My parents always claimed to treat all their children exactly the same. Whenever there was a chance to get something new for the house, they’d make the three of us kids draw lots via a group text app to decide who would buy it. And I always seemed to draw the big-ticket items—like a dishwasher, an AC unit, or a massage chair. Meanwhile, my younger brother and older sister would only ever draw cheap, insignificant things, like a $30 blender or a basic grocery care package. It wasn’t until the day I helped my dad fix his phone that a text message popped up: “Hey man, the lottery bot app updated. You can rig the results and run multiple draws now. You said the client is getting suspicious? Just set the same result three times in a row.” That’s when I realized I was the “client.” That evening, the family group chat lit up again. My dad texted: “We need to upgrade to a minivan for family road trips. Let’s see which sweet child gets the lucky draw today!” But what my dad didn’t know was that I had already installed an anti-cheat lottery app on my phone. In the end, the person who drew the short straw to buy the car was my little brother. My parents were absolutely stunned. 1 When the draw results popped up, the group chat went a bit quiet. My brother, Tyler, was in disbelief: “Me???” I chimed in: “Wow! Tyler, you’re the lucky winner!” My dad was probably a little confused. He sent a voice memo to the group: “Alright! Just to be fair, let’s do best out of three!” The results disappointed my dad. The next draw picked my older sister, Chloe, and the final draw picked Tyler again. I was completely left out. Chloe sent a speechless emoji: “Lost my chance to treat mom and dad.” Tyler got angry: “What the heck! Why is my luck so bad today!” Me: [?????] My mom came out to smooth things over: “What do you mean ‘bad luck’? Spending money on your parents is called giving back. Your sister was so happy when she drew the central AC before! When she got her $12,000 year-end bonus, she spent it on us—that’s what we call a blessing!” Tyler grumbled: “What blessing? Let Chloe have this blessing then!” I suppressed the cold laugh in my heart and replied: “I’ve drawn a $5,000 massage chair, a $2,000 fridge, and a $12,000 central AC system before. What did you guys say back then? Didn’t you say that God favors those who honor their parents? Why are you unhappy now that you won?” Tyler lost his temper: “Harper Vance! Stop being so sarcastic! This car is $25,000! Why don’t you buy it for Mom and Dad!” As soon as Tyler said that, the group chat suddenly went dead silent. Nobody had called me by that name in a long time. 2 There are three kids in my family: my older sister Chloe, my younger brother Tyler, and me, Harper Vance. Actually, I didn’t realize there was anything wrong with my given middle name until right before I got married. I even thought “Harper” and my middle name, “Dawn,” sounded very pretty together. But one day, while bickering with my fiancé, Liam, he blurted out that my parents didn’t love me at all. I argued back: “My parents don’t love me? Who made the pot roast you ate for lunch today? If they didn’t love me, would they cook for me and drive all the way here to drop it off?” He unceremoniously punctured my delusion: “The money your parents spend on you is less than a tenth of what they spend on your sister and brother, but the return they get from you is more than a hundred times that. What’s a little pot roast? For your sister’s birthday, your parents gave her a gold bracelet. For your birthday, they made you a bowl of pot roast, and you’re proud of it?” “They only love you with their words.” I was so angry at the time. I repeatedly defended my parents, saying they were very fair, and even accused him of not understanding sibling dynamics because he was an only child. When the argument reached its peak, he blurted out: “If your parents really love you, why did they give you the middle name Dawn?” I froze. So, I quickly called my mom: “Mom, why is my middle name Dawn?” My mom hesitated for half a minute: “Huh? Dawn as in the break of day, Dawn is…” Liam typed on his phone next to me to show me: “Ask Mom directly, is it supposed to mean ‘Dawn of a son’?” I asked nervously: “Mom, when you gave me this name, was it because you were hoping for the dawn of a baby boy?” I tried to make my tone sound as light as possible. My mom sighed in relief: “We were able to have your brother all thanks to you bringing in the dawn! I’ll have to make that brat buy you dinner sometime!” My face instantly turned cold: “Mom, you always said my brother was an accident. You said you didn’t specifically keep trying just because you wanted a boy!” My mom panicked: “Hey, Harper, listen to me…” After hanging up the phone, my face was dead pale. Liam hurriedly apologized: “I’m sorry, honey, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have said anything!” “Dawn of a son.” How could I have not realized this for the past few decades? 3 I suddenly intensely hated the middle name Dawn. Later, Liam pulled some strings and helped me legally change my middle name to “Grace.” The name was chosen together with my in-laws, meaning elegance and blessing. When my mom found out, she scoffed: “What kind of name is that? It sounds so stuck-up. Good thing you’re already married, otherwise I’d think that name was cursing you to end up alone.” I didn’t respond, but I felt incredibly sad inside. 4 The next afternoon, my mom called me. “Grace, are you still mad? Your brother is just a jerk, I’ve already scolded him.” I said: “It’s nothing, I’m not holding it against him.” My mom sighed: “Out of the three kids in our family, you are the most worry-free, the most sensible, and the most capable. Mom and Dad are counting on you in the future.” She rambled on to me for over half an hour. She said Tyler’s company was doing layoffs and pay cuts, and he was in a bad mood. She said my dad scolded Tyler yesterday and praised me for my great contributions to the family. Finally, realizing I wasn’t actually angry, she reminded me: “We won’t cook for the family dinner this weekend. Your dad’s shoulder pain is acting up again, let’s just go to The Olive Branch.” I said okay. 5 On the day of the family dinner, my brother immediately showed off to me, saying he bought the car. I was a little surprised. My dad said: “Of course! How else can you say a son is like a nuclear weapon—you might not use it, but you can’t be without one!” “Tyler is really practical. It’ll be so convenient for the family to go out in the future. He’s much better than those kids who only care about themselves.” My expression remained normal, pretending not to understand. “Harper, it’s not that Dad wants to criticize you, but look at your brother. Even though he wasn’t happy about it verbally, he still bought it for us right away! And you? You make a good living running your salon, right? I never see you take the initiative to buy anything for the house; Mom and Dad always have to rely on a lottery to decide.” Chloe kept shrinking into the background, trying to minimize her presence. I put down my water glass and looked at my dad: “Dad, didn’t you say you wanted to treat us all equally? So buying anything for you relies on a lottery? I never said a word about whatever I drew before, did I?” Seeing the tension rising, my mom finally spoke up. “But your dad really miscalculated this time. The base price of the car was over $28,000. The down payment alone wiped out your brother’s savings. Mom and Dad were thinking, could you two share a bit of the burden? Next time we need something, we won’t ask you guys.” Chloe quickly waved her hands: “My monthly salary is only $3,200, and my rent is $1,500. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I don’t have the money.” My brother opportunistically chimed in, saying he took a pay cut and a $900 monthly car payment was really too much to handle. I just kept my head down and ate, not saying a word. 6 Actually, Liam and I keep our finances relatively separate; he takes care of the household expenses and the mortgage. I studied biotechnology in college, worked for ten years after graduation, and then started my own business, opening a high-end salon. Liam comes from a very good family. He never questions how I spend my money. Whatever I buy, he always provides full emotional support—either praising my good taste or saying it suits me perfectly. In addition, he gives me a separate $3,000 a month in allowance. Even my friends say that a man like Liam is a scarce resource—rich, handsome, and treats his wife so well. Liam has money, and I have money too. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to continue unconditionally giving to my family after realizing I’m just being treated like an ATM. 7 I coughed: “Mom, Dad! Actually, there’s something I haven’t dared to tell you.” My parents suddenly got a little nervous. “In the first half of the year, the salon brought in a batch of new equipment. As a result, that batch was sued for patent infringement by a medical device company this year. The equipment has been seized, and I’ve lost over $150,000. The salon’s cash flow is having some problems. Mom, Dad, can you lend me some money? Once I turn things around, I’ll pay you back immediately!” The atmosphere at the dinner table instantly plummeted. My mom spoke first: “How could you lose so much? Hasn’t your salon always been very profitable? $150,000! How could you be so careless!” My dad’s tone sank: “We haven’t even figured out this car loan yet, where would the family have spare cash to fill your hole? Besides, doing business requires stability, what are you doing messing around blindly!” My mom’s tone carried a bit of blame: “If I had known you were going to mess around like this, I should have just made you work a stable 9-to-5 job.” “I didn’t want this either. I thought I could make more money so I could help out more when the family needed it in the future. Who knew I’d lose this much.” I tried hard to squeeze out a few tears: “The salon hasn’t had many customers lately, and the employees’ salaries are suffocating me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been so nervous about the lottery last time—if I really drew it, what would I use to buy it?” I looked at my parents with expectant eyes: “I just… I really have no other choice but to ask you guys. After all, you’re my own parents. I can’t exactly borrow from strangers, right?” “It’s not that Mom and Dad are heartless, but we only have a little bit of retirement money. If we take it out and give it to you now, what happens if one of us gets sick or has an accident? Who will take care of us? Can’t you be considerate of Mom and Dad’s difficulties?” Hearing this, my heart went completely cold. I picked up my bag and said coldly: “Alright Mom, Dad, I understand. I have things to do, so I’ll leave first.” Seeing my attitude, my mom suddenly stood up: “Hey, why are you getting angry…” I ignored her and slammed the door as I left. When I got to the parking lot, I realized I forgot my car keys and had to turn back to get them. 8 Just as I reached the elevator lobby, I ran into my parents and the others. They didn’t see me, so I quickly hid to the side. My brother said: “Mom, Dad! I kept winking at you, why didn’t you see it? Why were you so definitive at the dinner table! Her in-laws are so rich, would they really just watch her salon go bankrupt? Great, now you’ve completely pissed her off!” Chloe also complained: “Exactly! Mom, Dad, you always said people need to be a little strategic. You have to act like you’re treating everyone equally so Harper is willing to help us out. How could you lose your cool first?” “Shh! Do you want to die? Why are you still calling her Harper Dawn!” My mom hit my sister. My mom then turned and scolded my dad, saying he made the lottery too obvious. How could the expensive items coincidentally always be drawn by me? My dad retorted, telling them to stop acting smart after the fact. “Right, Dad, your lottery app definitely has a problem. We need to change to a different one.” Chloe agreed: “Exactly, it almost scared me to death that day.” “Think of a way to apologize to her, otherwise it’ll be even more impossible to expect to get money out of her in the future. You guys are terrible teammates. I was hoping to checkmate her today and make her pay the car loan, now there’s no chance!” My mom affectionately patted him: “Anyway, we already transferred the car money to you, stop nagging.” That’s when it dawned on me. No wonder my brother bought the car so quickly. At this time, Chloe started whining to my mom again: “You bought Tyler a car, when are you buying me one?” “Wait a little longer. Let’s see if her salon is really going to close. If it really closes, she’ll probably still have a lot of money left over from selling the business. We’ll think of a way to get some more money from her then.” Watching the back of this happy family of four, I felt both angry and heartbroken. They didn’t care what would happen to my salon or what would happen to me; they only blindly thought about how to extort a little more. 9 When I got home, Liam was looking at me with a wicked smile. “How was it? Did I win the bet, hahaha! You didn’t manage to borrow any money, did you, hahahaha!” Liam laughed so hard he rolled on the bed. I picked up my phone and transferred $7,000 to him. Seeing my desolate expression, my husband panicked a little. “What’s wrong?” I sniffled, suppressing the soreness in my chest: “I just feel like the first thirty years of my life have been a joke.” He took a tissue and wiped the corners of my eyes: “Don’t say that. It’s because you’re kind that you were fooled by their ‘fairness’ for so long.” I suddenly started crying loudly. “Honey, don’t scare me! Don’t cry, okay, okay, I’ll give the money back to you, and I’ll give you another $7,000.” I didn’t speak, just kept crying. He had to hold me, gently patting my shoulder. He waited until my emotions stabilized. I asked Liam: “What kind of person do you think I am?” He was stunned: “What do you mean? You are the most beautiful! Most kind! Most gentle fairy wife in the world!” I wiped my tears: “I care for my family, I honor my parents. When our family was struggling financially when I was little, as the middle child, I always worked hard to help my parents out, wanting to make things easier for them. I even worked part-time and used student loans for college. Why do they only treat me as a machine they can bleed dry?” My husband sighed: “Honey, do you know what your biggest problem is when dealing with your family of origin?” 10 I talked a lot with my husband and figured out a lot of things. How people treat you depends on where your own bottom line is. If you keep letting others frantically test your limits and push further, then you will only keep retreating step by step. In the end, the person who suffers will always be you.

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My stepbrother hated my guts. But I loved shadowing him. He paid me three grand just to skip walking to school with him, and thirty grand to transfer out of his class. Except every single time, I’d find my way back into his orbit. After graduation, he wired a massive sum to my account and said coldly: “There’s three-quarters of a million dollars. Go study abroad and never show your face in my house again.” My eyes welled up, and I lowered my head, whispering, “Okay.” Yes! Finally pulled it off. 01 I walked in on Tyler and the scholarship kid, Maya, right before they kissed. It was in a dimly lit VIP booth at a club. He was lounging in a corner sofa, looking exhausted, his eyes closed. His sharp profile was half-lost in the shadows. Maya, standing there in her white dress, had her hands planted on either side of him on the couch, tentatively leaning down, getting closer and closer to his face. Then I barged in. She jumped, turning around to face me in a panic. Her eyes were wide and watery, like a deer caught in headlights. “Harper, I…” I walked right past her, straight up to Tyler. ” The driver’s here. Dad told me to make sure you got a ride home too.” He picked up his jacket from beside him, threw it on, and followed me out. It was late, and the hallway was nearly empty. He pulled the door shut but didn’t move. He just leaned against it, standing there lazily. “She almost kissed me.” “…” I didn’t say anything. His voice took on an annoyed edge. “She’s terrified of everything. It took a lot for her to work up the courage to do that.” I unlocked my phone, showed him the time, and the text message my stepdad—his dad—had sent me. I explained in a low voice. “Dad really did tell me to give you a ride.” He glanced at it, dismissing me with a grunt. “Oh.” “I’m eighteen now, and I’m done with high school. He can’t control me anymore. Tattling won’t do you any good.” A flicker of neon light passed over us, illuminating his face. His cheeks were flushed. He was drunk. I gripped my sleeves, my voice barely audible. “But…” He cut me off quickly. “Take your own Uber back.” “And another thing—” His fingers tapped rapidly on his phone screen. “There’s three-quarters of a million dollars. Go study abroad and never show your face in my house again.” “Let’s make sure we never see each other after this.” “Harper, I really, truly hate you.” He was never going to see me again. My eyes instantly turned red. I lowered my head, holding back a sob. “Okay.” Tyler turned, walked back into the booth, and slammed the door hard behind him. I checked the numbers in my mobile banking app. I couldn’t help it. I crouched down, covered my mouth, and let out a sob that turned into a giggle. Yes! Finally pulled it off. 02 Tyler had hated me for a long time. He thought my mom and I were just gold diggers after the Vance family fortune. Well, he was smart about that. When I was fourteen, he put two lizards in my bed, trying to scare me into leaving his house. I screamed and cried. To comfort me, my stepdad gave me a huge allowance. Seeing the money made me happy again. When I was sixteen, Tyler and I were sent to the same private high school. He didn’t want to be in the same class as me, but he also didn’t want his dad to hit him and then give me money to make up for it. So, he skipped the intermediate steps. “Thirty grand.” “Transfer out of this homeroom.” Freshman year, I left. Sophomore year, I came back. He hadn’t specified a time limit. When I walked back into the classroom with my backpack, Tyler’s face was thunderous. The guy sitting in front of him grinned. “Ty, your sister is nothing if not persistent.” Tyler said coldly, “She is not my sister.” Everyone in the room gave a knowing smile. Tyler looked at me, scowling. “What is it actually going to take for you to disappear?” My eyes welled up. “Do you really hate me that much?” He flashed some numbers on his phone. I bit my lip. “Sorry. I think I walked into the wrong classroom today.” 03 I had identified a business opportunity. Tyler was seriously rich. His mom, who lived in Europe, had already paved the way for him with a massive trust fund. When he played golf, I’d be right there on the sidelines, acting as his hype man, holding his water and jacket. He came over to confront me once. I looked up at him, my eyes shining with feigned admiration. “Can’t I just look up to my big brother?” He Venmoed me money. “If you have nothing to do, go shopping. Stop annoying me.” Well, I had to accept the contribution. I shadowed Tyler for over a year. Everyone in our circle knew he had this stepsister, and they even joked about it, saying they’d send him flowers when he inevitably ended up on the news for losing it on me. Over time, Tyler stopped bothering to explain. He just consistently offered me money to get lost. But I wasn’t about to abandon my ATM. For Tyler’s eighteenth birthday party, he drank. When he got home from the venue, I was there with one hand holding an electrolyte drink and the other stabilizing him. I was hoping he was drunk enough to miscount the zeros on a bank transfer. He squinted, looking down at me, and suddenly said, “Harper, you are seriously calculating and manipulative.” There was a hint of mockery in his voice. I paused, my foot on the stairs. Getting insulted was going to cost extra. Without warning, he grabbed my waist, flipped the light switch, and pinned me against the railing of the spiral staircase to kiss me. Everything went dark instantly. My entire vision was filled with his face. His breath felt like a raging storm. Stunned, I shoved him away hard. The bottle in my hand hit the floor with a clatter and rolled down the stairs. My stepdad stood at the top of the stairs, asking, “Harper? Is everything okay?” I suppressed my shaking voice, putting on my usual aggrieved tone to complain: “Tyler’s drunk. He’s throwing a tantrum and smashed my bottle.” Tyler leaned against the railing, head down, not saying a word in the darkness. My stepdad sighed. “He’s always like this, goes crazy when he drinks. Ignore him. Go back to your room and rest. I’ll help him up.” I fled to my room. At 3:00 AM, Tyler texted me. [I’m sorry.] [I couldn’t see straight. I thought you were someone else.] It was the first time he had ever apologized to me. But it was an insult. It came with a Venmo transfer. I didn’t accept it, and I didn’t reply. 04 I found out later who that “someone else” was. One of Tyler’s many admirers. Maya Hayes, a scholarship student constantly ranked in the top ten of our class. She was insecure and timid, only daring to look up at him from afar. Somehow, Tyler had noticed her. He had said, “She’s just like Harper, always putting on that pathetic, pitiful act.” “Who is she trying to fool?” He hated me, yet he seemed drawn to Maya when she acted that way. After school, I was sitting in the car waiting for him. Then I saw a girl in the school uniform following behind him. The car door opened. He didn’t get in. He was holding her backpack. He raised an eyebrow at me and said casually, “Get out.” I was stunned for a second. Maya carefully reached out, grabbing his arm and giving it a gentle shake. Her voice was soft. “It’s okay, Tyler.” “I can take the bus back.” Tyler didn’t back down. His voice grew cold. “I’m driving her home.” “I sent you money. Take an Uber.” Why couldn’t he give me a bit more so I could just buy my own car and drive back? Whatever. Don’t push your luck. I nodded in humiliation, bit my lip, squeezed my backpack straps, and obediently got out of the car. It was dusk, and the crowd of students was dispersing. I stood by the roadside alone, staring at the tips of my shoes, tears falling one by one. It wasn’t until the car had driven off in the completely opposite direction that I wiped away my tears and opened Tyler’s message. $2,000? Good thing I didn’t check the message right in front of him. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to cry. 05 Tyler’s three-quarters of a million dollars came too late. I hadn’t prepared for the English proficiency exams in advance, so I had to cancel most of my summer travel plans and parties, holed up in my room memorizing vocabulary. Tyler was downstairs throwing a party with his friends. The speakers were incredibly loud. I took off my noise-canceling headphones and walked downstairs. “Can you turn it down a little?” Tyler’s friend patted the empty spot next to him and smiled. “Harper, you’re home? Why don’t you come join us?” I pressed my lips together in an embarrassed smile. “I’m upstairs studying.” “Studying?” Someone finally turned off the music to listen to me speak. “I thought people who studied this hard over summer break only existed on the internet.” “Maya came out to play, you should too.” Tyler never looked up from his phone the entire time. Maya was sitting next to him, smiling gently and sweetly at me. Then she took on a hesitant look. “Harper, you aren’t… planning on retaking your senior year, are you?” I wasn’t close with her. For her to call me by a nickname like that, it looked like things were progressing with Tyler. She continued, “It’s okay if you didn’t do well on the SATs.” “Mr. Vance is so rich, I’m sure he has plenty of connections to get you into a school.” Sensing the tension between us, everyone went quiet. I said softly, “Yeah, my family has money. It doesn’t matter what my scores are.” “Maya, are you worried about not getting in anywhere?” Her face went pale. Tyler finally looked up, giving her hand a reassuring pat. “Harper, don’t be a bitch.” I nodded. “Okay.” “I’m going up to study. Keep it down, please.” I put my headphones back on and walked up the stairs. I could feel several pairs of eyes on my back, making my skin crawl. 06 On score release day, Maya was also at the Vance house. The excuse this time was that her ancient computer at home had broken down. Even though Tyler knew the scores were sent via text message, he still indulged her and brought her back. Around 3:00 PM, I heard sobbing from Tyler’s study. I couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or joy. The text message didn’t give the total score. Tyler was holding a calculator, adding up each section for her. I was heading out for a prep class and passed his study. The door wasn’t shut. He was leaning against a bookshelf, reading out the score. “1520.” Just loud enough for me to hear. He knew I was walking by. He didn’t look up. “What about you?” Maya looked confused. “What?” I was downstairs putting on my shoes and replied casually. “1580.” Better than I expected. I was just waiting for him to ask. Something suddenly dropped to the floor inside the room. It made a sharp sound. 07 “My dad wants you to go to Harvard.” That evening, Tyler was standing outside my room, speaking through the door. My stepdad was a pretty traditional guy. He valued prestige and thought having a child go to an Ivy League school would give him more social standing. I held the doorknob, wanting to shut the door. “But you told me to go abroad.” “…” Tyler was silent for a moment, then laughed. “You listen to me now?” The money was in the bank; of course I was going to listen. Though in the past, I admittedly only listened halfway. He’d tell me to get lost, I’d get lost for an hour, and then I’d come back. This time, I was too embarrassed to do that. Three-quarters of a million dollars. I promised that once I took it, I was gone. I’d never show up again. Family gatherings? My mom and I could eat at a separate table. He said, “So you’re ignoring what my dad wants?” I had played the obedient child at home often enough. I lowered my head and bit my lip, putting on my best meek and mild act, fiddling with the hem of my dress. He said, “Give me your login passwords. I’ll fill out your applications.” I said weakly, “Don’t send me to some community college in the middle of nowhere.” Tyler let out a light laugh. “You know I won’t.” I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I was preparing to accept an offer from a university in London. 08 To play it safe. Tyler filled out his own top choice as Cornell for Agricultural Sciences. For Maya, he filled out Mechanical Engineering. His mom had money and connections over in Europe; he just needed the degree, he didn’t care about the major. As for my applications, he filled all twelve slots with schools in Boston. I’d have to go through and delete every single one of them. Both he and Maya got accepted. He truly didn’t care about Maya’s future career satisfaction either. My stepdad was thrilled and planned to book a hotel for a massive graduation party. At dinner, he opened a bottle of expensive red wine to toast my mom. Tyler walked downstairs and casually mentioned, “Can we have Harper’s party at the same time?” We had had a joint middle school graduation party years ago. My stepdad smiled. “We aren’t throwing a party for Harper yet.” “She’s going abroad. To make sure she doesn’t take up an American student’s spot, she deleted all her domestic applications.” “We’ll throw hers next year.” The faint smile on Tyler’s lips vanished instantly. His face went dark and stormy. “Abroad?” I kept my head down, quietly eating, occasionally taking a small sip of the $15,000 bottle of red wine. I didn’t really appreciate the taste. But the more I drank, the more value I got. I certainly wouldn’t buy it with my own money. My stepdad frowned. “Yeah. The decision was a bit rushed, but I fully support Harper.” “This is such a happy day, why the long face?” Tyler kept his eyes down. “I’m not happy.” My stepdad was confused. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go to the same school as the girl you like. Now you’ve both been accepted, to an Ivy League school no less, what is there to be unhappy about?” “The major is a bit weak, but you can always transfer later. It’s not like we’re actually going to make you a farmer.” “Your mom is happy too. She wants you to go visit her in Europe for a month this summer.” Tyler asked, “Which country?” My stepdad slammed his chopsticks down. “You don’t even know which country your own mother lives in anymore?” He looked at me. “I’m asking Harper.” My stepdad silently picked up his chopsticks. I set down my wine glass, carefully raising my eyes. “I haven’t decided yet.”

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Back in college, he aggressively pursued my roommate, Chloe Evans. He used every trick in the book. Luxury gifts arrived one after another, and he even made a massive scene by delivering nine thousand roses to the courtyard of our sorority house. Everyone in our house benefited; we were carrying armfuls of roses back inside like we were clearing out a florist. Chloe was the only one who remained completely stone-faced. She even warned Liam Carter never to come looking for her again. “He’s loaded, and he’s not bad looking. Do you seriously not want him?” I asked her, a sheet mask plastered to my face. It was a question that had been baffling me for a while. She had such a gorgeous face, yet she spent every day hanging around that sketchy older guy who bounced between dead-end jobs. “I don’t. That kind of stiff, boring guy… if you want him, go ahead and chase him,” Chloe sneered dismissively. I rested my chin in my hand, thought about it for a brief moment, and nodded. “Okay. “I will.” 01 Chloe’s expression faltered, but she didn’t say anything else. After my mask was done, I washed my face and went downstairs. “She has a boyfriend.” Holding an umbrella, I looked at Liam, who was standing outside our house in the rain, staring up at our windows like a sad, devoted golden retriever. I couldn’t help but interject. He froze, pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose, and said apologetically: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Chloe seriously hadn’t told him? He lowered his head, looking completely crushed, and turned to throw the bouquet of black roses in his hand into the trash can. Standing under my umbrella, I watched the rain soak the flowers and felt it was a damn shame. Black roses. I liked them. “Wait, don’t throw them away. Give them to me.” He looked at the rain-soaked roses, let out a self-deprecating laugh, and handed them over. “Okay.” At that moment, his white dress shirt was soaked through from the rain, clinging tightly to his torso and revealing a faint outline of his abs. Clean-cut, gentlemanly, has abs, tall, and obedient. But the most important thing was: he was rich. Honestly, he was exactly my type. “Hey,” I called out to him. He turned around, looking confused. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Chase me instead.” I reached out and held my umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain. I wasn’t bad looking either. I went to bed early, woke up early, and lived a very healthy lifestyle. I jogged four miles every morning, ate a clean dinner every night, and did my skincare routine religiously. I had far more guys chasing me than Chloe did, but I had shot them all down. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and stared at me quietly. It felt like a long time passed. Long enough for his assistant to rush over with an umbrella, long enough for his black SUV to pull up to the curb. “Okay.” 02 He took down my number and left. I turned around and went back upstairs. I had looked into Liam’s background. The moment he graduated, he started his own tech company, and it was scaling rapidly. Once he eventually went back to inherit the Carter Group, he was going to be obscenely wealthy. That was why I could never understand Chloe. Maybe it was because my parents fought constantly over money and eventually divorced, but the absolute number one requirement on my dating checklist was: he has to be rich. If you have money, you don’t have to scream at each other over the electric bill or the cost of groceries. When I walked back into our room, Chloe looked at the flowers in my hands, her face turning ugly. “You don’t have to worry anymore. He won’t bother you again,” I told her as I set the flowers down and started towel-drying my hair. I thought she would breathe a sigh of relief or look like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Instead, her expression grew even darker. “You’re a slut.” … ? She actually cursed at me. Chloe’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough to make the entire room drop into dead silence. I stopped drying my hair. The towel slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a wet smack. I’m not the type to get physical, but in that moment, I still walked over and slapped her across the face. Neither of us were the type to lose control of our emotions, but that day, there was some deeply suppressed, intense emotion brewing in her eyes. I couldn’t read it, and I didn’t care to try. Our housemates were terrified. Some tried to mediate, some held me back, some said I went too far, and others said she was being a massive hypocrite. But I genuinely didn’t understand. She clearly said she didn’t want him. She clearly said his attention was a nuisance. So why, when I took him off her hands, did it suddenly become “stealing”? 03 From that day on, she moved out of the house, and we practically never spoke again. I didn’t let it bother me much. Some people said I was morally bankrupt; others said the same about Chloe. I still didn’t get it. She said Liam’s pursuit was annoying her. She said she didn’t want him. So when I said I wanted him, why was she so pissed off? Fine, be pissed off. But cursing at me? I wasn’t going to tolerate that. Occasionally, I’d hear about her and her boyfriend. Some people said they were a perfect match, the smart girl and the bad boy. People on the campus forums even shipped them. As for me, my interactions with Liam only grew more frequent. He wasn’t great at expressing his emotions, but his manners were impeccable, his behavior completely restrained, and he quickly became the hottest topic on the university gossip boards. I became the girl by his side, and the rumors spread like wildfire. But I didn’t care. I knew exactly what I wanted from the very beginning. On the day of our wedding, Liam was busy until the very last minute, finally rushing in wearing a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit to stand before me. He looked like a freshly calibrated, highly precise piece of machinery. The wedding was incredibly lavish. I didn’t even recognize a third of the names on the guest list. I smiled appropriately, my posture elegant. In every single photo taken that day, I was flawless. I still have no idea how he convinced his parents to let him marry me. It wasn’t a marriage of convenience between two elite families. We weren’t of equal social standing. But his parents were incredibly cultured and polite. The disdain and snobbery I had imagined never happened. They gave us their most sincere blessing: “We hope the two of you support each other and build a wonderful marriage and life together.” After the wedding, my life was incredibly comfortable. Liam was truly, insanely rich. How rich? He had companies operating globally. We flew exclusively on his private jet, and he routinely signed contracts worth hundreds of millions. Marrying him was the smartest decision I ever made. He didn’t understand romance, and he didn’t understand me. He never wrote me love letters, never called me in the middle of the night just to say he missed me. Even on Valentine’s Day, he just had his assistant send flowers. He was the textbook “corporate husband”—calm, disciplined, and boring. Perhaps all his passionate, heart-pounding romantic energy had been entirely spent on Chloe. Being with him felt like I had married a money-making machine. “Is your husband away again? What’s the point of having all that money if he never comes home? Aren’t you lonely?” Sophia, my childhood best friend, asked me one day. We had lost touch a bit after I got married. When she came over, she immediately started complaining on my behalf, feeling that my husband spent way too little time with me. I didn’t agree. I took her on the private jet. How could I be lonely? The world is so massive. I should be thanking my husband for working himself to the bone to make so much money, giving me the chance to go see it all. Anywhere in the world, as long as I wanted to go, I could enjoy the absolute pinnacle of luxury. Lonely? How could I be? 04 My best friend’s expression darkened, and she finally just shook her head: “I still think this isn’t how a marriage should be. Being together is the most important thing. I’d rather struggle through poverty together than live like this.” … I didn’t understand. I was even a little shocked. There was actually someone else who thought exactly like Chloe. But I still felt a little down. Maybe, in their eyes, I was the freak? “I think you’ve changed. You’re not the Harper I grew up with anymore…” She flushed under my gaze, threw down that sentence, and stormed off in a huff. She was right. I had changed. In the beginning, I would take her on trips, cover all the expenses, and give her an authorized user card for whatever spa treatments she wanted. But she always felt humiliated. Everywhere we went, she insisted I calculate exactly how much she owed me, refusing to take advantage of me. Even though I repeatedly told her it wasn’t necessary, and Liam even explicitly told her to keep me company and that he would expense everything, she still refused. When my assistant would give her the heavily discounted receipts for her share of the trips, she would look at the exorbitant numbers, her face turning ugly, and demand the original itemized invoices from the assistant. She cynically suspected my assistant was trying to scam her out of money. Over time, I stopped inviting her out as much. After marriage, the circles I moved in were completely different. I was incredibly busy. Aside from traveling to relax, I enrolled in countless classes, ranging from floral design to French to financial management. I studied relentlessly. Not out of interest, but to prepare for the “what ifs.” I refused to leave this marriage empty-handed. I had heard that Chloe broke up with her sketchy boyfriend, and she had even gotten a job at one of Liam’s subsidiary companies. If the day ever came when Liam suddenly remembered his passionate, unforgettable first love and demanded a divorce, I wasn’t going to fight an unprepared battle. While taking half his assets in a divorce might be unrealistic, I intended to take as much as I legally could. And once I had the money, I needed to know how to manage it. So, I was very busy. 05 When I returned from my trip to Paris, Sophia came over. “Harper, his ‘first love’ is back! The one that got away! And she’s super rich now.” You married Liam for his money, but now you can totally divorce him and marry Julian! “He hasn’t looked for anyone else all these years. He’s still in love with you!” Coincidentally, Liam came home the exact same day I got back. He heard every single word she said. He stood in the foyer, wearing a perfectly pressed suit, his expression mild, betraying no emotion in his eyes. Sophia turned around and instantly went pale. She scrambled to her feet, laughing nervously: “Mr. Carter, you’re home… I was just joking around, Harper wouldn’t actually…” “I didn’t take it seriously.” His tone was calm. He walked in, not even unbuttoning his jacket, holding a gift box he had brought back from his business trip. “I didn’t take it to heart either.” He lowered his eyes and placed the exquisite box in front of me. “You mentioned last time that you wanted the Mille Crepe cake from Hokkaido. I brought it.” My eyes flickered, but my fingers didn’t move. My schedule was managed by my assistant, who reported directly to him. He knew I was coming back today and came home specifically to see me. I knew how incredibly tight his schedule was; making the time to fly back wasn’t easy. “…Thank you.” I heard him give a soft “Mhm” before he turned and headed upstairs. I sat on the couch, staring at the flawless, pristine crepe cake in front of me, and suddenly felt like it would taste like cardboard. 06 Sophia had bolted. She hadn’t expected Liam to come home early. She also hadn’t expected him to be the complete opposite of a “clueless, emotionless robot husband.” Actually, I knew that too. I knew he treated me well. It was just a very specific kind of well. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t “heart-fluttering.” It was just overwhelmingly steady. He and I were alike. We were both extremely disciplined people, and two people that similar rarely sparked fireworks. Our only true point of compatibility was… well, underneath the suits, he was built like a fitness model, and in bed, he was shockingly intense. Yet even in our most intimate moments, he strictly controlled the pace, disciplined to the point of rigidity, yet flawlessly satisfying. Thinking about the fact that we might separate one day, a strange sliver of disappointment actually pierced my chest. I hadn’t taken Sophia’s words to heart. Who could possibly be richer than Liam? The “first love” she was talking about, Julian Vance, was just a guy who pursued me back in college. He chased me, I told him I wasn’t interested, but he went around telling everyone I had said yes. When he kept harassing me, I bluntly told him I would only marry a rich man. Rumors are hard to kill, and somehow, the narrative twisted into him being my tragic first love. It was laughable. But the very next day, Julian actually contacted me. The text was cautious and restrained: “Harper, it’s Julian. Can we meet? I have something I need to tell you.” That disgusting familiarity… I didn’t reply. But it definitely caused a ripple of anxiety in my mind. Not because of love, but because he felt like a ticking time bomb. If I didn’t handle this carefully, it could become a hidden fuse in my marriage, blowing up my life the day it was triggered. I knew how lethal a media scandal about an “unforgettable old flame” could be. I wasn’t some hopeless romantic; I was entirely clear-headed. If I wanted to maintain the life I had, I couldn’t make a single mistake. Before Liam ever brought up divorce, I definitely wasn’t planning on initiating one. 07 When I showed up to the meeting, Sophia was there too. She ordered drinks, and Julian only had a few glasses. I hesitated for a moment before taking a sip. Honestly, the wine was trash. It couldn’t hold a candle to the cheapest bottle Liam kept in his cellar. I took one sip and pushed it away. Cheap liquor really is dangerous. Just that tiny sip made me dizzy, and the faces of the two people across from me started to blur into double vision. I slumped onto the table, groggily hearing them talk. “Baby, you are absolutely not allowed to touch her. We agreed, we just take the photos! Otherwise I’ll get jealous, and I won’t forgive you!” It was Sophia’s voice, pitched artificially high and nasally, like she had a cold. Who was she calling ‘baby’? Why was she using that disgusting voice? “Don’t worry babe, we’re just taking photos and recording a video. With this leverage, we’ll easily force the Carter Group into a partnership.” Julian? My foggy, heavy brain nearly short-circuited. Sophia and Julian? I blindly pressed the emergency shortcut on my phone. Just as Julian’s filthy hands were about to touch me, the bodyguards Liam had assigned to me burst into the room. “Mrs. Carter, are you alright?” The two people in front of me were immediately surrounded by security, and the restaurant was locked down. “What are you doing?! I’m Harper’s best friend! We grew up together! What are you trying to do?!” Sophia panicked. She had been to my house a few times and seen the staff, but she clearly didn’t know I traveled with a private security detail. Maybe I just never imagined that my so-called best friend would conspire with an outsider to drug and frame me. What did she even want? I didn’t understand. If she truly just wanted a business partnership, all she had to do was ask, and I would have helped her. Why go through this massive, convoluted plot to set me up?

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In the year I could barely feed myself, I picked up a battered, brilliant, and destitute boy from a filthy alleyway. His eyes were hollow. “Do whatever you want with me. I don’t care.” I didn’t do anything. I just wiped the grime off him and helped him into a crisp, dry white shirt. Stuttering, I told him earnestly, “L-live. Live well.” Years later, he got into the best university on his own and became the youngest tenured professor they’d ever had. On a typical summer night when I went to pick him up, he coldly rejected the bright, sunny girl who adored him. And for the first time, I heard him ask, his voice tight and lost: “Why don’t you like it?” I saw the expensive brooch she had given him clutched in his hand. That was when I knew I had to leave. 01 When I finished packing my bags to leave, I looked back at the cramped apartment I had lived in for years. It was narrow and suffocatingly hot. The only good thing about it was the single potted cactus on the windowsill. I bent down and straightened Holden’s slippers on the top tier of the shoe rack. Bang. The heavy metal door clicked shut, stirring up a thin layer of dust in the sunlight. 02 Before Holden left for his academic seminar, he showed me a property deed at the dining table. It was a brand-new, beautiful luxury condo right in the heart of downtown. I had no idea how long he had been saving up to buy it. He said, “I’ll pay you back, little by little.” “N-no need. To pay it back.” When I saved him, I never expected anything in return. He said coldly, “Once it’s paid, we’re even.” I silently pushed a plate of sautéed shrimp and a cold salad toward him. Holden kept his head down as he ate, but the sharp, superior lines of his profile were as striking as ever. Looking at him now, I could still catch glimpses of the teenage boy who used to stand at the debate podium, his lean, aloof silhouette cutting through the breeze. Liking someone doesn’t mean they have to know about it. There’s no rule that says every sacrifice requires a reward. From now on, he would be exactly as I had always imagined—radiant, successful, and entirely out of reach. Just having spent these years with him was enough for me. I rested my chin quietly in my hand, looking at him earnestly, and suddenly blurted out something completely unprompted: “Holden. From now on, you have to l-live well.” It’s just a pity my stutter never went away. I just hope that when I go back to my rural hometown for blind dates, the guys won’t find me too repulsive. 03 I thought back to that night. “Professor! Wait for me!” A beautiful, carefree girl waved as she ran toward him. She had been chasing Holden relentlessly for six months. I stood quietly in the shadows beneath a tree by the entrance. Just as I admired Holden, I envied her. She expressed her love boldly, like a little sun. She had a flawless, wealthy family background and a vibrant, outgoing personality. Standing together, they looked like a match made in heaven. At first, Holden had been cold and impatient, avoiding her like the plague—exactly how he treated me. But later, his defenses began to crack. She was the only one he lowered his boundaries for, allowing her to laugh and playfully touch his arm. Eventually, holding a gift she had forced into his hands, he asked me nervously: “What does it mean to like someone?” I walked beside him into the moonlight, looking down as his tall shadow overlapped and swallowed mine. What did I answer back then? I stuttered, but I was deadly serious: “To like someone probably means… when you s-see him, your heart races. And when you t-think of him, the corners of your mouth… go up.” — “So you’re the one who saved Holden? You’re such a bitch! You like him? Then we’ll let you like him all you want!” The same thugs who had brutally beaten Holden shoved my head violently into a filthy mop bucket in the school bathroom. “Liking someone makes you anxious… and overly sensitive.” — “Holden! I’m taking you to the E-ER! Don’t you dare fall asleep! You still have to r-repay me!” In the dead of winter, I screamed until my throat tore, carrying him on my back as he bled out from his slit wrists, stumbling blindly toward the hospital. “Liking someone means caring about them… wanting to share every word, every moment with them, f-first.” — “I worked five jobs and made a hundred and twenty bucks. I b-bought a cake. Happy birthday, Holden.” I stood in the entryway holding the cake box, so happy I forgot to take off my shoes, beaming at him. “Liking someone means feeling jealous, getting mad, but still feeling… s-sweet inside.” The traffic light clicked red. I looked up, and Holden happened to look right into my eyes. 04 Ding! My phone’s notification sound snapped me awake. My face felt itchy. When I touched it, my cheeks were wet with tears. The intersection of dreams and reality left me dazed for a long time before I finally unlocked my phone. It was a text from Holden. Just two words: [Home late.] Scrolling up, our chat history was incredibly sparse. Looking at it now, there really was nothing left between us. I had stuttered since childhood, so I hated speaking. And because of Holden’s personality—and what those people did to him later—he spoke even less. Usually, when we were at home, we just minded our own business in total silence. If he didn’t like me, he didn’t like me. Back then, I actually delusionally thought we could take it slow, that love would grow over time. It was time to kill that hope. Suddenly, a rapid sequence of cheerful pings chimed from my phone. [Your advice worked perfectly! He finally agreed to go to dinner with me~] [I actually thought you and he were dating. You really scared me back then.] [When the time comes, I’ll definitely bring a gift to thank you in person. Don’t worry, he absolutely won’t suffer by being with me.] She ended it with an adorable emoji swooning with happiness. Her joy was contagious; it made me curl my lips into a slight smile. I was a ghost from Holden’s past. I was the mud and the broken tiles, the witness to all his humiliation, the symbol of his darkest days. But Harper was different. She could stand tall with him. Her love was proactive and warm, and she had the resources and connections to meet him at the top of his field. Holden’s walls were crumbling. The little sun had finally melted the block of ice. I couldn’t stop him from running toward someone better than me. But the next second, a tear splattered across my screen. I belatedly raised my hand to wipe my eyes. How pathetic. I couldn’t even wipe my own tears clean. 05 After sitting on a Greyhound bus for over thirty hours, I arrived back in my rural hometown. The first thing I did was place flowers at my mother’s grave. I sat there in a daze before finally heading to the small house I had rented. The landlady told me that my deadbeat, gambling, alcoholic father had his leg broken by loan sharks and had fled town. I didn’t have much luggage. I unpacked everything in a single afternoon. Sitting on the edge of the bed and closing my eyes, I could still see Holden’s despairing, powerless eyes from back then, his body covered in sticky, vile liquid. He used to tell me calmly, “I want to die.” In a dead-end, rust-belt town, having good grades, a handsome face, and no parents was the original sin. Especially for a genius like Holden, who stood out like a sore thumb. The story was a cliché. A gang leader’s girlfriend liked him. When he rejected her, she framed him for harassment. When a group of guys cornered him in an alley, even fighting back felt like a joke. In the nights that followed, Holden’s body, curled up on the bed, would spasm and shake uncontrollably. Even his subconscious was torturing him. Back then, to support Holden through school, I worked five part-time jobs, running myself into the ground. We lived in a crappy apartment with frequent power and water outages. I ate fifty-cent pickled vegetables just to save a few dollars for him. Later, when he started getting a stipend, our lives improved a bit, but I refused to spend his money. I kept working at the diner downstairs. It seems like you’re always like that in front of someone you love. Pride dictates that, no matter what, you refuse to let yourself feel inferior. That afternoon, I found a job as a prep cook in a local diner. The pay in a small town wasn’t high, but it was enough for me. It wasn’t until after a chaotic dinner rush that I finally had time to check my phone. There were only two messages from Holden: [Where are you?] The next one was sent at 4:00 AM this morning: [You don’t want me anymore, do you?] My eyes burned reading it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him. It was that I didn’t want us to drag each other down. I saved him, and he was forced to stay by my side. That relationship dynamic was toxic to begin with. And pushing thirty, I really just wanted to settle down. Explaining all of this felt too dramatic. I typed out a lot of words, but in the end, I deleted them and just sent: [Take care of yourself.] There was no response. When I clicked his profile, I saw that Holden had posted an Instagram update. A photo of two hands, fingers intertwined. The caption was: [From now on.] It was official. Holden had a girlfriend. I stared at it for a moment, then double-tapped to like it. In my heart, I said silently: “Happy Birthday, Holden. From now on, may you and the person you love have everything you wish for.” 06 As I locked my phone and walked up to my door, my neighbor was standing in the hallway looking miserable, holding his door open to air out his apartment. A strong smell of burnt food wafted out. I recognized him. He seemed to be the new teacher who joined the local underfunded school district through Teach for America. We had briefly crossed paths when I moved in. He was polite and elegant, soft-spoken, but possessed a pair of deeply expressive, romantic eyes that didn’t quite match his mild demeanor. I felt awkward just walking past him, so as I put my key in the lock, I made polite conversation: “Haven’t eaten yet? If you want, my place…” He looked up gratefully. Before I could even finish my sentence, he said warmly, “That would be wonderful, thank you.” “…” I didn’t expect him to be so forward. I gave an awkward smile. I had no choice but to open the door and invite him in. Since I had a guest, I whipped up a few simple dishes. Carter’s reaction was incredibly exaggerated. After taking one bite, tears literally started falling from his eyes. He explained, “I’m sorry. It’s just been a very long time since I’ve had a normal, home-cooked meal. And your cooking is amazing.” “Thanks.” Thinking about the burning smell coming from his place, I ate my food in silence, just waiting for him to finish and leave. But I didn’t expect him to volunteer to wash the dishes. I frowned slightly, watching him wear my Winnie-the-Pooh apron, standing at the sink with his back to me. From the side, I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. The veins on the back of his hands were pronounced, and his broad shoulders stretched the clearly undersized apron. “…” I looked away, subconsciously swallowing hard. Maybe the room was too quiet, because the sound was distinct. Carter paused his movements, lowered his eyes, and continued washing the dishes. When he finished, he coughed softly and finally revealed his true motive: “Could I… maybe come over to eat with you from now on?” Seeing my frown, he quickly added: “I’ll pay you more than the diner does. I just need you to cook for one extra person, and I’ll do all the dishes.” I hesitated for a moment. The landlady had mentioned him to me: “That new teacher neighbor of yours? He’s already paid out of his own pocket to rescue five stray cats and help two kids afford school supplies.” How bad could a guy like that be? Besides, being all alone in this familiar yet foreign place was becoming too hard to bear. 07 From that day on, Carter came over to my place every day after work. It evolved from bringing fresh groceries every day, to bringing his pet cat over. He smiled perfectly seriously and said, “My cat can do backflips.” Meanwhile, Holden went from total radio silence to sending me a text every few days, though they were always in the dead of night. [Where’s the hand cream?] [I can’t find that white dress shirt.] [Did you take the ceramic dog we made together?] … Things like that. At first, I patiently replied: [In the TV stand drawer. In the bottom cabinet under the coat rack. That ceramic dog broke when we moved a long time ago…] [You should move into the new condo. This apartment is too far from your university, and it’s uncomfortable. Don’t make Harper suffer with you. You’re just used to having me around. Sooner or later, you have to learn to live on your own.] He would always stay silent for a while before sending back a freezing cold voice memo: [Don’t flatter yourself.] I took care of everything for him, and he completely dismissed it. Carter asked curiously, “An old friend?” Who was he? I lowered my eyes, staring blankly at the dough on the cutting board. “Just… someone who doesn’t matter anymore.” Carter looked at the lock screen photo on my phone. It was a picture of a teenage boy and girl sitting quietly side-by-side on a swing set, both with neutral expressions. It was obviously taken by a passing stranger. They weren’t close; there was even a bit of distance between them. But Carter suddenly lost all desire to ask further. Late that night, Holden FaceTimed me directly. In the video, his face was deathly pale. He was curled tightly on the sofa, his pupils slowly losing focus as he stared at the camera. I felt like I had been hit over the head with a baseball bat. I shot up from my chair, an unspeakable terror sweeping through my entire body. The fingers holding my phone were shaking violently. “Holden! What stupid thing are you t-trying to do!” His pale lips pressed together. He struggled to lift his eyelids, only for them to fall shut heavily as he finally lost all strength. The phone spun through the air, dropping. My screen was filled with nothing but blinding, piercing red! 08 What if Holden dies… What do I do if he dies? I couldn’t stop my body from shaking. I bought the fastest bus ticket back, terrified out of my mind. Just as I finished throwing my clothes into a bag, my phone rang again. I swiped open the message frantically. It was Harper. [He’s out of danger, but he’s still unconscious.] [I thought you were with him. He took a leave of absence from the university and hasn’t eaten in five days.] [I found antidepressants on his coffee table. The doctor said he had a severe depressive relapse.] [What exactly did he go through in the past…] I couldn’t read any further. I just stared at the words “severe depressive relapse” for a long time. An indescribable agony spread from my stomach to my chest. In the end, I gripped the back of the sofa, dry-heaving in sheer physiological distress. “Mom! Please! I’ll be g-good, I’ll listen! Dad is a monster, but you still have m-me!” “I’ll take you away from here, don’t jump! Please! Mom!!!” The blaring car horns, the howling wind on the rooftop, deafening. It felt like I was back in that hospital reeking of bleach. Holden had just woken up in the hospital bed. He clenched his hands in a daze, and the exertion almost tore his stitched wrists open again. They both had severe clinical depression. It turns out people who suffer find their way to each other. I knew that tying one person’s life to another was stupid. Who would care? But I had no other choice. I looked up at him, my eyes red, and said: “Holden. Just pretend you’re l-living for me. You have to repay me. Take me to see the view from the t-top.” What the hell was I doing back then! He had an infinitely bright future ahead of him. He had finally pulled himself out of the darkness. Just as he was about to reach the peak, why should his life and brilliant career be destroyed just because of a light, passing sentence I said years ago? I couldn’t save my mom. And I couldn’t save him. My dad was right. I was a jinx. Anyone who got close to me… Was doomed to suffer. 09 Without me, with Harper there, he would pull himself out of it much faster. I canceled my bus ticket. Hugging that pile of clothes, I sat quietly on the sofa, staring blankly for the entire night. It wasn’t until Harper texted me: [He’s okay now.] I finally let out a breath. Blood rushed back to my head, and I finally felt like I was alive again. I replied casually: [That’s good.] At the same time, Holden also sent a message. [You didn’t come.] Then he unsent it, and sent a new one: [I haven’t repaid you yet. We aren’t even.] I froze, an unstoppable wave of sorrow and bitterness rising in my throat. [We are even.] He replied with a question mark. Holden really had forgotten. When my dad dragged me by the hair and beat me at the school gates, everyone watched, too scared to do anything but enjoy the spectacle. I was going through puberty at the time. Imagine the humiliation. My clothes were torn, my skin exposed. My dad cursed me out in front of my teachers and classmates, calling me a “slut,” a “waste of money,” and “cheap.” The only person who stepped up was Holden. He pulled my dad off me, draped his jacket over my shoulders, and shielded me firmly behind his back. Holden was too dazzling back then—the aloof, handsome genius. Almost every girl in school had a crush on him, competing for him openly and secretly. I held back tears, looking at his thin back. Filled with self-loathing, I lowered my head, trembling all over as I gripped his jacket tightly. When you like someone that much, you’d gladly trade your own life for theirs. He was fundamentally a good person. So a good person like him didn’t deserve to fall into the mud. I wanted to lift him up, to watch with my own eyes as the god I worshipped returned to the heavens. The moon belongs beside the sun.

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Five years in Hollywood and I was still a nobody. My only option was to go home and agree to an arranged marriage with a man I’d never met. My fiancé apparently hated me. He didn’t even show up to our engagement dinner. Instead, he called me to lay down three ground rules. “Hello. I already have someone I love. You don’t need to waste your time on me.” “You are free to date whoever you want. I won’t interfere.” “This marriage is purely a business transaction. We will divorce in exactly one year. Prepare yourself mentally, and don’t come crying to me when it’s time to sign the papers.” He rattled off his demands and hung up immediately. Meanwhile, I stood at the door of his home office, lost in thought. The entire room was filled to the brim with my merchandise. 1 I changed my name and braved Hollywood for five years. Despite agencies throwing all sorts of resources my way, I just never managed to break through. I was the definition of a C-list actress. So, I had no choice but to bow my head to my parents and fulfill my end of the bargain: an arranged marriage to secure our family’s business interests. My fiancé was Carter Sterling, the cold, quiet, and ruthlessly efficient CEO of the Sterling Group. According to my friends in high society, Carter had a face so sinfully attractive he could be considered a modern-day incubus. It was easy for people to let their guard down around him, thinking he was a refined and easygoing guy. But in reality, the true Carter was cold-blooded, harsh, emotionally detached, and cared only about the bottom line. By the time my friend finished describing him, her tone had grown entirely sympathetic. “Chloe, everyone feels so sorry for you.” “Having to marry a cold-blooded monster like that.” “Who knows what kind of miserable life you’ll have to endure.” I gripped my phone tightly. After a long silence, I could only let out a helpless, bitter laugh. After hanging up, I opened my social media management app. I hit publish on the retirement statement that had been sitting in my drafts for months. 2 Even though I was practically a nobody, I still had a few die-hard fans. The moment my retirement statement went live, those familiar usernames flooded my DMs. Among the dense sea of messages, one user named “Q” stood out. I couldn’t be more familiar with this person. For the past five years, every time I posted an update, he was always the first to like and comment. He was my ultimate superfan. And because he clearly used top-tier camera equipment, every photo he took of me at public events was a high-definition masterpiece. He poured massive amounts of money into supporting me—buying billboards, organizing fan projects—so the rest of my fandom affectionately called him “Bro Q.” Clicking into his profile, his pinned post was a mega-compilation of my best video clips, along with a video of him doing a TikTok dance trend I had started. Although he never showed his face, every movement was earnest, revealing a slight, endearing clumsiness. But what made me remember him most were his comments. No flowery praise, no over-the-top confessions of love. Just one simple, almost stubborn sentence every single time: “I hope you are happy every day.” But today, he broke his usual pattern. A massive wall of text filled the chat box. He wrote about how he stumbled upon my videos during the darkest days of his life. He wrote about how a random, lighthearted comment I made helped him survive a night of terrible insomnia. He wrote about how his fingers trembled with excitement every time he saw I had updated. Finally, as if using up all his strength, he spoke with restrained yet profound sincerity: “I’m sorry, this might be a bit forward of me.” “But I still want to tell you… to me, you are a ray of light, a lifeline. You are the motivation that keeps me going.” “Knowing you these past five years has made me so incredibly happy every single day.” “Chloe, you are as important to me as my own life.” I stared at the screen, noticing several typos in a row. He must have been typing frantically, his fingers trembling so much that he couldn’t even press the keys properly as he broke down. After reading his heartfelt essay, my eyes welled up with tears. I took a moment to reply very earnestly. “Thank you for your support and love over the past five years. I hope you are happy every day too. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.” 3 After replying to all my private messages one by one, I took a deep breath, suppressed my reluctance, and prepared to deactivate my account. But suddenly, my fiancé’s name caught my eye. He was trending at #1 on X— #CarterSterlingCryingInCar Curious, I clicked on the hashtag, and a ten-second video auto-played. The dim yellow light of a streetlamp illuminated Carter’s sharp, sculpted profile. His long eyelashes were lowered, his shoulders trembling slightly, and the tear tracks on his face were clearly visible. He radiated a sense of brokenness, as if he were on the verge of despair. The replies were going crazy. “Oh my god, the Devil of Wall Street is actually crying? Did the sun rise in the west today…” “Lmao, with those pathetic noises, I thought his Maybach was haunted.” “Scary, scary. Whatever demon possessed our CEO Sterling, please get out of his body quickly…” “So what exactly could make this cold-blooded demon king shed tears?” That comment sparked a wave of speculation about why Carter was crying. Some said he was in agony over being forced into an arranged marriage. Others said the stress of running a billion-dollar empire had finally broken him. But whatever the reason, I couldn’t care less. I skimmed the comments absentmindedly and went back to coordinating my post-retirement affairs with my agent. 4 At 2:00 AM, I dragged my exhausted body home. As soon as I opened my phone, I saw that the man who had been trending all afternoon was now in my friend requests. The verification message was just two simple words: “Carter Sterling.” I hesitated for a second before clicking on his profile. His profile picture was pitch black. His bio was completely blank. His display name was just the letter “C.” Everything about his profile screamed, Stay away from me. I rubbed my throbbing temples and helplessly hit ‘Accept.’ Carter immediately sent a voice memo. His tone was freezing cold and distant. He sounded like a man dealing with a nuisance he couldn’t shake off, barely maintaining basic politeness and breeding: [Miss Vance. Hello. I am your fiancé, Carter Sterling.] I wasn’t used to sending voice memos, so I typed back: [Hello.] Carter had no intention of making small talk. He cut straight to the chase: [I already have someone I love. She is the only person I will ever love in this lifetime. Therefore, you do not need to waste your time on me after we are married.] [Our marriage is simply a transaction. I don’t mind an open marriage. You are free to find whoever you like, and I won’t interfere. Similarly, you are not to interfere in my affairs.] [Miss Vance, your father mentioned that you have a first love who currently lives out of state. I happen to travel out of state frequently for business. I wouldn’t mind bringing you along to create opportunities for you two to meet.] I was stunned. I asked in disbelief: [Are you saying you’d cover for me so I can go see my ex?] Carter: [Yes. That is exactly what I mean.] [After all, I don’t want you clinging to me. It’s best if you have someone you like. It will give me peace of mind.] […] For a moment, I didn’t know what to say: [Keep going. What else?] Carter: [Also, I want you to remember at all times that our marriage will only last for one year.] [After one year, we will get a divorce. When the time comes, do not cry and make a scene, refusing to sign the papers. It will be very embarrassing for both our families.] Me: [Okay, don’t worry about that. I won’t.] Hearing my guarantee, Carter visibly let out a sigh of relief: [Good. Miss Vance.] [I assume we don’t need to hold a wedding ceremony either. And naturally, we will not be fulfilling any marital obligations in the bedroom.] [There’s no need to make our marriage public. I don’t want too many people knowing about it. It’s better for both of us.] I didn’t have any objections to that either, so I agreed. After listing off his demands, Carter went silent for a very long time, probably worrying he had forgotten something. After a full fifteen minutes, he finally confirmed everything and sent one last message. [That will be all for now.] [Apologies, Miss Vance, but you know I am a businessman. Businessmen do not trust verbal agreements.] [Therefore, to prevent you from backing out someday in the future, I would like to draft a prenuptial agreement for both of us to sign. Is that acceptable?] [The contract will cover asset division, as well as all the terms we just discussed.] [For example, the marriage lasting only one year, the lack of marital obligations, me covering for you to see your ex, etc.] [Miss Vance, does that work for you?] Of course, I had no objections: [Yes, Mr. Sterling. Draft the contract and send it to me.] Carter was satisfied: [I will have it drafted and sent to you first thing tomorrow morning.] I thought about it and asked: [By the way, Mr. Sterling, should we meet at least once before we get our marriage license?] Carter rejected the idea outright: [There is absolutely no need for that. It’s a waste of time, and we have nothing to discuss anyway. We will see each other at City Hall in three days.] That worked perfectly for me. I nodded repeatedly: [Sounds good. See you then.] 5 Carter was so worried I would back out that he drafted the contract with terrifying efficiency. He emailed me the digital copy by 4:00 PM. But what shocked me even more was that at 6:00 AM the next day, he personally delivered a massive stack of the physical contract to my house. While he and my dad were exchanging pleasantries in the living room, my mom dragged me out of bed and shoved me into the bathroom to wash up. With a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, I hid at the corner of the second-floor stairs, observing Carter in the living room. He looked exactly as my friend had described over the phone. Carter sat upright on the leather sofa, his long legs crossed. A perfectly tailored, pitch-black suit accentuated his incredible physique. Even in such an ordinary posture, his obscenely perfect bone structure and handsome face gave off an aura of repressed, untouchable sex appeal. No wonder my dad said Carter was hand-picked—the absolute best of the best, the perfect candidate for this arranged marriage. However, at a glance, I immediately noticed the pink hair tie peeking out from under his cuff. Pink was my official fandom color. Because of that, my eyes naturally gravitated toward pink amidst any cluster of colors. But still, a top-tier CEO with a face like that, wearing a little pink hair tie on his wrist? Kind of amusing, actually. 6 While chatting with Carter, my dad kept shooting subtle glances in my direction. But Carter was like a monk in deep meditation. His eyelashes didn’t even flutter. He just watched my dad’s performance with a blank expression. He was using his actions to prove to me: he had zero interest in his fiancée, a woman he had never met who had suddenly dropped into his life. My dad gritted his teeth and finally laid his cards on the table: “Carter, why don’t you stay for breakfast? Chloe is home, you two can meet and get to know each other.” “That won’t be necessary.” Carter’s voice was deep and magnetic, carrying a cold, distant edge. “Mr. Vance, there’s no need for us to meet. After all, we’ll be forced to spend plenty of time together in the future. It’ll be hard not to see each other, won’t it?” My dad tried to say something else, but Carter cut him off coldly: “Alright, Mr. Vance. I’ll take my leave now.” With that, he turned and walked right out the door. The exact moment I finished getting ready and stepped into the living room. Carter stepped out. And casually pulled the front door shut behind him. He didn’t look up in my direction once the entire time. He might as well have tattooed “Not Interested” on the back of his head. 7 The second Carter stepped out of my house. I received a text from him. [Miss Vance, I have handed the sealed contract to your father. You may sign it after reviewing it. Once you’ve signed, I’ll send my assistant to pick it up.] I carefully read through the contract. Aside from everything we negotiated last night, there was a clear line at the very end of the document— All profits generated by our marriage alliance would be split 40/60. He would take 40%, and I would get 60%. Furthermore, once our marriage ended, I would receive a massive lump sum payout. Adding it all up, it was no small amount. It was enough to ensure I’d be set for the rest of my life. I counted the zeros. And read through the contract one more time. The resistance I initially felt toward this arranged marriage morphed into the anxiety of holding a massive fortune. I nervously texted him: [By the way, Mr. Sterling, there don’t seem to be any clauses in the contract regarding you and the person you love.] [Did you forget?] I was genuinely asking. But Carter’s reply was full of defensiveness and impatience. [Miss Vance, there’s no need to test me.] [I am well aware that women are at a disadvantage in a marriage. Therefore, for the duration of our marriage, I will not do anything that would make you a laughingstock to the public.] I paused for a moment. Even through the screen. I could perfectly picture Carter right now, frowning at his phone. His harsh mouth muttering, “How dare this woman try to manage my affairs,” out of one side. While adjusting his tone to reply to me out of the other. [And I certainly wouldn’t reduce her to being the “other woman,” not even in name only.] At this point, Carter paused. Probably because bringing up the person he loved naturally softened his tone. [I will wait until our marriage is completely finalized and terminated before I earnestly pursue her, confess to her, and be with her.] [Of course, all of this is contingent on her not finding me repulsive and not having someone else she likes.] Well, what do you know. This domineering CEO was actually quite the hopeless romantic. After Carter finished, he seemed to ponder for a moment before adding. [By the way, send me your social security number.] I was instantly on guard: [What for?] Carter: [The day after we get our marriage license, I’m going out of state for a business trip. The destination happens to be the city where your ex lives. Don’t you want to see him?] [I’ll buy your ticket while I’m at it. I’ll cover for you like the contract says. We’ll just tell our families we’re going on a honeymoon.] I hesitated. My finger hovered over the screen, unable to press send. When Carter didn’t get a reply. He began to coax me with the utmost patience. [Miss Vance, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.] [It might not work out this perfectly next time. You need to think carefully.] [If you miss this chance, who knows when you’ll be able to see him again.] I was still hesitating. After all, when we broke up years ago. I had completely blocked that man on every single platform. Carter: [I heard from your father that your breakup wasn’t exactly amicable.] [I have a friend who’s a relationship guru. He specializes in reconciling couples who had bad breakups.] [I’ll bring him along. When the time comes, he’ll definitely be able to help you two get back together.] His relentless persuasion started to sway me. I figured I could just treat it as a vacation. In the end, I sent him my ID information. [Well… alright then. Sorry for the trouble, and thank you.] [You’re very welcome.] Carter’s mood instantly brightened. Even his attitude toward me improved slightly. Yeah, just like he said, he was genuinely terrified I would cling to him.

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I had been Adrian Vance’s executive assistant for three years when he got engaged. His fiancée made him fire all his female staff who worked in close proximity to him. I was on that list. As compensation, Adrian offered to set me up with his older brother. “He’s richer than me, better at everything that matters, and he just has one kid,” Adrian told me. “If you don’t mind a ready-made family, want me to set it up?” I didn’t mind. Because I was the one who gave birth to that kid. 01 Julian Sterling and I had a past. It was a secret. Adrian had no idea. If he did, he wouldn’t be so clueless as to treat me like his personal errand girl. I was twenty-two when I was with Julian. Fresh out of college, green, and clumsy. I met him at one of Sterling Group’s port facilities. I thought he was just another struggling job seeker like me, fresh out of a failed interview. He looked a mess that day. Suit rumpled, face smudged with dust. He was sitting on a curb, eating a cheap takeout box. A thick stack of documents was sitting next to him. He looked completely down on his luck. I had just been rejected for a position and was running on pure emotional impulse. I had bought two massive, double-meat pork belly bowls from a food truck, and I handed him one. “Here, eat this,” I said. “Yours looks too pathetic. It won’t fill you up.” His box was mostly just rice and withered greens. I sat down five feet away from him, feeling sorry for myself. I was busy fantasizing about how miserable my life would be if I didn’t find a job soon. Would I end up sitting on a curb, getting fed by strangers? I was so lost in my pity party that I missed Julian’s expression. It went from bewildered to incredulous, and finally, to genuinely amused. Over that lunch, we briefly talked about our “struggles.” We exchanged names. It was the beginning of a massive mistake. I had assumed his background was as ordinary as mine. And Julian was perfectly happy to play the role of an ordinary guy. I started running into him everywhere after that. Every time, it felt like a coincidence. Even when he asked me out, I thought it was fate. Until the cliché, melodramatic plot twist happened. I was at a high-end luxury mall, picking out a corporate gift for a major client on behalf of my boss. I saw Julian. He was dropping thousands without blinking. Hands casually in his pockets. Shoulders leaning back with lazy arrogance. Tapping his foot. He looked impatient, but he was still forcing himself to play along, offering opinions to the girl next to him. When she finally picked a style she liked, he gave a relieved wave to the clerk to put it on his tab. Only the night before, he had been wrapped around me in my tiny rented apartment, asking me to give him a head rub. Listening to me complain about Adrian’s demands and work stress. I thought about it for a long time. I weighed my options: continue the charade of our relationship, or demand a massive payoff to disappear. I didn’t choose either. I chose the stupidest option. I confronted him, and I didn’t ask for a dime. He wasn’t surprised. He admitted who he was, cleanly and efficiently. Then he opened his mouth and said he wanted to take me home to meet his family. To his estate. That place was worth more than I could earn in fifty lifetimes. I saw tons of files in his study. As it turned out, he took his role as the Sterling heir very seriously. That day we met at the port, he wasn’t looking for a job. He was inspecting a Sterling key project that was having major issues. In the blistering summer heat, he had gone to the site with a team of engineers, blueprints in hand. He was there to personally diagnose the problem. Change plans, coordinate resources. A recording secretary had written that thick stack of “documents”—meeting minutes. Nobody expected the CEO to actually show up on the dusty ground. So, nobody had arranged a fancy lunch for him. When lunchtime hit, he just grabbed the minutes, sat on the curb, and reviewed them while eating a generic lunchbox, waiting for a final report from a subordinate. And that’s when I ran into him. I could have kicked myself for being so blind. How did I not notice the price tag on his watch, or how perfectly tailored his suit was? He asked me if we absolutely had to break up. He said loving someone was all the same; the most important things were shared interests and assets. I was twenty-four, far too young. Young enough to believe that love couldn’t tolerate a grain of sand, let alone a lie that big. “It’s not the same,” I told him. “We are not the same.” I didn’t cry, and I didn’t make a grand exit. I got in a cab and left, feeling as numb as someone who had just been laid off. But life never goes as planned. Only a month later, I realized just how important money was. A month later, my period didn’t show up. I was pregnant. And my company was doing a massive round of layoffs, targeting pregnant women specifically. The boss made it clear: Pay them the severance and get them out. Let those pregnant women go home and tend to their babies. If this kept up, he wouldn’t be hiring women anymore. Before my belly started to show, I immediately pledged my undying loyalty to the company. I promised I wouldn’t let my “health issues” affect the project. Then, I requested three days off for the procedure. The boss was satisfied and held me up as a model employee. Looking in the mirror, I felt like a corporate slave, not a human being. My colleagues whispered behind my back, and I had no defense. I scheduled the abortion and went to the hospital. But I was stopped in the parking lot by Julian’s security team. Julian was out of the country. He took a private jet back that night, landing in six hours. He told me to keep the baby. The terms he offered were generous. I agreed. To prevent developing a maternal bond, I never looked at the baby girl once after she was born. Julian took her away and named her Cora. Cora, the maiden. A precious pearl. I figured Julian must love her. Which meant I didn’t need to worry about her. I left Seattle and moved south to Atlanta. 02 Turns out, I couldn’t escape the Sterling family. Julian’s younger brother, Adrian, was running the southern branch of the company. I was mass-applying for jobs. I didn’t even realize I had applied to be Adrian Sterling’s assistant. The interview process was suspiciously smooth. Before I knew it, I was Adrian Vance’s executive assistant. I was responsible for scheduling and day-to-day logistics. Occasionally getting him coffee. When the chief of staff was away, I would handle heavy-hitter clients. For the most part, I didn’t have to travel with him. Overall, the work was administrative but not too grueling. The pay was excellent. Combined with the money Julian had given me, I had already bought a nice condo. With this job, I could have had a stable, peaceful life. But that was shattered by Adrian’s fiancée. “Elena? Elena?” Adrian tapped his desk. “Surely it doesn’t take this long to think about it. Why the hesitation? You don’t like the sound of him?” He was smiling, but there was a hint of irritation in his voice. I finished organizing his schedule and pushed the planner toward him. “From eleven to eleven-thirty, you have a briefing. At noon, you have lunch with Junior Li. His family just had some good news, so I’ve prepared a gift for you to take. From two to four PM,靳Mr. Jin wants to golf, but Mr. Kent wants to go riding at the same time. Schedules conflict; you need to decide which to cancel. At five, a client tour of the R&D center, then signing the contract, followed by dinner at the Estate. The menu is set—Cantonese style. It is currently ten-forty-three. Junior Li mentioned several VPs want to brief you early, so you can talk to them now.” I paused for a few seconds, then spoke again. “As for the blind date with your brother, I’m going to have to pass.” Adrian leaned back in his executive chair. He tapped his foot, spinning the chair slightly. He stared at me for a long moment, looking thoughtful. “Hmm.” He had a half-smile on his face. “Elena, are you hiding something from me?” I said, “I know your brother.” To say we “dated” felt too heavy. No family or friends knew; it didn’t feel like a real relationship. “Oh, you know him?” He nodded. His foot suddenly stopped tapping. He studied my expression, took a breath, and spoke with certainty. “No way. No way. You were with my brother, weren’t you?” Even though I was used to the casual contempt of the upper class. Hearing him use the phrase “were with” still stung. I managed to say, “Yes.” He immediately jumped up, smiling as he ushered me over to the sofa. He was suddenly all attention, even pouring me a cup of tea. “Come on, you have to know who gave birth to his daughter, right?” “None of us brothers could ever get it out of him.” “He hates kids, so he must have really loved that woman to keep the baby.” “Since you guys were together, spill. Who was the one he spoiled the most?” Who was it? Was it that girl he was willing to take shopping? Or maybe, that was just another woman in his life. I tightened my lips. “I don’t know who he liked the most, but it wasn’t me.” Adrian let out a laugh. “A lot of resentment there, huh? My brother shouldn’t be stingy, though.” “Maybe he is stingy with some people. When I was with him, I lived in a crappy rented apartment.” Adrian’s expression froze for a few seconds. His jaw literally dropped in disbelief. “You lived where?” He repeated. “You lived in a crappy rented apartment? He let you live in a place like that?” I gave a silent, bitter smile. “Not really. I rented it myself. He didn’t live with me.” “Holy shit. He wouldn’t even cover your rent? That’s low.” Adrian smoothed his jacket, got up, and started pacing. He kept glancing at me. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the romantic type, Elena… with your looks, asking for a condo wouldn’t have been too much. Why didn’t you think to take him for all he was worth?” He was appraising me, calculating my value. If this had been the old me, I would have cursed him out. I adjusted my expression, lowering my posture. “I was young and naive.” I cracked a weak joke. “Considering that, maybe increase my severance package a bit?” There was a knock on the door. An employee poked their head in. “Mr. Sterling, the meeting is starting.” Adrian nodded, adjusting his collar. I stepped forward quickly to hold the door for him. He grabbed his folder, ignoring me as he walked past. “You’re not being fired. Go back to work.” 03 Too bad. I was hoping to cash out and leave. Now I’d have to resign. Adrian’s fiancée was quite famous around the office lately. Word was she was the granddaughter of a very prominent DC politician, and her parents were loaded, too. She had a serious pedigree, and a serious temper to match. After the engagement, she demanded Adrian fire all his close female staffers. Adrian had two chief secretaries. One male, one female—his right-hand people. The female chief was highly capable, so Adrian protected her job. But someone like me, the base-level executive assistant, wasn’t so lucky. Even if I wasn’t fired, staying wouldn’t be pretty. Who knew when the wife would start suspecting me. I went back to my office. I ran into colleagues from other departments coming to the assistant’s pool for stamps. When they saw me return, they all shot me sympathetic looks. “Elena, when are you leaving? Let’s get dinner before you go.” I pulled out my chair and slumped over my desk. “Earliest next month. The HR process takes time.” “HR process? For a firing, you don’t need to wait, do you?” “I’m resigning,” I said. “Mr. Sterling doesn’t plan on firing me. Does anyone have a resignation letter template I can borrow?” Thank you for the opportunity to grow with the company… Due to personal reasons… I have decided to resign. I clicked ‘send’ on the resignation email. I pushed back from my keyboard and exhaled deeply. Then I remembered Adrian’s offhand comment. He must have really loved that woman to keep the baby. I didn’t know what Julian’s feelings for me actually were. Back when I worked in DC. I lived in a standard entry-level apartment complex for young professionals. It was crowded, a real mix of people. I experienced my first stalker there. And then, my first attempted break-in. I was a light sleeper that night. My phone buzzing woke me up. The peephole camera app was alerting me. Someone was loitering outside my door. The man in the video was masked, wearing a hat and gloves. I couldn’t see his face, and his bulky work clothes hid his build. He was professional and efficient at picking locks. Every now and then, he’d glance back and murmur something to an accomplice behind him. I froze in the living room for a few seconds, then instinctively ran to the kitchen for a knife. I hid back in my bedroom, staring at the camera feed, trembling as I finally called 911. Then I called Julian. His voice was raspy, heavy with sleep. “What is it?” I said, “Someone is picking my lock.” There was a dead silence on the other end for one second. Then I heard the rustle of him sitting up and grabbing clothes. He sounded completely awake now. He asked me, “How many are outside? Are they armed?” “I only saw two… I didn’t see any knives. I don’t know if they have anything on them.” His voice calmed down. “Don’t cry. Get in your room and lock the door.” The camera feed suddenly went black. The front door clicked open. Footsteps entered the living room, getting closer. The thief started pushing against the bedroom door. I gripped the knife, wondering if I should rush out and attack first. The adrenaline made it hard to stand. I was gripping the handle so hard my hand felt numb, like I wouldn’t be able to swing it. Suddenly, things got chaotic outside the door. A few muffled thuds. Cursing mixed with screams of pain. The sound of shattering glass, things hitting the floor. Crashes. “Julian?” “It’s me,” he said, his voice muffled and slightly winded. “Don’t come out yet. It’ll just be a minute.” I was wiping sweat off my face. My legs gave out, and I slumped onto the edge of the bed. Until there was a knock on the door. I dragged the heavy furniture I used to block the door away. The living room was a wreck. The thieves were barely alive on the floor. Someone was dragging one of them by the ankle, like a dead animal, out of the apartment. Julian wiped blood off his knuckles and pulled me close. His overcoat was freezing, but a warm scent of rich tobacco radiated from his skin, warmed by his body. He held me very tightly. He looked down and kissed the top of my head. The men with Julian coughed politely. “Mr. Sterling… what do we do with them?” “Check if they have priors. Send them away for a long time.” Julian was running his hand over the back of my head, his voice calm. Buried in his shoulder, I murmured. “Are they your friends? It’s so late… I should treat them to dinner sometime.” “It’s fine,” he said. “Go rest. I’m staying with you tonight.” The police arrived. Julian lit a cigarette, ushering me back to the bedroom. The low murmur of conversation didn’t last long. He climbed into bed, pulling me securely into his arms from behind. I was still shaking. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “It won’t happen again.” I turned around, kissing him frantically. Julian froze for a moment. He was usually very direct in bed. I was used to him unbuckling his belt, pressing the back of my neck, and getting straight to it. That night, he was surprisingly gentle. He just caught my hands and wrapped them around his neck. He rolled on top of me, kissing me back. The late autumn wind was howling outside. His body was burning hot. When he cupped my face with his palms, I truly felt loved. But past events are like sugarcane pulp that’s been chewed too many times. Back at the Sterling estate, talking about “interests,” I realized I couldn’t delude myself with that tiny bit of sweetness anymore. He loved me the way one loves a pretty pet. He might not be paying attention to it, but he wouldn’t let anyone else touch it. That was all. Work was done. It was Friday. My resignation email had been sent. Earliest I’d get a reply would be Monday. I packed up my desk, slowly erasing my presence. I didn’t expect it. Julian called me on Sunday night. He must have just gotten off a plane; the background noise was a bit loud. “Elena, what’s the ‘personal reasons’ you cited in your resignation?” “Mr. Sterling, I’m twenty-nine. It’s time I started a family.” He was silent for a few seconds. “You’re not quitting just because you’re afraid I’ll set you up with my brother, are you? Don’t overthink it.” “No,” I said. “I found a good match on a dating app. I was planning to quit around this time anyway.” “What’s his background?” “Ordinary. Professor at a local college.” “I see. Fine. Work hard for the next thirty days. I’ll give you a bonus as a wedding gift.” “Thank you, Mr. Sterling.” “One more thing.” He said. “Pick out some gifts that a little girl would like. Next Friday, you’re coming with me to DC.” A little girl. I was stunned for a moment. “…Yes, Mr. Sterling.”

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So, when he turned 28, I was already 33. He used to tell me that age would never be an issue between us. But later, he told his childhood best friend: “I don’t know what it is, man. But once Sarah crossed 30, I just felt she was… kind of dirty.” Then, he found a mistress. She looked a bit like me. He gave me his love, and gave her his sex. He thought he had the perfect, flawless setup. Until I handed him the divorce papers. I smiled and told him, “Actually, there’s one huge perk to dating and marrying an older woman. And that is, an older woman knows how to play the game—and she knows how to take a loss!” 01 A woman’s sixth sense is terrifyingly sharp when it needs to be. While Caleb Wright was taking a shower, a call came through on his phone. It was a local number, no caller ID. I answered it. I said “Hello” twice, and asked “Who is this?” The person on the other end didn’t make a sound and hung up immediately. Those few seconds of silence felt like a mutual understanding. The other person knew who I was. And I realized that something was very wrong. So, I unlocked Caleb’s phone. Using that phone number, I tracked down her profile on his social media apps. It was a young girl with a soft, cute anime profile picture. Her nickname was “Sweetheart,” there was no saved contact name, and her notifications were set to mute. Their chat history was completely clean. Except for one unread message: [I miss you.] Just those three words made my heart violently clench. I figured, there was a massive chance Caleb was cheating on me. My hand holding the phone suddenly felt weak and shaky. I clicked into the girl’s feed. Her cover photo was a selfie—messy bun, duck lips, radiating youthful energy. She was undeniably pretty. I didn’t look too closely. I just pulled out my own phone and took a picture of the screen. She didn’t have many posts. I scrolled through quickly and froze on one of them. She wrote: [I told you I only wanted $143! Not a penny more!] Below it was a screenshot. A screenshot of her Venmo history with Caleb. Her note for him: Princess Feeder. She asked Caleb: [Where’s my $143?] Caleb transferred her $2,000. She didn’t accept it. She sent it right back. [I only want $143!] Caleb replied with a string of ellipses, but eventually sent her the exact amount she asked for. She replied: [Do you know what 143 means? It means ‘I love you’—I want to be with you forever!] My face was totally blank. I took a picture of it all for my records. After exiting the girl’s feed, I opened Caleb’s bank and Venmo apps. I checked every single transaction between them. One after another, scrolling down, there was seemingly no end to it. The most consistent ones were the massive $5,000 transfers at the beginning of every month. That had been going on for three months. Besides that, there were hundreds of random transfers. A thousand here, two thousand there, a hundred, two hundred. Countless. Including the special numbers: $143, $520, $1314. I photographed every single transaction. Throughout the entire process, I was dead calm. I was even calm enough to mark their chat as “unread” before I put the phone down. 02 “What’s wrong? Why are you zoning out?” Caleb walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, looking at me with confusion. I snapped back to reality. I looked up at him. He was only wearing a towel. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, eight-pack abs. Caleb had always kept himself in incredible shape. People used to envy me: “With a guy who looks like that, as long as he isn’t out committing murder or arson, what can’t you forgive? Plus, he’s so devoted to you!” I used to think Caleb was devoted to me, too. But looking at it now, that was just my own delusion. “Nothing. Someone just called your phone, didn’t say a word, and hung up. Do you want to check it?” “Probably just a spam call. Ignore it.” Caleb’s expression was completely natural as he took the phone. He threw his damp towel into the hamper and grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand. “I’m gonna go smoke on the balcony.” Because I hated the smell of smoke, Caleb always went out to the balcony. Turns out, he wasn’t really going out there to smoke. A moment later, he walked back in. He started changing his clothes while talking to me. “Babe, I gotta head out for a bit. It’s an emergency, don’t wait up for me.” “What happened?” “The machines over at Greg’s shop are acting up. I don’t know if the guy’s just cursed or what. They were totally fine during calibration, but the screens keep glitching out on him. I need to go take a look. If it gets too late, I’ll just crash there.” “Is Liam going with you?” “Yeah!” It sounded so real. He had facts, he had a timeline, he even had a witness. I nodded. “Drive safe.” 03 Caleb left in a hurry. I stared at our framed wedding photo on the wall for a long time. I just couldn’t understand. Why? Why would Caleb cheat? And that girl. Who was she? Her face, her financial dynamic with Caleb, her social media posts… Everything flashed through my mind, piece by piece. Suddenly, I caught something. I scrambled for my phone. That girl. I had seen her before. 04 It was about six months ago. Caleb had been taken to the police precinct for getting into a bar brawl. I went to bail him out. He was mostly fine, just a scrape on his cheekbone. But his mood was awful. His eyes were vicious, his whole body radiating hostility. Aside from his teenage years, I hadn’t seen Caleb like that in a very long time. He had beaten the other guy to a bloody pulp. He clearly hadn’t held back. The other guy was screaming for an apology and compensation. Caleb just sneered. If I hadn’t been holding him back, he would have lunged at the guy again. After the paperwork was finally sorted, I led him out. A girl wearing an apron from a local diner rushed up to us. She thanked Caleb profusely: “Sir, if I hadn’t run into you today, I really don’t know what would have happened. Seriously, thank you so much!” I paused and looked at Caleb. He looked completely impatient. “I suggest you get a new job.” The girl looked distressed. “If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t be…” Caleb’s expression grew even more irritated. He cut her off roughly. “Not my problem. Do whatever you want!” Maya Davis had come with me that day. As Caleb shook the girl off and stormed ahead, Maya pulled my arm: “Don’t you think that girl looks a little bit like you?” I laughed it off, thinking she was overthinking it. But I couldn’t help glancing back at the girl one more time. The image in my memory merged perfectly with the photo on the phone. It was her. 05 Caleb didn’t come home that night. He finally walked in the following evening. He brought me takeout from my favorite Mexican spot. “It’s from that place you love. I waited in line forever. You eat first, I’m gonna hit the shower!” “Okay!” Caleb went into the bathroom. I grabbed my spare keys, carried the takeout bag, and headed straight to the underground garage. His car had been washed. It was spotless. The passenger seat was adjusted to the position I usually kept it in. There seemed to be absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. But none of that was what I was there for. I wanted the dashcam footage. I pulled the memory card and reviewed all the footage from yesterday to today. Caleb drove to the south side of the city. He called the girl and said two words: “Come down!” The girl practically skipped as she hopped into the passenger seat. The sound of kissing. Heavy breathing. “Did you touch that old woman?” “Shut up!” “Did you or not?” Caleb’s voice was hoarse, thick with lust. “What do you think?” The girl sounded smug: “You’re all mine!” “Don’t go begging for mercy later!” The speed of the car perfectly illustrated the driver’s urgency. The car finally parked at an apartment complex near the local college. The next time the camera recorded video, it was 10:00 AM the following day. Only Caleb was in the car. The video played quietly. I sat in the car, my entire body stiff. My muscles were so tense they ached. I reached out to turn off the screen, but a phone rang through the audio. It was Liam Carter, Caleb’s best friend. “Where are you man? Why aren’t you here yet?” “On my way!” “Tsk. Being this late isn’t your style. Don’t tell me you were with your little Sweetheart again.” Caleb just hummed in agreement. Liam sounded somewhat speechless: “No way, man. The frequency of this is way too high. Are you falling for her?” Caleb chuckled lightly. “What’s real? What’s fake?” “Cut the crap! I thought you were just playing around. How did this turn into a long-term thing? Weren’t you so madly in love with Sarah you’d die for her? Why the sudden cheating?” That question seemed to stump Caleb. After a long pause, he finally spoke: “Sarah is 33.” “And?” “I don’t know why, man. But once she crossed thirty, I just felt she was… kind of dirty.” 06 How long had it been since Caleb touched me? I smoked a cigarette while thinking about it. It felt like it started right around six months ago. During that time, work had gotten crazy. I was pushing for a promotion, pulling all-nighters, working back-to-back shifts. Every day I came home, all I wanted to do was sleep. Caleb would wrap his arms around me, trying to kiss me. I pushed him away. “Stop, I’m too exhausted. Next time!” The first time, Caleb didn’t mind. He even felt bad for me. The second time, he wasn’t happy, but he kept his temper in check. The third time, he got mad and slammed the door as he left. I had to track him down at a bar later that night. I realized I was handling things poorly. So I wrapped my arms around his neck and accepted his aggressive kisses. That time wasn’t beautiful. It actually hurt. Caleb noticed, and finished quickly. That night, he turned his back to me. It was the first time he hadn’t rolled over to hold me. I felt helpless. I didn’t know how to fix it, and I didn’t know how to coax him back into a good mood. But he managed to fix his own mood before I could. He said it was his fault. He said he was being too impatient. “Don’t overthink it, and don’t take it to heart. Once you’re done with this busy period, let’s take a vacation!” I thought the issue was resolved. He was still good to me. Even though he no longer held me when we slept, even though we hadn’t been intimate in six months. He was still good to me. But now he was saying that he thought I was dirty. That word. From the moment I heard it until now, just thinking about it sent chills deep into my bones. My hand holding the cigarette hadn’t stopped shaking. The ash fell onto my hand, burning my skin. But it was nothing compared to the damage that one word had done to me. 07 Caleb called me, asking where I was and why I wasn’t back yet. I told him I went downstairs to throw out the trash and would be right up. He just said, “Okay.” “I’m gonna go to sleep then!” By the time I got upstairs, Caleb was already fast asleep. He was facing the left, clinging to the edge of the bed, leaving more than half the mattress empty for me. I didn’t get under the covers. I just sat on the edge of the bed. I stared at his back all night. The year I met him, he was eighteen. He had just been accepted to a college in this city. The rebellious teenager had applied to a school behind his parents’ backs, grabbed his acceptance letter, and ran. He didn’t even pack luggage, just a backpack. His older brother, Ethan Wright, was worried about him. Ethan asked for a favor and had me pick him up at the bus station. “He has no money on him, and the dorms aren’t open yet. Let him crash at your place for a bit. The kid is stubborn as hell. If he says or does anything to piss you off, just smack him!” I thought Ethan was insane. Even if he was just a kid, there was no way I was letting him live with me. I was fully prepared to just rent him a hotel room. But he looked so pathetic. And so obedient. When I got to the station, he was squatting under a big tree, hugging his backpack like an abandoned puppy. He quietly followed me back to my apartment. Before I could even tell him he needed to stay somewhere else, he grabbed my sleeve and started playing the pity card. “Sarah, I’ll be so good. I’ll cook for you, I’ll clean the apartment. Please don’t kick me out!” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I thought he was just sweet-talking me. But he actually cooked for me every single day. He even rode his little electric scooter to pick me up from work. Because of him, my lonely, quiet apartment finally felt alive. The daily grind suddenly didn’t feel so exhausting anymore. We lived under the same roof for a month. Eventually, I helped him buy his dorm supplies and moved him onto campus. At first, I thought it was just a fleeting moment in time. But later he told me, he only applied to that university because of me. He said he saw me once when he was sixteen. And from then on, I was the only thing he looked forward to. This man—back when he was still just a boy—offered me his entire, unblemished heart. I fell for it. But now, he wanted it back. So I had to pull myself out of the mud, as fast as I could.

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A female employee from our external vendor made a massive error on a project proposal in our shared Slack channel. I planned to send her a direct message to kindly give her a heads-up. I sent her a message request, but she ignored it twice. She even changed her profile picture to a matching couple’s photo. My assistant showed me the chat logs from their private company channel. She was bragging to everyone that I was aggressively pursuing her. “I’ve dropped enough hints, but he just won’t let it go. He really needs to look in the mirror and see what a creep he is.” “I literally have a boyfriend. How can he be this desperate? It’s so gross.” “That toad probably had a breakdown last night and didn’t dare reply. He must feel so insecure now, right?” 1. Our company was working on a major project, an eighty-million-dollar deal. Although Manager Hayes was the lead, I was also in the main project Slack channel keeping an eye on things. There were over a hundred people in that channel, an absolute chaotic mess. The vendor was a young creative agency called Vanguard Creatives. A woman named Jessica from their project team dropped a file into the channel. I opened it and gave it a quick scan. The units for the material data were completely wrong. She had written “kilograms” instead of “tons.” The decimal point needed to be moved over three places. It was an easy fix. But if nobody noticed, and the procurement, construction, and cost accounting teams proceeded with those incorrect numbers downstream, it would be an absolute disaster. Vanguard generally had a good reputation and was usually quite responsible. Everyone makes a slip of the finger sometimes. I felt a bit of sympathy. I found Jessica’s profile in the project channel, clicked on it, and sent a direct message request. A day passed. My request vanished into the void. Manager Hayes was the public-facing lead for this project. I didn’t want to step on his toes or seem disrespectful to his authority. So, I hadn’t revealed my actual title in the channel. My display name was just my real name: Michael Thorne. I clicked on Jessica’s profile again and sent another message request. This time, I specifically added a note: “Work-related communication. Need to verify some data in the file.” That should be clear enough, right? Another day passed. Still nothing. I tapped on her profile again. Her profile picture had changed. Yesterday, it was a cartoon girl holding a coffee cup. Today, it had been swapped out for a matching couple’s avatar. It was a little boy and girl, wearing matching goofy striped shirts, with a giant red heart in the background. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be… Does this person think I’m messaging her on a professional app to hit on her? And she specifically rushed to change her profile picture to a couple’s photo just to mark her territory? I shook my head, throwing the thought out of my mind. No way. A normal person’s brain doesn’t work in such a bizarre way. It must be a coincidence. She just happened to change her picture. My assistant, Sam, knocked on my door and walked in. He had a weird look on his face. “Mr. Thorne…” Sam held his phone screen out to me. It was a screenshot of a Slack channel. Looking at the channel name, “#Vanguard-Watercooler,” I guessed it was a private channel set up by the vendor’s employees just to spill tea. The chat was blowing up. An ID named “Jessica (Design Dept Demon Boss),” whose avatar was the exact same matching couple’s photo, was extremely active in the chat. “LMAO, that Michael guy from the client’s side tried to message me again. This time he pretended it was for ‘work-related communication’.” “Ugh, men are so transparent. I can smell his desperation through the screen.” “I think I dropped enough hints, right? I literally put up a couple’s profile pic, and he still won’t let it go. How obsessed with me is he?” “I have a boyfriend, and he’s still acting this desperate. Total creepy, entitled male behavior!” 2. Below her message was a pile of people chiming in. “Hahaha, Jessica’s charm is irresistible!” “Seriously. He needs to take a good look in the mirror.” “A toad trying to punch way above his weight.” Sam scrolled his finger quickly down the screen. There was more. “Jessica’s boyfriend is so hot. He leaves that toad in the dust.” “Right, right?! Handsome and so sweet!” “Of course! My man just bought me the newest designer bag yesterday!” It was that “Jessica (Design Dept Demon Boss)” again. “Some people can probably only drool over my profile picture, hehe.” Sam coughed awkwardly. “Mr. Thorne, I think she really doesn’t know who you are and totally misunderstood.” I looked at the blindingly arrogant words on the screen and spoke. “Tomorrow afternoon, set up a meeting with CEO Mercer from Vanguard. Manager Hayes and I are going.” Sam nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Thorne. I’ll arrange it immediately.” He practically sprinted out of my office, phone in hand. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers unconsciously tapping the desk. Interesting. I’ve lived this long, and nobody has ever laughed at me for being a “toad” before. Not long after Sam left, my phone screen lit up on my desk. A notification popped up: “Jessica (Design Dept) has accepted your message request.” Now she accepts it? I looked at that matching couple’s profile picture and let out a cold laugh. I didn’t send a message. I didn’t want to say a single word to her. Talking to someone whose brain operated on such a bizarre frequency was a waste of breath. If I wasn’t careful, it would just become new material for her “harassment” claims. My phone buzzed again. It was a message from her. “Mr. Thorne, hello. First of all, thank you for your admiration.” “But I must formally state: Between us, aside from necessary project-related communication, there will be absolutely nothing else.” “Please ensure you keep your distance from me. This is not only a matter of basic respect for me as a person, but also respect for my boyfriend.” “Emotional boundaries are necessary. I hope you understand and act accordingly.” “Secondly, I am officially being promoted to Project Lead in the Design Department tomorrow.” “I love my work and will be pouring all my energy into it.” “I simply do not have the extra time or energy to deal with unnecessary personal entanglements.” “I’ve said all I need to say. I hope you have some self-respect. – Jessica.” I stared at this massive, righteous, logic-defying “declaration.” My finger hovered over the keyboard. I typed something, deleted it, typed something else, deleted it again. In the end, I didn’t reply with a single word. Reason with her? That would just be asking for a headache. I simply put my phone face down on the desk. Out of sight, out of mind. 3. The next afternoon, Manager Hayes and I arrived right on time outside the Vanguard Creatives building. The vendor’s CEO, Robert Mercer, was indeed waiting by the main lobby entrance with several of his people. As soon as the car stopped, Robert jogged over, his face plastered with an enthusiastic yet slightly nervous smile. “Ah, Mr. Thorne! Manager Hayes! Welcome, welcome! It’s an honor to have you here. You grace our humble office!” He personally opened the car door for me, his posture incredibly deferential. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Robert led us toward the elevators. “The conference room is all set up. Right this way, gentlemen.” The elevator took us straight to the fifth floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I could faintly hear a burst of giggling and chatting. It was a group of women’s voices coming from the large conference room at the end of the hall. Chirping away. Robert’s face changed slightly, and he quickened his pace. “These guys. I told them we had important clients coming today.” He muttered under his breath, turning back to give us an apologetic smile. “I’ll have them quiet down immediately.” We reached the conference room. The heavy frosted glass door was closed. The laughter inside was even clearer now. Completely unrestrained. “Haha, Jessica, what happened next? Did that Michael guy reply to you?” An excited female voice asked. My heart sank a little. It was Jessica’s voice next, carrying an undisguised tone of mockery. “Reply? Do you think he’d dare?” “He probably saw my message and completely broke down.” “From last night until now, not a single peep out of him.” “Tsk, I’ve seen so many guys like him. Once I called out his dirty little thoughts, he probably felt so ashamed of himself.” “What a coward!” The room erupted in laughter. “Hahaha, a coward! Jessica, that description is too perfect!” “Right, right?! He doesn’t even know his place, and he dares to hit on Jessica?” “Our Jessica is about to become a Project Lead!” “Exactly, our Jessica is so capable.” “Beautiful, capable, and her boyfriend is so handsome and spoils her so much.” “Some toad could never even compare to one of her boyfriend’s fingers!” Jessica’s voice carried a hint of smug “humility.” “Oh, stop it. My boyfriend is just okay, I guess.” “Yesterday he insisted on taking me to that Michelin-star French place that costs two grand a head. It was so overwhelming.” “I told him we could just eat anywhere, but he wouldn’t listen.” “Oh, right. He also said that once I officially get promoted to Lead, he’s taking me on a trip to Europe to celebrate.” “It’s so annoying. Who has the time? Ugh, he’s such a pain!” Robert Mercer’s face was completely black. His forehead was covered in sweat. He raised his hand to push the door open. I stopped him, signaling him to stay quiet. Manager Hayes stood next to me, his expression also looking a bit stiff. Robert looked at my ice-cold profile. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t dare breathe too loudly. 4. I gave Robert a slight nod, signaling him to go ahead. Robert looked like he had just received a royal pardon. He took a sharp breath and violently shoved open the heavy glass conference room door. BANG. The door slammed against the wall, making a massive racket. The conference room instantly went dead silent. Inside sat three or four young women, gathered around the conference table. Several half-empty iced coffees were scattered across the table. Jessica was sitting next to the head seat, legs crossed, holding a Starbucks cup. She was wearing fairly heavy makeup today and a rather form-fitting dress. The smug, animated look on her face instantly switched to a standard, sycophantic corporate fake smile the moment she saw Robert. “Mr. Mercer!” She was the first to stand up, her voice sickeningly sweet. The other women also scrambled to stand up, plastering smiles on their faces. “Hello, Mr. Mercer.” “Mr. Mercer, you’re here.” Robert’s face was livid. He glared fiercely at Jessica and the others, then stepped aside. “Mr. Thorne, Manager Hayes. Please come in, please.” He forced a smile, gesturing for us to enter. Manager Hayes and I walked in. Jessica’s gaze swept over Manager Hayes, carrying a familiar respect. Then her eyes landed on my face, and the warmth in her eyes visibly plummeted. Manager Hayes coughed, trying to ease the tension. “Mr. Mercer, this is?” I cut him off directly, looking calmly at Jessica. “Hello. I’m Michael Thorne.” I stated my name, my voice not loud. But in the excessively quiet conference room, it was exceptionally clear. The smile on Jessica’s face froze for a second. A flash of shock quickly darted across her eyes. She seemed to think the name sounded familiar. But that brief shock was quickly replaced by a much stronger sense of impatience and disdain. She looked me up and down. Her gaze was like she was evaluating a cheap, defective product. The corners of her mouth curled into a mocking sneer. “Oh?” She dragged out the syllable. “So it’s you, Mr. Michael Thorne.” “Tsk, tsk. You really don’t know when to quit, do you? Are you that desperate?” “You actually chased me all the way to my company, right behind our CEO?” “What, did I bruise your ego when I called you out last night? So you came here today to corner me?” She let out a scoff. “Was my message yesterday not clear enough? Do I really have to repeat it in front of all these people to get it through your thick skull?” “I told you to keep your distance!” “Do you not understand English?” The air was dead silent. The other women’s eyes darted back and forth between me and Jessica, filled with the excitement of watching a trainwreck. Robert’s lips were trembling. “Jessica, shut your damn mouth!” “Mr. Mercer!” Jessica suddenly raised her voice, cutting Robert off, wearing an expression of someone who had suffered the world’s greatest injustice. She pointed her finger at me, almost jabbing it into my face. “Look at him! I was trying to be nice yesterday. I gave him enough face on Slack, hoping he’d take the hint and back off.” “But what does he do? He actually follows me to the office today to harass me.” “Is there no law? Is there no justice?” “Mr. Mercer, you have to do something about this, otherwise I can’t work in peace!” Her voice carried a dramatic sob. Her acting skills were practically Oscar-worthy. 5. Robert’s face was now as white as a sheet. Cold sweat was pouring down his face. I raised my hand and gently batted away the finger that was about to poke me in the eye. “Everyone out.” I glanced at the other women. Robert immediately acted like he had received a divine command, roaring at the women who were watching the show. “Did you hear him?! Get out, immediately! Right now!” The women flinched in terror. They quickly grabbed their drinks and phones, kept their heads down, and scurried out, hugging the walls. As they passed me, their eyes were filled with undisguised disdain and schadenfreude. They definitely thought I was sending everyone away to create an opportunity to be “alone” with Jessica so I could “pursue” her. Truly incredibly stupid. Jessica stood her ground. Watching her coworkers scurry away, the fake grievance on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a smug “I knew it” expression. She even shot a look toward the door, her lips pouting high, and mouthed the words: “See? I told you this toad wouldn’t give up. I yelled at him, and he still wants to be alone with me.” Manager Hayes coughed awkwardly. “Mr. Mercer, Mr. Thorne is…” Robert let out a ragged, heavy breath. “Jessica, shut your f*cking mouth! Do you have any idea who you are talking to?!” Jessica stiffened her neck, looking completely defiant. “Mr. Mercer, how could I not know? He’s the Michael who’s been harassing me!” “I made it very clear to him last night. I told him I have a boyfriend. Even if you’re trying to play matchmaker for him, I’m not going to agree.” “Work is work, and private life is private life. Even if you are the boss, you can’t interfere in your employees’ personal matters.” She turned to look at me. “If you keep doing this, I’m going to expose your disgusting behavior right in the main project channel. Let everyone from both companies judge who’s right!” I was completely speechless. What the hell was she talking about? Her imagination was running wild. What disgusting behavior? Was it just a direct message request? Robert almost roared, cutting her off. “Are your eyes glued to the ceiling?! This is Mr. Thorne from the client’s corporate headquarters! CEO Michael Thorne!” “The biggest boss of our entire project! The eighty-million-dollar deal depends on Mr. Thorne’s approval! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to Mr. Thorne like that?” “His net worth is in the hundreds of millions. He’s the most sought-after eligible bachelor in the city. How many socialites and celebrities are lining up for him? You think he’d look at you?!” “And you dare falsely accuse Mr. Thorne of harassing you? I think you’ve lost your damn mind!” 6. Robert roared until his voice was hoarse, spit flying everywhere. He really couldn’t hold it in anymore. If he let this idiot keep talking, Vanguard Creatives would be shutting its doors tomorrow. “Mr. Thorne from the client’s corporate headquarters?” Jessica’s eyes—which just a moment ago were filled with disdain and impatience—suddenly went wide. Her pupils practically dilated in shock. She stared at me, her mouth slightly open, as if trying to confirm whether Robert was talking crazy. Manager Hayes appropriately chimed in with a low voice. “That’s right, Jessica. This is CEO Michael Thorne from the corporate group. He is responsible for the final review of this project. The project proposal was personally reviewed and vetted by Mr. Thorne.” “The project proposal?” Jessica muttered, repeating the words. Her face started turning from white to red, and then back from red to white. Beneath that shock and disbelief, did I actually catch a hint of secret delight? Her eyes flickered rapidly, and her posture seemed to unconsciously straighten a bit. That shrew-like, aggressive stance she had just a second ago instantly vanished. Her entire aura changed. Hah. I couldn’t be bothered to watch her rapidly changing expressions. I walked straight over and sat in the head seat of the conference table. Manager Hayes and Robert quickly stood on either side behind me. “Sit.” I pointed to the chair across from me. Jessica forced out what she probably thought was her most graceful, even slightly shy smile. “Mr. Thorne, it really was a misunderstanding just now. I didn’t purposely ignore your message request. I just really didn’t expect you to be so young.” “Since you are so sincere, I will definitely give you some serious consideration.” I couldn’t believe it. Even at this point, she still thought I was trying to hit on her. Was her brain broken? I didn’t listen to her nonsense at all. I simply threw the manila envelope in my hand onto the conference table. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make her jump. I pulled out a printed document from inside. It was the exact file she had uploaded to the main project channel. I flipped to the critical page and tapped my finger heavily on the glaringly incorrect unit. “Jessica. Project Lead Jessica.” My voice was ice-cold. “Is this how Vanguard Creatives works?” “The most basic material data unit possible. You wrote ‘kilograms’ instead of ‘tons’? Moving the decimal point three places?” “Do you know what this means?” “If we procured materials based on this incorrect data, how much would the cost accounting be off on an eighty-million-dollar project?” “How massive of a disaster would the construction materials be?” “The entire project’s timeline, quality, and even safety could have landmines planted in them because of this incredibly stupid mistake!” “Is this the work you ‘love’? Is this the professional competence you are ‘proud of’? Is this the level of someone who is about to become a Project Lead?” I pushed the document forward. “This is why I tried to message you. I wanted to tell you privately, to save you some face.” “But instead of appreciating that, you go full drama queen and imagine this whole theatrical plot.” “And you go around telling everyone I’m harassing you? Desperate? Creepy entitled male? A toad trying to eat swan meat?” “Jessica, tell me. What exactly is inside that head of yours?” My voice wasn’t loud, but every word was a kill shot. Robert’s face turned green listening to this. He violently slammed his hand on the table. “Jessica, you incompetent, blundering idiot! You almost killed the company! You almost ruined all of us!” “And you dare to slander Mr. Thorne? Accuse him of harassing you? Who the f*ck do you think you are! You think Mr. Thorne would look at you? I spit on that!” “Apologize! Apologize to Mr. Thorne immediately!”

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When I was 18, I caught my sister lifting Carter’s shirt, her hands trailing over his abs. The boy’s shirt hung loose, and he simply let her do whatever she wanted. At 22, Carter listened to his family and married me. But everyone knew that even though we were married, he still couldn’t let go of the sister he loved so fiercely. Later, I asked for a divorce. He stayed silent for a long time before finally signing the divorce papers. “If you ever need any help in the future, just ask.” At 28, I came back to attend his wedding to my sister. He glared darkly at the man standing beside me. “You couldn’t wait to divorce me back then. Was it all just for him?” 01 “I heard Maya Hayes is back.” “I remember she was the one who asked for the divorce, right?” “Carter Vance is the CEO of the Vance family now. I bet she’s regretting it.” “What’s there to regret? She stole her sister’s marriage in the first place. This is just returning things to their rightful owner.” … The moment I stepped toward the VIP room, I heard them talking about me. Over the past three years, the rumors about me hadn’t died down. They all said I was just playing hard to get. Even my own parents thought so. On the day of my divorce, my mother specifically warned me: “Since you two are divorced, you are not to contact him anymore.” “Your sister injured her leg, and she needs Carter right now. Don’t do anything to upset her.” Seeing me look down in silence, she added: “This marriage belonged to your sister in the first place. If she hadn’t gone abroad to further her career, it never would have been your turn.” My sister, Serena Hayes, and Carter Vance had been the envy of our social circle. But on the eve of their wedding, Serena ran away. By then, the news of the two families merging had already been announced to the press. Under immense public pressure, the Vance family elders decided to swap the bride and have him marry me instead. I don’t know how they convinced him, but Carter eventually agreed to marry me. For three years, we lived like a perfectly normal married couple. But everyone knew that despite marrying me, he had never let go of Serena. He never let me into his home office. One day, he forgot to lock the door. I peeked through the crack and instantly felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. The walls of his study were covered in his and Serena’s pre-wedding photos. I had never seen Carter look like that. So vibrant, so doting, so utterly focused. His eyes were entirely filled with Serena. That was the moment the thought of divorce first crossed my mind. On the day I finally made up my mind, I accidentally overheard him on the phone. He was speaking in a gentle, coaxing voice to the person on the other end: “Yeah, don’t be scared. I’ll be there in ten minutes… Don’t try to walk, just wait for me. Be a good girl.” The moment he turned around, he saw me. I spoke calmly, “Dinner is ready. Have some before you leave.” He paused for a brief second, then continued walking toward the door. “You eat. Don’t wait up for me.” Just as he was about to step out, I called his name again. A flash of impatience crossed his face. “What is it?” “Carter,” I said. “Let’s get a divorce.” 02 By the time the news of our divorce reached my parents, we had already signed the papers. Carter didn’t mistreat me. He gave me half of his assets. My parents summoned me home in the middle of the night. They interrogated me like a criminal, demanding to know how I could be so cruel as to take half of Carter’s fortune. “Maya, is this how we raised you? Did you only marry him for the Vance family’s money?” Serena stood to the side on her crutches, shedding tears. “Maya, are you blaming me? Are you mad that I came back and took Carter away from you…” Before she could finish, my parents cut her off. “Carter was supposed to be your husband anyway! If you hadn’t been so stubborn about running away, you and Carter would have kids running around by now.” Serena loved Carter, but she loved ballet more. Shortly after accepting Carter’s proposal, she received an offer from a world-renowned ballet company in Europe. She dumped Carter without hesitation and flew across the world. For three years, she practically cut all contact with him. Until that one night, when Carter received an international call. He had been leaning against my shoulder, trying to catch his breath. He answered the phone right in front of me. Because we were so close, I clearly heard the tearful female voice on the other end. Carter froze. One second… five seconds… ten seconds… It took a full thirty seconds for Carter to react. He quickly grabbed a robe and hurried out of the room. Carter didn’t come back that night. The next day, I found out from my parents that Serena had been in an accident during a performance and shattered her leg. Carter personally flew out to bring her back. Even though she was staying at my parents’ house, Carter handled everything related to her personally. Because of this, my parents even sat me down to “counsel” me. “Don’t take it to heart. Your sister can never dance again. She’s devastated, and Carter is the only one who can comfort her right now.” My parents had favored Serena since we were little. She was beautiful, had great grades, and was incredibly talented at singing and dancing. I, on the other hand, was just a bookworm—boring, and terrible at sweet-talking. Everyone revolved around the injured Serena. Including my husband. He gradually lost all patience with me. One evening, he promised to pick me up, but left me waiting in the pouring rain for two hours. I got soaked and came down with a high fever. Carter had no choice but to leave Serena and come to the hospital to take care of me. But my mother believed it was just a manipulative trick to force Carter to come home. She screamed at me hysterically: “Because you dragged Carter away, your sister almost did something unthinkable last night!” “You are a perfectly healthy person! Why do you have to compete with a disabled woman?” I looked at her in disbelief. “But… Carter is my husband.” “So what? This marriage belonged to her in the first place! You stole her husband!” But back then, she was the one who begged me to marry him. Before Serena went abroad, she came to me, trying to convince me to marry Carter. “Maya, I know you like him. Isn’t this a great opportunity?” “Let’s keep the wealth in the family. You don’t want Carter ending up with some other woman, do you?” I kept my head down, staying silent. Serena got anxious. “Are you really just going to watch our family go bankrupt?” “I’m begging you, Maya. Or… are you worried I’ll come back and fight you for him?” My expression shifted slightly. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry. Once I go abroad, I won’t ever contact him again. I swear!” For the first three years, she actually kept her word. But in the end, she forgot the vow she had made. 03 After getting the divorce certificate, I moved out West by myself. I didn’t contact my family for three years. A little while ago, they reached out to tell me that Carter and Serena were getting married. Serena was the one who called. “Maya, you have to come back for my wedding. I’ll only feel like I haven’t wronged you if you’re there.” I stayed silent for a long time before saying, “Fine.” The day I arrived home, the weather was beautiful. As soon as I pulled my suitcase through the front door, Serena came running out of her room. “Maya!” Her steps were light and quick. It was late autumn, but she was only wearing a thin slip dress. Behind her, Carter strode quickly, holding a coat. “Why can you never remember to put your slippers on? If you do this again, I’m going to…” His voice suddenly stopped. He saw me. This was the first time we had seen each other since the divorce. Common courtesy dictated I should say hello. I turned and gave him a faint nod. After three years, Carter looked exactly as I remembered. Only, the coldness in his eyes had been replaced by a lingering tenderness. He nodded back, shifted his gaze, and draped the coat over Serena’s shoulders. “You two catch up. I need to go handle some work.” Serena stepped up to me and affectionately linked her arm through mine. “I was so worried you wouldn’t come. I’m going for my dress fitting tomorrow, will you come with me?” I pulled my arm away with a blank expression. “I’m busy tomorrow.” Serena looked disappointed. “Is it really important?” “Yes. Very important.” She thought for a moment. “Then let’s reschedule for the day after tomorrow. Come home early tomorrow after you’re done…” “I’m not staying here,” I interrupted. “Tell Mom and Dad I’ll be pretty busy the next few days, so I won’t be staying at the house.” With that, I grabbed my suitcase and walked away without looking back. I hadn’t walked far when a car slowly pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Carter’s handsome face. “Get in. I’ll drop you off.” I politely refused. “No thanks. I’m fine.” He was stubborn. Since I wouldn’t get in, he just drove slowly alongside me. “It’s hard to get an Uber around here. Get in.” Looking at the endless road ahead, I finally compromised. I got in the car and gave him an address. His brow furrowed slightly. “Why aren’t you staying at The Belvedere?” “I don’t like it.” The condo at The Belvedere was the one given to me in the divorce settlement. But what he didn’t know was that I had already sold it. Carter’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t ask any more questions. When we arrived at my apartment building, I got out, and Carter followed. He grabbed my suitcase, showing no intention of handing it over. “Let’s go.” “I can take it up myself.” I tried to pull the suitcase back, but it wouldn’t budge. He scanned the surroundings. “Are you having financial troubles?” This place was more than a few steps down from The Belvedere. “No.” He simply dragged the suitcase toward the entrance. “Which building? What floor?” Carter was a persistent man. When he wanted to do something, no one could change his mind. I stopped fighting it and led the way in silence. We got in the elevator and went up. Standing at my front door, I took the suitcase from him. “Thank you. It’s not a good time today, so I won’t invite you in.” “Wait.” I looked back. “These past few years… have you been doing okay?” Looking into his sincere eyes, I felt a wave of dizziness. In my memory, he had never spoken to me with that tone of voice. Just as I was about to answer, the door suddenly opened from the inside. A tall, strikingly handsome man appeared in front of us without warning. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, tall and lean—he looked like walking pheromones. He reached out a long arm and pulled me into his embrace. “What took you so long, hm?” He leaned in to kiss me. The moment his lips touched mine, Carter’s furious voice rang out from behind: “What are you doing?!” But the man had no intention of stopping. He laid a deep kiss on me before slowly turning his head to look at Carter, still holding me tight. But his words were meant for me: “I’ve only been gone a little while, and you’ve already found your next target? You really know how to keep a guy on his toes~” I shoved him lightly, but he didn’t budge an inch. I had no choice but to look at Carter. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk next time.” Carter’s hands balled into fists at his sides, his lips pressed into a thin line. It was the precursor to his rage. But before he could explode, I was pulled inside. The door clicked shut. The man in front of me leaned in dangerously close. “If I recall correctly, your flight landed at 11 AM. It’s currently 2 PM. Three hours, and you’re already meeting up with your ex-husband?” I lightly poked his firm waist. “Liam…” He immediately caught my hand. His voice dropped low. “Don’t try to brush this off.” I gripped the edge of his shirt, looking down in silence. A large hand gently lifted my chin. The second our eyes met, Liam let out an exasperated laugh. “I haven’t even started punishing you yet, why are you crying?” I sniffled. “I missed you so much…” 04 After the divorce, I moved out West and opened a cozy little B&B in a mountain town in Colorado. The town had perfect weather year-round, and the locals were incredibly warm and genuine. Spending time with them did wonders for my mental health. Within a year, the reputation of my little inn grew, and business was no longer as bleak as when I first started. Liam Sterling was the most reclusive guest I had ever hosted. Most of the time, he stayed locked in his room, never stepping outside. He only appeared on the terrace when there were very few people around. At first, I was worried something might happen to him, so I unconsciously kept an eye on his movements. Until one day, while I was sunbathing in the courtyard, he walked over to me with a half-smile and asked: “Do I really look like someone who’s about to end it all?” I looked up in shock. He lay down on the lounge chair next to mine, looking completely relaxed and careless. “I heard you on the phone.” I was instantly mortified. The night before, I had called my best friend and mentioned Liam. I had said, “That guy is really good-looking. It’d be a real shame if he just dropped dead.” I never expected Liam to overhear it. While I was dying of embarrassment, Liam suddenly asked, “You don’t look like a local. What made you want to open a B&B here?” I made up some nonsense: “Too much money, too much free time.” A low, incredibly pleasant laugh rumbled in his throat. I couldn’t help but look over at him, and I was met with a breathtaking sight— The man was resting his head on his arm, staring out at the horizon. His jawline was sharp and clean, his side profile sculpted to perfection. Carter was already incredibly good-looking, but Liam was on a completely different level. He must have felt my stare, because he turned his head, and our eyes locked. I don’t remember who looked away first, but from that day on, the atmosphere between us changed subtly. The day we finally crossed the line, Liam and I had gone hiking in the mountains. On our way down, the weather suddenly turned, and a massive thunderstorm broke out. By the time we got back to the inn, we were completely soaked. That night, I developed a high fever. While trying to get up to take some medicine, I shattered a glass on the floor. Liam literally broke the door down to get to me. I don’t know if it was an illusion or my fever-addled brain, but I distinctly saw sheer terror on his face the moment he burst in. And the second he saw me, he visibly let out a massive sigh of relief. The sickness hit me like a truck. I was bedridden for five days, and Liam took care of me for all five. He moved his instruments into my room, which was how I found out he was a musician. “So, are you just ready to pack up and leave at any moment?” I asked, clutching a mug of hot water. He didn’t answer, instead asking, “Do you want me to leave?” I stayed silent. He took the mug from my hands and suddenly leaned in to kiss me. His burning breath seared every cell in my body. I gripped his shirt, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst from my chest. After that day, Liam essentially became the new co-owner of the B&B. Changing lightbulbs, fixing broken chairs—it all became his job. The guests at the inn loved to tease him: “You’re such a good househusband! You should make the beautiful boss marry you already.” Whenever they said that, he would turn to me and ask: “When are you planning to marry me?” I would always just laugh it off. On the surface, he didn’t seem to mind, but the second we were alone, he would find every way possible to torment me in bed. Even when I begged for mercy, he showed absolutely no restraint. I thought those days would last forever. But one day, Liam vanished. I asked the other guests at the inn, and they gossiped: “Where else could he have gone? With a face like that, and being in the music industry? I bet a sugar mama came and scooped him up.” 05 And today, after his sudden disappearance, I finally saw him again. The more I thought about it, the more it hurt, and my tears fell even harder. Liam stared down at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence. But I didn’t say a word. I just kept crying. After a long moment, the man who had looked furious just seconds ago resignedly cupped my face. “I am so fucking hopelessly wrapped around your finger.” “Are you still going to leave?” “Leave? You’re a mess, how could I possibly leave you?” I still didn’t quite believe him. Exhausted from crying, I wrapped my arms around his neck and refused to let go. Helpless, he had no choice but to lie down with me. I slept incredibly soundly that time. When I opened my eyes, Liam was no longer beside me. My phone had been switched to silent at some point, and I had 99+ missed calls—more than half of them from Carter. Aside from that, the long-dead college alumni group chat had suddenly exploded. It was Carter sending a message, saying he wanted to organize a reunion. [If Carter is hosting, we absolutely have to go!] [I heard Liam Sterling is back in town too. Someone invite him!] [Liam? Liam Sterling? When did he get back?!] [It’s really him! I’m a massive fan, I track all his movements. Word is, he came back this time to propose to the girl he’s been secretly in love with for ten years.] Just as I read that, my hand felt empty. My phone had been snatched away. Liam’s handsome face zoomed in close. He ruffled my messy hair. “Sleep well?” I shook my head and slowly shuffled over to rest my head on his lap. “I thought you weren’t going to come.” Before I flew back, I had sent him an email giving him my address. He never replied. I assumed he was too busy to even check his emails. I never expected to see him the moment I got back. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. But behind the surprise was also a bit of a shock. He scooped me up into his arms. “Are you mad?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, buried my face in his chest, and refused to make a sound. His voice softened. “I left in such a rush that day, and I lost my phone, so I couldn’t contact you right away. But I reached out as soon as I could, didn’t I?” “Don’t be mad, okay?” After he left, I had fallen into a deep emotional abyss for a long time. When they said a sugar mama had taken him away, I actually believed it. His phone was disconnected, he didn’t reply to texts—it was like he had vanished off the face of the earth. If he hadn’t finally managed to get a hold of me later, I would have gone to the police. I rolled over in his arms and kept interrogating him: “Then why didn’t you reply to my email?” “The second I saw the email, I bought a plane ticket. I wanted to give you a surprise. Instead, you gave me a heart attack.” Thinking back to how he must have felt seeing me show up with Carter, the impact definitely wasn’t small. I smiled faintly. “But I still haven’t forgiven you.” He lowered his head, a dangerous aura instantly enveloping me. “Then I’ll just have to use that method.” My instinct was to run, but he grabbed my ankle and pulled me right back. Don’t let Liam’s polished exterior fool you—he was a completely different beast behind closed doors. I pressed my hands against his chest. “Liam, I just got off a plane…” “It’s fine. I’ll do all the work, you just lie there.” By the time he was done tossing me around, it was the middle of the night. I was starving and exhausted, pouting in his arms. He seemed to be in a fantastic mood and brought up the alumni reunion. “I’m meeting up with a good buddy of mine. Do you want to go to the reunion together later?” I purposely tried to get a rise out of him: “Carter’s going to be there. Aren’t you worried something might happen between us?” His hand slowly trailed down the curve of my waist, his smile so handsome it made the hairs on my arms stand up. “You’re welcome to try.” What a petty, jealous man!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “403328”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was the billionaire CEO’s tragic first love who died young. Fifteen years after my death, the System resurrected me and told me to save the kid standing on the edge of the rooftop. “He is your flesh and blood. If you don’t help him, he’ll truly have nothing left in this world.” But I grew up with a fiery temper and a spoiled personality. I was used to people serving me, not the other way around. So, I marched over in my stilettos, grabbed him by the collar, and pulled him back. “Stop acting like you’re going to jump. You’re just as pathetic and useless as your father.” “Where is he, anyway? Doesn’t he know I’m back? Why isn’t he here to pick me up?” 01 The teenage boy looked at me quietly. For a split second, a look of bewilderment crossed his face, but he quickly recovered, his expression returning to a stagnant, ripple-less pool of water. He tilted his head slightly, lost in his own world. I clicked my tongue impatiently and gave him an order. “Call Arthur Sterling.” It took him a long while to pull out his phone and dial a number. The phone rang for thirty seconds before the automated voicemail prompt kicked in. I narrowed my eyes. “Arthur dares to ignore calls? He’s got some nerve!” Leo seemed used to it. He was just about to put his phone away. I snatched it right out of his hand and dialed the number three or four more times in a row. Finally, the call connected, but it was a crisp female voice on the other end. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling is currently in a meeting. Please do not interrupt.” She hung up before I even had a chance to speak. I almost smashed the phone against the wall, but suddenly remembered it wasn’t mine. I forced my raised hand down, grinding my teeth in anger. “Alright, just you wait!” Leo tugged at my sleeve. When I looked over in confusion, he stared at me with those clear, glass-like eyes and softly said two words. “Go back.” 02 On the ride back, I confirmed with the System one more time: “Is this silent kid really my son?” I told Leo the cab’s seats were uncomfortable; he just said, “Mm.” I told him I didn’t like the driver’s heavy breathing because the rhythm was too messy and annoying; he just said, “Mm.” I told him the clothes he was wearing were painfully ugly and dragging down my aesthetic; he still just said, “Mm.” Eventually, I got so mad I started cursing, demanding to know where that bastard Arthur had rolled off to. He finally raised his eyes to look at me, his eyelashes trembling slightly, and whispered two words. “Business trip.” I almost died of anger. Getting a single word out of him was like pulling teeth. He didn’t seem like my son at all. When he was two, he used to scream so loud he’d keep Arthur awake all night. He clearly had my exact fiery temper back then. How did he turn into this silent, closed-off shell? [Host, please try to be a little understanding. The child suffers from severe psychological trauma. Communication barriers are just one of the symptoms.] I pursed my lips, looking at Leo’s thin, frail silhouette and his dull, lifeless eyes. My chest physically ached with anger. In the fifteen years I was gone, how the hell did that bastard Arthur raise our kid?! 03 After getting home, I did a quick tour of my own bedroom. Good. The layout was exactly the same as it was fifteen years ago, and not a single one of my belongings was missing. However, in the shoe cabinet by the door, there was an extra pair of pale green women’s slippers. I glanced at them. They fit my personal style, so I didn’t overthink it. By the time I finished my inspection, I realized that kid Leo had disappeared. His bedroom door was locked. I frowned, grabbed a spare key, and opened the door myself. The room was pitch black. The lights were off, and the heavy blackout curtains were drawn tight, blocking out every sliver of sunlight. As the light from the living room spilled into the room through the open door, I saw a lonely, desolate figure sitting by the window. I stomped over, flipped the light switch with a loud click, crossed my arms, and sat down right in front of him. Leo just sat there blankly, staring unblinkingly in one direction, lost in his own thoughts. His eyes were completely dull and devoid of light. I stared at him and spat out three words. “I am hungry.” Leo finally seemed to register my presence. Hearing my words, he looked down, pulled out his phone, and opened UberEats. “I don’t eat takeout!” “Is this how Arthur lets you resolve your three meals a day?!” Leo put his phone down, lowered his head, and stopped responding to me entirely. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration, turned around, and walked out, unable to stop myself from complaining to the System. “With a mess like this, you might as well have let me stay dead.” Behind me, Leo looked up, his eyelashes trembling slightly. 04 I called the System out and demanded a full rundown of what Leo had been through over the last fifteen years. The System told me that after I died, Arthur grew more depressed by the day. There were times he completely neglected his own company, let alone taking proper care of Leo. Once, Arthur got blackout drunk and slept for two days straight. During that time, Leo didn’t eat a single bite of food. He cried from hunger until he passed out, and had to be rushed to the ER to be resuscitated. After that incident, Arthur dumped Leo on a nanny and threw himself entirely into his work. The nanny saw that Arthur didn’t pay much attention to the kid, so her attitude toward Leo was terrible. She rarely cooked for him and occasionally even hit or scolded him. It wasn’t until Leo fainted from starvation again that Arthur rushed back and discovered what was happening. By then, Leo was already severely ill, to the point where he couldn’t even go to school. Arthur fired the nanny, but struggled to find someone suitable to care for the boy. His executive assistant, Sylvia Thorne, volunteered to take on the task. “Sylvia?” I recalled the woman who had answered Arthur’s phone earlier. It had to be her. [Leo hates her very much. Because of her, he had a massive falling out with your husband.] [Three years ago, Arthur planned to marry Sylvia to balance his work and family life. Leo vehemently opposed it. He held a knife to his own wrist and forced Arthur to swear he would never marry Sylvia, or else he would kill himself.] I couldn’t believe my ears. “Arthur actually wanted to marry someone else?” [Please don’t worry, Host. In the end, he didn’t marry Sylvia. To this day, their relationship remains strictly boss and subordinate.] [However, ever since that incident, Sylvia has harbored deep resentment toward Leo, and her attitude toward him is no longer what it used to be.] I frowned. “What did she do?” [Learning from the previous nanny’s mistakes, she didn’t dare do anything too obvious. Instead, she just tells Leo every single day that his mother is never coming back. She tells him he needs to be obedient and not be a burden to his father. She constantly reminds him that Arthur needs a capable wife who can be his right-hand woman, not the ghost of a dead first love.] I let out a cold laugh. “Oh, really? A right-hand woman, huh?” [Host, what do you plan to do next?] “Arthur clearly has water in his brain. I’ll just have to beat it out of him,” I smiled playfully. “And as for this Sylvia… using those kinds of psychological tricks on my son? She’s about to get what’s coming to her.” 05 But even I didn’t expect the confrontation with Sylvia to happen so quickly. The next morning, I was still sleeping in my room when I was abruptly woken up by a loud commotion. I pulled the blanket over my head, intending to go back to sleep. Then I heard the argument outside my door. A female voice, dripping with blame, said, “Leo, how could you just bring a stranger home? And a woman of unknown origin at that?” “I know you’ve always hated me being by Mr. Sterling’s side, but you don’t have to retaliate against him like this. Where does this put Mr. Sterling? And what do you think you’re doing?” But no matter what Sylvia said, Leo’s attitude was resolute. He refused to let her in. Sylvia raised her voice slightly. “Leo, you are being so disobedient. It is truly disappointing.” “Do you want me to tell Mr. Sterling that you brought some shady woman home and let her sleep in your mother’s bedroom?” I didn’t catch what Leo said, but Sylvia’s tone suddenly shifted, becoming incredibly severe. “If that’s the case, then I have no choice but to have Mr. Sterling come back and discipline you personally.” I played with my manicured nails, chuckled to myself, and opened the door. Seeing me step out, Leo frowned slightly. “Did she… wake you?” “It’s fine. It was about time to wake up anyway.” Sylvia looked me up and down. “You are certainly pretty. No wonder you managed to seduce Leo like this.” “But as long as I am by Mr. Sterling’s side, I will never allow someone like you to step foot in the Sterling household. Leo is naive and isolated from the world. You’re just taking advantage of that to manipulate him…” SMACK! A crisp, resounding slap echoed through the hallway. Sylvia covered the bright red handprint on her cheek, staring at me in absolute disbelief. “You actually hit me?” I smiled. “You’re exactly the person I intended to hit.” Sylvia took a deep breath and spoke into her phone. “Mr. Sterling, you heard all of that. Leo has truly gone too far this time, letting this woman run wild in your home…” “Hold on.” Arthur’s voice came through the speakerphone, carrying a trace of undetectable agitation and uncontrollable, overwhelming joy. “Turn on your camera. Let me see her face.” Sylvia froze for a second, but she obeyed Arthur’s command, switching to a video call and pointing the camera right at me. “Get out.” A voice laced with icy hostility rang out. Leo stepped in front of me, blocking the camera lens with his hand, refusing to let Arthur see my face. Before anyone could react, he pulled me back into the room and locked the door behind us. Sylvia banged on the door from the outside, berating him. “Leo, why are you being so rebellious now? Going against your father for some woman—you’re going to disappoint him deeply…” Leo’s tone was indifferent and entirely calm. “None of your business.” Sylvia tried using both soft pleas and harsh threats through the door, but nothing worked. Even when she threatened to complain to Arthur, Leo treated it like white noise. She wasted almost an hour at the door before finally giving up and leaving. Inside the room, I stared at Leo, deep in thought. “Why didn’t you want Arthur to see me?” Leo’s actions were incredibly abnormal. It wasn’t just a kid throwing a tantrum. He seemed withdrawn and antisocial, but his mind was delicate and sensitive. There had to be a reason he did that. Leo slowly looked up and met my gaze. He suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist, a faint tremor in his voice. “Don’t. Leave.” My heart swelled with warmth. I gently wrapped my arm around his back, softly stroking the top of his head. My voice was gentle. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t leave.” Leo buried his face in my embrace for a few seconds before pulling back slightly. He pulled out his phone and showed me a document. The more I read, the deeper my frown became. “What the hell is Arthur thinking? He actually agreed to this?!” The document detailed ten top-performing students Arthur had sponsored over the years. According to the proposal, he was going to select one of these ten to adopt as his stepson and heir. I was so furious I wanted to call Arthur and curse him out immediately. “Is his brain filled with water? Did his brain cells shrink as he aged? What an absolute idiot.” Leo tugged at my hand. “It’s… cousin’s arrangement.” “Don’t… trust him.” I froze for a second. Leo’s “cousin” was Richard Hayes, my own cousin who had grown up with me. Richard and I had a pretty good relationship. Back when I insisted on marrying Arthur, my grandfather vehemently opposed it, and Richard was the one who helped me convince him. I forced myself to calm down and looked at Leo. “What else do you know?” He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll handle this.” I made a phone call to my grandfather’s executive secretary. I briefly explained the situation and asked him to investigate Richard Hayes, as well as Arthur’s current whereabouts. “Understood. I’ll send people to investigate immediately. You’ll have the results in three hours.” “Wait. One more thing.” “…Miss Chloe, does the old Mr. Vance know you’re back?” “I haven’t told Grandpa yet. Don’t rush to tell him. By the way, is Grandpa’s health doing okay?” “The old man is strong and healthy. He just misses you very much. He talks about you all the time.” I blinked rapidly, my throat tightening. “I miss Grandpa too.” 06 The secretary informed me that Arthur had just flown back into the country. The moment he stepped out of the airport, he was heading straight to corporate headquarters for a board meeting to announce his chosen heir. I told Leo to stay put at home and changed the front door passcode. Then, I drove straight to the highway to intercept Arthur. In the years I was gone, this was how he took care of Leo. He was doing a fantastic job. Following the location data the secretary sent, I tailed Arthur’s car. I was just about to overtake them and force them to pull over when I realized something was wrong. This wasn’t the route to the corporate headquarters. I slowed down, trailing them from a safe distance, wanting to see exactly what he was up to. To my surprise, the car drove straight out into the deserted suburbs. I followed closely behind. Suddenly, the car’s trajectory became erratic, swerving wildly before slamming on the brakes, scraping against the guardrail, and coming to a screeching halt. The car doors flew open, and two men tumbled out, violently brawling with each other. Arthur was clearly losing. He was grabbed by his collar, slammed against the car window, and took a brutal punch to the gut that made him double over and drop to a crouch. The driver pinned Arthur to the ground, picked up a heavy rock, and aimed it right at Arthur’s head, ready to smash it down. I slammed on my brakes, jumped out of the car, and sprinted over in my stilettos. I grabbed a heavy steel wrench I had grabbed from my trunk and brought it down hard on the driver’s head. The driver’s grip on Arthur loosened. He stumbled sideways, turning toward me in a daze. Before he could fully turn around, I delivered a swift, brutal kick, sending him sprawling to the dirt. Arthur looked like an absolute wreck. His custom suit was filthy, and his hair was plastered messily across his forehead with sweat. He gasped for air, squinting as he looked up at me. His attempt to stand up suddenly froze. He stayed frozen in that position, staring at me intently, muttering to himself as if he were sleepwalking. “Chloe? Is it you?” “I haven’t seen you in so long… I thought you’d never want to see me again…” Confirmed. This man’s brain was definitely not functioning properly. I didn’t have the patience to waste time with him. I raised my leg and delivered a solid kick right to his thigh. He let out a muffled groan, and in the next second, he reached out and grabbed my ankle. “Such a familiar force…” Arthur chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving me for a single second. “Chloe. It really is you.” I let out a cold laugh, wrenched my ankle out of his grasp, and slammed my stiletto heel down squarely onto his chest, grinding it in. “Alright, let’s hear it.” “In the fifteen years I was gone, exactly how did you bully my son?” Arthur stared at me in a daze, letting out a confused, “Ah?” I straddled his waist and delivered a stinging slap across his face. “Who gave you permission to dump Leo with a nanny? Who allowed you to let Sylvia Thorne walk all over him? And who agreed to adopt some random kid as your heir?! You think just because I died, you can bully my son?! Do you even have me in your heart? Do you even care about Leo?!” Arthur grabbed my hands, his eyes turning red. “I’m sorry, Chloe.” “The first few years after you left, every time I looked at that child, he reminded me of you… There were so many times I just wanted to end it and go find you. I really… I had no other choice but to entrust him to someone else’s care.” “Later, when he grew up a bit, he completely refused to get close to me. And I was overwhelmed with company affairs…” SMACK! Another resounding slap. I grabbed Arthur by his collar, gritting my teeth and enunciating every word. “What does any of that have to do with him?! Why should a two-year-old child have to bear the burden of my death?!” “He was only two when I left! He was so small, what did he know?! He lost his mother at such a young age, and you just neglected him. Are you even human, Arthur? Do you have a conscience?!” Arthur obediently took the slaps without fighting back, then stealthily reached over to hold my hand. Tears were welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over. His refined, handsome face bore the bright red marks of my fingers. He looked thoroughly victimized. “I was wrong, Chloe. I swear I’ll never do it again.” “What the hell are you and Richard playing at? And what’s going on today? Explain it to me clearly!” “It’s a long story. Chloe, why don’t you let go of me first…” I slowly released his collar, my voice freezing cold. “You’d better have your own master plan, because if you don’t, I won’t spare you today.” Seeing me let go, Arthur leaned in, nuzzling against me as he held my hand. He pushed up his half-rim glasses and flashed me a smile. “Don’t worry, Chloe. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

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