The day after I contacted the private investigator, a stack of glossy photographs was waiting on my desk. The face of the young woman in those pictures was one I could never forget. This entire nightmare started with a simple iced caramel macchiato. Felix had handed it to me right after he got home from work. “Your favorite,” he said, his tone as casual as if it were the most natural habit in the world. I didn’t take the cup. A sudden, inexplicable weight dropped in my chest. “I stopped drinking these years ago,” I replied, keeping my voice perfectly level. He didn’t look surprised. “Really? I remember you loving them back in college.” That single sentence confirmed everything. The ‘you’ he was talking about wasn’t me. Because I spent the majority of my college years studying abroad in Europe. But I didn’t scream or throw the coffee in his face. I just forced a faint, hollow smile. “I guess tastes change when we grow up.” 1 Four years ago, during an infrastructure project in a deeply impoverished rural county, I crossed paths with a young girl being dragged away by her parents. They were forcing her into a marriage with an older man to settle family debts. Her name was Tessa. Tessa’s clothes were threadbare, her face smeared with dirt, but her eyes held a terrifyingly fierce light. Back then, I thought that light was pure resilience. Ignoring her parents’ vicious insults, I paid off their debts, rescued her from that suffocating town, and funded her entire college education. My phone buzzed. The private investigator had sent a new message. “Based on my findings, she is staying by Felix’s side to ‘repay’ him for his financial support.” My hand trembled violently around my phone. Repay his support? Let us completely ignore the fact that I was the one who pulled Tessa out of that rural hellhole. Let us talk about Felix. He was a penniless orphan who couldn’t even afford his freshman tuition. Every single step he took to reach his current status as a highly respected CEO was paved by my money and the absolute power of the Davis family. I let out a long, shaky breath, fighting back the tears burning my eyes. My hand instinctively rested over my flat stomach. A suffocating bitterness flooded my heart. A tiny life had once fluttered right there. Two years ago, I discovered I was pregnant. I was ecstatic, meticulously planning the perfect way to surprise Felix. But before I could tell him, I received a frantic call. Tessa’s parents had tracked her down on campus and were trying to kidnap her. I didn’t hesitate for a second. I called the police and rushed to the university with my security team. In my desperate attempt to pull her away from her violent father, a brutal scuffle broke out. I was shoved hard against a concrete step. And just like that, the child I had barely begun to love was gone forever. The doctors told me the physical trauma was severe. My chances of ever conceiving again were practically zero. When Tessa found out, she sobbed hysterically. She fell to her knees, swearing on her life that she would find a way to repay my sacrifice. And her grand repayment was crawling into my husband’s bed and tearing my marriage to shreds. I whipped my car around and drove straight to my parents’ estate. They were surprised to see me walk through the door unannounced. “Did Felix upset you?” my mother asked softly. Looking at the silver streaks in my parents’ hair, I swallowed the ugly truth. “No. He is just swamped with work. The house felt empty, so I wanted to come see you guys.” My father frowned slightly, though his eyes held a glimmer of approval. “He built that company from nothing. It is not an easy feat.” “But no matter how hard he works, he shouldn’t neglect his family.” I didn’t acknowledge my father’s defense of him. Instead, I took a breath and asked the question I came for. “Dad, when you first invested in Felix’s startup, didn’t you draft a contingency agreement?” My father thought for a moment and nodded. “I did. The terms stated that if he ever failed to meet my ethical expectations, his shares would revert completely to me.” “But once he proved himself and the company stabilized, that clause naturally became void,” he added. He paused for a second before continuing. “However, right before your wedding, Felix insisted on transferring half of his total shares to you as a dowry. I thought he had been through enough hardship, so I never actually had you sign the transfer documents.” I fought to keep my face neutral, masking the surge of adrenaline in my veins. “Do you still have those documents?” “Of course. I keep all the files in the study.” He retrieved the thick legal folder from his mahogany bookshelf and handed it to me. I took the contract, quickly scanned the legal jargon, and signed my name on the dotted line without a singular ounce of hesitation. I didn’t need the money. But since Felix had the audacity to betray me, he needed to prepare himself for absolute ruin. 2 The moment I returned to my empty house, I opened my laptop and loaded Felix’s corporate website. A promotional pop-up for his latest media interview immediately filled the screen. It was a ten-minute video. For nine of those minutes, the interviewer showered Felix with sickening praise. They painted him as a visionary, a man of profound integrity and charity. Every flattering adjective in the dictionary was hurled his way. Next week was his highly anticipated product launch. A cold smile tugged at my lips. I scrolled straight down to the investor relations page. As a publicly traded company, any shift in executive power or shareholder equity had to be transparent. It took me zero effort to find his corporate structure. Felix held a fifty-one percent controlling stake. But the moment my pen hit that paper in my father’s study, fifty percent of the company’s total shares transferred directly from his name to mine. I was now the largest shareholder. I only needed one more percent to secure absolute, undeniable control. Acquiring one percent of loose equity was a trivial task. I mentally mapped out a buyout strategy within seconds. Then, I clicked on the executive directory. Sure enough, Tessa’s name was sitting right there. The girl who had once looked me in the eye and swore to dedicate her life to helping others just as I had helped her. She was now my husband’s personal executive assistant. I bit the inside of my cheek, taking several deep breaths to suppress the white-hot fury burning in my chest. Felix didn’t come home until nearly midnight. In the past, I would have bombarded him with questions about why he was working so late. Tonight, I just glanced at him from the couch. “Honey, do you remember Tessa?” Felix froze instantly. He stared at me, completely paralyzed, unable to form a single syllable. I kept my voice light. “After I rescued her, I always worried her parents would drag her back to the mountains. I had no idea she ended up working as your assistant.” A thin layer of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Every word that left his mouth was a calculated lie. “I had no idea she was the student you sponsored.” I gave him a playful, exasperated look. “What are you so nervous about? I am not upset with you.” “I should actually be thanking you. If you hadn’t taken her under your wing, who knows what kind of predators would have taken advantage of a lonely girl like her.” Felix offered a stiff, awkward laugh. “I just saw that she was struggling. I wanted to help.” He practically sprinted into the bedroom after that. I watched the door click shut. The playful warmth vanished from my face, replaced by pure ice. Struggling? Of course I knew she was struggling. That was why I funded her life. That was why I pulled her out of the dirt. That was why I sacrificed my unborn child to keep her safe. And my reward was not gratitude. It was a vicious snake sinking its fangs into my marriage. If she didn’t know how to be grateful, then she couldn’t blame me for ripping away everything I had ever given her. The next morning, I slept in until eleven. Felix had left for the office hours ago. I ate a slow breakfast, watching the live feed from the private investigator. The moment I saw Tessa slip into Felix’s private office on the screen, I grabbed my keys. Every employee at his headquarters recognized me. Not a single person dared to stop me in the lobby. Because Felix had spent years meticulously crafting the image of a devoted family man, no one in the building suspected his vile affair with Tessa. Consequently, no one thought to warn him that his wife was on the elevator. I didn’t even have to rush. I simply pushed open the heavy oak doors to his private suite. I caught them hopelessly tangled together on the leather sofa, their clothes in disarray. I walked in, sat down on the armchair opposite them, and watched them with a dead expression. “It seems I arrived at a bad time.” The shock finally shattered their paralysis. They scrambled apart, frantically adjusting their clothes. Yet, there was no trace of actual remorse on their faces. Tessa looked at me, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. “Audrey. It has been a long time.” “It has,” I replied, my voice dangerously calm. “The last time we saw each other was two years ago. Right after I pulled you out of that hellhole.” “What was it you said to me back then? Something about serving me like a loyal dog to repay your debt?” Tessa’s smile dissolved instantly. I flicked my gaze between her and Felix, my tone dripping with absolute disgust. “And this is your grand repayment? Climbing into your savior’s marital bed?” Before Tessa could speak, Felix stepped forward. He softly told Tessa to wait outside. When he turned back to me, the warmth in his eyes was completely gone, replaced by a freezing hostility. “Did you really have to come here and make such an ugly scene, Audrey?” A sharp laugh escaped my throat. “I am making an ugly scene? You have been sleeping with the student I sponsored for years, and you think my presence is the ugly part?” “Audrey, watch your tone!” Felix raised his voice, his ego flaring. “I simply saw a girl who was pitiful, and I gave her an opportunity!” “An opportunity?” I sneered. “Felix, every single opportunity you have ever had in your pathetic life was handed to you by my family.” “If it weren’t for my mother and father, you would still be rotting in the gutters.” “Where exactly do you get the nerve to take the power my family gave you and use it to fund your little mistress?” Felix erupted. “Shut your mouth!” “You know exactly what state your family’s company is in! Everything I have achieved here is built on my own blood and sweat!” “You are the one relying on me now! I am the one propping up your parents’ lifestyle and their failing investments! If you don’t want to see your family go bankrupt and end up on the streets, you will keep your mouth shut and accept Tessa!” Our argument ended in absolute hostility. But my visit was not a failure. Every disgusting word that left his mouth, every vile threat he made, was crystal clear on the recording device hidden in my purse. It was the exact ammunition I needed for the killing strike. 3 I didn’t return to the house I shared with him. I drove straight to a luxury hotel suite I had booked in advance. Noah was already waiting for me in the lobby. He was another student I had sponsored years ago, and the private investigator I had hired to expose Felix. The moment he saw me, he rushed over and handed me a thick leather binder. “Ms. Davis, here is the physical summary. I sent the heavily encrypted, detailed files directly to your private server.” I took the binder with both hands and offered a genuine smile. “Thank you, Noah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. “You never have to thank me. If you hadn’t stepped in back then, my sister and I wouldn’t have survived the winter.” Once I was safely locked in my suite, I skimmed the physical documents before opening my laptop. The physical file was a broad overview of Felix and Tessa’s romantic timeline. The digital server held the real poison. Every hotel booking, every expensive dinner, every timeline discrepancy was laid out in agonizing detail. But the real treasure was buried in the final folders. It was a comprehensive paper trail of Felix’s desperate, illegal maneuvers to inflate his profit margins over the last few years. Tax evasion, corporate bribery, embezzlement. I memorized every detail, copied the financial evidence onto a secure flash drive, and anonymously mailed it to a rival executive in Felix’s company who had despised him for years. With the traps set, I stayed in the hotel, waiting quietly for the product launch next week. I wanted silence, but Felix refused to grant it. Over the course of seven days, he bombarded my phone with relentless calls and text messages. He cycled between vicious threats about ruining my family and pathetic, manipulative pleas for me to come home. I didn’t block him. I just watched the notifications pile up. On the morning of the launch, I finally sent a single text back. “See you at the venue.” Felix had no idea what that meant. Until he saw me walking down the center aisle of the auditorium. His heart must have stopped. He rushed over, grabbed my elbow, and dragged me into a secluded corner, his teeth gritted. “Audrey. What the hell are you planning?” I batted my eyelashes, looking the picture of innocence. “It is my husband’s biggest product launch. Am I not allowed to support you?” I shifted my gaze to Tessa, who was standing nervously near the backstage curtain. My voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “Or were you planning to let her stand in my place under the spotlight?” Felix, who likely had entertained that exact thought, looked like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. “No,” he muttered through clenched teeth. I beamed at him. Seeing my smile, Felix foolishly assumed I had surrendered to his threats. He let out a long breath of relief, muttered a quiet warning for me to behave, and hurried off to prep the stage. I took my VIP invitation and walked straight to the center seat in the front row, waiting comfortably for the curtain to rise. The auditorium filled. The lights dimmed. Felix stepped into the spotlight. He was practically glowing with arrogance. He delivered a charismatic opening monologue, soaking in the applause, before gesturing to the massive screen behind him for the promotional video. The moment the screen lit up, the entire auditorium inhaled a collective, horrified gasp. The sleek product animation was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a high-definition video of Felix, his face twisted in vicious rage, echoed through the massive speakers. It was the recording of him screaming at me in his office, threatening to bankrupt my family if I didn’t accept his mistress. The blood drained completely from Felix’s face. In those agonizing thirty seconds, his meticulously crafted mask of a philanthropic genius was shattered into a million pieces. A deafening wave of whispers and camera shutters flooded the room. The corporate board members sitting near me looked like they were going to be sick. Timing it perfectly, I stood up and walked onto the stage before the chaos could spiral out of control. I took the microphone. First, I offered a poised, deeply sincere apology to the investors and media present for the disruption. Then, I turned to face the crowd and officially announced the immediate termination of Felix as the Chief Executive Officer. Felix whipped his head toward me, his eyes wild. “Audrey, you have absolutely no authority to do that.” I cut him off without a shred of emotion. I projected the signed transfer documents and my newly acquired equity portfolio onto the screen. “I have every authority.” “I currently hold fifty-one percent of the total voting shares.” “I am the majority shareholder. My word is absolute law.”

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A crisp notification chime echoed from my roommate’s iPad. I instinctively looked up, my eyes landing on the glowing screen. A WhatsApp message bubble popped up, and the name of the group chat was glaringly obvious: “Free ATM Club.” Driven by some inexplicable gut feeling, I reached out and tapped the bubble. The members of the group included Connor, who had just stepped out, our landlord, and my other two roommates. “Celebrating another massive payday this month!” “All thanks to Connor’s quick thinking. Bumping up Oliver’s rent saved us a fortune!” someone texted excitedly. “Exactly! With Oliver acting as our free full-time maid, we’re saving on cleaning fees and takeout too!” another chimed in. The screen was instantly flooded with celebratory memes and laughing emojis. I stood rooted to the spot, my blood running ice cold. Because in this house, I was the only one excluded from that group. I was Oliver, the gullible ATM. 1 My fingers began to tremble uncontrollably. Swiping the screen, I scrolled up through the chat history piece by piece. Group Admin: Connor. Date created: January twelfth of last year. That was the exact day after I got a high-paying offer from a tech company and excitedly bought him drinks to celebrate. He had been plotting this since then. And judging by the tone of the messages, he and our landlord had known each other for a long time. “Gary, I found a fat sheep for us.” “He’s my college roommate. A total nerd who only knows how to work. Dumb but loaded.” Our landlord replied almost instantly. “Beautiful work, Connor. Let’s do it the usual way.” In the first few weeks, there weren’t many messages. Mostly just Gary asking when Connor planned to move in and if he needed any furniture. It wasn’t until late January, after the New Year holidays, that two more people were pulled into the chat. Felix and Dylan. They were buddies of Connor from his hometown. “Welcome to the Free ATM Club, boys.” Connor sent a GIF of confetti falling. “Bro, can we really live here for free?” Felix was clearly curious. “Absolutely! The sucker already paid the deposit.” “Connor, you’re an absolute genius!” “I freaking love this group name.” “Man, we should have met ages ago.” Dylan followed up with a starry-eyed emoji. “We’re one big happy family from now on!” Gary the landlord popped in to add. Staring at those blinding words, my stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising in my throat. I quickly pulled out my own phone, opened the camera, and recorded the entire chat history from top to bottom. When Felix and Dylan first joined, the conversation was somewhat restrained. They mostly discussed how to split the monthly rent and handle the transfers. Connor: “I set this whole thing up, so I’m taking the master bedroom with the en-suite bathroom. No objections, right?” Felix: “Dylan and I can share the big east-facing bedroom.” Dylan: “How are we splitting the money?” Connor sent a long audio message. The transcribed text was crystal clear: “This apartment is in a prime location and comes fully furnished. The market rate is somewhere between three and four thousand bucks.” He paused, then sent another text. “I told Oliver the total rent is sixty-six hundred. So technically, we should all be splitting it evenly at over two grand a head. But I just made him cover twenty-two hundred himself.” “The actual bottom-line price for this place is thirty-six hundred. We just need to split the remaining fourteen hundred.” “Since I brought you guys on board, I’ll pay six hundred. You two split the remaining eight hundred.” “As for utilities, internet, and HOA fees, I’ll Photoshop the bills and inflate the numbers.” “Whatever extra cash we squeeze out of Oliver there, we split forty-forty-twenty.” “The landlord and I take forty percent each, and you two split the remaining twenty.” “How about that? We basically get to live in a luxury apartment for free, and we might even make a profit every month.” Dylan replied instantly. “I’m totally down. What about you, Felix?” Felix sent a thumbs-up. “I’m in. A golden location and a high-end apartment like this? It’s a no-brainer.” The rent they claimed was thirty-six hundred, yet I was paying twenty-two hundred all by myself! And I was sleeping in the smallest, worst-facing bedroom in the entire apartment! What an incredible scheme. Click. The sound of the front door unlocking echoed from the entryway. I instantly shoved my phone into my pocket and exited the WhatsApp interface on his iPad. Connor walked in carrying an Amazon package. He tossed it aside, picked up his tablet, and obliviously resumed playing the trending TV show he had been binge-watching. “Oliver, is dinner ready?” he yelled toward the kitchen. “Almost done.” I turned and walked back into the kitchen, forcefully suppressing the rage boiling in my chest, pretending absolutely nothing was wrong. Just like I had done countless nights before, I pulled the hot food from the oven, set it on the dining table, and called them out to eat. 2 “Wow, the smell of this beef stew is unreal.” Felix took an exaggeratedly deep breath, a look of pure intoxication on his face. “Oliver could open a five-star restaurant with these skills.” Dylan chimed in with his usual flattery. Looking at their sickeningly fake smiles, a chill ran down my spine. “I purposely left out the onions. I know Connor can’t stand the taste.” I kept my voice perfectly flat. “You know me best, man.” Connor smiled radiantly, flashing his white teeth. “Eat up before it gets cold.” I pulled out my chair, sat down, and picked up my fork. “Oh, by the way, Oliver, Gary texted today. He said we need to pay the entire rent for next year upfront by March first.” Connor said casually, stuffing a piece of beef into his mouth. “What? Haven’t we always paid every six months?” I played along, feigning surprise. “Gary says this apartment is right downtown, and people are lining up for it.” “There are a few corporate guys working in the financial district offering more than we pay, and they’re willing to drop a whole year’s cash at once.” “He’s only keeping the price the same as a favor to me.” “But the hard condition is we have to pay all twelve months in one lump sum.” My hand hovered over my plate for a fraction of a second. Images of their dirty deals and money-splitting grins flashed through my mind. I decided to play right into his hands. “I see. I only budgeted for six months, so I’ll probably have to pull some funds from my investment accounts.” I kept my head down, staring intently at the potatoes on my plate. I couldn’t bear to look at his revolting face. “As long as you can pull it together. I was honestly worried you wouldn’t have that kind of cash on hand.” Connor let out a heavy sigh, putting on a mask of deep distress. “You know I live paycheck to paycheck. By the time I pay off my credit cards, I’ve got nothing left.” “Just thinking about a whole year’s rent makes my head spin.” “Yeah, the economy is terrible right now. Making a buck is harder than eating dirt.” Felix echoed the complaints. Listening to them put on this poverty charade, my mind replayed the endless stream of payment screenshots and transfer receipts from their group chat. The hard-earned money I bled for had become their endless bankroll to party in this metropolis. The meal tasted like sawdust. My throat felt like it was coated in sand. Yet they ate with immense pleasure, wiping the very last drop of gravy from the pot with their bread. The moment they finished, Connor collapsed onto the plush living room sofa. “I’m so stuffed. Oliver, I’m leaving the dishes to you, man.” “The season finale of my show is tonight, I gotta catch up.” Felix and Dylan also found quick excuses, slipping away into their rooms. Looking at the messy dining table. I didn’t say a single word. I just silently gathered the greasy plates and silverware. The cold water in the sink stung my knuckles. But it was nowhere near as freezing as the chill in my heart. Hearing the muffled sounds of video games and laughter bleeding through their doors. I dried my hands, walked into my tiny bedroom, and locked the door behind me. Pressing my spine against the cold wood, I let out a long, heavy breath that had been trapped in my chest. I pulled out my phone, put on my noise-canceling headphones. And opened the video I had just recorded. 3 Those chat logs were like rusty knives. Plunging into my flesh, one after another. The timeline in the video went back to the week before Thanksgiving last year. We had agreed to do a deep clean of the apartment over the weekend. But that morning, Connor woke up clutching his stomach, rolling around on the couch in agony. “Oliver, my stomach is cramping so bad. I can’t even stand up.” Seeing him pale and sweating, I actually ran three blocks in the cold to a pharmacy to buy him heavy-duty medication. I even told him to go back to bed and rest. Shortly after, Felix called. He claimed his boyfriend’s car broke down on the highway and he had to go pick him up. Then, Dylan sent a voice note complaining that his company landed a last-minute project and his whole department was forced to work overtime. In that massive apartment, I was the only one left. Thinking the place needed to be spotless for the holidays, I gritted my teeth and did all the scrubbing myself. And what was the reality? In that hidden chat, Connor posted a photo of my back as I knelt on the living room rug, violently scrubbing a stain. “Look at our free housekeeper going to town.” “Haha, he was born to do the grunt work,” Felix replied instantly. “I’m at the designer boutiques downtown right now. How do these limited-edition sneakers look?” Dylan followed up with a mirror selfie. “Sick! Drop a pin, I’m right around the corner. I’ll come meet you,” Felix texted back. “It feels so good having a servant at home.” Connor sent an emoji of a guy smoking a cigar in sunglasses. I stared at my own hunched, exhausted back on the screen. My fingernails dug so deeply into my palms they almost broke the skin. I was so exhausted that day I couldn’t even stand up straight, eating nothing but a slice of cold toast for dinner. Meanwhile, they were spending my money, ruthlessly mocking my stupidity in their little club. I took a deep breath, blinked away the burning in my eyes, and dragged the progress bar further back. A blizzard hit us last December. I caught the flu. My fever spiked to a hundred and three degrees, my bones aching so badly I didn’t have the strength to get out of bed. I texted Connor, begging him to grab some fever reducers from the convenience store downstairs on his way home from work. He refused without hesitation. “Sorry bro, I’m swamped today. I’ll probably be stuck at the office until midnight.” “Maybe you can order something on Uber Eats.” In the end, I had to drag my completely shattered body out into the snowstorm, waiting thirty minutes for a cab to the ER. I sat in a freezing hospital chair hooked up to an IV for four hours. Not a single one of them checked on me. At one o’clock that afternoon. Felix posted a receipt in the chat. It was a lavish seafood feast totaling eight hundred and eighty dollars. “The extra rent and internet money cleared today. Let’s treat ourselves, boys.” While I was delirious with a fever in the hospital, unable to even get a sip of water. They were sitting in an upscale restaurant, using my cash to feast on sweet Alaskan king crab and oysters. I clenched my jaw and kept reading. October eighteenth of last year. My birthday. I took a half-day off work, wanting to cook a huge dinner so we could celebrate together. I happily slaved away in the kitchen for three hours, laid out a massive spread, and sent a picture to our main group chat. A full thirty minutes passed before Connor replied. “Ah man, my bad Oliver. My boss just dumped a massive project on my desk. I’m not gonna make it back tonight.” “Same here, my manager is breathing down my neck.” Felix chimed in. “I’m stuck in the suburbs with a client. I can’t make it back either. Go ahead and eat without us, man. Happy birthday.” Dylan offered his excuse. That night, I sat alone at the long dining table. Listening to the wind howl outside, watching the food slowly turn cold. And where were they? In their secret group chat. Connor posted a selfie from a high-rise steakhouse with panoramic city views. Felix and Dylan were in the background, laughing hysterically and holding up champagne flutes. “Cheers! Celebrating another night of saving on dinner!” Connor captioned the photo. “That idiot is probably still sitting at home waiting for us to cut the cake.” Felix sent a crying-laughing emoji. “The slop he cooks is so bland anyway, I wouldn’t even feed it to a dog.” Dylan added his ruthless remark. Those blinding words. They ignited a raging fire in my chest, burning away every last ounce of goodwill I had left for them. The brotherhood I thought we shared. The mutual support I believed we had in this cold city. It was all one giant, humiliating joke. 4 I closed my eyes, turned off the video, and used every ounce of strength I had to steady my trembling breath. I backed the video up to the cloud, took screenshots of every single conversation, and meticulously analyzed every number mentioned. Hunched over my desk, I compared their logs with my bank statements, line by line. The more I calculated, the colder my blood ran. Without realizing it, I spent nearly a week staying up late every night. I finally matched almost every single chat screenshot to a specific transfer from my bank. I stood up and walked over to the window. Outside was the mesmerizing skyline of the city, millions of bright, warm lights. But this cramped, west-facing bedroom I was in felt as lifeless as a freezer. I would never let them drain another drop of my blood. Not a single drop. My phone screen suddenly lit up on the desk. A text from Connor. “Oliver, you asleep? My stomach is totally empty.” “I’m craving those handmade tacos from the food truck down the street.” He appended a pathetic, begging cat emoji. I stared coldly at the screen, locked my phone, and pretended I never saw it. Ten minutes later, he came over and pounded heavily on my door. I remained frozen in my chair, choosing to be deaf. After a long while, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the apartment. He went downstairs himself. I immediately slipped out of my room and crept into his master suite. I tapped his iPad awake, needing to see what they were plotting now. “Why is that idiot so quiet tonight? I’m starving.” “Probably dead asleep by now.” “Sleeping like a log. I knocked forever and got nothing. Now I have to put on a jacket and freeze my ass off going downstairs.” Connor sent an eye-rolling emoji, then dropped a massive bombshell in the chat. “Next Sunday is the deadline for next year’s rent and HOA fees.” “Once he pays up, I’m going to start some drama and find an excuse to force him out.” “Then I’ll have my brother move in. My brother said he’ll cover the rent going forward.” The chat exploded the second that message went through. Felix spammed three exclamation points. “Bro, that is an absolute kill shot!” Dylan followed up with a barrage of blurry, over-excited reaction images. No wonder they were forcing me to pay a full year upfront. They had dug a massive grave and were just waiting to bury me in it. I quickly screen-recorded the conversation, retreated to my room like a ghost, and continued reconciling the final batch of bills. Want to bleed me dry? Want to kick me to the curb? Keep dreaming. But once I calmed down, thinking about Connor’s reminder for the annual rent and the cut they were taking, something didn’t add up. Based on their percentage split, Gary the landlord was risking a felony by forging leases and faking bills just to make a couple of hundred bucks extra a month. The risk-to-reward ratio made zero sense. That wasn’t Gary’s style. He was a shrewd businessman. I opened up an apartment rental website, typed in our building’s name, and messaged a few brokers about the real market rates for a unit like ours. The broker’s reply hit me like a sledgehammer. “Sir, for a unit with that floor plan in your building, if it’s newly renovated with high-end furniture, the monthly rent is around forty-five hundred.” “If it’s an unfurnished, older unit like you described, it sits at around three thousand dollars.” “And if the interior hasn’t been maintained well, the price is negotiable. You could get it down to twenty-five hundred.” The apartment we were in had outdated fixtures, and the furniture was a mismatched collection of thrift store finds. Some of it was literally picked up off the curb. If they were really making a killing off this place, the true bottom line had to be significantly lower than three thousand. I sat frozen in front of my monitor, my mind racing. If he wasn’t even making a few hundred extra dollars on the spread, why would the landlord risk going to jail to help them fake a lease? Was he getting a much bigger cut somewhere else?

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The day I picked up my daughter from kindergarten and found her sobbing was the day I realized just how massive a storm my simple refusal had caused in the parents’ group chat. The day before, a notification had popped up in the class WhatsApp group. A mother I had never even spoken to tagged me directly, demanding that I pack a daily lunch for her son. She generously offered to pay me twenty dollars a day for my trouble. I found the entire proposition absurd. Charity suffered from severe food allergies and a highly sensitive stomach. Every single ingredient in her bento box was flown in directly from specific organic farms. A single meal cost me well over five hundred dollars to prepare. Faced with this insulting twenty-dollar charity offer, I didn’t hesitate. I typed a flat refusal into the group. I never expected things to escalate the very next day. My daughter’s lunchbox was snatched away by her classmate, and the teacher actually had the nerve to scold her for being selfish. Since they had decided to rip off the mask of civility, I saw no reason to play nice anymore. This ridiculous farce needed to be completely dismantled. 1 Staring at the constant stream of notifications popping up on my phone, I let out a cold laugh. The sender’s profile picture was a selfie with her son. Her display name was Toby’s Mom. Seeing that I hadn’t replied, she fired off several more messages in rapid succession. “Charity’s mom, are you seeing this? My Toby hasn’t had much of an appetite the last couple of days, but he really liked the look of Charity’s lunch.” “You’re already cooking anyway. Making one extra portion won’t kill you.” “Twenty dollars a day is plenty. That’s what a meal costs at a fast-food joint. I know it’s not easy being a single mom, so just treat it as some extra grocery money to help out your household.” The condescending, charitable tone dripping from her words made my stomach turn. I had no idea where she heard the rumor that I was a single mother. It was true that I always did the school run alone, and I usually dressed in casual loungewear. She had clearly pegged me as an easy target. My daughter Charity was born with a hyper-sensitive digestive system and severe allergies to many common ingredients. Because of this, I personally handled every single aspect of her diet. Her food was sourced from exclusive private farms. Just a small cut of the premium Wagyu beef I used cost hundreds of dollars, not to mention the meticulously selected organic vegetables. Twenty dollars? That wouldn’t even cover the cost of her custom lunchbox. I couldn’t be bothered to entertain her delusions. I simply typed a response into the group. “Sorry, I don’t have the time. Furthermore, the ingredients for my daughter’s meals are very expensive. Twenty dollars won’t cover it.” I assumed such a blunt rejection would shut her up. Instead, she immediately sent a long string of voice memos. “Oh come on, Charity’s mom. We’re all parents in the same class. What’s wrong with helping each other out?” “It’s just a few pieces of meat and some leaves. How expensive could it possibly be? Do you really think you’re feeding her Michelin-star truffles?” “Besides, what’s the point of feeding a little girl so extravagantly? My Toby is a growing boy and needs the nutrition. How can you be so selfish and clueless?” Listening to those voice notes, a white-hot rage flared in my chest. What century were we living in? I couldn’t believe this toxic garbage was coming out of another woman’s mouth. I was just typing out a furious retort when the homeroom teacher, Ms. Harper, chimed in. “Charity’s mom, Toby’s mom is just looking out for her child. Our class has always encouraged the kids to learn how to share.” “Since Toby likes Charity’s food so much, it wouldn’t hurt for you to put in a little extra effort. It will help the children bond and build a good relationship.” Seeing Ms. Harper so blatantly take her side, my expression turned ice-cold. I had just transferred Charity to this supposedly prestigious bilingual preschool. I thought a high-end academy would have a higher caliber of staff. I was clearly mistaken. I ignored the rest of the buzzing notifications and tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. They could say whatever they wanted. There was absolutely no way I was cooking for that brat. 2 The next afternoon, I arrived at the school to pick up Charity. The moment I stepped into the hallway, I saw my little girl standing completely alone in a corner. Her eyes were red and swollen. She had obviously been crying. My heart twisted violently. I rushed over and pulled her into my arms. “Charity, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” Seeing me, Charity burst into loud sobs, her tiny hands gripping my sweater like a lifeline. “Mommy, I’m so hungry. Toby took my lunch away.” Hearing those words, a loud buzzing filled my ears. I packed exactly enough food for her nutritional needs. If she didn’t eat her lunch, she had been starving for the entire day! More importantly, her delicate constitution meant that missing a meal could easily trigger severe hypoglycemia and stomach cramps. Suppressing the fury boiling in my veins, I turned and marched straight toward Ms. Harper. The teacher was chatting and laughing with a group of other parents. When she saw me approaching, her smile vanished. “Charity’s mom, you’re right on time. I was just about to look for you.” “Charity was very unreasonable during lunchtime today. Toby just wanted a little taste of her food, and she threw a massive tantrum and refused to share. She even made Toby cry.” “I’ve already reprimanded Charity. I suggest you take her home and teach her some manners. A child shouldn’t be so terribly selfish.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My daughter’s food was stolen from her, and somehow she was the one in the wrong? “Ms. Harper, the lunch my daughter brought belongs to her. Why on earth should she be forced to give it to someone else? Is this how you run a classroom?” I didn’t bother lowering my voice. The surrounding parents all turned to stare. Feeling humiliated in front of her audience, Ms. Harper puffed up her chest and hardened her tone. “Excuse me? What kind of attitude is that? It is completely normal for children to share food!” “Besides, Toby’s mom already reached out to you in the group chat yesterday. You refused to cook an extra portion, fine. But what’s the big deal if Toby takes a couple of bites today?” “Do you have no sense of community spirit whatsoever?” I was shaking with anger. I pointed a finger directly at Ms. Harper’s face. “Don’t you dare try to lecture me about community spirit! My daughter’s lunch is a specially customized allergy-safe meal. That boy stole her food, you did absolutely nothing to stop him, and now you have the nerve to call my daughter selfish?” “Let me make this perfectly clear. This is not over!” Without waiting for a response, I picked Charity up and walked straight out the door. When we got home, I immediately cooked Charity a fresh meal. Watching her devour the food like she was starving brought tears to my eyes. I pulled out my phone and tagged Toby’s mom and Ms. Harper directly in the class group. “I expect a full explanation for what happened at lunch today! Since when is it acceptable to steal another child’s food?” “I will be waiting at the school tomorrow morning. If I don’t get a formal apology for my daughter, there will be hell to pay!” The response was instantaneous. “Wow, look who’s playing the victim now!” “My Toby eating a few bites of your kid’s food is a blessing. Don’t push your luck, you ungrateful witch!” “Tomorrow morning it is. You think I’m scared of a nobody like you?” 3 The parents’ group chat was exceptionally lively that night. Following her arrogant outburst, Toby’s mom, Brenda, began aggressively rallying the mob against me. “Everyone, judge for yourselves. This woman couldn’t even keep a man, so now she’s a bitter single mother with a twisted personality.” “My Toby just felt sorry for her daughter. He was trying to be friendly by sharing her food, and now she’s screaming and throwing a fit in the group.” “A kid raised in a broken home like that is definitely going to have psychological issues. You all better keep your kids away from her daughter before they catch her bad habits.” A few mothers who usually sucked up to Brenda immediately jumped in to agree. “Exactly! Acting all high and mighty all day long. Does she think her food is sprinkled with gold dust?” “Kids from single-parent homes are always so greedy and defensive. I think Ms. Harper was totally right to discipline her.” “Don’t waste your breath on her, Brenda. Your husband is an executive at a massive corporation. You don’t need to stoop to the level of some lower-class trash.” I stared coldly at the screen, reading those nauseating comments. My fingers flew across the keyboard. “Lower-class trash? A corporate executive?” “So that’s what gives you the confidence to steal from little girls?” “Since you all think thievery is perfectly justified, we will settle this face-to-face tomorrow. We will see exactly who doesn’t deserve to be at this school!” After sending that message, I closed WhatsApp. Rage was churning wildly in my chest, but I forced myself to remain perfectly calm. This Brenda woman was throwing her weight around the preschool just because her husband had a decent job title. Even the teachers were bending over backwards to kiss her ring. Did she really think her pathetic little background made her untouchable in this city? I walked out to the balcony and dialed my assistant’s number. “Sarah. Get me the security camera access codes for Oakridge Elite Prep for tomorrow morning. And look into a parent named Brenda. Find out everything there is to know about her husband’s corporate background.” “I want every single detail. Pull all their cards.” Hanging up the phone, I took a deep breath of the crisp night air. I had purposely kept a low profile to give Charity a quiet, normal childhood. I even had my driver attend the parent-teacher conferences so I wouldn’t draw attention. I never expected my restraint to become a stepping stone for these arrogant fools to walk all over me. Since they were so determined to step on my head, they couldn’t blame me for tearing their entire world down. Early the next morning, I arrived at the preschool with Charity exactly on time. Instead of heading to the classroom, I led Charity straight toward the principal’s office. I was going to have the director pull the security footage right then and there to expose exactly what happened yesterday. But halfway down the hall, Charity suddenly tugged on my sleeve. “Mommy, I left my sketchbook in the classroom. Can I go get it real quick?” I nodded, letting her run ahead while I waited in the corridor. Less than two minutes later, a piercing, terrified scream echoed from the classroom. It was Charity. My heart stopped. I sprinted toward the door as fast as I could. The moment I burst into the room, my vision went red. 4 Charity was collapsed on the floor, her pale little face stained with tears. That overweight boy, Toby, was violently tearing pages out of Charity’s sketchbook, making ugly faces at her as he ripped her drawings to shreds. And standing right beside him was his mother, Brenda. She held a dry, cheap piece of grocery store bread in her hand, ruthlessly shoving it toward Charity’s mouth. “Eat it! You love protecting your food so much, you little brat? I’ll make sure you get plenty to eat today!” “My Toby wanting your things is an honor! Don’t you dare hide from me!” Charity was struggling frantically, coughing and choking on the dry crumbs. Her face was flushed bright red, and she could barely breathe. Seeing Charity trying to push away, Brenda lifted her foot and brought the sharp heel of her stiletto crashing down squarely on Charity’s tiny hand as it rested on the floor! “Ahhh!” Charity let out an agonizing shriek. In that split second, the blood rushed to my head. My sanity completely snapped. I charged in like a wild animal. I kicked a desk out of my way, the massive crash startling everyone in the room. I grabbed a fistful of Brenda’s hair, violently slamming her back against the nearest wall. I pulled my arm back and delivered a vicious, echoing slap across her face! Smack! I put every ounce of my strength into that strike. Brenda was completely stunned, a trickle of blood instantly appearing at the corner of her mouth. I didn’t stop. I immediately followed up with a second brutal slap to the other side of her face. “If you ever touch my daughter again, I will kill you!” I screamed like a madwoman, my eyes bloodshot. Brenda finally snapped out of her daze. She shrieked like a banshee and lunged at me. “You psychotic bitch! How dare you hit me! Do you have any idea who my husband is!” She grabbed a heavy glass tumbler from the teacher’s desk and hurled it directly at my head. I dodged to the side. The glass shattered against the wall, sending shards flying everywhere. Brenda snatched up a large, jagged piece of broken glass and pointed it at me, her eyes venomous like a coiled snake. “My husband is Greg, the Regional Director of Apex Capital! You dare lay a hand on me? I’ll have you and your little bastard completely destroyed! I’ll make sure you can never show your faces in Chicago again!” Just then, Ms. Harper and two security guards rushed into the classroom, drawn by the commotion. Seeing the chaos, Ms. Harper didn’t even ask what happened. She immediately pointed an accusing finger at me. “Charity’s mom, have you lost your mind?! How dare you assault another parent on school grounds!” “Grab her, quick! If Toby’s mom gets hurt, you’ll never be able to afford the medical bills!” The security guards instantly closed in on me. Holding the jagged glass, Brenda let out a twisted, incredibly arrogant laugh. “Scared now? Too late! I’m going to make you and your brat get on your knees and lick my shoes clean!” Looking at her sickening, entitled face, I pulled Charity tightly into my arms. The coldness in my eyes could have frozen hell over.

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1 I got a video. It was from her assistant. On the screen, my wife was locked in a passionate kiss with him—in my car. There were even wet stains glistening on our son’s child safety seat. The excuse? She’d lost a game of dare. I forwarded the video to her directly. “Is Belmont Enterprises going bankrupt, Victoria? Is my car the only place you can afford for your little affair?” Her reply was a voice message, her tone syrupy with wine and flirtation. “We have a business arrangement, Zac. Did you actually start thinking you were my husband? It was just a game. Why are you getting so worked up over nothing?” A cold laugh escaped me. It was time to teach her that some games have consequences you have to pay for. … I made a single call and killed the massive overseas deal Belmont Enterprises was set to sign next week. A moment later, my phone blew up with calls from my wife, Victoria Belmont. My secretary fielded every one of them. “I’m sorry, Ms. Belmont, Mr. Kingsley is in a meeting.” She wanted to play the silent game? Fine. I could play too. It didn’t take long. Victoria stormed into my office, her heels clicking like gunshots on the marble floor. She slammed her palm down on my desk. “Zac, have you lost your mind? That’s a three-hundred-million-dollar deal! You’re going to ruin my company over a stupid dare?!” The ever-poised, sophisticated Victoria Belmont, now screeching like a banshee. All for another man. I set down the financial report I was reading and looked up at her, my eyes tracing the furious twist of her beautiful features. “You have fifteen minutes.” Ten minutes later, a picture arrived on my phone. The interior of my Maybach, spotless and pristine, being detailed by a professional cleaning crew. I immediately notified the overseas department. “The signing proceeds as planned.” Then, I sent Victoria a picture of my own. Her most treasured couture gown, the one she adored, was trampled on the floor. Her favorite pair of custom-designed heels were submerged in a filthy mop bucket. “This is a game of dare too, Victoria. Remember where my lines are drawn. This is just a warning. Piss me off again, and you won’t like the consequences.” Silence from her end. I knew she was incandescent with rage. But my own anger burned hotter. She was the one who pushed for this marriage between the Kingsley and Belmont families. She was the one who rejected the idea of an open relationship, insisting on a real commitment. In six years, we went from polite strangers to a true partnership, a team. Especially after our son, Noah, was born. I poured everything I had into our family, leveraging my power to make both our family companies flourish. I thought we had an agreement. A life we would build together, supporting each other until we could retire, old and successful. But she had just shattered that illusion. That three-hundred-million-dollar deal I’d briefly suspended? That was just the opening shot. 2 That night, for the first time in our marriage, Victoria didn’t come home. The next day, I walked straight into the Belmont Enterprises headquarters and took the executive elevator to the top floor. The reception area was empty. Normally, both our assistants would be stationed here. I hadn’t brought mine today, but where was hers? A wave of unrestrained laughter drifted from her office, slicing through the silence. Through the gaps in the blinds, I saw him—her assistant, Ryan Cole—holding a hairdryer, attentively styling her hair. Victoria was leaning back in her executive chair, a relaxed smile on her face as they chatted. She had always been a person who valued her personal space. Besides me, no one was ever allowed to linger in her office. But the casual intimacy she showed Ryan was a knife twisting in my gut. Even more jarring was the watch on Ryan’s wrist, its metallic sheen catching the light. It was the exact custom timepiece she’d picked out for me on her last trip abroad. My birthday gift. An intern like Ryan couldn’t afford a single link of that watch, even if he sold himself piece by piece. I pushed the door open. Ryan jumped as if electrocuted, dropping the hairdryer. A sycophantic smile stretched across his face. “Mr. Kingsley, what brings you to this part of the building?” I gave him a look that could freeze fire. “I’m a director and general manager of this company. The last person I need to explain my presence to is an intern.” I leveled my gaze at him. “Go get the head of HR. I want to ask her when the hiring standards at this company dropped so low.” Ryan shot a desperate look at Victoria. She gave him a slight nod, a silent order to make himself scarce. As he turned to leave, my voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. “Take off the watch.” He froze, his hand instinctively covering the timepiece as he looked at Victoria like a kicked puppy. My eyes were locked on hers. “Explain,” I demanded, my voice low. “Why is my birthday present on his wrist? The deposit slip is still in my desk drawer.” Victoria’s expression hardened with impatience. “He’s my assistant. He represents my image. You made such a scene about him being in your car, people are looking down on him. So I gave him a watch to help his professional appearance. What’s the big deal? Your own assistant wears custom-tailored suits you paid for.” “My assistant is a professional who earns his compensation through competence,” I sneered. “What has this parasite done to deserve anything? Or does he just… service you well?” Her face went pale, then flushed a deep, furious red. “It’s just a watch! Consider it compensation for the humiliation you put him through!” she shot back. “I’ll buy you a better one for your birthday, okay?” 3 I laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “A limited-edition masterpiece. What gives him the right to wear it?” “Victoria, a person needs to act in accordance with their station.” I took a step closer, my voice dropping to an icy whisper. “Mrs. Kingsley wears exclusive jewelry, couture gowns, and limited-edition heels. That is as it should be.” “But for a mistress to access that level of luxury… money alone isn’t enough.” Victoria erupted. “Zac, we have important work to discuss! Ryan has put an immense amount of effort into this deal. I need you to leave, now!” She was actually shouting at me. For this leech. “Fine,” I said with a chilling smile. “Let’s see what your brilliant assistant is truly capable of.” In a fit of pique, Victoria snatched her handbag and threw it at Ryan before storming out. He shot me a smug, greasy smirk before scurrying after her. I waited until the sound of her heels faded completely, then I made a call. “It’s time. Make sure Mr. Donovan gives them the welcome they deserve.” I ordered a coffee and settled into a chair by the floor-to-ceiling window. I’d barely taken two sips when Victoria called, her voice so shrill I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Zac, you despicable bastard!” “Donovan just ripped up the contract in front of everyone! He called Ryan a kept man who services rich women and then he… he accused me of sleeping my way to the top!” “This was you! You set this up! I was blind to ever marry you!” I calmly set my cup down. “People say what they want, Victoria. How can I control that? If your conscience was clear, you’d have nothing to fear.” Before I could finish, she shrieked. “The deal is dead, and Ryan ran off completely humiliated! Are you satisfied now?” A slow smile spread across my face. “Satisfied? I’m just putting things back where they belong.” She hung up with a strangled sob. I called HR and had every trace of Ryan Cole scrubbed from the company. I thought I’d given her enough of a warning, enough of a chance to back down with a shred of dignity. If she would just behave, be my wife again, we could move past this. But she had no intention of taking the lifeline I’d thrown her. 4 Our son, Noah, was running a fever of 101.3°F, and he was clingier than ever. I stayed home with him all day, holding his hand through the IV drip, playing quietly by his side. When Victoria came downstairs, dressed to go out again, Noah’s small, weak voice stopped her. “Mommy, don’t go!” She hesitated for a moment, then sat down on the edge of the bed. Seeing the relieved smile on my son’s face, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe she was coming to her senses. But that fragile moment of peace was shattered by the jarring ring of her phone. It was Ryan, his voice thick with fake tears. “Victoria, someone’s following me! And online… they’re calling me a gigolo, a leech, a homewrecker!” “Is Mr. Kingsley trying to destroy me? Please, just tell him I’ll stay away from you. Tell him to just leave me alone!” I didn’t even look up, just continued building a block tower with Noah. I had expected Ryan would face some backlash, but he was laying it on thick. Victoria, however, reacted as if her own tail had been stepped on. She slammed her phone onto the coffee table with such force that it cracked. Noah, startled by the noise, burst into tears. She didn’t even glance at him. Instead, she rounded on me, her face a mask of fury, pointing a shaking finger at my nose. “Enough, Zac! I am sick to death of you and your manipulative games, acting like you control everything and everyone!” “You already drove Ryan away, why can’t you just let him be?” “I married you, I didn’t sell myself to you! You have no right to police every aspect of my life!” My patience snapped. “If you want to scream, get out!” I pointed toward the door. “Don’t you dare scare our son!” She let out a bitter laugh. “You want to destroy him, Zac? Fine. I’ll be the one to protect him!” And with that, ignoring Noah’s desperate cries, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I watched her go, a cold darkness settling over me. She’d truly lost her mind. After getting Noah back to sleep, I opened my laptop. The morning’s gossip about Ryan the homewrecker had been buzzing everywhere. By the afternoon, it had all vanished. She’d used the company’s PR department. For him. It was pathetic. I was about to close the laptop when I saw it. An official statement, issued by Belmont Enterprises. It praised Ryan Cole’s “outstanding professional abilities,” condemned the “malicious rumors,” and threatened legal action. Simultaneously, a message from my own HR head popped up. Victoria had officially promoted Ryan Cole to Operations Manager. He was given a private office on the executive floor and a vice-president’s compensation package. My assistant forwarded me a screenshot from Ryan’s social media. There he was, smug and triumphant in a new bespoke suit, that damn watch glittering on his wrist. I stared at the screen, a humorless smile twisting my lips. Fine, Victoria. You want to prop up this parasite? Don’t blame me for what comes next. After setting my own plans in motion against her company, I rushed home, only to find Noah gone. “Where is he?” I demanded of the nanny. “M-Ma’am came back,” she stammered. “She took the young master with her…” The rage I’d been suppressing finally erupted. My assistant tracked Victoria’s location to an amusement park, and I sped there, my heart pounding with a terrible premonition. I found them near the carousel. Victoria and Ryan were walking ahead, whispering intimately, completely oblivious to our sick little boy stumbling to keep up behind them. Noah’s small face was flushed red with fever and slick with sweat, his voice a choked plea. “Mommy… slow down… it hurts… wait for me…” A cruel, vicious smile curled Ryan’s lips. He subtly stuck his foot out. Thump. Noah fell hard onto the pavement. He was stunned for a second, then his face crumpled, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail. Victoria instinctively moved to help him, but Ryan spoke first, his voice dripping with faux innocence. “Victoria, do you think… maybe he doesn’t like me? Is he faking it to get attention?” At his words, Victoria froze. Her hand dropped. She turned and glared down at her own crying son. “Ryan was kind enough to bring you here to have fun, and you’re faking falls? Why are you being so difficult?” I was a blur of motion. I sprinted past them and scooped my sobbing, hyperventilating child into my arms. The fire of my fury was hot enough to burn the world to ash. Victoria’s face paled. “Ryan said I shouldn’t have left Noah when he was sick,” she explained, her voice frantic. “He suggested I bring him to the park to make it up to him…” “He’s two years old,” I said, my voice dangerously calm as I looked at her over our son’s shaking shoulders. “What could he possibly do at an amusement park? Watch you two flirt? Or get tripped on purpose by your boy-toy?” The air went still. Ryan’s triumphant smirk froze on his face. Victoria’s eyes widened in shock, an angry flush quickly replacing it. “Zac, don’t twist our good intentions! We were just—” I held my son tighter, his terrified sobs muffled against my chest. I cut her off. “Victoria. We’re getting a divorce.”

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On April Fool’s Day, our family went out for a trip. As we walked, I suddenly realized our daughter had disappeared. I frantically called the police. The moment the officers arrived and I began explaining the situation, my mother-in-law Catherine contradicted me. “Didn’t you send Lily to your parents’ house? She didn’t come on this trip with us. Why are you calling the police?” The police looked stunned for a moment, then their expressions turned serious. “Ma’am, what’s really going on here? Filing a false police report is a crime!” Sweat poured down my face as I hurriedly explained. “Lily came with us. Catherine is just making an April Fool’s joke. Don’t listen to her!” The officer nodded and was about to start searching when Catherine interjected again. “Officer, you don’t know this, but Emma has mental issues. She’s filed false reports several times before.” I trembled with rage, wanting nothing more than to slap duct tape over her mouth. Catherine loved April Fool’s Day more than anything. Every year on this day, she’d throw the entire household into chaos. Before leaving home, I’d warned her repeatedly not to cause any trouble, but I never expected her old habits to resurface at a time like this. Thinking of Lily, whose whereabouts were still unknown, I desperately shoved Catherine. “What time do you think it is? You’re still obsessing over your April Fool’s Day! If anything happens to Lily, I’ll never forgive you!” Though I didn’t push hard, Catherine staggered backward repeatedly, as if about to fall. “Officers, you all saw that, right? Emma has mental problems.” “Before we left, I specifically asked her mother to look after Lily. Look, I have proof.” She pulled out her phone and showed them a screenshot of a chat conversation. It showed that this morning, she had specifically instructed my mother: Make Lily fried eggs for lunch today. I stared in disbelief at my mother’s reply. This was impossible! Lily was allergic to eggs. Catherine never cared about Lily, so her not knowing was normal. But my mother knew. She would never have agreed to this. I immediately tried calling my mother to verify. But unluckily, at that exact moment, my mother’s phone was turned off. I spun around anxiously, telling myself to stay calm. Suddenly, I thought of something and snatched Catherine’s phone. The screenshot timestamp showed last night at eight o’clock. But the actual chat record was from this morning. “Officer, look! This screenshot is fake. Catherine doctored it. Don’t believe her. Please help me find Lily!” My fingers shook as I pleaded desperately. “Lily has asthma. If she has an attack and can’t find her family, the consequences will be unthinkable!” The officer looked between us suspiciously. Seeing my panicked expression, he finally nodded in agreement. But just as they were about to begin the search, Catherine spoke up again. “Oh my, officer, I really can’t stand watching this anymore. I only faked that screenshot because I didn’t want you to be deceived by her.” “The truth is, this ‘daughter’ she’s talking about is a dog!” She even pulled up photos of our dog. The officer’s face darkened as he sternly rebuked her. “What exactly is going on here? Police reports are not a game. Please show us some respect!” By now, a crowd had gathered around us. After hearing Catherine’s words, they all turned to criticize me. “Making a police report over a lost dog? And lying about it being your daughter—aren’t you afraid of karma?” “Exactly. At her age, she should be a mother herself. She should know better than to act like this.” “Catherine is the reasonable one. Emma is absolutely outrageous!” After hearing Catherine’s words, my vision swam with rage. “What time do you think it is? You’re still lying! Even jokes have their time and place!” I turned to face the officer, struggling to control my emotions. “We do have a dog, that’s true, but I really do have a daughter. Look, I have proof!” I pulled out photos of Lily and me together. In the picture, Lily was hugging me, her face beaming with joy. Only then did the officer slowly nod, turning to Catherine with clear anger. “Ma’am, please stop lying. If something happens, you’ll face legal consequences!” Catherine laughed it off with obvious satisfaction. “I’m so sorry, everyone. I was just playing an April Fool’s joke with you all. I didn’t expect you to take it so seriously.” Just as my heart began to settle, after taking only two steps, Catherine spoke up again.

“But there’s something I absolutely must mention.” As she spoke, tears even began to well up in her eyes. “Emma is Lily’s stepmother. Lily has been abused by her since she was little. I’m just an old woman—I want to stop it but I’m powerless.” “With no other choice, I secretly sent the child to her birth mother.” Hearing her words, a deep sense of helplessness spread through my entire body. Catherine did this every time. On April Fool’s Day, no matter the occasion, she had to deceive people. I remembered the April Fool’s Day when Lily had just turned one. She lied and told me Lily was having an asthma attack and wasn’t going to make it. When I got that call, I felt like I’d lost my soul. I drove home desperately. But in my panic, I got into a car accident on the way. A long, hideous scar remained on my left arm. Looking at me in the hospital bed, Catherine just said dismissively: “April Fool’s Day is for playing jokes. Who knew you’d be stupid enough to believe it?” “Besides, the car accident was your own fault for not watching the road.” So every year, especially on April Fool’s Day, I kept Lily as far away from her as possible. But this morning when we were leaving, Catherine had clung desperately to the car door and climbed in. I told myself that as long as I kept a careful eye on her, nothing serious would happen. I never imagined that the moment we got out of the car, this would happen. After hearing everything, the police moved to take me away for questioning. “Child abuse is a serious crime. You need to come with us to the station!” The crowd’s spit practically flew in my face. “Disgusting! Not her own child, so she doesn’t know how to care for her. What a monster!” “Take her away right now! People like her need to spend a few days in jail to learn their lesson!” Just as I was about to be dragged away, my scalp felt like it would explode with panic. Thinking of Lily unable to find her family, feeling helpless and alone. Thinking of Lily having an asthma attack, only able to collapse on the ground struggling for breath. My heart felt like it was being stabbed. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at Catherine’s fake-serious expression. I wanted nothing more than to rip her lying mouth apart. I fought to control my emotions. “Officer, I can guarantee Lily is truly my biological daughter. No matter what, please help me find Lily first!” “I can provide all the necessary evidence afterward!” After hearing this, Catherine rushed between the police and me, grabbing my sleeve and yanking it up. “Officer, don’t let her fool you! She just wants to continue abusing Lily.” “Look at this scar on her arm. I got this years ago fighting with her to protect Lily.” When this horrifying scar was revealed, everyone gasped. The officer’s face hardened as he shouted sternly. “What is really going on here! If you two keep lying, we’ll take you both in for questioning!” I stared daggers at Catherine, my eyes practically shooting flames. “This scar is from the car accident I had because of your lies! You’re an old woman fighting with me—you come out fine while I get injured like this? Is that even possible?” “Officer, please believe me. If any problems arise afterward, I’ll take full responsibility.” Considering the child’s safety and the urgency of finding her, the officer nodded and prepared to take us to search in different directions. Catherine kept chattering, trying to continue her interference. “Your police work really isn’t that competent if you can’t even tell who’s telling the truth!” But no one paid attention. Our group got in the car, leaving her behind. The police took me to the surveillance room as quickly as possible. But when we watched the footage of the moment Lily disappeared, everyone’s eyes widened.

The surveillance showed that when I stopped the car to get something, Lily bounced down from the vehicle cheerfully. The next second, Catherine suddenly pulled her behind the car. After that, Lily never appeared again. My chest heaved violently, my ears buzzing. Just then, Catherine arrived and opened the door. I lunged forward and grabbed her collar. “Tell me! Where did you hide Lily? Why would you do this!” Her expression changed, then she forced herself to stay calm. “Oh, I just hid her in the trunk to scare you a little and test these officers’ competence.” “Today is April Fool’s Day. Don’t you people have any sense of humor?” I had no time for her nonsense. I threw her aside and sprinted outside. Lily already had asthma. Being trapped in the trunk for so long—the consequences were unthinkable! But when I reached the car, gasping for breath, and opened the trunk, there was nothing inside. My legs gave out and I collapsed to the ground. The others caught up immediately. Seeing the empty trunk, their faces changed color too. I rushed forward, ready to fight her with everything I had, but the police held me back. Seeing this, Catherine slapped her thigh and sat on the ground wailing. “You can’t blame me for this! I only hid her in the trunk as a joke for you all.” “How was I supposed to know she’d disappear? She has legs of her own. She probably just ran off wherever she wanted to go.” The officer tried to comfort me. “Ms. Harper, don’t worry. We’ll continue investigating and we will find your child.” “We’ve already stationed someone at the surveillance room.” Soon, they called from the surveillance room. Unfortunately, the rear of the car was in a blind spot. Whatever happened afterward, the surveillance cameras couldn’t capture it. To track Lily’s movements, they’d have to continuously pull footage from all the surrounding cameras. Everything spun around me. Lily’s whereabouts were unknown, and she had asthma on top of that. Every minute we delayed finding her meant another minute of danger! I turned to Catherine, softening my tone, trying to appeal to whatever conscience she might have. “Catherine, you’ve had your fun now, haven’t you? I’m begging you, please stop lying. Just tell me where Lily is!” “You locked her in the trunk—how could she possibly have gotten out on her own!” Catherine pursed her lips and turned her head away. “I put her in the trunk and left. Maybe I didn’t close it properly and she just ran off.” “I’ve been saying this girl is ungrateful, but you never believed me. She just abandoned you to find some richer family.” I glared at her fiercely, the red in my eyes making her flinch and finally shut her mouth. Just when everyone was running around like headless chickens with no idea where to start searching… I suddenly thought of something and looked toward the rear of the car.

I immediately opened my phone app and called the police over to check with me. In my panic earlier, I’d completely forgotten that we had a backup camera installed at the rear. The surveillance video from this camera could be stored for seven days. With trembling hands, I pulled up the surveillance footage, then froze in place. Several large words appeared on the screen. [Surveillance Signal Error] I frantically scrolled the timeline back. The last frame the surveillance showed was from this morning, right before we left—Catherine’s hand reaching toward it. After that, the video went completely black. It was her again! She destroyed the surveillance! The hope that had barely ignited was extinguished once more. My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight by a giant hand. I went completely mad, screaming uncontrollably. “What exactly do you want? Are you trying to kill Lily?” “If anything happens to Lily, I’ll make sure you don’t die in peace either!” After hearing this, Catherine actually started crying first, covering her mouth. “At my age, how would I know anything about cameras? I just accidentally broke it when I opened the trunk. Do you have to be like this?” “Besides, she’s not a three-year-old child. She’s in fourth grade. Doesn’t she know not to run around?” “And honestly, this child doesn’t even look like Ryan. For all we know, she’s run off somewhere to find her real father.” My teeth ground together audibly, the rage in my heart becoming harder and harder to suppress. Just as I raised my hand, ready to slap her across the face, my phone suddenly buzzed with a message. After reading it, I lowered my arm and looked at Catherine with a smile. “Catherine, I’m so sorry. I got carried away just now.” “You’re right. If the child ran off, she ran off. If we can’t find her, we’ll just have another one.” “Let’s go home first.” Catherine looked me up and down suspiciously. Only when she saw me actually get in the car did she climb in too. Seeing me calmly start the engine, she finally let her guard down. “That’s more like it. It’s normal to play jokes on April Fool’s Day. Why take it so seriously?” “That ungrateful little brat ran off on her own. It’s her own fault.” I said nothing, my grip on the steering wheel tightening, my foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. The car’s speed climbed higher and higher. After reaching our destination, I opened the door and let her out. Catherine climbed out, holding her dizzy head, then froze in shock. “Why did you bring me here? Are you insane?” I calmly pulled out my phone. “How long are you going to keep up this act?” When Catherine saw clearly what was on my phone screen… Her face turned deathly pale.

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After Alpha Lucas’s first love came back, I left without telling anyone. I didn’t tell him where I was going, and I didn’t tell him I was pregnant. The first month after I left. The Alpha didn’t care at all, spending every day doting on his first love. The second month after I left. The Alpha’s friends started placing bets on when I would come crawling back. The third month after I left. The Alpha finally panicked and sent people to search the entire territory. But they still couldn’t find a single trace of me. From that point on, the name Eleanor Smith became a forbidden topic among all werewolves. But what no one knew was that every night, he went crazy missing me. Blackwood Pack had a tradition—an annual year-end gathering that outsiders were never allowed to attend. This year, there was an uninvited guest. Lucas’s first love, the human who had once rejected him: Genevieve Roth. When the two of them walked in, the banquet had already started. Lucas had his arm half-around Genevieve as they walked straight toward me. I stared blankly at Lucas’s joyful face, and suddenly my eyes began to sting. He was the only man I’d ever loved in my life. Three years of marriage, and I still hadn’t found my way into his heart. “Get up. This isn’t your seat.” Lucas spoke seriously, not caring about my dignity at all. I was Lucas’s legitimate wife, yes, but I wasn’t the Luna in his heart. For three years, he hadn’t even been willing to truly mark me. Now that the human girl he deeply loved had returned, naturally I had to give up this position. I didn’t say no. If this had been the old me, I probably wouldn’t have accepted this humiliation. But after all these years, my heart had long been shattered, and I’d already accepted the fact that he would never love me. Just as I was about to stand up, Genevieve’s gaze fell on my neck. “That necklace you’re wearing looks very unique.” I instinctively raised my hand, my fingertips touching the cool pendant. This was what Lucas had given me on our first anniversary after the wedding. It wasn’t particularly valuable, but it was the only gift I’d received in three years. I’d always treasured it. “I really like it.” Genevieve turned to Lucas, her tone carrying nostalgic coquettishness. “It feels just like the one I lost before. Lucas, would you ask her to give it to me?” Everyone’s eyes focused on my neck, then looked toward Lucas. I looked at him too. I didn’t know what I was hoping for. Was I hoping he would remember what this necklace meant, or hoping that I mattered more to him? Lucas didn’t look into my eyes. He just pulled a bank card from his pocket with practiced ease and tossed it in front of me. “Is this enough?” Whispers suddenly erupted around the table, mixed with low snickers. Three years married to Lucas, and this wasn’t the first time he’d bought my dignity with money. As the Alpha of Blackwood Pack, he was truly wealthy. Wealthy enough that it seemed like everything in this world could be bought. But he could never buy my love again. Seeing my silence, a flash of surprise and impatience crossed Lucas’s eyes: “Three years of marriage, and you’re not going to raise your price now, are you?” With one sentence, he threw the memories I cherished on the ground and trampled them repeatedly. My hands clenched deeply into my palms. This necklace had been against my skin for three years, but now it felt like red-hot iron. Genevieve pretended to be understanding: “Lucas, don’t be like this. After all, it’s Eleanor’s property. I was just saying—I don’t really want it…” “If you like it, take it.” Lucas interrupted her, looking at me with a commanding tone. “Take it off.” I used the last of my strength to undo the clasp at the back of my neck. The necklace fell into my palm, still warm with body heat. I gently placed it on top of the cold bank card. I should have known all along—between us there was only money and our arrangement. Now that the girl he deeply loved had returned, our arrangement was over. As I turned to escape this suffocating place, Lucas called out to me: “Wait. Take this bank card with you.” In that moment, I heard the sound of my own heart breaking. “Okay.” Lucas, I forgot to tell you. I’m pregnant. And this child will have nothing to do with you.

When I got home, I hid the pregnancy test results I’d just received that morning in the deepest part of my closet. Originally, I’d wanted to give Lucas a surprise. But just like me, he also gave me a big surprise. How wonderful. At the end of our marriage, we finally had our first moment of being in sync. I’d just closed the closet when I heard the sound of the door opening downstairs. Genevieve walked in holding Lucas’s hand, following him step by step, looking more like the mistress of the house than I ever did. Seeing me, Lucas raised his eyebrows and said casually: “Genevieve doesn’t have anywhere to stay since she came back to the country, so she’ll be staying at our place for the next few days.” “Okay.” I nodded, not questioning why, with all the properties under his name, he couldn’t find a place to settle Genevieve. If I asked, I’d only look more like a joke. With that thought, I spoke softly: “Do you need me to move out? To save you the trouble.” Lucas frowned, as if dissatisfied with my reaction, a trace of displeasure coloring his eyes: “No need. Just give up the master bedroom.” “Okay.” Without hesitation, I turned cleanly and went back to my room to pack my things and move to the guest room. As we passed each other, Genevieve deliberately raised her voice: “Lucas, I’m a germaphobe. Remember to have Agnes clean all the garbage out of the bedroom later.” My steps halted. I instinctively looked at Lucas. I didn’t believe he couldn’t hear what Genevieve was implying. Of course Lucas understood, but he didn’t care: “It’s too late today. I’ll take you to a hotel for tonight, and you can move back tomorrow after it’s cleaned.” Genevieve laughed delightedly as she threw herself into the man’s arms, her eyes sweeping over me seemingly carelessly, with a victor’s smile: “Okay, but you have to stay with me. Otherwise I’ll be scared.” Lucas didn’t hesitate and took her downstairs and left. Leaving only me, holding a pile of hastily packed belongings, looking exactly like a clown. By the time I finished reviewing the divorce agreement, it was already eleven at night. Outside the window, heavy rain began to fall. Genevieve’s social media had just updated. A photo of her on the hotel’s king-size bed. She was lying in Lucas’s arms. Caption: [I’m scared to be alone, thank goodness you’re here with me.] I used to have that kind of “rescue” too. Three years ago. Back then, I still couldn’t complete my shift and became the plaything of a few spoiled brats. They surrounded me, pushed me into a champagne tower, imitated my clumsy movements, their laughter piercing. “Can’t even shift into your own wolf—is this even a werewolf?” “Must be some kind of defective product, right?” The humiliation was like cold needles, stabbing into every inch of my skin. I had nowhere to hide. I wished I could just disappear. Then Lucas appeared. The Alpha’s oppressive presence made those who had been so arrogant just moments before instantly fall silent, their faces pale as they backed away. He took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around my trembling shoulders. Then he carried me away from that place that made me angry and embarrassed. His beta brought me brand new clothes. “Thank you, Alpha.” I kept my head down, my voice still trembling. He looked at me, and then he made the proposal that would change my life: “I need a companion. You know, the pack always needs a Luna. But I won’t mark you. In exchange, I’ll give you money.” He spoke calmly and cruelly, like he was discussing a business deal. But to the desperate me at that time, the proposal itself was like a light splitting through the darkness. I agreed. From then on, I carefully handled everything for him from behind. On our first wedding anniversary, he got drunk and took me to bed. Then when he sobered up, he personally put that necklace on me. I thought he was finally starting to love me. But we slept together many times, and he still wasn’t willing to mark me. I should have known—he wasn’t willing to acknowledge my status. Holding back the urge to cry, I liked that post. Then I put my phone on the table and closed my eyes to sleep. Ten minutes later, the phone screen lit up with a pinned message: [Still awake?]

Hearing the notification, I sat up. Lucas’s messages kept coming. [I saw Genevieve’s post. Don’t overthink it—I only stayed with her for a little while.] Then came another transfer. Hinting that I should take the out he was giving me. But actually, ever since I fell in love with him, I’d stopped actively taking his money. Each time, I only reluctantly accepted after he reminded me several times. But this time, I accepted it calmly. [Thank you, Alpha.] After I sent the message, a call came immediately. The man’s voice sounded somewhat surprised: “Why did you accept it so quickly this time?” Before I could speak, Genevieve grabbed the phone, laughing as she asked me: “Eleanor, if you’re not asleep yet, could you bring some hot French onion soup to the hotel? I suddenly really want some.” “Lucas says your cooking is excellent. You don’t mind making a trip for me, do you?” I was about to refuse when Lucas transferred more money to my phone, with a note: Service fee. In the past, this was the kind of reward only the housekeeper Agnes would receive. Now it was my turn as Luna? I laughed sarcastically, hung up the phone, and accepted the money. We were about to divorce anyway. Might as well earn what I could. By the time I arrived at the hotel suite with the insulated food container, braving the heavy rain, it was already two in the morning. The door was ajar. Genevieve’s voice came from inside: “Lucas, I heard before that you once rescued Eleanor and punished the people who bullied her. Is that true? Did you fall in love with her?” I froze in place, instinctively holding my breath. Even though I’d already decided to leave, my heart still raced uncontrollably. I remembered that night again, the night I fell in love with Lucas. Lucas, would you remember it too? In the room, Lucas looked out at the heavy rain, somewhat lost in thought. Six months ago, it had been a rainy night just like this… Genevieve pushed him, somewhat dissatisfied: “Lucas, you still haven’t answered me.” The man came back to his senses, his clear voice carrying an indescribable complexity: “No… I just… pitied her.” “Just like pitying a stray dog on the side of the road. No different.” Even hearing him speak so heartlessly, my heart seemed unable to feel pain anymore. I walked in carrying the food container. Lucas looked at me in surprise, seemingly somewhat guilty. “You… when did you get here?” I didn’t answer. Genevieve had already spoken first. “You brought it? Let me see.” She reached out to take the container, but accidentally knocked it over. The scalding hot soup spilled mostly onto my hand and lower leg that I hadn’t pulled back in time. Sharp burning pain came from my skin. I groaned and stepped back two paces. Lucas stood up abruptly, about to step forward to check, but Genevieve cried out softly and hid behind Lucas. “Oh my god, I really didn’t mean to! Eleanor, are you okay?” Lucas’s steps stopped. Soon, he picked up his phone and operated it a few times. My phone vibrated immediately, the screen lighting up with another substantial transfer. The note clearly read: Medical expenses and service fee. He looked at my scalded hand, his tone flat: “Handle it yourself. Let me know if it’s not enough. Genevieve… didn’t mean to.” In his heart, it seemed everything could be solved with money. Genevieve pulled several tissues from her purse and tossed them to me like charity. I didn’t take them. In the past, because I loved Lucas, I’d already given up too much dignity. But now that I’d decided to leave, things were different. “Thanks.” I said quietly, preparing to leave. But Lucas stepped forward and grabbed my wrist, his expression displeased: “Eleanor, aren’t you angry at all?” My pupils trembled slightly. I really wanted to ask him: What should I be angry about? Or rather, did I have the right to be angry? I was just a pitiful little dog he’d picked up from the roadside when he was in a good mood. When his mood was good, he’d pity me and comfort me a little. When his mood was bad, he’d just throw money at me to make me go away. “It’s just a minor burn, it’s fine. I’ll go back and treat it.” I tried to pull my hand back. But my tact didn’t earn me a better expression. Lucas blocked the doorway, his eyes complex: “You weren’t like this before.” “Before, you wouldn’t have just stood there and let people bully you.” Two years ago, Lucas’s cousin mocked me for not being fit to be Luna because I didn’t have my own wolf. After Lucas found out, he directly kicked him out of the Pack and never allowed him to appear in front of me again. He explained to me that he didn’t care about those things. A year ago, at a partner pack’s banquet, I was framed and fell into a pool. Lucas immediately pressed the person who pushed me into the swimming pool and made them stay there all night. Except for not loving me, he’d really treated me well. Lucas seemed to remember the past too, his eyes somewhat dark. “I…” But I had already finished remembering. I nodded politely to both of them and moved to leave from the doorway. As I was about to exit, Lucas’s voice came from behind: “Eleanor, I know you went to the hospital.”

The calm words were like a thunderclap, shocking me in place. “You… know?” Lucas hummed in acknowledgment, hesitating: “Someone saw you go to the hospital that day.” “Are you… alright?” I paused, not understanding his meaning. Lucas continued: “If you need it, I can help you contact the best doctors. After all, you…” He didn’t finish. But I knew what he meant. Ordinary werewolves healed quickly after injuries and rarely got sick. But I was different. I was a werewolf without a wolf. So he just thought I was sick. Not that he knew… I was pregnant. My eyelashes trembled. Faced with this sudden concern from him, my heart remained extraordinarily calm. Was it pity again? This time, my role should be the family pet dog, right? When the pet gets sick, of course the owner has to care. I laughed self-deprecatingly, looked at Genevieve whose smile was barely hanging on, and explained: “I just happened to be passing by, so I went in for a checkup.” After saying that, I left immediately, afraid the man would continue questioning. Early the next morning, I packed my luggage and was about to leave when I ran into Agnes coming to clean. Seeing me leave, there was no shock on her face, as if she’d expected it all along. It seemed everyone assumed that Lucas didn’t like me, that I was just a temporary substitute for Genevieve. As I reached the courtyard, a series of sounds suddenly came from the second-floor balcony. Someone was continuously throwing things down. I looked back and saw it was the master bedroom I’d lived in for three years. Bedsheets, cups, pillows… Everything I hadn’t been able to take with me was being thrown mercilessly from the balcony. Seeing me off. I didn’t care. After all, I hadn’t planned to take those things anyway. I took a deep breath and calmly left the estate I’d lived in for three years. … When Lucas returned, Agnes was throwing down our wedding photos. In the photo, I stood carefully beside Lucas, my face wearing an innocent smile. Completely different from who I was now. The frame fell to the ground, glass shattering. Lucas’s steps stopped at that pile of debris. He looked at that huge photograph and suddenly remembered that in the first year of our marriage, I’d seemed to smile a lot. Completely different from the timid person he’d imagined. I’d even firmly enacted a series of laws within the pack to protect the lives of those lower-ranking werewolves. When did things start to change? Lucas opened his mouth and said to his Beta Samuel: “Clean up this photo and put it… in the storage room.” Then he tried to call me, only to find he couldn’t get through at all. The explanation he’d prepared remained unsaid. It made him irritable and restless. Just as he was about to try again, Agnes came down from upstairs and said to Genevieve: “Miss Genevieve, everything has been cleaned according to your requirements.” “Especially the master bedroom. I threw out everything of that person’s that I could, and disinfected everything inside and out.” “But there was a document folder in the closet that I didn’t dare open.” As she spoke, she pulled out a folder from her pocket. Lucas put down his phone and took the document folder from Agnes’s hand and opened it. A folded pregnancy test report fell out.

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After marrying Alpha Damien of the Myrren pack, I had always been happy. Until the fourth month of my pregnancy, when Damien suddenly asked me for a divorce. I hurried to find him, only to overhear him telling his friend that he had been reborn—that he came back in this life to reunite with his first love, Tara. His friend asked in shock, “Are you insane? Victoria is four months pregnant. How can you justify this to her?” Damien laughed carelessly. “She loves me so much. She’ll forgive me, understand me, no matter what I do.” “Besides, I’m just divorcing her, not breaking the mate bond. It won’t really hurt her. After the divorce, she can go back to her parents’ house. But Tara has no parents. After divorcing that scumbag, she’s raising her child all alone. How hard must that be?” I stood silently outside the door, almost numb as I dialed my father’s number. Later, Damien deliberately scheduled our divorce and his wedding to Tara for the same day. But on that day, the cold, composed man stared desperately at my flat stomach, nearly breaking down as he demanded: “Where is my child? You promised! You said you wanted to have a child with me!”

“Victoria, are you sure you want the divorce? After everything you went through for this child…” Hearing my mother’s choked voice, guilt overwhelmed me. Ever since she learned I was pregnant, my mother had been the happiest person in the world. She knew what I had sacrificed for this child. I drank countless bitter witch potions for a full year. I endured nine injections. It wasn’t until the tenth attempt that I finally conceived. The moment the test results came back positive, my mother nearly wept with joy. She thought that with a child, Damien would finally love me. But today I realized how terribly wrong both my mother and I had been. The phone rang urgently. I answered numbly, and Damien’s cold, harsh voice immediately came through. “Victoria, how much longer are you going to drag this out?” “Even if you’re pregnant and I can’t break the mate bond with you, once the child is born, I can break it immediately.” “Victoria, raising a child costs money. Since we got married, you’ve been living in my house, eating my food, drinking what I provide. All you do every day is some housework and nothing else.” “No one wants a woman who just gave birth and is stuck with a burden. You have no income. When that time comes, you won’t be able to keep either the child or me.” His tone dripped with mockery. Hearing him belittle everything I’d contributed to our home over the past two years, calling my child a “burden”—it felt like a blade slicing through my heart all over again. “Damien.” I spoke his name softly. He immediately fell silent. “I agree to the divorce.” He paused, then said joyfully, “Really? Good! Then we’ll go through with it in five days.” After a moment, his voice softened, as if trying to comfort me. “Victoria, don’t worry. I just want to take care of Tara and her child. I won’t cross any lines.” “You focus on your pregnancy and give birth to our child. After that, I’ll come see you and the baby once a month.” “I’ve already bought so many clothes for the baby. I’ve even picked out a name…” His voice was cheerful, but my thoughts drifted. In that moment, I knew I had truly let him go.

That night, I fell into a fitful sleep. I found myself standing in a frozen wasteland. The blizzard was terrifying. The cold cut to the bone. My body stiffened with frost. Just as I felt I might collapse, a warm current flowed from my chest. A tender voice called out, “Mommy…” My body trembled. Instinctively, I pulled the warmth closer. The glowing presence was so small—I could cradle it entirely in my hands. Yet it was so warm. Warm enough to bring me to tears. “I’m sorry… I can’t give you a complete family anymore…” I whispered an apology. Then a warm little finger gently wiped away the tears on my face. The child’s voice was soft, filled with infinite affection and reluctance. I tried to hold onto that tiny finger, but the child’s form grew fainter and fainter. No!! In that moment, my heart felt as though it was being torn apart. I desperately tried to hold on. “Baby!!” I jolted awake from the nightmare, feeling a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Before I could fully process it, a gentle male voice spoke. “Having a nightmare?” Damien sat on the edge of my bed, his face full of concern. “What are you doing here?” Damien smiled helplessly. “This is our home. Why wouldn’t I be here? Victoria, you…” Before he could finish, a shrill child’s voice interrupted. The next second, the door burst open. A seven-year-old boy charged in like a cannonball. “Daddy!!” It was Leo, Tara’s seven-year-old son. Leo once said he was bullied for not having a father, so Damien let him call him “Dad” without hesitation, raising him like his own son. He wrapped his arms around Damien from behind. Damien asked, “Didn’t you promise to wait for me outside?” Leo glared at me viciously. “I was afraid that bad woman would bully you!” I didn’t want to watch them perform in front of me. I got up to leave. But the moment I took a step, Leo stuck out his foot and tripped me. I had barely slept the night before and was dizzy. I had no time to dodge. I fell hard to the ground. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen. My back arched instinctively, cold sweat breaking out all over. “Victoria!” Damien shoved Leo aside and rushed to help me, his face full of alarm. “What’s wrong?” The pain was so intense I couldn’t speak. My vision darkened. The cramping in my abdomen was unbearable. I tried to call for help, but a shrill female voice drowned me out. “Leo! Damien…” Tara rushed over. Seeing Leo sitting on the bed looking dazed, she immediately scooped him up. “Leo, what happened? Did you cause trouble again?” Leo burst into tears. “I didn’t! I didn’t even touch her, and she screamed so loud!” Damien’s hand froze where he was supporting me. Tara’s eyes immediately reddened. “Damien, maybe we should forget about what we discussed before.” “Leo and I are just a widow and her child. We can’t compete with…” Her voice choked with emotion, her expression full of grievance. Though she didn’t finish, Damien understood her meaning perfectly. He immediately said, “What are you talking about? I promised I’d take care of you both. I won’t go back on my word.” His icy gaze fell on me. “Victoria, would you go so far as to frame a child just to keep me?” He gripped my hand tightly, so hard I heard my bones creak. But what hurt more was my abdomen. That little life connected to me by blood was slowly slipping away. I thought of yesterday’s dream. Instinctively, I grabbed Damien’s collar, opening my mouth weakly. “Help… help me. My stomach hurts so much…” But Damien said coldly, “Stop pretending. In my past life, you gave birth to our son just fine. Nothing will go wrong this time either.” At that moment, I was in too much pain to speak. Perhaps my expression was too agonized. Damien hesitated, half-convinced, and started to help me up. But Tara grabbed his arm. “Damien, let me check on her. I’ve been through this once. I have experience.” Tara handed Leo to Damien. He seemed about to say something, but the child’s sobbing cut him off. He carefully held the boy, gently patting his back as he walked to the window to soothe him. Tara approached me and slowly pulled back the blanket, then showed a surprised expression. Crimson blood slowly flowed from between my legs, soaking through my nightgown. She smiled. “Oh my, you’re perfectly fine. Victoria, aren’t you being a bit too dramatic?”

Damien’s face turned cold at her words. “Victoria, you really are faking it!” Tara gave a charming smile. “Victoria’s just delicate, Damien. You should comfort her more.” “Victoria is so afraid of pain. Giving birth will be even harder for her.” Damien scoffed. “My son will be well-behaved. If she’s afraid of pain, that’s her problem. It has nothing to do with my son.” As he said this, his tone was full of pride. By now, my consciousness was half-faded. In the moment before I lost awareness, I only saw Tara pulling him toward the door. Endless despair surged through me. When I woke again, the smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils. Pain throbbed below. I moaned involuntarily, and then my hand was gripped tightly. “Victoria!!” It was my mother and father. My mother’s usually immaculate hair was disheveled, her eyes swollen from crying. Seeing me awake, her voice choked. “Victoria, it’s okay. Everything will be okay…” It slowly dawned on me—I was lying on a hospital bed being rushed toward the operating room. “Doctor, the patient is hemorrhaging!!” The baby might not survive. The situation was critical. My father called Damien multiple times before he finally picked up. The male voice on the other end sounded surprised. “Is Victoria making a fuss about going to the hospital again? Ever since she got pregnant, she’s been paranoid that something’s wrong with the baby.” “It’s just a pregnancy. Back in the day, my friend cooked and cleaned for herself even when she was months along.” “Victoria is just too delicate.” After those accusatory remarks, my father finally lost his temper. I heard him speak through gritted teeth. “Damien, do you even know what’s happened to Victoria?!” My father was the Alpha of Ashclaw pack. He knew Damien was a notorious playboy and had opposed our relationship. But unfortunately, Damien was my mate. At the time, I was completely drunk on love, lost in Damien’s deep green eyes. When he proposed to me, Damien swore to my father that he would treat me well and make me happy forever. But now, it was clear those were all empty promises. My father’s voice shook with rage. Damien hesitated, worried that something might actually be wrong with me. But just then, Tara’s startled cry came through the phone. “Ah! Damien, Leo has a fever…” Damien stopped explaining to my father and hung up anxiously. “Beep beep beep—” The busy tone echoed through the corridor. After a long silence, my father said through clenched teeth, “Divorce! Once you’re out of surgery and safe, you’re breaking the mate bond with that scumbag!” Cold anesthetic slowly entered my veins. My eyelids grew heavier, yet my body felt lighter. When I woke again, my mother told me the baby was gone. For a moment, I felt lost. My hand lightly touched my lower abdomen. An hour ago, a little life connected to me by blood had been there. Now there was nothing. “Victoria.” My mother looked at me with concern. I gave her a weak smile. “Mom, I’m fine.” Later, I learned I had been unconscious for two days and one night. I checked my phone. My call log was empty. Only my chat with Damien had a few cold messages. All sent this morning. [Remember to divorce in three days.] [Not replying again? Do you think avoiding this will help? Victoria, I’m telling you—I WILL divorce you!] [Sometimes I really wish Tara and Leo were my family. Leo is so well-raised. I can’t imagine what kind of person our son would turn into if he grew up with you!] I stared at those final messages and slowly typed: [Okay.] After sending the message, I deleted all his contact information without hesitation. The hospital’s fluorescent lights were harsh. Holding the miscarriage report, I walked alone down the corridor to retrieve my child and arrange for burial. The maternity ward was filled with couples. The expectant mothers’ faces glowed with joy. I clutched the small box, feeling as though my heart had been sealed inside with my dead child. “Damien, thank you so much for this.” A sweet, gentle female voice sounded. I looked up and met their eyes. Damien held Leo’s hand. Tara clung to his arm. Standing together, they looked like a real family of three. Damien glanced at me, then his expression changed. His gaze locked onto my flat stomach.

He strode toward me, his face full of displeasure. “What are you doing here?” Tara smiled. “Did you come looking for Damien? Geez, Victoria, you’re keeping too close an eye on him. I just wasn’t feeling well, so I asked him to come with me to the hospital.” Damien said impatiently, “Is it really necessary to monitor me this closely? You’re pregnant, yet you’re running around the hospital for no reason. Don’t you know that’s bad for the baby?” “This child is so unlucky to be in your belly!” “Haven’t I told you? Our child is perfectly healthy and capable. He’s going to be the next Alpha of Myrren pack!” Yes. In his version of the past life, we had a smart, healthy child. But why did things turn out this way? I instinctively clutched the small box tighter. I had already contacted a priest and asked him to pray for forty-nine days. I hoped my child could find peace in heaven. “Daddy.” A childish voice interrupted my thoughts. Leo stared at the box in my arms and suddenly reached out to grab it. “I want that box!” “Don’t touch it!” I slapped his hand away hard, holding the box protectively. The sharp sound echoed through the corridor. Leo froze for a moment, then burst into loud wails. Damien’s face showed a flash of shock, but he immediately scowled. “What are you doing?!” “He’s just a child! Why are you fighting with him? You hit him!” I held the box tightly and glared at Damien. “Damien, I hate you. I hate you so much!” I spoke each word deliberately. My mouth tasted of blood. He seemed stunned that I—who had always been obedient—would say such a thing. He frowned. “Victoria, you’re being completely unreasonable.” With that, he pulled something from his pocket. “I’ll trade you this for that broken box. There, happy?” It was a jade watch. I had once mentioned wanting to buy one for our child. He had only told me to focus on my pregnancy and not think about trivial things. “You always wanted to give this to the baby, right? Here, take it…” Before he could finish, Leo cried out, “Daddy, that’s mine! You ordered it for me!” Damien’s face flashed with embarrassment. He said calmly, “I’ll get you something better later.” “No!! You can’t give away my things!” Leo suddenly rushed forward and shoved me hard. I had barely slept the night before and was dizzy. I had no time to react. I fell heavily to the ground. The box flew from my hands. “Give it back!” My pupils shrank in despair as Leo grabbed the box, ran to the end of the corridor, and hurled it down the garbage disposal chute. In that moment, I felt like I’d gone mad. I lunged toward it, but Damien held me back tightly. “Enough! It’s just a box! Are you going to hurt Leo again? That broken box belongs in the trash! Now apologize to Leo and Tara!” The chaos quickly attracted medical staff. My attending physician rushed over. Seeing this, Damien immediately acted as though he’d found new ammunition. “Your doctor is here. Are you going to keep embarrassing yourself?” “Victoria, I’m telling you—I will NEVER accompany you to prenatal checkups again!” “Not only that, but when you give birth, the child will be mine. You’ll never see him again!” The doctor froze, then said instinctively, “Prenatal checkups? But Victoria already had a miscarriage…”

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When I found out my husband Jones’s terminal cancer diagnosis was a mistake, I breathed a sigh of relief. But when I got home to tell him the good news, he handed me divorce papers instead. “I’ve settled for you my whole life. Now that I only have three months left, I want to spend them with the person I truly love. Please grant me this final wish.” I stared at the divorce agreement, stunned. What I didn’t expect was what Jones said next: “Can’t you even grant me this one last wish? I’m dying anyway—I’ll leave with nothing. All the assets go to you!” All the assets go to me? Then of course I’ll grant his wish! “Let’s divorce. Please grant me this final wish.” Jones handed me the divorce papers, his eyes calm, his tone solemn. I stood frozen, finally managing to ask: “The person you truly love? What do you mean?” Jones wore a white linen shirt and beige casual pants today. He didn’t look over thirty at all—still the refined, scholarly university professor. He lowered his head. “My life has entered its final countdown. There’s no need to hide it from you anymore.” “Three years into our marriage, I met a girl. She was my student.” “We often discussed literature together. We had so much common ground, our thoughts aligned. It was completely different from discussing groceries and bills with you. We had spiritual resonance.” “I fell for her.” “But I was already married. Out of responsibility to my family, and because she felt guilty toward you, we eventually separated.” Jones’s voice was calm yet tinged with longing. When he talked about that girl, the corners of his mouth even curved into a faint smile he probably didn’t notice himself. “These years we’ve maintained a friendship, nothing crossing boundaries. When we occasionally met, we only discussed poetry and philosophy, life and meaning.” He looked up, staring intently at me. “Do you know? Only when I’m with her do I feel truly alive, like a complete person. Not bound by mundane trivialities, not burdened by thoughts of producing offspring.” “She’s my muse, my soulmate. We’re an accident and a regret constrained by worldly rules.” I listened quietly to his heartfelt confession, my mouth twitching with an absurd smile. “What a beautifully reasoned speech.” Jones froze, his ears instantly flushing red. As if deeply offended, he snapped angrily: “Vulgar! Not half as refined as her! Don’t you know your mediocrity and ignorance are what I can’t stand most? Marrying you was like casting pearls before swine!” I was speechless for a moment. My initial anger gradually subsided. “So what, should I apologize to you?” I stepped closer. “Professor Jones, does wrapping infidelity in artistic pretense turn it into an enviable love story?” Jones seemed to belatedly feel some embarrassment, but his gaze remained determined. “I’m definitely getting this divorce. At the end of my life, I don’t want to leave with regrets.” He pushed the divorce agreement toward me. I picked it up and flipped through it, my eyes skimming past “irreconcilable differences” in the reason column and landing on “Jones leaves with nothing” in the asset division section. Jones lifted his chin with apparent magnanimity. “These material possessions mean nothing to a dying man anyway. After all, I’ve wronged you. Consider it compensation.” I let out a derisive laugh, thinking of the misdiagnosis notice in my pocket. The next second, I picked up a pen and quickly signed my name. Fine. Let him go pursue his soulmate and spiritual world. I’ll suffer alone with all these vulgar properties, savings, and investment funds!

Jones probably didn’t expect me to agree so readily. He stood there dazed, holding the divorce papers I’d signed. Taking advantage of his distraction, I’d already operated efficiently in the bedroom, packing all his clothes from the closet into two large suitcases. He seemed unable to process it. “Lester, are you really this eager to throw me out?” I gave him a baffled look and said irritably, “Just saving you from wasting time pursuing your soulmate.” “All your clothes are here. Tomorrow I’ll have movers send the books from your study. Give me an address—I’ll send them cash on delivery. Don’t forget to sign for them.” Jones seemed to have an epiphany. “I understand now. Ever since you learned I had terminal cancer, you’ve been desperate to dump me, haven’t you?” With a trace of condescending pity and disdain, he said as if deeply wronged: “This is why I’ve felt so suffocated being with you all these years. Our union was a mistake. You’re vulgar, mercenary, only care about profit. All you ever talk about with me is money and trivialities. Being with you is a complete waste of life!” As he spoke, his expression became dreamy again. “But life shouldn’t be like this. Douglas says life should be like appreciating a beautiful snowfall, should be romance and beauty, spring breezes and clear skies…” My mouth twitched. I really couldn’t help interrupting him. “Are you done? This vulgar person can’t stand listening to you adulterers and your flowery words. Take your things and get out. Now.” Jones’s gold-rimmed glasses reflected a cold light. The look he gave me was full of pity and contempt, as if I—the woman who’d shared his bed for years—was some filthy thing invading his sacred spiritual realm. His lips moved, about to retort, when a phone ring interrupted him. His mocking gaze instantly softened. After he answered, I vaguely heard a woman’s voice. Probably his “Douglas.” The woman said something on the phone—probably acting cute—and listening to her, Jones’s face showed an indulgent tenderness I’d never seen before. Even his voice became gentle. He’d never spoken to me in that tone. I thought all married couples were like this—calm, stable, peaceful. Only now did I realize my marriage had been broken for a long time. Jones left. I looked at the empty room. Sunlight streamed in. The flowers on the balcony swayed gently in the breeze. Birds occasionally flew past the window. Everything was as usual. Nothing changed because of one person’s departure. I thought I’d cry hysterically, have a breakdown. But I didn’t. Enlightenment came so quickly. In just a few hours, my emotions went from wild joy to shock, from anger to calm, and now to a strange lightness. A man like that wasn’t worth keeping. Now not only was I divorced, he’d voluntarily left with nothing. What was the difference between this and the saying “promotion, fortune, and husband’s death”? Oh, I almost forgot. I touched the pocket containing Jones’s misdiagnosis notice—my husband wouldn’t die, he’d just smoothly roll out of my life in another way.

After calming down, my biggest worry was that Jones might suddenly have regrets. Life without him was incredibly liberating. I grew up in a very traditional family. Conservative parents gave me a conservative education. The first half of my life had been completely by-the-book. They taught me that at each age, you should do certain things. So after college, once my job was stable, I started a family with Jones, whom relatives had introduced. Back then, my parents were very satisfied with him. He was a literature professor at a local university—handsome, respectable job, decent income. My parents strongly promoted the marriage, and I thought Jones might be a good choice. I married him in a daze. Jones and I never even discussed “love.” It seemed we’d just reached that life stage and mutually chose each other for marriage. I didn’t even think this was a problem. After all, my parents were the same—introduced by others, formed a family, had me, lived their whole lives this way. I thought this was ordinary people’s love. Just when I thought my life would continue peacefully this way, Jones was diagnosed with terminal cancer. In that moment I felt like the sky was falling. I thought it was reluctance born from loving my husband. But after the divorce, I realized it was just panic and helplessness facing a major life change. Learning Jones’s terminal cancer was a misdiagnosis, I was overjoyed. That sense of life returning to normal washed over me completely. But now, my life had completely deviated from what I’d considered the “normal track,” yet instead of panic, I felt liberated. I tallied up the assets Jones and I had accumulated over the years—enough for me to live comfortably. During the divorce cooling-off period, I learned to enjoy life. I took vacation days and traveled to several places I’d always longed to visit. Without being bound by the identity of “wife,” I felt relaxed and free. Until during my travels, I happened to scroll past Jones’s short video. And his “Douglas.” The woman in the video looked under thirty, attractive, with long curly hair pulled back with a hair tie falling beside her face, shallow dimples when she smiled. Her name was Douglas. Whether the text, visuals, or filming style of Douglas’s videos, everything was full of literary and aesthetic beauty. She didn’t post frequently—starting with her alone sharing literary works, then a man appeared in frame, discussing their different literary insights together. Jones in the videos looked the same as before, wearing a soft knit sweater, his gold-rimmed glasses making him look refined and ascetic. Discussing love, Jones showed a thoughtful expression: “Love is something completely unreasonable. When it happens, no one can resist it. Even facing worldly constraints and shackles, it can’t stop its inevitability.” As he spoke, he looked tenderly at Douglas, his eyes full of unmistakable affection. Douglas lowered her head, loose hair falling by her temples, a blush coloring her cheeks. I opened the comments section. Everyone was praising their romantic love: “Oh my god, they’re so good-looking, so easy on the eyes!” “When a literature professor falls in love, it’s naturally more romantic.” I looked at the comments, but didn’t feel the slightest pain. Witnessing this moment of him being affectionate toward someone else, I truly confirmed—I didn’t love him either. I smiled with relief and closed my phone. After the cooling-off period ended, Jones and I went to city hall to get our divorce certificate. Douglas followed beside him, looking at me with wariness, as if afraid I’d lose emotional control. But throughout the entire process I remained calm, even cheerfully so. Jones was still the same: “Our union was wrong from the start. Now everything’s back on track. I wish you find your own happiness in the future.” I smiled and waved the divorce certificate. “Thanks, I will. But definitely not through infidelity during marriage.” With that, I left without looking back. After getting home, I confirmed all asset transfer procedures were complete, then mailed Jones’s cancer misdiagnosis notice to his current address.

I thought after a peaceful divorce, we’d stay out of each other’s way. I didn’t expect Jones and Douglas’s moral standards to be even lower than I’d imagined. A colleague sent me a link. I clicked on it—it was Douglas’s short video account. She was livestreaming. In the livestream, Jones and Douglas wore matching couple outfits. One handsome and refined, one gentle and fresh—they actually looked quite compatible. But what they said was far from as decent as they looked. Jones spoke eloquently to the camera. “Yes, I am divorced. When I was young, I thought compatibility was love and rushed into marriage. But married life was extremely boring. My ex-wife and I repeated a monotonous routine. Every day was groceries and bills, discussing house loans, parents’ retirement, when to try for a baby, workplace trivialities.” “I wanted to discuss literature with her, talk about Camus, Shakespeare, Tagore, but she always listened blankly, unable to engage in meaningful conversation with me.” “We lived a mediocre, dull life, like a dim, lusterless grain of sand. Until I met Douglas—my life was reborn.” He looked tenderly at Douglas. Douglas gave a perfectly timed shy smile. The comments scrolled quickly. Many people were cheering for this divine romance. “Being with Douglas, we can discuss poetry, philosophy, life’s meaning. Our thoughts align, our tastes and interests match. With her, I feel like I’m living life, not just existing.” “After divorcing my ex-wife, I finally felt relieved. No more facing boring daily trivialities, no more facing a narrow-minded, vulgar wife, no more endless pressure from prolonged attempts to conceive…” Reading this, I froze. Jones and I had indeed tried to conceive for a long time without success. We went to the hospital once and discovered his sperm viability was too low, making natural conception very difficult. Following both parents’ suggestions, we decided to do IVF. But it was his fertility problem. I was the one enduring the side effects of ovulation injections. I was the one who would bear the pain and fear of childbirth, and the permanent physical damage. What right did Jones—a man who was just along for the ride—have to sit here like a victim talking as if he’d suffered? During these years of marriage, I not only took care of him and gave him a warm home, but also helped care for his aging parents. In his eyes, it was nothing but “narrow-minded and vulgar.” Anger surged up. I moved my finger and typed in the comment box: “A man who cheated during marriage—how dare you act like a victim? Does knowing some literature and art cover up the fact that you’re both a cheating scumbag and homewrecker?” Among all the “perfect match,” “talented scholar and beautiful lady,” “made for each other” comments, my question stood out particularly. The comments seemed to pause for a moment, then scrolled even faster. Through the screen, I smiled and typed another line: “Jones, did you receive the follow-up diagnosis I mailed you?”

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Right after we finished getting our marriage certificate, Dylan suddenly spoke up: “I cheated on you.” He pointed at the passenger seat, his smile cruel: “Yesterday she sat right here and kissed me. She wore something really sexy, and I couldn’t resist, so we slept together.” I froze, the pain so intense I couldn’t make a sound. Dylan seemed to savor the memory: “I can understand your ex-husband Ethan now. Fiona really has more feminine charm than you.” Yes, this was the second time I’d been betrayed. My ex-husband Ethan and my current husband Dylan had both cheated on me with my best friend Fiona. Five years ago, I walked in on Ethan and Fiona having sex in my own bed. When I was devastated and hopeless, Dylan saved me. But now, he too had betrayed me for Fiona. After what felt like an eternity, I finally found my voice again. Trembling, I asked: “Why?” Why cheat and still marry me? Why tell me the truth so cruelly at the happiest moment of my life? Dylan paused for a moment. Then suddenly burst into loud laughter: “You win.” I looked at him in confusion. The next second, a familiar voice came through the car speakers: “Then tonight you have to use my favorite strawberry flavor~” My eyes widened in shock. I felt like all the blood in my body had frozen. “I made a bet with Fiona about how you’d react when you found out I cheated. I said you’d slap me. She said you’d ask me why.” “If I won, she’d wear stockings. If she won…” Dylan raised his eyebrows: “You already heard.” As his words fell, Fiona’s voice came through the speakers: “Lynn, it’s been five years. You’re still as pathetic as I expected. But your taste in men is consistently good—I really like this one too.” Her mocking laughter made my limbs go numb. In a daze, I seemed to return to five years ago. I came home early from a business trip, wanting to celebrate my ex-husband Ethan’s birthday. Walking in, I found Ethan and Fiona having sex in my bed. When he saw me, Ethan was terrified and at a loss. But Fiona casually lit a cigarette: “Lynn, sorry about this. I’ve been too lonely lately, so I borrowed your husband.” Back then, I was just like this. Crying, asking Fiona and Ethan: “Why?” But when they opened their mouths to answer, my ears felt stuffed with cotton—I couldn’t hear a single word. Not until Fiona and Ethan’s faces went pale as they shouted at me. My lower abdomen hurt so badly I couldn’t straighten up. Only then did I snap back to reality. Looking down, I saw blood pooling beneath me. That day, I lost the three most important people in my life all at once. A best friend of ten years, a husband of one year, and my three-month-old baby. “Alright, I know you like me. See you tonight. I’ll take Lynn home first.” Dylan’s voice pulled me back from those painful memories. He hung up the call. The car was instantly filled with just our breathing. After a moment, Dylan spoke first: “You must be hungry. Let’s go get your favorite cake first, then I’ll take you home.” His tone was gentle. As if nothing had just happened. Which only made my bloodshot eyes and trembling body seem more pathetic by comparison. “Dylan, why are you doing this?” “You promised you’d cherish me for the rest of your life.” My voice was hoarse, tears falling against my will. But this time, Dylan didn’t wipe away my tears like he used to. He leaned back in his seat with a half-smile: “Lynn, if you’d chosen me the first time, I probably would have cherished you for life. But now, you’re just second-hand goods. Why should I stay faithful to you?” With that, he handed me a tissue like he was giving charity. I recoiled sharply, looking at him like he was a monster. We were all college classmates. Years ago, he and Ethan had both confessed their feelings to me at the same time. Back then, I chose Ethan. Dylan gave his polite blessing, and after marriage I kept my distance from him. Until Ethan cheated. Unable to handle the blow, I tried to commit suicide by cutting my wrists. Dylan appeared in my world like a god descending from heaven. He healed me, pulled me back from hell to the human world. Thinking of all the good things he’d done for me, I asked desperately: “If you cared so much, why did you still pursue me and get together with me?” As our eyes met, Dylan sighed: “I thought I didn’t care. But when we were planning the wedding.” He looked at me with a bitter smile: “You were too experienced. When we took wedding photos, you knew how to negotiate with the photographer. When buying rings, you knew to get a fake one for the ceremony to prevent it from being stolen. Even today getting the certificate, you knew what to wear without even checking…” Dylan’s expression grew darker as he spoke. “Everything you did screamed at me that Dylan was marrying second-hand goods. Lynn, I’m not okay with that.” Tears blurred my vision. Couldn’t see clearly, but could hear even more clearly. “But I love you.” “So you were married to Ethan for one year, and I’ll indulge myself for one year before settling down. Fair, isn’t it?” I felt warmth on my face. I blinked hard, tears splashing onto Dylan’s hand. He jerked back as if burned. “That’s not fair!” “If it bothered you, you could have told me, instead of saving me only to betray me!” “Dylan, I want a divorce!” I roared, feeling my soul tear apart with pain. He just watched me coldly. Only after I finished venting did he speak with mock mercy: “We’re already married. Fair or not isn’t up to you.” “Divorce? Don’t even think about it. Either accept it or endure it.” With that. Dylan suddenly opened my car door and gave me a light push: “You’re really annoying me right now. Go reflect on yourself.”

It had just rained heavily outside. I happened to fall into a puddle of mud. The ground was slippery—the more I struggled to get up, the less I could stand. Dylan just sat quietly in the car, expressionless: “Lynn, see that?” Seeing me look at him, he sneered: “Without my help, you can’t even stand up. If you really divorce me, where will you go?” Without waiting for my answer. The car door slammed shut, and the vehicle shot past me like an arrow, splashing mud all over my face. As my vision went dark, memories with Dylan flashed through my mind like a slideshow. Right after divorcing Ethan, unable to accept the betrayal, I developed severe depression. I would self-harm uncontrollably. Every time I cut myself once, Dylan would discover it and cut himself twice. When I couldn’t sleep all night, Dylan had the roof of the villa removed. Replaced it with a skylight and held me while counting stars all night. When I couldn’t eat, he’d go on hunger strikes with me. After a year of this, I finally improved and began to trust him. The day he confessed, he knelt on one knee and promised he would never betray me in this lifetime. I believed him. Now, just one year later. Dylan’s promise had already expired. Coming back to my senses, I wiped the mud from my eyes and pushed myself up from the ground. My clumsy movements made passersby laugh. Ashamed and afraid, I frantically waved for a taxi. Finally, one car didn’t mind how dirty I was and agreed to take me—on the condition that I pay upfront, plus an extra two hundred dollars. I quickly agreed. But when I tried to pay, I was told my card had just been frozen. I couldn’t use a single cent. The moment I was kicked out of the car, heavy rain poured down again. It hit my body, painful and numbing. I don’t know how long I walked before I finally made it home with Dylan. Pushing open the door, my mind went blank. High heels and dress shoes lay intertwined on the floor, lace lingerie mixed with a black suit. By the window, Dylan held Fiona in a passionate kiss. In a trance, the scene from five years ago overlapped with the present. I let out an incoherent howl, my hands and feet shaking uncontrollably. The sound interrupted the intimate couple. Dylan frowned irritably: “Why are you making such a fuss? It’s not like you haven’t experienced this before.” Fiona laughed mockingly: “Long time no see, Lynn. I was wrong on the phone—Dylan is so much better than your ex-husband.” Her words pleased Dylan. “You have good taste.” Dylan smiled and stood up, walking toward me. But the closer he got, the more I trembled. Finally, as he tried to reach out his hand, I bent over sharply and couldn’t stop vomiting. Vaguely, Dylan’s figure stiffened for a moment. After a pause, I heard an eerie voice by my ear: “Lynn, do you find me disgusting?”

I had no energy to answer. I just felt exhausted to the extreme. But Dylan was hurt by my reaction. He grabbed me by the collar with both hands, laughing in rage: “Lynn, you forced me to do this.” “I was planning to let it go after tonight, but now I’m going to make you suffer all the pain I’ve suffered.” He suddenly let go of me and beckoned to Fiona. “You’ll be the bride at my wedding with Lynn.” Fiona threw herself into his arms joyfully. “Really? Then I want Lynn to be my bridesmaid. Five years ago, I was her bridesmaid once. Now she needs to be mine once to make it fair.” “Sure, let her be your bridesmaid and bring us the rings.” Dylan stared at me, enunciating each word like a knife slicing through my heart. I looked up in disbelief. I wanted to refuse, but my throat hurt so much I couldn’t make a sound. I could only shake my head desperately. Seeing this, Dylan grinned maliciously: “It hurts, doesn’t it? You’re suffering, right?” “Good, that’s right. Five years ago when you married someone else, I suffered just like this.” I looked at Dylan’s face, twisted with hatred. I paused, as if suddenly understanding. He didn’t want fairness. He just wanted me to suffer the same pain he once did. The more I hurt, the more satisfied he was. So I touched my numb, aching heart and forced a smile: “No.” “Dylan, I’m not in pain. I’m just disgusted.” That one sentence completely ignited Dylan’s rage. He let go of Fiona and started dragging me upstairs. I struggled desperately but couldn’t overcome his strength. Passing by the master bedroom, his steps paused slightly. Then he kicked open the door next to it and shoved me inside. Watching the door close, I reached out to stop it: “Let me out…” But I was still a step too late. Outside the door, Dylan said coldly: “Disgusted, huh? Tonight there’s something even more disgusting waiting for you.” “Fiona, come upstairs.” Hearing this, I froze in place, cold from head to toe. A moment later, intimate kissing sounds came from the other side of the wall. Fiona’s sultry moans also rang in my ears: “You’re so bad, making Lynn listen to us through the wall.” “There’s something even worse. Want to try it…” I covered my ears. But the sounds still leaked through my fingers. The cold seeped into my heart thread by thread, hurting so much I curled up on the floor. My mind was at war with itself. One moment it was Dylan’s kindness to me, his promises, his smile. The next moment I couldn’t help but imagine him and Fiona’s entangled bodies along with the sounds. My head hurt terribly. I frantically pulled out my antidepressants from my clothes, stuffing them into my mouth one by one. I don’t know how much time passed before Dylan, wrapped in a bathrobe, opened the door and looked down at me condescendingly: “Can’t take it already? How are you going to get through this whole year?” Behind him, Fiona, covered in intimate marks, laughed: “Dylan, you’re not feeling sorry for her, are you?” Dylan’s eyes flickered, but he still sneered: “How could I?” “I married her to make her feel the same pain I felt. Why would I feel sorry for her?” I looked up in shock. Despair spread from my heart. It was all fake—no love, just a long-planned revenge against me. Breaking down to the extreme paradoxically gave me a burst of strength. I suddenly stood up and slapped Dylan across the face. The crisp sound made all three of us freeze simultaneously. After a few seconds, Dylan roared: “You dare hit me? Lynn, you really have a death wish!” The heartache reached its peak. I laughed bitterly: “Didn’t you bet that when I found out you cheated I’d slap you? Now I did. Why are you upset?” I laughed even louder: “But if it were Ethan, I really wouldn’t have hit him. Because I couldn’t bear to hit him.” As my words fell, Dylan’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. He stared at me for a long moment, then smiled: “On purpose?” “Then as you wish.” Dylan stepped back, the door closing bit by bit before my eyes. This time, I didn’t try to stop it. Instead, I stepped backward to the bed. When the sounds from next door started again, I piled up the blankets. Standing on them, I opened the skylight Dylan had custom-made for me and climbed onto the roof little by little. With each step, a voice in my ear urged me: “Just die. Dylan doesn’t love you anymore. Being with you is just for revenge. Only by truly dying can you find release.” The moment the voice faded, I smiled and leaped from the roof. This time, it was my body passing by Dylan’s window. “Lynn, no!” Inside the room, Dylan’s eyes nearly split with rage as he rushed toward the window.

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I had been dating Sebastian for ten years. He proposed seven times. The first time, my dad was in the ICU. I refused. The second time, my mom was entangled in a lawsuit. I refused again. Later, after both my parents passed away one after another, I was depressed for a long time and had no desire to get married. After the seventh time, he never brought it up again. So this year, I decided I would be the one to propose, but he didn’t show up. He said, “Work is busy. Let’s talk about it tomorrow when we meet.” I walked down the street alone, feeling dejected, when I saw him with his arm around a girl. The next second, the two of them kissed passionately. Their friends remarked, “Sebastian, you two are so in love. You’ve been together for ten years now, right?” Hearing this, Sebastian smiled and nodded. But I felt like I’d been frozen in place. They’d been together for ten years? Then what had these ten years between Sebastian and me been? I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just silently sent Sebastian a message: [So ten years ago when you first proposed to me, you were already with her?] From the first time I rejected Sebastian’s proposal, I’d always felt guilty. But I never imagined he’d betrayed me long ago. Sebastian happened to look down at his phone just then. We weren’t far apart. I could see him frown. After that, Sebastian looked up. He spotted me. But he showed no panic. He just glared at me with displeasure and mouthed, “Stop being ridiculous.” I couldn’t help but laugh. My boyfriend was kissing another woman in his arms, and he thought I was being ridiculous? I looked down, sent a message, then turned and left. Actually, I’d known three years ago that he didn’t love me anymore. On my birthday last month, I’d hinted to Sebastian that I wanted to get married. He just gave a perfunctory “mm-hmm,” no proposal, no follow-up. In that moment, my heart ached. That was the first time I’d thought about breaking up. But I couldn’t bear to. I really couldn’t bear to. Just then, I received Sebastian’s reply: [Sophie lost a game. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?] Sophie? How intimate he sounded calling her that. I still remembered the first time he met her, he told me, “You don’t know how annoying my boss’s daughter is at the company. She doesn’t know anything but keeps pestering me with questions all day.” It had only been a few years, and now she was “Sophie.” Perhaps because I didn’t reply, Sebastian sent a few more messages. [Are you upset I didn’t celebrate with you? I told you work was busy.] [Can’t you tell this is a company dinner?] From Sebastian’s tone, it sounded like I was the one being unreasonable. So I replied: [Yeah, I can tell. So someone like me who’s unreasonable doesn’t deserve you. Let’s break up.]

After sending that message, I turned off my phone. I didn’t want to say another word to Sebastian. Actually, when it comes to love, the one being loved has the most say. I knew Sebastian was just as reluctant as I was to let go. After all, we used to consider each other people we couldn’t lose for the rest of our lives. When my parents got into trouble one after another, we needed a lot of money. Sebastian worked desperately back then, making every dollar count for two. All the money he saved went to me. Even his parents said, “You’re lovesick, aren’t you?” Sebastian didn’t deny it. He just smiled and said, “She’s worth it.” How could she not be worth it! Thinking about this, my tears fell uncontrollably. Looking at this home I’d decorated myself, I cried even harder. I cried like this for a long time. Before I knew it, I’d finished packing my things. Although I’d decorated this home, Sebastian bought it. Now that we were breaking up, naturally I had to leave. But I didn’t expect that everything truly belonging to me fit in just one suitcase. I was staring at the suitcase in a daze when the door was pushed open. Sebastian and Sophie burst in. Seeing me and the suitcase, he said, “Still making a scene?” “Don’t tell me you’re breaking up with him because you saw us hugging?” Sophie looked at me with a mocking smile. “Rachel, you’re really funny. A man as great as Mr. Collins—if you break up with him, I’ll make my move, you know.” “Stop it.” Sebastian looked at Sophie affectionately, then gently pulled her to sit on the sofa. “Rest for a bit. I’ll make you some sobering tea.” Sebastian seemed to have forgotten my existence as he attended to Sophie without a care. I thought our thirty years of friendship would bind me for life. I didn’t expect this one incident to kill my heart. Thinking this, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. “What are you laughing at?” Sophie had somehow appeared in front of me. Meeting her disdainful gaze, I spread my hands. “None of your business.” Leaving Sophie behind, I grabbed my suitcase to leave. But the moment I turned around, a scream rang out. The next instant, I saw Sophie sitting on the floor. In the blink of an eye, Sebastian was at Sophie’s side. “What happened?” Sophie’s eyes immediately reddened as she pointed at me. “Rachel, do you hate me this much? I already told you it was just a business dinner with Mr. Collins. Did you really have to hurt me like this?” “I was just joking with you. Did you take it seriously?” As Sophie spoke, she raised her hand. Seeing blood flowing from it, I silently applauded her performance. She was already the boss’s daughter. She could just crook her finger and have him by her side, couldn’t she? Using this kind of method instead—how ridiculous. I didn’t want to be disgusted, so I said nothing and quickly left. I drove aimlessly through the streets. My phone seemed to have a button pressed, ringing constantly. I knew it was Sebastian, so I didn’t even look. Finally, the car stopped downstairs from my parents’ old house. When my phone rang again, I answered it, and Sebastian’s accusatory voice came through. “Rachel, you’ve gone too far. Come to the hospital right now and apologize to Sophie, or don’t blame me for breaking up with you.” “Sebastian, just be tough for once and actually break up with me, okay? Why else would you be calling if you don’t want to break up?” I shot back sarcastically. Sebastian had no response. After about twenty seconds, he finally spoke. “Rachel, you shouldn’t have hurt Sophie. You know very well I love you and want to be with you. Why are you so intolerant?” I’m intolerant? Three years ago, when Sebastian didn’t propose to me for the first time, I panicked a bit. When I found Sebastian, I saw him shopping with Sophie.

Facing my questioning, the exhaustion in Sebastian’s eyes was clearly visible. “Rachel, I’m not like you. I’m at Collins Corporation. To do this job well, I have to follow the boss’s wishes.” “When did you become so inconsiderate?” “So accompanying your boss’s daughter shopping is part of your job?” “Yes.” The Sebastian I knew wasn’t someone who would sell himself like this. So we had a huge fight. Sebastian said my thinking was vile. “I’m just shopping with Sophie, and you think I’m cheating? Rachel, when did you become like this?” These words feel so ironic now. Perhaps at that time Sebastian really hadn’t thought about being with Sophie, but his internal scales had already tipped then—he just hadn’t realized it himself. “Sebastian, you have surveillance cameras at home. Check the footage and you’ll know everything.” “No matter what the truth is, we’ve already broken up. Don’t contact me anymore.” Without waiting for Sebastian to respond, I hung up directly. Looking at this familiar house, I felt a wave of emotion. Mom and Dad were right—never count on a man. After tidying up a bit, I went to sleep. I slept very soundly that night. The next day I contacted my boss and accepted the offer to work in another city. My boss was puzzled. “Can you bear to leave your boyfriend?” Everyone at the company knew I had a boyfriend I’d been dating for ten years. Sometimes they’d tease me. “Your boyfriend probably doesn’t love you. Ten years and he still hasn’t married you?” I knew they were joking, but I felt guilty. I remember once when I’d been drinking, I pretended to be drunk and proposed to Sebastian. But he dodged. His expression at that moment couldn’t lie. Some obsessions, like anything else, must be abandoned when it’s time. “Yeah, we broke up.” Hearing me say this, my boss was at a loss for words. Finally he forced a smile. “Alright, I’ll arrange it. And I’ve arranged a handsome guy over there for you.” My boss made me laugh. Handling the work transition took three days. During those three days, Sebastian didn’t contact me once. Instead, Sophie added me on SnapChat. I hadn’t planned to accept, but Sophie somehow found my phone number. Not knowing the unknown number was her, the moment I answered, Sophie’s mocking voice came through. “What, scared? Afraid to accept? Don’t want to admit you couldn’t keep a man for ten years?” “Sophie, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve known Sebastian for ten years too, right? If he loved you so much, would he still not have broken up with me?” “Don’t you know I already proposed breaking up?” “But Sebastian still thinks I’m just making a scene. Miss Collins, seems your skills are pretty average too.” My mouth has never been forgiving. Sophie had only seen my silent side and thought I was easy to bully. Now my words made her cry. “Rachel, just you wait.” “Fine, I’m waiting.” Right after hanging up, my boss sent a message. The plane ticket was ready, for two days later. The contact person at the branch office had also added me. This time I was really leaving. Before leaving, I went to many places. Only after making this round did I realize all these places were ones Sebastian and I had visited together. So you really can’t put all your eggs in one basket, otherwise when you look back, no matter what you think of, it feels like thinking of that bastard. But I didn’t expect Sophie’s “just you wait” meant she’d expose me online.

I received a call from an old classmate just as I was returning from the cemetery. “Rachel, when did you and Sebastian break up? Why are they saying you’re Sebastian’s mistress and that you’ve been harassing him? You came to the class reunion last year, didn’t you?” Hearing this, I froze. As my roommate for four years of college, she understood immediately. “Shit, Sebastian cheated?” “Yeah.” “Check online quickly. I’m so fucking…” My roommate was so angry she started cursing. I didn’t waste time either and quickly checked my phone. That’s when I saw Sophie had started a livestream. She already ran an account documenting her daily life as a rich kid. Over the past few years, riding the trend, she’d accumulated quite a few followers. Her livestream had been running for half an hour, and I was already trending. Someone had dug up everything about me and posted it. When netizens learned both my parents had died, they said people like me deserved dead parents. Seeing my mom had been involved in an infidelity case, they said, “Like mother, like daughter. This is a habitual offender.” Sophie was leading the narrative, and everyone was cursing me. Seeing my photo turned into a memorial portrait, I felt nothing. But seeing my parents dragged out and insulted, I couldn’t take it. With trembling hands, I called Sebastian. “Did you see it?” “I saw it.” “So you have nothing to say?” Facing my questioning, Sebastian sighed. “Why did you make Sophie angry? And you…” “And what? Didn’t you watch the surveillance footage?” I never imagined Sebastian could be like this. My questioning made Sebastian somewhat defensive and angry. “Yes, I watched it. I know Sophie deliberately framed you, but so what? Are you blameless? If you hadn’t targeted Sophie, would she have framed you? Would she have exposed you like this?” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh. In the end, it was all my fault. I laughed at myself. “Sebastian, when did we break up?” “Stop making a scene. We won’t break up. You and I have been together ten years. We…” Sebastian stopped here, paused for a while, then sighed. “We’ll get married.” How ridiculous. Watching his ambiguous partner slander me while he did nothing, yet still saying he’d marry me. At this moment, I felt like I didn’t know Sebastian anymore. “My parents were very good to you. They’re already dead. Now that people are insulting them like this, you’re just going to watch?” “Rachel, this kind of heat dies down quickly. As long as Sophie calms down, she won’t target you anymore…” Sebastian kept talking, every word standing on Sophie’s side. I suddenly remembered something my boss said: “People don’t become rotten overnight.” It seems I never saw clearly. I didn’t listen to Sebastian continue and hung up directly. That day my boss said he’d help me fight back, and even my classmates said they’d testify for me. I was deeply moved that they stood by me, so I asked them to record videos. Then I also found evidence of my relationship with Sebastian over the years. Looking at those traces of our time together, my tears still fell uncontrollably. When I was tired of crying, I laughed at myself. “Sebastian, I don’t love you anymore.” I was hung out online for two days without fighting back. On the day I left, I posted a video online. Caption: [Turns out a person can really go from deeply loving you to not loving you at all, and even make cheating sound so refreshingly innocent.] After doing all this, I boarded the plane to leave.

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