Returning from a business trip, I casually grabbed the smart kettle on the kitchen counter to pour myself a glass of water. A second later, I froze. The water was ice cold. Victoria and I had been married for three years. She was a militant health fanatic, imposing draconian rules on both herself and me. Our smart kettle was programmed to sit at exactly 99.5 degrees, every single minute of every single day. Once, I accidentally bumped the temperature down a single degree. She lectured me for four agonizing hours. Our house contained absolutely nothing but purified water. Sugar was poison. Even an extra drop of olive oil in a pan was a sin. She had severe OCD and a terrifying need for order, demanding that everything in our lives remain under her absolute control. My heart skipped a beat. I pulled open the refrigerator door. Dozens of plastic cups filled with ice packed the top shelf. Below them sat rows of Coca-Cola and Red Bull. At that exact moment, Victoria’s voice echoed in my head. “Bennett, drinking ice water is a slow suicide.” “Those processed garbage drinks will only accelerate your body’s decay.” I stood paralyzed. It seemed our marriage finally had a third person. A person who made her break every single one of her golden rules. I stood in the entryway with my suitcase. The house was dead silent. I could hear my own heartbeat thumping against my ribs. A faint, unfamiliar scent of men’s cologne lingered in the air. Victoria’s obsession with the water temperature bordered on psychotic. She even had an app on her phone to monitor the smart kettle remotely. Once, when I accidentally tapped the minus button and dropped it to 98 degrees, she came home from work and stared at me with pure disappointment. “Bennett, I have told you a thousand times. Only water at exactly 99.5 degrees can maintain your body’s internal homeostasis.” “Every time you break this rule, you are treating your own health like a joke.” Yet right now, the water in the kettle was completely cold. I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that the kettle was just broken. I let go of my suitcase. My hand moved on its own, pulling the refrigerator door open again. A blast of cold air hit my face, freezing the blood in my veins. The fridge, usually strictly organized with farmers market organics, cage-free eggs, and lean cuts of meat, had been aggressively cleared out. Taking up a massive chunk of space were the ice cups and the sugary, carbonated energy drinks. My head spun. Victoria’s cold reprimands played on a loop in my mind. “Bennett, no more than three grams of sodium a day.” “You must measure the olive oil. Not a single drop over five grams per dish.” “The fat content in this cut of beef exceeds the limit by half a percent. Throw it out.” “All outside food is garbage pumped full of chemicals and preservatives. Do you have a death wish?” So who was going to tell me where all of this junk came from? Who was the man that made the rigidly principled Victoria tolerate all of this? My throat went entirely dry. My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice, the pain making it impossible to breathe. I slammed the fridge door shut, desperately trying to calm down. I pulled out my phone, ready to call her and demand to know what was going on. Right at that second, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. Victoria was home. “You’re back early?” She looked slightly surprised to see me, but quickly masked it with her usual aloof, clinical expression. “Yeah, the project wrapped up ahead of schedule.” Her eyes scanned the living room as if inspecting a crime scene, finally landing on me. Her perfectly manicured eyebrows twitched in slight annoyance. “Why are the lights off? Don’t you know sitting in the dark degrades your vision?” She slipped off her heels and walked straight into the kitchen, naturally reaching for the kettle to pour a glass of water. When she saw the digital temperature display, her hand visibly jerked. A split second later, she placed the kettle back onto the heating pad as if nothing had happened. My heart sank even further. She saw it. But she didn’t say a word. “Victoria.” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Yes?” she replied, not even turning around as she poured a glass of cold water. “Is the kettle broken?” The air in the kitchen instantly solidified. I could practically see her spine stiffen. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her tone flat. “Probably.” But there was a microscopic tremor of panic in her voice. “The clinic has been busy lately. I haven’t been paying attention.” With that, she took a sip of the cold water and practically fled toward the master bedroom. I stood rooted to the floor, staring at her retreating back, a deep chill crawling up my legs. She was lying. Because just seconds ago, when she walked past me, I had clearly smelled that exact same unfamiliar men’s cologne on her clothes. Over the next few days, Victoria became suspiciously busy. She claimed she had to work overtime every single night, coming home incredibly late and looking utterly exhausted. She spoke to me even less. Most of our interactions were reduced to a simple hello and goodbye. The smart kettle magically returned to its permanent 99.5 degrees. The Coke and the ice cups in the fridge completely vanished without a trace. Everything seemed to revert to normal, almost as if that afternoon had just been a paranoid hallucination. But I knew the truth. Some things, once cracked, can never be put back together. Like trust. Tonight, she texted me again saying there was an emergency surgery at the hospital and she wouldn’t be home for dinner. Driven by a dark, undeniable impulse, I changed my clothes, grabbed my car keys, and left the apartment. I parked across the street from the hospital, rolled down the window, and lit a cigarette. I had quit smoking three years ago. The first drag burned my lungs. Through the curling smoke, I watched the hospital entrance. I waited for hours. I waited until the cigarette burned down to the filter, yet I still hadn’t seen Victoria. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Maybe I really was just being paranoid. I reached for the ignition, ready to drive home, when a familiar figure suddenly walked into my line of sight. She had taken off her white lab coat and was wearing a beige trench coat, walking shoulder to shoulder with a young man. I recognized him. He was the new surgical assistant in her department. His name was Felix. He was boyish, wearing thick black framed glasses, looking every bit the innocent scholar. When he smiled, deep dimples showed on his cheeks. Victoria tilted her head to listen to him, a remarkably soft smile blooming on her face. It was a smile full of genuine, unfiltered affection. A look I had never once received from her. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I followed them as they turned into a narrow alley beside the hospital. The alley was a famous local night market, packed shoulder to shoulder with noisy crowds and greasy food trucks. I parked the car and quietly trailed them on foot. The alley was deafening, the air thick with heavy cooking oil and the rich scent of spices. I spotted them immediately. They stopped in front of a food truck selling deep fried skewers. Felix was grinning enthusiastically, pointing at the rows of greasy meat and vegetables on the grill. My feet felt like they were nailed to the pavement. I vividly remembered the year we started dating. I had eagerly brought her to this exact same alley. I had said, “Victoria, let’s try this. It looks amazing.” She had frowned, covering her nose and mouth with a tissue, looking at the grill with absolute disgust. “Bennett, do you have any idea where that meat comes from? Do you know how many times that oil has been reused?” “Every single bite is packed with carcinogens.” “I will never eat garbage like this, and I expect you to never bring me to a place like this ever again.” Her words had been a bucket of ice water, completely extinguishing my excitement. From that day on, I never suggested eating street food again. But right now, she was standing there, watching Felix order a massive pile of glistening, oil soaked BBQ skewers. The vendor handed the food to Felix. He grabbed a giant grilled squid and offered it to Victoria like a prized trophy. “Try this! It’s so good!” The squid was dripping with a thick, heavy sauce. I fully expected Victoria to reject him without a second thought, just like she had rejected me. But under Felix’s expectant gaze, she actually opened her mouth and took a massive bite. “It really is.” She smiled as she swallowed it. A bomb went off in my skull. I felt my entire world violently collapse. Seeing her eat it, Felix smiled so hard his eyes crinkled. He naturally reached out with a napkin and gently wiped a smear of sauce from the corner of her lips. And Victoria didn’t pull away. I remembered what happened just two nights ago. I was cooking a simple stir fry, and my hand slipped, pouring a fraction of an ounce too much olive oil into the pan. She took one bite, spat it into a napkin, and dumped the entire plate of food straight into the trash. She had stared at me with eyes made of ice. “Bennett, how many times do I have to tell you? Fat intake must be strictly monitored.” “Do you just ignore everything I say?” “Look at that plate. Are you actively trying to give me high cholesterol?” I had stammered, apologizing over and over again. Looking back now, it was utterly pathetic. She was perfectly willing to swallow greasy street food for another man. Yet she verbally abused me over a single drop of clean olive oil. It turns out her precious rules and health standards were strictly reserved for the people she didn’t love. I have no memory of how I drove back to the apartment. The image of Victoria smiling as she ate that grilled squid played on a torturous loop in my brain. At eleven o’clock, Victoria finally came home. She pushed the door open and paused when she saw the pitch black living room. “Why are the lights off again?” She flipped the switch. The blinding light made me flinch. She took off her shoes and walked closer. She smelled faintly of charcoal smoke, completely intertwined with that unfamiliar men’s cologne. “You’re still awake?” She sat down on the single armchair, as far away from me as possible. “I was waiting for you.” She avoided my gaze, picking up a glass of water from the table. “I told you I had surgery. You didn’t need to wait.” I let out a bitter, raspy laugh. “Did the surgery go well?” “It was fine.” She gave a vague answer, her eyes shifting nervously. I sat up straight and stared directly into her eyes. “You must be exhausted. I hear the grilled squid in the alley next to the hospital is pretty good. Spicy and rich. Do you want me to bring you some next time?” The second the words left my mouth, Victoria’s face drained of all color. The hand holding her glass trembled violently. “Bennett, what exactly are you implying?” Her eyes sharpened into a defensive glare, practically warning me to back off. “I’m not implying anything.” I leaned back against the couch, feeling as if every ounce of energy had been drained from my bones. “Just thought you might want something heavy for a change. Eating clean and bland all the time gets pretty boring.” “Are you tracking me?” She finally asked the question I had been waiting for. She stood up abruptly. “Why are you acting so passive aggressive? Do we not even have basic trust between us anymore?” Trust? My heart violently seized. From the exact moment she let another man shatter all her golden rules, trust was the first thing in this house to die. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Refusing to look at me again, she practically sprinted to the master bedroom and slammed the door shut. I sat in the dark living room until the sun came up. The next morning, she woke up early as usual to get ready for work. We didn’t say a single word to each other. Just as she was about to walk out the door, I called out to her. “Victoria, next Wednesday is our third anniversary.” Her back stiffened. “I remember.” “I booked a table at the restaurant where we had our first date.” She remained silent for a few seconds before turning around, a perfectly crafted look of apology on her face. “I’m sorry, Bennett. The hospital scheduled a mandatory medical seminar that night. I won’t be able to make it.” “Is that so? What a shame.” I replied with a dead, calm voice, while my heart bled out in my chest. Over the next few days, that assistant named Felix began intruding into my life in the most arrogant ways. One afternoon, I received a local courier package. I opened it to find a massive box of spicy junk food and a handwritten note. “Vicky, you said you loved the snacks I gave you last time, so I bought you a whole box!” Staring at that note felt like taking a baseball bat straight to the jaw. When Victoria got home that night, I tossed the box of junk food and the note onto the table right in front of her. “Did your assistant send this?” She glanced at it, her expression entirely neutral. “Oh, Felix is just a kid. He means well. Don’t overthink it.” I laughed in pure disbelief. “Don’t you despise processed food? But when he sends it, suddenly it’s fine?” “Bennett, can you stop being so incredibly sensitive?” Her eyebrows knitted together, her face radiating absolute impatience. “Felix is young. He’s practically a kid fresh out of med school. I can’t believe you’re actually jealous of him. You’re a grown man, why are you picking fights over a child?” There it was again. She defended him at every turn. Every single fault in our marriage was always blamed on my sensitivity and my paranoia. I looked at her, suddenly realizing I was looking at a complete stranger. It was true. Principles were only weapons used against the people you didn’t love. The day of our anniversary arrived. Just as she promised, she left the apartment early in the morning. I sat alone in the empty, quiet house, looking at the elaborate gifts I had prepared for her, feeling like an absolute clown. As the sun began to set, my phone buzzed. It was a text from a mutual friend, containing a screenshot. It was Felix’s social media post. In the photo, Felix and Victoria were wearing overalls and rubber boots, standing in the middle of a muddy field, smiling radiantly.

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1 At a college reunion, my boyfriend, Rhys, called me a worthless idiot in front of all our friends. My best friend, Zoe, couldn’t take it anymore and pulled me aside. “Look, Ava,” she said, her voice low and urgent, “Everyone in our friend group, since we were kids, has thought Rhys treats you like crap. Why are you still so desperate to cling to him?” Huh? Is that really how they all saw us? A torrent of comments flooded my mind, a phantom stream only I could see. 【Don’t listen to them, Ava! He’s just all bark and no bite. He’s totally, completely in love with you!】 【Classic tsundere. He’ll regret losing his temper in a second, but he’s too proud to apologize. He’s probably curled up in a corner somewhere, hating himself right now.】 Zoe pressed on, her words tumbling out in a rush. “He painted a portrait for that protégée he’s known for three months. He takes shots for her at parties. He even knows her damn period schedule, the difference between daytime and overnight pads…” Her eyes locked on mine. “And you? You drove thirty miles through a storm to get him the wrong kind of paintbrush, and this is how he treats you?” In that moment, I finally ignored the screen. And I was certain. Rhys didn’t love me. Returning home, I found Rhys waiting, his eyes red-rimmed. The moment I walked in, he hurled the paintbrush at my face, his voice a raw mix of anger and hurt. “Are you blind? You can’t even tell the difference between a long-handled and a short-handled brush? Are you good for anything besides causing trouble?” He spat the words out. “You’re pathetic, Ava.” The hard edge of the brush split the skin on my forehead. A drop of blood trickled down, and when I touched it, my hand came away stained crimson. Rhys froze. He let out a sharp, cold huff and turned away, his back rigid as he fumbled through the medicine cabinet. Watching his frantic movements, my heart gave a familiar, foolish flutter. 【Aww, he’s definitely panicking inside. The genius of the art world, helpless against his clumsy girl. I’m shipping this so hard.】 【See? He was mad, but the second he saw her hurt, he softened. It’s so cute.】 But the fragile moment was shattered by the ringing of his phone. It was his protégée, Faye. He dropped the first-aid kit without a second thought and grabbed his paint case. “Don’t worry, I’m bringing the pigments over right now,” he said into the phone, his voice suddenly gentle. “You’ll definitely make it for the competition tomorrow.” Before leaving, he tossed a cup of instant noodles onto the counter without looking at me. “Here. Eat this and go to bed. Don’t wait up.” I stared down at the cup. The noodles were a swollen, sticky mess, a few sad, rehydrated carrot bits dotting the congealed surface. I hadn’t eaten all day, my stomach aching with hunger after the long drive to that century-old art supply store thirty miles away, but the sight of the noodles turned it. “I’m not hungry. You should go.” Rhys’s brow furrowed into a deep line. His voice rose, sharp with frustration. “Now you’re playing the victim? Ava, are you a child? Can’t you just make my life easy for once?” 【I can’t with this heroine. She’s supposed to be the one saving him, but all she does is create drama. Does she have any idea what’s actually important?】 【Seriously. Thank God he’s patient enough to deal with her tantrums. This is getting painful to watch.】 I ignored the swirling text. I watched him smooth down his clothes and hurry out the door, his figure shrinking into a small black dot before disappearing at the end of the street. On the easel was an unfinished painting. I used to be the subject. But with Faye’s birthday approaching, he had hastily painted her over my half-finished form. The cut on my forehead throbbed. But I didn’t bother to clean it. I let the blood blur my vision, and then I picked up the brush I’d driven thirty miles for. And snapped it in two. 2 Rhys was never one for words. But the comments told me it was a form of deep, repressed love, and that I was his only salvation. It started in our first art class together. He glanced at the clouds I’d painted and scoffed. “That’s hideous. It looks like a caterpillar.” I was about to snap back when the comments erupted. 【That’s our male lead! A born critic, even as a kid, hahaha.】 【He’s just got a sharp tongue and a soft heart. He fell for her at first sight, you know. He’s dying to grab the brush and teach her himself.】 I blinked, then glanced over at Rhys. He was peeking at me from the corner of his eye. I pouted. “I just don’t have as many supplies as you.” His handsome brows knitted together in a show of impatience. He shoved his palette of expensive paints toward me. “Take them all. It’ll still be ugly.” His harsh, moody behavior continued for years, and for years, it grated on me. Until I was sixteen. I was walking home alone when a stalker lunged from the shadows, his hand clamping over my mouth. I thrashed wildly, but my limbs grew heavy, useless. I felt the rough tear of fabric as he ripped at my dress. Just before I blacked out, I saw a figure fly past. It was Rhys. He threw himself at the attacker. I was safe. When I woke up, I was in a hospital, and he was in the bed next to me. He’d been stabbed in the stomach and had two broken ribs, the bandages stark white against his skin. But his first thought was of me. I started to panic, but he cut me off, his face a blank mask. “Don’t get all sappy. I was just passing by.” He paused, his gaze hardening. “And you should think about why you were targeted. Always trying to look pretty. Maybe now you’ve learned your lesson.” His words were so ugly they stung more than any wound. I froze, a hot prickling behind my eyes. I looked down at myself. It was my birthday, and my mom had bought me a new floral dress. The teachers had even given me permission to wear it instead of my uniform. Was that my fault, too? The comments rushed to his defense. 【He only followed her home because he heard there’d been trouble in the neighborhood lately. He was secretly protecting her.】 【Totally! He was so jealous earlier when he saw the other guys telling her how pretty her dress was.】 【He’s the strong, silent type who shows his love through actions, not words. I’m crying. When will she finally open her eyes and see how much he adores her!】 I looked up, but all I saw was his averted gaze. And the terrible wounds covering his body. From that day on, I set aside my resentment. I started searching for his love in the spaces between the lines of the comments. And occasionally, I thought I caught a glimpse of it. It felt natural when I started to fall for him, and just as natural when we got together. But Rhys was, without a doubt, a genius. He was a once-in-a-generation painter. Geniuses speak to geniuses, and I was just… ordinary. Then he met Faye, his new protégée, and the delicate balance of our relationship shattered. When inspiration struck, he no longer shared it with me first; he’d rush off to find her. When his depressive episodes hit, he’d smash his canvases rather than let me into his studio, yet he made an exception for her, letting her sit with him, comfort him. When he won an award, he would embrace her first, then toss the trophy into my arms like an afterthought. I complained, countless times, but the comments always insisted he only saw her as a kindred spirit. A rare connection between two artists, a meeting of the minds. I wanted to scream, to demand, “What does she have that I don’t?” But that would be undignified. Humiliating. So I struggled, and I swallowed it all, trying to accommodate his moods, his closed-off nature, his rage. But this time, I was just so tired. Staring at the two halves of the broken paintbrush, a symbol of a past we could never return to, I picked up my phone and began to type a text. 3 One text. I wrote it, deleted it, and wrote it again. My fingertips trembled, and I realized my eyes were burning. Just as I was about to hit send, a call came through. It was Rhys. “Ava,” he said. “It’s raining.” 【He’s not talking about the weather, he’s offering an olive branch! Clumsy girl, you have to see it!】 【Oh my god, for someone with his issues, this is a huge step. He’s really trying, I’m gonna cry.】 The comments seemed to think it was an honor for him to even ask me to run an errand for him. In the past, no matter how late, how tired, or how far, I would have dropped everything to go get him. But not this time. “It’s not that bad,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m tired tonight. I don’t feel like picking you up. You can get upstairs on your own.” A few minutes later, I heard a key in the lock. “Don’t just stand there.” Rhys was half-shielding Faye with his body, carefully dabbing the rain from her hair with his sleeve. “Go get a hairdryer. Got no common sense?” Faye tugged on his shirt and offered me a small, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Ava. Rhys is just blunt, he doesn’t mean it. You don’t have to trouble yourself, really, I’m fine.” She continued, her voice sweet and gentle. “We were at the studio so late, and my place is too far to get to before the competition tomorrow. I hope it’s okay if I crash here tonight. I heard you hadn’t eaten, so I brought you some sushi. I hope you don’t mind.” I forced a tight smile and held up a hand. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” The bento box suddenly clattered to the floor, spilling sushi across the wood. It was a chaotic, sticky mess. “Ava, have you had enough?” Rhys’s eyes went cold as he grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin. “Faye was being nice. What the hell is your problem?” Faye’s eyes welled with tears as she whispered, “Rhys, it was my fault, I dropped it…” But her voice was thick with a theatrical sob, as if she were the one deeply wronged. Rhys’s anger flared. He shook my arm off, sending me stumbling backward. I coughed, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Rhys. We’ve been together for seven years. Don’t you remember what I’m allergic to?” He flinched, but his gaze only hardened. He kicked the crushed sushi, sending a piece skidding across the floor to my feet. “You’re just being dramatic, Ava. No princess is born with a princess complex like yours. When you’re hungry, you eat what you can get. You’re just looking for a fight.” The sushi didn’t hurt when it hit my shoe, but I couldn’t stop the tears that threatened to fall. 【He’s dying of guilt right now. He was worried she wouldn’t like the instant noodles, so he specifically asked Faye to bring her dinner, and this is the thanks he gets.】 【This redemption-arc heroine is just an entitled brat. A good partner would be supportive. I feel so bad for him.】 【He’s not good with words, he’s always been like this! Can’t she stop pushing him?】 The comments were a blur of accusations. Ignoring them, I used the sofa to pull myself up and silently started packing a suitcase. Rhys’s fists clenched. He took two steps toward me, but stopped short when Faye let out a small gasp. “Rhys! Your paintbrush… it’s broken. I thought… I thought I was going to get my portrait as a birthday present…” 4 Rhys’s gaze darkened. He lunged forward and seized my shoulders, his fingers digging in painfully. He backed me against the wall. “Ava, what is this supposed to mean?” “There are seventy-nine paintings of you in my studio. Seventy-nine! Why did you have to destroy this one? The one for her birthday? Were you trying to humiliate her?” “First, you buy the wrong brush on purpose, and now you break it. You’re suffocating me, Ava.” My hands stilled. I lifted my head and met his furious eyes. “Is that who you think I am? Sensitive, fragile… petty?” Rhys’s lips formed a tight line. His eyes flickered away for a second, and he took a quick step back, creating distance between us. His gaze fell on the first-aid kit on the floor. He hesitated, almost moving toward it. 【He’s so sweet. Even in a fight, he’s still worried about her cut.】 【His voice is cracking. He regrets what he said. I feel like he’s about to shatter. Can’t she just hug him? Give in a little?】 But I couldn’t understand it anymore. And I didn’t want to. I quietly zipped up my suitcase. “Rhys, let’s break up.” The air in the room went still. Rhys’s back stiffened. He turned his head slowly, his expression one of disbelief. “…What did you say?” A flicker of triumph crossed Faye’s face before she hid behind him, her voice a fragile whisper. “Was it me? Am I making you angry by staying here? I’ll leave right now, I won’t be a bother, I’m so sorry…” “Don’t be scared. You’re staying. This has nothing to do with you,” Rhys said, his hand automatically going to her hair to soothe her. Then his face hardened as he turned back to me, his voice low and dangerous. “Ava, you know I don’t like jokes. And I hate it when people use ‘breaking up’ as a threat. If you walk out that door, there’s no coming back for us.” My nails dug into my palms. I nodded, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. “Okay. This is it, then.” Rhys’s pupils constricted, his shoulders trembling slightly. “Then you’d better have some pride. Get out. And don’t come crawling back when you’re lost in the middle of the night, begging me to pick you up.” The comments went into a frenzy. 【This is killing me. Stop saying the opposite of what you mean! You’re begging her to stay!】 【Hello? A difficult person needs a partner who won’t be pushed away. This is all Ava’s fault for not being the ‘little sun’ she’s supposed to be.】 Their accusations felt like a physical weight, pressing down on me. But I still didn’t understand. How could love be this cold? This volatile? How could it be built on insults and disdain? I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, pulled open the door, and shut it firmly behind me, leaving Rhys on the other side. 【I can’t take it anymore. What kind of redemption-arc heroine is this? She’s dancing on his grave.】 【Right? She knows all his triggers and pokes them just to hurt him. What’s the difference between her and some shrew from the market? Can we tell the writers to replace her with Faye?】 【I second that. Faye is sweet, obedient, and she actually understands him. They’re soulmates.】 I ignored their condemnation. Dragging my suitcase, I walked down flight after flight of stairs, and finally stepped out into the pouring rain.

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1 With gold prices on the rise, I bought a kilogram brick on a business trip and mailed it home. But when the courier arrived for the cash-on-delivery payment, he told me the package was ten kilograms and the shipping fee was ten times the original quote. I hefted the box. I had him test it, too. It was nowhere near ten kilos. His only reply was, “My estimate isn’t accurate.” I pointed to the digital scale right beside the door. He waved it off impatiently. “I only go by what the system says.” Fine. I paid the fee, signed for it, and closed the door. Then, I took out my phone and started recording. “Hello, I insured a shipment of 10 kilograms of gold but only received 1 kilogram. How do I file a claim?” … “The shipping fee is fifty dollars. Please scan to pay.” The courier dangled the QR code in front of my face. I didn’t rush to pay. “Sir, I had this weighed when I shipped it. It was only one kilogram.” “The system says ten.” He couldn’t be bothered to argue, just tapped his screen to show me the number. I smiled and pulled up a video on my own phone. “You see? This is the recording from when I packed it. The scale shows 1.02 kilograms. The timestamp matches, too.” He glanced at it, his expression unchanged. “That’s your scale. Our system says ten.” “Don’t you find a tenfold difference a little suspicious?” “I just deliver. I don’t investigate.” He shoved a stylus at me, his voice dripping with annoyance. “Are you signing or not? If not, I’m taking it back. I have a hundred other stops to make; I don’t have time for this.” I sized him up. He was in his thirties, with the tanned, weathered skin of someone who spent their days on the road. “I purchased full insurance.” At those words, he paused for a fraction of a second. “Insurance is insurance. Shipping is shipping. Two different things.” “Then I’m only willing to pay the fee for the actual weight, which should be five dollars.” “Not happening.” “Why not?” “Because that’s what the system says.” I took a deep breath and, with him watching, dialed the customer service number. He finally looked up, a smirk playing on his lips. “Call whoever you want.” I sat through three rounds of automated menus before finally reaching a human. I explained the situation. After a few seconds of silence, the agent replied. “Ma’am, our system data is entered at the point of pickup. If you have a dispute about the weight, you can file a claim within 48 hours of signing for the package.” “So you’re saying I have to pay the fifty dollars first?” “Yes.” I looked at the courier. He pushed the stylus toward me again. “Sign. Don’t waste my time.” Standing in my doorway, holding that stylus, the whole situation felt absurd. A package that was obviously one kilogram, and he was insisting it was ten. “Fine.” I started a new video recording on my phone. I took the package, signed my name, scanned the code, and paid the fifty dollars. The courier let out a dismissive snort, then pocketed his device and the receipt and left without a backward glance. The moment the elevator doors closed, I locked my door. I carried the package to the coffee table, carefully filming every angle, zooming in on the label where “10.0kg” was printed in bold. Then, I opened my laptop and pulled up my order details. Insured item: Gold Bar. Declared value: $150,000. Insurance coverage: $450,000. Taking a deep breath, I turned the camera on myself. “My name is Nina Lin, sender and recipient. I purchased full insurance for this package. The contents are gold, and the system weight is recorded as 10 kilograms. The package has now arrived.” I picked up a pair of scissors and slowly sliced through the packing tape. Keeping the box in the frame the entire time, I pulled out the bubble-wrapped contents and placed them on my digital scale. 1.02 kilograms. “The waybill shows 10 kilograms, but the actual weight received is 1 kilogram. I am submitting this unboxing video as evidence to file an insurance claim.” I stopped the recording, saved two copies—one to the cloud, one to my hard drive—and opened the customer service chat. I uploaded the video and all my documentation. Then I typed one final message: “I shipped 10 kilograms of gold and received only 1 kilogram. I am filing a claim for the insured value.” After sending it, I sank onto the sofa and started scrolling through videos on my phone. Less than fifteen minutes later, a system notification popped up. “Hello, your complaint has been logged. We will respond within 48 hours. Please be patient.” I smiled at the message. I had plenty of patience. After all, besides the inflated shipping fee, I hadn’t lost anything. But a 9-kilogram shortfall on an insured gold shipment? That was their problem. 2 I didn’t expect them to drag it out for two full days. When the message finally came, it was a masterclass in corporate deflection. “Dear Valued Customer, upon review, our company has confirmed that your package weight is consistent with the data recorded in our pickup system. The data is accurate. If you have further questions, we advise you to contact the sender for verification. Thank you for your understanding.” I read the message three times. I was the sender. I was also the recipient. They were telling me to contact myself. Taking a deep breath, I called the customer service line again. “Hello, you’ve reached agent 4317. How can I help you?” “Hi, my phone number is associated with a complaint filed two days ago regarding a weight dispute and an insurance claim.” “One moment, let me look that up for you.” The sound of clacking keys went on for a while. “Ma’am, I see here that your complaint has been resolved.” “Resolved? What about my claim?” “The system shows the weight was correct, therefore the claim is invalid.” “The system shows 10 kilograms, and I received 1 kilogram. How is that correct?” “Ma’am, please don’t get upset. Our system data wouldn’t…” “I know all about your system data! I have a video of the weigh-in from when I packed it. I have screenshots of the insurance purchase. The time, location, and weight all line up perfectly!” The line went quiet for a few seconds. “Ma’am, my authority here is limited. Would you like me to transfer you to a regional customer manager?” “Yes.” I knew it wasn’t her fault; I didn’t want to waste any more time with a script-reader. “Hello, Ms. Lin? This is Mr. Leighton from the East Coast Customer Management department.” His voice was older, polished, the sound of someone who had handled countless calls like this. “Mr. Leighton, you should have my case file.” “I do, I do. It was sent right up.” “Alright, Ms. Lin, let me explain. To process an insurance claim, you need to provide proof of loss. You say you shipped 10 kilograms of gold. Do you have a receipt for that purchase?” I didn’t answer. It was faint, but I heard a soft chuckle on his end. “Ms. Lin, I’ve been in this business for seven years. I’ve seen situations like yours more times than I can count. People ship something worth a few bucks, buy a massive insurance policy, and then claim something went missing.” “I’m not saying this is you, of course. But that sort of thing constitutes fraud.” My fingers tightened around the phone. “Are you accusing me of fraud?” “I didn’t say that. I’m simply stating a fact. Without proof of purchase for the gold, your claim will not be approved.” “Then what about your system changing a 1-kilogram package to 10 kilograms and overcharging me for shipping?” “What ‘change’? The system entry is 10 kilograms. Maybe you added something to the box after you packed it? What does your little video prove? For all we know, you could have tossed a couple of bricks in there after you stopped filming.” A hot spike of anger shot through my temples. “Mr. Leighton, I have evidence for every single step of this process. I suggest you handle this matter with care.” His tone shifted, becoming slick with condescension. “Ms. Lin, I’ve been around this block more times than you’ve had hot dinners. If you really think you have a case, feel free to take us to court. Or complain to whoever you want. Is that all?” Click. He hung up. I was gripping my phone so tightly my knuckles were white. Thankfully, I had the call recorder running. Before I could even put the phone down, it buzzed again with an unknown number. “Is this Nina Lin?” The voice was familiar. It was the courier. “Did you file a complaint against me?” I didn’t answer. “Listen to me carefully. You’d better withdraw that complaint, and fast. If you don’t, every package you ever get is going to be held up. You can come down to the depot and pick them up yourself.” “Is that a threat?” “I’m giving you some friendly advice. A woman living all by herself… I know what time you leave, what time you get back. Don’t make trouble for yourself.” The call was still recording. “Are you finished?” “Withdraw the complaint.” I hung up. Fury, cold and sharp, washed over me. My hand holding the phone wouldn’t stop shaking. I sat on the sofa, exported the two audio files from today, and organized them into a folder with all my other evidence. Then I picked up my phone and dialed 911. “Hello, I’d like to report a crime.” 3 The officer who took my report, Officer Davis, asked for my address and the basic details, then told me to bring my evidence to the local precinct to make a statement. I tossed the flash drive and my phone into my bag and headed out. I had just pulled out of my parking spot when a group of men blocked my car. The one in the lead was wearing the dark blue uniform of the courier company. I recognized the courier, Rick, instantly. “What do you think you’re doing?” His expression flickered, then hardened into a scowl. “Are you going to withdraw the complaint or not?” I ignored him and started to steer around them. He darted in front of my car again, blocking my path. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m asking you a simple question. Are you withdrawing the complaint!?” As I turned the wheel again, a short, stocky man with a crew cut stepped up and rapped on my driver-side window. “Easy there, sister. Rick just wants to have a little chat.” I clutched my phone, the video camera already recording. “Move!” Rick let out a derisive laugh. “A woman like you, was it really worth it? You got me fined five hundred bucks and cost me my bonus. Are you happy now?” “Why should I have to pay over a hundred dollars extra?” “It was your package, you should pay for it!” The men around him snickered. I stopped talking and just hit the gas, trying to get away. This time, they swarmed the car, completely surrounding it. The man with the crew cut squatted down, took a picture of my license plate, and sent it to someone. Rick lit a cigarette, then casually raised a tire iron. BANG. He brought it down hard on the hood of my car. I jumped, shrinking back in my seat and frantically checking that the doors were locked. CRUNCH! SMASH! Rick stepped back to finish his cigarette while the other men took turns beating on my car. I fumbled with my phone and dialed 911 again, quickly giving them the address and telling them I was being attacked. The response was faster than I expected; two officers were already patrolling nearby. “Police! Don’t move!” Rick’s cigarette dropped from his mouth. He spun around, and his face went sheet-white when he saw the uniforms. Another man, who had been wielding a steel pipe, was so startled he dropped it on his own foot with a yelp. “It wasn’t me!” Rick stammered. “I was just standing here having a smoke.” “All of you, up against the wall. IDs out.” As the four men were being detained, I looked at my car. It was a wreck. Officer Davis looked from the mangled vehicle to the video on my phone, his expression grim. “Ms. Lin, let’s go inside so you can make a full statement.” The deposition took nearly two hours. I laid out everything, from the 10-kilogram package to the attack in the parking lot, in chronological order. And for every point, I had a corresponding photo, audio recording, or document. “We’ve confirmed the vandalism,” Officer Davis said. “We caught them in the act, and the exit of your parking garage has a security camera. They’re not getting away with this.” “The courier said he didn’t do anything, but he was the one who started it!” “Don’t you worry about that, Ms. Lin. The camera doesn’t lie.” It was dark by the time I left the precinct. My car had been towed to a repair shop. Late that night, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered. “Ms. Lin. This is Mr. Leighton.” “I heard about what happened today. Perhaps we could talk?” 4 The doorbell rang at two o’clock the next afternoon. Two men stood outside my door. Mr. Leighton was shorter than I’d imagined. Beside him was a man in glasses holding a briefcase. “Ms. Lin, this is our legal counsel, Mr. Cole.” I opened the door a little wider but didn’t invite them in. Leighton didn’t seem to mind. He smiled and stepped aside. “We can talk here. I’ll be direct. What Rick and his friends did yesterday was out of line. The company is deeply sorry.” Mr. Cole pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to me. “Ms. Lin, this is the settlement agreement the company has prepared. Please take a look.” I took the single sheet of paper. The terms were neatly typed. 1. Compensation for all vehicle repair costs, based on receipts. 2. Refund of the overcharged shipping fee of $45. 3. $750 for emotional distress. 4. Nina Lin will sign a non-disclosure agreement and withdraw all police reports and customer service complaints. 5. Both parties will waive any further claims against each other. I handed the paper back. “$750?” “With the car repairs, the total amount is quite substantial,” Leighton said, his voice smooth and gentle. “And Rick?” “He’s received an internal reprimand and will be transferred to a suburban depot next month.” “Not fired?” “Ms. Lin, we’re all adults here. Rick’s not having an easy time. His wife just had a baby. Try to have some sympathy. We’re all just ordinary people trying to get by.” He folded his hands in front of him, bowing slightly. “Honestly, Ms. Lin, while Rick was certainly at fault yesterday, your attitude was, how should I put it, a little… confrontational. You provoked him. If everyone takes a step back, we can all move on.” “My attitude was confrontational, so he smashed my car.” “No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Leighton said, waving his hands dismissively. “I’m just saying, let’s meet in the middle. For a young woman like you, dragging this through the courts is time-consuming. And if the media gets hold of it, it could be damaging to your reputation.” I didn’t like his choice of words. “Let me get this straight, Mr. Leighton. Your system changes 1 kilogram to 10 and overcharges me nearly nine times the fee. I complain, and your customer service says the system is correct. I call you, and you accuse me of insurance fraud. I call the police, and your courier and his friends vandalize my car right outside the precinct. And now you’re offering me $750 to sign an NDA?” “Plus the vehicle repairs,” Mr. Cole added. “The car repairs are something you owe me regardless. That’s not compensation.” Leighton’s smile finally tightened. “Ms. Lin, I can fire Rick. Give you that satisfaction.” “I think that’s not enough.” “Then what do you want?” “If you had refunded my shipping fee at the beginning, this would be over. But now my personal safety has been threatened.” The hallway was silent for a moment. Leighton straightened up, the last shred of politeness vanishing from his face. “Think this through, Ms. Lin. If this goes to court, it might not end well for you. That insurance claim of yours will never be approved, no matter what. And filing a false claim has consequences.” He took the settlement agreement, folded it, and slipped it into his pocket before turning to leave with the lawyer. “Don’t be rash, kid.” The elevator doors closed. At eleven that night, my best friend, Sophie, sent me a text. “Nina, you need to see this.” It was a heavily edited video. The caption read: “Woman Ships 1kg of Fakes, Tries to Claim 10kg of Gold in Insurance Scam.” The comments were already in the thousands. “Classic grifter.” “Do you know how hard delivery guys work? People like her are disgusting.” “Another one trying to get rich off insurance fraud.” “Hope the company reports her to the police.” The account that posted it was called “A Day in the Life of a Courier,” with a cartoon delivery guy as the profile picture. It had been posted two hours ago and already had over a million views. My phone started vibrating. An unknown number. Then another. And another. A text came through: “Nina Lin, you live at [My Address], right? You scamming bitch.” Sophie called me, her voice frantic. “Nina, are you okay? I’m coming over. We can record a video to clear your name. I was there when you packed and weighed it. I can be your witness.” I sat on the sofa, my phone buzzing incessantly in my hand. “Don’t.” “What?” Sophie’s voice rose. “You’re not going to fight back? Do you see what they’re saying in the comments?!” “I see it.” “Then why…?” “Let them. The bigger the spectacle, the better.” Sophie was quiet for a few seconds. “What are you planning, Nina?” I didn’t answer her. Instead, I scrolled through my contacts to a number I had saved years ago but never once called. My thumb hovered over it for a moment, then I pressed down. “…Nina?” The voice on the other end was calm, but with a clear note of surprise. I took a deep breath. “Aaron. I need your help.”

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1 The night I caught my husband hooking up with my best friend, I had just gotten back from picking up my son and grabbing groceries on a battered bicycle. Clothes were violently scattered across the living room floor. Dripping wet in my cheap raincoat, I walked right into them cuddling on the leather sofa in the afterglow. The smell of the discount store spaghetti and meatballs in my hands couldn’t mask the heavy scent of sex filling the room. My son rushed forward. He practically jumped up and down, screaming his lungs out to welcome his new mommy. I lost my mind. I hurled the bags of meatballs right at their naked bodies. But no matter how hysterical I got, Chuck remained deadpan. He forced me out of the house with absolutely nothing to my name. His excuse was simple. They already had a baby on the way. Seven years later, I finally returned to Bayview. Walking out of the luxury mall restroom, I bumped right into a ghost from the past. “Maureen? Is that really you?” Chuck’s face lit up like he had struck gold. He stepped right into my personal space. “Where on earth have you been all these years?” I froze. Of all the places in this massive city, the universe just had to throw this sick joke at me. Seeing my silence, Chuck didn’t even have the decency to feel awkward. He just kept talking. “You vanished into thin air after the divorce. I looked everywhere for you.” “Someone finally told me you left Bayview entirely.” He paused, softening his gaze into something sickeningly gentle. “You look stunning. How have you been treating yourself?” “Look, I blame myself. I was young, arrogant. I shouldn’t have made you leave with nothing.” Hearing him gloss over that absolute nightmare made my stomach churn. “Mr. CEO, I’ve been doing just fine. You really don’t need to lose sleep over me.” He blinked, then let out a forced, bitter chuckle. “Maureen, I know you hate my guts.” “What happened back then… I just couldn’t control my feelings for her. My hands were tied.” “But honestly, all these years, I never forgot everything you did for our home.” He reached into a bright orange shopping bag and pulled out a jacket he had just bought, holding it out to me. “I’ve always felt guilty, but I never knew how to make it right.” “Take this. It’s freezing out there.” I stared at the hideous, clearance rack jacket and my lips twitched. “I’m good, Chuck. Really.” His eyes swept up and down my body. He stubbornly shoved the fabric against my chest. “Just take it. Sienna has a closet full of these anyway.” “It’s not a designer piece or anything, but I bet it still costs more than your rent.” I paused and looked down at my outfit. I wasn’t wearing a custom tailored suit with a massive luxury logo. I had on a slightly frayed gray knit sweater. I also smelled heavily of expensive bourbon from a brutal networking dinner I had just left. I suppose I did look like a pathetic corporate slave grinding away for pennies. Seeing that I wasn’t putting it on, he sighed heavily. “You haven’t been back once. Noah misses you, you know.” Hearing my son’s name made me scoff. I finally gave him a real reaction. “Isn’t he living the dream with his brand new mommy?” Chuck let out a soft laugh. “See? I knew you still cared about him.” A wave of absolute disgust washed over me. Before I could tell him off, Chuck kept rambling. “He was just a kid back then. Kids say stupid things when they’re mad. But you’re his biological mother. He talks about you all the time.” “He just thinks you abandoned him because you never reached out.” He took a breath. “Come over to the house when you have time. See Noah. We can put the past behind us and catch up like adults.” I laughed out loud. “Wouldn’t your wife have a problem with that?” Right on cue, a sickly sweet voice echoed behind me. “Why would I? You’re my absolute best friend.” “It’s been so long, babe. I missed you to death.” 2 I turned around. Sienna was strutting toward me, dripping in designer logos and carrying a dozen shopping bags. Her pregnant belly was obvious. She threw an arm over my shoulder with fake intimacy and rested her head against me. “Oh, Maureen. You just up and left after the divorce. You didn’t even look back to check on your oldest friends.” She let go of me and locked her arm around Chuck’s elbow instead. “Since we ran into each other, you have to come over.” “Plus, I’m pregnant with my second baby! I’m due soon. We should totally have dinner to celebrate.” I subtly wiped the cheap foundation she left on my shoulder. “I’ll pass. I have places to be.” “Oh, stop being so shy! It’s just dinner.” Sienna blocked my path. “Honestly, I always felt super bad about what happened.” “But Chuck and I are soulmates. True love wins, you know? I’m sorry you had to be the collateral damage.” “We can definitely afford to treat you to a nice meal. Looks like you could use some real food anyway.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Chuck on the cheek. “Right, honey?” Chuck went rigid, but he awkwardly patted her head and turned to convince me. “She’s right, Maureen. We hired a new private chef. Let’s just have one meal together.” I thought for a second. The real reason I returned to Bayview flashed in my mind. I decided to play along. “Sure. Let’s go.” Sienna’s smile cracked. A flash of dark annoyance crossed her face, but she forced her plastic grin back into place. Chuck, on the other hand, looked thrilled. He eagerly led the way out. A sleek Range Rover was parked by the entrance. Chuck hopped into the driver’s seat. Sienna slid into the passenger side, throwing me a smug, victorious look through the window. I got into the back seat, finding the whole thing completely hilarious. She really didn’t need to flex so hard. Back when Chuck and I were actually married, he never let me sit in the passenger seat either. My only mode of transportation used to be that rusty little bicycle. Rain, shine, sleet, or snow. Whether I was buying groceries or picking up our son, that bicycle was all I had. I used to beg Chuck to buy me a cheap used car. Anything with four doors and a heater. We had the money. A decent used sedan would have cost a few grand and saved me from freezing to death on the winter roads. But Chuck always said it was a waste of cash. He claimed I was a terrible driver and that traffic was too bad anyway. He gaslit me into thinking the bicycle was a privilege. But I had a pristine driving record. I even used to race on amateur tracks before we got married. He just didn’t want to spend a dime on me. Then, I watched him buy Sienna a hundred thousand dollar sports car. When she totaled it rear ending someone, he dropped everything, ran to the scene, and bought her a brand new one the next day. That was the day I realized he didn’t think a car was a waste of money. He just thought I wasn’t worth it. Memories flooded my mind until the SUV pulled up to the house I used to call home. Chuck knocked on the door. It swung open, revealing a face pale with shock. “Mom?” 3 I locked eyes with Noah. Seven years had passed. The little toddler who hadn’t even started kindergarten was now a lanky teenager drowning in a private school uniform. “Come on in.” Chuck eagerly placed a pair of guest slippers at my feet. As I stepped inside, Noah nervously backed away. I ignored him. I sat on the sofa and looked around. The interior was mostly the same, but the vibe was entirely corrupted. Expensive women’s coats overflowed on the coat rack. Bright plastic toys littered the hardwood floors. The room I had originally painted and prepped for Noah now had a baby gate across the door. A little boy, maybe five or six, came crashing through it holding a plastic sword. He sprinted straight at Chuck. “Daddy! Look at my castle!” He bulldozed through the living room, knocking over decorative vases and kicking toys out of his way. Noah silently crouched on the floor, picking up the mess. As his sleeve rode up, I noticed faint, fresh scratches on his forearm. I knew exactly what the situation was. This kid was the baby Sienna was carrying when she blew up my marriage. The baby that made Chuck force me out onto the streets. Sienna’s overly sweet voice drifted from the hallway. “Toby just worships his dad.” She rubbed her pregnant belly, looking at the father and son with pure adoration. Meanwhile, Noah, the boy who used to scream for his new mommy, was left kneeling in the dust. My face remained blank. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. The chef brought out the food. Chuck pried Toby off his leg and gestured for me to sit. The silver lids were lifted, revealing thick clouds of steam. Toby immediately started screaming. He wanted the Wagyu beef. He wanted the king crab. He hoarded half the massive pot onto his tiny plate before anyone else could even pick up a fork. Chuck shot me a nervous look, his ego taking a hit. “Toby, finish what you have first. Where are your manners?” Sienna just laughed and piled more meat onto Chuck’s plate. “Oh, relax. He’s just a growing boy. It doesn’t matter.” She grabbed Chuck’s hand and placed it on her stomach. “I bet the little guy in here is going to be just as wild as his big brother.” Chuck’s scowl instantly melted away. Amidst their picture perfect family moment, Noah finally reached out with his chopsticks to grab a single crab leg from the pot. The second he did, a heavy serving spoon slammed down on his wrist, knocking the crab onto the floor. Toby stood on his chair, screaming at the top of his lungs. “That’s my house’s food! You’re a beggar! You don’t get to eat!” Noah’s hand trembled violently. A bright red welt swelled on his skin. Chuck’s face went dark. “Toby! Do not treat your brother like that!” Toby shrieked back. “He’s not my brother! My mom didn’t make him! He’s the son of that ugly bitch!” Dead silence fell over the dining room. I slowly turned my head and stared dead into Chuck’s eyes. His face turned the color of bruised plum. He raised his hand, ready to strike the kid. “You little brat! Is that how you speak in front of me?” Before the slap could connect, Sienna caught his wrist. She giggled softly. “Oh, Chuck, stop. Boys will be boys. They just play rough.” She threw a sideways glance at me. “Maureen is a big girl. She’s not going to get offended by a toddler, right?” Noah looked at me with pure terror in his eyes. Chuck was sweating, watching my expression. I didn’t say a word. I just calmly picked up my crystal glass and took a sip of water. Seeing my absolute indifference, Noah finally broke. His voice cracked with a suppressed sob. “Mom…” Sienna cut him off immediately. “Alright, Noah, that’s enough whining. Get on your knees and clean up the food you dropped.” Noah slowly crouched down. His skinny frame shook as he picked up the dirty crab leg from the floor. “Yes, Aunt Sienna.” Behind him, Toby stuck his tongue out and danced around victoriously. Sienna chuckled again, dropping an overcooked piece of beef into my bowl. “Kids are just so chaotic. Don’t be shy, Maureen. Eat up.” “Chuck is so unoriginal. He just buys me the most expensive ingredients to keep me healthy. We eat this luxury stuff every single day. Honestly, I’m getting sick of it.” I pushed the bowl away. “I’m full. My business partners forced me to eat lobster and caviar earlier, and the bourbon hasn’t settled yet.” Sienna’s smug smile froze. Her face twisted into something ugly. It took her a long time to put her fork down. She forced out a dry laugh. “Right. You must be working so hard. Hustling everyday, begging clients for pennies.” “Not like me. Chuck spoils me rotten. I don’t even have to leave the house. If I point at something, he buys it.” Her eyes drifted down to my frayed sweater, and she actually let out a snort. “Your boss is terrible, though. Letting you work yourself to the bone and paying you peanuts. Walking into a client meeting looking like a homeless person? No wonder you have to drink so much to close a deal.” She stood up, walked into her bedroom, and came back with a stack of outdated, gaudy neon dresses. “Here. Take these. They’re old season, but they are a million times better than the rags you’re wearing.” She forcefully shoved the pile into my lap. “Take them. We’ve known each other for over a decade. Consider it charity.” I didn’t even blink. I shoved the pile right back off my lap, brushed the lint off my sweater, and smiled. “No thanks. My family knitted this for me. It keeps me warm.” Chuck’s face drained of all color. “Maureen… what are you talking about? Your parents died the same year we got divorced.” 4 The temperature in the room dropped below freezing. I clenched my fists under the table. The one memory I wanted to bury forever started playing on an endless loop in my mind. It was raining outside. Just like it was seven years ago. I was wearing that suffocating plastic raincoat. Massive raindrops felt like stones hitting my shoulders. Bags of cheap groceries dangled precariously from the handlebars. Noah was hiding behind my back. The plastic visor of my helmet was blurred by the storm. I wobbled through the aggressive city traffic on that dying bicycle. A massive truck blew past us, spraying a tidal wave of filthy street water directly into my face. I swerved, lost control, and slammed right into the metal guardrail. Mud soaked through my clothes. The groceries flew into the dirty puddle. I panicked, scrambling to check on Noah. Thank God my maternal instincts kicked in and I had shielded him with my body before we hit the ground. Cars behind us blared their horns. Blocks of tofu were crushed into white mush on the asphalt. I was on my hands and knees, desperately trying to salvage whatever food wasn’t ruined. Noah stood on the sidewalk under an awning. He didn’t come to help. He just stared at me like I was a diseased rat. When I finally scraped everything together, only one sealed bag of cheap veggie meatballs had survived. I dragged the heavy bicycle upright, shoved the meatballs into my pocket, and waved for Noah to get back on. He reluctantly crawled under the back of my raincoat, muttering loud enough for me to hear over the rain. “Why do you always pick me up? Why can’t Dad and Aunt Sienna do it? They have cool cars.” He shifted uncomfortably against my wet back. “You ride this piece of junk and carry stinky groceries. Everyone at school is laughing at me. I’m so embarrassed.” Every single word pierced straight through my heart. My soaking wet clothes clung to my freezing skin. The rain slashed against my face, and I blinked hard to keep the tears from falling. I didn’t yell. I didn’t defend myself. I just gripped the handlebars and focused on getting him home alive. I thought to myself, Once we get home, it’ll be fine. Once we get home, I can take a hot shower. I can cook a warm meal for my family. But when I dragged my exhausted body through the front door, there was no warmth waiting for me. There was only the heavy stench of sex and clothes littered everywhere. The shock paralyzed me. I stumbled blindly into the living room. On the expensive leather sofa I had saved up to buy, Chuck was buried deep in Sienna. They were completely naked, except for Sienna wearing my silk nightgown wrapped around her neck. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare. A guttural, shattered scream ripped out of my throat. But even then, my very first instinct was to turn around and cover Noah’s eyes. I didn’t want my baby to see this trauma. Instead, he violently shoved me away. He sprinted toward the two naked adults, clapping his hands in pure joy. “Daddy! You finally brought Aunt Sienna home! Does this mean she’s my new mommy now?” I stopped breathing. The floor vanished beneath me. Chuck didn’t even have the shame to cover up. He laughed, reached out, and ruffled Noah’s hair. “That’s right, buddy. You always wanted a pretty, nice mom, right? Aunt Sienna is your new mom now.” He grabbed Noah’s little hand and placed it on Sienna’s flat stomach. “Look. Your new mommy already has your baby brother in here. We’re going to be a real family.” Noah jumped up and down, absolutely ecstatic. “Yes! Yes! I’m getting a brother and a new mom!” He turned around and pointed his little finger right at my face. “I don’t want this broken mom anymore. She’s ugly, she’s old, and she makes me look like a loser!” And Sienna. The girl who had been my best friend since high school. The girl who stood next to me at my wedding. Twelve years of sisterhood. She laughed, pinched his cheek, and looked right into my eyes. “That’s right, baby. I’m your mommy now.” Something inside my brain just snapped. I pulled the bag of veggie meatballs out of my pocket and hurled it at their faces with everything I had. They scattered across the expensive rug. I threw myself at them like a rabid dog. I swung my fists wildly, but I was so weak from the cold that my punches felt like nothing. The next second, Chuck grabbed my shoulders and violently threw me backward. My spine slammed directly into the sharp edge of the glass coffee table.

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On the fifth round of IVF, I was finally pregnant with Marcus’s child. When I ecstatically showed him the positive test results, Marcus suddenly said, “Actually, your student, Melissa, and I… we already have twins.” The world tilted, the color draining from my face. But Marcus looked at me, his expression earnest. “Do you know why your first few IVF attempts failed? Because Melissa didn’t want you to suffer, so she secretly intervened.” “She was willing to carry my children for you. How could I deny her and our sons a family?” “And now you’re pregnant too. So, you can either accept this calmly and give our child a complete family, not to mention a respectable father.” “Or, you can make a scene, become a broke, single mother with no one to rely on.” “The choice is yours.” After he left, I sat in the dark for the entire night. And then, I made a third choice. 1 Marcus left in a hurry. “Melissa heard you’re pregnant. She’s terrified I’m going to abandon her. I need to go check on her,” he said, his voice laced with a false sense of duty. “I know you must be a wreck right now, so I’ll give you some space to think things over.” I sat on the balcony, the cold night wind whipping around me, until dawn. When he returned in the morning, carrying breakfast, I asked him a single question. “Can you treat us both fairly?” Marcus was taken aback for a second, then gave a weary smile. “My thing with Melissa… it started as a drunken mistake. But it turned out we were just… incredibly compatible.” “You and I tried for so long, and nothing. With her, it happened the first time.” “Melissa is a kind soul. She was so worried you’d be heartbroken that she secretly went to get an abortion.” “If I hadn’t stumbled upon the hospital bill, I would never have known that child even existed.” “After the procedure, she was consumed by guilt and fell into a deep depression. Her doctor said the baby was the root of her trauma.” He paused, looking at me cautiously. My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “So, to make it up to her, you had twins with her.” “Well, that’s part of it. Mostly, she knew how much the IVF was taking out of you. She didn’t want you to suffer anymore.” “Besides,” he said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather, “a child is a child. Whether she gives birth or you do, they carry my blood. It makes no difference.” “With Melissa, I feel a mix of pity and gratitude. But no matter what, she can’t compare to the eight years you’ve spent by my side.” He took my hand, his touch as gentle as the day he proposed, his eyes swimming with feigned devotion. “Anya, I’m not asking you to accept her. Just turn a blind eye to my other family, and I promise, she will never overstep her bounds.” “You will always be Mrs. Blackwell. Of course I can treat you both fairly.” I gently pulled my hand away and produced the agreement I’d prepared. “Just in case. Sign it.” Marcus glanced at it, raising an eyebrow. “One instance of favoritism costs me a hundred thousand dollars?” I pointed to the addendum. “That’s the base price. The final amount for emotional damages will be determined by the severity of your bias. No upper limit.” “Marcus,” I said, meeting his gaze. “Do you dare sign it?” 2 Marcus chuckled softly. “If it gives you peace of mind.” He signed his name with a confident flourish. “Anya, I do love you.” “As long as you don’t cause trouble for Melissa, I’ll try to spend more time with you.” I felt a wave of dizziness. Marcus and I were college sweethearts. I was with him when he went from bankrupt and drowning in debt to staging a stunning comeback. We lived in a cramped basement apartment, scavenged for leftover vegetables at the market. We’d split a single bagel, and I’d always give him the bigger half. I wore the same old clothes for years, saving every penny to buy him decent suits for his business meetings. He used to be so good to me. No matter how exhausted he was, he’d always cook me noodles when I came home from a late shift. No matter how busy, he set aside one day a week just for me. He said I was his motivation, that everything he did was for me. One year, on our anniversary, he was stuck out of town on business. He felt guilty about it for months. But now, spending time with me was a reward to be doled out. The thought was devastating. And after the devastation came a profound, crushing weariness. Marcus didn’t notice a thing. His voice held the arrogant tone of a benefactor. “I’ll stay and have breakfast with you today.” He took a breakfast burrito out of a paper bag and handed me a freshly made cup of oatmeal. “Here. From that cart near campus. Your old favorite.” I sighed and reached for it. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at me and answered it on speaker. “Daddy! Daddy!” a child’s voice chirped from the other end. A smile bloomed on Marcus’s face. “What’s wrong, buddy? Is Mommy awake yet?” “Mommy’s sick! She’s crying!” The smile vanished from Marcus’s face. “Stay right there. I’m on my way.” He grabbed his car keys and bolted. The cup of oatmeal tipped over, spilling onto my skirt. It scalded my leg, leaving a painful red welt. He never even looked back. As I was treating the burn, he called. “Melissa is such a silly girl. She didn’t want to bother you, so she tried to hide being sick. I can’t leave her alone. I’ll stay here today to take care of her. You can go to your prenatal check-up by yourself, right?” I looked at the blistered skin on my thigh. I wasn’t surprised. And before I even had a chance to feel sad, he hung up. I sat there for a moment. Then I took a picture of my leg and sent it to him. [Your scales weren’t balanced. Compensation for distress plus medical fees, total $180,000.] A long time passed, so long I thought he hadn’t seen the message. Then, the notification sound for a bank transfer chimed. It was followed by a voice message from him. [I sent you an extra twenty thousand. Next time, don’t resort to these immature, attention-seeking games where you hurt yourself.] [I won’t be back for a couple of days. You need to calm down and think things through.] I had to laugh. He actually thought I’d burned myself on purpose to win his affection. In his eyes, I had become a helpless, clinging vine, capable of nothing but manipulation. But I was a graduate of a top university, an honors student. Before I even finished my degree, a major corporation had offered me a position heading their overseas R&D department. It was because I couldn’t bear to leave Marcus that I gave up that opportunity. I chose to stay and work at a small, unknown local research institute instead. My sacrifices hadn’t earned me mutual respect. They had earned me this humiliating, unbearable reality. I wasn’t without pain, or regret. But after the pain and regret, I had to think about the future. I sniffled, my nose stinging slightly. I transferred the full $200,000 into my personal savings account. Then I did two things. First, I contacted an agent to find me a suitable rental in the UK. Second, I scheduled an abortion for the next day. Marcus always believed the fertility problems were my fault. He thought I couldn’t live without him, and that I would never give up the baby in my belly. That’s why he felt so brazenly confident telling me about him and Melissa. But the truth was, he was the one with the low sperm count. There was nothing wrong with me. I could have more children in the future. They just wouldn’t be his. 3 The procedure wasn’t long. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, the little life inside me was gone. Staring at the medical report, I couldn’t stop my eyes from turning red. I forced myself to pull it together and spent two days recovering in the hospital. The day I was discharged, I received an official job offer from a prestigious research center in the UK. I breathed a sigh of relief and headed straight to my old institute to pack up my things. Before I even opened the door, I heard peals of laughter from inside. “Liam is so brilliant! He’s doing advanced math problems already! A true son of Mr. Blackwell and Director Melissa.” “And Toby is a little genius too! Look how fast he builds with those Legos!” “I know, right? And they can already identify different chemical compounds and do experiments!” “It’s what happens when you combine superior genes. Not like Anya. She can’t even get pregnant through IVF. You can just imagine how weak her genes are.” “Haha, it’s a good thing she’s barren. Can you imagine if she had an average kid? What a waste of Mr. Blackwell’s DNA.” I recognized the voices. One was my former assistant, the other a nepotism hire. Director Melissa? When did Melissa become a director? I pushed the door open. The chatter stopped instantly. The smile on Marcus’s face froze. Melissa looked at me timidly. “Professor… Anya, what are you doing here?” Marcus wrapped an arm around her shoulder, rubbing it gently in a silent show of support. Seeing this, the others’ expressions turned smug. “Anya, you were fired. Why are you even here?” one of them sneered. I paused. “Fired? When did that happen?” The nepotism hire laughed. “Stop playing dumb. The notice was posted in the company group chat. Didn’t you see it?” I hadn’t looked at the work chat at all while I was in the hospital. I opened it now and saw that on the very day I’d had the abortion, the institute had terminated my employment for “procedural violations” and promoted Melissa to my position as director. I laughed, a bitter, angry sound. “Procedural violations? Where’s your proof?” My former assistant lifted her chin. “I saw it with my own eyes. And there’s security footage.” I stared at her coldly. “I have the original, unedited surveillance footage of every single one of my experiments. If you think you can frame me with a doctored video, we can settle this in court.” They froze, clearly not expecting me to have a backup. Melissa shot a panicked look at Marcus. He patted her reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Go play with the boys for a bit.” After Melissa walked away, his gaze lingered on her and the twins for a long moment before he finally turned to me, his eyes dismissive. “Anya, the evidence doesn’t matter. What matters is the attitude of the investor. Me.” “A top-tier research conglomerate has taken an interest in one of our recent projects. They’ve sent an invitation to a major science forum. Melissa is young; she needs a stage like this.” I clenched my fists. “So, for her to have her moment in the spotlight, you’re just going to throw away all my years of hard work?” A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a smirk. “It’s not fair to you, I admit. But it’s her dream to be up on that stage.” “To convince me to help her… that shy, timid girl… she put on cat ears and a tail for me. Her face was bright red, but she spent the whole night meowing like a little kitten. Tell me, how could I possibly say no?” For some reason, at his final question, all the rage inside me just… dissipated. I unclenched my fists, my voice calm. “In that case, a million dollars shouldn’t be too much to ask, right?” Marcus’s expression went blank for a second. After a few beats, he nodded. “Yes. You deserve it.” I held his gaze. “Transfer it now. And make sure the memo says ‘Voluntary Gift.’” Marcus frowned. “Anya, I thought you were the one who never cared about money.” I just smiled. Since I’d already decided to give up on the man, I might as well take as much of his money as I could. 4 I needed to get my personal belongings from my office. Melissa stood in the doorway, wringing the hem of her sleeve, her face a mask of pitiful distress. “Professor, the research results… they weren’t your work alone. I contributed too. If you take all the core data, what are we supposed to do?” I had to laugh. “What did you contribute? The time you mistook sodium nitrite for sugar in my coffee and sent me to the ICU? Or the time you brought flammable materials into my office and burned all my research notes to a crisp?” Melissa’s eyes darted around, her trembling lips betraying her guilt and anxiety. My face hardened. “Move.” She didn’t budge, tears already welling in her eyes. WHAM! A sharp blow struck my lower back. I staggered, pain radiating through me. Before I could recover, something hard slammed into my knee. The blunt force sent me crumpling to the floor. My forehead hit the sharp corner of the wall, and my vision went black for a second. Through a blurry haze, I saw Melissa’s two sons. One was holding a baseball bat, the other was still in a throwing motion. “You mean bitch! Don’t you bully our mommy!” “Mommy was right! You’re just a homewrecker trying to steal our daddy!” Marcus rushed over. His eyes lingered on me for only a second before he opened his arms and pulled the weeping Melissa into a comforting embrace. “It’s okay, baby, don’t cry. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you.” Then he turned to me, his voice sharp with anger. “Anya, what are you trying to pull now?” I pushed myself off the floor and hit play on my phone’s voice recorder. “Listen for yourself.” Melissa’s sobs hitched. The two boys exchanged a guilty glance and lowered their heads. Marcus listened, his expression unchanging, until he strode over and stopped the recording. “Anya, they’re just kids. Don’t take it to heart.” He glanced at the blood trickling from my forehead, and his voice softened. “I’ll have my driver take you to the hospital.” Before I could respond, the nepotism hire piped up. “Give it a rest, Anya. Mr. Blackwell has already divorced you. It’s useless to keep clinging to him. You might as well take whatever medical money he’s offering before he gets completely sick of you.” A loud ringing filled my ears. “Divorced?” I looked at Marcus. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing, but his eyes held a clear warning. I lowered my gaze and smiled. “That’s right. He and I… we’re already divorced.” When I looked up again, my expression was ice. “In that case, Mr. Blackwell, how much do you intend to offer for my medical expenses?” Marcus was silent for a moment, then gave a lazy smile. “How much do you want?” I pointed to my still-bleeding forehead. “Five million dollars.” Melissa gasped. “That’s outrageous! It’s just a—” “Done.” Marcus cut her off and immediately initiated the bank transfer. “Anya, I’ll take you to the hospital.” I sneered. “Don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Blackwell. I can get there on my own.” “As for the transportation fee, let’s say… ten thousand.” Marcus paused, then furiously tapped ‘confirm’ on his phone, his tone clipped. “Whatever you want.”

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I was the pampered secret Norman Lancaster held in the palm of his hand. When his obsession with me was at its peak, even the most arrogant old-money socialites in Manhattan had to treat me with respect. That was until one day, at twenty-eight years old, I was personally decorating a private table at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the Hudson River for our ninth anniversary. My phone buzzed with a text from him. “I am getting engaged today… I was worried you might find out and cause a scene.” “Be a good girl. I will come home later and explain.” The silver fork in my hand clattered against the plate. I froze, paralyzed. It felt like the floor had opened up, swallowing me into an endless abyss. Tears spilled over my lashes before I could even blink. “Then all these years… what was I to you?” I hit send. The chat screen remained dead, met with an agonizing, suffocating silence. 1 The dawn sky was a stifling, cinematic gray, making the faint flush of warmth in the bedroom feel even more intense. I had just rolled over. My gaze collided straight into the dark, bottomless eyes of the man beside me. They were heavy with sleep. He had just woken up. “You are up early,” I whispered. The arm wrapped around my waist suddenly tightened, locking me against his hard chest. “Dom, stop…” “Mhm.” He let out a low, gravelly hum that vibrated against my skin. His hands, however, did not stop. Warm fingers, heavy with familiar desire, smoothly slipped the strap of my silk nightgown down my shoulder, tracing lower. Before I could even push him away, his powerful, overwhelming body pressed over mine. … Two hours later. I dozed lightly against his chest until the bright morning sun pierced through the curtains, waking me up. His hands were still brazenly wandering over my curves. His voice was lazy, completely satisfied. “What is it? Cannot sleep?” I shifted my aching hips and playfully punched his shoulder. Pulling the heavy duvet over my flushed face, I mumbled my complaint. “It is all your fault…” He had been utterly insatiable last night, taking me again and again until I was entirely exhausted. And the second he opened his eyes this morning, he was all over me again. It always gave me this pathetic, delusional hope that he loved me down to the marrow of his bones. Because of that, the tiny, suppressed hope in my heart started sprouting like weeds after the rain. I just could not keep it buried. I crawled up, resting my chin on his chest. My index finger traced slow, teasing circles over his smooth skin, careful and deliberate. “Norman… do you know what day it is today?” The pale, elegant fingers holding his cigarette paused. It was as if he had hit an invisible wall. His hand froze in mid-air. His thin lips parted slightly. “No. Why? Is something going on?” Plumes of white smoke drifted upward in lonely, perfect rings. The haze blurred his sharp, devastatingly handsome features, but it could not hide the sudden, icy shift in his demeanor. I shivered, my heart dropping to my stomach. I understood instantly. He had forgotten what today was. Again. A heavy weight dragged my chest down. For the past nine years, today had been our anniversary. Yet, he never actively remembered it. It felt deliberate. Like he was erasing it on purpose. He would go all out for Valentine’s Day, Christmas, or my birthday, showering me in diamonds and attention. But never today. It made me feel so incredibly cherished, yet utterly worthless all at once. … The silence in the bedroom grew deafening. “Are you mad?” Seeing my silence, he leaned over and pinched my chin, tilting my face up. I snapped out of my daze. His expression had returned to normal. He stared down at me, letting out a low chuckle. “Let me guess what holiday you invented this time. A rose festival? A Cartier jewelry day?” That lethal, sexy mouth curved upward. “I will have Assistant Wyatt handle it for you.” “But,” he added, his tone dripping with lazy finality, “I really do have plans tonight.” He said it so casually, but there was an underlying, absolute authority in his voice that dared me to argue. A massive wave of grievance hit me. My eyes quickly filled with hot tears. If it were any other day, I would have swallowed my pride and compromised like a good girl. But not today. Today, I wanted to be selfish. I forced my voice to stay steady, completely ignoring his warning as I blurted out the truth. “What could possibly be so important that you cannot cancel it? I do not care. You have to have dinner with me tonight.” The relaxed lines between Norman’s brows snapped together. He eyed me, his aura turning freezing cold, but he maintained a sliver of patience. “I cannot cancel it.” My chest physically ached. I raised my voice, fueled by pure hurt. “Norman, are you doing this on purpose? I said, you are having dinner with me.” “…” When his sharp, perfectly sculpted brows furrowed deeply, a distinct look of offense crossed his face. Like a peasant had just insulted a king. It was a look I had never seen directed at me. His glacial eyes swept over me without an ounce of affection before looking away. He coldly put out his cigarette, stood up, and fastened his luxury watch around his wrist. “We will talk later.” He grabbed his crisp dress shirt and put it on. It was not until he was fully dressed and standing by the bedroom door that he finally looked back at me. His voice was laced with pure frost. “Madeline, you are crossing a line with this tantrum. It is not a good look on you.” Panic instantly seized my throat. I called out desperately, “Dom…” But the only answer I got was the sound of the heavy bedroom door slamming shut. The lock clicked, trapping my voice inside this massive, empty room. 2 Norman said this was not like me. But did he know that this was not like him either? When I first met him nine years ago, the image burned into my brain was of a man entirely composed, brutally disciplined, and untouchable. It seemed like nothing in the world could ever make him lose his temper. At least, that was how he had always been with me. I still remember our very first encounter. It was my college graduation. As the valedictorian, I was supposed to receive my diploma and an award from him, our university’s most prestigious billionaire donor. When our hands met, the hand offering me the certificate paused. His voice, crisp and cool like a rushing stream, echoed through the microphone. “Excellent work. What is your next goal?” In that exact moment, I looked up and got lost in his eyes. I completely froze. How could I even describe those eyes? They were obsidian, mysterious, like a massive black hole threatening to swallow me whole. I could hear my own heartbeat going absolutely chaotic in my ears. “I, I…” In my panic, my fingers crushed the edge of my graduation gown. The words tumbled out of my mouth. “I want to be yours…” “…” The entire auditorium went dead silent. A second later, a massive wave of laughter erupted from the crowd. I stood there, paralyzed, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me. My face drained of all color. I waved my hands frantically, desperate to fix it. “No, no, no! I meant… I want to be someone like you…” Despite my absolute humiliation, the man standing before me remained perfectly composed. There was not a single ripple of shock in his eyes. Those dark, narrow eyes gleamed slightly under the stage lights. His thin lips curved into a smile gentler than a spring breeze. “A very creative opening statement. Miss Madeline truly earns her title as valedictorian. The rest of you should take notes.” He chuckled softly. “I will remember you.” “Keep up the good work,” he said smoothly. Norman did not get offended. Instead, in front of thousands of people, he handed me a graceful way out, rescuing my fragile, shattered pride. His grace left me absolutely deeply shaken. That day felt like I had been cleansed by a sudden, beautiful rainstorm. I also knew, deep down, that he was a shore I could never reach, no matter how hard I swam. After graduation, I found a decent corporate job in Boston. I mapped out a practical life, aiming for a modest, successful future that had absolutely nothing to do with him. But just as my life was getting on track, my mother was diagnosed with terminal cervical cancer. In just three months, we drained every single penny we owned, but we still could not save her. My father broke under the grief. He turned to alcohol, cigarettes, and eventually, underground gambling. He mortgaged our house and took out massive loans from loan sharks. He destroyed whatever was left of our family. The next time I saw Norman, I was taking a shot of cheap tequila for a girl named Penny. She was there to party. I was there as a bottle girl, desperate for cash. Inside a loud, chaotic VIP booth, a sweaty, drunk man was dragging her by the wrist, trying to force liquor down her throat. “I bought this, so you are going to drink it.” “I will not!” Penny thrashed wildly. “Let go of me! My uncle is Norman Lancaster! If you touch me, he will destroy you!” That specific name made my hand freeze over the ice bucket. The next second, right as the man was about to pour the liquor into her mouth, I reached out and snatched the glass. “I will take this drink for her.” The man looked up, annoyed. His gaze landed on my face, tracing my pale skin, my features, and my long legs in the uniform skirt. I knew exactly what my assets were. His eyes lit up with disgusting hunger. “Alright, sweetheart. You drink it. Drink this, spend the night with me, and I will let the little brat go.” … I lost count of how many glasses they shoved down my throat. Suddenly, a glass bottle shattered against the fat man’s head with a sickening crunch. When I forced my heavy eyelids open, the disgusting man was already cowering on the floor. Standing over him was a tall, imposing figure. Through my blurred, spinning vision, I only saw a man in a flawless tailored suit. His aura was entirely lethal yet aristocratic. His hand, adorned with a million-dollar watch, grasped my arm with strict professional boundaries, pulling me up. “Are you alright?” My tongue felt numb. “I… I…” I just gave up and shook my head. I was practically dragged out of the club. The wind outside was brutal. The cold air mixing with the alcohol made the world spin violently. I collapsed onto the soft mattress of a luxury hotel room without ever seeing the man’s face clearly. But my intuition screamed at me. I knew it was Norman Lancaster. When I woke up the next morning, the suite was empty. But on the nightstand, there was a crisp piece of hotel stationery. “I remember you. Thank you for what you did last night. Here is my personal number. Keep it just in case.” The elegant handwriting perfectly matched his breathtaking profile. His face instantly flashed in my mind. My heart hammered against my ribs like an earthquake. 3 After that night, I kept my job at the club, constantly scanning the crowds, hoping Norman would walk through the doors again. But my luck was terrible. I did not find the man I was waiting for. Instead, I ran straight into the drunk man from that night. I learned his name was Director Marcus. He was a sleazy film director who had a few hit movies years ago and now used his fading influence to exploit desperate young actresses. Penny, wanting to break into Hollywood without her family’s help, had been tricked into coming to his booth. I was holding a tray of drinks when I locked eyes with him. The stench of stale alcohol hit my nose immediately. “You.” He ground his teeth, his eyes turning vicious. “You actually have the nerve to show your face around me?” His sweaty, greasy hands shot out, wrapping around my throat like a vice. He leaned in, panting heavily. “I am going to end you tonight, you little bitch.” My face drained of blood. I thrashed wildly, trying to break free. The other men in the VIP room immediately understood the assignment. They stood up and walked out, clearing the room for him. I screamed for help. “No! Let me go!” But the heavy, soundproof door clicked shut right in front of my eyes. My heart plummeted into absolute darkness. He violently threw me onto the leather sofa. His hands ripped at my uniform shirt, tearing the fabric. My hands scrambled blindly across the table, praying to find a glass bottle or a corkscrew. Anything. Instead, my fingers brushed against the phone in my vest pocket. I pressed the emergency dial without looking. BANG. The heavy doors were kicked open. Norman’s massive frame stood in the doorway, backlit by the hallway lights like a literal god. That was the third time we met. Right in the middle of my ruined, miserable life. I was exhausted, broken, and helpless. He was the light cutting through the fog. I found out later why my accidental emergency call got him there so fast. He was already in the club that night for a meeting. He had seen me when he walked in, but he had kept his distance. Because of my own calculated move to set his private number as my emergency contact, I had miraculously saved my own life. “Mr. Lancaster, thank you.” My throat was bruised. My voice came out cracked and hoarse. Norman’s eyes swept over my torn clothes. With perfect gentlemanly grace, he shrugged off his expensive suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. He smiled faintly, polite and distant. “Do not mention it, Miss Madeline. I owed you a favor anyway.” “Consider us even.” Just then, his assistant walked in, carrying a brand new dress. I took it gratefully and went to the bathroom to change. When I stepped back out, I had regained whatever little dignity I had left. “The dress is beautiful. It looks like I owe you a favor again, Mr. Lancaster.” “…” As a way to repay him, or rather, using my gratitude as an excuse to cling to him. For the next two weeks, I practically stalked him. I begged him to hire me as his personal secretary. First, I genuinely wanted to pay him back. Second, I had realized a brutal truth. In this world, the only way to survive and protect myself was to stand behind the most powerful man in the room. Initially, Norman refused. But by pure luck, his executive secretary of five years, Rachel, had to go on sudden maternity leave. Her absence threw his entire meticulous life into absolute chaos. It was 11:00 PM. The icy winter wind slashed against my face, chilling me to the bone. I stood right outside the glass doors of Lancaster Corp headquarters. I watched this pristine, flawless billionaire walk out of the lobby, heavily rubbing his temples in exhaustion. His jaw was clenched tight, his expression masking deep frustration. His right hand was pressed hard against his stomach, rubbing it as if he were in pain from skipping meals. As his long strides carried him past me, I took a deep breath. I told myself, This is it. It is time to let go. But to my absolute shock, those expensive leather shoes stopped, turned around, and walked right back into my line of sight. “It seems I really cannot function without a woman organizing my life.” The freezing wind messed up his perfectly styled hair. His voice sounded like it was echoing from a deep, lonely cavern. Cold, detached, but yielding. He said, “Want to give it a try?” “…” And just like that. Our fourth encounter stopped time itself. I never told him that night was my deadline. I had made a bet with myself. If he rejected me by midnight, I would disappear from his life forever. Thank God. I had taken ninety-nine steps toward him, and just as I was about to turn around, he took the final step toward me. 4 After becoming Norman’s secretary, I became the busiest woman in New York. I did not want him to think I was a burden, so I compressed months of training into weeks, learning every single detail of his personal and professional life. My analytical brain, the one that made me valedictorian, allowed me to adapt instantly and navigate the corporate warzone with ease. Norman was extremely satisfied with my performance. Though he never praised me with words. Instead, he doubled my base salary, gave me massive performance bonuses, and bought me a luxury condo in the center of Manhattan. It was a life I used to think was a fantasy. Then came that night. I was wearing a stunning, elegant off-the-shoulder gown, accompanying him to an exclusive high-society gala. The old wolves of Wall Street kept coming over to toast him. As his secretary, I flawlessly stepped in, blocking the liquor and downing glass after glass with polite, charming smiles. I drank too much, too fast. My head was spinning. I excused myself and stepped out onto the terrace to get some fresh air. Suddenly, a warm, high-quality suit jacket was draped over my bare shoulders. My heart fluttered. Thinking it was Norman, I turned around eagerly. But the man standing there had a face I had never seen before. He had striking features and radiated an easy, arrogant wealth. I frowned immediately. “And you are?”

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I was eight months pregnant when my husband, Beta Ethan, finally made time to accompany me to the hospital for a prenatal checkup for the first time. But the moment we stepped into the hospital, his phone started vibrating urgently. The caller’s name flashed by for just an instant, but Ethan, who was usually so calm and composed, panicked immediately. “Honey, emergency alert—Rogues have invaded the pack again. I need to handle it… I’m sorry…” He was extremely anxious, his tone carrying the commanding force of someone in authority who wouldn’t take no for an answer. After a hasty apology, he left. As I stared at the back of his SUV speeding away, my nails had already crumpled the prenatal examination form in my hand. I hailed a cab with my swollen belly and quickly said: “Driver, follow that car.” Ha, Rogues invading the pack? What a ridiculous lie. My father was the Alpha and hadn’t received any notification. What urgent matter could a Beta like him possibly need to handle? I was going to see for myself which “superior” was so eager to “give him orders.”

The moment I said the word “affair,” the driver hit the gas and caught up with Ethan. I didn’t know who Ethan was going to meet, but my gut instinct made me uneasy. What I didn’t expect was that after turning corner after corner, the car finally stopped at the entrance to the pack’s newly developed villa district. I let out a long sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t some hotel. This place was a residential area the pack had allocated to high-ranking officials. Ethan had been assigned a villa here too. Before my first pregnancy, I’d lived here briefly for a few months. The neighbors were all very kind. But now, seeing luxury cars gathered at our doorway from a distance, with decorations and lights everywhere, I was puzzled. Was today some important occasion? Just as I was about to go in and see, I was stopped by the guard: “Pack high-level residential area. No entry without an invitation.” I was stunned, then smiled and explained, “I’m the wife of Beta Ethan, who just went in.” To my surprise, the guard looked at me with utter contempt. “Beta Ethan’s wife is Ms. Vivian. Who are you? You should at least do your research before impersonating someone.” In that instant, my entire body went rigid and I froze in place. Vivian—that nanny Ethan had hired for me… Coming back to my senses and ignoring the guard’s attempts to stop me, I rushed to the villa entrance with my swollen belly. I saw the hall filled with well-dressed elites and dignitaries, their laughter filling the air. Ethan’s mother Layla, who usually kept to herself and avoided social gatherings, was now unusually mingling and networking. And my husband Ethan was holding a child and bottle-feeding him for the first time ever, smiling happily at the petite woman beside him. That woman was Vivian… In an instant, it felt like a large hand was squeezing my heart, making it hard to breathe. Tears fell uncontrollably. When I was pregnant with my first child, Ethan had arranged a nanny for me. That was Vivian, who was still an Omega at the time. Later, after I gave birth, Ethan used his authority to change Vivian from an Omega into a regular wolf, saying it was to thank her for her service. After that, Vivian didn’t want to be a nanny anymore, so I found her many good job opportunities and even frequently had Ethan bring her supplements. But I never imagined that Ethan would have an affair with her and set her up in this house. This villa was the marital home he had carefully prepared for me after he was promoted to Beta. It was just far from the hospital, so when I got pregnant, Ethan was so worried about me that he bought a new house near the central hospital and we moved out. Who would have thought it would become their “proper” marital home? And they even had a child… When Ethan moved another woman and child into this villa, did he even remember that he became Beta entirely thanks to my father’s support? Ethan and I were fated mates. We got married not long after we started dating. He was just a regular wolf back then. It was I who begged my father, Alpha James, to help him rise step by step to become the Beta of Riverbend Pack. At the party, people were already flattering Ethan. “Congratulations, Beta Ethan! You have such a virtuous wife, and now your son is one year old. Your life is truly perfect!” “Oh my, Vivian is so lucky to have found someone like Ethan who dotes on his wife so much. I’m so jealous!” Someone nearby patted Layla’s hand and said. Layla’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she looked at Vivian, boasting: “It’s my Ethan who’s lucky to have married such a wonderful wife like Vivian.” After she finished speaking, Ethan didn’t avoid the crowd as he leaned in intimately to whisper something in Vivian’s ear. Vivian smiled shyly, then raised her glass to everyone: “I was afraid of affecting Ethan’s reputation in the pack, so I didn’t publicly announce our marriage. Please don’t hold it against us.” “Today is our child’s first birthday party. Thank you all for coming.” Seeing that Vivian had saved face for everyone, people smiled and complimented her. “How could we hold it against you? We still owe you a ‘congratulations on your wedding.’” “I say, since it’s such a special day, why don’t you two be bride and groom again and share a kiss!” Ethan’s subordinates joined in the cheering, and the atmosphere of the banquet reached a climax. Vivian immediately retreated shyly, but Ethan wrapped his arm around her waist. Just as he was about to kiss her, his gaze suddenly met mine at the doorway. The man abruptly pushed away the woman in his arms, startling Vivian so much that she crashed into a nearby table. “Amelia…” Wiping away the tears from my eyes with one hand, I stepped forward quickly with my swollen belly and raised my hand to deliver a slap. “Smack!” The crisp sound of the slap rang through the air, shocking the entire hall into dead silence. “Ethan!” Vivian’s eyes rolled back as she lunged at Ethan, hysterically berating me: “Amelia! How dare you—!” “Smack—!” Another slap. Half of Vivian’s face instantly swelled up red as she staggered back into Ethan’s arms, sobbing pitifully. I shook my numb palm. “Ame…” Ethan immediately reacted and shouted at me. “Ethan—!” But my voice was even louder. I turned my head and stared at him with cold eyes. “This is the ’emergency Rogue invasion’ you needed to handle?!”

Ethan was instantly speechless. He opened his mouth but couldn’t say anything. Many of Ethan’s subordinates and their families in the room were completely stunned and confused. As the atmosphere froze, a baby’s cry suddenly startled everyone back to their senses. Layla hurriedly took the child to soothe him, then immediately turned and cursed at me: “Amelia! You crazy woman, you’re divorced already—how dare you still come here and pester my son! Have some shame and get out, or when you offend some important person, you’ll regret it!” One of Ethan’s subordinate’s wives also immediately shouted: “I mean, even if you’re Beta Ethan’s ex-wife, you can’t just assault people. Seriously, this is an attack on a Beta!” Learning my identity, the hall exploded into chaos. People clamored about locking me up and teaching me a lesson. I frowned and grabbed Ethan’s collar, about to ask how I, his perfectly legal wife, had suddenly become his ex-wife. But Vivian shrank into Ethan’s arms first, looking at me with tears in her eyes: “Amelia… Ethan has already broken the mate bond with you. Why are you still clinging to us…” Tears streamed down her face: “It’s all my fault. I’ll give Ethan back to you, okay…” After she finished speaking, Ethan’s expression changed drastically. He suppressed his anger and scolded me: “Amelia! I’ve told you I won’t get back together with you! Stop harassing us!” “Get out before I lose my patience! I don’t have time to deal with you!” As he spoke, Ethan waved his hand, and several guards rushed over to forcibly remove me. As I struggled, I stumbled and bumped into Layla. But the moment I caught a clear glimpse of the baby’s face in her arms, my entire body was struck as if by lightning! Because the baby Layla was holding, supposedly Vivian’s child, was actually Joe—the child I had labored for seven hours to bring into this world during my first pregnancy! But my child had supposedly died three months ago, and Ethan had personally cremated him— Ethan… My breathing caught, and intense pain surged in my eyes. That bastard Ethan! He had actually faked our child’s death to deceive me, just so he could give the baby to Vivian to raise! “Give me my child back! He’s my Joe!” My teeth ground together audibly. I snatched the baby from the blanket, pushed Layla aside, and gently soothed the crying infant, tears streaming down my face in heartbreak. But Vivian suddenly panicked. She rushed over crying, trying to snatch the child away. Her voice choked and trembling: “Amelia, he’s not your child!” “I know Joe died and you were traumatized and went crazy. Even after the divorce, you insisted on clinging to Ethan to have another baby…” “I pitied you for losing your child and gave in to you everywhere, but you can’t steal my child!” “Please, I’m begging you, leave our family alone… I can reject Ethan, just please give me back my child!” Hearing this, Ethan’s expression contorted in pain. He gripped Vivian’s shoulders tightly and said firmly: “Vivian, I won’t allow it!” “Don’t even think about rejecting me. No one can tear our family of three apart.” “And what about me?!” I roared, interrupting them. Watching the two of them reluctantly expressing their devotion to each other, if I weren’t the one with the mate bond to Ethan, I would’ve thought they were the married couple who had established a mate bond. I pointed at my heavy pregnant belly and said to him word by word: “Ethan, I’m still carrying your child. You’re having an affair right in front of me and making me out to be your ex-wife. Aren’t you disgusting?!” His Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes avoided mine. But Vivian’s tears suddenly fell even harder, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. She turned to the guests and sobbed: “I’m sorry, everyone. Amelia is Ethan’s ex-wife. She went crazy after losing her child during a difficult delivery.” “Later she kept pestering Ethan to have a child with her. When he refused, she found many homeless men and thugs… to get pregnant…” “Ethan took care of her out of consideration for their past, but she’s trying to force Ethan to acknowledge this bastard child and… and threatening us to divorce…” These words instantly ignited the fury of everyone present. The wealthy ladies immediately shouted with contempt: “That crazy bitch has it all! Someone! Get this shrew out of here now!” Gently soothing the child in my arms, I snorted coldly and suddenly laughed in anger. I grew up abroad and was only brought back to the pack by my father when I was older, so very few people in the pack knew or recognized me. Very few knew that Alpha James even had a daughter. When Ethan and I got married, he didn’t want to make a big deal of it, afraid people would say he only got promoted because of my father, so we chose to keep the marriage secret. But I never expected that all of this would result in me, the Alpha’s daughter and the Beta’s wife, being called a crazy woman and a whore. Looking at Vivian, my eyes turned cold as ice: “Who’s the whore pretending to be pure? Vivian, don’t you know? Need me to remind you how much I paid you per month when you were a nanny?” “Who took my thirty million and knelt in front of me begging for a good job? Wasn’t that you?” “What, does Ethan not pay you enough as his mistress? So now you’re trying to take my place directly?” “You’re a mistress who insists on playing the wife—doesn’t your face hurt?” Before I could finish, despite my pregnant belly, I was suddenly shoved and stumbled.

“You’re the homewrecker destroying my son’s family!” Layla’s shrill curse came through. My back slammed hard against the wall, and my entire abdomen suddenly cramped with pain. The child in my arms was also snatched away and handed to Vivian. Immediately after, Ethan’s subordinates also expressed righteous indignation: “That’s right! Everyone here knows Beta Ethan and Vivian are a couple!” “Vivian has been living here for a long time, we all know her! She’s always been a homemaker taking care of Ethan’s daily life, and she bore him a child!” “And you, a useless ex-wife, only know how to drag Beta Ethan down. You should be the one who’s ashamed!” This was clearly the villa my father had assigned to Ethan, yet he let Vivian, a mistress, move in! From what they were saying, shortly after I moved out, Vivian moved in. Ethan was truly shameless! Ethan’s subordinates continued talking. “Exactly! Even if you’re mentally ill, disturbing the pack’s order is still illegal!” “A slut like you, stop pretending to be Beta Ethan’s wife and dirtying our eyes. Beta Ethan is too kind-hearted. If it were me, I would have…” Vicious insults echoed around me. And in the midst of this nightmare, I looked pale at the man standing aside, keeping himself completely detached. “Ethan.” My voice was weak. “You tell them… how exactly did you get your position as Beta?” Ethan’s fingers suddenly clenched. He turned his head and looked at me coldly, a rare trace of hatred appearing in his usually indifferent eyes. I smiled. “You said you didn’t want to be just a wolf warrior for the rest of your life. I agreed and begged my father to arrange a higher position for you in the pack.” “After we got married, you said your rank was too low and you weren’t worthy of me, so I begged my father again.” “I begged my father step by step to promote you to the position of Beta, making you the youngest Beta in Riverbend Pack’s history. And now this is how you—” “Enough!” Ethan suddenly roared. He strode forward and grabbed my throat, his eyes savage and bloodshot as he shouted at me: “You’re lying! Everything I have today, I fought for myself! What does it have to do with a useless person like you?!” My neck hurt terribly. The intense suffocation made my vision go black instantly, and my entire face turned purple from the congested blood. But seeing my conviction, Ethan was suddenly provoked to fury. The subordinates and wealthy ladies seemed to sense something and began whispering among themselves. Seeing this, a dark gleam flashed in Vivian’s eyes. Holding the child, she suddenly dropped to her knees before me, crying mournfully: “Amelia, I’ve tolerated your crazy ramblings on ordinary days.” “But on an occasion like today, if you talk nonsense, you’ll really ruin Ethan’s future!” “I’m begging you, Amelia. I’m kneeling to you. Please stop being crazy! Okay…” She crawled forward a few steps on her knees and grabbed my pant leg. Ethan was shocked. The hand gripping my throat suddenly released, and he crouched down to help her up. But in the next second, Vivian grabbed my leg and threw herself backward. At the same time, she screamed: “Ah—! Amelia, just kick me to death!” Before I could react, in the next instant, Ethan’s hysterical slap had already landed hard: “Amelia! You don’t know when to stop!” A dull pain shot through my right cheek. I raised my hand to strike back, but Layla suddenly kicked me hard in the lower back. Caught off guard, I was sent flying into a curio cabinet. The moment I staggered and fell, my stomach cramped with bone-piercing pain, and bright red blood flowed from between my legs. In an instant, there was a pool of red beneath me. I sat paralyzed in the pool of blood, my entire body in excruciating pain as if it were falling apart. “My stomach… Ethan… my stomach hurts…” Blood tears flowed from my eyes as I reached out to Ethan for help. But Layla stomped hard on my hand, the pain making it feel like my bones were about to shatter: “Bitch! Stop faking it! My son won’t be threatened by you!” Tears blurred my vision. My lips trembled: “Ethan… I’m not faking… hurry… take me to the hospital…” But Ethan didn’t even turn back to look at me. He only carefully protected Vivian, his voice cold and heartless: “Enough! Amelia, stop pretending and apologize to Vivian!” “Always using the child as an excuse—do you think I’ll believe you?!” As he spoke, Ethan turned back angrily, but when he suddenly caught sight of the blood beneath me, the disgust on his face instantly crumbled, revealing a hint of fear. Ethan knew my identity. He absolutely couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Staring hard at Ethan’s panicked eyes, I endured the pain that felt like my intestines were being twisted and said through clenched teeth: “Ethan! If anything happens to the child in my belly! You! The biological father!” “Will be the murderer who killed him!” “My father and brother will make you pay with your life! Hurry! Take me to the hospital!”

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After my tenth miscarriage, I stumbled upon a viral post. [“My husband is a medical psychopath. To cure my fear of miscarriage, he deliberately married his enemy’s daughter.”] [“For ten years of marriage, he used hypnosis, staged accidents, and ten different methods to make her miscarry.”] [“Now he’s compiled all the observation data. My fear of miscarriage has finally disappeared.”] Someone asked: [“That’s so cruel. She never noticed?”] The poster replied: [“She’s been suffering from severe depression. Every time she miscarried, my husband provided psychological counseling. She’s too grateful to even suspect anything.”] [“The most recent one was hilarious—I personally made the incense blend.”] [“After smelling it, she rolled down the stairs all by herself. Even the surveillance cameras couldn’t detect anything suspicious.”] The pen in my hand clattered to the floor. My husband is a doctor. Yesterday, I lost my twins after smelling the calming incense my husband lit at home—right before I missed a step on the stairs. The poster’s final update read: [“Happy anniversary, and thank you for everything you’ve done for me!”] The photo showed two hands with fingers tightly intertwined. On the man’s hand was a cute little bear band-aid I’d personally drawn. It was our unique symbol of love—something I made for him every time he got injured during surgery. 1 Tears fell uncontrollably. I dumped all the dirty bear band-aids my husband had prepared into the trash. A cold presence approached. Peyton stood at the door without me noticing. “What are you freaking out about now?” “You just had a miscarriage. Instead of resting in bed, when exactly do you plan to recover?” Looking at his cold, aristocratic face made my stomach churn. “Recover so I can be your lab rat for the eleventh miscarriage?” Thinking of the children I’d lost, I grabbed the incense and threw it at his face. “You never let her go!” “All ten of my miscarriages—you orchestrated them for her, didn’t you?!” Seeing my pale face, Peyton frowned slightly and stayed silent for a few seconds. “Yes.” He removed his glasses and wiped them methodically. “Noelle has severe miscarriage phobia. I need to put her at ease.” “Your pain after each miscarriage, your depression levels, your recovery cycles—they all help her desensitize.” I could barely stand. Just because Noelle feared miscarriage, I had to lose eleven children to cure her! “So what am I to you?” “A test subject?” “This is murder!” I grabbed my phone and dialed 91

Peyton snatched the phone away. “You have no evidence.” “The forum post is deleted. Screenshots can be faked.” “You have a history of severe depression and have been on psychiatric medication long-term.” “And I’m your attending physician.” Every sentence cut off my escape routes. I remembered how, starting from my third miscarriage, he told me I was depressed and signed all those treatment documents for me. How he made me undergo psychological evaluations over and over. How he said: “Olivia, it’s okay to be sick. I’ll always be with you.” It turned out all that companionship was for this day. So that when I finally woke up, he could prove I was crazy. The last trace of love in my heart completely vanished. Peyton, I’m done with you. I lunged forward trying to grab my phone back. The wound from yesterday’s dilation and curettage tore open. I collapsed to the floor in pain. He instinctively reached out to support me, but quickly let go. His voice was cold: “Olivia, don’t use your miscarriage to manipulate me. The way you look right now is truly pathetic.” “Don’t blame me for being heartless. You should understand—some debts can never be repaid.” I understood. He still believed my father deliberately killed his father on the operating table. He still saw me as the enemy’s daughter, using my children to repay my father’s debt. But he forgot. That year when I was eight, his enemies wanted to eliminate him after his family fell apart. He was covered in blood, nearly frozen to death in the snow. I couldn’t bear it and brought him home, saving his life. My father had just died unexpectedly then. People said he intentionally killed someone and committed suicide out of guilt. My mother’s appeals fell on deaf ears. She died of depression. I barely survived on what little savings remained. Unable to afford band-aids, I cut up the softest old clothes and wrapped his wounds. I drew a little bear on the cloth strips and comforted him: “Don’t be afraid. The little bear will protect you, and I’ll stay with you too.” From then on, we depended on each other. Huddled under one blanket shivering with cold, sharing a single piece of bread. When people bullied me for being an orphan, he stood in front of me, covered in blood but refusing to back down. I could only cry as I wrapped him with the bear cloth strips. That little bear became our lifelong token. That’s how we slowly grew up together in the mud. 2 After the SATs, I gave up my future to support his study abroad. Working during the day, drawing illustrations at night. He held the plane ticket I’d saved three months to buy and cried while hugging me: “Olivia, you’re my life!” “When I come back, I’ll marry you in the grandest way possible!” For those words, I waited five bitter years. He really did return as a top doctor. I thought everything had finally turned around. But he came back with another woman. I went to the airport holding the little bear. Peyton knocked it out of my hands. “Olivia, the man your father killed back then was my father!” “Noelle is my childhood friend. She’s kind-hearted and would never lie to me.” “You’re the dirty daughter of a murderer, the daughter of my father’s killer. We’re done!” I refused to accept it. I desperately chased after him to explain that my father wasn’t that kind of person. I fell on the escalator covered in blood, but he didn’t care. I showed him the childhood bear bandage begging him to come back. He was indifferent. I blocked the entrance to his apartment for three days and nights without eating or drinking. I cried until I fainted, but he remained unmoved. Not until I stood on the rooftop threatening to jump did he reluctantly compromise. He agreed to break ties with Noelle and marry me. For ten years, I wanted to give him a complete family. I got pregnant again and again, only to miscarry again and again. I always thought I wasn’t doing enough. But I never imagined this was an experiment he conducted over ten years, using my eleven children for Noelle’s sake. Peyton’s phone screen lit up. The caller ID read: Noelle. His expression softened considerably. He didn’t avoid me. Soft crying came from the other end. “Peyton, did Olivia find out?” “Will she hate me? I really didn’t mean to post it. I was just so happy to finally be desensitized…” I stood there, my whole body going cold. So happy. She killed my eleven children, destroyed my life, and she said she was so happy. “So what if she found out? They’re just lumps of flesh. Gone is gone.” “As long as it helps you overcome your fear of miscarriage, even if she miscarries ten more times, she deserves it.” Peyton glanced at me and gently consoled her: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” “I absolutely won’t let her hurt you.” I suddenly laughed. A woman who just lost twins and could barely stand. In his eyes, I’d become the villain who would hurt Noelle. A piercing pain shot through my abdomen. Hot blood instantly stained the floor. Peyton’s fingers paused slightly. He instinctively took half a step toward me. But when his eyes met my reddened ones, his face showed disgust. He coldly withdrew his foot. “Olivia, how long are you going to keep this up?” “Deliberately reopening your wound to create a bloody scene—do you think this pathetic sympathy ploy will make me soften and care about you?” The scene before me brought me back to that winter. Peyton’s enemies found him and wanted to silence him. At the critical moment, I wore his coat to lead the killers away and took a fatal stab for him. Back then, Peyton’s eyes were bloodshot. Like a madman, he carried me running through the snow. He knelt crying and begged doctors to save me, saying he’d trade his life if necessary. But now, with all this blood I’d lost, his eyes only showed impatience. Just then, a piercing scream came through the phone: “Ah! Peyton! It’s blood! I’m so scared! I’m hallucinating again… Save me…” 3 Peyton immediately spoke soothingly into the phone: “Noelle, don’t be afraid. Close your eyes. I’ll come right away.” When he looked at me again, only coldness remained in his eyes. “You caused this yourself. Call a doctor yourself.” He threw my phone into the pool of blood and turned to leave without hesitation, not sparing me an extra glance. The moment the villa door closed, my phone received an anonymous text: “Tonight is Peyton’s 35th birthday party. If you want to know the truth about your father, meet me on the top deck.” Trembling, I fumbled for my phone with its shattered screen from the pool of blood and dialed 120 myself. When I woke up, I was already in a hospital room. The doctor informed me the remnants weren’t completely cleared. I needed an immediate second procedure. I probably would never have a baby again. The hospital room TV was broadcasting gossip news: Harbor City’s top doctor Peyton was hosting his 35th birthday party on a luxury cruise ship. The camera panned across a giant screen on the cruise ship playing intimate images of Peyton and Noelle on loop. Below was a prominent line of text: “Congratulations to Noelle for overcoming ten years of miscarriage phobia and beginning anew!” I bit my lip until it bled. With no family to accompany me, I had to sign the consent form myself. After the surgery, the pain nearly shattered my teeth. The doctor told me to stay in bed or risk my life. But to uncover the truth and end all this. I had to drag my broken body and force myself to leave. In the evening, following the text message’s directions, I brought the divorce agreement to that luxury cruise ship. The place was brilliantly lit, filled with the wealthy and powerful. At the center of the crowd, Peyton gently held Noelle’s hand as they cut into a seven-tier custom cake worth a fortune. What a ridiculous scene. On his 19th birthday, we were so poor we couldn’t even afford heating. I’d stayed up three nights drawing illustrations to buy a small strawberry cake. Back then, Peyton had tears in his eyes as he held me tight and swore: “Olivia, when I’m rich, I’ll buy you the biggest cake every day. Everything I have will be yours.” But now that he had everything, there was a different woman by his side. As I entered the banquet hall, mocking laughter arose. “Oh, isn’t that the crazy stalker who won’t let go? Begging again?” “The murderer’s daughter really has no shame!” Seeing the blood on my clothes, Noelle immediately cowered into Peyton’s arms screaming: “Peyton! She has blood on her… I’m scared!” Seeing my deathly pale face, the slight smile in Peyton’s eyes instantly froze. He strode over and grabbed my wrist, gripping so hard he nearly crushed my bones. “Who said you could come? Playing dead during the day wasn’t enough? Now you’re here at night to disgust Noelle?” I laughed coldly and shook my head. Calmly, I pulled out the signed divorce agreement from my bag. And threw it in his face. “Peyton, let’s get divorced.” Perhaps because I wasn’t hysterical as he expected, or perhaps my attitude was too cold. Peyton’s hand holding the wine glass froze abruptly, but he soon scoffed disdainfully. “Divorce? Olivia, aren’t you tired of this playing-hard-to-get routine?” “Your father owes me a life. Without my permission, even if you die, you can only die as a member of the Lawson family!” He lit a lighter and burned the divorce agreement to ash: “Remember this—when our fated relationship ends is for me to decide!” “Take her to the top deck. Without my orders, no one is allowed to let her down.” 4 My numb body suddenly stiffened. I looked at Peyton in disbelief. The top deck?! Could it be… The early winter wind mixed with ice shards from the sea surface cut into my bones like knives. But from the banquet hall below came the sounds of drunken revelry and classical symphony music. I’d just undergone a second dilation and curettage. Under the extreme cold’s assault, the pain made me curl up on the freezing deck, convulsing uncontrollably. Time stretched infinitely in the agony. Finally, near midnight, footsteps approached. The mysterious person who would tell me the truth had arrived. When I saw her face clearly, my heart contracted violently. It was her! Noelle looked at me with a cold laugh: “That’s right. I’m the one who told you to come!” “Peyton clearly hates you so much, but his hand trembled when he burned the divorce papers.” “I really can’t let you live anymore. As long as you’re alive, you’ll eventually give birth to that huge problem.” Huge problem? I stared at Noelle, my voice trembling. “Tell me… what really happened back then?” Noelle leaned close to my ear, her tone vicious: “At this point, there’s no harm in telling you.” “The one who tampered with things on the operating table and killed Peyton’s father was my father.” “Your innocent doctor father was just a scapegoat for the Lynch family!” “Even your mother who kept appealing everywhere—the Lynch family took care of her personally.” Noelle laughed maniacally. “I never had any miscarriage phobia at all.” “That old man from the Lawson family converted his entire $2 billion estate into a family trust before dying. It would only unlock when Peyton had his first child!” “Peyton was only eight then. He still doesn’t know about it to this day. That’s also why we didn’t kill you two back then.” “My family schemed so hard for that money. How could I let you two wretches get it?” My eyes filled with blood. Images of my parents’ tragic deaths and my children turning to blood intertwined in my mind. I lunged at Noelle like a madwoman, grabbing her throat. I slapped her until blood seeped from her mouth: “Give me back my children! Give me back my parents!” “I’ll kill you!” Noelle suddenly stopped laughing coldly and cried out loudly: “Olivia! Don’t! Please spare me!” But the steak knife in her hand suddenly stabbed through my abdomen. She kicked over the oil she’d prepared in advance. Hearing the commotion, Peyton burst through the door onto the deck. Flames shot skyward. The deck’s edge was about to collapse. A massive mechanical hook lost control and swung toward both of us. With a knife in my abdomen, I was violently flung over the railing. My chest screamed with pain. My entire body dangled above the turbulent deep sea. I used my last bit of strength to call out: “Peyton… save me… She’s your enemy’s daughter…” “She’ll kill you.” Noelle fell near the deck’s edge, hysterically screaming: “Peyton, save me! She’s trying to kill me! I’m so scared!” Peyton charged over with bloodshot eyes, looking at me with disgust. “Olivia, you vicious woman, you can even make up such lies?” “Just reflect here. Consider it repaying your father’s debt!” Without hesitation, he picked up the terrified-looking Noelle and rushed out of the flames without looking back. “Dong—” The cruise ship’s clock struck midnight. The instant Peyton saved Noelle, his phone in his suit pocket suddenly vibrated violently. A top-secret message from a Swiss bank flashed on the screen: [Dear Mr. Peyton Lawson:] [The $2 billion family trust established by your father has successfully triggered the second release condition: the beneficiary has turned 35 today.] [$2,000,000,000.00 has been transferred to your account ending in 0988.] [Note: The original first priority unlock condition “unlocks upon birth of first legitimate heir” has been voided.] “Trust… child…” Peyton’s brain exploded. All the clues from these years connected. He instantly understood everything. “Olivia!” He shoved Noelle aside and rushed back toward me. The next second, a massive “boom” sounded. As Peyton let out a desperate roar, the fire-scorched deck completely collapsed. I fell like a kite with a broken string, plummeting straight into the icy deep sea. Swallowed by pitch-black waves. “No—!” Peyton stood frozen at the railing, eyes bloodshot. Noelle was pushed to the ground. She scrambled to pick up Peyton’s phone that had fallen. She shrieked in shock.

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On New Year’s Eve, five months pregnant, I was urgently called back to the hospital to perform a C-section on a patient. Halfway through the surgery, a man’s hoarse roar came from the doorway. “Luna! Don’t be afraid, I’m here with you! After you have the baby, I’ll marry you and bring you home, okay?” The familiar voice made me freeze. It wasn’t until the surgery ended successfully and the man rushed in with reddened eyes to embrace Luna that I finally saw clearly. It was my husband of five years, Ethan Walker. When I saw the man’s face clearly, I froze for a moment before speaking in a hoarse voice. “Congratulations, it’s a seven-pound baby boy.” Ethan didn’t have time to look at the child, much less notice me. “Luna, thank you, thank you for giving me a child. You’re the best wife I could ask for. Luna, I love you.” He trembled as he placed a kiss on Luna’s forehead. Sincere and beautiful. Almost exactly like the scene I’d dreamed of when I would give birth. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the protagonist. Several new nurses exclaimed in admiration, their faces full of envy. “They’re so in love! This is the first time I’ve seen someone go to their wife first instead of the baby when the child is born!” “I’m so jealous of her! She found such a wonderful man.” My whole body trembled. It was like having a bucket of cold water poured over me from head to toe, my heart flooding with cold. Just five hours ago, Ethan had been carefully peeling shrimp for me at our New Year’s dinner. When a relative saw this and teased him about it, he didn’t mind at all. He reached over to wipe the corner of my mouth. “Sophia’s become even more of a foodie since getting pregnant. I do this all the time. If I don’t peel them for her, she’ll throw a tantrum and say I don’t love her!” I was a bit confused but didn’t say anything. After all, the tantrums he mentioned—I’d never thrown any. When his father offered him a drink, for the first time he refused, despite usually being so obedient. “Sophia is pregnant and gets uncomfortable when she smells alcohol. As her husband, I need to take care of her.” My heart had been so warm then. Now it was just as cold. It wasn’t until Luna was wheeled into the hospital room and a nurse took the baby from my frozen arms that my best friend, Cassidy, pulled down my mask, her face full of concern. “Sophia, with Ethan… isn’t there some kind of misunderstanding?” I lowered my eyes, feeling heat rising in them. But my mind flashed back to Ethan’s stunned expression when he first learned I was pregnant. At the time, I thought he was just happy and dazed, so I didn’t think much of it. He also reacted belatedly, hugging me tightly and kissing my forehead. “Sophia! I’m going to be a father? I’m so happy!” When he learned I didn’t plan to quit my job, Ethan’s expression soured and his tone became heavy. “But won’t that be too exhausting? Pregnancy will affect your work. You’ll have trouble managing both! If you don’t want the child, we can get rid of it!” I refused. But now, I regretted it a little. That momentary hesitation, those words hoping I’d abort the child—they were all his true feelings. Of course. Two children would be hard for him to manage. One was best. The one he loved most was best. I changed my clothes and passed by the hospital room, seeing the two of them nestled together inside. My heart filled with bitterness. It wasn’t until I left the hospital that Cassidy drove up and stopped in front of me. Only then did I wearily rub my temples, my hand falling to my swollen belly. My voice was hoarse but serious. “Cassidy, the hospital’s New Year holiday lasts a week, and we start work next Wednesday, right?” “Right.” “Then please schedule me for the earliest abortion procedure next Wednesday.”

After saying that, I didn’t wait to see Cassidy’s shocked expression. I drove home alone. Almost as soon as I reached my door, my phone received a message from Ethan. [Sophia, a really important project suddenly came up at the company tonight. I won’t be coming home to spend New Year’s with you.] I paused. Then he called. “Sophia, don’t throw a tantrum over something so small, okay? I can put up with your pregnancy mood swings once or twice, but after a while it really annoys me. Can you just be good? I’m working overtime to earn more money to support the baby. If you’re going to throw a fit over something like this, then let’s just abort the baby while it’s still small. Besides, you got called back to the hospital to work overtime too, didn’t you?” He’d said things like this many times before. During my second month of pregnancy, I had such bad morning sickness I couldn’t eat anything. He got impatient and threw away the food. “It’s just pregnancy! I’ve seen other people… and none of them are as delicate as you! How come you can’t eat anything? Don’t tell me you’re faking morning sickness to get me to stay with you like my coworkers said? Sophia! I’m busy too!” A woman’s sixth sense told me his “coworker” wasn’t just a regular colleague. But I was feeling too sick to investigate further. I just begged him to pour me a glass of warm water. “Where am I supposed to get warm water this late at night? You want me to specifically boil a pot for you? Can’t you just put up with it and drink something cold? How come everyone else can drink it but not you?” “If you can’t handle the difficulties of pregnancy, then just abort the baby early!” Only now did I realize. Every word he said back then came straight from his heart. How ridiculous, right? But wasn’t this too cruel to me? I stayed silent for a long time, finally speaking just before Ethan’s patience ran out. “Okay, got it. I won’t wait up for you then.” With that, I hung up directly.

Ethan came home early the next morning. He packed up some things, taking the baby items I’d prepared early, and was about to leave. “A coworker just had a baby and doesn’t have anything to give them. I’ll take the stuff we prepared for our baby and give it to her first. We can buy new things when you give birth.” I was a bit dazed, unconsciously touching my belly. Right. I wouldn’t need them anymore. This child wouldn’t be born either. Ethan didn’t notice. Seeing me dazed, his expression gradually darkened. But a trace of guilt flickered in his eyes. “You’re going to be petty over some baby supplies? Really? We can just buy the exact same things again later. Your temper has been so bad since you got pregnant. Do you really think you’re royalty or something?” I forced a smile and spoke obediently. “Okay, whatever you say.” When I finished speaking, Ethan froze again. Since getting pregnant, I hadn’t been this submissive in a long time. Pregnancy hormones made me cry easily, throw tantrums, and lose my temper. On our anniversary, I had seen Luna. She sat at the table next to ours, alone and looking sad with her pregnant belly. “I really envy you two. Your relationship is so good.” I was about to comfort her when Ethan directly gave her the necklace he’d prepared for me. “This necklace suits you better. I’ll give it to you. Don’t be sad anymore.” After saying that, he naturally reached out and patted her head. I froze on the spot, my face turning ugly. Luna hurriedly stood up, her face pale, tears in her eyes. “No, you don’t have to. This is your anniversary gift. I can’t take it. I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to ruin your anniversary. I’m really sorry.” By the end, her eyes were red. She almost knelt down to me. Before I could speak, Ethan scolded me furiously. “Sophia! Haven’t you caused enough trouble! It’s just a necklace! If you want one, we can buy another one! She likes it, so I gave it to her! Do you have to be so petty? She’s crying!” My words stuck in my throat. Watching Ethan intimately help Luna up, I finally couldn’t hold back and burst into tears. But he just looked impatient and pointed at the door. “If you want to cry, go cry outside! You think you’re an empress just because you’re pregnant? She’s already upset, why do you have to make it worse? Is that fun for you?” Afterward, he explained to me. “She’s all alone and already so pitiful. You’re about to be a mother too. Just think of it as doing a good deed, okay?” Isn’t it laughable? Ethan and his mistress were being intimate right in front of me. And I was too stupid to see it. How pathetic, right? Her child was born. But I was only five months along. How ironic, right? Ethan, your love really is cheap enough. Coming back to my senses, Ethan held me in his arms and kissed my forehead. “Be good. I have to go on a business trip for three days. Take care of yourself and the baby at home, okay? If you’d been this obedient earlier, we wouldn’t have had to argue.” I showed no expression. I looked at him calmly. “You’re going on a business trip during the New Year holiday too?” Ethan’s face stiffened for a moment. But he quickly put on a smile and pinched my cheek. “Yes, for you and the baby.”

After Ethan left, I slept all afternoon. When I woke up, it was already dark. I casually picked up my phone and scrolled through social media, when I saw a post from an unfamiliar secondary account. It was a family photo taken at the hospital. Luna held the baby, Ethan sat beside her, and Ethan’s parents stood nearby with big smiles. The caption read: [Four years with my husband, and now we have our little baby! The whole family is spoiling me like a little princess again!] The most striking comment below was from Ethan’s mother. [Our harmonious family is the greatest happiness!] A harmonious family? Could a mistress and her child really be called a harmonious family? Married for five years, but they’d been together for four? So they all knew. They were all keeping it from me. I pressed my lips together and couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed until tears poured down in large drops that I couldn’t wipe away fast enough. Ethan. I regret this so much. Late that night, I finally calmed my emotions and returned to the bedroom. I was about to take my vitamins when I noticed the pills looked different from usual. Although I studied obstetrics and gynecology, I could still tell the difference between pills. Unless I was drowsy and not fully conscious, it would be impossible to mix them up. The pill bottle sat on the nightstand. Normally, no one except Ethan could freely enter and exit. The answer was obvious. The hand holding the pills began to tremble uncontrollably. In the end, my whole body went limp and I collapsed to the floor with a thud. “It can’t be…” I desperately tried to comfort myself, desperately wanted to believe in Ethan. After all, we had truly been in love for several years. At our most loving, he even protected me underneath him during a car accident, just to keep me safe. He said, “Sophia, you’re far more important to me than I am to myself. I can’t lose you.” That day, I cried until I nearly lost my voice, swearing I’d only love him for the rest of my life. Today, I was equally choked with tears, but I was searching for reasons to believe in him. Ethan. Please, please don’t let it be you… On the third day, I asked Cassidy. “Sophia, this is a hormone pill. A pregnant woman absolutely can’t take this randomly. It could easily cause fetal deformities.” I completely froze in place, unable to hear anything else. The guilt in Ethan’s eyes when he left that day—I finally understood it. My last shred of hope for Ethan was completely shattered. Years of feelings, unable to withstand the high pressure, finally collapsed entirely.

Ethan didn’t come back on the third day. I sat dazed on the sofa until it grew dark and then light again. My phone rang and rang. Until the battery died and it automatically shut off, and the world became completely quiet. Next Wednesday was my birthday. I sat outside the operating room and called Ethan. “Sophia? You finally called me back. Have you been sulking these past few days? I’ve been too busy to come back.” “I’m doing this for triple pay! Can’t you be a little understanding? What do you think I am, ignoring my calls and messages? If you can’t handle this marriage, then let’s just get divorced! What’s the point of losing your temper at me every day? I really don’t have time to coax you!” By the end, his tone was terrible. I pretended not to hear. I spoke calmly and indifferently. “Ethan, do you remember today is my birthday?” He paused on the other end, saying nothing. I didn’t care. I wiped away my tears and continued. “It’s okay if you forgot. You don’t need to remember anymore. Ethan, when you come back, let’s get divorced.” After I finished speaking, he was silent for a long time. So long that I thought he’d already hung up, when a voice finally came through. “Sophia, are you using divorce as an excuse to force me to come back? Why do you have to be so extreme? Why can’t you try to understand me? Do you think I’ll give in if you do this?” “I hate it most when you play these games! Sophia, I’ll come back when you learn to behave!” I pressed my lips together. I stared at my phone, at the screen full of chat records and photos, in a daze. This was Luna’s secondary account, which had been sending me messages these past few days. From the very beginning when they met, to their current chat records—I’d seen it all. In four years, nine out of ten times he “worked overtime,” he was at Luna’s place. And I’d foolishly prepared meals and waited for him until late at night. Even when I saw the hickeys on his neck, I deluded myself into thinking they were mosquito bites. I trusted him completely. But he lied to me. Ethan. This is so unfair to me. If you don’t love me anymore, why won’t you let me go? “Ethan, I’m not joking.” “When you come back, let’s get divorced.” Just then, a new nurse came out with a form, calling for patients. Her voice carried into the phone. “Sophia, which one is Sophia? Your scheduled abortion procedure is ready!”

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My dad had been nagging me about blind dates for three whole years. He always sighed and said that after he and my mom were gone, leaving me alone in this world would be too lonely. To put his mind at ease, I went to meet the girl his old friend had introduced—Sienna. She was sophisticated and down-to-earth, not materialistic, the most compatible blind date I’d ever met. My dad couldn’t stop praising her, urging me every day to act fast, saying a girl this wonderful wouldn’t wait around forever. Just the night before I was secretly planning to propose with the diamond ring I’d already ordered, I accidentally came across a screenshot from a high-society girls’ group chat. “Ladies, I’ve found a rich idiot. Stupid and loaded. I’ll have him completely trapped tomorrow.” Below it was a candid photo she’d secretly taken of me eating, showing my profile. My fingers trembled as I scrolled down: “I’ve got my eye on that limited edition Hermès Birkin. Tomorrow I’ll spike his drink, and when he’s out of it, I’ll just swipe his card. That’s how I handled the last old guy with a Mercedes. Worked perfectly, no problems at all.” Just then, my phone suddenly vibrated. Sienna sent me a message: “Tristan, I’ve booked your favorite restaurant for tomorrow night. Let’s have dinner together.”

I looked at those screenshots over and over, unable to believe it. Sienna, who was always so dignified and proper, was this vile online. But the photo was right there—my jacket, my hands. How could I not recognize myself? The evidence was ironclad. Breaking into a cold sweat, I took a deep breath and replied: “Sure, see you tomorrow night.” The next day I arrived at the restaurant to find Sienna already there early, with all the dishes already ordered. Seeing me enter, she quickly stood up with a smile and pulled out my chair. “Tristan, you’re here. You look so sharp today.” The picture of a refined young lady. We’d barely eaten a few bites when I heard her say, “Tristan, we’ve met several times now. We should make it official. My dad says he’ll arrange our engagement for next week.” I nearly dropped my fork. Including today, we’d only met four times, and we hadn’t even confirmed our relationship. Engagement already? I swallowed the curse words on the tip of my tongue. “Sienna, I don’t think we’re compatible.” Sienna’s smile froze. “What are you saying, Tristan?” “I’m saying we’re not compatible. You can’t force a relationship. Let’s not contact each other anymore.” Sienna’s face immediately darkened. “Tristan Parker, what do you mean? Are you playing games with me? If you weren’t interested, why did you keep meeting me?” I listened wordlessly, not responding. Sienna snorted coldly and pulled a piece of paper from her bag, slapping it on the table. “Fine, you want to break up? Let’s settle the accounts first.” I looked down to see an itemized list of dating expenses. A long string of items, with a total at the bottom: Forty-eight thousand dollars. I was shocked and looked up at her. She looked completely justified. “Not a penny less.” “But I treated you too. It’s not like you were the only one paying.” As far as dating expenses went, I’d spent about the same amount as her. “That was your choice. I didn’t force you.” I laughed in disbelief. “You’re charging me for the Uber ride you took to get here?” It said two hundred dollars for the ride, but it only took her twenty minutes to get here. “If I wasn’t coming to see you, would I need to make this trip? Who else should I charge if not you?” I pointed at the line that said “beauty treatment, two thousand eight hundred” and asked again, “What does your spa treatment have to do with me?” “If I wasn’t meeting you, would I need to maintain my appearance?” Sienna said self-righteously. I was so angry I nearly choked. “Then show me the receipts, the order screenshots. Let’s go through it line by line. I’m not taking your word for it.” Sienna slammed the table. “What receipts? You have no idea how much effort I put into dating you? You think you can just take advantage and run?” Her aggressive manner finally matched that bitter woman in the screenshots. Instead, I calmed down. “How about this—take a photo of this list and post it on your social media. Get two hundred likes, and I’ll transfer the money immediately. Not a penny less.” Sienna’s face stiffened. Her eyes darted around, and she immediately switched to a gentle expression. “I was just speaking off the cuff earlier. Tristan, I like you. I don’t want to break up. I was just joking with you. Don’t take it to heart.” She pushed the red wine on the table toward me. “Come on, have some wine and calm down.” I stared at the glass of red wine for a moment, then reached out and picked it up.

Seeing me pick up the wine glass, Sienna’s eyes lit up. Probably thinking I was about to fall for her trap, she started with the sweet talk again. “Tristan, I was too anxious earlier. You’re right—feelings can’t be forced. If we’re not compatible, that’s okay. Let’s part on good terms. We can still be friends.” My hand trembled, and the entire glass of red wine spilled onto the table. Sienna’s face immediately went pale, staring at the pool of red wine, unable to speak. I set down the empty glass and followed her lead. “You’re right, let’s part on good terms.” Right in front of her, I pulled out my phone and directly called the matchmaker, Raymond. “Tristan, are you calling to set a date? I told you Sienna was reliable! Your dad found the right person through me!” “Raymond, this match isn’t going to work. Sienna and I aren’t compatible.” Raymond immediately turned hostile. “Not compatible? Tristan Parker, you’re thirty years old. What are you being so picky about? You’ll never find a wife this way!” I hung up before he could finish. Sienna watched me execute this series of moves smoothly, completely stunned. She wanted to blow up but it was too late—after all, she’d just said they should part on good terms. She glared at me hatefully, stood up, and slammed the door on her way out. From the looks of it, she wouldn’t let this go easily. Sure enough, a few days later while I was at work, my colleague Mike rushed over with news. “Tristan, you better go downstairs and check it out. Someone’s making a scene at the company entrance, cursing you out by name!” I went downstairs to find Sienna, her father, and Raymond all blocking the company’s main entrance. A crowd had gathered around them. Sienna’s father was squatting on the ground, slapping his thighs and wailing. ” God is blind! Everyone come judge this situation!” “Tristan Parker dated my daughter for half a month, scamming her for food, drinks, and affection, conning my daughter out of tens of thousands of dollars, then just walked away!” “Her mother died young. I raised her as a single father. How are we supposed to live now!” My colleagues were whispering to each other. “I really couldn’t tell. Tristan seems like such an honest guy normally. Is he really a freeloader?” “Tens of thousands of dollars? That’s way too much, isn’t it? He ate and then refused to pay?” “So shameless. Don’t let him ruin our company’s reputation!” Raymond pulled me out from the crowd, playing the mediator. “Tristan, I have to be fair here. Even if you don’t want to continue the relationship, you should return the money Sienna spent on you, right?” “Sienna’s family isn’t well-off. She spent so much money on you and kept track of every expense, clear as day!” He solemnly pulled out that same itemized list from last time and stuffed it into my arms. “Just take pity on Mr. Sullivan. Return the money. He raised Sienna all by himself—how hard that must have been. Can you really bear to watch him squat here like this?” Sienna walked over with red-rimmed eyes. “Tristan, don’t blame my dad. He’s just worried about me. I genuinely liked you. Can you give me another chance? I promise I’ll never bring up these things again.” The looks my colleagues gave me became even more strange, all shaking their heads. The commotion was too big. Our manager, Mr. Wilson, walked over with a dark expression. “Tristan Parker, I don’t want to get involved in your personal affairs, but causing a scene at the company has too negative an impact. They’ve brought out the account book. Hurry up and return the money, or the company can’t keep you.” After the manager spoke, I didn’t panic at all. Instead, I smiled.

“I won’t give you a single cent.” I said calmly, “Not only will I not give you money, I’m going to collect what you owe me.” Hearing this, Sienna’s father squatted back down and started wailing again. “Help! This punk is trying to drive us father and daughter to death!” “My daughter works so hard to earn money, working early and late every day, exhausting herself. He scammed away all the money she finally saved!” “And now he’s turning it around on us! You heartless scoundrel!” My colleagues also criticized me. “Tristan Parker, you’ve gone too far. How can you ask them for money? Playing the victim!” “Exactly! Paying back debts is only natural. Have some shame!” The manager had lost his patience. “Tristan, pay up quickly. Stop embarrassing yourself here!” I ignored them and held up the itemized list for everyone around to see. “Everyone, look carefully. This is the bill she wants me to pay.” “Sienna and I met a total of four times. She paid for two meals, and I also paid for two meals. I have payment receipts.” “Why is she calculating all four meals as expenses she paid alone?” The murmuring stopped, and people crowded over to look. I pointed at the list and continued. “To get to the restaurant, she only needed a twenty-minute Uber ride, but she recorded two hundred dollars for the fare each time. Four times makes it eight hundred.” Sienna’s father stopped wailing and jumped up, shouting. “So what if she recorded it wrong! Everyone makes accounting mistakes!” “You’re nitpicking over this tiny error because you want to dodge the debt!” “My daughter spent so much money on you, and you still have the nerve to find fault? You have no conscience at all!” But the onlookers’ expressions had already changed. “A few hundred dollars off is a small error? This is obviously inflated reporting!” “The fare doesn’t match up either. A twenty-minute ride doesn’t cost two hundred dollars. This is extortion.” “I don’t think this is as simple as it seems.” Seeing things going south, Sienna’s father rushed forward to grab the list but was blocked by several colleagues. I simply started reading it aloud. “Pre-date beauty treatment, two thousand eight hundred. Manicure, eight hundred. Eyelash extensions, six hundred. Uber fare, eight hundred. Cosmetics depreciation, one thousand…” “Sienna, you treated me to meals, but I also took you to movies and coffee. I never took advantage of you.” “But why should I pay for your beauty treatments, manicures, and eyelash extensions before our dates?” The crowd completely exploded. “What the hell? She’s charging him for beauty treatments? And manicures and lashes? Is this a blind date or a scam?” “These prices are wrong too. Beauty treatment for two thousand eight hundred? Do they think we’re idiots?” “This is ridiculous! This is clearly extortion!” The onlookers all turned against them. Sienna’s face turned red and white alternately. In desperation, she raised her voice and shouted. “Everyone, don’t let him distract you! I gave him a twenty-thousand-dollar luxury watch! That was real money!” I snorted coldly and pulled out an authentication report from my pocket, holding it up for everyone to see. “I had this watch verified at the official store. The clerk said on the spot it was a knockoff. The same model online costs a few hundred dollars with free shipping.” I handed the authentication report to a knowledgeable colleague nearby. After looking at it twice, the colleague laughed. “It’s definitely fake. Even the movement doesn’t match.” Now the crowd was truly furious, pointing at them and cursing. “She gave him a fake gift and has the nerve to make a scene at the company entrance? This is completely backwards!” “This is a scammer, isn’t it? Call the police!” I looked at Sienna, my tone ice-cold. “The watch you gave was a few-hundred-dollar fake, but the gift I gave in return was a brand-new phone worth ten thousand dollars, plus expensive tea and supplements for your father. These items add up to fifteen thousand. Return it to me now.” The onlookers also told her to return the money, and some said they should call the police. Sienna’s face turned ashen as she pulled out her phone and transferred the money. Sienna’s father tried to stop her but was pulled aside by Sienna, who whispered something to him. Her father stopped protesting. After Sienna transferred the money, she grabbed her father and ran. Before leaving, her father glared at me viciously. “This isn’t over! Just you wait!”

On the weekend, I was resting at home when someone frantically knocked on the door. My dad opened the door to find our neighbor Mrs. Davis looking anxious. “Mr. Parker, you need to go see what’s happening! Several people are livestreaming at our community entrance, saying your family scammed them out of money and affection!” I thought to myself, it’s finally here. I immediately opened the livestream app, searched the local area, and quickly found it. Sienna had found a popular streamer with hundreds of thousands of followers. The host was speaking passionately. “Everyone, today I’m going to seek justice for this infatuated girl who was scammed out of all her savings!” In the camera, Sienna looked haggard as she complained. “Tristan Parker and I dated for half a year. Our relationship was always good, and we were even talking about marriage.” “His family demanded a thirty-thousand-dollar wedding money. We scraped together every penny we had, but after he took the money, he turned on us and blocked me.” Sienna’s father was squatting on the ground wiping tears, crying heartbreakingly. “I’m a single father… those thirty thousand dollars came from selling my hometown house and borrowing from relatives!” “Now the son-in-law is gone, the house is gone, but the debt remains. We don’t even have a place to live anymore! We can’t go on!” Raymond also spoke righteously. “I’ve been a matchmaker my whole life. I’ve never seen such a black-hearted family!” “I personally watched Sienna hand thirty thousand dollars in cash to Tristan Parker’s father. His father was grinning from ear to ear when he took the money!” The livestream had hundreds of thousands of viewers flooding in, with comments overwhelmingly cursing us. “Marriage scam! Fraud!” “Expose him! Let him be socially destroyed!” “This kind of person teaches people?” My dad and I had just walked out of the community entrance when the livestream camera was shoved in our faces. Sienna’s father pointed at me and howled. “It’s him! Everyone please help me make him return the money!” He then pointed at my dad and cursed viciously. ” You call yourself an educator, but all you do is immoral things!” For a moment, both the neighbors present and the netizens in the livestream were cursing our family. “Scammer! Return the money!” My dad was at a loss, frantically waving his hands. “We didn’t take any money! My son never even dated her!” The netizens didn’t believe him at all. The comments became even more vicious. “The scammer is still trying to make excuses!” “Playing innocent! The evidence is right here!” Raymond walked over triumphantly and said to my dad. “My friend, so many people are watching. You should just return the money. Otherwise, your Tristan will never find anyone willing to marry him!” I quickly supported my dad. “Dad, don’t worry. Let me handle this.” The host came up to me. “This is the person in question, Tristan Parker. They say you took thirty thousand dollars and then blocked them. What do you have to say? When will you return the money?” I looked at the camera, neither humble nor arrogant. “Sienna and her family are making false accusations. They have no evidence. I don’t acknowledge it.” Sienna was prepared. “We gave cash! Raymond is the witness!” I snorted coldly. “If you have evidence that you were defrauded of thirty thousand dollars, why didn’t you report it to the police?” I pulled out my phone, found that group chat screenshot, held it up to the livestream camera, and said word by word. “They have no evidence, but I do!”

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