had a cigarette between his fingers, but he wasn’t smoking. He was just staring at us. 04 As the night went on, someone suggested a game. “Kings. High card makes a rule.” Caleb and I both drew. “Looks like the couple wins,” a guy laughed. He was a friend of the brothers, clearly in on the swap. Caleb leaned in, his hand gripping my chin, pulling me in for a kiss. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the room. Alexander had kicked the coffee table. He stood up, looking down at us with eyes like cold steel. “I’m tired. We’re done here.” Caleb stopped an inch from my lips. His eyes darkened. After a long moment, he let go of me and stood up. “Right. I forgot you just got back, Caleb,” Alexander said, his voice dripping with irony. As we headed for the door, I reached out and zipped up Caleb’s jacket. “The wind is cold tonight. You just got over that fever, don’t get sick again.” I said it while Alexander was standing right behind his brother, watching me. I had spent three days at Alexander’s penthouse last week, nursing him through that fever, making him soup, and making sure he slept. “Elena. Let’s go home,” Caleb said, pulling me into a hug. As I turned to leave with Caleb, the real Alexander finally spoke: “Elena.” I stopped and looked back at him like he was a total stranger. “Who is it that you actually love?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. I lowered my eyes to hide the mockery in them, then looked up at Caleb. “I love Alexander. The man I love is Alexander Sterling.” I watched Caleb’s expression turn cold at my words, even though he had to keep playing the part. 05 Alexander thought I loved him. Everyone in his circle thought I was obsessed with him. They had no idea that my life was a carefully constructed lie designed specifically for him. I was a survivor. If cancer hadn’t taken my father when I was twelve, I would have been just another girl raised with love. My biological mother died when I was young, but my first stepmother—my dad’s second wife—had been kind. She made me cookies and told me stories. Then, on my 12th birthday, my dad collapsed. Stage four. A year later, he was gone. I remember him holding my hand in the hospital, wiping away my tears. “I’m sorry, Elena. I couldn’t give you your 13th birthday cake.” “Don’t be mad at me for leaving, okay?” I couldn’t speak. I just shook my head. I didn’t want cake. I wanted him. But the clock stopped. His last words were: “You have to live, Elena. Whatever it takes.” Then the clouds moved in. My stepmother lost everything in a bad investment. I became a burden. My relatives didn’t want me. Then she remarried. She married Rick. The day we moved into his house, Rick used a spare key to open my bedroom door while I was sleeping. I ran to tell my stepmother. She slapped me. “Don’t start rumors. He was just checking to see if you were cold. If you ruin this marriage, you’re on the street.” From then on, I pushed a desk against my door every night. I stood by the bed in the dark, holding a pair of scissors, watching the doorknob turn. Once. Twice. Three times. School became my only sanctuary. Until it became a different kind of hell. I was a straight-A student. After one midterm where I topped the class, I was dragged into the girl’s locker room and had a bucket of ice water poured over me. The ringleader was Tiffany Mills. “Elena, because of you, I got a B. Do you know how much my dad hit me for that?” Tiffany gripped my chin, looking at me like I was a cockroach. Her friends stood around, counting the seconds between each slap they gave me. When I told the principal, he just said: “Tiffany is a star student from a wealthy family. She wouldn’t do that. You girls need to learn to get along.” As I left the office, I saw a group of boys walking down the hall. Everyone stepped aside for them. The leader was Alexander Sterling. 06 I started observing him. Collecting data. I waited outside a bar he frequented until I saw him come out alone, looking drunk and miserable. I walked up to him, making sure he could see my school ID. I handed him a pack of mints. “You look like you’re hurting. These help with the nausea. Want one?” Alexander looked up, his dark eyes intense. When he didn’t answer, I took his hand and placed the mints in his palm. “Don’t worry. They’re sweet.” He looked me up and down. “In a school uniform at a bar?” I blushed. “I… I was worried about you.” He leaned back and smirked. “Are you stalking me?” I nodded sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to be alone while you were drunk.” “You like me?” I bit my lip and nodded again. “Yes. I’ll be good to you, Alexander.” He paused, then reached out and flicked my ID card. “Elena Vance. Class 3.” “I’ll give you a chance,” he said dismissively. Before I could react, he kissed me. It was hard, almost desperate. When he let go, he said, “Remember to breathe next time. Go home. Don’t come back here.” As soon as he turned away, the shyness vanished from my face. I wiped my mouth. The plan was in motion. 07 The next time Tiffany Mills tried to corner me, Alexander showed up. The door to the storage room was kicked open. Alexander stood there with his security team, his expression freezing. That was the first time I saw Tiffany Mills lose her cool. She was forced to her knees and slapped repeatedly by his staff. “Tiffany, if you’re going to hit a dog, you have to check who the owner is first.” Alexander pulled me into his arms, looking down at Tiffany with pure disdain. A dog. That’s all I was to him. A loyal, obedient pet. When he dropped me off at home that day, we ran into Rick. When Rick saw me getting out of a luxury car, he grabbed my hair. “You little slut! Acting all pure and innocent with me, and you’re out here turning tricks!” Before he could finish, a bodyguard crushed Rick’s wrist. Rick was kicked to the ground and beaten until he couldn’t scream. He spent a month in the hospital. I calculated the time I had left until graduation. I played the part of the doting girlfriend perfectly. I ignored his flings and his coldness. I didn’t need his love. I needed his shadow. I became the girl who stayed the longest. People whispered that Alexander actually had feelings for me. Until tonight. Tonight, they realized he didn’t have feelings at all. I was just a toy he could hand over to his brother. But I didn’t care. Because very soon, I was going to leave them all behind. 08 “Elena, you’ve been daydreaming this whole drive.” Caleb’s voice snapped me back to reality. We were in front of a luxury apartment. I put on a confused face. “Alex? Did you move?” Caleb seemed annoyed by the name. He gripped my hand harder. “Yeah. I have a lot of places.” Inside, he pinned me against the sofa. “What were you thinking about?” “I was thinking about what kind of soup to make for your stomach,” I said softly. Caleb’s eyes softened. “Good girl.” He kissed my wrist, then looked at me, his voice husky. “Elena. Who am I?” “You’re Alexander.” He bit my wrist. Hard. “Ow! Why did you do that?” I faked the pain. “Who am I?” “Alexander,” I whispered, biting my lip. He bit my neck this time, like a predator marking its kill. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. The doorbell rang incessantly. Caleb cursed and went to open it. “What are you doing here?” Alexander pushed past Caleb and walked straight to me. “The game is over,” Alexander said, standing over me. “That’s no fun,” Caleb smirked. Alexander didn’t waste time. He pulled me up from the sofa. The bite mark on my neck was staring him in the face. His expression went dead. It was the silence before a hurricane. Bang! Alexander slammed Caleb against the wall, his hand around his brother’s throat. “You’ve been away too long. You forgot the rules?” “Who the hell gave you permission to touch her?!” 09 Alexander was out of control. This was a side of him I’d never seen. Caleb seemed surprised too. He choked out a laugh. “Why so sensitive, bro? You’re the one who sent her to me. Don’t act like the good guy now.” Alexander’s veins were bulging in his arms. After a few seconds, he let go. Caleb rubbed his neck and waved at me. “Hey, Elena. Let’s re-introduce ourselves. I’m Caleb.” He wasn’t embarrassed. He just laughed. Alexander stepped in front of me, blocking my view of his brother. I couldn’t read his eyes, but I knew exactly what emotion I needed to show. I looked at Alexander, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t yell. I just whispered: “Did I do something wrong? Do you not want me anymore?” I saw his Adam’s apple bob. Then, he pulled me into a warm, tight hug. “I’m taking you home.” His voice was low and surprisingly gentle. Behind his shoulder, I saw Caleb’s smile fade. His dark eyes were unreadable as he watched us. “The game is over,” Alexander said as he led me out. “Stay away from her.” Caleb leaned against a table, hands in his pockets. “I can’t promise that, Alex. You know we used to share everything. You never cared before.” “Shut your mouth,” Alexander warned. Caleb just snapped his fingers at me. “Remember the name, Elena. Don’t call me by his name next time.”

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I was in a serious long-distance relationship with a guy I met online. Finally, we decided it was time to meet up in person. But when I arrived at the restaurant, the guy holding the rose bouquet at our designated table was my older brother! Well, my stepbrother, to be exact. In that split second, my entire world shattered. Before he could spot me, I crouched behind a decorative planter, pulled out my phone, and sent him a text with shaking hands: 【I don’t think this is going to work. We should break up.】 As the heir to a massive real estate empire, he had never been dumped before. Certainly not during his very first attempt at romance. He completely fell apart. For days, he just stayed in his room, totally devastated. I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I walked into his room and snapped at him, “Look, it’s just a breakup. Could you please pull yourself together?!” During our argument, his thumb accidentally hit the call button on his chatting app. The next second, the ringtone inside my pocket blast through the room, deafeningly loud. My brother slowly lifted his head. “…What?” Me: “…” Silence was the only thing left in that room. 1 I’d been seeing this guy online using a burner account for a while now. From what I could tell, he was sweet, loaded, and fit—basically the perfect golden retriever boyfriend type. The only mystery left was what he actually looked like. Other than that, he hit every single one of my specific preferences perfectly. We had finally agreed to meet up tomorrow. I was incredibly nervous about this first date. I’d been standing in front of my closet for over half an hour, trying to decide on an outfit, still completely lost. Ding-ding! My phone went off. It was him. BugsBunny: 【Bunny baby~ Tomorrow is finally the big day! I’m so excited!】 My screen name was Miss Bunny, so he decided to call himself Bugs Bunny. I giggled, grabbing my phone and flopping onto the bed. He sent three more messages in rapid succession: 【I am unfathomably excited to see you!!!】 【Are you excited? Are you?】 【Baby, you definitely want to see me right now too, don’t you?】 I could practically feel his hyperactive energy radiating through the screen. Of course, I was excited. This was my first real relationship, and since we’d been talking online for over a year, I had real feelings for him. But seeing how cute he was being, I got a sudden wicked urge to tease him a bit, just to see how he’d react. Miss Bunny: 【Hmm~ Actually, I’m not that excited.】 After I sent that, the other side went silent for a long time. I had no idea what he was doing. Could I have actually upset him?! I hurriedly opened the text box, ready to explain that I was joking. Ding-ding! Suddenly, he sent a photo. It was a shirtless photo of his abs, from the neck down. He was leaning back on a dark leather couch, his discarded black dress shirt thrown carelessly over one corner, revealing smooth, defined muscles. The most eye-catching part was his perfect six-pack. He looked seriously in shape. I stared at the screen, my heart doing backflips in my chest. He sent a casual follow-up message: 【Baby, how about now? Are you excited to see me yet?】 He was smart, I’ll give him that. He knew exactly what worked on me. Miss Bunny: 【EXCITED!!! Just wait until I see you. I’m going to kiss you to death.】 2 I was sitting there grinning at the photo like an idiot when my mom suddenly called me. She said she had made late-night snacks and told my brother and me to come down to the dining room. I have a brother, though we aren’t related by blood. He’s three years older than me, named Elias Walker. Four years ago, my mom married his dad, merging our families, and I moved into the Walker estate with her. Elias’s father is a finance mogul in the city, insanely wealthy, but surprisingly down-to-earth and affectionate with his family. He loves my mom very much and has always treated me like his own daughter. Elias, as the heir to the family business, usually manages Walker Group affairs overseas, so I rarely saw him. The few times we did meet, we were just politely cordial to each other, maintaining a slight, distant reserve. A few days ago, he suddenly returned to the States, saying he came back to meet someone very important. During this time at home, he was staying at the mansion. Both Elias’s father and my mom were thrilled about him being home. Especially my mom. She spent all day in the kitchen trying out new recipes, practically force-feeding Elias, insisting that since he was rarely home, he needed to feel the warmth of the family. I knocked on Elias’s door. “Hey, are you asleep?” I asked politely. Through the door, a cool, deep voice came from inside the room: “Not yet. Is something wrong, Chloe?” “Mom told me to come get you for some late-night food she made.” “Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” After that brief, overly formal exchange, I was ready to walk away when I suddenly heard rustling sounds coming from inside his room. It sounded like he was… putting clothes on? Meaning he wasn’t wearing any just now! Well, I guess when your body is that fit, you don’t really worry about the cold. 3 By the time Elias came down, I had already finished two bowls of Mom’s chicken soup and let out a small burp. I have to say, Mom’s cooking is seriously good. When I stretched my greedy hand toward the pot of chicken soup again, Mom was too quick. She smacked the back of my hand instantly. “Chloe, how much have you eaten already? Your brother hasn’t had any yet.” Elias was wearing a black dress shirt, looking tall and lean, with a formidable presence. He sat down opposite me and spoke with polite deferral. “If Chloe likes it, let her have more.” Seeing how agreeable he was, Mom’s maternal instincts immediately went into overdrive, and she started piling massive scoops into his bowl. Elias stared at the chicken overflowing in his bowl, unsure of where to even start. I shot him a meaningful look with my eyes: 【Bro, if you can’t finish that, I’ll gladly take some.】 He completely ignored me. Hmph. I knew that polite deferral was just for show. Elias’s father looked at him, slightly curious and a bit gossipy. “Elias, I heard you came back this time to see… someone important?” Hearing that, Elias suddenly stopped sipping his soup. I don’t know who he was thinking of, but his face went instantly red. He managed a low, “Yeah.” Then he buried his head in his bowl and drank the soup furiously, attempting to use the huge bowl to hide his rapidly reddening face, not realizing it was a completely futile gesture. Because even his neck was bright red. Elias was… blushing?! Oh my god. My jaw practically dropped into my soup. Even though I hadn’t spent much time with Elias over the years, I knew he was a very cold, composed person. Probably because he took over the company at such a young age, he had been through the wars of corporate politics, so he was much more calm and collected than most people his age. He always seemed completely unflappable. So, forget blushing—I’d almost never seen him show any strong emotion at all. But! Right now! He was actually blushing over this “important person”? My intuition was shouting at me: I’m about to get a sister-in-law! 4 Seeing Elias’s reaction, Mom and his father exchanged a knowing smile. “Well, looks like you’ve got a situation going on!” Elias didn’t respond, just kept drinking his soup with his head down, his face redder than a fire engine. Mom and Elias’s father had been worried that Elias was going to end up alone. Even though he was gorgeous, well-educated, and basically the definition of “highly eligible,” he had one problem: his personality was too cold. Growing up, women had always tried to get close to him, but he always maintained a polite, icy distance. They were worried his personality would either drive women away or that he just wasn’t interested. Who would have thought he had quietly gotten into a relationship on his own! Seeing that everyone was focused on Elias, I made my move on the chicken leg. “Congratulations, Bro,” I teased, aiming the chopsticks at the pot. “When are you bringing my future sister-in-law home for dinner?” While talking, I very naturally and casually grabbed that massive chicken leg I’d been eyeballing and dropped it into my bowl. I had just taken a massive bite out of the chicken leg. Mom: “Eat, eat, eat, all you do is eat. Why can’t you be like your brother? When are you going to bring home a nice guy for me to meet?” I didn’t answer. My jaw kept working, but in my head, I was thinking: 【How do you know I haven’t already?】 Since we hadn’t met in person yet and the relationship wasn’t stable, I hadn’t mentioned it. But hmph. Once we meet, I’m bringing him straight home to give you a massive surprise! 5 Today was finally the big day: meeting my online boyfriend in person. I was sitting in my car and took a photo of the massive rose bouquet I had bought, sending it to him. 【I’m almost there! Look, I even got you your favorite flower!】 The photo didn’t show my face. According to our agreement, we wouldn’t show our faces until we met, to keep the surprise. The shot only showed a bit of my pink dress and the beautiful, lush bouquet. Almost immediately, he replied: 【Baby looks so beautiful! You’re practically an angel! 【I love roses the most! Thank you, Baby! Kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss-kiss! 【I’m already at the place, waiting for you!!!】 He had picked the location. The Ritz-Carlton. The most luxurious spot in the city. A single meal could easily be six figures. It was the top choice for high-society galas. I followed the signs up to the fiftieth floor. He had reserved the entire rooftop lounge. By the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, a man was sitting quietly on a couch. He was wearing a cream-colored suit, tall, looking incredibly elegant. The sunlight poured through the glass, enveloping him in a warm, distant halo. His back view alone was enough to make my breath catch. Even just seeing his back, I knew he was a stunning man. I held my bouquet, standing just around the corner of the entryway, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst. Taking a deep breath, I was just about to walk over to him when he happened to turn around. I was suddenly staring directly at his face. A face that was identical to Elias Walker’s. !!! It felt like I had seen a ghost. I instantly pulled my head back behind the corner. Oh my god. My online boyfriend is my stepbrother! Is my life a terrible soap opera?! I could never have imagined that the romantic, clingy, sweet-talking guy on my phone and the cold, distant, hyper-professional Elias Walker were the same person. Then I remembered what he said about coming back to the States to meet a very important person. At the time, I was thinking, I’m about to get a sister-in-law. Now I see… I’m the sister-in-law?! My mind completely crashed. This whole situation was too insane. I didn’t know how to even begin processing it. Just then, the phone in my pocket vibrated with a text he had just sent: 【Baby, is that you? I thought I heard a noise by the entryway.】 6 I stared at the messages on my phone, my feelings a chaotic mess. After a long moment, my hands shaking, I typed out a single sentence: 【I don’t think this is going to work. We should break up.】 The instant I sent the message, Elias, who had been sitting on the couch anxiously waiting, suddenly stood up. He was staring at the breakup text on his phone with a look of pure shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he was reading. After standing there stunned for a long time, he started frantically tapping on the screen, sending a flurry of messages: 【Are you kidding, Baby? 【I really don’t think that’s a funny joke. Let’s not say things like that, okay? 【Baby, reply to me. Why aren’t you talking?】 My mind was completely blank. This whole thing was way too messy, and I truly didn’t know what to say. Seeing no reply from me, Elias was on the verge of a breakdown. His hands were shaking so much he could barely type: 【You’re really doing this? 【Did I do something wrong to upset you? Tell me, I’ll fix it immediately. Just please don’t do this. Okay? 【I don’t want to break up. 【I don’t care what you say, I don’t agree to this. 【Where are you right now?】 I watched the chat window overflow with messages, completely lost. I decided I had to get out of there first. If Elias saw me, there would be no way to explain this. I began to tiptoe away, ready to leave. But just at that moment, the phone in my pocket started blasting my ringtone. It scared the absolute life out of me. It was Elias.

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Because he was “poor,” Liam constantly brought up marriage. Until the day I saw him casually open a bottle of wine that cost more than my entire year’s salary. It turned out the real Liam Vance was a billionaire heir, living a life of unimaginable luxury and excess. His friends asked him, “Aren’t you tired of playing the broke boyfriend for five years? When are you going to pull the plug?” Liam lazily lifted his eyelids: “Probably on the day of my engagement.” I didn’t throw a hysterical fit. I just waited until the day of his engagement party, when my flight carried me across the ocean. Later, I heard that the untouchable young master of the Vance family had suddenly backed out on the day of his engagement. He drove like a madman to a rundown rental apartment. When he saw the empty apartment, he completely lost his mind. 01 While scrolling through Instagram, my eyes were drawn to a specific photo. My gaze skipped past the glamorous group of people in the foreground and landed on a young man standing behind them. He was leaning lazily against a sofa, looking down and messing with his phone. One hand rested on the back of the sofa, partially obscuring his face, but his straight nose and deep-set eyes were clearly visible. After some hesitation, I opened the photo album on my phone, found a picture of Liam, and compared the two back and forth several times. Then, I opened a chat window with Chloe Davis, an old college classmate who I only occasionally interacted with by liking her posts. [Hi, can I ask if this guy is a friend of yours?] I circled the man in the photo and sent it to her. For some reason, Chloe seemed to have intentionally applied a slight blur effect to that specific area of the photo. Surprisingly, Chloe replied very quickly. [Why are you asking about him? Stay away from him.] I replied: [Nothing, I just thought he looked a bit like my boyfriend.] They looked too similar. I was so incredibly familiar with Liam; I could trace the exact curve of his brow when he frowned from memory. Soon after, Chloe fired back a barrage of messages. [Are you daydreaming in broad daylight, Maya? My husband can barely even get a word in with him. Your boyfriend, who barely makes a few grand a month, has absolutely no connection to him. [What, have you finally woken up and decided to dump that boyfriend of yours who has nothing going for him?] I cut off her sarcastic remarks and sent a simple “thank you” sticker of a bowing cartoon bear: [I was just asking. Never mind.] Chloe had always been competitive. Ever since she lost to my makeup-free photo in an unofficial campus beauty pageant during our freshman year, she had tried to one-up me in everything. Later, she married the son of a publicly traded company’s CEO, while I was dead set on dating Liam, a struggling, broke young man. Only then did she finally condescend to grant me access to view her Instagram stories, just so I could admire her fabulous life. Switching over to my chat with Liam, I asked: [Are you coming home soon?] The contact pinned at the top, “Liam Baby,” replied quickly. He sent a photo of a conference table in an office, along with a sticker of a little cat tilting its head and wiping away tears. [Still working overtime. Go to sleep early, don’t wait up for me.] [Working hard, love you~] I sent back a hug and two kiss emojis, then peacefully put my phone in my pocket. This was it. This was my, Maya’s, boyfriend. A corporate drone who opened his eyes every day just to grind for a measly salary. How could he possibly have anything to do with the people in Chloe’s circle? 02 When I got home, a message popped up instructing me to deliver a document to the Apex Club. I turned around, opened the company’s expense app, and hailed a ride, used to this kind of routine. The nights of adults rarely belong solely to themselves. Besides the time dedicated to love, the vast majority of it is occupied by unpleasant work. Stepping out of the car into the biting wind, I looked around. I had heard rumors about the Apex Club; the people who came and went here were all extraordinarily powerful. My boss was probably riding the coattails of some higher-up to even set foot in this private, courtyard-style club hidden deep within the city. Pushing open the heavy oak doors, men in sharp suits stood on either side. After I stated my business, they respectfully guided me into the inner courtyard. As expected, after delivering the document, I put on a fake smile and respectfully toasted everyone at the table. Most of the time, I didn’t need to personally run errands to deliver documents. But for business dinners like this, they always needed an attractive woman as decoration. “Mr. Wu, this is Maya from our tech department. I had her come over to explain things to you. She’s a total pro!” When a slightly chubby hand brushed against the back of mine, I lowered my wine glass and subtly dodged it. Often, I couldn’t firmly refuse, even if it meant enduring certain lingering stares. After a few drinks, I made an excuse to step outside for some fresh air. Turning a corner in the corridor, a door was left slightly ajar. The brass door handle gleamed with a cold, hard light, and the intricate carvings on the doorframe flickered in the night light. I glanced casually, my gaze about to sweep past, when a voice suddenly drifted from inside the room. “I’m dying laughing. Are you telling me Maya thinks Liam is broke, and that’s why she won’t marry him? “Gotta say, that girl has a good head on her shoulders. “I asked around at the bank. I heard her total savings amount to exactly $195,460. She withdrew every last penny to put a down payment on a place, saying it was for their marital home. “Two hundred grand? Can you even buy a decent bathroom with that?” My footsteps halted. I took a few steps closer in disbelief and listened closely. “But seriously, what kind of rags are you wearing? We’re all hanging out, and you’re still not done with this ‘broke guy’ cosplay?” I remembered the clothes Liam was wearing this morning. His jacket was a new down coat that cost over two hundred dollars. His pants were some cheap Amazon find for thirty or fifty bucks. And on his feet were the Balenciaga 3XL sneakers I had asked several personal shoppers to finally track down. I looked down at myself. My entire outfit, from head to toe, cost less than two hundred dollars. Thinking I might have misheard, I squeezed my palms, pulling out my phone to make a call. Right then, I saw a person inside the room lean forward, reaching out to casually grab a bottle of wine from the table. This movement completely revealed his profile, as well as the clothes he was wearing. I unconsciously gripped the hem of my shirt tighter, my knuckles turning white from the force. My eyes were locked onto the scene unfolding before me. In that instant, I wanted to speak, but it was as if the freezing wind had paralyzed my throat. I couldn’t make a sound. Liam shot a glance at the man who had just spoken. “I have my own timeline. Mind your own business.” “Ha, you’re hilarious. What kind of timeline takes five years? Didn’t you say it was just a meaningless fling at first? Don’t tell me you actually fell for Cinderella?” The hand Liam was using to light a cigarette paused slightly. After a long moment, he let out a scoff. “What are you talking about?” “Even if you do have feelings for her, can you really marry her? My advice? Cut it off clean and get out now. Don’t waste the girl’s time. Let her go find a good guy to settle down with.” “Jason—” Liam exhaled a puff of smoke, looking at him lazily. “You talk too much.” “Heh,” Jason gave him a half-smile. “I might talk too much, but if you ever dare make me download some stupid discount app at 2 AM to ‘help you get a deal’ for your Cinderella again, I’ll kill you myself.” At that moment, a young man wearing glasses raised his hand politely. “I think those discount apps are great. I maxed out my ‘Billionaire’ badge on it~” No one paid him any attention. Jason continued his interrogation: “When do you plan on coming clean to her?” Liam paused. “Probably on the day of my engagement.” “Is it definitely the Sterling family?” “Mhm.” “How are you going to tell her? This whole thing is pretty messed up.” “Just don’t tell her. Let ‘Liam’ simply vanish.” “That works too. Just don’t let there be any accidents. A girl like Maya will probably never cross paths with anyone in our circle for the rest of her life anyway. “When the time comes, give her a sum of money. She’s been with you for five years, at least treat her right.” These words were like a wrecking ball from another world, violently smashing into my brain. I looked at Liam, desperately hoping he would speak up at that moment, say something, anything different. She’s not like that. Maya is not like that. She is your legitimate, official girlfriend of five years. But he didn’t. He didn’t argue; he didn’t say another word. I stood rooted near the doorway, feeling as if the freezing wind had penetrated my very bones, swelling my skin until it ached. I even wanted to see through the swirling cigarette smoke, to clearly see his unreadable expression. The bare branches of the crabapple tree were heavy with winter snow, bent over, unable to straighten up no matter how hard they tried. 03 I pulled out the condo purchase contract I had been keeping in my bag. Tears smashed onto the paper one by one. I hurriedly wiped them away with my hand, afraid of ruining the document. I had always believed that Liam was afraid to bring up marriage because he was broke and terrified he wouldn’t get past my parents. He had heard perfectly clearly when my mom called me that day. “You say he has no parents, fine. But his education is lower than yours, his salary is lower than yours, he has no house, no car. What exactly do you see in him? Just his face? “With your qualifications, what kind of guy couldn’t you find? “Come home. Mom has so many successful young men to introduce you to. Any one of them is better than him.” I had covered the phone receiver. “Mom, he’s leading a new project right now. He’ll get a raise next month. Besides, he’s ambitious and treats me well. I just like him. “As for buying a house, the money we’ve saved together these past few years is enough for a down payment. Our combined 401ks and salaries will cover the mortgage. Things are only going to get better…” That day, after hanging up the phone, I squatted by the bed, pulled out all my bank cards, spread them out on the mattress, and looked up at him. “Let’s get married. I have the money. I’ll take care of you from now on.” Liam looked slightly stunned. An emotion I couldn’t read flashed through his eyes, but all he said was, “Wait just a little longer.” At the time, I thought he wanted me to wait until he achieved more success, until he could afford to give me a proper wedding. But I hadn’t understood that look in his eyes. Looking back now, it was probably a look of amusement. Amusement at my naive gullibility, at my burning passion that he found utterly worthless. For days, I had been racking my brain trying to figure out a natural, perfect way to surprise him. But I never imagined that while I was picturing a future filled with warmth and love for us, he was calculating how to extract himself from this deceptive game. It was too ridiculous. I laughed until I couldn’t stop the tears. It took an immense amount of self-control to stop myself from pushing that door open. I took step after step backward. The weight of this truth made it hard to breathe. I looked down and pressed the call button. Looking up, Liam raised his hand, and everyone in the room instantly went silent. I spoke, keeping my voice perfectly normal. “Are you still at work?” Liam’s lazy voice came through the receiver. “Yeah, probably another hour or two. Why aren’t you asleep yet?” I wiped away my tears. “I took a bad fall. I’m at the hospital…” In my peripheral vision, I saw Liam sit up slightly. “Which hospital?” He gestured to the person next to him to hand him his coat. Liam hung up the phone and stubbed out his cigarette. His friend asked, “Where are you going? You just sat down.” “Girlfriend’s in the hospital. Gotta go.” “Since when does she count as your girlfriend…” Before he could finish his sentence, Liam, leaning against the doorframe, turned his head and shot him a chilling glance. That single glance, completely devoid of emotion, was as freezing as a deep winter pool. It silenced the speaker instantly, filling him with a sense of dread. 04 I didn’t go to the hospital; I took a cab straight home. The apartment Liam and I rented was a modest one-bedroom. Right by the entrance was a bookshelf lined with books. Those were the books left over from when I forced Liam to take night classes to get his bachelor’s degree. My mom was right; when I met him, his education was lower than mine. He told me he only had an associate’s degree. We were both young then. I just thought he was smart and had his whole life ahead of him. If he worked hard, he wouldn’t be stuck at that level forever. Even if he ended up raising pigs, a guy with a bachelor’s degree would get paid five hundred bucks more. Back then, I worked my day job and stayed up late into the night helping him study and do practice tests. Even when we were brushing our teeth together in the morning, I made sure to use every spare second to open an English app on my phone to review the vocabulary we had learned the day before. For ten years’ worth of past exams, Liam did them once, and I reviewed them with him once. Because we were short on time, it only took us a month and a half to pass the exams. To celebrate, we even scoured every coupon app before going out for hot pot. But now, looking through the information Chloe had asked around for, I only felt a profound sense of absurdity. [Liam who? I’ve never heard of that name, but I can’t tell you his real name either.] [You’re asking about his education? I heard he went to Columbia for undergrad, and then to Harvard for his Master’s. He’s incredibly young.] I leaned heavily against the sofa, pressing my palm hard against my forehead, my stomach cramping with sharp pain. The door was opened from the outside. I looked up to see Liam, looking slightly disheveled, having rushed back from a fruitless trip to the hospital. There were countless missed calls from him on my phone. He leaned against the doorframe, panting slightly. I watched him approach in silence. He lifted my hands, cupping my face and examining it closely. Only then did his tense expression finally relax. “Where did you fall?” Knowing he had been played, he wasn’t angry. He just played with my fingers and smiled. “I’ll put some ointment on it for you. Otherwise, if we wait any longer, the wound might heal on its own.” In that moment, perhaps because I was acting too brave and quiet, he had no idea the agony I was enduring. I studied him seriously. He always seemed this composed, as if he had never lost his cool over a difficult problem. I used to think that an early life of hardship and poverty had forged his calm disposition, giving him the fortitude to remain unfazed even if a mountain collapsed in front of him. But I never considered that this kind of relaxed demeanor was more likely nurtured by extreme wealth and power. I pulled my hand away, staring straight ahead. “Liam, my mom is pressuring me to go home for blind dates.” The movement of Liam’s hands paused. Before the smile could completely fade, it froze on his handsome face. “But—” I turned my head, smiling through tears, my eyes filled with the usual affection. “I told her, I only want to marry Liam. I’m waiting for him to marry me.” I just looked at him like that. I hadn’t planned on crying, but I didn’t know why my tears refused to obey my command. “I said, we bought a little house, and once we’re married, we can move in. Then we’ll have a kid, and you two can help us take care of it. A boy or a girl would be great. A girl would look like you, with big eyes, and a boy would be like me, with fair skin.” I looked down, pulling the contract from my bag. “Look, when I bought the condo, I put your name on it too.” Look, Liam. How are you ever going to repay me for these five years of foolish youth and genuine devotion? Not stepping foot at the summit of your world, every extra step I took toward you was superfluous. Are you secretly mocking me in your heart? The everything I offered was just something you could dismiss with a wave of your hand in your world of luxury. Liam’s fingers twitched. He looked down to flip through the contract. It was a long time before he looked up. “Maya, I…” “What’s wrong?” I acted casual. “Is it a super huge surprise? Anyway, now you don’t have to be afraid of my mom scolding you anymore.” The look of panic that had appeared when I cried vanished from Liam’s face. He reverted to his usual cynical, carefree attitude. “Yeah, our Maya is so capable. You said you’d support me, and you’re supporting me.” His voice was too soft, his tone too light, so much so that I almost missed his next words: “Don’t cry. What are you crying for? I never said we weren’t getting married…” But Liam, with what identity are you going to marry me? I leaned against the table, looking down as I dialed a number. While waiting for the call to connect, I quietly watched Liam bustling around the kitchen. Compared to me, he was actually the better cook. When the call connected, I said softly, “I’ve made up my mind. I can go to the States.” “The date?” I was in a daze. When I met Liam’s gaze, I was instantly jolted awake. “January 28th. Yes, that exact day.” That was the day of Liam’s engagement.

My online boyfriend and I agreed to finally swap photos. I thought he was catfishing me when he sent a high-res, professional press photo of Manhattan’s most famous, untouchable billionaire heir. I laughed out of sheer annoyance. I shot back a photo of an obscure A-list actress from an indie fashion magazine. [Dumbass. If you’re going to use fake pics from the internet, at least pick something niche, okay?] Then, I immediately blocked and deleted him. That very night, the billionaire heir himself made a high-profile post on X (formerly Twitter) looking for someone. [My girlfriend blocked me. Can anyone help me explain things to her?] Attached was a screenshot of my text message, complete with the dreaded red exclamation mark indicating he had been blocked. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. 01 After breakfast, I spent an hour meticulously putting on a full face of makeup. I sat by the window, waiting for the exact moment the natural lighting was perfect. Because today was the day my online boyfriend and I had agreed to do a face reveal. [Baby, are you ready?] His message popped up. I quickly replied: [I’m a little nervous, baby.] Even though we clicked perfectly and our values aligned, I had never told him that I was actually an actress. Although I was mostly known for playing “love-to-hate” mean girl roles, I still had a decent amount of fame. Worried he wouldn’t believe a photo, I planned to just FaceTime him in a bit. I wondered how he would react. He replied almost instantly. [I’m nervous too. I’m scared you’ll think I’m ugly.] [Baby, I really tried my best to pick a picture where I look good.] [Are you going to be disappointed in me, baby?] My online boyfriend had expressed insecurities about his looks more than once. But having seen way too many plastic, picture-perfect faces in Hollywood, I honestly didn’t care about outward appearances. [Of course not! As long as you aren’t using a fake photo to trick me, I’ll love you no matter what you look like.] [That’s good. Kisses for my baby QAQ.] [Kisses.] He was very clingy, and I didn’t mind pampering him. He went quiet for a minute, seemingly hyping himself up. A few minutes later, he sent an image. It was a man in an impeccably tailored suit, surrounded by a swarm of microphones. His gaze was sharp, his aura screaming absolute power. I recognized him instantly. It was the infamous heir to the Vance empire, Sterling Vance. Because his looks rivaled top-tier supermodels, every press photo of him went viral. And this particular shot was his most famous one. My online boyfriend sent another message. [Baby, this is me. What do you think?] [Nervously twiddling fingers.jpg] I froze. I had always thought my online boyfriend was grounded, highly educated, and on the same wavelength as me. I really liked him. But what did he mean by sending someone else’s press photo? A billionaire heir with a net worth in the eleven digits doing long-distance online dating? Was I sleepwalking, or was he? And I specifically told him not to use fake photos! Did he think I was some gullible idiot who had never used the internet? I absolutely loathe being lied to. A ball of fire instantly ignited in my chest. I quickly found an obscure, artistic photoshoot of myself and fired it back at him. [Dumbass. If you’re going to use fake pics from the internet, at least pick something niche, okay?] Without waiting for his reply, I blocked his number at the speed of light. 02 I met my online boyfriend while playing Valorant. I logged into the game and deleted my highest-affinity friend, making sure he had absolutely no way to contact me ever again. Then, I tossed my phone onto the couch, spent an hour scrubbing off my makeup, and curled up alone to sulk. All those photos of his abs and V-lines he used to send me… they must have been stolen from some random fitness influencer’s Instagram. And to think I had genuinely admired and complimented his physique! Dead liar! Fuming, I buried my head under the covers and went to sleep. That evening, I was woken up by my manager, Jess. Her voice sounded strange. “Harper, have you seen the trending topics on X?” “What is it?” I forced my eyes open and tapped into the app. Only then did I realize a massive hashtag had exploded while I was asleep. #BillionaireHeirOnlineDating My heart did a somersault. I was instantly wide awake. This topic… it couldn’t be what I thought it was, right? Cautiously, I clicked the hashtag. Sterling Vance, who hadn’t logged into his social media for centuries, had posted a tweet not too long ago. [My girlfriend blocked me. Can anyone help me explain things to her?] The attached photo looked more and more familiar the longer I stared. Wasn’t this my final chat log with my online boyfriend?! The only difference was, on his end, there were several unsent messages marked with bright red exclamation points. [Huh?] [It’s not a fake picture, baby. It’s really me.] [Baby?] [Why did you delete me? Can you at least listen to my explanation?] [Baby… #crying#] The internet was losing its collective mind. [WHAT?! Sterling Vance online dates?!] [I’m dying to know who the girlfriend is! Did she save the galaxy in her past life to match with Sterling Vance online?!] [But she thought he was a catfish! LMAO!] [Honestly, if it were me, I would’ve thought it was a fake pic too. Hahahaha!] [But it looks like Mr. Vance is genuinely asking for help to find her. Does anyone know this girl?] [If anyone knows her, tell her to reply! You’ve got the CEO of Vance Corp stress-tweeting!] … I scrolled through the comments, my pupils practically vibrating. So… my online boyfriend actually didn’t use a fake photo? He really was Sterling Vance?! While I was still reeling from the shock, a brand-new trending topic suddenly materialized. #ShippingSerenaAndTheBillionaire I gasped. Did the internet sleuths work that fast? Was I already doxxed? Nervously, I clicked on the hashtag. It was a new post from the currently trending “It Girl” actress, Serena Thorne. [No need for anyone to help explain! I know it was just a misunderstanding~] The implication was so strong she might as well have quote-tweeted Sterling Vance directly. Netizens were celebrating the new “power couple.” [The internet remains undefeated! Found her in minutes!] [So the online girlfriend is Serena?! WOOOW! An A-list actress and a billionaire heir? What a god-tier romance!] [Serena is too cute. She’s a famous actress doing online dating, yet she didn’t believe the billionaire was doing the same! Hahaha.] [Help, they are so perfect for each other. Serena is about to be a billionaire’s wife!] 03 Jess’s voice came through the phone again. “Do you see it now? “I was planning to put you on that lifestyle cooking show to win back some public favor, but now that Serena’s online romance with Sterling Vance just dropped, all the buzz for tomorrow’s live broadcast is going to be about her. You’re going to completely fade into the background!” I froze. Because I was a surprisingly good cook, Jess and I had specifically chosen a slow-paced, cozy reality show to salvage my somewhat rocky reputation. And the show was going live tomorrow. Now, with all the hype going to Serena, I’d just be an extra in her movie. I gritted my teeth. “What if… I’m the one actually dating Sterling Vance?” When I dated Sterling online, I used my private burner account, completely separate from my verified Hollywood socials. Because of that, not even my manager knew I was the one involved. I explained the whole situation to Jess. She was absolutely floored. “Serena Thorne has the guts to steal this kind of clout? Is she out of her mind?!” It was common knowledge in the industry that Sterling Vance was not only unforgiving but utterly ruthless in business. No one dared to mess with him, let alone publicly lie to him. Even though I knew for a fact I was his online girlfriend, I didn’t dare jump out and claim it. Because not only had I blocked him, I had literally called him a dumbass. Jess and I brainstormed all night but couldn’t come up with a foolproof damage-control plan. Running on zero sleep and a quick layer of makeup, I was shuttled to the reality show set. When I arrived, several cast members were already surrounding Serena, gossiping excitedly. “Serena! What’s it like dating a billionaire?” “You’re so good at keeping secrets!” “What’s Mr. Vance like in private?” “Now that the misunderstanding is cleared up, did you take him off your block list?” The barrage of questions made Serena blush coyly. She covered her mouth. “He hasn’t reached out to me personally yet, so the block list… I’m not planning on letting him out just yet.” Nobody expected that answer. “What?! You still haven’t unblocked him?!” “You’re probably the only woman on earth who dares to treat Sterling Vance like that, Serena!” “I can’t even imagine how much he spoils you behind closed doors!” … Serena gave another shy smile. “Oh stop, you guys are exaggerating~” Everyone looked at her with envy. I was the only one who slowly furrowed my brows. She hadn’t taken Sterling Vance off the block list… wasn’t that because he was on MY block list? My subtle expression was instantly captured by the eagle-eyed viewers watching the live stream. [What is Harper doing? What’s with that face?] [I heard she’s insanely jealous of Serena dating the billionaire. She can’t even hide it!] [Lmao, stay mad. It’s not Serena’s fault Harper doesn’t have her luck.] [Why did the producers even invite Harper? Just to watch her pout?] … Serena noticed me too. She walked over with a radiant smile. “Harper, you’re finally here! The host said they’re announcing a huge surprise once everyone arrives. We were all just waiting for you.” I silently checked the time. Call time was strictly 8:30 AM. It was barely 8:05 AM. Sure, because of the Sterling Vance fiasco, I didn’t fall asleep until 5 AM and was a little sluggish, but I definitely wasn’t late! But the internet had already caught Serena’s drift. [So Harper still hasn’t fixed her diva attitude?] [Making a whole room wait for her. The audacity!] [Only our sweet Serena would still smile at her after waiting that long!] [Harper is so annoying. Can they just kick her off the show?] 04 I desperately wanted to roll my eyes at her. But I held it in. I looked at the host. “What huge surprise?” The host smiled mysteriously. The giant LED screen behind him flickered to life. It projected a screenshot of a brand-new tweet. Three minutes ago, Sterling Vance had posted exactly four words: [Going where you are.] The attached image was the logo of our reality show. The host announced: “Ta-da! Our show is incredibly honored to welcome our newest guest star—the CEO of Vance Corp, Mr. Sterling Vance!” The internet completely erupted. [Going where you are?! Is he literally chasing his wife onto a reality show set?!] [Remember what Serena just said? He hasn’t reached out, so she wouldn’t unblock him. And then the CEO literally pulls up to her workplace! He’s so whipped!] [This is a man who schedules interviews down to the minute, and he just drops everything for a reality show? If this isn’t true love, what is?!] [I can’t even imagine how sweet it’s going to be when he actually walks on set!] [God, let me reincarnate as Serena Thorne in my next life, please!] Serena’s expression was a masterpiece. First, her eyes widened slowly. Then, she covered her mouth in disbelief. Finally, she bashfully lowered her head. Someone immediately teased her, “Serena, the billionaire chased you all the way here! You should probably take him off the block list now, right?” She hid her face, pretending to be flustered. “Oh my god… I’ll see how he behaves when he gets here~” The room erupted into playful cheering. I was extremely confused. So, did Sterling Vance really believe Serena was his online girlfriend that easily? He even came on a reality show for this? I couldn’t help but recall my online dating days with Sterling. Whenever he made me mad, he’d send me money on CashApp. If I ignored him, he’d send me pictures of his abs. If I kept ignoring him, the waistband in the pictures would get lower and lower. He definitely knew how to coax someone. But… he was coaxing me. How did he suddenly turn into the guy Serena was claiming could be effortlessly manipulated by her? I couldn’t hold back anymore. I looked right at Serena. “If Sterling Vance ‘behaves,’ are you sure you can take him off the block list?” Serena froze for a second. Then she nodded quickly. “Of course.” Someone looked at me in confusion. “Harper, why would you ask that?” I didn’t answer immediately. If I announced right now that I was the real online girlfriend, the internet would probably crucify me, right? Netizens were already tearing me apart. [Is Harper mentally ill? Why is she suddenly stirring the pot?] [Her jealousy is practically oozing through the screen. Seeing how spoiled Serena is by Mr. Vance, she’s probably bitter she’s never experienced that.] [Seriously, what is there to question? Sterling Vance literally came on the show FOR Serena!] [She’s so incredibly rude. But whatever, when Mr. Vance gets here, he’ll definitely put her in her place for Serena! Kick her out!] Serena caught my hesitation and instantly straightened her posture. She frowned at me. “Yeah, what do you mean by that? If I can’t, are you saying you can?” Her tone was interrogative. Her eyes even carried a hint of provocation. “Harper, are you just…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but the sarcasm was deafening. Are you envious? Are you jealous? Are you trying to start drama? Everyone on set stared at me. I was getting irritated. Unable to take the bullshit any longer, I spoke up: “Yeah, I can.” “He’s currently sitting on my block list right now. Wanna see?” 05 For a moment, everyone on set froze. Nobody expected me to say that. The room plunged into dead silence. People exchanged glances, totally speechless. The guest closest to me was the first to react, looking at me in pure shock. “Harper, what are you saying? “Who is on your block list? Sterling Vance?” I suddenly realized I had let my anger get the best of me and blurted it out on live TV. But you can’t un-ring a bell. I silently nodded. The guest looked bewildered. “So you’re saying… you also blocked Sterling Vance?” I casually replied, “Yeah.” Netizens: [This girl will literally latch onto anything for clout. Serena blocks the billionaire, so she has to say she blocked him too, even though he doesn’t even know she exists…] [And so what if she blocked him? Is blocking someone a flex? What’s with that attitude? Who knows, maybe she desperately tried to slide into his DMs, got ignored, threw a tantrum, and blocked him just to feel a false sense of victory?] [Exactly. Is she comparing herself to Serena? Serena and the CEO are having a lovers’ quarrel. Harper is just a pathetic interloper.] While the internet was raging, Serena marched up to me, looking astonished. “How could you possibly have Mr. Vance’s contact info?” I was completely sick of looking at her face. I decided to stop hiding. “Why wouldn’t I? Is it so impossible to believe that the person dating him online is actually me?” I stared Serena down, speaking with absolute confidence. The internet erupted in mockery. [Are my ears broken? What did Harper just say? She said SHE’S the one dating Sterling Vance?!] [She’s delusional… she has the nerve to fake this? Serena and the billionaire already practically confirmed it online. Isn’t she afraid Mr. Vance will literally blacklist her from Hollywood?] [Ahhhh I can’t stand this crazy bitch! One second she’s questioning people, the next she’s having a manic episode. When is Sterling getting here to humble her?] [Wait… she looks dead serious. She doesn’t look like she’s lying. And do you guys remember? The picture the girlfriend sent him was one of Harper’s obscure editorial shots.] [Do you have zero critical thinking skills? They literally accused each other of catfishing. Why would she send her REAL photo? Whoever it is, it’s definitely NOT Harper!] [Yeah, I don’t get why you guys are doubting this. The CEO tweeted he’s coming to find his girl. It’s obviously for Serena. Harper needs to log off and get therapy!] … Serena was furious. “What do you mean? Are you trying to say you’re the one dating Mr. Vance and I’m an imposter?” Despite her anger, there wasn’t a shred of guilt on her face. I found it incredibly strange. Why wasn’t she terrified of being exposed right here, right now? Seeing her eager to deny it, I cut her off. “Then why was your first instinct to say ‘imposter’? “What if we were both just dating him at the same time?” 06 Serena didn’t expect that. She was speechless for a few seconds, her face flushing red before she shouted back, “Mr. Vance would never do something like that!” Her reaction was a bit too dramatic. I just gave a simple, “Oh.” I was silently debating whether I should expose her on the spot. After all, a live broadcast was hard to control if things went south. But before I could decide, Serena went on the offensive. “Harper, I’ve always treated you like a good friend. But you questioned me first, and now you’re slandering Mr. Vance! Do you have amnesia? We’re on a live broadcast! “Even if I’m willing to let this slide, I have to defend Mr. Vance’s honor! If you can’t produce evidence right now, I want you to apologize to him and to me immediately!” She delivered the monologue with teary eyes and a trembling voice. She stood there, stubbornly biting her lip, looking like a delicate, wronged little flower refusing to break. The guests who had been quiet until now shot me accusatory glares. “Yeah, Harper, this is really uncalled for.” The internet was fuming. [Seriously, is Harper unhinged? She actually accused Sterling Vance of two-timing!] [Enough is enough! I feel so bad for Serena. Not only is this crazy woman attacking her, but she’s dragging Serena’s man down too!] [Serena looks like she’s about to cry! Someone hug her! And someone slap the shit out of Harper!] [Heh, she better produce some solid evidence. If she can’t, her career is over! Sterling Vance will ruin her!] I stayed silent for a moment. To prevent myself from accidentally liking tweets or posting from the wrong account, I always kept a separate, private phone for my personal life. And since I was at work shooting a show, I hadn’t brought that phone with me. When I explained my dilemma, Serena’s smugness became visibly apparent. She pretended to look sympathetic, but she clearly thought she had caught me in a lie. “You didn’t bring your phone? We have the internet, Harper. Can’t you just log into your account on another device? “Or… do you just not have an account at all?” I was so done. She was practically begging me to end her career. “Fine. I’ll log in.” I cut her off. Too lazy to argue, I grabbed one of the production team’s iPads and logged into my private Discord/Snapchat right there on set. Someone whispered, “Wait, that profile picture looks exactly like the one Mr. Vance posted…” Serena’s face paled. She clenched her fists and leaned in to look. I shoved the iPad screen directly in her face: “See it?” There was only one person on my block list. The username was simply “S”. The profile picture matched the exact one Sterling had tweeted out. Serena clearly hadn’t anticipated that I could actually produce receipts. She froze, completely paralyzed. 07 The internet was stunned. [Wait, what? Harper actually looks like she has proof…] [Holy shit! The profile pictures match! And she was put on the spot, so there’s no way she faked it that fast!] [I kind of believe it. That photo the girlfriend sent really was Harper’s, and it was super obscure. Why would a stranger have that saved?] [Does that mean Serena is the liar?! But in that scenario, why would someone send their real photo? I don’t buy it.] [It doesn’t matter what you buy. She brought the receipts. Serena is about to be canceled…] Serena struggled for a long time before she managed to squeeze out a single word: “This? This is…” Everyone crowded around the screen. Amidst the shocked stares, someone suddenly pointed out, “But… you don’t have any chat logs to prove you two were dating…” I paused. Because I had just logged in on a new device, the local chat history was completely blank. Serena looked as if she had just been resuscitated. Her head snapped up. “Exactly! And how does that prove this is Mr. Vance?! Anyone can use that profile picture!” Having said that, she suddenly put on a wounded expression. “But for you to pull this up so quickly… could it be… could it be…” She didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, her large, teary eyes darted toward the directors behind the camera, brimming with the pain of betrayal. The implication couldn’t be more obvious. The netizens experienced a collective “aha” moment. [WTF! Yeah, why didn’t I think of that?! Harper’s ‘proof’ was way too smooth. Could this all be a scripted stunt by the producers?] [Oh my god. She acts super aggressive, forces Serena to demand proof, the crew magically hands her an iPad, she logs in flawlessly, and she just happens to have an account set up… this reeks of a pre-planned script!] [Wow, I’m so disgusted! If Serena wasn’t smart enough to catch the blank chat history, she would’ve been played!] [And Harper was talking about ‘two-timing’ earlier… was her next move to play the victim of a cheating billionaire for sympathy?] [So the producers are trying to use Serena and Sterling for clout to boost Harper’s career? That is so low!] The other guests began looking at me with weird, suspicious expressions. I even heard them whispering. “Would they really do that? I thought this was a live, unscripted show…” “Who knows who she slept with to get this storyline…” In that moment, I felt like I was turning to stone. I knew Serena Thorne was brazen enough to lie, but I didn’t expect her to be this good at gaslighting! If I have no proof, I’m a liar. If I show proof, it’s a scripted conspiracy. Where was the logic?! Seeing the anger shifting toward the production team, the host quickly stepped in to do damage control. “I promise you, everything happening on this show is 100% authentic and unscripted! As for the truth regarding Mr. Vance… he will be arriving on set very shortly!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “410905”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

One of our classmates, a scholarship kid from a rough neighborhood, was diagnosed with a massive tumor. The class treasurer, Heather Hudson, took it upon herself to lead the fundraising charge. She immediately publicly demanded that I hand over the entire class treasury to help cover his medical bills. I completely ignored her histrionics. I just gave her a cold look and said, “It’s gone. There’s no money.” Heather dropped her jaw, looking horrified. “We all pitched in fifty bucks each at the start of the semester! That’s fifteen grand total! How is it even possible that it’s all gone already?!” Later, our classmate’s condition got worse. He needed immediate cash for a life-saving treatment. Heather came cornering me again, but I still refused to cough up any money. She absolutely lost it. She started screaming that I had embezzled the funds, that I was practically a murderer for letting him die over money. Everyone else in class got swept up in her fury. “How could you do this? We actually trusted you to be class president. We were idiots to believe in you.” “Give us our money back right now, or we’re calling the cops!” “A guy is literally dying, and you’re this cold-blooded?!” Once the drama escalated to the administration, our academic advisor called a mandatory, grade-wide assembly. Facing hundreds of accusatory glares and pure, unadulterated disgust from my peers, I walked onto the stage and calmly pulled out a single, battered notebook. 01 It was a special class meeting. Our treasurer, Heather Hudson, was standing at the podium, looking completely devastated. On the projector screen behind her was a photo of Kyle Zimmerman, our classmate who came from nothing, lying in a hospital bed. He looked like a ghost, completely wasted away. Standing next to the bed were his parents. They looked worn down by years of hard labor, heads bowed, wiping away tears. Looking at them, a sour ache settled into the back of my throat. I watched as classmate after classmate walked to the front to scan the Venmo donation code Heather had projected on the screen. “We’re all in this together, we have to help our own.” “I hope he makes it. Man, life is so unfair.” “I don’t have much, but I can spare twenty.” For a moment, class spirit was at an all-time high. Everyone was trying to do their part to help a guy in trouble. Heather cleared her throat into the microphone, boosting her volume. “It is incredible to see how generous everyone is, but we also can’t ignore that we are broke college students.” “As you all know, we should have a substantial amount in our class treasury. I propose we use that immediately to cover his bills before anything else.” With that, she turned her eyes on me—the person in charge of managing that treasury. “Totally! We paid a lot of money at the beginning of the term. This is exactly the kind of emergency it’s meant for!” “Yeah, I forgot about the treasury. I’m fine with donating my entire share.” “Me too!” Relief washed over everyone’s faces. It was a lot of money to each of them, but not compared to a life. But facing all of those hopeful looks, I slowly shook my head. “It’s gone. There’s no money.” My words absolutely exploded the room. “What? It’s gone?” “There haven’t even been any big events this term where we would’ve spent it!” “I smell something fishy. We need to check the books.” Suddenly, hundreds of pairs of suspicious eyes were scanning me, judging me. Heather frowned deeply. She looked down at me from the podium, her expression stern and judgmental. “That is our money, the class’s money.” “We trusted you to keep it safe. This is life or death. Kyle Zimmerman is running out of time, this is not a joke!” I kept my gaze cool, looking at Heather’s righteous indignation. I let out a low, sarcastic chuckle. “I said it’s gone.” “What do you expect me to do, pay it back out of my own pocket?” Heather stared me down, her tone turning aggressive. “Where are the receipts? Where’s the invoice list?” “Show us exactly where all that money went.” She was furious, but she hadn’t completely lost her head. She maintained a chilling composure and demanded I produce the records right there and then. I didn’t argue. I immediately posted the semester’s detailed expense sheet to our class group chat. “Spirit Week… three grand…” “Teacher Appreciation Day… twenty-eight hundred…” “Lounge renovations… forty-five hundred…” “The Campus Idol competition… eight-eight hundred dollars???!” “This all adds up to way over fifteen grand!” Looking at the list I had posted, the faces in the room went from suspicious to outraged. “That’s a lie! I remember Spirit Week! We only bought some cheap pizza and energy drinks for the competitors. It couldn’t have cost more than a couple hundred bucks! Where did three thousand come from?” “And for the singing competition, we only bought a few costume accessories! How did that hit eighty-eight hundred?!” The torrent of questions from the class was finally summed up by Heather. “This invoice is fake!” 02 She stared at me with wide eyes, looking perfectly incredulous. The class caught on to what she was implying, and their expressions turned to pure disgust. “I can’t believe our class president is a thief.” “She didn’t even try to make the fake list look real. How dumb does she think we are?” “We are in college. Did she think we couldn’t do simple math?” “The amount she stole is enough for a felony charge.” “She never looked like she needed money, though. How could she embezzle class funds?” “Who knows where she was spending it…” Immediately, rumors started flying. “Okay, what is going on in here?” “Isn’t this supposed to be a regular class meeting? Why is it such a circus?” Seeing the figure appearing at the door, Heather was the first one to rush over. Her face was twisted with indignation. “Mr. Miller, I need to report something.” “Our class president, Sarah Miller, has stolen all of our class funds.” She wasn’t being quiet about it. She made sure to draw the attention of students from the next class over. Heads started peeking from behind our academic advisor, trying to see what kind of drama was happening. Mr. Miller’s expression went dark, and he pushed his glasses up his nose with a sigh. “Explain.” After listening to Heather’s version of events, Mr. Miller looked at me with a complicated expression. “Sarah, I… I can’t believe you could be so foolish.” He put on a performance of being deeply disappointed and heartbroken. “You are literally on the shortlist for the early grad school admission program. Why would you throw everything away right at the finish line?” He let out a heavy sigh, the pride he used to have for me replaced by total disappointment. At the mention of early grad admission, the class got even more heated. “She doesn’t deserve early admission!” “Yeah, she should be getting expelled, not rewarded.” “I paid fifty bucks for class events, not to pay for her life.” “She needs to be punished. If she steals now, she’ll steal on a bigger scale later.” “I am not okay with this!” Based on my grades and extracirriculars, early grad school admission was a guarantee for me. But if this allegation stuck, I wasn’t just losing admission—I was risking being expelled from school entirely. Mr. Miller paused, as if he couldn’t bear to be too harsh, and softened his tone a little. “I can’t believe you intentionally did this. There must be some mistake.” “But this is a serious accusation. If there’s no punishment, the other students won’t accept it, and I can’t look like I’m protecting you.” “Here is what we are going to do.” “You are going to voluntarily withdraw from the early admission program, and you will repay all the missing money immediately. If you do that, we can just put this whole thing behind us.” “With your grades, you can still easily get in if you apply the regular way.” He put on an act of being the concerned mentor, offering a solution that both gave me a lesson and quieted the angry crowd, while preventing the scandal from spreading. He looked like he was really trying to look out for my best interests. But I just frowned. “Grad school applications are due in two months. Do you think I have enough time to start over and be successful?” “Moreover, that money was not spent by me. The list I posted is detailed and accurate. Every cent was used for class events. I actually spent quite a bit of my own money to cover some of the extra costs. Why should I have to pay it all back now?” “Based on what?” Even though I was looking up at him from my seat, there wasn’t a hint of fear in my eyes. My voice was steady, and there was zero intention of backing down. Mr. Miller was so angry at my defiance that his body started to shake. “You!” “You made a mistake, and instead of trying to fix it, all you can think about is yourself.” “You are absolutely hopeless!” He sat down in his chair and accepted a bottle of water Heather handed him, refusing to look at me again. “Sarah, I’m your classmate and your roommate. I’m not trying to hurt you.” “Just listen to Mr. Miller. He is doing this for your own good.” “Why would you risk being expelled from school over fifteen thousand dollars?” Heather pleaded with me, looking pained and deeply concerned. “I don’t think we should even be talking. We should just call the cops. She is not going to learn her lesson any other way.” “Yeah, what is there left to say? I can’t believe I used to think she was a role model. I was blind.” “Only Mr. Miller and Heather are nice enough to still be thinking about her. If it was me, I’d blast this all over social media and let the whole world see what the president of Class 8 is really like.” Because of my attitude, my classmates were becoming increasingly furious. “I am not paying anything back, and I am not donating any of my own money. You can do whatever you want.” I threw that final, uncompromising sentence at them, packed my bag, and turned to walk out of the room, leaving everyone staring at each other in shock. 03 In class the next day, everyone was looking at me like I was some kind of monster. Every time I tried to find a seat, someone would immediately place a bag on the chair and say it was taken. I ended up sitting entirely alone in the very last row. Whispers of “slat,” “disgusting,” “piece of trash” were flying around the room. During the break, Heather suddenly let out a horrified scream. “Kyle Zimmerman’s mom just texted me. Kyle’s condition got worse.” “They need immediate treatment, but they don’t have the money… what are we going to do?” The girl who was always cool and composed was now covering her face, crying and panicking. Her words sent the entire class into a frenzy of helplessness. They were all young, they had never dealt with anything this real, and faced with the reality of a classmate’s life or death, they completely lost it. “Heather… we can launch a school-wide fundraising campaign. Don’t be sad…” The girl sitting next to her patted her back and tried to comfort her. “But… the situation is really desperate…” “How can we get that kind of money in time?” “We’ve been friends with him for four years. If he dies because we couldn’t help…” Her sobbing voice echoed in the dead silent classroom. I could feel hundreds of pair of eyes burning with hatred, looking at me. Heather sniffled, bit her lip, and walked toward me. “Sarah, you cannot be this cold-blooded. You cannot just watch a friend die.” “Okay, look, I am borrowing this from you. Can you just take the money out of wherever it is and let Kyle Zimmerman use it for now? Once this emergency passes, I will work as a delivery driver, I will do anything, I will pay you back every cent myself.” “Please, the situation is desperate.” She bowed her head, her voice cracking with desperation. Tears were pooling in her eyes, but she stubbornely refused to let them fall. Every other classmate was standing behind her, a united front of silent support. Looking at the dramatic performance of Heather Hudson, I just held my hands up in total indifference. “I said it’s gone.” It was as if she had been hit by a truck. Heather slumped into a chair, all the light draining from her eyes. She put her head down on the table and started to sob uncontrollably. My classmates immediately started to pull together whatever money they had on their phones, but it was the end of the month. Everyone was broke, and there wasn’t a lot to give. Suddenly, Heather, who had been crying for several minutes, sat bolt upright as if she had just remembered something. “I just remembered!” “My mom gave me a debit card. There is ten thousand dollars on it!” “That was meant for my ‘post-graduation start-up fund’!” “I am donating it… yes, I’m donating it right now…” She scrambled to grab her phone. A few minutes later, she looked up with a small, hopeful smile. “I’ve transferred my money, and the money we just pooled together, to Kyle’s mom. She said it should be enough to start the treatment immediately. We can start the school-wide campaign tomorrow.” Her voice was still trembling, her face a complicated mess of smiles and tears. My classmates quickly surrounded her, handing her tissues and trying to offer comfort. “Heather, you are an absolute angel.” “Yeah, Heather Hudson works her ass off at two jobs to save up, and she doesn’t hesitate to give it all for a friend, unlike some people.” “I am so done. The difference between her and Sarah is night and day!” Heather looked at me, her nose red from crying. “I never thought you were this kind of person. I was a fool to ever think you were my friend.” Several other classmates actually spit on the floor next to me to show their disgust. I just ignored them and kept scrolling on my phone, not even bothering to look up. A week later, Kyle Zimmerman was out of the hospital, saved by the school-wide fundraising campaign. On that same day, our academic advisor, Mr. Miller, called a grade-wide assembly. The rumors were flying that it was for a public shaming and disciplinary announcement. “It’s finally judgment day.” “I have a feeling someone is about to be expelled.” “Stealing from a dying friend was bound to have consequences.” The large auditorium was packed. Students were whispering and gossiping, trying to find out what had happened. Once the news spread, an immediate empty zone formed around me. I was being visibly and totally ostracized. I just sat there quietly, my head down, my expression blank and emotionless. “Students, this grade-wide assembly was called very suddenly, but it is incredibly necessary.” “As you all know, our class recently organized a massive fundraising campaign. Many of you contributed your own hard-earned money.” “And thanks to your generosity, our very own Kyle Zimmerman has been saved!” Mr. Miller was all smiles as he led Kyle Zimmerman onto the stage and patted him on the back. Kyle immediately got teary and bowed repeatedly to the audience. “Thank you… thank you all…” His cracking voice amplified through the microphone to the entire hall. Kyle’s parents were also there. The two of them, their hair turned gray with worry, kept wiping their eyes, their bodies trembling slightly. Looking at this scene, several people in the audience were sniffling. The emotion of having done something good was washing over the room. “Of course, during this fundraising campaign, one student in particular deserves our recognition!” Mr. Miller boosted his volume. Before he could even continue, hundreds of appreciative gazes were turned toward Heather Hudson. Heather looked bashful and shy. Finally, pushed on by her cheering classmates, she walked toward the stage to receive her recognition. She accepted the microphone, her voice trembling but determined. “True generosity is not about giving what you can afford, but about giving what you have.” “I am not rich, but I knew I had to give whatever I had to save a friend. I am just happy I could help.” “And this is not just my award. It is a shared honor. It is because of all of you that Kyle Zimmerman is safe.” She held up the trophy the school had prepared for her, smiling brightly. The Dean, teachers, and school board members who had been invited by Mr. Miller were the first to stand and clap. A storm of applause and cheers shook the building. Heather’s gaze swept over me. She bit her lip and spoke into the microphone again. “I know this isn’t my place to say, but as a member of student government, I have to.” “Since our peers trusted us with this power, we have a responsibility to be role models, to be worthy of that trust.” “Especially when that trust involves money. We can never, ever let our own greed damage the collective interest.” “They say that time reveals true character, and this emergency has absolutely shown me who someone really is. I just hope that the person who did this receives the punishment they deserve.” “Because Kyle Zimmerman almost died because of her…” She didn’t mention me by name, but everyone in the room knew who she was talking about. They knew who the student leader she was referring to was. Shouts of disgust and condemnation echoed through the hall. Mr. Miller raised his hands, signaling for silence. “After celebrating the good, we must now address…” But before he could finish his sentence, I stood up from my seat in the crowd. “Everyone, about the embezzled class funds… I have a notebook here.” “I think you all might find it interesting.”

The summer we turned eighteen, Mason took my virginity. I pushed through the discomfort, secretly beaming all night, thinking my agonizing six-year crush had finally blossomed into true love. That is, until the next day, when I overheard his friends teasing him. “Not bad, man. The school’s sweetheart let you score your first time.” I felt a bit embarrassed and was about to slip away quietly. Then I heard Mason’s careless, indifferent reply. “I want to ask the Homecoming Queen out, but I was worried she’d think I was too inexperienced.” “I just used Emma to practice my technique.” I didn’t say a single word. At the very last second before the deadline, I silently changed my college commitment from an Ivy League in New York to a university all the way in California. 01 Mason’s words hit me like a sudden clap of thunder. My mind went entirely blank. On a sweltering summer afternoon, I suddenly felt freezing cold. The conversation inside the classroom continued. The guys seemed stunned for a second before speaking up again. “Gotta hand it to Mason. A girl like Emma is only fit for practice.” “Doesn’t that make her basically… a backup hookup?” Mason laughed dismissively. “Don’t talk nonsense. It’s not like she lost out on anything.” Someone immediately chimed in. “True, true. Emma’s a bit too skinny. Compared to Mia’s body…” Mason threw a textbook at the guy, cutting him off. “It was just an impulse. The mood was right. Plus, she looked like she was desperate for it anyway…” The guys shared a knowing look and began hyping him up. “Who knew the quiet girl was actually so wild?” “Tsk, it just proves our boy Mason has too much rizz. Free meat at your mouth, might as well take a bite.” “She’s been obsessing over Mason for years. It’s a dream come true for her, she probably wanted to jump you ages ago.” The laughter inside the room grew louder and rowdier. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper, my hands balled into tight fists. It took every ounce of my strength to steady myself so I wouldn’t collapse outside the classroom door. Footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Snapping out of my daze, I fled the scene in a panic, hiding myself in a bathroom stall. 02 The tears of heartbreak and humiliation broke through the dam. Mason’s words echoed in my mind, word by word, destroying every last shred of my self-esteem. If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I never would have believed that the boy who held me so tenderly last night was the same person speaking so callously now. It turns out you don’t need to be in love to do something so intimate. You can lie to someone even when they are completely vulnerable. I was foolishly waiting for our happily-ever-after, when in reality, I was just a joke in someone else’s mouth. I cried harder and harder, my body shaking uncontrollably, but I didn’t dare make a sound. A long time passed. My phone buzzed with a text. It was Mason. [Call an Uber and go home first. The guys and I have a party tonight, it’s not convenient to bring you.] I didn’t reply. He sent another. [Make sure you go to CVS and get the Plan B pill yourself, I don’t have time today. You MUST take it. Be good.] I stared at those two messages in utter silence. Yesterday, from sunset to dawn, Mason had tossed and turned with me again and again. Before we both passed out from exhaustion, he held me close and mumbled specifically: “I didn’t have protection for our first time. Remind me to buy you the pill tomorrow.” He even lectured me, saying a girl needs to protect herself, that emergency contraceptives are a must because he didn’t want to mess up my body. At the time, I thought he cared about me. I thought he was responsible. I thought I had finally found my happiness. But now… In an instant, my mind cleared. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stop crying. I wiped my tears, fixed my hair, and walked out of the bathroom. Too embarrassed to go to a pharmacy in person, I ordered the pill through DoorDash. When the driver dropped it off at my porch, I waited a long time before I dared to sneak out and grab it. After swallowing the pill with tears in my eyes, I felt like I had lost all my strength. I just sat blankly on my rug. Ever since I moved next door to Mason at age eight, I had been his little shadow. Ten years of following him around. I had never imagined a world without him in it. I didn’t dare to. But from today onward, it would just be me. Outside the window, the streetlights flickered on, then eventually died out. I don’t know how much time passed before my best friend Lily FaceTimed me. “Emma, why aren’t you at our class party with Mason? “That Mia girl from the other class showed up. Since you’re not here, she’s throwing herself all over Mason. They’re making me sick.” Lily flipped her camera around. 03 In a dimly lit corner of the VIP booth, Mason and Mia, the Homecoming Queen, were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. Mia was wearing a crop top and a tight denim skirt, showing off her tiny waist and long legs. They were visibly isolated from the rest of the group, whispering so closely their faces were practically touching. Even through the screen, the intense, flirtatious chemistry was suffocating. My chest tightened uncontrollably. Mason had said this afternoon that he wanted to pursue her. It looked like he had already succeeded by nightfall. Mia drew a “Truth or Dare” card that required a guy to do push-ups with a girl lying underneath him. Unsurprisingly, Mason immediately stood up. The crowd started howling. Blushing, Mia obediently lay down on the leather sofa. Mason hovered over her, knocking out dozens of push-ups without breaking a sweat. For most of it, he maintained extreme control, carefully avoiding touching Mia’s body. Until the very last one. I don’t know if his arms finally gave out, or if he did it on purpose. He collapsed, pressing his entire body directly against hers. The screaming in the room reached a fever pitch, nearly blowing the roof off. Both Mason and Mia’s faces turned bright red. Encouraged by the insane cheering of the crowd, Mason simply lowered his head and kissed Mia. A deep, passionate French kiss, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. It lasted a full three minutes before they reluctantly parted. For those agonizing three minutes, I stared unblinkingly at the screen. I was so numb I almost forgot to breathe. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart alive. I wanted to cry, but I had cried so much that afternoon I literally had no tears left. “Ugh, did you see that, Emma? They were practically making out. He’s obsessed.” Lily sighed as she flipped the camera back and walked out of the loud booth to a quiet hallway. She looked at me seriously. “Emma, don’t be mad at me. If I didn’t make you see this with your own eyes, you would never give up.” My throat was parched. The words scraped like sandpaper when I finally spoke. “Yeah. I don’t blame you.” I only blamed myself for being an idiot for so many years. I thought that just because I was allowed to stay by Mason’s side, that spot belonged to me forever. “I just can’t stand Mason. He knows you’ve liked him for years, yet he plays the innocent boy stringing you along, watching you fall deeper and deeper. “You saw it clearly tonight. I really hope you think this through. Don’t let him ruin your four years of college on the East Coast…” “He won’t, Lily.” I cut her off, my voice eerily calm. “I’m not giving myself another chance to be a fool. “Lily, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to college in California with you. But you have to promise to keep it a secret for now.” 04 To stop myself from hesitating, I opened my laptop right in front of her on the video call. Without a second of doubt, right before the midnight deadline, I changed my final college commitment from Columbia University in New York to a prestigious university in Southern California. Lily was thrilled, practically jumping for joy in the hallway. She had begged me to go to the same school as her for months. But back when high school started, Mason and I made a pact. We promised to study hard so we could go to his dream city—New York—together. They had the aerospace engineering program he had loved since he was a kid. Even though I hated the freezing East Coast winters and had zero interest in STEM-heavy schools, I made it my ultimate goal for three entire years. Growing up as next-door neighbors, both our families loved the idea of us going to the same college. Everyone, including me, thought that Mason and I naturally becoming a couple in adulthood was a given. But now, I couldn’t find a single reason to go to New York. If I stayed by Mason’s side after today, I would absolutely despise myself. I just wanted to hide as far away as possible. I didn’t care where I went, as long as Mason wasn’t there. If he was on the East Coast, I was going to the West Coast. 05 Before bed, I drew a full bath, wanting to scrub myself completely clean. But when I took off my clothes, the purple and blue bruises on my skin were glaringly obvious. The memories of last night flooded my mind uncontrollably. The scalding heat of the boy’s skin when we embraced tightly, the heavy breathing in my ear—the lingering warmth still seemed to haunt the air around me. I shook my head violently, trying to shake off the absurdity. I grabbed the roughest exfoliating loofah I owned and scrubbed my skin over and over again until my entire body was inflamed and red. I awkwardly tried to erase the most humiliating memory of my life. The result was that I was in so much physical pain I couldn’t sleep a wink all night. As expected, Mason never sent another text. It broke the streak of saying “goodnight” to each other every single night for six years, ever since we got our first cell phones. It was for the best. This day was bound to come anyway. I might as well start the detox tonight. I drifted in and out of a daze until dawn finally broke. The next morning, while I was still deep in sleep, I felt a soft kiss pressed against my forehead. 06 I jolted awake. Opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was a familiar jawline and Adam’s apple. The scent hovering over me was Mason’s signature cedarwood cologne, mixed with a faint, unfamiliar trace of lemon perfume. I had almost forgotten—Mason had always known my house’s smart lock passcode. Seeing me wake up, Mason leaned in lower, chuckling as he tried to kiss my lips. I panicked and turned my head away, pushing him back and scrambling to the other side of the bed. Mason froze for a second, then teased me: “Why are you acting shy now? Hmm?” I didn’t speak. I just pulled the duvet over my head to hide. Mason started scolding me while playfully trying to yank the blanket away. “Emma, you’ve got some nerve. You didn’t say goodnight yesterday, turned your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’, and now you’re hiding from me?” He moved quickly, slipping right under my covers. Before I could react, I was trapped tightly in his arms. “Be good. I’ve told you a million times, you can’t skip breakfast. “I went for a run this morning specifically to get you your favorite bagels. I waited in line forever. “Do you want to get up and eat, or… do you want to be eaten first?” His breath was dangerously close, his hands already wandering. Snapping back to reality, I fought him with everything I had. But my 5’3″ frame was no match for a 6’2″ athlete. I couldn’t figure out what the hell he was thinking. He already had Mia, why was he still messing with me?! After struggling for a long time, I was panting and exhausted. Not only had I not escaped, but he was holding me even tighter. “What are you throwing a fit about now? “Are you mad? Just because I didn’t take you to the party last night? Over something that small?” I remained silent. He buried his face in my neck and laughed out loud. “Let me guess, your bestie snitched on me? “We were just playing a game, is it worth getting jealous over? Why are you still like this? Every time I get slightly close to another girl, you sulk.” I was so angry I couldn’t even form words. Remembering a self-defense move from gym class, I jerked my knee up sharply toward his groin. Taking advantage of his groan of pain, I scrambled off the bed. “Emma!” Mason gritted his teeth, his face flushed red. I quickly threw a cardigan over my pajamas and rushed out to the living room. I didn’t want to be in the same room as him, especially not my bedroom. A few minutes later, Mason walked out too, looking equal parts angry and exasperated. After a long pause, as if he suddenly remembered, he asked casually: “By the way, you took that pill yesterday, right? Don’t let an ‘accident’ happen, I wouldn’t be able to explain it to your parents.” He walked over to the dining table and grabbed a cup of iced coffee, holding it out to me. “Listen to me. Put something in your stomach before you keep throwing this tantrum. You know you have stomach issues.” I didn’t speak, and I didn’t take the cup. Mason held his hand in the air for a long time before his patience finally snapped. “What exactly is your problem?! “Emma, even throwing a tantrum needs to have a limit, right?” I replied coldly: “I’m not worthy of it.” Mason snapped. He slammed the iced coffee down onto the glass coffee table. He used so much force that the plastic cup cracked, spilling dark liquid all over my expensive white wool rug. “What does that mean? “Who do you think you are, Emma? You slept with me willingly, and now you think you can control me? Do you have any idea how suffocating you’re being?!” His tone was more vicious than I had ever heard. Instantly, tears streamed down my face. No build-up, just a torrential downpour. The humiliation and grievances from yesterday flooded my heart all over again. Mason didn’t expect me to cry so violently. For a second, he looked entirely at a loss. He frustratingly apologized: “I’m sorry. I drank too much last night, I’m just speaking out of anger.” He squatted down next to me, reaching out to wipe away my tears, but I dodged him again. He froze, his hand hanging in mid-air. Just as he was about to try coaxing me again, his phone chimed. He glanced at the screen, his expression changed drastically, and he stood up immediately. “I’ve got an emergency. You calm down by yourself for a bit. “You’re going to college soon, you can’t keep acting like a child. No one is going to put up with it.” 07 Less than half an hour after he left, Lily sent me a screenshot. It was Mia’s Instagram story. [Said I was hungry, and a magical breakfast appeared! Feels like my crush and I are totally manifesting the same energy~] The photo showed the exact same bagel shop packaging that was currently sitting on my dining table. I didn’t reply to Lily. I just silently wiped my tears, knelt down, and carefully tried to clean the coffee Mason had spilled. After scrubbing for a long time, I realized with crushing sadness that the stain had seeped deep into the fibers. It wouldn’t come out. In a fit of anger, I rolled up the entire rug and threw it in the trash. It was a gift Mason and his parents had hand-carried back from a trip to Europe years ago. While I was at it, I gathered everything Mason had left at my house, and every big and small gift he had ever given me. I even packed up every single photo we had taken together. It took me the whole day, but I threw it all in the dumpster. He probably wouldn’t ever want this junk back anyway. After Mason left that day, I didn’t hear a single word from him for days. Things must have been going well with the Homecoming Queen. Or maybe he was just waiting for me to apologize first. In the past, whenever we had a cold war, I was always the one to cave. Without exception. But this time, I didn’t reach out. There was no need. I blocked his number, blocked him on Snapchat and Instagram, changed my smart lock passcode, and deleted all of our shared accounts. After doing all that, I called my parents, who were currently traveling out of state for work. I told them I wanted to fly to Florida to spend the rest of the summer with my aunt. My plan was to stay there until summer ended, then fly straight to California with Lily for college orientation. Besides Lily, nobody else knew I was going to a school out West. This plan would perfectly avoid any chance of running into Mason. My mom teased me on the phone, “Ooh, are you going on a romantic getaway with Mason?” I made an excuse and denied it, not wanting to explain too much. I just told her I missed my aunt and grandma. I begged my dad to buy me the earliest flight possible, planning to pack and leave overnight. When I left my house, I unluckily ran into Mason’s mom in our driveway. She greeted me warmly: “Emma, why are you out here alone? Didn’t Mason come pick you up? “Didn’t he say he was taking you to Aspen to go skiing? Have fun, sweetie, I fully support it.” I felt strange. During finals week, I had mentioned to Mason that I wanted to go to Aspen to ski. But with how things were between us now, traveling together was completely inappropriate. Running late for my flight, I gave her a vague response and rushed off. But what I didn’t expect was that I would actually run into Mason at the airport. 08 He was with a large group of friends. Mia was there too. Mason was holding a designer handbag in one hand and had his other arm wrapped securely around Mia’s waist. They trailed behind the rest of the group. Every so often, Mia would turn her head to say something, and Mason would patiently lean down to listen to her. Unlike us. Mason was always a head taller than me, and as we grew up, the height gap only widened. When I was with him, I always had to hop around or tilt my head all the way back just to talk to him. Turns out, when a guy really cares about someone, he’ll automatically lean down. I took a deep breath. I told myself to have some backbone. Whatever he did had nothing to do with me anymore. If I let my mind wander again, I promised to slap myself. But there was only one path to the security checkpoint. I had no choice but to trail far behind them. Finally, we reached a fork in the terminal. Mason seemed distracted. He made several phone calls that apparently didn’t go through, aggressively tapping on his screen. Eventually, he borrowed a friend’s phone and walked toward the restrooms, his face dark as thunder. A moment later, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. “Emma, you’ve got a real attitude this time. I don’t look for you, so you don’t look for me, right? “You actually blocked me? “If you’re so tough, keep ignoring me. Let’s see who’s going to take care of you when you’re all alone in New York.” Mason’s tone was hostile, scolding me in one breath. I stayed silent. There was literally no way to respond to that. My silence seemed to make him even angrier. “I’m not wasting my breath. Add me back right now. “I’m going out of state with some friends for a few days, I might not have cell service. Don’t go crying if you can’t reach me.” I didn’t give him a single word in response. I hung up and turned my phone on Airplane Mode. From a distance, I watched Mason storm back to his group, looking furious. He grabbed Mia’s hand and, without hesitation, walked toward the gates on the left. I sighed, turned around, and walked toward the gates on the right.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “410903”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The night of high school graduation, Wyatt Reed finally talked me into bed. After that first taste, he became obsessed, entangling himself in my life for seven long years. Our friends all teased him for being a total simp: “Just marry her already, Wyatt. The guy would literally die for you.” Until one day, by pure accident, I stumbled upon his burner social media account. Hidden among thousands of posts was a record of a twisted, sickening devotion. A girl in a white sundress—delicate, ethereal, and radiant. She was his “One That Got Away.” His untouchable muse. That was the moment I realized that in our seven years together, He had given me his body, but his heart had always belonged to someone else. 01 The day I found Wyatt’s burner account was just a regular Tuesday night. Wyatt had just returned from a business trip. The moment he stepped through the door, he didn’t even drop his bags before pinning me to the bed. His needs were always high, and after a week apart, he was feral—impatient and rough. By the time it was over, I was too exhausted to even keep my eyes open. Ding. A sharp, short notification chimed. I watched Wyatt pick up his phone, his brow furrowing instantly. As he reached for his coat to head back out, I grabbed his wrist. “It’s so late. Where are you going?” Wyatt turned back, his voice dripping with that familiar, gentle sweetness. “Just a quick emergency at the office, babe. Go back to sleep. Don’t wait up.” Maybe it was woman’s intuition. Half an hour after the front door clicked shut, I was wide awake. I forced myself out of bed and called the night security desk at his firm. “Is the team working late? I wanted to order some late-night pizza for everyone.” “No need, ma’am. Mr. Reed let everyone off early today. The building is empty.” “Everyone? There’s no one left in the office?” “No one, Ms. Hayes. Did you need me to leave a message for someone?” “No. Thank you.” I hung up and sat on the edge of the bed in a daze. Our apartment was close to his office. A ten-minute drive, tops. It had been thirty minutes. Wyatt wasn’t at work. Where the hell was he? 02 The next morning, Wyatt came home. He seemed to be in an incredible mood, whistling as he unlocked the door. He brought a box of my favorite artisan donuts from a boutique shop across town. It was a local legend—high-end, always a long line, no delivery. “If my girl wants them, I’d climb the highest mountain to get them for her. I’d even bake them myself if I had to.” I let out a small laugh. I rubbed my temples, telling myself I was being paranoid. If I suggested Wyatt didn’t love me, our friends would be the first to call me crazy. “Nora, stop it. Wyatt is literally obsessed with you. He can’t breathe without you.” “You guys have been together seven years. Every time you fight, he’s the one crawling back on his knees, begging for a chance to make it right.” “Stop being dramatic. Just say yes to the proposal and get married already.” Our friends weren’t wrong. In this relationship, Wyatt was always the pursuer. But they were wrong about one thing: Wyatt had never actually proposed. Wyatt used to say: “Babe, I don’t want to give you anything less than perfect. I’ll ask when the business is stable.” I was young then, too. I didn’t want to be tied down by a marriage license. We were in sync—and so we spent seven years in this blurred, entangled mess. During breakfast, Wyatt stared at his phone, a faint, unconscious smile playing on his lips. “What are you looking at? You look happy.” The smile vanished instantly. “Nothing. Just a cat video.” “Let me see.” Wyatt pocketed the phone and suddenly scooped me up into his arms. “Nothing worth seeing,” he rasped into my ear. “You’re much prettier. Are you full? Because it’s my turn to eat.” Right before he pressed me back into the mattress, My eyes caught a glimpse of his screen. A bright red icon. It was a niche social app mostly used by women for aesthetic blogging. Why would that be on his phone? 03 Once a seed of doubt is planted, it grows like a weed. I waited until Wyatt went to take a shower and bypassed his passcode—it was my birthday. I only had time to find the username: “FadedStar.” The next morning, I sat in my home office. I filtered by location and profile picture, scrolling through thousands of “Star” accounts. An hour later, I found him. When I clicked on the profile, it felt like opening Pandora’s box. Thousands of posts. A diary of a sick, twisted obsession that made my blood run cold. [June 9, 2017. I slept with someone else today. I don’t regret it. You were the one who betrayed me first.] That was the year Wyatt stumbled into my dorm room smelling of whiskey. He talked me out of my clothes and stayed with me all night. [September 1, 2018. I missed the cut for the Ivy League. You think I chose this school for you? You’re wrong.] That was orientation day. Wyatt had knelt on the grass with a bouquet, telling me he wanted to be responsible for what happened that summer. He wasn’t there for me. He was there because he failed his top choice. [August 7, 2021. You actually got married? I will never forgive you. I hope you rot in hell.] That night, Wyatt drank himself into a stupor. He was violent. He used toys I hated. I cried for hours. The next day, I had a fever and ended up in the ER. [December 25, 2023. You’re divorced. Will you finally look at me now?] That day, Wyatt—a man who hated the holidays—put on a Santa hat and posted a happy photo on our public Instagram. I couldn’t look anymore. My hands were shaking as I scrolled to the very end. The latest post was from a few nights ago—the night Wyatt never came home. [The thing you can’t have in your youth will haunt you for a lifetime.] The photo was of a girl in a white sundress. Beautiful. Delicate. I finally recognized her. Clara Vance. Wyatt’s childhood neighbor. I sat frozen for a long time. A cold chill washed over me, and I began to shiver uncontrollably as the truth hit me. In these seven years of entanglement, his love had never belonged to me for a single second. The childhood crush. The years of pining. Their love was a tragic, cinematic masterpiece. So… what was I? 04 I took screenshots. I recorded the screen. I saved everything. That evening, Wyatt came home with a bag of new lingerie and “toys.” He always had new tricks, and I was always the one struggling to keep up. “I can’t. I’m on my period.” Wyatt paused, then pressed his weight against me anyway. “Then use your hands? Or your legs? I’ll be gentle, babe.” “No. I’m not in the mood.” After I rejected him a few more times, his face darkened. He didn’t blow up, but he was clearly annoyed. He got me a heating pad and made me a cup of tea. “Rest then, babe. I have to head to the office to handle something.” A friend once told me: “Don’t be ungrateful, Nora. A man only wants you that much if he loves you. He’s almost thirty and still acts like a horny teenager around you.” “Mine stays on the couch like a dead dog. The passion is long gone.” I used to believe that too. Wyatt never hid his obsession with my body. But I forgot that for men, love and lust can be two entirely different roads. I asked myself: If I were Wyatt, would I be this reckless and rough with the person I truly loved? As he wrote on his burner account: [You are the bright, untouchable moon. I dare not even touch you. To just have your light shine on me is enough of an honor.] And me? Our first time was in a cheap motel with scratchy sheets and zero regard for my pain. The difference between love and lust was a chasm I had finally seen. 05 I followed him. I watched him enter a small, boutique bakery downtown. Clara Vance stepped out, wearing a white dress. She looked surprised, her hands reaching out to grab Wyatt’s arm. But Wyatt was acting strangely cold. He pushed her away. “The shop is yours now. Don’t contact me again.” Clara didn’t listen. she clung to him. “I don’t believe you. You can’t stay away from me.” They went back and forth until Clara started to cry. Wyatt finally snapped, pinning her against the brick wall. “Don’t make me regret this.” Under the dim glow of the streetlamp, they kissed. I stood in the shadows, my phone out, snapping photos. In my memory, Wyatt hated kissing. I stared at their silhouettes. So, it wasn’t that he hated kissing. He just hated kissing me. He wasn’t avoiding a proposal; he was waiting for someone else’s divorce. Just as Wyatt was about to pull her dress down, he stopped. “Go inside. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Clara leaned in, persistent. “What? Going home to that girl to blow off some steam?” “I won’t touch her tonight.” “I don’t believe you. Am I prettier, or is she?” Wyatt went silent for a moment. “You, obviously. She can’t even be compared to you.” Clara smiled, satisfied. “Do you have any cupcakes left?” Wyatt asked. “Yeah. Why?” “I’ll take one.” At that exact moment, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Wyatt: [Hey babe, does your stomach still hurt?] [I’m picking up a treat for you. What flavor do you want?] 06 Wyatt was almost funny. Coming back from a tryst, bringing me a cake baked by the woman he just cheated with. I replied: [I don’t want a cupcake. I want those green matcha donuts from the Old Street bakery.] I could almost see his face falling. Old Street was a forty-minute drive in the opposite direction. But it was a “green” kind of day. It felt appropriate. Wyatt: [Sure, babe. On my way. I’ll Uber some food to the apartment for you to snack on first. Love you.] I locked my phone with a blank expression. I wondered how much longer he could keep up the act. 07 When Wyatt returned, he had the donuts. He also brought his best friend, Carter Brooks. Carter was wasted and crashed in our guest room. In the middle of the night, when I got up for water, I heard them talking. Wyatt’s voice was cold. “Next time you get this trashed, you’re on your own.” Carter was a notorious player. He always had a girl on his arm. “You don’t get it, man. Women are like clothes. You can’t walk around naked.” “The girls you pick up are walking petri dishes,” Wyatt snapped. “Find one girl and settle down. It’s cleaner.” Carter chuckled, still sounding drunk. “Like Nora? “She is a catch, I’ll give you that. Obedient, hot body… you’re a lucky bastard. “But Clara is back now. When are you dumping Nora?” Wyatt was quiet. “We’ll see. Clara hasn’t said yes yet.” “Well, when you’re done with her, pass Nora to me. I’ve been eyeing her for a long time.” Wyatt suddenly got angry and shoved Carter. Carter didn’t care. “What are you acting all protective for? You’re the one who told me how wild she is in bed. Why are you getting possessive now?” I stood outside the door, my body turning to ice. I never imagined that the Wyatt who was so “tender” to me Would talk about our private life so disgustingly to his friends. Wyatt’s voice came through the door again, flat and cold. “Go for it if you want. “She’s an orphan. Desperate for affection. She’s an easy mark. “A bouquet of flowers is enough to get her into bed. Good luck.” 08 I went to that bakery alone. It was cozy and chic—exactly Clara’s style. When she saw me, she froze for a second, but then put on a professional smile. I took one bite of the cake and put the fork down. “How long have you been back?” Clara smiled sweetly. “Not long. Just got in.” I knew who she was. During our second year together, I found his “shrine.” Wyatt had a box filled with flight logs to San Francisco. He went once a month. He told me his family forced him to check on her. So, when I was sick, Wyatt was in San Fran. On my birthday, Wyatt was in San Fran. We fought about her so many times. But every time we broke up, he would fight so hard to get me back. Until senior year of college, when Clara got married abroad. Then, he finally settled down. And now, she was divorced. And Wyatt was right back where he started. He saw me and frowned, trying to explain. “Nora, I grew up poor. Her dad paid for my tuition. Clara is back and struggling. I bought her this shop to pay back the debt.” No wonder the devotion was so deep. It was “gratitude.” I just nodded. I couldn’t compete with a debt of life. 09 “Have you found a place to stay? The winters here are brutal.” “Staying alone is so inconvenient. You should just move in with us.” I acted concerned, asking Clara if she was tired or needed help. Clara’s expression became increasingly uneasy, her eyes darting to Wyatt. Wyatt finally snapped and interrupted me. “That’s enough. She’s fine here.” As I left, I bought a cake and politely said goodbye. Wyatt’s face was thunderous, his rage barely contained. The moment we got into the car, he pinned me against the seat. “What the hell were you doing in there? “You can’t even buy a cake without making it a thing? “Did Carter tell you about this place?” “Why? Am I not allowed to be here? Or are you hiding something?” Wyatt punched the headrest, his chest heaving. He closed his eyes, forcing his voice into a low growl. “Nora, can you just talk like a normal person for once?” I was so over it. “Who told me doesn’t matter.” I threw the printed photos onto the dashboard. “Let’s settle the bill, Wyatt. “Is this what you meant by ‘working late’? Do you need to make out with her to file a report?” Wyatt didn’t move. A sharp edge of a photo caught his forehead, leaving a thin trail of blood. I looked him up and down with pure disgust. I threw his own words back at him. “You really are an easy mark, aren’t you? “She snaps her fingers, and you come running like a dog. “Wyatt, you are so pathetic.”

After a flash marriage to my cold, abstinent childhood-friend-turned-professor… He spent every single day at the lab and never came home. During the end-of-semester faculty evaluations, I took the opportunity for some petty revenge using a burner account: [Don’t let his sharp nose and good looks fool you, he’s actually terrible in bed.] [Honestly, he’s worse than the guy selling fried chicken downstairs.] As a result, my cover was blown. That very night, he pinned me against the bathroom wall by my waist: “I’m terrible in bed, am I?” “Hubby, I was wrong…” 1 It was nearing the end of the semester, and the university had just rolled out its new faculty evaluation portal. Anyone could leave a review, and it was completely anonymous. [Ahhhh, Professor Ethan Carter! I! WOULD! DIE! FOR! HIM!] [His fingers are so long, his nose is so sharp, he just looks like he’s so good in bed! So~ good~] [I’m handing you the mic, commenter above, please elaborate…] Less than an hour after the platform went live, Ethan’s reviews had already broken a thousand comments. His popularity shot straight to number one. I huddled under the covers, scrolling through my phone, the screen casting a sickly green glow over my face. I heard a faint noise from the front door. Ethan must be home. It was so late again! Was academia really that much more interesting than his own wife? Feeling petty, I typed out two quick reviews: [Don’t let his sharp nose and good looks fool you, he’s actually terrible in bed.] [Honestly, he’s worse than the guy selling fried chicken downstairs.] Suddenly, the bedroom door gave a soft click. Panicking, I locked my phone, shoved it under my pillow, and squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. I could feel him standing silently by my bed for a moment. Then, just as quietly, he closed the door and left. I let out a long breath. How weird. Did he always check on me like this when I was asleep? 2 My name is Vivian Hayes, and I’m an associate professor at Columbia University. A month ago, I got a flash marriage. The groom was my childhood friend, Ethan Carter. We’ve known each other for over twenty years. Growing up, he was my absolute nightmare. A boy genius who skipped multiple grades, won every physics olympiad, and got early admission to MIT. By the time I was in high school, this guy was already fast-tracking a combined Master’s and Ph.D. program. He was the first triple-MIT graduate I had ever met in real life! Our marriage was essentially sealed over a single dinner between our two families. My family was thrilled to latch onto such a golden boy. Everyone acted like I had won the lottery. The craziest part was that Ethan actually agreed to it. He just had one condition. While our parents were hashing out the wedding details, Ethan had lifted those deep, unfathomable eyes and looked at me calmly. I was already sneaking glances at him, and when our eyes met, my heart leaped into my throat. I instinctively sat up straighter. “I agree to this,” he said. “But we delay the wedding ceremony.” “And for now… we keep it a secret.” When I heard him say he agreed, my heart did a tiny, joyful flip—before immediately plummeting to the floor. If he was so disgusted by the idea of being seen with me, why agree in the first place? I looked at him in confusion, only to find him staring right back. I quickly looked away. What if he thought I was unhappy about it and backed out of the marriage? I felt like a thief, stealing the title of his wife first. I’d figure out the rest later. Who could blame me? I actually really liked him. 3 Everyone on the Columbia faculty knew that Ethan and I had a terrible relationship. Or rather, a highly antagonistic one. His specialty was theoretical physics. Mine was experimental physics. He was a full, tenured Professor. I was just an Associate Professor. He had a venomous tongue and always managed to belittle my field of research to absolute dust. He acted like theoretical physicists were the only ones on the bleeding edge, and I was just a grunt with my head down, validating his genius. “You’ll always just be following behind me.” That was his assessment of me on an academic level. But it felt like his definition of me as a person, too. Every time we argued, it only took a few days for me to forget why I was even mad, and I’d shamelessly wander back over to him. Only to lose another debate and storm off in a fit of helpless rage. The department head was so worried about us starting a brawl that he put our offices on opposite ends of the hallway, separated by a stairwell. Unless there was a faculty meeting, we practically never saw each other. I just didn’t expect that even after getting married, we’d still barely see each other. Our apartment was right near campus, all paid for and arranged by our families. On the master bed, the ridiculously festive, bright-red marital sheets were almost as red as my ears. I stared down at the matching slippers on the floor, too nervous to look at him. Suddenly, Ethan’s calm voice drifted over: “I’ll take the master bedroom. You can pick whichever of the guest rooms you want.” My heart sank like a stone. I mumbled under my breath, “We’re married and you’re still treating me like a disease. What do you think I’m going to do to you…” “What was that?” Ethan hadn’t heard me clearly. “Nothing,” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Good thing this place has so many bedrooms, or we might actually have to share space.” Ethan went silent for a half-second. Then, his voice tight, he asked, “Vivian, when our parents were discussing the marriage, you never said a word.” “So, what is your stance?” “Did you actually agree to this, or were you against it?” My heart hammered against my ribs. I shot a panicked look at him, terrified he could hear it beating. After a long pause, I said, “Did I even have a say in the matter?” I felt too guilty to look him in the eye. Ethan sounded like he was gritting his teeth. “Fine.” With that, he pushed open the door to the master bedroom and slammed it shut with a loud BANG. I was locked out. Was he… mad? 4 I took the guest room right next to the master suite. In the month since we got our marriage license, the only time I actually saw Ethan was the day we moved in. We saw each other less now than we did before the wedding. In the mornings, he left for campus before I woke up. At night, he stayed locked in his lab researching quantum mechanics until god knows when. By the time he got home, I was already fast asleep. He was never home, and I refused to text him first. It felt like a petty cold war. No seeing each other, no talking. Honestly, the emotional value Ethan provided me was lower than the delivery guy from the highest-rated fried chicken spot on DoorDash. At least that guy’s chicken was actually delicious. 5 At 7:00 AM, my biological clock woke me up. Ethan was already gone. On my walk to campus, I couldn’t shake the feeling that people were staring at me. It gave me the creeps. I whipped my head around to look. A few undergrads who looked vaguely familiar immediately ducked their heads, hunched their shoulders, and scurried away, whispering to each other. I think they were physics majors. When I got to the lab building, even the other professors were giving me weird, sly grins in the hallway. Professor Davis from the lab next door trotted over, clutching her Yeti mug, a massive grin on her face. “Professor Hayes, you are absolutely legendary!” “Of course I am,” I said, sticking my nose in the air. I had just published a paper in a core journal, and the impact factor was looking stellar. Professor Davis chuckled. “You should have seen Professor Carter’s face when he walked in this morning. It was pure thunder.” “Wait, he’s actually jealous?” I was shocked. Ethan was the last person on earth who needed another journal publication. If you lined up all his published papers, they’d circle the globe. He was actually jealous of me? Professor Davis pushed her glasses up her nose. “Well, no man can handle that kind of insult! Especially coming from you!” I frowned, racking my brain. What exactly did I write in my paper that managed to trigger Ethan Carter so badly? She patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, if Professor Carter tries to kill you, I’ll call campus security.” “Uh? It’s not that serious, is it?” Even at the peak of our worst arguments, he’d never laid a finger on me. She nodded vigorously. “Of course it is! You told the whole school he doesn’t last as long as the fried chicken guy! How is he supposed to live that down?!” “Wait, what?” It suddenly hit me. I made a terrible mistake. I whipped out my phone and opened the portal— Black text glared back at me on a white screen. Right next to my snarky comment, where the anonymous username was supposed to be, it boldly displayed: [Vivian Hayes]. 6 I couldn’t believe it! I made the ultimate rookie mistake! I forgot to check the “Anonymous” box when I was roasting Ethan?! I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. I frantically texted my graduate TA, begging him to cover my undergrad lecture that afternoon. I packed my bag and sprinted for the stairs on my side of the building, desperate to escape. The stairwell was dim, the motion-sensor lights completely failing me. I was plunged into darkness. I was looking down at my phone and missed a step, pitching forward. Someone happened to be coming up the stairs right at the landing, and I slammed face-first into their chest. The pecs were rock hard, and the cologne smelled incredible. Just from one touch, I could tell whoever caught me definitely had the physical stats to back it up! Wait, the smell was familiar. We had a guy this hot in the physics department? “Thank you, thank you so much!” I babbled, trying to stand up straight. Instead of letting me go, the guy gripped my arms and pinned me back against the concrete wall. As his face leaned into the dim light, I finally saw who it was. My brain flatlined. Alarm bells blared in my head. It was Ethan. His eyes were dark with suppressed fury. He lowered his voice and asked, “Vivian, have I been a little too lenient with you lately?” I forced a dumb, innocent smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “What exactly is going on between you and the guy selling fried chicken?” he asked through gritted teeth. Seriously, is that the part you’re hung up on? “Ethan? Are you up there?” A gentle, melodic woman’s voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. My heart skipped a painful beat. I looked past him. A tall, slender, strikingly beautiful woman was hopping up the steps on one crutch. It was Chloe Sterling. The exact second she appeared and saw us, Ethan shoved me away. He did it in a panic, like he was trying to avoid suspicion. Like I was something filthy. He pushed me away. My back hit the wall lightly, but my entire body ached. What was he so afraid of her seeing? 7 Squinting in the low light, Chloe looked between the two of us. Leaning on her crutch, her gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds before she let out a soft laugh. “Ethan, Vivian was just joking with you. Don’t be so mad at her. You know she scares easily.” Ethan’s eyes never left Chloe’s face. Chloe was a dance instructor at the university’s arts program, and a rising star in the American ballet scene. She definitely knew about my comment on the evaluation portal. This was an issue between me and my husband, yet here she was, acting like she was his closest confidante, mediating on my behalf. Was she even close to me? I stared hard at Ethan, waiting to see what he would do. “Yeah, I can’t be bothered. It’s too childish,” Ethan said quietly. He just went right along with her. And with his words, my heart sank inch by inch into the floor. Ethan shot me a cool, dismissive glance, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “It’s extremely childish.” My throat felt like sandpaper. I changed the subject. “Chloe, what happened to your leg?” “I tweaked my ankle during rehearsals. It hurts a bit.” She furrowed her perfectly shaped brows, looking like a fragile doll that needed protecting. Ethan frowned in concern. “I told you to wait for me downstairs. Why did you walk up?” “I haven’t visited your lab in so long, Ethan! I wanted to rest up there,” Chloe said with a bright, charming smile. I rolled my eyes so hard internally I saw my own brain. If she managed to hop up three flights of stairs on one foot, the sprain would probably heal itself in five minutes. “Alright, let’s go up. Want some coffee?” Ethan sighed, sounding fond and helpless. He never gave me another glance. He just supported Chloe by the arm and walked her up the stairs toward his office. Looking at them from behind, leaning on each other, they looked like a picture-perfect couple. Chloe had the mature, elegant allure of a sophisticated woman. She was understanding and sweet. I was just childish. I wasn’t mature enough to stand beside him. 8 Chloe, Ethan, and I had all known each other since we were kids. Her father was a board member of the Carter family’s corporation, though he didn’t hold many shares. But Ethan’s grandfather adored Chloe. For a long time, he treated her like his future granddaughter-in-law, and her parents explicitly raised her with the goal of marrying Ethan. Naturally, the two of them were always close. While my parents were turning me into the ultimate overachieving stress-case—forcing me to study relentlessly, enter competitions, and take endless exams until I couldn’t breathe—Chloe was learning piano, ballet, and fine art. She grew up radiating high-class elegance, artistic talent practically oozing from her pores. And she was genuinely gifted. She choreographed solo routines that won national awards and had a massive following on Instagram. She had always positioned herself as Ethan’s soulmate. She probably didn’t even know that I had hijacked her golden boy. I used to be so jealous of her. Ethan was always so gentle and patient when taking care of Chloe. But the second he saw me, he’d scowl, nitpick everything I did, and look thoroughly annoyed by my existence. Marrying me must feel like a life sentence to him. 9 Right before my final lecture of the day, Ethan sent me a text: [When you get home tonight, I’m going to show you exactly how ‘terrible’ I am.] My hand shook so badly I almost dropped my phone. What do I do? How was I supposed to go home after that?! If I went home, I was a dead woman! I spent the last few minutes of class completely spaced out, having no idea what I was even saying. Driven by pure fear, the second work ended, I agreed to join a small happy hour organized by a few professors I was friendly with in the physics department. My original plan was to use the socializing as an excuse to go home late. Maybe I’d have a little liquid courage, and then I could bravely face Ethan. I never in a million years expected to see Ethan at this tiny, casual get-together. I was invited by Professor Davis. Ethan was invited by Professor Miller. Clearly, the two of them hadn’t communicated. When we all sat down and stared at each other in the private room of the sushi restaurant, the air was so thick with awkwardness you could cut it with a knife. The other professors looked like they wanted to evacuate the building. I grabbed Professor Davis by the sleeve and hissed through my teeth, “You didn’t tell me he was coming!” “It’s all Miller’s fault!” she whispered back, looking like she wanted to cry. When we settled down, I took the seat farthest away from Ethan. One of our colleagues nervously chuckled and asked, “Professor Carter, you never come to these faculty dinners. What brings you out tonight?” Ethan smiled, a sharp, dangerous curve of his lips. “Just wanted to join the fun.” “After all, I’d just be going home to an empty house anyway.” His eyes locked onto me, heavy with implication. I kept my head down and pretended I was suddenly very interested in my chopsticks. Everyone silently agreed not to bring up the feud between me and Ethan, but after a few rounds of drinks, things always go off the rails. After we finished the sushi, everyone decided to hit a karaoke bar for round two. I raised my hand and said I wanted to go home. Surprisingly, Ethan spoke up at the exact same time: “I’m a bit tired too.” I panicked. If his next sentence was “I’ll take her home,” I was doomed. At least here there were witnesses! If we went home alone, I stood zero chance in a fight against him! I quickly backpedaled: “Never mind, I’ll hang out with you guys a little longer.” My colleagues howled off-key into the microphones while Ethan and I sat on opposite ends of the long leather sofa. Everyone tacitly formed a buffer zone between us. After singing for over an hour, the crowd got bored and decided to play Truth or Dare. A bunch of middle-aged academics huddled around an empty beer bottle, cheering like frat boys. The bottle spun and landed perfectly, pointing right at Ethan. Before anyone could even ask, he simply said, “Truth.” Professor Miller thought for a moment and asked, “Professor Carter, do you have a girlfriend?” The rest of the faculty exchanged knowing smirks. Everyone knew Ethan was famously aloof, a total lone wolf who never showed interest in women—except for Chloe Sterling from the arts department. The entire campus basically assumed Ethan and Chloe were one confession away from being an official couple. Ethan looked up. In the dim, flashing neon lights of the karaoke room, his eyes were bright. He thought of something, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a genuine, star-striking smile. He opened his mouth and said, “No. But there is a girl I really, really like.” The room erupted into cheers and whistling. They were practically chanting Chloe’s name. Next to me, Professor Davis whispered, “Oh my god, my ship is sailing.” I sat there, my lips stretched into a hideous, painful smile. So that’s why he smiled so beautifully. He was thinking about Chloe. Then what did that make me?

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