During my senior year of high school, my parents cut off all my financial support to force me to drop out. With nowhere else to go, I managed to enroll in an elite, tuition-free private prep school full of insanely wealthy kids. The catch? I still needed money for food. After starving for half a month, wearing my most threadbare clothes, I finally mustered the courage. I looked at the class of trust-fund babies who never studied: “Does anyone… does anyone need their homework done? One assignment… just five dollars.” The kids, who had been busy flexing their wealth, stopped messing around and stared at me in shock. A moment later, a cacophony of voices erupted: “Five dollars? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred! Do mine first!” “I bid five thousand! Put me first in line!” “Fifty thousand! In cash!” “Name your price! I want to see who dares outbid me today!” 01 I was kicked out of my house right at the beginning of my senior year. My dad, his face twisted in anger, pointed a finger right at my nose and yelled: “Other girls your age are already working and bringing money home. But you? You just drain my wallet all day long. You’re nothing but a money pit.” My mom chimed in with her usual “practical” advice: “If you don’t start working now, where are we going to get the money for your brother’s college tuition later?” After screaming myself hoarse while clutching my stack of academic awards, I realized arguing was pointless. I ran away from that house. My dad’s voice chased after me, mocking: “Let’s see how you make it to college without us supporting you!” I took my transcripts and bounced around several public high schools. The response was always the same: “Your grades are good, but who knows if they’ll drop during senior year?” “We can only offer a tuition waiver.” That wasn’t enough. I needed to eat. Clutching my last shred of hope, I stood in front of St. Jude’s Preparatory Academy. This place was exclusively for the children of the ultra-rich. Trust-fund babies everywhere. Every day, if they weren’t fighting, they were showing off their wealth. Nobody studied. In their world, the SATs were just a formality. They were all going to expensive private colleges or studying abroad anyway. When I stood timidly in the principal’s office, wearing clothes washed so many times the hems were frayed, the Dean of Students looked down her nose at me: “Are you sure you want to be here? Aren’t you afraid of being bullied?” I shook my head vigorously: “As long as you can waive my tuition and give me a tiny bit of a stipend… ” “Really, just a tiny bit… Three hundred, no, just a hundred dollars a month is fine. I promise to study hard and bring honor to the school with my test scores.” The Dean agreed. I took the $10,000 scholarship advance, thanked her profusely, and backed out of the room. The moment I stepped out the door, I heard her scoff in disgust: “A hundred bucks a month? Who is she trying to insult?” 02 I successfully took my place in the classroom. The noisy chatter of the rich kids paused, and they all examined me with curious eyes. “What is she wearing? Why are there holes in it? Did Louis Vuitton release a new ‘war-torn’ collection?” “Why not Chanel?” “The fabric is actually holding together despite being so worn. It can’t be a designer brand. Only cheap flea market clothes have that kind of durability.” “Oh, you know so much about it. Have you worn them?” “How dare you accuse me of wearing flea market trash! You’re dead! I’ll have my dad pull his investments from your family’s company tomorrow…” Two rich kids started brawling on the floor. I kept my composure, walked past them, and headed to my seat. It was located in the back corner of the classroom, right next to the trash can. I blocked out all the gossip and whispers. No matter how nasty their words were, I had heard worse from my own parents. What did the mockery of a bunch of spoiled rich kids matter? Now, I had a place to study and the right to take my college entrance exams. No one in the class bullied me. During passing periods, a pretty girl even ran over to my desk, looking at me like I was a novelty. Then she asked curiously: “Chloe, why are you wearing such torn clothes? Do you not like this season’s haute couture?” “Is it possible that I just can’t afford haute couture?” “Why can’t you afford it? Did your parents cut off your allowance? You can still draw from your trust fund, right?” I sighed softly. What’s a trust fund? Serena rested her chin on her hands and looked at me: “How did you get to school today?” “I walked. I woke up really early.” “Why didn’t you have your driver take you?” “I don’t have a car or a driver.” “Why didn’t you ride your motorcycle?” “I don’t have a motorcycle either.” “Oh, I get it. You only like taking helicopters, and your helicopter broke down this morning, so you couldn’t fly it, right?” I hid my face behind my book. Never mind, there was no way to explain it to her. 03 Two weeks into the semester, I was practically invisible. Every day, I shrank into the corner of the classroom, working hard on practice tests and studying. Gradually, the teachers began to appreciate me more and more. Because I was the only person in class actually paying attention. Not only did I listen carefully, but I also occasionally raised my hand to answer their questions so they wouldn’t feel awkward talking to a silent room. But my concentration was slipping more and more. I was starving. So hungry I wanted to gnaw on the desk. Although my tuition was fully covered, I still needed a place to live. The Dean had strictly refused to let me live in the dorms, saying my background was too poor and the rich kids wouldn’t accept it. I had no choice but to rent a place off-campus. Rent was unbelievably expensive. After begging and pleading, the landlord reluctantly agreed to take six months’ rent upfront. My $10,000 scholarship instantly shrank to $500. In a city where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, I could only afford a tiny attic in a remote suburb. After paying $500 for utilities, I was broke. With my current grades, I couldn’t guarantee getting into an Ivy League school, so I didn’t dare ask the Dean for another advance on my scholarship. Because of my terrible living situation, my study time was compressed to almost nothing. Despite my desperate efforts to catch up, my scores on the last junior year finals were only good enough for a decent state university. I didn’t miraculously transform into a protagonist from a teen movie, easily getting a perfect score while juggling a romance and barely studying. My stomach hadn’t seen food in over eight hours. My breakfast today had been a piece of seared steak and half a tuna sandwich I dug out of the school trash can. It was delicious, but the portion was tiny. I pursed my lips and looked up at my classmates, who were getting ready to leave for the day. They were discussing where to play golf or whether to take a yacht out for a party. I pinched myself hard, gathered every ounce of courage I had, and asked timidly: “Does anyone… does anyone need their homework done? One assignment… just five dollars.” 04 I had never seen these rich kids write an essay or do a worksheet. Every time the teacher assigned homework, I was the only one who carefully wrote it down, then went back to my sweltering rental and diligently finished it under a salvaged desk lamp. After I asked my question. The rich kids, who had been busy flexing their wealth, stopped messing around and stared at me in shock. Serena’s voice rang out in disbelief: “Class President, you actually do the homework?” Ever since I received high praise from all the teachers, I had been promoted to Class President. Consequently, all the classroom cleaning duties fell on my shoulders. My voice was as small as a mosquito’s hum: “Yes. I write fast and well, and my accuracy is high. If you guys are looking for someone to do your homework, you can consider me first.” “I don’t charge much. Just five dollars an assignment. Buy five, get one free.” Considering they all came from business families, and I had overheard a lot, I quickly added: “Prices are negotiable.” Shock cracked across everyone’s faces. A moment later, they reacted, and a cacophony of voices erupted: “Five dollars? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred! Do mine first! Let my dad open his eyes and see that his son is a student who loves learning.” “You have the nerve to say five hundred? I bid five thousand! Put me first in line!” “Fifty thousand! In cash! The one thing I’m not short on is money!” “Name your price! I want to see who dares outbid me today!” 05 The classroom descended into chaos. Their bids got more and more ridiculous. As if what I was writing wasn’t homework, but an original Shakespeare manuscript. I quickly waved my hands to stop them: “Just five dollars. I can’t take more. If you want me to write it, I’ll go one by one in the order you agreed to.” “It’s all STEM subjects anyway, it goes fast.” In business, a steady stream is better than a quick flood. I was afraid that if I took too much, their parents would find out, and that would be bad. After all, when I did homework for money in my freshman year, I took a rush order for six dollars, and the classmate’s parents checked their bank statements and found out. The next day, they blocked my door and cursed me out for a long time. The shouting continued, but Serena snatched the first spot. She smugly Venmo’d me twenty dollars. My secondhand phone lagged for a long time before the transfer finally went through. Staring at the twenty-dollar balance, I excitedly promised her: “Don’t worry, Ms. Serena. I promise to write your homework beautifully tonight.” That day, I made one hundred dollars. I took five orders. I stayed up until 1 AM doing homework. To guarantee quality, I never took on too much. The next day after school, looking at the fresh hundred dollars in my account, I was just about to shoulder the Chanel backpack I had fished out of the trash and rush home. The richest, most hot-tempered girl in the class blocked my path. She touched her diamond-encrusted manicure, pouted her lips at her two lackeys, and ordered: “Drag her to the bathroom for me!” 06 Even the bathrooms at St. Jude’s Preparatory Academy were brighter and more spacious than my suburban attic. But my forehead was dripping with cold sweat. Everyone had gone home; rarely anyone came to the bathroom now. Was she going to bully me? But I didn’t know how I had offended her. Since transferring to this school, I had been the most invisible existence. Every day, I tried my best to minimize my presence to avoid drawing their attention. Even when they flaunted their wealth in front of me, I would stare at the dizzying array of logos and quickly blurt out how beautiful they were, and how expensive they must have been. Then they would say with satisfaction: “It’s not expensive. Only a country bumpkin like you would think it’s expensive. This bag isn’t even a million dollars.” The money I made writing one assignment couldn’t even buy a single thread on those bags. Blair Waldorf—no, Blair Stanton—smiled sinisterly, reaching out to lift my chin: “You’re the Class President…” She dragged out her words. My heart pounded like a drum. I frantically recalled the past month and a half since I transferred. I hadn’t had any conflicts with Blair. Every time she showed off her wealth, I made sure to look envious and offer a few compliments. Last night, I took her five dollars and handed in the homework on time. No delays. The fiancé her family arranged for her was also in our class. The only thing I had ever said to him was: “Excuse me, Blair asked me to tell you that she’s waiting for you downstairs to take the yacht out.” I truly couldn’t think of how I had offended her. Her two friends gripping my arms held me tight; I couldn’t move. I thought to myself: If worst comes to worst, I’ll just drink some toilet water and beg for mercy until she cools down. As long as I can stay here and keep studying. Blair unhurriedly took out her phone, her manicure tapping the screen, making a chilling click-clack sound. Her crisp voice sounded above my head: “In a minute, remember what you should and shouldn’t say!” 07 To my absolute terror, she made a phone call. An authoritative middle-aged man’s voice came through: “Blair, sweetie, what’s wrong?” “Daddy, I really did my homework yesterday! My fingers still hurt! If you don’t believe me, ask our Class President. She’s aiming for a perfect SAT score, you know.” After saying that, she shoved the phone in my face. At the same time, she gave me a vicious glare. I swallowed hard. “Hello, sir. I’m Chloe, the… the Class President. Um… Blair really did her own homework.” “Is that so? When did she do it?” My brain went into overdrive. Yesterday, Blair went out on a yacht. There were definitely no witnesses out on the ocean. “Sir, yesterday after school, Blair said she wanted to study hard, so she stayed at school to do her homework.” Blair finally nodded in satisfaction: “Hear that, Daddy? I really did my homework.” “Haha, that’s my girl. Finally focusing on her studies! From now on, I’ll give you an extra million dollars a month in allowance as a reward!” Blair hung up the phone triumphantly. “You’re smart. I’m the only daughter of the Stanton Group. My dad only has me. He doesn’t have any illegitimate children, so the Stanton family is mine for the taking.” “From now on, you will do my homework every day. Don’t worry, I won’t treat you badly.” “But if you dare cross me, watch your back!” I nodded like a chicken pecking at grain. The two pairs of hands holding me let go, and Blair strutted away in her stilettos. Once she was out of sight, I finally dared to pick up my backpack from the floor and hurried home, still shaken. Because of the delay, by the time I navigated my way home, the sky was already turning dark. I was thinking about the homework I had to do tonight, walking very fast. Just as I stepped into my rundown apartment building, two figures seemed to have been waiting downstairs for a long time. My dad’s chilling voice rang out: “You ran away for a month, and I finally found where you were hiding!” 08 My legs felt like lead, so heavy I could barely take a step. The memories of those days when he beat me flashed before my eyes one by one. He stepped forward, snatched my backpack, and slapped me hard across the face. I was thrown several feet away. My dad cursed aggressively: “You think you’re so smart, running a hundred miles away to secretly go to school.” “I raised you, you ate my food, spent my money. You haven’t brought a single penny home, and you dare run away?” “I’ve already accepted the bride price, thirty-eight thousand eight hundred. Just waiting for you to go back and get engaged.” “Today, you’re coming home with me whether you want to or not.” In the stifling early autumn heat, I could even feel his spit hitting my face. Only then did I notice a beat-up van parked next to the apartment complex. Dilapidated, the windows completely covered. My dad waved his hand impatiently: “Hurry up, drag her into the van, we still have to hit the road!” A few people rushed out of the van. I looked closely. They were relatives of mine. Even though my family wasn’t exactly starving, my dad strongly opposed me studying. Especially after my younger brother failed to get into a good high school last year, and my dad went broke sending him to a private school, it only fueled his determination to make me drop out. I didn’t have any friends here. The only people I knew were my classmates. Watching them get closer and closer, I quickly pulled out my phone. It was the one Blair had tossed to me that afternoon. It was her old, latest-model phone. She said it was a reward for me knowing my place. The phone was smooth and fast. I quickly opened the class group chat, where everyone was chatting excitedly. “Yachts are boring. It’s always the same thing, so dull.” “Look at my new complete set of action figures. I spent over three million on this. [Image.jpg]” “I heard the Stanton heiress got an allowance bump. Are we renting out the golf course tomorrow?” “Let’s go horseback riding instead. My little pony hasn’t seen me in days, he must miss me.” Amidst the chatter. I inappropriately sent a voice message, my voice filled with tears and panic: “It’s Chloe. My dad is forcing me to drop out and go home to get married. My phone has GPS. Please, please come save me.”

I’m the ultimate sidekick to a billionaire heiress. She calls me her “bestie,” swipes her black card to buy me clothes and bags, and I never, ever have to pay when we go shopping. Lately, the heiress has a crush on the campus heartthrob. She told me to go after him. “I know he and I are from different worlds and it would never work out, but it would kill me to see someone else snag him. You go after him, I’m giving him to you.” ??? Emergency! How do I tell her that I literally just slept with her older brother? 01 “Chloe, you’re my absolute best friend. Everyone else just wants my money, but you’re the only one who doesn’t want anything from me.” The heiress, Serena, linked her arm through mine and affectionately rested her head on my shoulder. Hearing her say that… I felt incredibly guilty. Because not only did I want her money, I also wanted her brother. Back in high school, I saw her older brother come to pick her up. His face, his build—he looked better than a runway model. When he looked down and stubbed out his cigarette, that jawline struck me right in the heart! So, I latched onto Serena. She had a ton of fair-weather friends, but after a thorough screening, I was the only one left standing. Being friends with an heiress is honestly amazing. Just by sticking with her, I got chauffeured in luxury cars, had bills paid without a second glance at the price tag, and as a girl from an ordinary, working-class family, I got to experience a completely different lifestyle. I studied my ass off just to get into the same university as her. I simply refused to give up this kind of life. “Chloe, I really, really like Noah,” Serena said, looking anxious and insecure lately. As her loyal minion, I immediately agreed: “He’s totally worth liking! He’s gorgeous, super smart, his only flaw is that his family background is a bit ordinary, like mine.” Honestly, he was just a regular guy from an ordinary family. Noah was incredibly popular on campus. But to a billionaire heiress, he really wasn’t enough. “I know we’re destined not to be together, but it would kill me to see someone else snag him. You go after him, I’m giving him to you.” She stopped walking, as if she had made a firm decision. Then she cupped my face and smiled, poking my dimple: “My Chloe is so pretty, snagging Noah will be a piece of cake!” Seeing her serious expression, I started to panic. Help, Serena, how do I tell you… I just slept with your brother last night… My legs are still jelly… 02 Putting myself in Serena’s shoes for a second, I felt like a total piece of trash. So, I forced a stiff smile: “Ah, Noah isn’t really my type.” “Didn’t you just say he was totally worth liking?” Serena gave me a suspicious look. “That doesn’t feel right. He’s the guy you like, after all…” I squirmed, trying to talk her out of this absurd idea. “So, if he ends up with someone else, I’d be devastated. But if he’s with you, I’ll just feel like my bestie found a great guy, and I’ll be able to let it go…” The more sincere her smile was… The more guilty I felt. I thought for a second, my brain working in overdrive: “Compared to Noah, I actually think your brother is way hotter. Could I try going after your brother instead…” I asked, half-joking, half-serious. She waved her hand dismissively: “Forget it. My brother will definitely end up accepting an arranged marriage set up by our family. My parents are already looking for a fiancée for him. Going after my brother is doomed to fail, just like me and Noah. The gap is too wide.” My head spun for a moment. Actually, I’ve known this would be the outcome for a very long time. I understood this reality, and even comforted myself by thinking I hadn’t lost anything. It was a passionate fling, I got to experience the best, and that was enough. “Let me think about it…” I lowered my head, my voice muffled. “Chloe, trust me, Noah is really worth it. You two are from the same world.” … Right. Ordinary people from the same world. I shouldn’t ask for too much. Sleeping with Liam for this long was already a massive win. “If you really don’t mind, then I’ll go after him.” 03 Liam had been really busy lately. Sometimes he would lower his voice to take calls. His family was probably pressuring him. As his unqualified, secret girlfriend, I didn’t even have the right to step foot in his family’s home. “Good girl, Chloe.” I gathered my emotions, smiled brightly, took the shopping list Serena gave me, and went to buy her things. She sent me Noah’s Snapchat contact. Followed by a “You got this!” sticker. She had a gala to attend that night, a highly exclusive one. I wasn’t qualified to go. After we parted ways, I thought about it. I crouched by the side of the road, drafting a breakup text. I wrote, deleted, and revised a thousand-word essay for a long time, but still couldn’t bring myself to send it. My thrilling, one-year secret romance was finally coming to an end. “What kind of sweet nothings take half an hour to type?” Liam sent a voice memo first, his voice still that magnetic, seductive baritone. I let out a soft sigh. I deleted the essay. I was just a secret lover; what right did I have to initiate a breakup? To people like them, being dumped by someone like me would be an insult. “I missed my hubby.” I chickened out again. I typed a perfunctory reply. I was shameless. I knew Liam could never marry me, but I always called him “hubby.” He wasn’t used to it at first, but later he grew to like it. He was typing. I was faster, sending another message. “Hubby, there’s a bag I really want lately, it’s twenty thousand dollars. I want it… purr purr~” I attached a sticker of a cute kitten aggressively nuzzling its owner. Being with Liam, I never lacked for money. He gave me even more than Serena did. 04 But this was the first time I explicitly asked for a bag. We had just slept together last night, and during the day I’m asking for a twenty-thousand-dollar bag. No matter how you look at it, I seem like a gold digger only after his money. To my surprise, he transferred the money without hesitation. “Go spend it.” Looking at the twenty thousand, tears immediately fell from my eyes. Maybe in Liam’s eyes, this was our ideal dynamic. I was just a woman trying to get money out of him. This was also the most comfortable arrangement for him. If I kept clinging to him demanding love, that would be ridiculous. I cried for a bit. Then I picked up my phone and typed again. “Hubby is so generous. Can hubby buy me an apartment? In the Upper East Side, I want to live there.” “How much.” He replied incredibly fast. I looked up the housing prices in that area and gasped. Ten million, starting. “Nine million.” I let out a scoff, ultimately not typing “one hundred million.” I could already picture him frowning at the message, confirming that I truly was a gold digger. “I’ll have Mark take you there tomorrow to handle the paperwork.” ??? I shot up from my crouch. Are you kidding me, bro?! This didn’t even make you mad? My mind was a chaotic mess. I simply turned off my phone, refusing to think about it anymore. The next day, Serena asked me how my progress was. Only then did I realize Noah hadn’t even added me back. “Progress: -1.” “?” “He hasn’t added me back.” “Ugh, he’s just like that. It took him five hours to add me back too.” I patiently chatted with her for a long time. Serena had a hangover from last night, a perfect opportunity for me to show my worth and offer some warmth. But thinking about Liam made me inexplicably sad. That afternoon, just as I walked out of the library, Mark called. He said the paperwork was ready and told me to come sign it. 05 Is this for real? I braced myself and got into the car. The mocking I expected didn’t happen. Mark respectfully brought me to the sales office. Into the VIP Client Manager’s office. “I’m really signing this?” I really wanted to ask. We were already here. Wasn’t he going to furiously mock me for being a gold digger? Mark, looking perplexed, pushed the contract towards me: “Although Mr. Sterling had his eye on a different building, he said this one is closer to you, making it more convenient.” I glanced at the contract. My name. I sighed and put down the pen: “I’m sorry, I don’t want it anymore.” Mark looked completely bewildered. The Client Manager looked like she had been struck by lightning. “Ma’am, if you have any concerns, please let me know. I will do my absolute best to resolve any issues perfectly.” The money could be refunded. But a house… that was too messy a tie. What was Liam thinking, actually agreeing to buy a house? I ended up running away. Accepting a house while dating and not being able to return it after a breakup was too much of a hassle. “You don’t like it?” Liam called. His voice had that same magnetic, intoxicating calm. “I don’t like it. Liam, I’ve thought about it. Let’s break up. You don’t like me anymore anyway.” 06 What was I hesitating for? With these rich playboys, the messier the breakup, the more they hate you. If they don’t hate you, it’s even simpler. Just talk money, break up, and they find someone else. After I said that, the phone was silent for a long time. I pulled it away from my ear and glanced at it; the call timer was still running. So I hung up with a click. Then blocked and deleted his number in one smooth motion. I tried to look relaxed as I returned to my dorm. Serena predictably texted, urging me on. Feeling helpless, I tapped on Noah’s Snapchat. Wait, contact cards require you to click ‘Add Friend’? This time, when I sent the request, the other side accepted instantly. Then a “Hello” sticker flashed across the screen. I was feeling pretty down at the moment. With a wicked sense of humor, I replied with a dozen dramatic meme stickers, stringing them together to say: “See this flower? I’d rather throw it away than give it to you…” After sending them, I stared blankly at my phone. According to Serena’s demands, to go after Noah… I should be sweet-talking him. But I just didn’t have the energy. I wanted to cry so badly, but I held it in. “That’s okay, where did you throw it?” “I’ll go pick it up.” Noah sent a voice message. 07 As the campus heartthrob, Noah’s voice had a boyish quality—a lazy, clear, sunny tone. Completely different from Liam’s deep, magnetic, mature voice. And that sentence he just said was undeniably flirtatious. The key point being, he didn’t even know who I was. Based purely on my avatar—a dark, edgy little black rabbit. There was absolutely nothing flirtatious about it. …So this guy really wasn’t picky at all. Flirting with anyone who came his way. A true “cast a wide net” kind of guy. The guy Serena liked turned out to be just like this. “Did he accept? Send me a screenshot.” Serena texted. 08 I was too embarrassed to screenshot my own meme spam, afraid she would scold me. When I sent the screenshot, she asked, completely confused: “Noah actually sends meme stickers? And he initiated it? Babe, I’m shipping this so hard.” If you heard the voice message, you’d ship it even harder. I wanted to block and delete Noah too, but I held back. After breaking up with Liam, I basically stopped going out. Every day, I just shuttled between three places. If I wasn’t studying, I was eating or sleeping. I didn’t even have the energy to cater to Serena. “Chloe, go to The Lumière Room tonight. I have a party later, wait for me in the lobby. It’ll be too late to get a car. You have to come.” Serena issued a command. It was an absolute order. Since I was no longer with Liam, I figured I shouldn’t continue being Serena’s minion. What if I ran into Liam? I’d be exposed. Serena’s revenge would likely be terrifying. I didn’t want to go. But she didn’t give me a chance to refuse. “Oh right, Chloe. Noah doesn’t seem to be poor. I just saw him appear next to Mr. Vanderbilt. I think he’s Mr. Vanderbilt’s grandson? Look into his background for me. Don’t go after him for now.” Serena called. Her tone was very excited. I sighed in relief. Finally, I was off the hook from this ridiculous pursuit. I quickly nodded: “Should I delete him then? Honestly, I always thought you two were a match made in heaven. Now that you’re from the same world, isn’t that even better? That’s amazing.” “Then delete him, Chloe. I know you don’t like him anyway, so we won’t force it.” Serena smiled. “Oh, screen record yourself blocking and deleting him for me. I want to know you truly don’t care.” “Okay.” I had been too dismissive the past couple of days. Now that Serena was hungover and dizzy, it was originally a great opportunity for me to show my worth and provide some comfort. But thinking of Liam made me inexplicably sad. I hung up the phone, started screen recording, blocked and deleted Noah. Then I sent the screenshot of my blocked list to her to check. I suddenly had a bad feeling. I checked my phone, and the feeling grew stronger! Holy shit! I told you I forgot something! 09

When the tabloids broke the news of Ethan Cross’s impending marriage, he was lying with his head in my lap, reviewing a merger file. I thought it was just another piece of celebrity gossip and teased him: “Interesting. They’re actually saying you’re getting married next month.” Ethan casually flipped to the next page of the document. “Yeah. Make sure you’re free to play piano at the reception to celebrate.” I froze, completely stunned. Ethan traced his fingers over my face, a touch of mockery in his eyes. “It took a lot of work to get her to say yes. Be a good girl, okay? Don’t make a scene.” 01 My mind went completely blank. I stared at him, at a total loss for what to do. Ethan let out a soft scoff and set the file down on the coffee table. “Don’t look at me like a deer in headlights. It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.” “Or did you actually think I was going to marry you?” I fought back tears, pushing against his shoulders to sit up. “These five years… what was I to you?” Ethan raised an eyebrow, sitting up and gripping my chin. “An assistant. You are the most capable assistant I’ve ever had.” I wasn’t satisfied. I asked again, my voice trembling. “Just an assistant?” Ethan’s expression darkened slightly. He wound a lock of my hair around his finger. “Sarah, do you know what I like most about you? You’re compliant. Smart. Rational. Sane.” “Right now, you’re acting in a way that is very annoying.” My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. A dense, stinging pain surged through my body. He leaned in and kissed away the tear at the corner of my eye, his hand moving down slowly. My body’s instinctual reaction made me shudder slightly against my will. He laughed out loud, the sound filled with ridicule. “Don’t act so aggrieved. After all, you enjoy this too, don’t you?” I pushed him away with all my might and frantically grabbed my clothes, pulling them on in a panic. He sat up, resting his chin on one hand, watching me amusedly. “By the way, you know my fiancée. She’s timid. Don’t go near her, don’t scare her.” I froze mid-motion. A horrifying premonition seized my brain. “Who is it?” “The Sterling Group heiress. Harper Sterling.” It was like a lightning bolt struck me. My brain felt like it exploded, pressure throbbing violently at my temples, mixed with a piercing pain. “Why her? You know… she…” “That was all a misunderstanding.” Ethan reached out, pulled me back toward him, and got down on one knee to help me slip my heels back on. “Harper already explained everything to me. If you’re disrespectful to her because of things that happened in the past, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” He squeezed my ankle hard, looking up at me. It was a blatant threat in his eyes. The pain made it almost impossible to sit still. I forced a sliver of a voice out of my throat. “Understood.” 02 Winter in Chicago is unforgivably cold. I stood by the railing of a bridge over the Chicago River, the wind stinging my face like a slap. I used to think that Ethan and I would get married, have kids, and live a quiet, happy life just like any other loving couple. After all, no other man had ever treated me as well as he did. He would clumsily cook my favorite dishes himself. Even though he hated the smell of deep-dish pizza, he still took me to Lou Malnati’s to get the authentic stuff. He even went to a simulation class to experience the pain of childbirth, crying as he told me we shouldn’t have kids. I thought he loved me to his core, but it turns out he never once considered marrying me, let alone having a family with me. The north wind howled past, and the river water rushed furiously beneath the bridge. I stood on my tiptoes, about to lean over the railing, but someone suddenly grabbed me in a tight bear hug. It was an older woman, her face filled with panic, gripping my hand tightly. “Oh honey, I’ve been watching you for a while. It’s not worth it, it really isn’t.” “If something happened to you, it would break your parents’ hearts.” “Life is long. There’s nothing you can’t get through.” She took off her gloves, scarf, and hat, and put them all on me. Finally, she pulled a warm, foil-wrapped hot dog from her coat pocket. I had been holding back tears for so long, but at that moment, they completely exploded. I sobbed uncontrollably. I wasn’t actually trying to jump. I just wanted the cold wind to wake me up. To force myself to accept the brutal reality that Ethan Cross did not love me. But facing this stranger’s kindness, I suddenly felt so aggrieved, so full of resentment. 03 By the time Ethan’s call came through, I was already back at my apartment. “I’m formally introducing Harper to everyone tomorrow. You should be there.” I gripped the phone, my hand slowly tightening. “I don’t want to go.” Ethan let out a soft scoff. “Sarah, this is a notification, not a request. Harper wants you there.” “I said I don’t want to go.” My voice was terribly raspy. The cold wind from earlier seemed to have blown into my very bones. A bone-deep chill settled into my core. “Sarah!” Ethan lost his patience, his voice booming angrily. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, you can forget about ever getting your mother’s prescription covered again.” The line went dead. I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, collapsing. 04 Having been by Ethan’s side for five years, I knew his friends well enough. So, when everyone saw me at the party, their eyes were filled with mockery. “How does she still have the nerve to show up? Live as a mistress long enough, and you actually start thinking you’re a phoenix flying to a high branch.” “Some people just don’t know what shame is. Who else would strip naked and crawl into a bed just for a promotion?” I kept my eyes on the ground, pretending not to hear a thing. Someone walked over and pressed his hand down on mine. His sticky breath fanned against my ear. “Sarah, don’t be sad. Now that Mr. Cross is tired of you, you can always come find me. I don’t mind leftovers.” The area erupted in crude, disgusting laughter. I clenched my teeth, stood up, and took a step back to put distance between us. “Please, respect yourself.” He gave me a predatory look, scanning my chest maliciously. “Still acting high and mighty? Believe it or not, I could handle you right here.” My body instantly went rigid. My palms were wet with fear. I looked toward the door over and over, desperately hoping Ethan would walk in. I knew exactly how vicious these people could be. At a moment like this, only Ethan could help me. Faced with his aggressive approach, I slowly backed into a corner. “Sarah, just give in to Mr. Miller. A secondhand good like you is lucky to have anyone want you at all.” They looked at me with greed, disdain, and excitement. Nailing me firmly to a pillar of shame. I had nowhere left to retreat, so I tried to quickly dart around him. But someone stuck their leg out, tripping me. I crashed to the floor. My arm caught a bottle of red wine on the adjacent table. It fell and shattered into pieces. I landed with both hands directly onto the glass shards. My white dress looked like it had been dyed red with blood. The crowd roared with laughter. I struggled to move, trying to stand up, but a sharp, agonizing pain shot up from my ankle. Mark Miller bent down and grabbed my hand: “Sarah, let me…” The door suddenly pushed open. Ethan, with Harper Sterling, arrived fashionably late. He saw me sprawled on the floor, his brow furrowing slightly: “What’s going on here?” “Sarah wasn’t careful walking, tripped and knocked over the wine. Mr. Miller was just helping her up,” someone smoothed over. Ethan’s gaze shifted to the hand Mark Miller had on me, his expression darkening slightly: “Let go.” Mark Miller awkwardly stood up, distancing himself from me: “Mr. Cross, don’t misinterpret this.” Ethan walked over quickly, a faint trace of worry in his eyes. “Ethan, let me help Ms. Jenkins up.” Harper Sterling’s voice was soft and warm, interrupting his motion to bend down. Ethan froze for a second, turned around, and said “Okay.” Harper extended her hand to me. I looked at that smiling face, and it was like I was transported back ten years. The terror from the bottom of my heart made me break out in a cold sweat. “Does Ms. Jenkins not like me helping her?” She looked innocent, a trace of grievance in her voice. Before I could speak. Ethan said with a cold face: “Since she doesn’t want to get up, let her stay on the floor. She’s really embarrassing me.” “Ethan, don’t speak to a woman like that,” Harper chided softly, helping me stand up. “Are you okay?” “Although everyone knows Mr. Miller is a ladies’ man, you didn’t have to ruin yourself like this just to attract his attention.” She was full of faux concern, but her eyes were full of vicious calculation. She viciously pinched the injured area. The pain was unbearable. I violently pushed her away: “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.” Harper staggered back a step and fell backward. I stared straight at her, wishing from the bottom of my heart that she would fall onto that pile of broken glass. Unfortunately, Ethan caught her. He aggressively slapped me across the face: “Harper was kindly trying to help you, and you treat her like this? You don’t know what’s good for you.” My ears were ringing. I felt like I stepped off a ledge, plunging continuously downwards. Ethan’s mouth was opening and closing; he was probably saying more horrible things, but I couldn’t hear him. When I recovered, I only heard the last sentence. “Sarah, apologize to Harper.” I looked at him in disbelief, wanting to defend myself, but not knowing how to say it. Perhaps even if I said it, Ethan wouldn’t believe me. “I am telling you for the last time. Apologize. Otherwise, you know what my methods are.” His voice carried a hidden threat. I curled my lips self-deprecatingly and let out a bitter laugh. “If I don’t apologize, you’ll cut off my mom’s medication, right?” He snorted coldly and said no more. How ridiculous. The person who used to constantly say he wouldn’t let me suffer a single grievance was now making me apologize to the person who bullied me years ago. Just a week ago, he was sitting in front of my mom, peeling an apple for her, swearing that she would definitely live to be a hundred. “Forget it, Ethan. What did Ms. Jenkins do wrong? She just doesn’t like me, that’s all.” Harper’s eyes were downcast, pulling on Ethan’s jacket. “I don’t need your hypocrisy here.” I roared, not knowing where the courage came from. Harper looked frightened by me. Her eyes rimmed with red, she shrunk back and hid behind Ethan. “Don’t be scared,” Ethan comforted her softly, then turned and viciously kicked my knee. “What’s with your attitude?” I was forced to my knees on the ground. “Apologize, Sarah. Don’t push me.” Ethan’s jawline was tight, a storm brewing in his eyes. My heart was dead ash. My body didn’t even seem to feel the pain as much anymore. My mom’s illness could only be treated with a specialty drug developed by Ethan’s company. I couldn’t sacrifice my mom’s life for the sake of my dignity. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I beg for Ms. Sterling’s forgiveness.” I lowered my eyes, my voice broken and shattered. 05 Late at night, I lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling. The rain poured heavily outside the window. I heard the sound of the smart lock opening. Shortly after, the sound of the shower running came from the bathroom. I turned around and closed my eyes. The other side of the bed dipped, and I was pulled into a damp, cold embrace. “Does your face still hurt?” His tone was flat. “We already broke up.” I pushed him away calmly. He let out a light laugh: “Still angry? It was just an apology.” I gripped the bedsheets tightly. “Stop messing around, I’m feeling really uncomfortable right now.” His voice was hoarse, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “Why don’t you go find Harper Sterling?” “After all, I’m not married to her yet. It wouldn’t be good to treat her like this.” My heart was dead ash. I weakly let go of my hands, lifeless like a dead fish. Ethan tossed around for a bit. Seeing me completely unresponsive, he rolled over and turned on the light. “Sarah, do you really have to be such a buzzkill?” He lit a cigarette, his cold gaze sweeping over my uncovered body. “I really don’t know what you’re still unsatisfied with?” “If it weren’t for me, could you live such a decent life now?” I clenched the bedsheets, tears silently flowing down the corners of my eyes and into my ears. He forcefully turned my face toward him. After seeing my red, swollen eyes, he froze. His phone on the nightstand suddenly started buzzing. It was Harper calling. “Ethan, it’s thundering. I’m so scared.” He comforted her with a few soft words, then quickly put his clothes back on. He turned to look down at me from above, his voice freezing cold. “Sarah, you need to seriously reflect on yourself. Don’t just cry at the drop of a hat. Crying doesn’t solve any problems.” He was right, crying doesn’t solve any problems. But no one cries to solve a problem. 06 I stood at the door of the hospital room and took several deep breaths before pushing it open. “Whose mom is this pretty?” I teased with a smile. My mom was sitting in bed knitting a scarf. Seeing me come in, she dropped the yarn and waved at me. “Mommy’s baby is here.” Then she pretended to be angry. “Hmph. You haven’t come to see me in days.” I happily threw myself into her arms. “I was just here two days ago. Didn’t the doctor say you need to rest? What are you busy with now?” She took my hand, showing off to me. “Oh, just lying here is so boring. I’m knitting a scarf for you and Ethan.” “Do you think this color is nice? I specifically picked matching colors for couples.” My eyes stung with sourness, my hand slowly brushing over the scarf. “It’s beautiful.” “Baby, what’s wrong?” My mom noticed my mood was off and asked with concern, “Did you have a fight with Ethan?” “No.” I sniffled. “I just feel that having Mom by my side is so nice.” “Silly child.” My mom patted my shoulder gently. “Mom only has one wish in this life, and that is for you to be happy and safe. Mom can’t be with you for your whole life. You still have to walk your future path yourself. Ethan is a man you can trust. When two people are together, there will always be unpleasant times, but as long as you talk it out, it’ll be fine.” “I know, Mom. Don’t worry, Ethan and I… are very good.” I lowered my eyes to hide my emotions. “That’s good.” My mom nodded in relief. “Some other day, when he’s not busy, you should come with him to… cough cough cough…” My mom suddenly started coughing, unable to catch her breath, her mouth full of fresh blood. “Doctor! Doctor!” I frantically pressed the call button. A massive panic swept over me. 07 After emergency resuscitation, my mom was temporarily out of danger. I stopped the attending physician, Dr. Lee. “My mom’s condition has been very stable these past few years. What happened today?” Dr. Lee looked at me with a very difficult expression: “Ms. Jenkins, you should probably go talk to Mr. Cross.” “What do you mean?” “Mr. Cross stopped your mother’s medication. If this happens again, I’m afraid your mother won’t make it. You must hurry.” My heart plummeted to the bottom of my stomach. I frantically dialed Ethan’s number, but it showed that his phone was off. I called over twenty times in a row, but it was all the same result. I knew this was his punishment for me not cooperating last night. He was waiting for me to go beg him. I looked in many places—the company, his house, a private club, the golf course. He wasn’t at any of them. I collapsed helplessly in front of my car. Finally, the butler at the villa couldn’t stand it anymore and told me Ethan’s whereabouts. I rushed to book the next flight to the Bahamas. 08 When Harper Sterling saw me for the first time, her eyes were full of surprise. “Ms. Jenkins? Why are you here?” Ethan, on the other hand, was not surprised at all by my arrival. I cut straight to the chase: “Mr. Cross, my mom, she…” Ethan let out a light tsk, raised his eyebrows, and pulled Harper close by her waist. “I’m busy right now.” I took a deep breath: “Then when will you have time?” “Depends on my mood.” He casually propped his chin on his hand, looking down to coax Harper. “Let’s go watch the sunset, okay?” “I knew you were the best, Ethan.” Harper’s face flushed, and she kissed him shyly. I turned to leave, but Ethan called out to me. “Stand right there. Don’t move.” 09 The night grew deeper. A few stars popped up in the sky. Harper’s coquettish laughter continuously drifted out from the room. I looked down at the hibiscus flowers nearby. There were fewer blooms this year compared to previous years. During the five years I was with Ethan, he would bring me here every winter. The same hotel, the same room. The pool, the lounge chairs, the swings, the sandy beach. Every spot here witnessed the happiness we once shared. He really knew how to find new ways to humiliate me. But it didn’t matter. As long as my mom could live, I would do anything. The door was pushed open from the inside. I looked up, then lowered my eyes again. “Sarah, you really are as spineless as ever.” She smiled and walked up to me, the cigarette butt between her fingers glowing faintly. The terror that had vanished from my heart for so long drilled back into my brain. In a daze, I was back in my high school days. It was a cigarette butt just like this. They brazenly used me as an ashtray. Ash was flicked into my mouth; cigarette butts were pressed against my chest. I was forced into an abandoned art room. Harper said that as long as I crawled like a dog, she wouldn’t go cause trouble at my mom’s food stall. Day after day. For all three years of high school—the years that should have been my brightest—I lived in an endless hell. My knee was suddenly kicked. Harper leaned close to my ear, her voice like a demon’s whisper: “Don’t be afraid. Your life will be even more miserable from now on.” I looked up, staring intently into her eyes, and asked the question I had wanted to ask for a long time. “Why? Why do you hate me so much?” She laughed flamboyantly: “Sarah, you’re still so naive. Hating someone doesn’t require a reason, just like loving someone doesn’t require a reason. I hated you from the first time I saw you. Everything you want to protect, I want to take away, including your mother.” Alarm bells went off in my head. A moment later, Dr. Lee’s call came through. “Ms. Jenkins, your mother needs her medication immediately, or else…” I didn’t have time to hear the rest of the sentence. I swiftly pulled open the room door. “Ethan Cross, come out. I’m begging you, restore my mom’s medication.” He was woken up by me, his eyebrows showing impatience. Then he quickly got up and rushed towards me. A sliver of hope ignited in my heart. But it was quickly extinguished. “Harper, what’s wrong? Sarah, what did you do to her?” He pushed me away angrily and picked up Harper, who was unconscious behind me. I anxiously explained: “I didn’t! She’s faking it! Ethan, I beg you, call the hospital. My mom, if she doesn’t get that medicine, she’ll die.” He snorted coldly: “Sarah, you really will stop at nothing. To get my attention, you’d even curse your own mother to die. Shameless and cheap.” “If anything happens to Harper, I won’t let you off the hook.” He rushed out frantically. I knelt on the floor, pulling on his pant leg. “Everything I’m saying is true. Making a phone call won’t take much time. Ethan, as long as you make the call, even if you want me to use my life to apologize to Harper, I’m willing.” “Get lost.” Ethan kicked me hard in the chest. “It’s truly pathetic that your mother has a daughter like you.”

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During my pre-pregnancy checkup, the female ultrasound tech suddenly let out a loud, disgusted “tsk.” “You’ve got a scar on your lower abdomen. Have you had an abortion before?” “Your cervix shows signs of severe inflammation. Is your private life a mess?” “You’ve probably even had reconstructive surgery to fake your virginity, haven’t you?” Then, without listening to a word of my defense, she looked right at my husband: “You couldn’t get me, so you settled for this used goods?” “Aren’t you afraid of raising someone else’s kid?” I didn’t even have a chance to tell her. Because I was afraid I’d forget the doctor’s instructions, I had my phone’s voice recorder running the entire time… 01 I had been married to Arthur for a year, and we were planning to have a baby. To prepare for our future child, I booked an appointment at the best private hospital in the city for a comprehensive pre-pregnancy checkup. Arthur was excited the entire drive there, holding my hand tightly in his. “Chloe, do you think our baby will look more like you or more like me? “It’d be best if they have your eyes, bright and sparkling, smiling like little crescent moons. And my nose, high and straight. “We need to get the nursery ready ahead of time, and all those little clothes and shoes, we have to use the best quality…” I listened with a smile, feeling very satisfied. Arthur was the husband I had carefully chosen. He came from an ordinary background, but he was honest, good-looking, and incredibly attentive to me. Having grown up around parents who navigated the cutthroat corporate world, I was used to deceit and had no interest in so-called “matching social status” or “power couple” marriages. I just wanted to find a simple, clean guy to live a peaceful, stable life with. And I had more than enough money to maintain that stable life. I used my connections to get him a cushy job at a friend’s company—easy work, no overtime. Because I loved his content and grounded nature, I carefully protected his pride. I never threw the “I support you” fact in his face, nor did I ever mention our financial arrangement to outsiders. The female ultrasound tech was named Dr. Sarah Davis. She looked to be in her early thirties but was already an attending physician. She wore a crisp white coat, her hair pulled back into a strict bun, and gold-rimmed glasses. The gaze behind those lenses exuded an aloof, judgmental arrogance that kept people at a distance. From the moment we walked in, her eyes never left Arthur. And Arthur, the moment he saw her, visibly stiffened, his eyes darting away evasively. My heart gave a slight jolt, but I didn’t show a hint of suspicion on my face. “Hello, Dr. Davis. Thank you for seeing us.” I spoke softly, trying to ease the slightly weird atmosphere. Dr. Davis’s gaze finally shifted from Arthur to my face, her eyes filled with undisguised scrutiny. She didn’t respond, merely pointing coldly to the examination table behind the curtain. “Lie down. Pants down to your knees, shirt pulled up.” Her tone was stiff, like a command, completely lacking the bedside manner a doctor should have. Arthur seemed a bit embarrassed and tried to say something, but I stopped him with a look. I signaled for him not to worry, then quietly pressed the record button on my phone. After all, medical jargon can be confusing, and I was afraid I wouldn’t remember the precautions the doctor might give later. I lay down as instructed. The moment the cold ultrasound gel touched my skin, I couldn’t help but flinch. Then, the ultrasound wand was pressed down. Hard. With a vindictive force, pressing and moving forcefully across my flat stomach. It wasn’t gentle at all, bringing waves of dull, aching pain. I frowned in pain but didn’t make a sound. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic beep of the machine. The atmosphere was terrifyingly oppressive. Just then, Dr. Davis suddenly let out a loud, sharp “tsk.” The sound was sharp and clear, filled with disgust and contempt, like a needle precisely popping the dead silence. I saw Arthur’s face change instantly. He anxiously took a step forward. “Dr. Davis, what’s wrong? Is there a problem with my wife’s health?” 02 Dr. Davis ignored him. The wand pressed repeatedly against a specific spot on my lower abdomen, the pressure increasing. She stared at the screen, but a malicious sneer curled on her lips. Her voice, neither loud nor soft, was perfectly clear for both of us to hear. “You’ve got a scar on your lower abdomen. Have you had an abortion before?” Her words were like a bomb dropping in the small ultrasound room. Before I could even react, Arthur was already looking at me in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief. I knew what she was talking about. On my lower abdomen, there was indeed a very, very faint scar. That was from when I participated in a junior fencing tournament abroad as a teenager and accidentally got scratched by the blunt tip of an opponent’s foil. The wound wasn’t deep, but it left a light pink mark. I had mentioned it to Arthur in passing, but he probably forgot. Or rather, presented with the “authoritative interpretation” of an OB/GYN, he was more willing to believe the latter. My heart ran cold. I opened my mouth to explain, but Dr. Davis gave me no chance. The wand in her hand continued moving downward, her movements rough. The discomfort made me want to flee the examination table immediately. Her voice sounded again, even more acerbic and vicious than before. “Oh, your cervix also shows signs of severe inflammation. Tsk tsk, sister, is your private life a mess?” The words “severe inflammation” felt like a bucket of dirty water thrown right in my face. Arthur’s face had gone from shocked to bewildered. He looked at me, then at Dr. Davis, his lips moving, but not knowing what to say. After all, facing him was a “professional” doctor. And I was just a patient she had “diagnosed” with problems. Dr. Davis seemed very satisfied with Arthur’s reaction. She glanced at me contemptuously, as if admiring her own masterpiece. The movement of her hand finally stopped, but her mouth didn’t. “Looking at your age, you’re still so tight. You must have spent a lot of effort, huh? “You’ve probably even had reconstructive surgery to fake your virginity. “What a pity. You can fool a man, but you can’t fool my eyes.” Three rapid-fire strikes, each one lethal. These three accusations were enough to destroy any woman’s reputation and marriage. “Doctor.” Arthur spoke with difficulty, his voice dry. “Are you… are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? Chloe isn’t that kind of person…” Dr. Davis finally removed the wand from my body and slowly, deliberately wiped her hands with a paper towel. Then, she turned around, no longer looking at me, but looking completely, condescendingly at Arthur. She took off her glasses, revealing eyes filled with resentment. “Arthur, long time no see. You’ve really moved up in the world, haven’t you?” Her voice was dripping with bitterness. “You couldn’t get me, so you got desperate and picked up this ‘used goods’ that who knows how many men have run through? “Look at her, head to toe in designer brands. Now that you have money, you know how to deck out your new catch in gold and silver? “Did you forget when we were together, we couldn’t even afford a decent dinner at a nice restaurant? “I truly feel sorry for myself. How could I have ever fallen for a heartless thing like you!” By the end, she even had a hint of a sob in her voice, As if she were the deeply devoted, wronged victim. 03 And I, the “used goods” she was verbally attacking with such venom… Just sat up quietly and slowly, methodically adjusted my clothes. So that was it. It all made sense now. This Dr. Sarah Davis was Arthur’s ex-girlfriend. A bitter ex who, thinking her former boyfriend had struck it rich, couldn’t handle the jealousy and ran over to sow discord and try to ruin our marriage. Every word she said implied that Arthur had money now and had forgotten his old love. Unfortunately, she got one fundamental fact wrong. In our family, the one with the money was me. Arthur was just a man I had chosen, a guy with great “soft and hard skills” who was willing to marry into my lifestyle and take care of me at home. Watching Dr. Davis pouring her heart out to Arthur, Painting herself as a woman hurt by love who couldn’t bear to see her ex-boyfriend deceived, And Arthur… The man I always thought was honest and grounded… Was currently looking at her with a face full of guilt, an expression that said “I’m sorry you suffered.” My heart sank even further. I spoke up, shattering the tragic “rekindled romance” atmosphere between the two of them. “Dr. Davis, are you done?” Dr. Davis froze for a second, probably not expecting me to still be so calm. She glared at me fiercely: “A dirty woman like you has no right to speak!” Recklessly slandering a patient—is this her professional ethics as a doctor? I was just about to question her, but Arthur hurriedly cut me off. “Never mind, never mind, honey. Dr. Davis is just doing her job. Let’s not make a fuss.” I looked at him in astonishment, Wondering if he even knew who his wife actually was. Seeing this, Dr. Davis, thinking I really listened to Arthur’s every word, raised her chin even more smugly. “A gold digger like you who relies on men for everything should keep your mouth shut. Careful, or I’ll expose your messy private life and make sure you can’t hook a single one.” I looked at Arthur. His face wasn’t looking good, but his gaze was fixed on the ultrasound machine. It was obvious that his resentment was clearly born out of suspicion towards me, Not directed at Dr. Davis. But that scar on my stomach was so thin and shallow, Let alone giving birth, a Barbie doll couldn’t even fit through it. Moreover, the term “severe inflammation” for what she described had long been phased out by the medical community. It’s now called “cervical ectropion,” which is a perfectly normal physiological phenomenon and has absolutely nothing to do with one’s private life. Did Dr. Davis, this “expert,” not even know this basic common knowledge? I couldn’t help but wave my phone, the screen still lit up, and let out a mocking laugh. “Dr. Davis, the ‘diagnosis’ you just gave me… I recorded it all right here. “Fabricating facts, malicious slander, destroying someone’s reputation, and using your position to humiliate a patient. “Aren’t you afraid of being reported?” Hearing this, before Dr. Davis could even react, Arthur panicked first. He fake-scolded Dr. Davis: “Stop trying to cause trouble! I believe in my wife’s character.” Then he grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me outside. “Chloe, let’s go. This hospital is no good. We’ll find another one!” But his nervous demeanor wasn’t to protect me at all; it was to prevent Dr. Davis from getting reported. Because the hand gripping my wrist had absolutely no gentleness; he was pulling me so hard it hurt. And behind me, Dr. Davis was still provoking me. “You have a scar on your stomach. As a doctor, what’s wrong with raising reasonable suspicions? “Your cervix isn’t healthy either, that’s a fact. Why can’t I say it? “The hospital director is my uncle. Report me? Go ahead! “Let’s see if the rumors about you spread faster, or if my disciplinary action comes down first.” I wanted to turn back and continue arguing with her, but Arthur didn’t give me the chance. He practically dragged me all the way to the parking lot. 04 It wasn’t until we sat in the car that Arthur finally noticed my bright red wrist and ashen face. He spoke guiltily, a hint of cautious fawning in his voice. “Chloe, are you okay! “I’m so sorry. I was so afraid you’d get bullied, I didn’t notice for a second. “Sarah… she just has that awful temper. She speaks without thinking. I apologize on her behalf.” I watched him quietly, scrutinizing this man from head to toe. His inner ugliness was showing on his face. He looked uglier. When he thought I was going to throw a tantrum, I just quietly buckled my seatbelt and smoothed my hair in the rearview mirror. The woman in the mirror still looked the same. He truly was becoming less and less worthy of me. “Apologize? Why apologize? Didn’t you say it yourself? Dr. Davis was just doing her job.” I turned my head and looked at him, my gaze as clear and open as a spring. “Arthur, I’m not angry.” After all, I never liked venting emotions instead of solving problems. But the more I said this, the worse Arthur’s expression became, and the more anxious and uneasy he felt. “Chloe, don’t be like this…” He tried to explain: “I was in a rush to pull you away because I wanted to look at the big picture. I didn’t want to make an ugly scene at the hospital. “You know me, I’m just… I’m just not good at handling conflict. “Besides, I couldn’t possibly doubt you just because someone else said a few words. Don’t you even have that much confidence in yourself?” “I know.” I nodded understandingly, as if completely convinced by him. “You’re just too honest and grounded, always trying to keep the peace. It’s okay, I understand.” He opened his mouth, but realized that any explanation would seem pale and powerless in front of me. Ultimately, he could only dejectedly start the car. 05 From that day on, everything between us changed. He would only get into bed after I fell asleep, and quietly leave before I woke up. The nights that used to be filled with endless conversation were now filled with a dead silence. I noticed all of this, but I said nothing, and was even too lazy to argue with him. When a man starts doubting you, every word you say can become new “evidence” in his eyes. Explaining only becomes covering up. I still wore exquisite makeup, dressed appropriately, and went out with a bright smile every day. Only, when he was showering, I would lock the study door and calmly consult the best divorce lawyers online. I had to admit, although Dr. Davis’s tactics were clumsy, they were indeed effective. She understood Arthur too well, understood the inferiority and paranoia in his bones. She started quietly sowing seeds in our shared social circle. First, it was Arthur’s best friend Mark’s wife, who asked me indirectly on WhatsApp: [Chloe, is Arthur under a lot of pressure lately?] [I noticed he closed his Instagram. Did you guys… have a fight?] Next, when I went to a college reunion with him, a female classmate seemingly casually pulled me aside and said: “Chloe, you’re so lucky. Arthur is so good to you. “But you know men, sometimes they still need a little extra attention. Especially… things like ex-girlfriends can easily make their minds wander.” I felt their strange gazes on me, a mix of sympathy, pity, and a barely noticeable hint of disdain. They looked at me as if looking at a woman using a glamorous exterior to hide a sordid interior. One evening, I finished my work early and went home. I quietly opened the front door, only to hear him on the balcony, talking on the phone. His voice was very low, but loud enough for me to hear clearly. On the other end of the line was Mark’s loud, boisterous voice. “Arthur, I’m telling you, you’re just too soft-hearted! What are you keeping a woman like that around for? “Sarah told me everything. The ultrasound showed it all! It’s a mess! You better wise up!” My footsteps stopped. I leaned against the doorframe, listening quietly. Arthur sighed, his voice full of exhaustion and grievance. “I… I don’t know what to do either. “After all, she’s the daughter of a rich family. It’s normal for them to play around. “Last time… last time I even saw a bottle of Vagisil in the bathroom. “Tell me, if she wasn’t messing around outside, why would she suddenly get a feminine infection?” Vagisil? I almost laughed out loud. That was something I bought at the pharmacy for daily cleansing a while ago when I was feeling a bit uncomfortable during my period. I didn’t expect this to also become evidence of his guilt against me. Truly, if you want to condemn someone, you can always trump up a charge. Mark’s voice grew louder, filled with the righteous indignation of a brother. “Fuck! Seriously? Isn’t that just an STD?! “Arthur, listen to me. You absolutely cannot keep a woman like this! So what if she has money? She’s dirty! “Hurry up and divorce her! Get a lawyer and make her leave with nothing! “Get all her money into your hands, and then we’ll find a clean, good girl! We all support you!” Then, I heard him agree with absolute certainty: “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve suspected she had someone on the side for a long time, otherwise why would she always refuse to be intimate with me. “Okay, I know what to do.”

Ten years after high school graduation, an old photo of me and my first love went viral. In the picture, we’re wearing our blue and white school jackets, fingers locked together, smiling radiantly at the camera. The internet started rooting for us immediately, launching a massive search to find us. They were disappointed to discover we had broken up years ago. He became the youngest hotshot on Wall Street. I was forced to move back to my dying rust-belt hometown, working to pay off debts, just another person drowning in the grind of daily life. Aside from a single high school reunion, our paths were never supposed to cross again. That same night, an anonymous question trended: “How is your high school sweetheart doing now?” A username I knew all too well caught my eye. His answer was a single, cold line: “Knowing she’s miserable makes me feel a whole lot better.” 01 I stared at those words for a long time. I was the one who helped Austin set up that account back in the day. I even picked the username. The profile picture was still the one I chose—a photo of our hands showing off the matching promise rings we used to wear. The all-seeing eyes of the internet quickly connected the dots, identifying him and boosting his comment to the top. “Holy shit, the guy from the photo actually showed up.” “Damn, dude, aren’t you a super successful big shot now? This seems a little petty.” “I thought you guys had an amicable breakup? Why do you sound like deadly enemies?” Austin didn’t reply again. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain a relationship that was dead and buried. I didn’t leave a comment, either. I just clutched my phone and quietly gave his answer a ‘like.’ 02 The photo stayed in the trending topics longer than anyone expected. A media outlet reached out, wanting to do a quick interview with me. Audio only, no face, just three questions. But they offered two thousand dollars. I couldn’t afford to say no. “How did you feel when you saw that old photo?” the female host asked gently. “Do you have any regrets?” “No,” I said honestly. If that old photo hadn’t suddenly gone viral, I hadn’t thought about the name Austin Miller in a very long time. The boy I loved as a teenager… No matter how unforgettable it felt then, it’s hard to remember forever. Not when I’m working fourteen-hour days, slaving away for a paycheck just to survive. I don’t have time for nostalgia. “What was the specific reason for the breakup?” I was silent for a moment. “I chose my future over him.” The host paused, then asked instinctively, “Do you regret it?” I shook my head, my voice firm. “I don’t.” “Last question,” the host said, her voice softer now. “You both attended your high school reunion last year.” “Did you talk to each other?” My heart stuttered. 03 Austin had come back to town last year. It coincided with our high school’s centennial celebration. He was invited as a guest of honor and casually donated five million dollars. The reunion was organized around that event. Halfway through the dinner, Austin pushed open the door and walked in. The arrival of the newly minted billionaire sent the private dining room into a frenzy. I sat in the corner, feeling like I was on a bed of nails. Without the school jacket, his teenage vibe had mostly faded. He stood there, perfectly poised, a faint smile playing on his lips as his calm gaze swept across everyone in the room. Impossible to read. Austin had other plans that night, so he didn’t stay long. He had a few courtesy drinks, never once glancing my way, paid the entire bill, and left. The party broke up early. I found my rusty moped parked outside, planning to log on and deliver a few food orders before calling it a night. It started pouring, a massive downpour. Trying to rush a delivery for a superstore before the deadline, I made a left turn at a yellow light and collided with a luxury car going straight. When I saw the Bentley emblem, my stomach dropped. The door opened. Austin stepped out, holding an umbrella. “How are you driving? This is a green light, you’re turning left, which means you’re totally at fault. Even a scratch on a car this expensive means sending it back to the factory for a full body job, millions in repair costs…” The driver, seeing the scratched paint, was absolutely frantic to shift the blame. A few steps away, Austin was leaning lazily against the car, impeccably dressed, his expression cold. His eyes swept over me from time to time, as emotionless as a stagnant well. I apologized, my voice barely a whisper. I kept my head down, burying my last shred of self-respect beneath the heavy, oversized helmet. “What’s going on?” A pleasant female voice hit my ears. There was actually a third person in the car. A woman jumped out, holding up her dress. Seeing my pathetic, rain-soaked state, she frowned impatiently. “Mr. Miller, forget it. Let’s not waste time on this small stuff.” Austin didn’t say anything. He stood there silently, eyes cast down, impossible to tell what he was thinking. The woman’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “You’re supposed to take me to meet your parents tonight. If this drags on, what about your parents?” There was only the clear sound of the rain. Then, I thought I heard someone let out a short, sharp laugh. Austin looked at me, his tone cold and mocking. “Yeah. What about them?” 04 I had a moment of total dissociation. What about them? What do I do? In the past, I was always the one asking Austin those questions. What do I do if I can’t finish this essay? What if I fail this test? What if the gas station runs out of Slushies? Austin would just laugh, giving my forehead a sharp, ruthless flick with his finger. “Maya, could you even survive a single day without me?” It seemed like I couldn’t. Austin and I had met in kindergarten; we had never been apart. Whenever things got tough, my first instinct was always to find him. He’d figure it out for me in the end, anyway. Right up until we broke up. Before that, I had never even tied my own shoes. Austin used to jokingly call himself my “personal manservant.” Our classmates teased that I was a charm dangling off Austin’s backpack. He took care of me wherever he went. Austin never denied it. He would just grasp my hand within his, looking down, idly flipping it over and over, playing with my fingers. Sometimes, thinking of something, he would let out a soft sigh. “Maya, if we ever separate.” “I’m the one who won’t be able to survive.” 05 The woman’s name was Sarah. She was Austin’s secretary, and she had been working her tail off at his side for years. Thanks to her, Austin not only didn’t make me pay for the damage, but he also had the driver take me to the hospital for a checkup. I let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. I have a younger sister who just started middle school. It’s a demanding age, a time that requires a lot of money. My mom’s health isn’t good; she’s always in and out of the hospital. Over the years, our savings have dwindled to almost nothing. Taking on debt right now would have been the absolute breaking point for us. While I was at the hospital waiting for the exam results. I overheard the driver gossiping on the phone with a friend: “Yeah, Mr. Miller took Secretary Sarah back to his hometown to meet his parents.” “They started as colleagues, and soon she might be the Mrs… Ah, well, you gotta admit some people are just born lucky. They both came from nothing, but she’s about to marry into money.” “It’s pretty sudden, though. It’s obvious she’s been into Mr. Miller for years, but he’s never had eyes for anyone else because of that ‘lost love’ of his… Guess he finally accepted her.” “Yeah, maybe he finally let go.” I got home really late that night. Exhausted, I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. And I dreamed. I dreamed of the summer right after high school graduation. The college acceptance letters had come. Mine was for D-State. It was on the opposite coast from the school Austin was attending, separated by thousands of miles. Getting into that specific top-tier university had been our shared goal since the start of senior year. Our SAT scores were only separated by a few points. If nothing unexpected had happened, we should have been going to the same place. “How did this happen, Maya?” Austin’s eyes were blood-red, forcing a faint, painful smile. “This had to be a mistake, right? It doesn’t matter. I’ll retake my exams and go to D-State next year. Being a grade behind you is better than being apart for four years.” How could it be a mistake? We had checked and double-checked each other’s applications, terrified that a wrong choice would pull us apart. I pulled my hand away from his, taking a few steps back. “Stop lying to yourself.” My voice was calm, almost cruel in contrast to his obvious agony. “I changed my choice on purpose.” In my peripheral vision, I saw his lean frame go rigid, his face turning ghostly white. “Why?” “So I could be away from you.” “Austin, I only got close to you so you would help me study. I used you.” “The guy I actually like is the president of the math club. He got accepted to D-State, and we’re going together. I lied to you until the very end because I was scared you’d get obsessed and try to apply there, too.” “Austin, I’m begging you. Don’t retake your exams for me. Just leave me alone.” I cast my eyes downward. “I really don’t love you.” 06 The interview video was released soon after. Probably because it lacked any real scandalous gossip, it didn’t generate nearly as much heat as the old photo. But the two thousand dollars was in my account, feeling like easy money. I fantasized about using it for a full physical checkup, maybe even a little trip. But reality was quick to crash down on me. My sister’s homeroom teacher called. She had gotten into a fight with a classmate at school. When I rushed to the hospital, I realized how serious it was. It was a boy whose eye had been scratched. The teacher said he had been inciting other students to isolate my sister, bullying her with cruel words for weeks. My sister finally snapped and lost her temper, trying to fight back. Although she was the victim, she was the one who initiated the physical violence. The tip of her pencil had scratched the boy’s right eyeball. If it wasn’t treated perfectly, it could permanently affect his vision. What shocked me even more… Sarah was the boy’s older sister. She was clutching her crying brother, her face cold as stone. “This isn’t a matter of money.” “This is aggravated assault. Your sister is over fourteen; she can be tried as a juvenile.” “If our Joey’s eye has permanent damage, we will make sure your sister pays the price.” Every word felt like a mountain crushing down on me. My mom was even more terrified, acting hysterical. She cried, physically forcing me to my knees to beg for mercy. Amidst the chaos. I felt my mother’s hands on my shoulders, forcing me down. The moment my knees were about to hit the cold floor. Someone grabbed my arms with a powerful, dominant grip, hauling me back to my feet. 07 Austin had brought in the best eye surgeon in the country. After the surgery, Joey’s eye was mostly fine, and they accepted our compensation package. When everything was finalized, I let out a massive sigh of relief. Austin was out in the hallway, making a phone call. Seeing me approach, he hung up, his face expressionless. “Need something?” The sound of water flowed from the sink as he washed his hands. I had a moment of dissociation. I suddenly remembered a night during senior year. I went to the school washroom, and Austin just happened to be there. Seeing me, he smiled. We were alone. He leaned in and kissed me, quickly and desperately. Ten years have passed. That fleeting sensation of his lips on mine seemed to rush back into my heart at this very moment. I forced a smile and said sincerely, “Thank you.” “You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you.” His eyes were downcast, his tone harsh. “Oh,” I replied. My eyes dropped to his hands and noticed something hanging from his phone case. It was a little stuffed cotton rabbit. I blinked. I had made that by hand when we were kids and given it to him as a silly little gift. He used to hang it from his backpack and refused to change it, even when it got dirty. But when we broke up, he had ruthlessly torn it off and thrown it away right in front of my face. The little rabbit had been torn open, its cotton stuffing spilling out. But now. The place that had been torn open was clumsily sewn back together with thick thread. “Did… did you sew that back together?” I raised my eyes to meet his. Austin awkwardly turned his face away. He looked down for a few seconds, then a slow, mocking sneer curled onto his lips. “What answer are you hoping to hear, Maya?”

For our one-year contract marriage anniversary, my actor husband surprisingly gifted me an exclusive, haute couture necklace. A month later, his “first love” and ex-girlfriend wore the exact same one. He had told me tenderly, “You deserve the best.” Like a fool, I actually posted a picture of it online to show off. Ten minutes later, his younger sister blew up my comments section. “A knockoff daring to show off? Do you really think you’re the main chick now?” “My brother only has Mia in his heart! You’re just a shield. If you know what’s good for you, give that necklace back to the rightful owner.” “And be a good girl and hand over your endorsement deals, or my brother will have you walking out of this marriage with absolutely nothing!” Clicking on her profile, it was flooded with shippers swooning over “My brother and Mia are true love” and “Get lost, fake substitute.” I let out a scoff. “A single necklace? I own the entire brand. You’re telling me I’m wearing a knockoff?” “He looks for a substitute, you play the accomplice. Since you two love acting so much, how about I pull my investments and let you both go unemployed, so you can go play the tragic, star-crossed lovers for real!” 01 Holding the necklace, an indescribable emotion swelled in my chest. This piece, Tear of the Stars, was something I personally designed a month ago. As soon as it was released, my husband, Liam Cross, bought it. Now it was my anniversary gift. I picked up my phone and snapped a photo of it. The caption was simple: “Received a gift from hubby. Feeling good.” Ten minutes later, my phone pinged. I clicked it open; my comments section had already exploded. Chloe Cross’s avatar was at the very top, followed by a long string of text. “A knockoff daring to show off? Do you really think you’re the main chick now? My brother only has Mia in his heart!” “You’re just a shield. If you know what’s good for you, give that necklace back to the rightful owner. And be a good girl and hand over your endorsement deals, or my brother will have you walking out of this marriage with absolutely nothing!” I froze for a second. A knockoff? I’m wearing a necklace I designed myself, and someone is calling it a fake? Now this was getting interesting. I clicked on Chloe’s profile, wanting to see what other brilliant insights she had. As soon as it opened, the screen was filled with photos of her, Liam, and Mia. Around Mia’s neck was the exact same necklace I had in front of me. “My brother and Mia are true love.” “Get lost, fake substitute.” “Once Mia makes her comeback, a certain someone should just roll away.” I scrolled through a few more, finding it increasingly absurd. Who did this little brat think she was? Cupid? Or did she think she was Liam’s manager? I went back to my own post and replied directly to Chloe. “He looks for a substitute, you play the accomplice. Since you two love acting so much, how about I pull my investments and let you both go unemployed, so you can go play the tragic, star-crossed lovers for real!” As soon as I posted that, my phone rang immediately. It was a call from Liam. I answered it. Before I could even speak, I heard Mia’s voice on the other end. “Liam, don’t blame Nora. She probably didn’t know…” Liam hurriedly hung up the phone, followed immediately by a text message. “Chloe is young and immature. Don’t stoop to her level. Delete the post first, it’s a bad look.” I looked at that message and suddenly wanted to laugh. Young and immature? Chloe is in her twenties; how is that young? Furthermore, she was pointing her finger at my nose in my own comments section, calling my necklace a fake and demanding I give it back to Mia. What was his reaction? Telling me to delete the post. Telling me not to stoop to her level. Telling me to smooth things over. And what about Mia? That sentence she said over the phone sounded like she was trying to explain something for me. But thinking about it carefully, she said, “She probably didn’t know.” Didn’t know what? Didn’t know that this necklace was “generously” yielded to me by Mia? Or didn’t know that I, Nora Vance, didn’t even have the right to wear a necklace I designed myself in this house? I called Liam right back. This time, it was a FaceTime call. When Liam answered, he was visibly panicked. He quickly angled the camera away, so I could only see the ceiling. “Nora, listen to my explanation…” “No need to explain.” I cut him off. “Have Chloe delete her comment and apologize to me. Otherwise, she can forget about ever touching any L&W jewelry for the rest of her life.” The other end of the line was quiet for a few seconds. Then Liam’s voice came through, carrying a hint of probing. “Nora, don’t joke around…” “When have I ever joked with you?” I stared at the ceiling on the screen, my tone terrifyingly calm. “Liam, I’m giving you one hour. Make your sister publicly apologize and admit she was wrong.” “Otherwise, do you think losing endorsement deals is the only thing I can make you lose?” With that, I hung up the phone directly. My phone was quiet for a few minutes, then started vibrating wildly. Liam’s calls came in one after another. I declined all of them. 02 I set my phone aside and continued with my work. An hour passed. No news. Two hours passed. Still nothing. As the third hour was about to end, the door lock clicked. Liam was back, carrying takeout from my favorite dim sum place. As he took off his shoes in the entryway, his movements were careful, as if afraid of waking me. “Nora, are you asleep?” I looked up from the sofa. “No, I’m working.” He walked over and placed the takeout on the coffee table. “I brought you a late-night snack. Your favorite shrimp dumplings and sticky rice.” I didn’t move. Liam looked slightly annoyed, as if recalling something. “Are you jealous? That necklace… I only asked Mia to try it on for sizing. It didn’t mean anything else. How was I supposed to know Chloe would take a picture of it, and that you would see it?” I impatiently cut him off. “Where is Chloe’s apology?” Liam sat down across from me, looking exhausted. “Nora, Chloe was indeed wrong, and I’ve already scolded her.” “You scolded her?” I looked at him. “I wanted a public apology.” “She’s still young. Making her apologize publicly would have a huge impact on her reputation.” Liam reached out to touch my hand, but I dodged him. “Besides, blowing this out of proportion isn’t good for anyone. The people online don’t know the truth. If someone with bad intentions uses this, your reputation will suffer too.” I finally understood. He never intended to make Chloe apologize. He came back just to persuade me to let it go. “Liam, do you know why I gave you an ultimatum?” He froze for a moment. “Because I wanted to see who was more important in your heart, me or your sister.” “Now I know.” I stood up, ready to head to the bedroom. Liam hurriedly followed me. “Nora, Mia is facing some difficulties lately. Her agency wants her to take on some endorsements to tide her over.” I stopped in my tracks. “And?” “I was thinking, since you are already Mrs. Cross, with status and position, the L&W endorsement might not be that important to you.” Liam’s voice was very soft, probing. “But for Mia, it could be a turning point in her career.” L&W is a company I founded privately. Following the principle of saving money, I didn’t want to hire other celebrities for endorsements. No one knew I was a shareholder in this company; they only knew me as a little-known, small-time model who somehow snagged a major jewelry brand endorsement. I turned around and looked at Liam. “So what you’re saying is, you want me to give the L&W endorsement to Mia?” “It’s not ‘give,’ it’s…” he searched for the right words, “it’s doing me a favor, and considering it a kind of compensation to her.” “Compensation?” I laughed. “What do I need to compensate her for?” “Nora, you know about my past with Mia. When we broke up, I really owed her a lot.” Liam reached out to hold my hand. “Now that I have the ability, if I can help her out, I can finally put this matter to rest.” I pulled my hand back. “Put this matter to rest? Liam, when we got married, was that in our vows?” A look of awkwardness flashed across his face. “Nora, don’t be like this. We are husband and wife; we should understand each other.” “Understand each other?” “Understand what? Understand that you want to give your wife’s things to your ex-girlfriend, is that it?” 03 I turned around, walked into the bedroom, and locked the door. Through the door, I heard Liam sighing outside. Over the next two days, all sorts of PR articles started appearing online. “Mia Set to Become Global Ambassador for L&W, Career Sees a Second Spring” “Where is the Love Triangle Heading? Insiders Reveal Liam and Mia Never Truly Broke Up” “Liam and Mia’s Unresolved Love Story: Netizens Say ‘We’re Shipping It’” I scrolled through these articles. Every single one was written as if it were absolute fact. As if the L&W endorsement was already set in stone for Mia. There were even gossip accounts analyzing how Mia’s value would multiply after taking the L&W endorsement. On the evening of the third day, Liam called me again. “Nora, I’ve made reservations at a restaurant for tomorrow night.” I was in the middle of a video conference and signaled my assistant to pause. “Which restaurant?” “The one we usually go to. I invited Mia and Chloe. I hope you can come too.” Liam’s voice sounded very tired. “Let’s sit down and have a good talk to resolve this peacefully.” “Resolve this peacefully?” I leaned back in my chair. “Liam, given the current situation, what do you think I need to discuss with them?” “Nora, do me this one favor, please?” His voice held a pleading tone. “Chloe is indeed young and arrogant, speaking without thinking. But she also cares about me and doesn’t want to see me caught in the middle.” “As for Mia, she has never actively sought to cause you any trouble. This whole incident has been harder on her than anyone else.” Listening to his words, I suddenly found it highly amusing. “So, the dinner tomorrow is meant for me to hand the endorsement contract to Mia in person?” “It’s not like that…” “Or is it for me to apologize to Chloe in person? Because I hurt her brother and sister-in-law?” The other end of the line was quiet for a few seconds. “Nora, you know I don’t mean that.” “Then what do you mean?” “I just hope we can go back to how things were. You know, during this first year of marriage, we’ve gotten along very well.” Gotten along very well. I thought back over the past year. Every time he went on a business trip, he brought me a gift. I remembered how he would remember my favorite restaurants and order me late-night snacks when I worked overtime. I remembered how he would occasionally sit in the living room with me to watch a movie, even though he spent most of the time looking at his phone. This was what he called getting along very well. Holding onto my last shred of hope for him. I said okay. “What time tomorrow?” I heard Liam let out a sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “Seven o’clock, the usual place. Nora, thank you.” 04 The next afternoon, just as I walked out of my company building, my phone pinged. It was a push notification. I tapped it casually, and a live stream notification popped up on the screen: “Chloe Cross Tearfully Reveals the Heartbreak of High Society; Innocent Goddess Mia Brutally Suppressed by Capital.” I stopped walking. A live stream? I clicked into it. There were already over a hundred thousand people in the stream. Chloe sat in front of the camera, her eyes red and swollen, tear stains still on her face. She was wearing a plain dress, looking delicate and pitiful. “Does everyone know? Some people rely on their wealth and power to bully others whenever they want.” Chloe choked back sobs facing the camera. “My brother is a good man. He is gentle to everyone, including that woman. But what about that woman? She actually stole the necklace meant for Mia, and she’s trying to steal Mia’s endorsement too!” The live chat started scrolling rapidly. “What’s going on?” “Liam’s sister?” “Who bullied you?” I gripped my phone, feeling the blood rush to my head. Chloe continued her tearful complaint: “That necklace was specially designed by my brother for Mia. But that woman not only snatched it and wore it, she also claimed the brand was hers! Is there anyone more shameless in this world?” “She even threatened my brother, saying she’d make him leave with nothing! Our Liam is such a good person, why should he suffer like this?” The chat exploded. “Holy shit, what kind of evil stepmother vibe is this?” “Liam’s wife?” “Stealing a necklace and acting so arrogant?” My hands began to tremble. Not from anger, but from being utterly infuriated. A necklace specially designed for Mia? That was the design sketch I personally drew a month ago! Right then, a co-host notification appeared in the live stream. “Mia is joining the stream!” Chloe immediately wiped her tears. “Please don’t attack Mia, she hasn’t done anything wrong!” The screen split, and Mia appeared on the other half. Her makeup was very light, her eyes red, her hair slightly messy, looking utterly haggard. “Chloe, don’t say anymore…” Mia’s voice carried a sob. “Nora didn’t mean it. It’s all my fault.” “I shouldn’t have reappeared in Liam’s life. I shouldn’t have caused you two to fight because of me.” The chat was instantly flooded with “Heartbroken for Mia.” Mia faced the camera, tears streaming down her cheeks: “Please everyone, don’t attack Nora. She just loves Liam too much. Love makes people lose their minds, I understand that.” “That necklace… if Nora likes it, let her have it. And the endorsement, I never deserved it in the first place.” “I’m willing to step down. I don’t want anything. I just ask her to treat Liam better.” “Liam is a good man; he shouldn’t be caught in the middle suffering because of us.” I almost smashed my phone. With acting skills like that, the Academy owes her an Oscar. The chat went completely insane. “Mia is too kind!” “What kind of evil bitch bullies such a sweet girl!” “Who is Liam’s wife? Dox her!” “#CancelNoraVance” “#EvilCapitalistBitchGetOut” I looked at those comments, each one stabbing at my heart like a knife. How were they painting me? A homewrecker stealing someone else’s feelings? An evil bitch abusing her power? A greedy woman stealing someone else’s necklace? My phone started vibrating wildly. Calls from unknown numbers came pouring in one after another. I answered one. “Are you Nora Vance? You shameless bitch!” I hung up immediately. Another call came in. “Get out of the entertainment industry! Stop bullying Mia!” I turned my phone off completely. But the text messages kept flooding in. “Evil bitch go die!” “Give back the necklace!” “Disgusting homewrecker!” I sat in my car, feeling like the whole world was turning against me with malice. I was the one who had done nothing wrong. I was the one who had been deceived. I was the one who had been schemed against. Why was the entire internet cursing me now? My phone buzzed again. This time it was a WeChat message. Liam. “Nora, are you satisfied now? Did you really have to make this so ugly?” “The internet is blowing up. Do you know how much this will impact my career?” “Get to the restaurant immediately and apologize to Mia and Chloe, or face the consequences!” I stared at the message and suddenly laughed. Apologize? He wants me to apologize to them? I’m the one they teamed up to frame, and now he wants me to apologize? I turned my phone back on and dialed a number. “Mr. Liu, it’s me.” “Help me prepare the highest-level press conference for L&W Group. Tomorrow morning at 10 AM.” “A press conference? Ms. Vance, what happened?” “Also, notify Starlight Studios, which we just acquired, to terminate all collaborations with Liam Cross. We will bear the breach of contract fees.” The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds. “Ms. Vance, isn’t Liam Cross your…” “Not starting from right now.” “And contact the PR Director. Tell her I want the entire internet to know what true capitalist power looks like.”

When she showed me the clothes she bought for $3.99, I couldn’t help but look at her in disgust: “Can’t you learn a thing or two from Vivian downstairs? Stop buying cheap junk!” She froze. After a long moment, her lips trembling, she said to me: “Let’s get a divorce.” Fine, let’s get a divorce! With a $4,000 a month living allowance, I wasn’t worried about finding someone willing to be with me. A month later, she didn’t come crawling back to me. But as I calculated the mortgage, car insurance, and utility bills, I was the one who started to panic. 01 Hazel and I had been married for three years. I had provided for her for three years. Out of my $6,000 monthly salary, I transferred $4,000 to her on time every single month. The remaining $2,000 was my pocket money. So I honestly couldn’t understand why she was so obsessed with buying cheap junk on Temu. A couple of days ago, she asked me to bring her packages up on my way home. There were a whopping eight packages, and I was juggling them clumsily. When I finally got into the apartment, she actually complained that I wasn’t paying attention—she had texted me nine pickup codes. She stayed at home every day, just doing chores and watching the kid. How could she possibly need to buy so many things?! When I saw what she bought, my vision practically went dark. A 5-pack of underwear for $2.99, house slippers for $1.99, a 10-pack of tissues for $1.50, and two bottles of shampoo for $5.99. I specifically remembered telling her that cheap shampoo gives me dandruff and to buy me a name-brand one. But she stubbornly refused to listen. And now, she was furiously tapping away on her phone, arguing with a seller over a $1.99 box of 200 trash bags. Our son was sitting on the toilet, relentlessly yelling, “Mommy, come here! Mommy, come here!” But she kept her head down, counting the trash bags and waging a war of words with customer service. Was it really worth arguing over something that cost less than two bucks? “Hazel, the kid is calling you.” I reminded her, forcing myself to be patient. In reality, my anger was about to blow the roof off. What was the difference between 150 bags and 200 bags?! It was making her neglect our own child! Hazel didn’t even look up. “I’m a little busy right now. Can you go wipe his butt?” I was extremely reluctant. I was exhausted from working all day, just hoping to come home and relax for a bit. But my son’s screaming was so piercing that I had no choice but to put my phone down and walk into the bathroom. I hadn’t even started complaining about the smell yet. The little brat wiggled around on the toilet, complaining that the toilet paper I grabbed was too rough, demanding wet wipes instead. When I finally managed to dig out the wet wipes, he complained they were too cold and wanted them warmed up with hot water. I was furious. This kid was absolutely spoiled rotten by his mother. It was just wiping his butt, and he was being pickier than my corporate clients. I threw the wipes onto the counter and yelled at Hazel, who was still warring with the trash bag merchant— “Your son doesn’t want me! Hurry up and come here!” The chaotic mess of the apartment was driving me insane. I said, “I’m out of cigarettes. I’m going downstairs to buy a pack.” Hazel, who was rushing toward the bathroom, stopped in her tracks and looked at me. Her baggy, oversized T-shirt was covered in stains. Tsk, how did she get so ugly? She opened her mouth, seeming like she wanted to say something. It was undoubtedly going to be, “Smoking is bad for your health,” “Smoke less,” or “We should save that money to buy things for the kid.” My ears were getting calluses from hearing it. I quickly dropped one last sentence: “I’ll take the trash out by the door on my way down.” 02 While I was smoking downstairs, I happened to run into my 8th-floor neighbor, Vivian Wright. She was rushing out in a panic and almost crashed right into me by the door. Seeing she was about to fall, I quickly reached out and caught her. She felt really soft. I couldn’t help but think back to the first time I held Hazel’s hand. It’s a pity that holding Hazel’s hand now felt exactly like my left hand holding my right hand. No spark whatsoever. “Oh, Arthur! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Vivian blushed and apologized to me. I smiled, told her it was no problem, and asked her why she was in such a rush. Vivian said her floor drain was clogged, so she was going to find the property manager to take a look. I pocketed my cigarettes. “The management office is probably closed by now. If you’re in a hurry, do you mind if I come up and take a look for you?” Vivian’s apartment had the exact same layout as mine, but looking around, everything felt refreshingly clean and comfortable. There was no cheap, cluttered junk on the table; instead, there was a blooming bouquet of roses. Vibrant and fresh. You could tell at a glance she took meticulous care of her home. The bathroom had a diffuser that smelled elegant and inviting. The skincare products lined up on the vanity were all high-end brands I recognized. The entire apartment subtly revealed the sophisticated taste of its owner. The lighting outside had been dim, so it wasn’t until now that I had a moment to properly look at Vivian. She was wearing a silk slip dress with a trench coat draped over it. Even though she hadn’t heavily styled herself, it still showed off her excellent taste, and… her figure. I used my phone flashlight to look down the drain and found it was clogged with long hair. My mind flashed back to how Hazel dealt with drains. She usually asked me to hand her a disposable chopstick to fish the hair out. “Do you have any disposable chopsticks?” After using a chopstick to clear out the hair stuck in the pipe, the water flowed down much smoother. “Arthur, if it weren’t for you, I really wouldn’t have known what to do.” I dusted off my hands, ignoring the ache in my lower back, and feigned a relaxed tone. “It might not be completely clear. I’ll bring some drain cleaner over tomorrow to dissolve the rest, and it’ll be good as new.” “I couldn’t trouble you like that! Just tell me the name of the brand, and I’ll go buy it myself.” Hazel handled all that stuff at home, how the hell was I supposed to know the brand name? But I obviously couldn’t say that to Vivian. “It’s no trouble, I have some at home. How can I let a lady deal with this? By the way, where is your husband?” Vivian frowned. “Him? He travels for work constantly. Whenever he leaves, he’s gone for half a month.” I felt a surge of smug pride. I was definitely a much better husband than hers. Having a husband around to help out should make Hazel secretly thrilled, yet she actually blamed me for missing a package code. “You’ve worked hard, Arthur. Come have some fruit.” Vivian invited me to sit in the living room. The matching tea set held a clear, aromatic tea, and the cherries and strawberries in the fruit bowl looked plump and tempting. Taking a sip of tea and a bite of a cherry, I leaned back into the soft sofa and sighed in satisfaction. This was living. What kind of miserable life was I living with Hazel? I complimented Vivian on how clean and comfortable her place was. She blushed and said that since she was a stay-at-home wife, keeping the place spotless made it more comfortable to live in. I pretended to ask casually, “So, how much allowance does your husband give you?” Vivian froze, frowned in thought for a moment, and said, “About four thousand, maybe? I don’t really keep track of the finances…” She sounded vague. I understood perfectly. Her husband probably gave her less than $4,000, and she was too embarrassed to admit it, so she kept it vague. 03 On my way home from work today, I saw a young girl selling roses on the street. Three stems for $5. I remembered the bouquet of roses I saw in Vivian’s apartment. Bright and pleasing to the eye. I figured I’d bring a bouquet back for Hazel. Three stems looked incredibly pathetic, so I gritted my teeth and bought six for $10. I didn’t even ask the girl for change. It hurt my wallet a little. This little trinket that women liked cost me half a pack of cigarettes. When I got home, Hazel was cooking in the kitchen. I walked over, wanting to surprise her: “Hazel, look what I bought you!” I expected to see stars in her eyes. Just like the way Vivian looked at me the other day. Hazel only glanced at it once before turning her head back to violently clanging her spatula in the pan. “Why did you buy these? You can’t eat them, you can’t wear them… what a waste of money.” Before she could finish, I had already lost the patience to listen. I threw the flowers on the dining table and went straight to the bathroom. When I came out, Hazel was humming a little tune, arranging the roses. Unfortunately, she was clumsy and lacked any sense of romance. No matter how she arranged them, they didn’t look nearly as good as Vivian’s. But I wasn’t planning on saying that out loud. Hearing my footsteps, she turned around and happily said to me, “Honey, look at my new shirt, $3.99! It’s so soft and comfortable!” The pink T-shirt wasn’t fitted at all, making Hazel look washed-out and bulky. Cheap Temu junk again! I felt insulted. I gave her $4,000 a month for living expenses, and she buys a $3.99 piece of trash to wear in front of me. It was the same $4,000. How come other men’s wives dressed themselves up to look sophisticated and gorgeous, while my wife walked around every day looking like a starving peasant? My face instantly darkened. “Can you stop buying this cheap garbage? Look at what you’re wearing! Is that a rag?” Hazel froze, instinctively taking two steps forward. “I thought it was pretty nice… Let’s just eat first. Your mom picked up Leo today, so I made your favorite fried catfish.” The overwhelming fishy smell radiating off her clothes made me want to gag. I took a step back. “What is nice about it?!” “You buy this trash every single day! Do I not give you enough money?!” I pointed at the garbage bags in the corner. “150 bags, 200 bags, who cares! You ignored your own kid over a few cents worth of trash bags! Hazel, I’m not trying to lecture you, but as a person, you shouldn’t be so petty. Think bigger!” “And how many times have I told you to buy decent shampoo for the house? You buy the cheap stuff every time. How am I supposed to go meet clients looking like this?” “And $2.99 underwear! You actually dare to wear that? Aren’t you afraid of getting an infection?” “Hazel, stop looking for ways to suffer when you don’t have to! People who don’t know any better would think I married a homeless beggar!” The more I spoke, the angrier I got. I wanted to smash all the low-quality junk in the house to pieces. Hazel stared at me blankly, her face full of disbelief. Her large eyes brimmed with tears. After venting all my frustrations in one breath, I felt much better. Even the ugly shirt on her looked slightly less offensive. I sighed internally, preparing to soothe her a bit. After all, Hazel still had plenty of good qualities. She never made me worry about any of the household chores. I cleared my throat and softened my tone. “Hazel, can’t you learn a thing or two from Vivian downstairs? Stop buying cheap junk.” Hazel trembled all over. Afraid she was going to start a fight with me again, I quickly added, “What I mean is, life should have a little romance, right? You should put some effort into dressing up instead of looking like an old, worn-out housewife all day.” As soon as the words left my mouth. Hazel suddenly burst into loud laughter. I honestly worried she had gone crazy. “Hahahaha, Arthur Bennett, do you really think it’s because I don’t want to dress up? Stop flattering yourself!” She looked me dead in the eye, her lips quivering: “Let’s get a divorce.” 04 “What?” I asked in sheer disbelief. “I said, we are getting a divorce.” This was the biggest joke of the century. Married for three years, she relied entirely on me to survive. And she actually had the guts to bring up divorce. She had no house, no car, no job. If she left me, she probably wouldn’t even be able to afford a meal. I found it hilarious. “You want a divorce?” “Yes, a divorce!” She said it with absolute certainty. I laughed out of sheer anger. “Fine. We’ll go tomorrow.” I thought she would chicken out. I thought she would apologize and say she was just confused for a moment. But she didn’t. She looked at me calmly and spat out one sentence— “Whoever doesn’t go is a cowardly bastard.” Whoever is a bastard, it certainly wouldn’t be me! If it wasn’t for the fact that she gave birth to my son, I wouldn’t even be willing to support her anymore. Worn-out housewife. I was completely different. I was young, I owned a house, a car, and had a stable job. Willing to dish out a $4,000 monthly allowance, why would I ever worry about finding a beautiful woman who knew how to live nicely, just like Vivian? I sneered at Hazel, who had sat down in silence to eat. “Don’t forget, we are going first thing tomorrow morning.” “Whoever backs out is a bastard!” Hazel didn’t answer. She picked up a piece of catfish with her fork and shoveled a huge bite of rice into her mouth. Even the way she ate looked like a starving ghost reincarnated. Utterly low-class. I scoffed, turned around, and walked out the door. I planned to call some friends out for drinks, but unexpectedly ran into Vivian in the elevator. “Arthur, what a coincidence! Have you eaten yet?” “N-no, not yet. Sorry about the drain cleaner, I forgot to bring it down to you.” Vivian smiled sweetly. “Oh, it’s no big deal. I haven’t eaten either.” I quickly said, “I heard a new buffet opened nearby. Do you want to go try it out together?” Inside the restaurant, Vivian, wearing a flowing maxi dress, walked over with a plate, looking stunningly beautiful. But her plate only held a tiny bit of meat, a salad, and two pieces of pudding. I couldn’t help but advise her: “Vivian, this is a $50 buffet! Don’t be shy, what’s so good about pudding? Go get some seafood!” She pressed her lips together slightly. “This is already quite a lot. I heard their pudding is really good.” Watching her elegantly take small bites of her salad, I couldn’t help but mentally complain about Hazel. When she first got pregnant, we went to a buffet together. Her plates were piled sky-high, and food was shoveled into her stomach like a conveyer belt. Hazel even secretly unbuttoned her pants just so she could eat more. I had originally planned to bring Hazel to this exact $50 buffet for our fourth anniversary. Too bad she didn’t have the blessing to enjoy it, insisting on divorcing me. Now someone else was getting the treat. But for someone like Hazel, it was pearls before swine anyway. 05 At exactly eight o’clock the next morning, I stood at the bedroom door and yelled for Hazel. “Are you ready yet? Or are you planning on being a cowardly bastard…” I was already eagerly anticipating my beautiful future bachelor life. Before I could finish, Hazel opened the door. She was wearing a black tailored skirt suit, with powder on her face and lipstick. It made my eyes light up. I hadn’t seen her dressed up in a very long time. See, I was right. Women need to put effort into dressing up so men find them pleasing to look at. The elevator stopped on the 8th floor, and Vivian walked in wearing a tight yoga outfit. “Morning. This must be your wife, I don’t think we’ve met.” Vivian smiled and greeted us. Hazel kept her head down, looking at her phone, and didn’t say a word. I felt a surge of irritation. Someone was actively greeting her, and she was throwing a petty tantrum! “What wife? We’re getting divorced in a few minutes.” I glared at Hazel. Vivian gave an awkward smile and stopped talking. Standing next to Vivian, Hazel’s black suit squeezed tight against her belly bulge. The leather on her purse was peeling, her black heels were a style from years ago, and her lipstick color was way too bright. The baby pink was totally washing her out, making her look tacky. It gave off a feeling of someone trying way too hard and looking cheap. That fleeting moment of brightness I felt earlier vanished instantly. At the County Clerk’s office, the clerk didn’t even look up as she asked: “Are you both filing for this divorce voluntarily?” I nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes.” She looked at the silent Hazel: “And you? Are you doing this voluntarily?” “Yes.” “Alright, let me see the divorce settlement agreement.” I panicked. “We’re voluntarily getting divorced, why do we need an agreement?” Hazel pulled a document out of her peeling purse and handed it over. “Here it is. It’s already signed.” The clerk read it: “Both parties are divorcing due to irreconcilable differences. The child goes to the wife, the house and car go to the husband, and current savings are split evenly, correct?” I immediately shouted, “I don’t agree to giving her our son!” The clerk frowned. “What are you yelling for? You signed and dated this right here.” Last night, after eating at the buffet, I passed by a hardware store and bought the most expensive drain cleaner, intending to fulfill my promise to Vivian. Then we started drinking and chatting, and before I knew it, I had drank too much. When I got home, Hazel handed me a document. I saw the words “Divorce Agreement” at the top and signed it without even thinking. I never expected this woman to be so calculating… But in a flash of lightning, my thoughts shifted. If Hazel wants the kid, let her take him! Without having to raise a kid, wouldn’t my life be even more luxurious? I could use that $4,000 to find a beautiful, elegant girlfriend. I’ll just buy my son some toys and snacks every now and then. He’s my flesh and blood, it’s not like he won’t acknowledge me as his dad. Thinking of this, I quickly told the clerk, “I was just confused for a second. I agree to the settlement.” Who knew that even with a mutual agreement, we still had to go back and wait out a 30-day cooling-off period. I felt anxious. What if Hazel came to her senses and didn’t want to divorce me anymore? After all, she got to sit around doing nothing all month and take a free $4,000 allowance. But I refused to be dragged down by extra baggage! 06 Coming out of the courthouse, Hazel followed me toward the parking lot. I blocked her path. “We are divorced now. Even though there’s still a final step, it’s basically done. The car belongs to me. If you want a ride, you have to pay gas money.” There was no way I was letting this worn-out housewife ride in my car for free. I thought Hazel would be angry, that she would yell at me, that she would be heartbroken and sad. She just gave me a calm look, turned around, and walked toward the bus stop. Pierced by that look, an inexplicable fire flared up in my chest. What was she acting so high and mighty for? Just wait until she comes crawling back begging to remarry! I went to the supermarket and bought the most expensive electric razor, high-end shampoo, liquor I usually couldn’t bear to buy, and premium fruits like cherries and strawberries, filling several large bags to the brim. When I get back, I’m going to make Hazel die of jealousy! Let’s see her insist on divorcing me then! Wait, the house belongs to me now. I can’t let her stay here anymore. It’s best to make her take all the cheap junk she bought and leave. I don’t want her ruining my high-quality lifestyle. When I got home, Hazel was packing. She didn’t have much luggage. Even after she finished packing, the apartment didn’t look noticeably emptier. I sat on the sofa with my legs crossed, eating sweet cherries. “By the way, don’t forget to take all that cheap trash you bought with you. Filling a $450,000 house with dollar-store garbage… you’re really something!” Hazel was left speechless by my words and packed her things in silence. I chewed on a strawberry. “Where are you going to live? Need me to drive you?” “No need.” “Leo can stay with my mom for now. You can pick him up after you find a place. Otherwise, it’s going to be really hard for a single woman like you. “It really is a pity. I originally planned to add your name to the deed once our son got a little older. We could have been a happy family. “Hey, I’m telling you, premium fruit is expensive for a reason. It really tastes amazing. Want to try some? In case you can never afford it again…” “Arthur Bennett!” Hazel loudly cut me off. “Don’t forget that I used to be able to afford my own cherries!” With that, the front door slammed shut. I froze for a moment. Hazel and I met on a blind date. Back then, she had a stable, respectable job with a great income, but her family was pressuring her hard to get married. When she got pregnant, the doctor said she showed signs of a threatened miscarriage and needed bed rest. She was forced to quit her job to stay home and protect the baby. Back then, she truly was radiant. But so what? The modern era moves so fast. She’s a stay-at-home mom who hasn’t been in the workforce for three years, and her figure is completely out of shape. I refused to believe she had any skills left. Plus, she was already 33 years old. Besides me, no one else would want her. After Hazel left, I ordered the greasy, spicy takeout she usually never let me eat. I sat on the sofa in my street clothes, eating and watching TV. I drank bottle after bottle of beer and flicked my cigarette ashes right into my empty food containers. These were all things Hazel never let me do before. I have to say, the bachelor life was absolute paradise.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “409199”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the day my terminal illness took a turn for the worse, I went online and bought the cheapest succubus available. Because she didn’t cost much, the little succubus I received, despite her stunning beauty, had an exceptionally bratty temper. “I will not serve you, I will not kiss you, I won’t do that with you, and I certainly won’t love you.” “If you dare lay a finger on me, I’ll slap you to death, you filthy man—” Her voice abruptly cut off the moment she saw my face. She demanded, “You’re a woman? What does a woman want with me?” I curled my lips into a gentle smile. “That doesn’t matter.” As the real daughter of a wealthy family who had been despised and rejected for twenty-four years, I no longer expected anyone to love me. She snorted, full of disdain. “Do you know how many times I’ve been returned and complained about? I excel at abandoning humans.” But later, she didn’t abandon me. She even worked three jobs a day, desperately trying to save me. Right up until the day I died. 01 The little succubus was still thrashing around inside the crate, throwing out vicious threats: “I’m vicious! I’ll bite your junk right off, chew it up, and swallow it—” I pressed my lips together. I opened the velvet box on top and took out the key. The moment the lock clicked open, the metal lid of the crate was shoved up by a pair of pale, pristine hands. A girl with exquisite features glared at me menacingly. I could tell she was trying her hardest to look intimidating, but she had these beautiful, watery, almond-shaped eyes with slightly upturned corners. Even her fury looked like a cute pout, making you want to reach out and ruffle the soft hair on top of her head. When she got a clear look at my face, the curses dying on her lips. She stammered, questioning me: “Y-You’re a woman? Why did you buy me?” I gave her an apologetic smile, speaking gently: “I’m sorry. I don’t have the required anatomy for you to bite off.” She immediately retorted, flushed with shame and anger, “Even if you are a woman, don’t even think about making me serve you…” I didn’t interrupt. I listened patiently as she listed all her rules, and when she finished, I said softly: “None of that matters.” She blinked, a momentary look of confusion crossing her face. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been returned and complained about? I excel at abandoning humans.” “Then abandon me.” I reached out my hand to her, offering to help her stand up from the crate. “Tabby cats are also very good at abandoning humans. I heard succubi usually get new names from their owners. Can I call you Tabby?” It was such a coincidence. Eight years ago, I also wanted to adopt a little tabby cat. Unfortunately, I had to fight for the cat, and I couldn’t fight my parents for it. Now, here was a living, breathing, talking Tabby standing right in front of me. The girl stared at me, unmoving, complex emotions swirling in her eyes. She suddenly turned her head away and muttered, “If I stand up, you might not want me anymore.” I didn’t pull my hand back. I shook my head and said, “I won’t.” The girl stayed silent for a long time before she finally dragged herself up, leaning against the edge of the crate. She was wearing very revealing clothes, her skirt extremely short. Other than that, there was nothing unusual about her. Her skin was flawless, her face as beautiful as a blooming flower, her figure impeccable. I looked at her, puzzled. She lowered her eyes coldly and turned her back to me. My pupils constricted. I understood. This little succubus… was a succubus with a severed tail. 02 I messaged customer service: [Is this succubus the cheapest because of her cold and stubborn personality?] The rep replied with a laugh: [Haha, of course not! That personality is actually exactly what a lot of clients want. They love buying the stubborn ones; breaking them gives them a thrill of conquest and domination.] [Dear client, this succubus was discounted because she has a physical defect.] [We implant tracking chips into their little heart-shaped tails. Once a succubus is reported lost and passes through public transit scanners, her tail sets off an alarm, and everyone pitches in to catch the runaway~] [This particular succubus ran away many times. The last time, after realizing the chip was in her tail, she actually chopped her own tail off just to escape.] My hands unconsciously balled into fists: [Didn’t you guys give her any medical treatment?] They had dressed her in a pretty new skirt, completely spotless. Yet her tail was a bloody, mangled mess, with absolutely no signs of being treated. [Dear client, a succubus is basically just a high-end sex doll, isn’t it? As a tool bought for a premium price to vent desires, what right does she have to freedom? The loss of her tail is a lesson that needs to be carved into her bones so she remembers never to run away again.] … I collapsed backward onto my bed. Outside the window, the distant mountains were a hazy blue, birds were chirping, but the air in my room was dead silent. I raised my arm to cover my eyes, feeling a sting of tears. Maybe because this succubus was a girl, it was easier for me to empathize with her resistance and feel pity for her stubbornness. I sat up, walked out of my bedroom, and knocked on the bathroom door. “You’ve been showering for an hour. Soaking too long isn’t good for you.” The sound of running water continued from inside, but there was no response. I kept talking: “Your tail can’t get wet, or the wound will get infected. After you change, take my phone and go to the hospital to see a doctor.” “I won’t go with you.” It was as if I had triggered a switch. The door whipped open right in front of me. The girl looked guarded. “You’re trusting me to go out alone? You aren’t coming?” “No, I’m not coming.” My eyes fell on the object the girl was clutching tightly in her hand. It was probably the sharpest weapon she could find after scouring my bathroom. An eyebrow razor. The girl pressed her lips together: “Why aren’t you coming?” I answered casually, “I don’t like the smell of hospitals.” But that wasn’t the real reason. It was because I suffered from a severe immunodeficiency disease. This disease made my body like a fortress without walls; any pathogen could march right in. If I went to the hospital, I’d probably catch another infection. In the final moments of my life, I just wanted the physical pain to be as light as possible. As I watched the girl leave, She took my phone and cast a complex, indescribable look back at me. I curled my lips into a smile and told her to “come back soon.” Her slender silhouette slowly disappeared from my view. I stood there in a daze for a while before walking toward my art studio. With a paintbrush in hand, the pristine white canvas remained untouched by any pigment. Suddenly, a sour feeling hit my nasal cavity, and that familiar tickle washed over me like a tide. I sneezed three times in a row. I hunched over, covering my mouth, broken coughs slipping through my fingers, every breath wrapped in pain. Tears involuntarily welled up in my eyes. What was it this time? A cold? Bronchitis? Pneumonia? A gastrointestinal infection? I thought I could hold out a little longer this time. I hadn’t even gone outside, yet I was infected again. It was miserable. My head was spinning, yet strangely, the thought of calling the hospital never crossed my mind. Just dying and getting it over with… seemed like a pretty good option. Buying that little succubus cost me a hundred grand. I didn’t have any money left for treatments anyway. Truthfully, I could tell that the little succubus wanted to run away, which is why I gave her my phone. When I died from my illness, there would be no one to report her lost. She could be free. She wouldn’t have to cut off her own tail as the price for her freedom ever again. Just then, the spare phone beside me erupted with a piercing ringtone. I forced myself to look over. The screen flashed with the word: “Mom.” 03 In my hazy state, I wondered, Is this the last phone call I’ll ever answer? My trembling fingertips swiped to answer. Before the other side could speak, I said calmly, “Mom, because I saved Mia, I got hurt. My condition is worsening, and I’m going to die soon.” Mia… was the nanny’s granddaughter, the girl who had been swapped with me at birth. When I was fifteen, I was brought back to the Vance family from a poor rural town. I didn’t face the rejection I anticipated; my parents and Mia were all very nice. To welcome me home, the four of us even shared a harmonious dinner. However, that very night, Mia left a note and ran away from home. My parents were frantic and called the police, but security footage showed Mia being roughly dragged into a van by a man. Mia had been kidnapped. From then on, no matter how clumsily I tried to please my parents, that incident stood like an invisible wall of ice between us. A year later, Mia was found in a pigpen in a remote mountain village. My parents cried their hearts out. “Don’t be afraid, Mia, Mom and Dad are bringing you home.” But Mia, crying silently in their arms, suddenly looked up at me, her voice filled with sorrow: “She’s back… I don’t have a home anymore… Where am I supposed to go?” I froze instantly. Without meaning to, I had become the villain who ruined their perfect family. Desperate for my parents to just look at me with an ounce of affection, half a year ago, during an accident, I chose to save Mia. But after I was resuscitated, the doctor looked at me and sighed heavily: “You have massive burn wounds on your back. The immune barrier that was already fragile has completely collapsed. Chronic inflammation and recurrent infections will easily destroy your body.” I asked, “Can it be cured?” The doctor looked away, visibly uncomfortable. And I understood. It couldn’t be cured, and I was going to die a very painful death. I no longer demanded my parents’ love, but surely Mia, the girl I saved, owed me at least a “thank you,” right? “…” A heavy, awkward silence stretched over the phone line. Then, a cold female voice came through: “Chloe, haven’t you played the victim long enough over these past ten years?” …? My breath hitched. “If you really had Bipolar Disorder, why wouldn’t the psychiatrist officially diagnose you?” “Even when making up excuses, you can’t make them sound believable… Saying the Vance family wouldn’t take care of you, saying Bipolar Disorder would ruin your future career—it just makes you sound stupid and malicious.” “Mom genuinely hopes you can be as understanding as Mia. When she heard you were coming back, she silently ran away from home just to make room for you, unlike you… always fighting and grabbing for things… and now, threatening Mom and Dad with suicide.” I let out a bitter laugh. So, she thought my mention of “dying” was just me faking a manic episode to threaten suicide. 04 Back in high school, out of kindness, the psychiatrist refused to officially diagnose me with Bipolar Disorder. She had said, “Sweetheart, Bipolar Disorder isn’t like regular depression. It’s classified as a severe psychiatric condition. Once you get an official diagnosis, it goes on your permanent medical record. After that, a lot of doors will close for you.” “You won’t pass the background checks for government jobs or military service. HR departments will heavily scrutinize you during background checks. You might not even be able to get a driver’s license, or if you have one, it could be revoked.” The Vance family was wealthy; they had more than enough to support me. But none of my family members liked me, and I couldn’t convince myself to hand over the rest of my life to them. I wiped the uncontrollable tears from the corners of my eyes and whispered: “Thank you. Then please don’t diagnose me.” But later, this became ammunition for Mia to attack me relentlessly. She would press her lips together and speak softly: “Mom, Dad, Chloe is fed and pampered at home. What kind of mental illness could she possibly have?” “Did she… pay the doctor to tell you she has Bipolar Disorder? Otherwise, why wouldn’t the doctor give her an official diagnosis?” I asked the doctor to explain it to my parents, but they just frowned and said coldly: “We get it.” They didn’t get it. They never believed me for a second. 05 After a moment of silence, I softly explained: “Mom, you misunderstood. I’m not talking about Bipolar Disorder, I’m talking about…” “Chloe.” My mom suddenly called my name gently. I stopped instinctively: “Yes?” The next sentence followed immediately. She said flatly: “I don’t want to hear it.” That one sentence brought tears straight to my eyes. It felt like a knife had been plunged into my chest, twisting the blade. I said, “Then don’t hear it.” The line went dead immediately. Why was the sunlight streaming through the window so blinding? The air in the art studio felt like ice again. Tears blurred my vision. I curled up on the floor in exhaustion, then quietly closed my eyes. Every breath tugged at the sharp pain deep in my chest. But everything was becoming blurrier and more distant. Until an anxious, clear voice broke into my ears: “Human, why are you on the floor!” 06 After hanging up, Mrs. Vance kept frowning in silence. Until Mr. Vance looked up and asked, “What did Chloe say? Isn’t she coming to Mia’s birthday party?” “I was so mad I forgot to bring it up! That girl has been faking Bipolar Disorder for nine years! I couldn’t bear to expose her, and she actually plans to keep up the act! Oh, and that excuse about the Vance family not taking care of her—it’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mia, standing nearby, pursed her lips and chimed in timidly: “Dad, Mom, I transfer money to Chloe via Venmo every month. I showed you the transaction history, right?” “Yes!” Mrs. Vance huffed in frustration. “Tens of thousands of dollars, isn’t that enough for Chloe to spend?” Mr. Vance rubbed his temples and sighed. “She just thinks we favor you, Mia, and insists on provoking us like this. But she’s so immature. Half a year ago, she actually dared to push you into the fire, leaving you with a burn scar on your arm. A girl’s appearance is everything.” Mia obediently massaged her father’s shoulders. “Dad, let’s not talk about that. I never wanted to fight Chloe for anything…” The pity in Mr. and Mrs. Vance’s eyes deepened. After a long silence, Mr. Vance suddenly said: “In a blink of an eye, Chloe is almost 25, and she still refuses to get close to us. As parents, constantly battling with our child isn’t a solution.” Mr. and Mrs. Vance exchanged glances, their expressions softening. “In July, on the day of Chloe and Mia’s shared birthday… let’s go find her, give her a surprise, and coax her a little.” “And we should make her apologize to you, Mia. Mia, what do you think?” Mia’s fingernails dug into her palms as she forced a smile: “Sure.” 07 When I opened my eyes again, the smell of disinfectant filled the air. I turned my head slightly and saw the little succubus curled up in a chair beside my hospital bed. My throat was parched, and I asked her hoarsely: “You… you didn’t abandon me.” The girl awkwardly turned her head away, the tips of her ears turning pink, but she blustered a defense for herself: “If I kept running, I’d just get caught again. Cutting off a tail hurts a lot, and there’d be no one left to pay for my medical bills.” I really should have just died. Now look, I didn’t have enough money to treat both of us. “Cough.” I covered my mouth and coughed lightly, pulling back the covers to get out of bed. “Let’s go back. I can’t afford to stay here.” Before the words fully left my mouth, the girl pushed me back onto the bed in disbelief: “Are you crazy? You can afford me but you don’t have money for medical bills? If you don’t want treatment, just say so.” “I don’t like hospitals. I’ve been here too many times.” I wearily lowered my eyelids, staring blankly at the snow-white sheets. After a moment of silence, the girl’s muffled voice suddenly sounded: “Fine, let’s go back and I’ll serve you, but let’s get one thing straight.” “I hate people bossing me around. If you want me to help you, you have to say a lot of nice things. If someone is rude, I’ll literally dump a bowl of food on their face.” I was slightly taken aback and said softly, “Actually… you don’t have to go out of your way to take care of me.” Over all these years, I had long gotten used to taking care of myself. I often came down with random respiratory infections; I was a regular at the hospital. Registering, paying, waiting… all by myself. I knew the routine by heart. Except for that one time. Right after I registered and turned around, I saw my biological parents and my adoptive parents clustering around Mia—who just had a common cold—like she was the center of the universe. They didn’t even have to wait in line; they went straight in to see the doctor. I clutched my thin registration slip tightly, barely able to breathe. Because I even had to earn my own money for medical bills. Living was so exhausting. I often thought about just giving up and dying out of spite. But… an unloved child dying doesn’t hurt their family in the slightest. Now I was truly dying. This was probably what they had been hoping for all along. 08 The scenery outside the car window rolled past at a steady pace. Our small suburban town wasn’t big; a ten-minute drive brought us from the hospital to my doorstep. After that fire, I moved back to the small town, to the house my grandmother used to own. This modest little suburban house made it seem like the $100,000 I spent on the succubus was fake money. “Human, you… why do you live in such a poor place?” The people who could afford succubi were usually insanely rich or powerful. By comparison, my house looked extra pathetic. However. I squinted slightly at the girl helping me out of the car: “This is the second time. Why do you call me ‘human’? It’s weird.” The girl looked around guiltily and mumbled, “…I don’t want to call you ‘Master.’” I sighed: “Tabby, I don’t need you to call me that. You can just use my name, Chloe.” “…” Tabby froze. The hand supporting my arm tightened silently. Because the fight had gone out of me, I had become completely indifferent. Along with that, I lost the desire to take my medication. I hate bitter things. I’m actually terrified of pain and absolutely loathe taking pills. I’d rather swallow ten flavorless capsules than let a single bitter pill touch my tongue. Seeing me like this, Tabby panicked. She dashed into the kitchen like a gust of wind, returning shortly with a bowl that she shoved in front of me. “If you mix it with sugar water, the pills won’t be as bitter, right?” I lowered my eyes. In the bowl, the white sugar sediment was slowly dissolving in the water. It felt like something gently nudged my heart—sour and soft. In the past, my grandmother used to force me to take medicine by pinching my jaw and pouring it down my throat. But after she died, no one in the world cared whether I took my medicine or not. Trying to shake off those thoughts, I shook my head. “Don’t bother, Tabby. It might… mess with the medication’s effectiveness.” I paused. “Besides, I’m a weirdo. I hate bitterness, but I don’t really like things too sweet, either.” The girl standing in front of me remained silent for a moment before suddenly leaning in close. Her breath brushed against my face. Instinctively, I tried to pull back, but she firmly grasped my shoulders. “Don’t move.” Those beautiful eyes stared straight into mine, carrying a strange, captivating allure. “This is a special succubus ability, called ‘Infatuation’… If I stare at you long enough, you’ll be charmed.” Under my astonished gaze, Tabby raised her index finger and gently tapped my forehead. A subtle, pale pink aura instantly gathered around her fingertip. Tabby ordered with a cold expression, “Chloe, be a good girl and take your medicine.” The next second, as if under a spell, I actually reached out and took the pill and the glass of water she offered. I put the bitter pill in my mouth, and magically, it tasted faintly sweet. As Tabby pulled her finger back. That little bit of pink aura vanished as if it had never existed. Just then, the girl’s voice suddenly broke the silence, carrying a hint of imperceptible awkwardness. “Chloe, I… I just formed a contract with you for exactly one minute. Since you took your medicine, I cancelled it.” She glared at me, aggressively emphasizing, “No human can form a contract with me! I will never be bound to anyone! Don’t even dream about it…” The sunlight streamed through the window, falling on her cheeks, which were flushed red from embarrassment. I suddenly couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Thank you…” Tabby glanced at me, stunned, then quickly lowered her head and started fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Trying to look incredibly busy. But I clearly saw the corners of her mouth quietly, swiftly curve upward. Suddenly, she looked up again, her dark, beautiful eyes staring unblinking at me: “Right, what disease do you have that requires so much medicine? It’s not cancer, is it?”

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My best friend and I were on a road trip through the remote Cascade Mountains. Along the way, she suddenly pointed out a figure in the distance waving at us from the hillside. We thought it was a stranded hiker asking for help, so we immediately got out of the car and ran toward them. But halfway there, my best friend suddenly stopped in her tracks. Just as I turned to ask her what was wrong, I saw a look of absolute terror wash over her face. Before I could even speak, she grabbed my hand tightly and sprinted back the way we came. Her voice was a frantic, breathless snarl: “Run! That’s not human!” 01 Chloe and I had been best friends for years. I knew immediately when she was joking and when she was dead serious. Without asking a single question, I followed her, sprinting wildly toward our SUV without looking back. “Hurry! Start the car!” Chloe screamed frantically the second we piled in. I hopped into the driver’s seat, my hands shaking but quick, jamming the keys into the ignition and firing up the engine. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the massive black silhouette charging toward us. I flinched hard, my heart skipping a beat. In the few seconds it took to start the car, the shadow had closed the distance by a terrifying margin. “Hurry! That thing is catching up! Go, go, go!” Chloe yelled, her panic spiking. My heart was racing, but I forced my hands to stay steady. I snapped on my seatbelt, threw it into drive— And slammed my foot on the gas. The SUV roared to life and shot forward like an arrow leaving a bow. I glanced in the rearview mirror at that massive dark shape. At its closest, it was no more than sixty or seventy feet away from us. I could practically feel the suffocating, malicious intent radiating off of it. After the car shot forward, the giant shadow chased us for a few dozen seconds before finally stopping. But Chloe and I didn’t dare relax for a second. Our nerves were wound tight, our eyes glued to the side mirrors. The creature was covered entirely in thick black fur, but it had a face that looked sickeningly human. Its expression was eerie and twisted, its eyes locking onto the back of our receding car as if memorizing exactly who we were… We sped down the highway for another hour and a half. Only when we started seeing massive 18-wheelers passing by did we finally let out a heavy sigh of relief. Neither of us spoke at first. Our faces were pale, haunted by the lingering terror of what we’d just survived. I drove steadily for another thirty minutes or so. Finally, we spotted a gas station. I pulled in to fill the tank. Chloe and I went to the restroom to splash cold water on our faces. “That… that scared me to death!” Chloe stared at herself in the mirror, looking like she had just crawled out of a grave. My legs and arms were still feeling like jelly. The aftermath of the adrenaline crash was starting to set in. I bought two bottles of blue Gatorade, pulled the SUV over to the side of the lot, and we slumped onto the curb to drink. “Halfway there, I realized its proportions were all wrong. And the way it waved… its movements were so stiff,” Chloe said, taking small sips of her drink, a flicker of residual fear in her eyes. I thought back to the creature’s silhouette and nodded slowly. Chloe was an artist. She was naturally hyper-sensitive to perspective, shapes, and proportions. If it weren’t for her, I probably wouldn’t have noticed how grotesque the thing was until we were twenty feet away. And by then, there would have been no escape. We had turned around when we were still hundreds of feet away. Yet, by the time we peeled out, it had closed the gap to just sixty feet. Its speed was incomprehensible. Just then, an older truck driver, maybe in his fifties, seemed to overhear us. He frowned and looked over. “You girls run into the Human-Faced Grizzly?” Chloe and I froze. We spoke in unison: “Human-Faced Grizzly?” 02 The trucker took a swig of his water, then pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found a video to show us. “Look. That’s the Human-Faced Grizzly.” “Lately, there have been a lot of videos floating around the local feeds about this thing eating people.” “Word is, this bear stands over ten feet tall, weighs eight or nine hundred pounds, and can tear a grown man in half with a single bite.” “And the creepiest part? It’s smart. Way smarter than a normal bear. It even mimics human movements to lure people in.” “A while back, a couple of college kids on a road trip got tricked by it pretending to ask for help.” “By the time they realized something was wrong, it was too late. They couldn’t outrun it. Ended up as bear food.” As the trucker spoke, our hearts pounded in our chests, mixed with the overwhelming relief of having barely escaped with our lives. Thank God we noticed it early. Otherwise… the consequences would have been unimaginable. “Maya, let’s go. Staying here is giving me the creeps,” Chloe said, and I nodded vigorously. It was 2:25 PM. We said goodbye to the trucker, quickly started the car, and headed toward the nearest town. A few hours passed. It was now early evening. The weather was nice, a cool, overcast chill in the air. With the cold breeze blowing in, Chloe and I rested our arms on the windows. The dark cloud that had been hanging over us slowly began to lift. “Seriously, what are the odds?” “We go on a nice road trip and run into something that freaky.” Chloe looked a bit annoyed, but her tone was much more relaxed. I sighed, shaking my head. “I know, right? Good thing you were there, or we’d be knocking on heaven’s door right now.” Chloe glared at me. “Don’t jinx it—” BANG! Before Chloe could finish, a heavy, violent pop cut her off. The entire SUV violently swerved and began to shake. “What happened?! What’s wrong?!” Chloe instantly spiraled back into a panic. I gripped the steering wheel for dear life, wrestling the car to the shoulder until we finally rolled to a stop. “I don’t know what we hit, but I think the tire blew out!” I looked at the dashboard warning lights in dismay. Sure enough, the front right tire was completely flat. “Hey, look! There’s an auto repair shop right up ahead!” Chloe’s momentary panic faded. She scanned our surroundings—no sign of the grizzly—then pointed to a small, rundown garage just down the road, breathing a sigh of relief. “Let’s get over there, we can’t afford to waste time.” “It’s getting dark, and the roads here are dangerous at night.” I made a split-second decision and limped the SUV right up to the garage door. A scrawny guy was sitting out front. Seeing us pull up, he smiled greasily. “Car trouble, ladies?” Seeing the guy’s demeanor, Chloe and I exchanged a long look. A dozen thoughts flashed through my mind. While doing research for this road trip, we had read warnings about sketchy mechanics. They would sprinkle nails on the highway to blow out tourists’ tires. Then, they’d extort them for a massive payday. In the split second we locked eyes, Chloe and I both knew we had fallen right into a trap. But we had no choice. We were in the middle of nowhere, miles from civilization, and there were no cameras around. We just had to take the hit. “How much to patch the tire?” I asked, suppressing the rising anger in my chest. Even though I was mentally prepared, the price still shocked me— “Eight hundred bucks. Cash or Venmo?” The man kept that greasy smile plastered on his face. “Are you out of your mind—” Chloe instantly rolled up her sleeves, ready to march up and give him a piece of her mind. I quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her back. If things got physical, two young women wouldn’t stand a chance against this guy in the middle of nowhere. Left with no choice, we had to transfer the money. “Patch it well,” I said coldly. Seeing the money hit his account, the man smiled even wider. “Of course! You’re paying customers. I’ll patch it up real nice for you!” … Fuming, Chloe crossed her arms, walked off to the side, and started scrolling through TikTok. I stood there, watching the man work on the tire. I checked the sky. I figured if we hurried, we could reach the nearest town before it got completely dark. But right then, Chloe suddenly ran toward me, her face pale with absolute terror. 03 My heart dropped. Before I could even speak, she shoved her phone in my face. Chloe had been scrolling her local feed, looking for nearby food spots, but the first video on her timeline was a breaking news alert from the state police— [TRUCK DRIVER DEVOURED BY UNKNOWN CREATURE!] My pupils shrank. Unless I was mistaken, the driver in the blurred news footage looked exactly like the trucker we had just spoken to. That red flannel jacket—I could never mistake it! As panic and horror gripped me, Chloe swiped down to the comments. A top comment from a passing driver read: [I drove past that rest stop around 2:30 PM! The guy must have just been attacked!] Chloe and I looked at each other, our expressions morphing into pure horror. 2:30 PM?! That was barely five minutes after we left the gas station! “Is it another one… or is it the one we ran into?” Chloe asked, her voice trembling, dropping to a terrified whisper. A violent chill shot down my spine. Because I understood exactly what Chloe was implying. If it was another bear, that was bad enough. But if it was the same one we ran into… “It’s tracking us?!” I grabbed my chest, feeling like my heart was about to explode out of my ribs. My eyes went wide. “But… but why?! Does that thing hold a grudge?” “We didn’t even do anything to it!” I tried to keep my voice down, but the terror was bleeding through, making me stammer. “Who knows how a monster like that thinks?!” Chloe hissed, near tears. I checked my phone. It was 5:30 PM. We had driven three hours since we left the gas station. Logically, there was no way that thing could catch up to us in a short amount of time. “Once the car is fixed, we go straight to the town’s police precinct. This is insane,” I said, my voice grim. Since the mechanic had already swindled us, he worked fast. The tire was patched in under thirty minutes. We immediately jumped in and sped toward the town. About an hour later, we arrived. We drove straight to the local sheriff’s station and filed a report. Hearing our story, the deputies’ expressions grew deadly serious. They promised to dispatch units immediately and put the town on high alert. Afterward, we finally found a small local motel to crash at. We booked a room with two beds. After dropping our bags, I looked at Chloe. “Do you want to grab food? We haven’t eaten all day.” Chloe waved her hand weakly. “Never mind. Today has been way too much.” “I just want to sleep.” I couldn’t argue with that. I was exhausted to the bone, too. “Alright. You shower first. We’ll get a big breakfast in the morning.” After washing up, we both collapsed into our beds. We tried to chat for a bit, but we were so drained that we both drifted off within minutes. I don’t know how much time passed. Through the hazy veil of sleep, I thought I heard a heavy thudding sound. It sounded like something unbelievably heavy was stepping on the wooden floorboards in the hallway— Thud… Thud… The footsteps grew closer, and then suddenly stopped! KNOCK! KNOCK! Someone was at our door. Immediately, an overpowering, rancid stench seeped into the room. My eyes snapped open, staring at the door in absolute horror!

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My twin sister and I spent five years acting as Julian’s perfect little kept secrets. It was a simple arrangement with a clear division of labor: she handled the bedroom, I handled the bank account. Right after graduation, we were at a high-end club. My sister, eyeing a male model with a flawless eight-pack, suddenly turned to me. “Hey, on the wedding day… are you going, or am I?” I lazily picked up a die from the table, tossing it in my palm. “Low stakes. Loser has to wear the white dress.” Before the die could settle, a chillingly familiar voice echoed from behind us. “Hey man, how does my little birdie taste?” “Mediocre, at best.” Looking up, we saw two identical faces staring back at us. My sister and I froze, speaking in perfect, horrified unison: “Which one of you is the actual Sugar Daddy???” 01 We hovered behind a pillar, whispering furiously while staring back at the VIP booth. “The one on the right?” I hissed. “No, the left?” my sister whispered back. I turned on her. “Didn’t you sleep with him last night? How can you not tell?” “I was busy looking at the ceiling, not his face,” she shot back, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Besides, they are identical!” This was a major logistical problem. Before we could solve it, we watched “Julian A” curl his lip into a smug smirk. “So, bro,” he said, his tone mocking. “You taking the fall at the wedding, or am I?” His identical twin, “Julian B,” barely flickered an eyelash. He slowly reached for a die on the table. “Low roll wins. Loser gets hitched.” “You’re on,” Julian A replied, popping the top off the dice cup and beginning to shake it. The sycophants in the booth started egging them on. “Watch it, J-Two,” one laughed. “Roll a one and you’re doomed to be a groom.” “Why don’t you both just show up? Run a real-life Parent Trap on the girl.” “Man, can you imagine the bride’s face if she found out she’s been getting passed between two brothers for the last two years?” A woman swathed in designer gear, sitting in Julian A’s lap, giggled inanely. “Oh my god, she is so lucky. Two gorgeous billionaires fighting over who gets to marry her? I’m totally jealous.” That bitch. Julian A took a drag of his drink, used his thumb to tilt her chin up, and blew the smoke into her face with a harsh laugh. “Why? You want both of us to service you instead?” The woman practically melted into his chest, simpering. “Stop it. You know I only like you.” My sister and I made eye contact. Pure disgust. But behind the disgust in her eyes, I saw a flash of utter devastation. 02 “You lose, bro.” The dice cup was lifted. Julian A had rolled a perfect six. He didn’t seem upset. He glanced at the woman in his lap and grinned. “This little thing wants to see the Northern Lights. I’m going to take her on a trip. “The wedding is in five days. You’ll have to keep playing the part. I’ll be back before we have to sign the license.” His twin merely nodded, cold and expressionless. A few minutes later, the rest of the group started making noise about going to the track to race cars. Julian A immediately chimed in. “Losers owe me a massive wedding gift. The bride loves counting cash.” No one found the statement odd. They all laughed it off. “Don’t worry, man. We’ve got you covered.” “Alright, let’s roll. You coming, C?” Julian A asked his brother suddenly. As they rose to leave, the twin sat there for a beat, staring into space. Hearing his brother call him, he snapped back to reality and shook his head. “Nah. I’ll pass. Have to go back and keep up the act.” We all knew what “the act” meant. Only after they had both left did my sister and I poke our heads out. We both exhaled a breath we didn’t know we were holding. We looked at the dice cup on the table. Originally, we were agonizing over which one of us had to endure the wedding. Looking at it now, it seemed entirely unnecessary. By putting the pieces together, we quickly figured out who was who. The loud, obnoxious party animal was the younger brother. The cold, quiet, seemingly timid one was the older brother. “Given the current economic climate,” I said gloomily after a long silence, “I think this freelance gig just got terminated.” I thought about it for a beat, then made a proposal. “Runaway bride?” My sister nodded firmly. “If you run, I run.” 03 That night, we split up. She went to the clinic for a full medical checkup, and I went back to the penthouse to pack up the plunder. On the way back, I contacted a realtor in a quiet, coastal town three states away and secured a rental on a secluded house. I booked train tickets for five days out. The escape and the wedding would happen on the same day. When I got back to the penthouse, I ran right into the older brother. He had just stepped out of the shower. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his wet hair. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with a small jewelers box. Seeing me, he beckoned me over. I walked over to him. Without warning, he reached out, pulled me into a tight embrace, and rested his head against my chest. A cold metallic band slipped onto the ring finger of my left hand. He took my right hand, gently kissed the ring finger on that hand too, and smiled. “Baby, only five more days until we’re married. “On that day, I’m going to place the most beautiful pink diamond right here. Okay?” I suppressed the nausea rising in my gut and nodded vaguely, staying silent. He reached up to pull me down to him. Suddenly, his phone, sitting on the nightstand, buzzed. When he saw the name on the screen, his expression changed instantly. He answered, offering a crisp “Okay” to whoever was on the other end. I asked, “Are you going out?” He stood up, kissed my forehead, his voice tender. “Just some trouble at the office. I need to go handle it. Be a good girl and go to sleep. Don’t wait up.” Then he went back into the bathroom to dry his hair. His phone buzzed twice more on the nightstand. I picked it up and entered the passcode. To keep up the charade, both brothers used my birthday as their phone passcode. They both knew I never checked their phones. This was the first time. And it would be the last. He had two new text messages from a contact named “Valerie.” “Charming, heard you’re marrying that girl. I can’t possibly miss a show like that.” “I’m back. Come pick me up. Miss you.” Valerie. I repeated the name to myself. Suddenly, a memory surfaced. Valerie. The heiress, the younger brother’s childhood sweetheart. He used to worship the ground she walked on, did whatever she wanted. She moved to Europe right after graduation. Well. Isn’t that interesting. Fully dressed, the older brother came out of the bathroom. Seeing me already lying in bed, he pressed his body down against mine. “Bye, baby.” I forced the muscles in my face into a smile. “Bye.” “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He stared at my lips, smirking. I leaned up and gave him a fleeting kiss on the cheek. He smiled, satisfied, kissed me again and again—as if he couldn’t bear to leave—before finally hauling himself up. “Go to sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” The roar of his sports car echoed from the garage below. I wiped my cheek hard, as if I had touched something filthy. Then I rolled out of bed. Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. I hadn’t packed the designer bags and jewelry in the walk-in closet yet. This was a limited-time opportunity; I couldn’t afford to waste it. I have to hand it to them; both brothers were incredibly generous. The luxury bags were all limited editions; the necklaces and rings were either emeralds or massive diamonds. Looking at a raw, massive green diamond ring, I nearly drooled. Pack it. Pack it all. 04 While packing, I stumbled across a wedding certificate. I opened it. The handwriting inside was shaky and uneven. I laid the certificate on the floor and, face devoid of emotion, used a thick black marker to completely cross out my name. I needed to remind myself. Emotions are transactional. Once a fracture appears, no matter how much you try to repair it, it can never go back to what it was. After I packed everything, I put the defaced certificate back into his safe. That safe contained everything the older brother held most precious. Suddenly, another small box caught my eye. Driven by a morbid curiosity, I pulled it out. Inside were letters. No return addresses. Only four words on the envelopes: For Valerie’s eyes only. “Val, how is New York? Are you okay?” “I heard you cried over your thesis. My Val, don’t cry. Your beautiful eyes should only shed tears of happiness.” “I found that pink diamond you wanted.” “You said you wanted a wedding dress made of stars. I’ve already designed it.” “When you wear that dress, I hope I’m the first one to take your hand.” “Val, I miss you so much. I lied. I am trying to force you to come back.” Reading these, I realized that wedding certificate was a sickening joke. Just as I was about to put the letters back. My sister texted me three screenshots. Photos of a girl holding roses. In front of her, a man was down on one knee, holding a ring box. I stared at that kneeling silhouette for a long time. When the older brother left tonight. He was wearing that exact suit. The other two photos were of diamond rings, each one breath-takingly beautiful. The caption on Valerie’s post read: “Girls, do you like pink diamonds or white diamonds? I think white diamonds are ugly.” “No accidents, just destiny. My childhood best friend proposed with a pink diamond. Congratulations to me!” Looking at the band on my ring finger, I laughed until tears came to my eyes. I ripped it off and tossed it on top of the wedding certificate in the safe. I pulled up that Instagram post, stared at it for a moment, and manually liked it. I commented: [Congratulations!] A text from the older brother popped up immediately: [Baby, there’s too much work. I won’t be back tonight. Love you.] The man who had just proposed to another woman was currently texting me “Baby” and “Love you,” acting like nothing had happened. I suddenly wanted to text back. Do you get tired of playing this role of the devoted fiancé? In the end, I resisted. I deleted the words and sent back a simple: [Okay.] 05 Three days before the escape. My sister and I were at a pawn shop, haggling with the broker over designer goods. Outside, fireworks illuminated the downtown skyline. Drones swarmed together to spell out a romantic message that had the whole city talking. “Happy Birthday, Princess Valerie.” On my birthday last year, I was stuck at a college defense. The younger brother went out to celebrate the “birthday” with my sister. That night, the city had been just as spectacularly illuminated. My sister stared out the window. “That night, I only watched the fireworks for thirty minutes, but he kept me awake in bed for half the night. When I woke up, I could only remember him proposing.” That night, when my sister came back, she told me she might actually be falling for him. I guess time breeds attachment. Tonight’s fireworks would probably last all night, but the woman meant to be in that penthouse was standing right next to me. I ran my hand over the bags on the counter and asked the pawnbroker, “Can you go any higher?” The broker smiled and held up two fingers. “It’s just garbage trash-man tactics. Don’t look at it,” I mumbled, nudging my sister with my elbow, trying to drag her out of her memories. “The owner said he’ll add another twenty thousand. Deal?” My sister, hearing the money, nodded like a bobblehead. “Yes, yes, deal!” The owner shook his head, looking a little embarrassed. “I meant two hundred. Still interested?” All three of us froze. Especially my sister and me. Our expressions went purely contorted. I grit my teeth, pushing the bags toward him. “Deal!” “Sir, add a little more, please?” My sister gripped the strap of a bag, reluctant, trying to play pitiful to squeeze out a better price. I patted her shoulder, advising her, “If we don’t sell now, we might never get cash for them.” Stepping out of the pawn shop, I received a text from the older brother, telling me to come pick him up at a private club. I looked at my sister. “Who’s going?” “I don’t feel good. You go, Sis.” I nodded. “Go back and rest. If you feel bad, buy some Ibuprofen. You know where it hurts, don’t be a martyr. We have cash now.” My sister readily agreed, clutching the bag of cash, and skipped away. She didn’t look sick at all. 06 I carried a small bag containing Advil I had just bought downstairs. The hallway of the club was long, and the lights cast a patterned reflection on the oil paintings lining the walls. At the end of the hall, roars of laughter erupted from a private room. The entire floor had been rented out by the younger brother and his entourage; ordinary people couldn’t get near it. The manager recognized me and assumed I was my sister, coming to party with Julian A. A server was just exiting the room with a tray of empty bottles. As we crossed paths, one of the bottles on the tray tipped. I reached out to steady it, and the Buddhist prayer beads around my wrist snapped. Sandalwood beads scattered across the floor. My heart gave an involuntary throb of pain. The server crouched down to help, but I stopped him. “It’s fine. Go ahead, I can get them.” As I knelt there, Valerie’s voice floated out clearly from the open door. “You guys have no idea. J-bird bet me he could lock Mu Qing down in one month. It took him two.” “He dragged her around ruining her life for six months. Finally, when she showed up with an Ivy League acceptance letter to show him, he lost his mind. He packed up and left for Europe with me that same night.” I pressed my lips together, the beads in my palm feeling icy cold. Someone laughed. “Then what?” “Then we got the older brother to help out.” Valerie let out a sigh, her voice thick with resentment. “J-bird couldn’t get over it even when we were abroad. So I gave him this idea. This time, we are definitely going to humiliate Mu Qing publicly. How dare she try to steal my spotlight? I hate her!” The older brother’s voice rang out suddenly. He sounded drunk. His slurred words were full of indulgence. “Okay, okay. Don’t be mad. You’re too pretty to frown.” “Hmph. Did you sleep with her too, just like J-bird? Those poor trailer-park women are rotten to the core.” Valerie pushed. “How is that possible? I’m not J. I don’t just sleep with anyone.” His voice dropped, sounding annoyed. “Seriously? Don’t lie to me. When she gets here later, you have to help me get revenge.” Valerie giggled, simpering. “Mhm,” he mumbled, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. “Don’t be mad, Val. You are everything to me. Those fireworks across the city were for you.” Standing outside the door, I actually started to laugh. I squeezed the beads I had gathered from the floor, pressing them into my palm until they turned red, but I couldn’t feel the pain. The Advil was tossed into a trash can by the elevator. Leaving the club, the manager chased after me. “Did you not find Mr. Vance? Let me take you up.” I offered a fake smile. “I found them. They’re still partying. I’ll just head out.” The fireworks across the city were still relentlessly going off. God, they were ugly.

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