During my vacation, I received an urgent message asking me to return for overtime work. My job is highly specialized, and all my assignments are classified. I immediately booked a first-class ticket on the nearest available flight. But when I tried to board, I was stopped. “I’m sorry, ma’am, the flight is overbooked, so you’ll have to take the next flight. We’ll compensate you five hundred dollars.” The airport staff member was polite and gentle as she changed my flight information for me. I disagreed and voiced my refusal, but they acted as if they couldn’t hear me. I called the person who had booked my ticket for me. He said he had used a special channel to purchase it. No one had the authority to prevent me from boarding. The plane was taking off in forty minutes, and my flight information had already been changed. But dozens of lives at my destination were waiting for me. The airport staff member handed me the new boarding pass with both hands. Looking at the sixteen-hour wait until the next boarding time, by the time I arrived, it would probably be too late for everything. I tried to communicate again. “Sir, could you please check once more? How could first class be overbooked?” “I’m in first class, not economy.” I emphasized. The other person rolled their eyes impatiently, their tone maintaining professional gentleness. But the words dripped with sarcasm. “We know, ma’am. We all know you gritted your teeth to buy a first-class ticket.” “First time flying it, right? Couldn’t bear to leave the first-class lounge, which is why you’re so late.” “You only have yourself to blame for not watching the time.” Hearing this, I knew something was wrong. Just a moment ago, they said it was because the flight was overbooked that they wouldn’t let me board. Now their words implied I was late, which was why I couldn’t board. But the boarding pass stated that the gate closed forty minutes before departure, and I had arrived forty-five minutes before takeoff. “When I arrived, the gate was still open. Economy passengers were still rushing over. There were even people boarding after me.” “How am I late?” “Moreover, did you see me lingering in the first-class lounge?” I tried to control my anger and anxiety, attempting to reason with them. “In any case, I don’t agree to the rebooking. You must let me board.” “You also have no authority to rebook a first-class passenger who can board at any moment.” “Alright, alright, stop emphasizing that you’re in first class.” The airport staff member said impatiently. “As if you’re afraid people won’t know you’re flying first class. This is probably the only time in your life you’ll get to do it, so you can’t wait to announce it to everyone.” “How embarrassing.” He muttered under his breath, but I still heard him. I pointed at him angrily. “How can you be so rude!” Our argument attracted other waiting passengers. “What’s wrong? Which flight can’t take off?” someone asked. The staff member at the gate immediately put on a wronged expression. “This passenger arrived late, and we’ve already closed the boarding gate.” “She insists on boarding and wants the entire plane to wait for her.” “She keeps emphasizing she’s in first class, saying we can’t let the plane take off without her, and she’s going to file a complaint against us.” “We’ve been trying to convince her for ages. We’re rebooking her for free and giving her five hundred dollars in compensation, but she still won’t agree.” “We pooled that money ourselves.” Hearing this, the gathering crowd looked at me with condemning eyes. “They’re just working folks, it’s not easy for them.” “Exactly. They work hard too, and their salaries aren’t high. You’re flying first class and you’re haggling over five hundred dollars?” “Which princess escaped from home? Do you really think the whole world revolves around you?” I took a deep breath. “I arrived at the gate on time and wasn’t late.” “They first said first class was overbooked and forcibly prevented me from boarding, then changed my flight information without my consent.” “Then they accused me of not having money, of pretending to be rich and not wanting to leave the first-class lounge, which is why I was late.” “I’m just defending my rights. How am I making the world revolve around me?” The onlookers exchanged glances. Still, someone spoke up. “Well, you don’t need to make things difficult for them.” “Whether you can board or not isn’t up to them. Who knows what your situation really is?” “Exactly. Would the staff refuse to let you board for no reason?” “And what’s wrong with taking the next flight? They’re giving you compensation. Causing a disturbance here and bothering others—what a shrew.” Several men spoke righteously, muttering under their breath, “Who knows where she got the money for first class.” I was about to lose my temper when someone said, “The supervisor is here.” A man in a navy blue suit approached with several people. He spoke authoritatively. “What’s going on here? Hasn’t this gate already stopped boarding?” “Why are so many people still gathered here?”

Seeing a supervisor arrive, my heart settled down a bit. “Hello, supervisor. I’m a passenger on this flight. I arrived at the gate before it closed for check-in.” “But for some reason, the staff here found various excuses not to let me board and forcibly changed my flight.” “I only have one requirement. I’m in a hurry and must take this flight. Please investigate and let me board as soon as possible.” I calmly described the problem I encountered and stated my request. I couldn’t help thinking that if this operation hadn’t been sudden and top secret, I would suspect this staff member was sent by the enemy. Hearing my words, the supervisor adjusted his glasses. I had a strange feeling about the way he looked at me. “Ma’am, give me your passport. I’ll look into this.” Upon hearing this, I handed him my passport and anxiously checked the time on my phone. After about three or four minutes, the supervisor spoke. “Ma’am, my system shows you obtained your boarding pass five minutes before the gate closed.” “For you to get through security and arrive here, it would take at least eight minutes, not to mention this is peak holiday season.” “It really wouldn’t be possible to arrive within the designated time. I’m very sorry, ma’am, but our airport staff made no error.” I shook my head in disbelief. “How is that possible?” My voice was somewhat shrill from agitation. The supervisor maintained his gentle smile. “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but those are the facts. You can only take the next flight.” “Even the supervisor says she was late, and she still wants to argue.” “She’ll probably go crazy soon. Does whoever makes the most noise win? That’s how women are.” “Don’t say that. Not all of us women are like her. She’s really an embarrassment.” I refused to give up and confirmed the time with him repeatedly, but the answer was always, “I’m very sorry, ma’am.” The feeling of punching cotton made my stomach burn with anger. I didn’t want to use my authority to pressure them, but the situation was now urgent. I picked up my phone and had just dialed when someone roughly bumped my arm. The phone slipped from my hand and was kicked toward the gate by someone. An airport staff member carrying a chair seemed to want to step over the phone but didn’t stand steady. The chair crashed down hard on the phone. The screen went black and shattered. The female airport staff member who had bumped me and the one carrying the chair rushed to stand in front of me. Their faces were full of panic. “Ma’am, we’re truly sorry. Please don’t file a complaint against us.” “We’re willing to compensate you for your phone. Please don’t tell anyone else.” Their words caused a stir among the surrounding people. “What do they mean?” “Tell anyone else? Could this woman be someone’s mistress?” “No wonder she’s so arrogant.” “But this mistress isn’t doing very well. That broken phone is obviously a garbage brand.” “She probably doesn’t know any better. Her sugar daddy buys her a fake and she doesn’t even realize it.” “I don’t think so.” Suddenly someone spoke as if defending me. “She doesn’t seem like that type.” “She’s not wearing a single valuable thing. She couldn’t possibly be kept by someone.” “I bet she starved herself for several months to buy a first-class ticket, hoping to find a sugar daddy.” “Otherwise, why would she be so anxious and keep emphasizing she’s in first class?” As this person spoke, everyone laughed. A gleam of triumph flashed in the supervisor’s eyes. He was definitely suspicious. I shouted angrily, “Call the police!” “Since we have a dispute, call the police and have them check the surveillance footage.” “And I’m saying this right now! If I don’t get on that plane today, it’s not taking off!”

None of the onlookers around me helped me call the police. They all believed I was an emotionally unstable crazy woman. I was waiting. Now that the gate had closed and the plane was about to take off, the people at my destination would surely confirm with the airport whether I had boarded. At that point, all obstacles would naturally disappear. But I didn’t expect someone would lie about this. Some people in the crowd started livestreaming on their phones with the title: [Princess Causes Scene in Airport Lounge.] The topic, full of gender antagonism, immediately attracted countless viewers. Multiple phones were held high, pointed at my face. “You’re violating my image rights. Turn off the livestream immediately, or I’ll sue you.” I couldn’t expose my identity, so I could only hope they would fear the law and restrain themselves. But the livestreamers just laughed and didn’t take my words seriously. They interacted with their livestream audience. “See that? The princess is throwing a fit.” “Protect me, guys. I’m risking being sued to livestream this for you.” [Don’t worry, streamer. Let her sue. We’ll pay the fine.] [Don’t be afraid. We want to see how this princess’s tantrum ends.] [This is hilarious. She says if she doesn’t board, the plane can’t fly. She really thinks she’s a princess.] [Women like this are just spoiled. Slap her once and she’ll behave.] Their cameras got closer and closer, while others blocked me from retrieving my phone. My fingers clenched tightly. My breathing became rapid, and my chest felt stuffy. On one hand, I worried about the situation at my destination. On the other, I feared this place had already been infiltrated. For no reason, I was being prevented from boarding. I suppressed my emotions and begged the women in the crowd to help me call the police. Their eyes darted away, and only one person spoke. “It’s not that we won’t help you, but given your current state, we’re afraid of being backstabbed.” “Right, what if you falsely accuse us of making a fake police report? Our own travel plans would be delayed too.” Someone added quietly, with some disgust in their eyes. “Gold-digging like this is never good. People should rely on their own efforts.” Someone else kindly advised. I didn’t defend myself and continued to beg desperately. “You can record a video proving I asked you to call the police. Any problems are mine.” “If your travel plans are delayed even slightly and you suffer any losses, I’ll compensate you ten times over.” Seeing that the women on my side were softening. The supervisor’s walkie-talkie crackled. He said a few words. Under my constant persuasion, a woman finally took out her phone to record a video and help me call the police. But then two teams of people in black uniforms came running over. My heart lifted with joy. I was about to say there was no need to call the police when I saw the large words on their chests. “Security.” “Security, over here. Someone is disturbing airport order and obstructing flight departure.” The supervisor shouted loudly. Another team in black uniforms also approached. This time it was the police. The supervisor’s face paled, but after they spoke, he looked at me triumphantly again. “Arrest her.”

“Hello, we received orders to protect the last first-class passenger to board.” “May I ask what that woman’s name is?” The airport supervisor paused, operated the computer for a moment, then turned the monitor toward the lead police officer. “Hello, officers. This is the last first-class passenger to board. Her name is Anna.” “Thank you. We need to ensure her flight takes off smoothly. Is there a problem?” “It’s her!” The supervisor pointed at me. “This Ms. Juliet keeps saying if she doesn’t board, the plane can’t take off.” “She’s been disrupting airport order and delaying the normal departure of the flight.” I looked at the police officers walking toward me. Something was wrong. Weren’t they supposed to be sent to protect me? Why? Oh, right. They didn’t want to leak my information prematurely. Odom probably thought I had already boarded. This is a misunderstanding. I need to explain quickly. Thinking this, I spoke. “Officers, this is all a misunderstanding.” “Now she says it’s a misunderstanding. Who knows who was so arrogant just now, clamoring that if she didn’t board, the plane couldn’t take off.” “Now she’s scared. The princess is about to get what’s coming to her. Send some more gifts so we can celebrate.” His interruption cut off what I was about to say. I was about to continue when the police officer saluted. “Ma’am, please come with us to the station to assist with the investigation. If we confirm you’re innocent, we’ll clear your name.” They moved to grab my arms and escort me out of the airport. A surge of blood rushed to my head. I felt my whole face tighten. Anger made me shout. “Forget the damn station! I need to get on that plane. Call your superior and ask who exactly you’re supposed to be protecting!” “I need to get to Washington to save lives, do you understand? If I don’t go, many people will die!” “I’m begging you, can you please figure out what orders you actually received?!” “And make them turn off those livestreams. Does police work need to be a public spectacle?” I was so angry I was speaking without thinking. The entire police team’s faces darkened. I had not only questioned their professionalism but also their intelligence. “We’re very clear about what orders we received.” “However, this colleague is right about one thing. Please turn off all livestreams and video recordings.” After speaking, two officers behind them went to check the phones of the onlookers. The airport supervisor sidled over. “Don’t be angry, officers.” “This Ms. Juliet is just like this—unreasonable. She probably has some mental problems and thinks the whole Earth belongs to her family.” “We can just take her in for criticism and education.” Then he turned to me. “Ms. Juliet, the plane is taking off in just over ten minutes. You see, there’s no way you’re boarding that plane today.” “So tell me, is this plane taking off or not?” He smiled smugly at me. I glanced at his name tag. “Wood, Supervisor Wood.” Hearing the plane was about to take off, I actually calmed down instead. I sat in a chair behind me, leaning against the backrest with my legs crossed. “I said this plane can’t take off. Even if it takes off, it will have to fly back for me.” “Officer, I sincerely advise you to confirm once more the name of the person you’re supposed to protect.” “And check what relationship this Ms. Anna has with Supervisor Wood here.” Sure enough, hearing this, Wood’s expression changed slightly. When I heard him tell the police that the last person to board was Anna, all the airport staff members’ faces changed, and their eyes all fell on Wood. The two of them were definitely connected. I also understood why I had been prevented from boarding. A supervisor wanted to pull strings for an acquaintance and thought he’d found a soft target. My sudden change in tone and relaxed state made the police officer waver slightly. But thinking of the urgent orders from above and their serious tone, he still had his team surround me. “Ma’am, you’ve now committed a criminal offense—obstructing flight safety. We will arrest you in accordance with the law.” Two officers lifted me from my chair, and silver handcuffs were fastened around my wrists. They planned to drag me out of the airport by force. A burst of more orderly, rapid footsteps approached from afar. “Holy crap, that team is even carrying guns!”

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My husband accidentally canceled the order for the luxury necklace I’d been dreaming about. I had no choice but to try my luck on a secondhand marketplace, and incredibly, I found a girl selling one. “You’ve got great taste. This necklace is a limited edition—only one exists, and my boyfriend managed to snag it!” “I’ll tell you a secret—I didn’t actually like it that much, but my boyfriend’s stalker wanted it, which really pissed me off!” “So my boyfriend canceled that stalker’s order to make me happy, then rushed to buy it for me.” My heart sank. I clicked on the girl’s profile picture. In the photo, a man and woman had their fingers interlaced. And the scar on the man’s hand was identical to my husband’s. The computer screen reflected my pale face. My palms began to sweat. I wanted to ask more, but my fingers trembled too much to press the keyboard. Could it be a coincidence? The image of Ethan’s guilt-ridden face flashed through my mind again. “Charlotte, I really didn’t mean it. My finger slipped and hit cancel.” “Next time I’ll definitely buy you something more expensive and better!” I steadied myself and sent a message. “Hey, I see we live close to each other. Let’s add each other on SnapChat and meet up for an in-person transaction!” She readily agreed. Soon I met her at a nearby café. Just as I’d imagined, the girl sitting across from me was young and beautiful, with an innocent charm in her eyes that spoke of someone untouched by the world’s harshness. The café was warm. She took off her coat, and a hand warmer fell from her body. She picked it up and smiled at me sheepishly. “It’s all my boyfriend’s fault. He said it was cold today and insisted on putting this on me.” “Being with him, I’m turning into such a baby.” “When it gets cold, he nags me to dress warmer. During my period, he makes me hot milk. My friends tease me that I’m like a little kid.” She complained in a murmur, but pride filled every corner of her eyes and brows. I tried to comfort myself, trembling inside. It couldn’t be Ethan. My Ethan looked down on those clingy, fussy men. He always said he was meant for big things, that a mature woman shouldn’t bother him with trivial matters. So when I had cramps so bad I nearly fainted, I could only take a taxi to the hospital myself. So when I got too drunk to walk after entertaining clients, I just called a rideshare. So the man she described who took care of her every little need absolutely couldn’t be Ethan. “Charlotte, are you okay?” The girl across from me waved her hand in front of my eyes, puzzled. I snapped back to reality and smiled apologetically. “It’s nothing. I’m just checking the necklace for any issues.” The girl happily took out the necklace and placed it in front of me. “I heard this necklace’s design was inspired by some painter’s work. There’s only one. My boyfriend’s stalker waited forever to get it.” “I was originally going to throw this necklace away rather than let that bitch have it, but it’s fate that I can sell it to you instead.” I took the necklace and silently traced the iris flower on it, my eyes stinging. This necklace’s inspiration came from my late mother’s painting, which was why I’d been longing for it. Ethan knew how important this necklace was to me. It was an accident. It had to be an accident. I told myself this over and over in my mind, but my hands began to shake uncontrollably. The girl continued talking to herself. “Charlotte, you don’t know how annoying my boyfriend’s stalker is. She shamelessly throws herself at him, trying to be a homewrecker.” “She doesn’t even look at herself—so ugly, yet still trying to seduce someone.” “Look, this is what my boyfriend sent me. Isn’t this bitch disgusting?” She pulled out her phone to show me. With just one glance, all the blood in my body seemed to freeze. On her phone was a deliberately uglified photo of me. And I’d only ever sent this selfie to Ethan. I stood up abruptly, my face ashen, and threw out a sentence. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to buy it anymore.” I turned, grabbed my bag, and left. The girl’s expression changed. “Wait, what’s your problem? Didn’t we already agree?” She barely managed to chase after me and blocked me at the door. During the struggle, a delivery bike came straight at us. Just then, a figure rushed over and pulled the girl aside. I couldn’t dodge in time and was hit square on the foot by the scooter. I looked up at the person in front of me, enduring the piercing pain. The heart I’d been holding in suspense finally dropped. So it really was him.

Ethan anxiously checked whether the girl was hurt. The girl’s face lit up with delight. “Why did you come?” Ethan affectionately tapped her nose. “I was worried about you, little fool. Afraid you’d run into some bad person.” The girl then pointed at me angrily and scolded. “I really did meet a psycho. We agreed on everything, then suddenly she says she won’t buy it.” I watched as Ethan’s eyes met mine. His previously smiling expression suddenly froze. The girl looked at the man beside her suspiciously and pushed him. “Do you know her?” Ethan’s eyes darted away as he flatly denied it. “How would I know this kind of woman?” I was about to speak when he interrupted. “I’d better take you to the hospital to get checked out. Otherwise I won’t feel at ease.” With that, he pulled the girl away in a hurry. Leaving me sitting alone on the ground. After a while, a message from him popped up on my phone. “Charlotte, go home first. I’ll explain to you later.” “Trust me, I have my reasons! I love you!” A piercing pain came from my foot. It turned out he hadn’t noticed at all. I remembered when we first got together—when I got a tiny paper cut, he made such a fuss about going to the hospital. I forced myself to stand up and called my best friend, Mia. She rushed over immediately without a second word. At the hospital, it wasn’t until the doctor finished bandaging my injured leg that she finally relaxed. She’d just sat down by the hospital bed when she couldn’t help but curse angrily. “Your foot is so badly injured, and that bastard Ethan is God knows where! I called him over a dozen times and he didn’t answer.” “When he shows up, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!” I stared vacantly at the ceiling, my eyes dry and stinging. “Ethan… he’s having an affair.” Mia’s mouth dropped open in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What?! He actually dared to cheat?” “That son of a bitch! All these years, if it weren’t for you running the company inside and out, what would he be!” “Just wait, I’m going to destroy him and that homewrecker.” I stopped her. “Don’t alert them yet. Help me find out who that woman is. We’ll slap his face once we’ve collected enough evidence.” I never fought unprepared battles. Ethan and I were too deeply entangled over the years. Right now I had no concrete evidence. Acting rashly wouldn’t guarantee a complete victory. Mia patted my hand with a complicated expression. “Charlotte, don’t worry. You’ve got me.” “I’ll make sure that bastard pays the price he deserves!” It wasn’t until evening that Ethan rushed over carrying soup. “Charlotte, I didn’t know your foot was injured. How is it? Is it serious?” “I brought your favorite chicken soup. Try some.” He brought over the hot soup and even carefully blew on it to cool it before holding it to my lips. A strong ginger smell made me nauseous. I’m allergic to ginger. Ethan used to carefully pick out all the ginger from my food. I turned away and pushed it aside. The soup spilled all over the floor. His hand froze in midair, his expression stiffening. Then he smiled helplessly. “Charlotte, you’re throwing a tantrum again. You still don’t trust me?” “That girl is the heiress of Summers Corporation. I’m just playing along with her.” “Once we land that big Summers Corporation project, our company can successfully go public and you won’t have to work so hard.” “I’m doing this for our future. Be sensible and listen.” That phrase again—be sensible, listen. He spoke so righteously, his eyes full of disapproval, as if I were making a scene. Thinking of the photo Mia sent me this afternoon of a naked man and woman in a car, nausea rose in my chest. I opened my mouth, my voice hoarse. “Are you sure she’s the Summers Corporation heiress?” Ethan paused, then laughed lightly. “How could it be false? I had someone investigate long ago.” “Don’t worry, I love you most. She’s just for fun.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to deal with him anymore. He didn’t get angry. He tucked in my blanket and lay down on the accompanying bed beside me. I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night to find the bed beside me empty. I got up and had just stepped out when I heard the sounds of a man and woman panting from the doctor’s on-call room across the hall. Through the door crack, I saw that familiar figure.

The woman’s hands clutched tightly around the man’s neck. Ethan was covered in sweat but held the woman’s waist tightly, pressing her closer to himself. With a powerful thrust, the woman let out a muffled moan. “Baby, why are you being so rough?” “What if someone hears us?” Ethan laughed softly. “You little temptress. Even on duty you can’t help seducing people.” “You sent me those photos this afternoon—wasn’t that you tempting me with your uniform?” “I’ve been waiting since this afternoon. How can you not handle it already?” “Besides, so what if someone hears? Your dad owns this hospital. Who would dare say anything?” The man thrust forward again mischievously, earning a bashful laugh from the woman. My heart sank. I realized his rushing over tonight wasn’t for me at all. I recalled the information Mia sent this afternoon. Sophia Summers—a nurse at this very hospital. So he pretended to be worried about me, but what he was really thinking about was another woman’s uniform seduction. How laughable. My heart felt like it had fallen into an ice cellar, so cold I couldn’t breathe. I tremblingly took out my phone and captured the image of the two people entangled before me. Then I silently returned to the hospital room. Just as I lay down, a message popped up on my phone. “See? He loves me. All I have to do is crook my finger and he comes running back to me.” “You filthy bitch, he doesn’t love you anymore. If you weren’t still somewhat useful, he would’ve dumped you long ago.” “I’m warning you—get lost while you still can. Don’t humiliate yourself.” It was Sophia Summers. She’d seen me. She’d deliberately called Ethan over. I coldly looked at the compromising photos she sent, one after another, then downloaded and saved them. Since the enemy was foolish enough to provide evidence herself, I would gladly accept it. When I woke up the next morning, the space beside me was still empty. A message from Ethan lay on my phone. “Charlotte, something urgent came up at the company. I’m going to handle it. Discharge yourself.” “Be good. I’ll bring you a present tonight.” Though I’d expected it, my heart still couldn’t help but ache. I packed up my things alone and prepared to handle the discharge, but at a corridor corner I ran head-on into the man who’d just said he was busy handling company business. Ethan was coaxing a pouting Sophia Summers with a grin. “Sweetheart, I lined up early this morning to buy these macarons. Just try one bite.” My brow twitched slightly. I used to love these macarons, but Ethan always said waiting in line was a waste of time. So he didn’t mind wasting time—he just minded wasting time on me. The woman huffed and threw a tantrum. “Who knows if you bought them for me or for that bitch? If I hadn’t found out, you were even going to buy her a present!” The man coaxed her gently. “Of course they’re for you. I already told you, I’m just using her. With the company about to go public, once the project succeeds, I’ll break up with her immediately.” “The present I was going to give her was just a freebie from when I bought your necklace. You’re even jealous of that?” I couldn’t take it anymore and threw my bag at him. “Ethan, this is what you call playing along?” The man looked up and met my eyes, a flash of panic in them. Sophia Summers beside him furrowed her brow and pushed me hard with disgust on her face. “Why haven’t you left yet, you bitch? Still haunting us like a ghost. Who gave you the nerve to hit someone?” I barely steadied myself and was about to slap her across the face when Ethan reached out and blocked me. The scar on the back of his hand was particularly clear. That was from when we’d just started our business and landed a big project, then got targeted by competitors for revenge. He’d blocked a bottle someone smashed at me with his bare hand, leaving that scar. And now he was using that same hand to block my retaliation against someone else. Ethan grabbed my hand, impatience on his face. “Charlotte, that’s enough. You’re going too far.” “Go home first. Don’t make a scene here. We’ll talk about it slowly when we get back.” People gradually gathered around, pointing and whispering at us. “Look at that guy—this woman’s probably a mistress coming to demand money.” “These days mistresses are so brazen. What is the world coming to?” I was about to retort when Sophia Summers in front of me pulled out a booklet and threw it at my head. “She is a mistress. Already divorced my boyfriend, but still won’t let go.” I looked at the divorce certificate on the ground, my expression freezing.

Then I laughed. “I didn’t even know I’d been divorced.” Sophia Summers stood with her hands on her hips, looking at me with contempt. “You old hag, last time you clearly agreed to divorce him, and now you’re playing dumb.” Panic flashed in Ethan’s eyes. He didn’t dare look at me directly. I picked up the certificate from the ground and saw the pages without an official seal. Suddenly I understood. Ethan had forged a divorce certificate to deceive her. I remembered on our wedding registration day, Ethan hadn’t slept all night and dragged me to the city hall first thing in the morning. I’d teased him for being as eager as a child. He held the bright red marriage certificate with reddened eyes and hugged me. “Charlotte, how fortunate I am to marry you.” “I’ll keep this marriage certificate safe. Even when we’re old, it’ll be buried with us.” And now he’d so easily given it up. Even if it was fake, it was equally disgusting! I was about to speak with a dark expression when Ethan raised his hand and slapped me. “Haven’t you made enough of a scene? Aren’t you embarrassed enough!” While I was stunned, he pulled Sophia Summers away in a hurry. Leaving me sitting alone. I looked at their retreating figures, my chest aching more and more, until I finally passed out. When I opened my eyes again, I only saw Mia by the hospital bed. Her eyes were full of anxiety and heartache. “Charlotte, you… you’re pregnant.” “The doctor said you have PCOS. If you lose this one, you might never be able to be a mother again.” My heart clenched. I slowly touched my abdomen—a life was beginning to grow here. A message from Ethan popped up on my phone. “Charlotte, you went too far today, embarrassing Sophia in public and nearly making me lose face.” “I already told you, I’m just playing along. In one week, Summers Corporation will sign the project contract.” “After that I’ll break it off with her and come back to you. Let’s both calm down for now.” Looking at Ethan’s words, waves of nausea churned in my stomach. How could someone speak of cheating so righteously? Garbage should be thrown away. If we’re breaking up, we should break up cleanly. Before I could make a decision, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I collapsed to the floor, and the medical staff rushed me into the operating room. When I woke up, the doctor told me I had lost the baby due to the trauma from the scooter accident and the emotional distress. My heart shattered, but there was nothing I could do. Even as I was wheeled out of the operating room, pale-faced, Ethan never sent me another message. His social media was also silent. Mia handed me her phone with red eyes. “That bastard! You’re here suffering, and he’s traveling the world with his mistress.” It wasn’t that his social media was silent—he’d chosen to block me. I silently scrolled through the man’s feed. It was all sweet photos of him and Sophia Summers. They went to the Arctic to see the Northern Lights together, to Bali to watch the sunset—all the places he’d promised to take me. He’d always told me he had no time, but now he finally had time—to go with another woman. Looking at the man’s genuinely happy smile in the photos, I looked up and smiled reassuringly at Mia. “Don’t worry. Soon it’ll be their turn to cry.” After being discharged, I immediately met with a lawyer, then met with someone else. Summers Corporation was undergoing earth-shattering changes, but the two people still playing outside were completely unaware. The day before the signing ceremony between Luke Corporation and Summers Corporation, I received a call from Ethan. “Charlotte, you’ve calmed down enough by now, haven’t you?” “Although I haven’t been with you lately, I’ve still been thinking of you. I booked you a room at the hot spring resort in the Northside. Go relax.” The Northside was miles away from the signing location. He was worried about me and wanted to send me far away. As if. After hanging up, a smile curved my lips. The next morning, watching the location of my car on his phone move farther and farther away, Ethan finally relaxed and held Sophia Summers’s hand, waiting for Summers Corporation’s representatives to arrive for the signing. But even past the appointed time, Summers Corporation’s representative still hadn’t appeared. Sophia Summers smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll call my dad.” But the line was busy. A bad feeling suddenly welled up in Ethan’s heart. The door opened. Everyone looked up at once. Sophia Summers cried out in shock. “How is it you?!”

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After three years in a coma from a car accident, the first thing I heard when I woke up was my wife’s voice. “Ethan, our son got a medal at kindergarten today. He says when Daddy wakes up, he wants to give it to him.” My heart ached, my nose tingling with emotion. These three years, she’d raised our child alone while caring for me in my coma. How hard that must have been. “Mommy,” a small voice piped up—our son’s. “Does Daddy not like me anymore? Why won’t he wake up?” “Silly boy,” Claire laughed softly, though her voice was thick with tears. “Daddy loves you most of all. He’ll wake up very soon.” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I forced my eyes open. But standing by my hospital bed were two people I had never seen before in my life. This was a woman in her early thirties. Regular features, gold-rimmed glasses, wearing a well-tailored business suit. She held a warm towel in her hand, frozen mid-air. Next to her stood a boy about five or six years old. Dressed in a little suit, his short hair neatly combed, clutching a teddy bear. I didn’t know them. Absolutely didn’t know them. My heartbeat accelerated instantly, blood rushing to my brain. Instinctively, I jerked my hand back, my body shrinking uncontrollably toward the headboard. “Who are you? I don’t know you. Why are you in my hospital room?” The woman froze. The towel dropped onto the blanket. Her eyes widened, her face filled with disbelief, then her eyes quickly reddened and she lunged forward to embrace me. “You’re awake! You’re finally awake! Doctor! Someone come quick!” She turned toward the door and shouted, her voice carrying wild joy and choking emotion. The little boy also rushed to the bedside, grabbing the hem of my hospital gown, bursting into tears. “Daddy, you’re finally talking to me! I missed you so much!” I struggled desperately, pushing the woman’s shoulders away, tearing the boy’s hands off. “Don’t touch me! I don’t know you! Where’s Claire? Where’s my wife Claire? And my son—where did you take them?” I gasped for air, my eyes fixed on these two strangers. The woman stumbled backward from my push, retreating two steps. The wild joy on her face froze, replaced by deep shock and hurt. She tried to touch me again, but her hand stopped mid-air. “What are you talking about? I am Claire.” “This is our son. Look at me carefully. Don’t you remember us?” I stared hard at her face. Not Claire. Absolutely not. Claire had a small mole at the corner of her mouth that looked especially gentle when she smiled. Claire’s chin was more pointed too, her eyes more curved. This woman in front of me was completely different. “Bullshit! You’re not Claire at all! Who are you? What do you want?” I grabbed the water glass from beside my pillow and smashed it on the floor. The sound of shattering glass exploded in the hospital room. Hearing the commotion, several doctors and nurses in white coats rushed in from outside. Dr. Thompson, the head physician, strode quickly to my bedside and held down my flailing arms. “Mr. Wilson, calm down! You just woke up, you can’t get too emotional!” I grabbed Dr. Thompson’s sleeve and pointed at the woman, shouting. “Dr. Thompson, I don’t know them! They’re not my family! Please call the police and get them out of here!” Dr. Thompson frowned, glanced at the woman, then back at me. She sighed, her tone carrying a trace of pity. “Mr. Wilson, take a deep breath first.” “This is indeed your wife, Claire.” “These three years, she’s been at the hospital with you every day.” “All these years, she’s been the one taking care of you.” “As for this little boy, he’s your son.” “Based on your current condition, our preliminary diagnosis is that because you suffered a severe car accident with frontal lobe damage, you’ve developed transient prosopagnosia, commonly known as face blindness.” “Your current reaction is quite normal.” I was stunned. Frontal lobe damage? Memory confusion? How was that possible? Claire’s face was crystal clear in my mind. I remembered the restaurant where we had our first date. I remembered how she nodded with tears in her eyes when she accepted my proposal. I remembered her weak but happy smile when our son was born. These memories were so vivid, as if they’d happened yesterday. How could they be confused?

The woman who claimed to be Claire approached with red-rimmed eyes, her voice hoarse. “It’s okay.” “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember me, as long as you’re awake.” Then she began recounting those moments that belonged only to us. “I really am Claire.” “Do you remember the Japanese restaurant we went to on our first date? You insisted on ordering the crazy spicy wasabi octopus and ended up crying from the heat.” “Do you remember the day our son was born? I was crying in pain in the delivery room, and you were so nervous outside that you dropped our documents down a drain. The building manager had to fish them out for half an hour.” “Have you forgotten all of this?” She was trying to prove her identity through these details. My brain exploded with a boom. She was completely right. These were intimate details that only Claire and I knew. I stared at her hard, trying to find any flaw in her face. Nothing. Her eyes were filled with deep affection, pain, and the joy of recovery. The little boy tugged at my sleeve, crying so hard he could barely breathe. “Daddy, don’t you want me anymore?” “When you were sick, I drew pictures for you every day. The nurse said if you saw them you’d wake up. Will you look at them, please?” I looked at the little boy’s completely unfamiliar face, my heart twisting painfully. Had I really gone crazy? Had my brain really malfunctioned, replacing my wife and son’s faces with those of strangers? Dr. Thompson patted my shoulder. “Mr. Wilson, there are many cases of post-traumatic sequelae in medicine.” “You just woke up. Cooperate with treatment and recover slowly.” “Claire, please take the child outside and let him rest alone for a while.” The woman nodded, wiped her tears, and bent down to pick up the little boy. At the doorway, she looked back at me, her eyes full of longing. The hospital room door closed. I lay alone in bed, staring at the ceiling. Everything around me seemed absurd. Who were they? Had I really lost my memory? Over the next few days, I cooperated with all the doctors’ examinations. MRI, EEG, psychological evaluation. All the reports pointed to the same conclusion: my brain had organic damage causing cognitive impairment. To prove these conclusions, the doctors even showed me our photos and family portraits. And videos of our past life together. Trying to use these to reawaken my memories. The woman claiming to be Claire came every day. She cooked all kinds of dishes I loved in different ways. Steak, sushi. The taste was incredibly identical to what I remembered Claire cooking. She would sit by my bed, holding my hand, telling me about what happened over these three years. How she sought medical treatment everywhere, how our son was bullied at kindergarten, how she cried looking at my photos every night. She spoke with such genuine emotion, tears streaming down her face. Several times, I almost wavered. Had I really gotten sick? But one extremely small detail instantly brought me back to clarity. That afternoon, she peeled an apple and handed it to me. “Eat some fruit to get your vitamins.” I looked at the apple offered to my mouth but didn’t take it. The real Claire was severely allergic to apples. If she touched even a little apple juice, her skin would break out in red rashes, and she could even have difficulty breathing. So all these years, we never bought apples at home, not even apple-flavored drinks. I deliberately pretended to have no appetite and pushed her hand away. “I don’t want any. You eat it.” Without the slightest hesitation, she pulled back her hand, took a big bite of the apple, chewed and swallowed it. “It’s sweet. Sure you don’t want any?” I watched her completely normal reaction, cold sweat instantly seeping from my palms.

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My sister Rebecca’s engagement party was coming up. My mother Linda smiled warmly as she helped me try on my bridesmaid dress, telling me I was the most beautiful girl in the world. But the next second, I heard her vicious calculations from the depths of her mind: “The waistline of this dress is perfect—it’ll cover the incision nicely. Next week, after we harvest her kidney for Rebecca, Rebecca can marry into the Harrison family in style. As for whether this one survives the operating table… well, that’ll be up to fate.” In that moment, I felt like I’d plunged into an icy abyss. So I was never the beloved younger daughter. I was just a spare blood bag they’d carefully raised for eighteen years to use for Rebecca! Since you showed no humanity, don’t blame me for tearing down this facade of a family. Spotlights shone on the enormous floor-length mirror. I stood on a raised platform wearing a pure white bridesmaid dress. Linda knelt at my feet, several pins clenched between her lips, her hands deftly adjusting the fabric at my waist. She looked up at me, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes filled with love and tenderness. “Our Cassie is so beautiful. When your sister gets married, you’ll definitely be the prettiest bridesmaid there.” She reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, her fingertips warm against my skin. I looked at our reflection in the mirror—at the face that resembled hers—and started to form a happy smile. But then, abruptly, a cold, sharp voice echoed in my mind. *[This waistline is perfect. Next week after the surgery, we’ll slap some gauze on the wound, and this dress will hide everything.]* *[As long as she doesn’t die on the operating table, Rebecca’s illness will be cured. The wedding money and villa from the Harrisons will be secured.]* *[Even if this worthless girl does have an accident, trading one cheap life for our family’s prosperity for the rest of our lives—totally worth it.]* My smile froze instantly on my face. All the blood in my body seemed to drain away in that instant. My hands and feet turned ice-cold, like dead flesh. I stared hard at Linda in front of me. Her lips hadn’t moved at all. She still wore that motherly smile. But that voice—it was unmistakably hers, with a chilling calculation that made my skin crawl. “Linda…” I heard my own voice trembling. Linda immediately stood up, gripping my hands with a face full of concern. “What’s wrong? Is the dress too tight? Why is your face so pale?” *[Did this girl figure something out? No way. I need to watch her closely these next few days. Can’t let anything go wrong now.]* I bit down hard on my tongue until I tasted blood, barely suppressing the fear rising in my chest. “I’m fine. Maybe I didn’t sleep well last night. Just a little low blood sugar.” I forced out a weak smile. Linda breathed a sigh of relief and patted the back of my hand. “That’s good. The SATs are coming up soon—you need to take care of yourself. Your sister is counting on you to be there when she gets married.” I lowered my eyelids, hiding the coldness in my eyes. Be there when she gets married? More like hand over my kidney. Maybe even my life. This was my last day as their obedient daughter.

On the drive home, Richard was behind the wheel. He’d always been a man of few words, but today he kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Cassie, take tomorrow off from school and go to the hospital for a full physical. You’re about to start college—need to make sure you’re healthy.” His tone was casual, like he was discussing something trivial. I leaned against the car window, watching the scenery fly past, saying nothing. Linda immediately chimed in. “That’s right. Your sister coughed up blood again today. She’s getting an IV at the hospital. If you were half as precious as your sister, I’d feel so much better.” *[Tomorrow once the compatibility results come back, we’ll schedule the surgery immediately. Richard’s already bought the drugs off the black market. She won’t have a choice.]* I suddenly gripped the seatbelt tighter, my knuckles turning white. Eighteen years. I’d finally seen this so-called family for what it really was. The living room walls were covered with Rebecca’s glamour shots from childhood to now. She wore princess dresses and tiaras—the treasured jewel held in the palm of the entire family. As for me? I didn’t have a single solo photo. The only picture I appeared in was a group shot from middle school graduation, pressed under the glass of the coffee table at the very bottom. All my life, if Rebecca coughed once, Linda would be frantic with worry. If Rebecca had a fever, Richard would drive across half the city in the middle of the night to buy her the strawberries she wanted. And me? When I had a 103-degree fever and was barely conscious, Linda just tossed two fever reducers on my nightstand. “Be good, Cassie. I have to go to the hospital to be with Rebecca. Take your medicine and sleep it off.” I used to think they favored Rebecca more because she wasn’t healthy. I tried so hard to be good, studied so hard, did all the housework—all just to earn even a single look of approval from them. Now I understood. I was never their daughter at all. I was just a “spare blood bag” they’d carefully raised and were ready to slaughter at any time—all for Rebecca.

At dinnertime, the table was laden with lavish dishes. Linda brought over a steaming bowl of beef stew and personally placed it in front of me. “Cassie, eat up. It’ll be good for you.” She smiled so kindly, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothing out. *[I put half a sleeping pill in this soup. Once she’s out cold, we’ll take her straight to the hospital first thing tomorrow morning to draw blood. Saves us the trouble of dealing with a fuss.]* I looked at the bowl with its oily sheen, my stomach churning. “Thanks, Linda.” I picked up the bowl and stirred it gently with my spoon. Linda sat across from me, eyes fixed on my every movement without blinking. “Hurry up and eat. It’ll get fishy if it gets cold,” she urged. I scooped up a spoonful and brought it to my lips, then pretended to be burned and started coughing violently. “Burned! So hot!” I bent over, spitting all the soup into a tissue I’d prepared earlier, then quickly stuffed it into my sleeve. “You careless child.” Linda frowned, a flash of impatience in her tone. *[What a useless thing. Can’t even drink soup without choking. Hurry up and finish so she can sleep. Can’t delay tomorrow.]* I looked up, my eyes red from coughing. “Linda, I really can’t drink any more. I’m going to bed.” Linda looked at the bowl still more than half full, her expression darkening. “No way. You have to finish it! I spent all afternoon making this!” She suddenly stood up, grabbed the bowl, and tried to force it down my throat. I dodged to the side. The soup splashed onto the tablecloth. “Linda! I really can’t drink any more!” I raised my voice. Richard slammed his fork down hard on the table with a dull thud. “What kind of way is that to talk to your mother? She told you to drink, so drink!” I looked at their faces as they gradually shed their masks, the coldness in my heart growing deeper. I couldn’t confront them head-on right now. I took a deep breath, putting on a look of surrender, picked up the bowl, and drank it down in big gulps. Except each time, I cleverly held the liquid in my mouth, then spit it into the sponge hidden in my sleeve while pretending to wipe my mouth. After the last swallow, I set the empty bowl heavily on the table. “I’m done. Can I go to bed now?” Linda’s expression finally softened, revealing a satisfied smile. “That’s more like it. Go on, get some good sleep.” *[The drug takes effect in half an hour. Tonight’s in the bag.]*

Back in my room, I immediately locked the door. I rushed to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, stuck my fingers down my throat, and forced myself to vomit. I didn’t stop until I’d thrown up everything in my stomach, even the acid. I collapsed weakly against the sink. In the mirror, my face was deathly pale, my eyes bloodshot—like a ghost crawling out of hell. I didn’t cry. My tears had dried up the moment I saw the truth. I dug deep in my backpack and pulled out a small glass vial, carefully collecting the residual soup squeezed from the sponge in my sleeve. This was evidence of their crime. I pulled out an old, obsolete phone, connected it to a power bank, hid it in the pile of clutter under my bed, and activated the long-term recording function. After finishing all this, I lay in bed, closed my eyes, and waited quietly. Midnight. Light footsteps came from outside the door. Click—the lock was opened from the outside with a spare key. I slowed my breathing and lay completely still. Linda and Richard tiptoed to my bedside. “Is she asleep?” Richard whispered. Linda waved her hand in front of my eyes, then pushed my shoulder. “Out cold. This drug is strong—couldn’t wake a pig.” She laughed coldly, her tone devoid of any pity for her daughter—only the satisfaction of a successful scheme. “Alright, quit talking. Hurry up and get the consent form,” Richard urged. The sound of rustling papers filled the air. “Here, hold her thumb and press it right here.” Linda directed. I felt a rough hand grab my right thumb and press it toward something cold—an ink pad. *[Once she’s stamped her thumbprint, this girl won’t be able to fly away even with wings. Even if she wakes up later, it’ll be in black and white. She won’t be able to deny it.]* Just as my fingertip was about to touch that so-called “voluntary organ donation consent form,” I suddenly opened my eyes. In the darkness, my eyes shone brightly. “Linda, Richard—what are you doing?”

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I arrived at the wedding venue in my wedding dress to find an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiancé Holt pulled his childhood friend Chelsea over and handed me a pair of boxing gloves with a smile. “Lynette, this is a tradition from back home. The bride has to wrestle with the groomsmen in the ring—it’s for good luck. I specifically asked Chelsea to go up with you. Just go through the motions.” Looking at Chelsea, who always seemed so fragile and sickly, I didn’t think twice and stepped into the ring. But the next second, her expertly executed roundhouse kick knocked me out cold with a severe concussion. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Holt held Chelsea’s hand as he said to me: “The guests already sent so many wedding gifts. The wedding can’t be without a bride. Chelsea is willing to take care of me in your place. You’re so kind—I’m sure you won’t mind, right?” Tormented by extreme humiliation and severe depression, I wheeled myself to the rooftop of the wedding suite and threw myself off. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of the national Sanda champion training facility. “Coach, if I train for one month, can I punch someone’s head off?”

The coach looked me up and down, his gaze lingering for three seconds on my skinny arms and legs. He snorted with laughter. “Punch someone’s head off? With that tiny frame of yours, one slap would send you flying.” I didn’t say a word. I just pulled out a stack of cash from my bag and slapped it on the table. Fifty thousand dollars. My savings from two years of secret stashing. The coach contemptuously pushed the money back. “I don’t need this pocket change.” But when I rolled up my sleeve to show him the bruises from when Holt had drunkenly beaten me, the coach simply picked up the liability waiver on his desk and pushed it toward me. “Sign this. The facility takes no responsibility for any accidents during training.” “Including but not limited to fractures, concussions, and internal bleeding!” I grabbed the pen and quickly signed my name. The coach put away the agreement, and the smirk on his face instantly vanished. “Alright, starting today, I’ll train you at the intensity of a professional Sanda athlete before retirement.” “I don’t know if you’ll be able to punch someone’s head off after a month, but you’ll definitely want to punch your own head off after I’m done with you.” On the first day, my sparring partner threw me forty-seven times. Every time my back slammed into the mat, scenes from my past life flashed before my eyes. Chelsea’s roundhouse kick had knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed, tubes running through my entire body. Holt stood at the foot of the bed holding Chelsea’s hand, a troubled expression on his face. “Lynette, the guests sent so many gifts. The wedding can’t be without a bride. Chelsea is willing to take care of me in your place. You’re so kind—I’m sure you won’t mind, right?” Would I not mind? He got a marriage license with Chelsea on the third day of my paralysis. Using my money, living in my house. Everyone praised Holt for being loyal and devoted, praised Chelsea for being kind and virtuous. Not a single person asked whether a bride who’d been kicked into a severe concussion and paralyzed from the waist down could even survive. Thinking of this, I climbed up from the mat and waved at my sparring partner. “Again.” The sparring partner glanced at the coach. The coach nodded. “Go.” That night I lay on the hard bed in the facility dorm, covered in bruises. My phone screen lit up. Holt sent me a message on SnapChat. “Lynette, just finished working overtime and eating. I’m keeping an eye on everything with the wedding planner. You just relax and wait to be the most beautiful bride.” I stared at the words “working overtime,” then swiped to open Ins. Chelsea had posted three minutes ago. A selfie in a wedding dress. In the background, draped over the arm of a sofa, was a deep blue Hermès tie—the birthday gift I’d given Holt last month. The caption was just one line: “Only the favored one gets the privilege of trying on dresses.” I gripped my phone and opened SnapChat, sending Holt a voice message. “Honey, you’ve worked so hard. I’m leaving everything with the wedding planner to you. I have complete faith in you.” Then I typed. “By the way, honey, I found this limited edition haute couture wedding dress. There are only three in the world. The deposit is two hundred thousand. What do you think?” “Isn’t that a bit expensive? A regular wedding dress would look just as good.” “But I’m only getting married once in my life. And didn’t you say you’d give me the most spectacular wedding in the city?” Silence on the other end for nearly two minutes. Finally, one word came back: “Fine.” The corner of my mouth twitched. I turned off my phone and rolled over to face the wall. This wedding dress was a trendy short style—perfect for throwing punches! Holt, oh Holt. In my last life, you took my money, my house, and tried to take my life. This time, I’ll drain you dry first.

During the day at the office, I discussed wedding dress styles with colleagues and tasted wedding cake samples, playing the happy bride to perfection. After work, I dove straight into the gym. I’d put on my protective gear, strap on my gloves, and the mouth that had just been texting “honey” would be gritting its teeth counting reps as I pounded the punching bag. The coach designed a special training regimen for me focused on defending against and countering roundhouse kicks. “You said your opponent specializes in roundhouse kicks?” “Yes.” “What level?” “Underground fight club sparring partner.” The coach frowned. “People from underground fight clubs have dirty leg techniques. They don’t follow proper form—they kick straight for vital points.” He pulled up footage from an underground fight to show me. “See that? They make a small hip movement before they kick. Very fast, less than 0.3 seconds.” “What you need to do is dodge sideways to deflect the force within those 0.3 seconds, then close in for infighting.” I nodded and practiced over and over. When I backed a six-foot-tall muscular guy into a corner, he instinctively protected his groin. The coach cursed him for being useless, but I saw the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. That evening, my best friend Sophie came to pick me up from the gym. When she saw the black and blue marks all over my arms, her eyes immediately welled up. “Lynette, have you lost your mind? Why are you torturing yourself like this?” I took off my protective gear and twisted open a bottle of water, downing a couple of gulps. “Look at what I investigated.” I handed her my phone. On the screen were screenshots of transaction records sent by a private investigator. Holt’s online loans: eighty-three thousand dollars. Sixty-two thousand of it spent on a Cartier bracelet. Recipient: Chelsea. Sophie’s eyes went wide. “That bastard took out loans to buy Cartier for that woman? What has he ever bought you? For your birthday, a nine-dollar bouquet of baby’s breath with free shipping! Call off the wedding, Lynette! Don’t marry him!” I shook my head and took back my phone. “That’s exactly why I can’t call it off. I need to make him get on his knees and cough up everything he’s swallowed.” Sophie looked at me, her expression changing. “Lynette, I don’t know exactly what you’re planning to do, but whatever it is, I’m on your side.” I watched her leave, then bent down to continue hitting the punching bag. Three days before the wedding, I received the investigator’s final audio recording, captured in Holt’s car. The recording featured Chelsea’s voice. “Holt, after the wedding she’ll be finished. That house in her name was bought with cash, right? When you transfer it to your name, we can move in together. Won’t that be perfect?” Holt laughed. “What’s the rush? After we get her house and transfer out her savings, then the marriage will have been worth it.” Chelsea giggled. “Holt, you’re so bad.” “Do you like it?” “I love it.” The recording cut off there. I sat on the bench in the gym locker room and listened to it three times. My hands were steady enough to back up that recording to three different cloud storage accounts. Then I transferred the final payment to the investigator with a note: Excellent work, exceeded expectations.

Two days before the wedding, Holt’s mother came to my door. She was carrying a bag of discounted fruit from the supermarket. She plopped down on my sofa, crossed her legs, and started issuing orders. “Lynette, I want to discuss something with you.” “That wedding house of yours was bought in full before marriage, right? Look, after you and Holt get married, you’ll be family. It looks bad for a family’s house to have just one person’s name on it.” “Add Holt’s name to it. When relatives and friends see it, they’ll think you two have such a good relationship.” I held my teacup without saying anything. “Chelsea even said that after a couple gets married, the house should be shared. You can’t be so selfish.” An outsider making decisions for me, and this mother-in-law thought it was perfectly natural. I took a deep breath and squeezed out an obedient smile. “Mom’s right. Give me the property deed and I’ll go to the housing authority tomorrow.” My mother-in-law’s face lit up. She pulled the property deed out of her bag and handed it over. Good grief, she even carried the property deed with her, just waiting for me to say those words. I took the property deed and saw off my mother-in-law. As soon as I closed the door, the smile vanished from my face. I took the property deed straight to a real estate agency and put the house up for emergency sale. The 3.8 million dollar house sold for 3.5 million. Though I lost a bit, it was better than letting Holt swallow it whole. The money arrived that same day. I transferred it all to a private overseas account. In my past life, Holt had sold this house and didn’t give me a single cent. This life, he wouldn’t touch a single brick. When I got home, Holt had miraculously appeared in the kitchen, holding a bowl of dark liquid he handed to me. “Lynette, you haven’t been looking well these past couple days. I specially made you some calming soup. Drink it and get a good night’s sleep tonight so you can be the most beautiful bride the day after tomorrow.” I took the bowl. A medicinal smell wafted up. In my past life, he’d used this bowl of soup to make me sleep for a full ten hours the night before the wedding, giving Chelsea plenty of time to transform the wedding venue into a fighting ring. I brought the bowl to my lips, pretending to drink. The instant he turned around, I spat it into a tissue, crumpled it up, and stuffed it in my pocket. “Honey, it’s delicious. Thank you.” A flash of satisfaction crossed Holt’s eyes. “Get to bed early. We still have rehearsal tomorrow.” He grabbed his jacket and left the bedroom, closing the guest room door to make a call. I pressed myself against the wall and listened to a couple sentences. “Chelsea, she drank it. She’s sleeping like a dead pig. The day after tomorrow is foolproof.” The voice on the other end belonged to Chelsea: “Holt, should I kick her left temple first or her right temple the day after tomorrow?” Holt laughed. “Whatever makes you happy. Either way, after you kick her, she’ll spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair.” I retreated to my bedroom and locked the door. I sat down at my desk, opened my laptop, and organized all the evidence I’d collected over these days into a PPT, arranged by timeline. The title was four words: “The Groom’s True Story.” I set up a timed playback program and linked it to the account for the wedding venue’s projection screen. After finishing all this, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. No. I was a blade unsheathed.

The wedding day. Six in the morning. Sophie arrived right on time to help with my makeup. She unwrapped that two-hundred-thousand-dollar limited edition haute couture wedding dress, held it up to me, and her hands trembled. “Lynette… what are all these bruises on your arms…” “Don’t worry about it. Just help me apply extra thick concealer.” Sophie bit her lip and didn’t ask again. She applied three layers of concealer, barely covering the bruises. Despite the injuries, the muscle definition on the inside of my forearms was clearly visible. With the dress on and the veil in place, I turned a half-circle in front of the mirror. The woman in the mirror wore a form-fitting white short dress, like she was wearing white armor. They are the same as the waste who was kicked to the point of shattering his skull and paralyzed in a wheelchair a month ago. The Lynette from my past life had already died falling from the rooftop. The one who came back to life had crawled out of hell. At eight o’clock sharp, the wedding car arrived downstairs. Holt wore a well-tailored black suit and stood by the car door waiting for me, his cheeks clean-shaven, his shoes polished to a shine. When he saw me, his eyes brightened. I smiled and took his arm, getting into the car. Chelsea sat in the passenger seat wearing a bridesmaid dress, her hair in a low ponytail, light makeup on her face. Seeing me get in the car, she turned around and forced out a weak smile. “Lynette, you look so beautiful today.” Then she covered her mouth and coughed twice. I smiled and squeezed her hand. “Chelsea, thank you for your hard work today. You’re not feeling well but you’re still being my bridesmaid.” “It’s no trouble. Being able to witness Lynette’s happiness makes me happier than anyone.” Holt glanced at Chelsea in the rearview mirror. Chelsea looked back at him. That glance was extremely quick, less than a second, but I clearly saw the smugness, excitement, and impatience in it. The wedding car drove all the way to the Waldorf, the city’s most upscale hotel. Flower arches, red carpet, both sides lined with flower baskets sent by guests. Holt got out first, came around to my side and opened the door, bending down in a gentlemanly gesture. “Lynette, we’re here.” I lifted my skirt and got out, taking his arm. We walked through the corridor and pushed open the banquet hall doors. All the guests turned their heads in unison. Thunderous applause. I scanned the venue. The flowers, lighting, and table arrangements were all exactly as shown in the wedding plan. Except in the center of the stage, where the champagne tower should have been, stood an octagonal fighting ring. The ring was surrounded by protective ropes, the floor covered with thick blue wrestling mats. On the metal rack at the edge hung two pairs of brand new boxing gloves. I pretended to be surprised and asked Holt. “What is… this?” Holt gently patted the back of my hand, his tone natural. “Don’t be nervous, Lynette. This is a tradition from back home. The bride has to wrestle with the groomsmen in the ring—it’s called sharing good fortune. It’s just a traditional custom.” He stepped aside. Chelsea emerged from behind him, holding a pair of boxing gloves. She still wore that same expression, her voice very soft. “Lynette, Holt insisted I go up. I couldn’t refuse. Don’t worry, I’m so weak, I don’t have the strength of even one of your fingers. Let’s just go through the motions.” The relatives below, not understanding what was happening, started heckling. “Go on! When in Rome!” “Don’t be shy, bride!” “Chelsea’s so tiny a breeze could knock her over—what are you afraid of?” The noise grew louder and louder. Everyone was laughing, making a fuss. Not a single person thought there was anything wrong with this. Just like in my past life. I was silent for a full ten seconds, then raised my head and looked into Holt’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it.” Holt froze. I paused, then continued. “But I have one condition. If anything unexpected happens in the ring, no one blames anyone. We sign a liability waiver.” I took a pre-prepared document from Sophie and spread it open in front of Holt. Black text on white paper, the terms crystal clear. “During the sparring match, both parties bear full responsibility for any personal injuries sustained. The other party is not liable for compensation and cannot pursue any legal responsibility.” Holt glanced down at it twice, unable to suppress the upward curve of his mouth. In his view, I was digging my own grave. Chelsea’s eyes lit up. She snatched the pen and signed her name. After she signed the agreement, I turned and handed the document to Sophie for safekeeping. Then, in front of more than three hundred guests waiting to watch the show, I slowly put on my gloves and knee pads.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “396123”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In my third year as a blind massage therapist, my ex-husband Damien Hunt brought his employees to my shop. When he saw me, he remained perfectly calm. I served him just like any other customer. Until his phone rang. The ringtone was a song I had once sung. I froze for a moment. His colleague teased him: “I never would’ve guessed Mr. Hunt was into this girly pop music.” Damien smiled as he explained: “My ex-wife recorded it when she was younger.” Just as he was about to leave, Damien suddenly turned back: “Chloe, I’ve never forgotten you. Are you sure you want to keep raising my child and continue living like this?” After a long silence, Damien let out a sigh. “Chloe, look at all those calluses on your hands. Can you really raise a child properly?” “Just apologize to Sydney, and I can take you both home right now to live comfortably.” I didn’t move, just calmly took out my phone. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Hunt. Just leave us a good review.” Damien didn’t move. His fingertips drummed on the table. His voice grew heavier. “Chloe, you’ve already lost your sight. What good does this do you?” I blinked my sightless eyes and was about to speak. Damien’s phone rang. Two young voices came through the speaker. “Daddy, I miss you. When are you coming home? Mommy has a fever.” “Yeah, Mommy feels so bad today her eyes are all red. Come home and be with us.” Damien softened his voice, coaxing them gently. “Daddy misses you too.” “Take good care of Mommy at home. I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, I could sense Damien’s hesitation. His voice was hoarse. “Chloe, I…” I smiled and deliberately moved aside to let him pass. “Have a good evening, sir.” After a long moment, I finally heard his footsteps leaving. But at the door, he paused again. “Chloe, I remember you weren’t like this before.” Before? I touched the corner of my eye, as if the pain still lingered there. Before, I had cried and made scenes, tried to use the baby to keep him, but it never made him turn back. In the end, the baby was gone, my eyes were ruined, and all I got was him saying I deserved it. Only after confirming he had left did I return to the massage room. A colleague came over and nudged me. “You two know each other? That’s Mr. Hunt himself.” I shook my head. “Not really.” Another colleague laughed as she approached. “What do you mean ‘not really’? He just bought an annual membership with you. Chloe, you won’t have to worry about meeting your targets all year.” “Mr. Hunt is so handsome, and he’s the kind of good man you can’t find even with a lantern.” “If I were his ex-wife, I definitely wouldn’t have fought with him.” I found it ironic but didn’t respond. My colleague became more enthusiastic. “I’m serious. A man who was willing to drop a hundred million for her—what more could she want?” “I heard he’s still single. That’s true devotion.” I was silent for a while before I couldn’t help speaking up. “Devotion?” “Cheating during marriage and having twin illegitimate children—that’s devotion?” “A hundred-million-dollar mansion with his mistress living in it—that’s devotion?” “His wife of ten years not even having ten dollars to buy ice cream at the end—that’s devotion?” My colleague gasped. “These things… how do you know?” I lowered my head with a bitter smile and pulled out an old photo of myself to show them. “Were my eyes beautiful?” My colleagues nodded. “Back then, yes. Very beautiful.” I pointed at the corner of my eye. “Damien Hunt destroyed my eyes. Do you still think he’s a good person?” They gasped in shock. I ignored them and calmly continued working. That evening after work, I took my white cane. I bought many flowers and toys and went to the cemetery. I arranged everything in front of the gravestone. “Baby, are you doing well in heaven?” I touched the cold stone. “I ran into your father today. He mentioned you. Too bad he’ll never get to see you in this lifetime.”

Early the next morning, I received a call from the shop even though I had requested the day off. Damien was throwing a fit. When I arrived, his voice was low and threatening. “If you can’t get Chloe here, I don’t mind putting you all out of work.” I paused at the door, then pushed it open. “Don’t make things difficult for them. I’m here.” He spoke coldly. “Come here. You’re coming with me.” I didn’t move. “I’m not going to say it twice.” A smile curved my lips. “What if I refuse?” “This time, what else do you want to take from me?” Damien’s breathing quickened. He crushed the glass in his hand. I knew he could no longer keep up the act. Damien and I were childhood friends. When I was ten and my parents died in an accident, I moved into the Hunt family home. Back then, all I did was cry. Damien, two years older, reached out his hand to me. That hand held mine for ten years. His friends changed girlfriends constantly, but I was always by his side. On my twentieth birthday, he dragged me to the civil affairs bureau first thing in the morning. I teased him for being like an eager puppy waiting for food. He tucked the marriage certificate against his chest. “I’ve waited ten years. Can’t let someone else steal you away.” “A wife should be kept close early.” At the wedding, I lifted my dress and turned around. Damien was already crying. He held me, sobbing as he made his vow. “My wife, you’re the only one for me. Forever.” After marriage, I loved spicy food, so he went to learn how to cook it. I liked walking barefoot, so he carpeted the floors and walked with me. Every morning when I woke up, I didn’t even have to squeeze my own toothpaste. Those days, I felt like I was soaking in honey. Until he spent a month away from home for work. Worried about him, I brought him soup. I pushed open the door. His collar was half-open, a girl sitting on his lap. A cigarette burned between her fingers as she brazenly kissed his lips. I froze completely. “Damien Hunt, what are you doing?” He snapped to attention and stood up, taking the soup from me. “Chloe, what are you doing here?” My voice trembled as I pointed at the girl. “Who is she?” “Just a buddy.” He came over to take my hand. I jerked away. “What kind of buddy do you need to personally kiss on the lips?” The girl laughed and approached. “This must be Chloe? I’m Sydney Reed, just friends with Damien. Don’t take it the wrong way.” “Chloe, you’re so pretty. If I were him, I couldn’t resist marrying you early either.” She pinched my chin. I frowned and pushed her away. Sydney covered her mouth and laughed. “Chloe, I just thought you were beautiful. Couldn’t help myself.” “I’m into girls. You don’t need to worry about me and Damien.” She pulled up photos of her “girlfriend” on her phone. I looked at Damien with doubt. “Is she telling the truth?” Damien smiled and pulled me into his arms. “Of course it’s true. I’ve known her for years. If there was something between us, would I have married you?” “What just happened was an accident. Don’t overthink it.” I looked between them and softened, choosing to believe him. From then on, I kept seeing Sydney shoulder-to-shoulder with Damien. Sydney would walk around naked in front of him. I couldn’t help frowning and reminding him, but he didn’t care at all. “Just a buddy. Why make such a big deal? Just think of her as a guy.” “Besides, even her girlfriend isn’t complaining. What are you angry about?” Seeing how unconcerned he was, I even started thinking I was overreacting. Sydney often brought me gifts, calling me Chloe affectionately. I convinced myself not to be so petty. So I stupidly treated Sydney as a good friend. I’d cook extra portions for her, think of her when buying things. On her birthday, I even made her a cake myself. Until mine and Damien’s first wedding anniversary. He’d been busy abroad negotiating contracts. I specially bought lingerie and prepared gifts for him. I found his friend, eyes bright, wanting to surprise him. But when I looked up, I saw his friend looking at me awkwardly. “Chloe, maybe you shouldn’t go.” “What do you mean?” My smile froze on my face. He took a deep breath and looked away. “Chloe, he’s been in LA the whole time. With Sydney.” I got the address and rushed over. A magnificent palace stood before me. The one he had once built to make me happy. I walked closer, trembling, my legs shaking uncontrollably. Through the crack in the door, Sydney’s belly was slightly swollen. He gently rubbed her stomach. “Our son’s really active. Give him another kick.” “He’s so restless. You must be exhausted.” “When he grows up, I’ll transfer the company to him.” I gripped the door, my nails drawing blood. I remembered this past year when I said I wanted a child. He always said “no rush, no rush.” Turns out he already had one. I shoved the door open.

“Damien Hunt, is this what you call ‘busy’?” My throat felt like it was filled with blood. “What are you doing here?” Damien instinctively stepped in front of Sydney, as if I were some kind of monster. I laughed coldly. “I should be asking you that.” He frowned, his tone tinged with impatience. “Sydney got her heart broken. She said she wanted to experience being a mother. I was just trying to help her.” “Help her?” My voice nearly cracked. “Damien Hunt, where exactly do you put me?” Sydney walked over and glared at Damien. “Damien, how can you talk to Chloe like that?” She grabbed my hand. “Chloe, I just wanted a child. We’re all close, so I borrowed Damien’s seed.” “You don’t mind, right?” “Damien and I have always just been bros. Don’t worry, we didn’t cross any lines.” I laughed coldly and shook her off, trembling with rage. Right. No lines crossed. They just slept together. “Damien Hunt, let’s get divorced.” I turned around and closed my eyes. Without waiting for his answer, I went home and started packing. Halfway through, Damien came back. He grabbed my hands. “After all these years, you’re sure you want to throw it all away?” “You’ve never worked. How will you survive out there?” “That’s none of your business.” I shook him off. He suddenly pulled me into his arms, wiping my tears. “Honey, I was wrong. It’s my fault.” “For the sake of all these years, don’t divorce me, okay?” “Then make her get an abortion and send her away!” “Okay.” He paused, then agreed. I gripped his collar tightly. “I want you to have a child with me. Now. Right now.” He looked at me for a long time before finally agreeing. “Okay.” I kept him home, day and night. Endless supplements, countless remedies. Finally, three months later, I got pregnant. Damien finally breathed a sigh of relief, like he’d completed a task. But when he looked at this child, there was none of the adoration and joy I’d imagined. He wasn’t exactly bad to me. He still accompanied me to checkups, bought me supplements on time. Even when I cried at night, he’d hand me tissues and warm water. But I could tell he was just going through the motions mechanically. His body was here, but his mind was always elsewhere. Until I was five months pregnant, he started going out frequently again. Not answering calls. One afternoon, he snuck out while I was sleeping. I followed him to the old mansion. Sydney’s belly was huge, wearing his shirt, leaning on the sofa eating ice cream. But these past days, Damien never let me touch his shirts. Now, he gently took away her ice cream. Massaging her legs. “Only two bites. I haven’t been able to be with you these past days. You’ve had it tough.” I pushed the door open hard, my lips and teeth trembling uncontrollably. “You said you’d make her get an abortion. Damien Hunt, you lied to me?” Seeing me, Damien’s veins bulged. He finally exploded. “Chloe Miller, will you ever stop?” “You said you wanted me around, I’m around. You said you wanted a child, I gave you one.” “Sydney’s carrying twins and she’s far along. Do you know how much it hurts me to watch her on the surveillance cameras?” “They’re both my children. Do you really have to be so intolerant?” “But you promised me!” I clenched my fists tightly. Sydney smirked and deliberately rubbed her belly. “Chloe, these two kids have outgrown their clothes. Damien’s shirts fit just right.” “The doctor even praised me for being amazing, pregnant with two at once. Though I think I could still do cartwheels.” “It’s just Damien being overprotective. Won’t let me ride motorcycles or watch horror movies.” “But I’m not some delicate little princess. I’ve got plenty of energy.” I finally couldn’t hold back. I grabbed a vase and hurled it at her. “You’re disgusting!” “Sydney, watch out!” Damien suddenly blocked it. He glared at me viciously. “How can you be so malicious!” “Don’t you know she’s carrying twins!” “Chloe Miller, I’ve taken care of you for so many years. If you can’t handle this, then get out.” Nausea roiled in my stomach. I wiped my mouth. “Fine. I’ll get out!” I felt completely drained. I turned and left. I knocked on my best friend’s door. Crying, I told her what happened. But she just kept frowning. “Chloe, I hate to say this, but you’re being really unreasonable.” “Sydney’s a good person. She just asked Damien to father a child. Did you really need to react like this?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “What are you saying?” “You’re so cruel. Actually trying to make Sydney get an abortion. That’s a life too.” “Sydney hasn’t fought with you over anything since you got pregnant. You’re making way too big a deal out of this.” She continued selecting items. “What do you think I should give Sydney as a gift when she has the babies?” Something like congealed blood stuck in my throat. I couldn’t spit it out, couldn’t swallow it down. Even my best friend of many years was on Sydney’s side.

I left my friend’s place. Standing on the street, I realized I had nowhere to go. Out of spite, I went to the store to buy ice cream, only to discover I didn’t even have ten dollars in my account. I sat in the park near our home. From nightfall until dawn. The baby was moving. I silently returned home. Damien grabbed me, looking me over carefully. “Where did you run off to?” “I looked for you all night.” “Your tantrum is hurting the baby too.” I didn’t look at him, just held out my hand. “Phone.” He hesitated a moment before giving it to me. I entered the password. My birthday. Wrong. Our anniversary. Still wrong. He pressed his lips together. “0225.” Sydney’s birthday. My fingertips paused. I unlocked it and transferred five thousand dollars to myself. Damien’s pupils dilated. He handed me a card. “No limit. Buy whatever you want.” “Chloe, don’t run away from home again.” I held the card, its sharp edges cutting painfully into my palm. He reached out to hug me, but I dodged. I turned and went back to the bedroom. I just stayed there quietly, barely asking about him and Sydney anymore. Watching the baby grow bigger, I only looked forward to the birth. One afternoon, Sydney came to find me. She was still wearing Damien’s shirt, a smug smile on her face. “Chloe, you don’t know yet, do you? Damien said when the babies are born, he’ll come take care of me properly.” “I just mentioned being tired and he felt so bad. I heard you vomited until you brought up bile and he didn’t say anything?” “How can Damien be like this? If it were me, I couldn’t bear to let a girl suffer.” I was about to turn around when I heard her scream as she tumbled down the stairs. “Chloe, I really just came to keep you company.” “Even if you don’t trust our friendship, you shouldn’t hurt the babies.” “Sydney!” The next second, Damien’s burning slap landed on my face as he bent down to pick up Sydney. “Chloe Miller, you truly disappoint me.” I watched his desperate retreating figure and wiped the blood from my split lip. I smiled bitterly. The numbness on my face took a while to fade. That evening, he came in with a dark expression, grabbing my hand. “You hurt Sydney so badly she went into early labor. She’s lost her sight. Do you know that!” “Since you’re so cruel, you’ll compensate her with yours!” “I didn’t! She fell on her own!” I shook my head frantically. “Still lying! She’s pure-hearted, she doesn’t have all these twisted schemes.” He dragged me toward the door. I lost my temper and fell to my knees, begging him. “Damien, please don’t do this. I’m pregnant. I can’t go.” “Please just wait until the baby is born, okay?” “Just wait a few more months.” I cried until my whole body shook. He laughed coldly. “Wait? What about Sydney? Can she wait?” “The baby? You’re this malicious—do you even deserve to have my child?” Regardless of my condition, he sent me to the operating room. I watched them approach with surgical instruments. I sobbed helplessly. The corner of my eye was brutally torn away, leaving trails of bloody tears. He used to smile and kiss my eyes gently. Said my eyes were bright and beautiful. After it was over, he had me sent to a nursing home. Afraid I’d affect Sydney’s postpartum recovery. I was locked inside. Cold and damp. He never came to see me once. On the day I gave birth, I used every ounce of strength I had. It took a full day. The baby came out, but had long since stopped breathing. I held her tiny body and stumbled out of the nursing home. But that day, everything under Hunt Corporation was free. Because it was Sydney’s twins’ 100-day celebration. He organized a grand event to accumulate blessings for the children. Thanks to her, I got a free swaddle from a baby store. So I could wrap my tiny, lifeless daughter. “Chloe, I just want you and the child to come home with me and live well.” Damien’s hoarse voice pulled me back from my thoughts. I smiled slightly. “The child?” Damien continued speaking. “The nursing home told me it was a girl. She’s three now, right? I already picked out a name for her. Aria. How about that? She should come home eventually.” “Didn’t they tell you that baby was stillborn?” I interrupted him. Damien’s voice suddenly dropped, tinged with anger. “Chloe Miller, even if you hate me, you can hit me, yell at me, whatever. Don’t use the child to take out your anger.” “I’ve prepared a room for her all these years. Just waiting for you both to come home.” I didn’t respond. It all seemed pointless. I picked up my white cane and went home. He followed closely. “Chloe Miller, didn’t you hear what I said? Don’t use the child to—” I pushed open the door. He rushed over and grabbed the yellowed death certificate on the table.

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Five years after breaking up with Matthew, we ran into each other at a friend’s wedding. Our eyes met for a second before we both looked away at the same time, pretending we were strangers. After the ceremony ended, my half-drunk friend pointed at Matthew and whispered to me, “After you two broke up, every girlfriend he’s found has looked a bit like you. We all know they were substitutes for you.” “But this Natasha by his side now—not only has she stayed with him longer than anyone else, she doesn’t look like you at all. He must really be serious about her this time.” I knew my friend was trying to ask if I had any regrets, but I just smiled awkwardly. The truth was, whether Matthew was serious or not had nothing to do with me anymore. This time, I came back to get married. As we walked out of the banquet hall, my friends started making a fuss about going somewhere else to drink the night away. Before I could refuse, someone pushed Matthew over to my side. “Matthew, Prince came all this way back here. With your history together, you have to show her a good time tonight, right?” As they spoke, my friend’s eyebrows bounced up and down suggestively. Matthew didn’t say anything. He just naturally took my suitcase from my hand. I glanced at my watch. Since I still had time before my scheduled meeting, I nodded and agreed to get in the car. I sat in the passenger seat while Matthew and Natasha sat in the back. The car had barely started moving when a sweet, cloying voice drifted up from the back seat. “Matthew, you haven’t even introduced me to her yet.” “At first I thought you two didn’t know each other. I almost made a fool of myself.” Though she was talking to Matthew, I could see from the rearview mirror that her eyes were fixed on me, full of naked provocation and disgust. Matthew’s gaze lingered on me for a moment. Before he could speak, I took the initiative to explain: “Hello, my name is Prince. Matthew and I are classmates.” “Prince?” Natasha suddenly covered her mouth and laughed. “What do you mean classmates? Everyone knows you’re Matthew’s ex-girlfriend.” “Don’t worry though, I’m not that petty. I won’t get jealous over something like this.” After saying this, she wrapped her arm around Matthew’s and kissed his cheek forcefully, as if marking her territory. Throughout the drive, Natasha kept chattering nonstop. Matthew, who had always been cold and quiet, patiently responded to every single thing she said. “We’re not going to have to drink more later, are we? I have the worst tolerance. If I get drunk, will you take me home, Matthew?” “I won’t let you get drunk. I’ll take you home.” “The wedding today almost made me cry. I’m so jealous the bride got to marry for love. When we have our wedding, I want roses filling the sky and colorful balloons everywhere.” “Okay. You can decide everything about the wedding.” I rolled the car window all the way down, letting the wind scatter the intimate atmosphere inside the car. When we finally arrived at our destination, I got out of the car and saw Matthew smoothly lift Natasha out in his arms. When our eyes met, his hands stiffened for a moment. Natasha nestled in his embrace and smiled shyly. “I’m not used to wearing heels. Matthew worries I’ll twist my ankle, so he always carries me when I get out of the car.” I nodded and smiled politely. “Matthew treats you really well.” When we got to the private room, a friend immediately handed me a drink. “You’re late. As punishment, you have to drink three glasses.” I had just taken the glass when Matthew already downed the other two in one gulp. “Natasha can’t hold her liquor. I’ll drink hers for her.” Several people started making a fuss, but most of the attention stayed fixed on me. I calmly drank what was in my glass. As I was about to grab another one, Natasha rushed over and blocked me. “Don’t bully Prince like this. She’s single right now. If she gets drunk, which one of you is going to take her home? Is she supposed to stay at your place?” I glanced at her and took back the glass she’d blocked. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m not single.” My response made Natasha’s expression turn ugly instantly. The room suddenly fell silent. All the eyes that had been on me shifted to Matthew. Through the dim lighting, I could clearly see his hand tighten around the empty glass, as if just a bit more pressure would shatter it. After a few seconds, he finally raised an eyebrow and spoke. “Then why didn’t your boyfriend come today?” “He’ll be here at midnight.”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly turned strange. My friend immediately tried to lighten the mood by raising the cards in their hand. “Today’s gathering is supposed to be drink till we drop! Come on, let’s play games!” Natasha tugged at Matthew’s sleeve, pouting as she whined, “But I can’t handle alcohol at all. Isn’t making everyone drink till they drop just bullying me?” Matthew patiently stroked her hair and gently reassured her, “Don’t worry. I’ll drink yours for you.” “I can’t bear to let you drink that much.” Her eyes darted around, and then she focused her attention on me. “Prince, I saw you drink so much earlier without even blushing. Your tolerance must be really good.” “How about you drink for me?” Someone frowned and reminded Matthew, “Aren’t you going to say something? This is too much.” “She’s always been the one managing me.” Matthew said flatly, then pushed a glass toward me. “Your tolerance really is good. How about you and I each take half for Natasha?” I stood there, suddenly feeling my fingers tremble. When Matthew and I first got together, he wasn’t Matthew the gentleman yet. We were squeezed into a tiny rental apartment, praying the rain would stay light so the roof wouldn’t leak. That kind of life lasted two years before we finally used all our savings to start a business. At business dinners, people would often target me deliberately. “Just one look at Miss Prince and I can tell you hold your liquor well. Why don’t you down this glass first?” Every time, before I could even pick up the glass, Matthew would grab it first. “Prince, since we’re the perfect couple, how about we split it in half?” But every time, he would secretly switch out my drink and end up completely wasted himself, even getting a perforated ulcer that bled. “Prince, I won’t let you get drunk, and I’ll definitely give you a good life. You’ll never have to touch alcohol again.” I glanced coolly at the current Matthew and took two steps back. “Matthew, Natasha is your girlfriend, not mine.” “Don’t tell me after all these years, you still can’t protect your own girlfriend?” The situation became awkward after my retort. Natasha sniffled beside him, tears threatening to fall as she looked aggrieved. “Prince, I know you’re still bitter that Matthew dumped you back then, but you don’t need to target us like this.” Everyone gasped. My friend glared at Natasha and tried to smooth things over. “What dumped or whatever? Isn’t there a popular saying online now—that everyone had their own difficulties back then?” I laughed lightly. “There weren’t really any difficulties. I just had one or two close friends when I was young, that’s all. Why keep bringing up the past? If you’re petty enough to care about it, Miss Natasha, maybe you should go home with Matthew and settle accounts slowly?” Natasha might not know this, but I was famous for holding grudges. If you don’t provoke me, I can pretend you don’t exist. But if you make me unhappy, I’ll make sure you’re unhappy too. Even if it’s just a war of words. Natasha bit her lip. Tears fell at will, but when she noticed Matthew standing beside her with cold eyes, saying nothing, she stubbornly wiped them away. “Then I won’t drink. Let’s just play Truth or Dare, and I’ll be the referee.” The farce finally ended, and no one wanted to stir up more conflict. Natasha grabbed the wine bottle nearby. “Whoever I spin to has to answer a truth question!” The bottle spun several times before stopping in front of me. A flash of smugness and calculation crossed Natasha’s eyes. “Prince, did you really come back just to attend a wedding, or is it for something else?” I could feel Matthew’s gaze fixed on me. I picked up the glass on the table and took a casual sip. “To get married.”

Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between Matthew and me. Natasha shook Matthew’s arm. “Oh my, if Prince is getting married, does that mean she can’t be our bridesmaid?” “It’s fine.” Matthew’s answer was perfunctory, and his eyes remained fixed on me. I put down my glass and replied to a message on my phone before saying leisurely, “Even if I weren’t getting married, I’d have no interest in being a bridesmaid.” Natasha had embarrassed herself again. She pouted and started spinning the bottle on the table again. “Since we said we’d drink till we drop, whoever it lands on this time has to finish this whole bottle!” Natasha pointed at the bottle. “How should we count this? Why don’t you two split it in half?” my friend teased, then whispered in my ear, “Actually, I think you and Matthew still have a chance. You came back for him, didn’t you?” I’d been up for a whole day without rest, and now my head was starting to throb. I rubbed my temples. “No, I really came back to get married.” My friend clicked their tongue, clearly not believing me. I didn’t want to explain further. Just as I was about to pick up the glass and split the drinks with Matthew, Natasha stopped my hand. “Prince, it’s not that I’m targeting you, but I really don’t like my boyfriend sharing a drink with another woman. Let’s do another round.” She emphasized the words “my boyfriend” especially hard, as if deliberately trying to remind or warn me of something. “What’s the big deal? We’re pouring it out into separate glasses anyway. It’s not like we’re drinking from the same one.” Faced with Natasha’s repeated antics, my friend was finally getting impatient. “If you’re that worried about your boyfriend, why don’t you just tie Matthew up and keep him locked at home?” Natasha immediately became all innocent, her lips slightly pouting as she looked at Matthew pitifully. “I just wanted everyone to have fun.” Matthew’s brow furrowed slightly, but he still went along with what Natasha said. “We’ll do what you want.” The beer bottle spun again and quickly stopped firmly in front of me. Fair and square—I didn’t hesitate to pick up the glass in front of me and drain the entire pitcher. The game continued. I don’t know if Natasha’s hand had been blessed somehow, but every single round, the beer bottle stopped steadily in front of me. The lack of rest combined with excessive drinking was already making me dizzy. Matthew reached out and grabbed my hand as I went for another glass. The cold touch instantly brought me back to my senses. “Let’s stop here for today.” Natasha glared at me resentfully and muttered with displeasure, “But we haven’t finished this round yet.” “Then how about this—for this round, no drinking. Prince, answer another truth question instead.” I pulled my hand back and checked the time. Ten more minutes until midnight. “Fine.” A flash of calculation quickly crossed Natasha’s eyes. She pulled out her phone, opened a photo, and held it in front of me. “Prince, in this scandal of yours, exactly how many men were involved?”

Looking at the familiar photos in front of me, my whole body began to convulse uncontrollably. That dark period of history seemed to return before my eyes. It was when Matthew and my company was about to go public. At a malicious banquet, while Matthew stepped out to take a call, someone drugged my drink. When I realized something was wrong with my body, I frantically knocked my glass over. The moment the glass shards pierced my palm, my consciousness finally returned briefly. I stumbled out of the banquet hall, trying to find Matthew, but the burning restlessness inside made me collapse in a corner after just a few steps. With no other choice, I used glass shards to desperately cut my wrist to maintain brief moments of consciousness while crawling on my knees to the bathroom. Only when the door was locked did my anxious heart finally settle. When I woke up in the bathroom again, it was already the next day. When I rushed home, I learned that Matthew had searched for me all night. But before I could tell him what happened that night, my photos were posted online. Instantly, it caused a huge uproar. Matthew held me tightly. “Don’t be afraid. No matter what you become, I’ll never abandon you.” I explained that nothing happened that night, but wave after wave of photos online nailed me firmly to the pillar of shame. Many people even came forward claiming I’d always been promiscuous, that the only reason our company could close so many deals was because of what I did in bed. There were also men claiming to be in the photos, pointing at my spine and saying I had seduced them. The company caught in the scandal saw its stock plummet. Shareholders withdrew their investments one after another. Going public became an impossible dream. During that time, I desperately tried to prove my innocence, but no one believed me. The only person who said he would always believe me—Matthew—also began to lose patience between being cursed by thousands and facing bankruptcy. Many people said Matthew and I broke up because of this scandal, but only he and I knew the truth. We simply let each other go. I didn’t want to drag him down anymore, and he didn’t want me to continue suffering all that humiliation in America. Five years had passed, and everything had finally begun to fade. But now Natasha had brought it all back into the open. Matthew’s expression darkened immediately. Just as he was about to reach for Natasha’s phone, I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. “I don’t know how you got these slanderous and defamatory photos, but maliciously spreading false information carries a sentence of up to three years.” I used to be so upset about this that I became depressed and suicidal, but now, I wouldn’t be hurt anymore. I wouldn’t desperately try to prove myself innocent over something that never happened. Natasha hadn’t expected me to actually hit her. She grabbed Matthew’s hand in grievance. “Matthew, it was just a game. Prince, she—” Before she could finish, I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door. “I have things to do. Continue your so-called game.” Just as I reached the door, Matthew suddenly blocked my way. “Natasha was just playing around. Don’t take it too seriously.” “You slapped her too, so we’re even.” I raised an eyebrow and smiled, finding the man in front of me incredibly unfamiliar. “I always take things seriously.” As I brushed past him, Matthew grabbed my hand. “Where are you staying now? I’ll take you.” I pulled my hand away in displeasure. Just as I was about to speak, I fell into a familiar, warm embrace. A deep voice came from behind me. “My fiancée will obviously be staying with me.”

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I ran into my husband Ryan’s two childhood friends at a coffee shop—friends he hadn’t seen in years. Just as I was about to say hello, I overheard them talking about Ryan: “Ryan’s finally getting his life back on track. He’s getting married again.” “His ex-wife died shortly after they got married. Such a tragedy.” I froze in shock. I’m alive and well—how could I be dead? And our son is almost three years old. Who is he remarrying? After eavesdropping a bit longer, I learned that Ryan’s bride-to-be was named Vivian Shaw. I quietly noted the wedding venue and date, then slipped away. That weekend, I arrived at the hotel following the address. The venue was bustling with guests everywhere. As I entered, I casually handed my gift to a receptionist. When she asked for my name, I said coldly: “The ex-wife, back from the dead.” The receptionist shot me a sidelong glance. “Why would you say something so unlucky on such a happy occasion?” I ignored her and turned to see an enormous wedding photo displayed at the entrance. The man was my husband. The woman was a complete stranger. This wedding photo clearly cost a fortune. Years ago, I’d suggested we get photos taken there too. He’d said, “Wedding photos are just for show. Spending that much money is completely pointless.” “As long as we love each other and build a good life together, that’s what really matters.” In the end, he chose a photography studio near our house—the cheapest package they had. I spotted several familiar faces—all relatives from Ryan’s side. I never imagined Ryan would be brazen enough to flaunt his affair right in front of his own family. Glancing casually toward the main table, I felt my blood run cold. Sitting at the groom’s family table were Ryan’s parents—my in-laws. Relatives kept coming over to offer congratulations. The two of them were beaming, their smiles never fading. Fragments of conversation drifted over: “Vivian is such a good girl. You can tell she brings good fortune!” My mother-in-law, Zoe’s smile stretched even wider. “Absolutely! Ever since Ryan met her, things have gotten better year after year. Not like that last one—bad luck and short-lived, a total jinx. Ah, but let’s not talk about her on such a happy day…” Her words stabbed into my chest. After all these years of treating them kindly, I never realized they resented me so much behind my back. My father-in-law chimed in, “I was against Ryan marrying her from the start!” Who? Me? “Well, she was the one who pursued Ryan relentlessly, insisting on marrying him. Otherwise, how would she have ever gotten through our door?” “I knew it. Women who cling desperately like that are never quality. You get what you pay for!” Listening to them discuss me like I was some commodity, I wanted to march right over and confront them. But I held myself back. I’d settle this score soon enough. I turned and left the banquet hall. The bride was surrounded by several bridesmaids, preparing to make her entrance. Vivian noticed me coming out of the hall and greeted me with a smile. “You must be one of Ryan’s coworkers!” My emotions roiled inside, but I suppressed the urge to reveal everything and simply hummed in response. One of the bridesmaids grabbed Vivian’s hand, eyeing the gold bracelet on her wrist enviously. “Vivian, you’re so lucky! Ryan is so generous with you. This bracelet must be worth at least $100,000, right?” “He insisted on buying it. He said marriage is a lifelong commitment, so if you’re going to buy something, buy the best.” Vivian touched the bracelet, the corners of her mouth curling up involuntarily. My heart felt like it had been punctured. When Ryan and I got married, I had nothing. I’d suggested buying wedding rings—at least something to mark the occasion. He’d said, “What’s the point of buying that stuff? You can’t eat it or wear it. You’re not that materialistic anyway.” Seeing my obvious disappointment, he’d coaxed me, “When I get a raise later, I’ll make it up to you.” Later, his career flourished and his salary increased year after year. He did keep his promise. Every year when he received his bonus, he’d buy me a gold bar, saying it would be security for me and our son in the future. Wait—where did he get the money to buy Vivian a bracelet? He gives me his entire monthly salary now, and I know exactly what his year-end bonuses are. I was puzzling over this when another bridesmaid said enviously, “I heard your husband’s company is doing really well. He gets hundreds of thousands in profit shares every year. Forget one gold bracelet—Ryan could buy you ten of them.” Profit shares? We’ve been married almost six years, and I had no idea he had company shares. I’ve seen Ryan’s monthly pay stubs. After taxes, $18,000. Every month he gives me $15,000 and keeps $3,000 for entertainment expenses. I never suspected a thing. But apparently, he gets hundreds of thousands in profit shares every year.

Vivian suddenly turned to look at me. “You’re Ryan’s coworker, so you should know how much he makes a year. Tell me quietly so I have an idea—I don’t want him hiding money from me later.” My heart felt like someone was stabbing it repeatedly with a dull knife. How much does he make? Don’t you know better than I do? The lion’s share went to you—a $100,000 gold bracelet. I wouldn’t even dare dream of something like that in this lifetime. I only just found out about those hundreds of thousands in annual profit shares. And you’re turning around to ask me how much he makes a year? The muscles around my lips trembled. I almost lost control of my expression. Vivian probably sensed something was off and tried to ease the awkwardness. “Maybe you don’t know either. That’s okay.” “I’ve met most of Ryan’s coworkers, but this is the first time I’ve seen you. You must be new, right?” I suppressed the churning emotions inside me. “Yeah, I just started recently. I really don’t know Ryan’s exact income.” One of the younger bridesmaids clicked her tongue. “Your husband is so great. Not only is he handsome and successful, but he doesn’t even smoke.” Vivian laughed. “It’s not that he doesn’t smoke—he quit on his own because he wants us to have a honeymoon baby.” I nearly dropped my phone. During the worst two months of morning sickness, I’d throw up at the slightest whiff of cigarette smoke. I’d asked him to quit smoking. He said he couldn’t—he had to entertain clients for work. Three months ago, he suddenly changed. He threw all his cigarettes in the trash. He said I’d always complained about secondhand smoke, so for the health of me and our son, he was quitting for good. I’d been so touched at the time. Turns out he quit for another woman, not for me and our son. Vivian smiled at me a bit sheepishly. “Sorry you had to hear that. These girls love to tease.” My emotions were crashing like storm waves inside me. I blurted out, “You trust Ryan that much? What if he has another family on the side?” Vivian stared at me in shock. “What do you mean by that?” The bridesmaids weren’t having it. “Just because your own husband cheats doesn’t mean you should wish the same on others, right?” I laughed bitterly. “Actually, you guessed right.” Vivian’s gaze held a hint of superiority. “My Ryan isn’t like your husband. He would never betray me.” “Is that so? If this loyal, perfect man of yours is so great, where is he now?” “He went to pick up some college friends who traveled from out of town for the wedding. He’ll be back any minute.” Right on cue, her phone rang. “Honey! Where are you?” The bridesmaids tactfully fell silent, and his voice came through clearly: “Almost there, babe. I’m so excited thinking about marrying you soon.” Vivian’s face flushed red. She chided him playfully, “Just drive carefully. Stay safe.” The bridesmaids nearby heard everything and started teasing: “Oh my god, did you hear that? You’ve known each other for five years, you’re about to share a bed, and you’re still this lovey-dovey.” “Being affectionate is normal, isn’t it? After all, we can only be together half the year anyway.” It felt like someone had clubbed me over the back of the head. My ears rang. They’ve known each other for five years. I don’t know if I was too oblivious or if he hid it too well. No—it wasn’t that he hid it well. I trusted him too much. I trusted him when he said the company was promoting him and he needed to rotate positions, working away from home every other month. I thought he was ambitious then. I didn’t want to hold him back. I shouldered everything alone—childcare, cooking, working—without a single complaint. When our son ran a fever in the middle of the night, I held him alone in the emergency room until dawn. I didn’t dare call Ryan, afraid of disturbing his rest. Turns out, during all that time “stationed away,” he was with another woman.

The bridesmaids were dying of envy and wouldn’t let it go. “Your husband is too perfect! Handsome, successful, doesn’t smoke, affectionate, says sweet things—is there any justice in this world?” “Exactly! Does he have any flaws? Tell us so we can feel better!” Vivian laughed as they shook her. She thought for a moment. “Flaws… I guess he makes me drink soup every day. Says it’s good for health.” “And he gets up early to make it himself. Never gets tired of it.” Everyone groaned. Another devastating blow. Every morning. Ryan never made me breakfast once. Not once in six years. Later, when I was pregnant and my belly was so big I could barely bend over, he said he’d wake up early to cook. He burned several pots of porridge trying. No matter how much I taught him, he never got the hang of it. I’d always thought he was just naturally bad at cooking. Turns out it wasn’t about skill. It was about the person. I stood there, my heart growing colder by the second. The bridesmaids insisted Vivian was just showing off and demanded she share a real flaw—no more disguised bragging allowed. Vivian bit her lip, and suddenly her expression turned serious. “There actually is something. Please don’t ever mention it in front of him.” “Ryan was married before.” “His ex-wife and son… they died in a car accident a couple years ago. It hit him really hard. Even now, he can’t handle talking about it.” In an instant, blood rushed to my head. My knuckles cracked as I clenched my fists. In his script, he not only killed me off—he erased our son too. Our son, smart and adorable, who just yesterday climbed on him saying “I love you, Daddy.” To make room for his new marriage, he obliterated his own flesh and blood. He was cold and selfish beyond measure. If I didn’t expose his true face, I’d be failing both myself and our son. I was about to step forward when my phone rang. It was Zoe. Everyone looked at me. I walked some distance away before answering. “Claire, I need you to transfer $100,000 to me right now. It’s urgent.” “What’s so urgent that you need $100,000?” “Didn’t I tell you? Your father and I are helping organize a wedding. The bride wants me to be her godmother, so I need to give her a big gift. Hurry up and transfer it. People are waiting.” They were calculating against me to the bitter end. The whole family was hiding this from me, finding Ryan a new wife—and now they wanted to use my money to curry favor with her? I bit back my anger and shot back, “Mom, is she going to take care of you in your old age?” Zoe’s voice turned cold. “What are you talking about! I’m hosting a wedding here. Why are you bringing up old age?” “You want to be her godmother, that’s your business. Why are you asking me for money?” There was silence on the other end. A few seconds later, Zoe exploded, her words dripping with venom: “Listen to yourself! You usually act so understanding, but the moment money comes up, your true colors show! Let me tell you—this is my son’s money, and I can spend it however I want!” There’s a limit to bullying. I didn’t back down: “Don’t forget, I work too. My salary isn’t lower than your son’s. When did my money become his?” Zoe snorted coldly. “Fine. You’re so capable.” Then she hung up with a sharp click. I straightened my clothes and turned back, just in time to hear Vivian say, “Zoe said she’s giving me five gold bars as a wedding gift.” My heart sank. Five gold bars—those were exactly what Ryan had given me over the years. The number matched perfectly. The bridesmaids were still laughing and chatting. My heart turned to ice. Laugh now. The harder you laugh now, the harder you’ll cry later. Footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Ryan appeared, surrounded by several people. Music started playing in the banquet hall. Under everyone’s gaze, Vivian slowly walked toward the stage. Ryan stood there, back straight, a smile on his lips as he waited for his second bride. When Vivian was halfway there, I stepped onto the center of the stage first, raising the microphone with an icy voice. “Ryan, how could you not tell me about something as important as your wedding?” The banquet hall instantly fell silent. The lively atmosphere seemed to freeze as if someone had hit pause. After a brief, dead silence, voices erupted like a tidal wave. “What’s going on?” “Who’s that woman on stage?” “Didn’t they say Ryan’s ex-wife was dead…”

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In the third month of being exploited by my boss, I custom-ordered a biosynthetic android that looked exactly like him. During the day, I’d get yelled at by my boss at the company. At night, I’d tie the android to my bed and have my way with him. Until one day at the company physical, I accidentally discovered I was pregnant. When I rushed home in a panic, I saw rows of bodyguards bowing to the android I’d bought: “Mr. Spencer, the chairman sent us to bring you home.” I stared in confusion: “What?” I was a humble wage slave. Because I was exploited daily by my idiot boss Spencer Moore, I’d snapped. I specifically went on Amazon and spent $999 to custom-order an android modeled after him. I swore that once it arrived, I’d play with him like a dog! Slap his face, make him call me master, and force him to stay on his knees at all times! Make him become my complete and total stress relief tool! By coincidence, the delivery was efficient. Just as I was fantasizing, a message suddenly came through. Oh snap, the android had arrived. The corners of my mouth curved up. My mood lifted considerably. I glanced at the time—it was time to clock out. I’d just picked up my bag to bolt when I turned around and crashed straight into someone’s pecs. Holy shit, they’re that big? That well-built? I instinctively reached out and squeezed, tears unconsciously flowing from the corners of my mouth. Just as I was about to go for seconds, a familiar male voice came from above my head: “Want to go a few more rounds?” A chill instantly spread down my spine. I quickly backed up several steps. Only then did I clearly see the devastatingly beautiful face before me. It was Spencer! The long-haired man tugged at his tie, squinting as he looked me over: “Where are you planning to go?” Duh, I’m clocking out! What, should I go to your house? I silently complained internally, but on the surface I smiled awkwardly: “Boss, it’s quitting time. I was planning to head home.” Spencer lifted his eyelids: “There’s a company gathering today. Did you forget?” Hearing that dangerous tone, my head immediately shook like a rattle drum. “Didn’t forget, didn’t forget. It’s right here in my mind.” “Just now was just a joke. I’ll head out right away.” Fuck! Can’t clock out on time again! I’ll get rid of this bloodsucking capitalist sooner or later! Although I only drank one glass of alcohol in the end, I’m also a one-glass lightweight. After the team building ended, I could barely stand. Getting home became a problem. Fortunately, Spencer still had some conscience and offered to drive me home. In the passenger seat, I tried to fasten my seatbelt but couldn’t get it to work. Just as I was getting frustrated, Spencer suddenly leaned over to help me fasten it. A cool cedar scent washed over me. Turning my head, his superior profile was right there. A small strand of long hair fell onto my collar. Made me unconsciously swallow and look out the window. Okay, fine. Although Spencer was exploitative and only knew how to squeeze me dry every day… He actually looked pretty good… “Do you want to enter the code yourself or tell me?” At my front door, the man supported me with one arm while turning his head to ask. Because of the close distance, his warm breath sprayed across my face. It tickled. I couldn’t help but pull back a bit. And told him the code directly. Just as I was about to walk in, my foot caught on the large delivery box at the doorway. I stumbled directly into Spencer’s arms, crashing into his pecs again. Really looks slim in clothes, can’t tell he’s built so well. I really want to rip his shirt open and slap this spot hard a few times. “What’s this?” Maybe for the sake of a drunk person, Spencer didn’t immediately push me out of his arms. Instead, he slightly supported my waist to keep me from losing balance and falling again. Only after I’d had my fill of burying my face in his pecs did I squint and carefully examine the large box at my doorway. Could it be the custom Spencer android? At this thought, my heart couldn’t help but itch. Maybe because of the alcohol, I gradually became bolder. My attitude toward the real deal became increasingly unguarded: “A good thing.” “A secret.” “You want to know?” “I’m not telling you.” “Unless…” I moved close to the long-haired man’s ear, deliberately teasing: “Unless you call me master.” As soon as the words left my mouth, my eyelids started fighting each other. My head tilted, and I couldn’t help falling asleep in Spencer’s arms. My lips brushed against something, felt soft and a bit warm…

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in my own bed. I shook my head—still had that throbbing hangover pain. In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of another person’s figure. Scared me so badly my whole body jumped. Spencer’s face immediately came into view. I reflexively stood up, thinking I was at the company being a corporate slave, wanting to smile and greet him. But then I noticed the man seemed a bit different from usual. His expression was more vacant. And the clothes he was wearing were different from last night’s. A bit smaller, didn’t fit quite right. Could that perfectionist Spencer, who was picky about everything, tolerate that? My gaze shifted to the opened large box not far from the bed. Suddenly understood. Turns out the one standing in front of me wasn’t the real Spencer, but the android I bought! I probably opened it when I came back last night, then forgot about it after blacking out. “Scared the hell out of me!” I immediately walked over. Looking at the android’s full chest, I gave it a vicious slap. The sound was exceptionally loud. Holy shit! This feels way too realistic, doesn’t it? I couldn’t help but marvel. Not just the skin—even the facial details were identical to the real Spencer. After I slapped his chest, an expression of disbelief appeared on his face: “Wendy, what are you doing?” Even the voice was exactly the same! My $999 was really worth it! Like breaking a seal, I slapped the Spencer android’s pecs a few more times, letting out a villainous laugh: “What am I doing?” “Of course I’m thoroughly ravaging you!” “Now hurry up and thank your master!” With that, I ripped his shirt open. Online talk is one thing, but in reality, who doesn’t want to urgently bury their face in a male mommy’s embrace and cry? I sucked while constantly nuzzling around. Although I hated how Spencer made me work overtime every day, I craved his face and body! Damn, this feels great. The android seemed to have advanced programming installed, actually starting to push me away like a real person. This made me even more excited. After taking a hard bite of his chest, I started moving to other locations. Directly bit his thin lips. These were realistic too, and soft. Because it felt good, I sucked a bit longer. The android that had been struggling and not letting me touch suddenly froze like someone had hit his pressure point. After a long moment, he also wrapped his arms around my waist and started responding. Although I was already 22 years old, I was still a virgin. Even though my partner wasn’t technically a real person, it really wasn’t bad. Soon, my body started feeling strange. An unbearable sensation began. I separated my lips from their tangle with the Spencer android’s. Then quickly pressed him beneath me. One hand gripped his neck, the other provocatively patted his face. In a tone that brooked no refusal: “Call me master!” “Wendy, what nonsense are you…” Before he could finish, I directly slapped him. That beautiful face instantly showed a bright red mark. “I said, call me master. You trying to rebel?” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but the android’s eyes seemed to clear considerably for a moment. His Adam’s apple also unconsciously bobbed. A few seconds later, a hoarse voice sounded. “Master.” Finally hearing the satisfactory answer, my heart was incredibly pleased. Then I guided his hand downward: “Good dogs get rewards. Master will first tell you master’s unique secret.” After speaking, the android seemed to realize something, his pupils suddenly contracting. And I, watching his shocked expression, felt the seed of mischief in my heart sprouting even more vigorously: “How about that, do you know now?” “Don’t worry, master will reward you thoroughly right away!” With that, I directly swung my long leg over and straddled him.

I’d originally woken up at noon, but after this ordeal, I collapsed back to sleep until evening. When I woke, my first instinct was to curse someone out, but then I was met with the aroma of food. My heart filled with confusion as I walked over on trembling legs. I saw the android in the kitchen, wearing an apron while cooking. That appearance—extremely domestic, yet exceptionally warm. And pleasing to the eye. Just like the married life I’d fantasized about as a child. My originally shitty mood instantly improved. At this moment, Spencer’s android also noticed me. His cheeks seemed to have a faint blush compared to before: “You’re awake?” “Then come eat dinner.” “Oh.” I responded and walked toward the table. Amazed once again. Worth it! This $999 was totally worth it! Not only could he do laundry and cook, he even massaged my waist before I went to sleep. Total male housekeeper. Not to mention he had Spencer’s incredibly handsome face. So while he was massaging, I started getting distracted again. Couldn’t help wanting another taste. Just as I pounced, I accidentally knocked my teeth on the android’s chin. Rock hard—hurt so bad I yelped. At the same time, with a thud, a phone also fell to the floor. I instinctively felt my pocket and found my beloved phone was still safely there. Then whose was that on the floor? “It looks kind of familiar…” I murmured while picking it up. Took a closer look! Holy shit, isn’t this Spencer’s phone? How did it end up at my place? Just as I was shocked, I suddenly met the android’s dark eyes below. A chilly wind swept up my back. The phone just fell from his body. So he is… “The phone was left by that gentleman last night.” “I forgot to tell master, sorry.” Before I could finish that terrifying speculation, Spencer’s android suddenly spoke. And sat up from the sofa. “That’s good, that’s good.” I’d just breathed a sigh of relief when I suddenly thought of something, my heart rising again: “Wait!” “How did you know someone brought me home last night? Did I unbox you in front of him?” Then wouldn’t he guess the real purpose of me buying the android? A wave of fear washed over me. Fortunately, Spencer’s android’s answer came quickly: “No, you only opened me after that gentleman left.” “It’s just that when the delivery was brought up, it accidentally got bumped, hitting my power switch, so I activated early.” “I only knew that gentleman came because I saw through two holes in the box.” “He didn’t notice me, don’t worry.” I quickly patted my chest: “So that’s what happened. Scared me to death.” “If that Spencer found out, he’d kill me.” Hearing this, the android’s eyes became somewhat deep: “You really don’t like him?” “Ugh, just thinking about him is aggravating.” “Why do you say that?” The android seemed to have his interest piqued. Usually as quiet as Spencer, now asking question after question. I waved my hand dismissively: “Don’t ask things you shouldn’t ask.” But the next second, I saw him lower his eyes, eyelashes trembling slightly. Looking somewhat disappointed: “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just a bit curious since that gentleman last night looked exactly like me.” “I know I was custom-made. I suppose I’m his replacement.” The way he said it made me sound like some kind of promiscuous bitch. I couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. So I went to explain: “Um… you are a replacement, but not in the traditional sense.” Then I told him all about how Spencer exploited me, how he made me work overtime in various ways, my inner complaints, and how I custom-ordered an android that looked like him just to vent my frustration. The android was silent for a long moment, an expression of hidden restraint appearing between his brows. “Then he really was too much to you.” I patted his shoulder in agreement: “Exactly! So how could I possibly like this kind of evil capitalist?” “I bought you purely to vent, to thoroughly bully…” Before I finished speaking, the Spencer android took my hand and placed it on his smooth face: “Mm, I understand. It’s okay, I’m not afraid of pain. You can ravage me to your heart’s content. Vent all your workplace frustrations on me. I can take it.” After speaking, his beautiful eyes lifted, as if hinting: “Just like you vented today.”

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My boyfriend is David, the Alpha of Moonridge Pack. During the New Moon Festival, he told me not to come to the pack banquet. His reason? “You’re just a bartender. You’ve been at the bar so long, you reek of alcohol. My mom can’t stand it.” I had already requested time off and booked my flight, planning to take a solo trip to clear my head. Instead, he brought Grace to the pack banquet. Grace is the sister of Pine Valley Pack’s Alpha. Standing next to David, she looked like she belonged there. Photos from Moonridge Pack’s New Moon Festival banquet hit social media that very night. Someone tagged me in the comments: “Mia, did you see this?” I saw it. I canceled my flight, changed my destination, and booked a private jet instead. The night David came back, I was packing my things. He stood in the doorway, looking unusually guilty. “Where are you going?” “Home.” “Your home is right here—” “No, it’s not.” I zipped up my suitcase and walked past him without stopping. He didn’t know that my father is the Alpha King—and also his pack’s biggest creditor.

“Mia, how long are you going to play this hard-to-get game?” David kicked my suitcase over, his eyes full of impatience. “Canceling your flight and changing your destination—you think switching up your travel plans will make me bow down to you?” I stopped and looked at his self-righteous face. “I told you, I’m going home.” “Your home is right here.” “No, it’s not.” I looked at him. “Let go.” He hadn’t expected me to look at him this way. No more of my usual resignation. No hysterical accusations. Just cold indifference, like I was looking at garbage. He seemed momentarily flustered, but his Alpha pride quickly covered it up. He sneered and yanked my passport out of my bag. “You’re an orphan. Besides here, what home could you possibly go back to?” I stared at my empty palm. I didn’t scream or try to grab it back. “Give me my passport.” “When you learn to be reasonable, I’ll give it to you naturally.” He casually tossed the passport into the top drawer of the entryway cabinet and deliberately locked it. “I brought Grace to the pack banquet today because her brother can help Moonridge Pack secure the northern hunting territory.” “You’re just a bartender who mixes drinks all day. Besides making cocktails, what can you do for me?” “I’m just playing along for the pack’s future. My feelings for you haven’t changed at all. Why do you have to make a scene at a time like this?” I looked at the man I’d loved for seven years and suddenly found his face utterly repulsive. Playing along? So you brought another woman before your pack members and let her act like the future Luna? “David, do you think I have no temper? That you can trample on me however you like?” David frowned, as if he found me unreasonable. “That alcohol smell on you gives my mom a headache. I told you not to come to protect you from being wronged.” Just then, the doorbell rang. Grace stood outside in a haute couture dress, smiling brightly. “David, is Mia mad at me?” She walked in and naturally linked her arm through David’s. “I just thought this apartment’s terrace had a great view and wanted to borrow it for a birthday party. Why is Mia threatening to run away from home?” I watched them coldly. This downtown penthouse—I had bought it outright with my own pocket money back then. David’s name wasn’t even on the deed. Every piece of furniture, every plant inside—I had arranged them all myself. Now, without even asking me, he had directly agreed to lend my house to his mistress for a party? At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [This guy is unbelievable—using his girlfriend’s house for his mistress’s party?] [And he complains about a bartender smelling bad, but his heart stinks worse.] [Mia, stop holding back. Just crush him with money. The Alpha King’s daughter shouldn’t take this abuse.] “She’s just petty and hasn’t seen the world.” David patted Grace’s hand, his tone gentle. “It’s just an apartment. You’re the pack’s honored guest. Use it however you want.” He turned to look at me, his gaze instantly turning cold. “Mia, Grace’s brother is an Alpha, backed by the powerful Pine Valley Pack. She’s doing you a favor by using your house.” “Be generous. Don’t make me think you’re unreasonable.” I stared at their intertwined arms. “Fine. Lend her the house.” My tone was calm. David paused, seemingly surprised by my compliance. “At least you know what’s good for you.” “But if anything gets damaged, she pays for it.” I stared hard at Grace. Grace covered her mouth and laughed. “Mia, you’re so funny. These little things? I couldn’t care less about them.” “Good.” I turned to grab my spare bag, preparing to leave. “What are you doing now?” David strode over and blocked my path. “Since you’re borrowing the house for the party, I’ll be an eyesore staying here. I’m going to a hotel.” “Mia, I’m warning you. Enough is enough.” He lowered his voice, his tone condescending. “I pushed back a pack meeting tonight to come home and keep you company. Don’t be ungrateful.” I walked around him, heading straight for the door. “If you walk out that door today, you’ll never set foot in Moonridge Pack territory again.” “Perfect.”

“You really think I can’t live without you?” David’s voice rang out behind me, filled with the anger of someone whose pride had been wounded. I didn’t look back. I pulled the door open. Just then, a stray dog covered in mud suddenly bolted in from the hallway and lunged straight at David. Mud splattered all over his designer suit pants. I stopped, waiting to see him explode in rage. David had extremely severe germophobia. In the past, when I came home from the bar, even if I changed out of my clothes at the door, showered three times, and put on completely fresh clothes—if he thought I still had even a faint trace of alcohol smell, he’d frown and tell me to stay away from him. Once, during the bar’s anniversary celebration, I got beer splashed all over me. When I got home and just wanted a hug, he shoved me away and spent two hours washing his hands in disgust. But now, looking at the mud on his pants, his brow only furrowed for a second. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, David! I just picked up this puppy downstairs—it’s so naughty.” Grace quickly crouched down and pulled out tissues to wipe it off. David actually smiled. Not only did he not get angry, he reached out and petted the filthy dog’s head. “It’s fine. Grace being caring is a good thing. It’s just a suit.” He even proactively held Grace’s hand as she wiped, their eyes locked. I stood in the doorway, watching this heartwarming “family of three” interaction, and suddenly felt intensely nauseated. So he never had any damn germophobia at all. He simply found me disgusting, detestable. He looked down on my profession and identity from the bottom of his heart. At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [Double standards. The germophobia was fake—not loving her is what’s real.] [Look how naturally he pets that dog. Disgusting.] [Mia’s expression is so cold. She’s completely given up on him.] “Mia, you don’t mind me keeping the puppy here, do you?” Grace hugged the dog, looking innocently at me. “Whatever.” I pulled my suitcase toward the exit, but David grabbed my wrist. “There’s a limit to throwing tantrums. Stay for dinner.” Without allowing any argument, he dragged me back to the dining room and pressed me into a chair. The table was covered with takeout from an upscale restaurant—all seafood, Grace’s favorites. David put on disposable gloves and skillfully began peeling shrimp. He placed the peeled shrimp meat in Grace’s bowl, his tone doting. “Your hands are too delicate. Don’t let the shells cut you.” I quietly watched his smooth movements. Even though werewolves had exceptional healing abilities, he couldn’t bear to let Grace get even a scratch from a shrimp shell. But two years ago, when a drunk werewolf caused trouble at the bar and I accidentally got cut on my right hand during the altercation—requiring three stitches—I asked him to peel a shrimp for me that night at dinner. He slammed his fork down, his face full of impatience. “You’re a bartender and you can’t even peel a shrimp shell properly?” “Mia, can you stop being so dramatic?” Now, he was willingly peeling an entire plate of shrimp for another woman. So our love really couldn’t triumph over fated mates? Years ago, when I fell in love with David, I abandoned my own fated mate to be with him. David had also said that even if he met his fated mate later, he would reject her outright, because his heart belonged only to me. His fated mate never appeared after that, and I thought we could continue living happily together in peaceful simplicity. But after all these years, his fated mate Grace appeared, and he showed her all his tenderness—sides of himself I had never seen. Grace’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Mia, why aren’t you eating?” Grace ate her shrimp, smiling at me. “Is the food not to your taste? I guess spending so much time in bars makes it hard to have an appetite, right?” David didn’t even look up, continuing to crack open crab. “That’s just her lifeless expression. Don’t worry about her.” I put down my fork and stood up. “Have you seen enough?” David glanced at me coldly. “If you’re done watching, clear the table.”

“David gave me this necklace. You don’t mind, do you, Mia?” Grace deliberately swept back her long hair, revealing an antique emerald necklace around her neck. I had just thrown the takeout containers in the trash. When I turned and saw that necklace, blood rushed to my head. That was an heirloom of the Alpha King’s family—a relic my mother left me before she died. I had always kept it locked in my bedroom safe, rarely wearing it even myself. “Take it off.” I walked up to Grace, my tone icy. “Mia, why are you being so mean?” Grace hid behind David, frightened. “David said this necklace would just gather dust in the safe. Better to have it look beautiful on my neck.” David protected Grace, frowning at me. “Mia, enough. You’re just jealous of Grace. You’re fighting over a worthless necklace?” “I’ll buy you ten tomorrow. Pick whichever you want.” Looking at his self-righteous face, I suddenly felt the past seven years had been one absurd joke. “David, that’s my mother’s relic.” “What right do you have to touch my safe?” David’s eyes flickered, but he quickly resumed his superior attitude. “Your things are my things. Why are we drawing such clear lines between us?” “Besides, Grace is accompanying me to Moonridge Pack’s banquet tonight. She needs a statement piece of jewelry.” “You’re a behind-the-scenes bartender who never shows her face. Wearing something like this would be wasted on you.” At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [Giving someone’s mother’s relic to his mistress? Is this guy brain damaged?] [This makes me so angry. That’s theft—call the police and arrest him.] [Mia is too calm. This is the calm before the storm. Can’t wait for Chapter 4 to slap him in the face.] “I’ll say this one last time. Take it off.” I stepped forward and reached directly for the necklace clasp. David shoved me away, the force making me crash into the corner of the dining table. Sharp pain shot through my lower back. “Mia, don’t push your luck.” David looked down at me, his eyes full of disgust. “Grace wearing your things is doing you a favor.” “If you keep being unreasonable, even I won’t want you anymore.” Grace hid behind him, a triumphant smile on her lips. “David, forget it. Maybe Mia really can’t bear to part with it. I’ll just give it back to her.” She made a show of reaching to unclasp the necklace. David pressed down on her hand. “Keep wearing it. I’d like to see who dares touch it today.” He stared coldly at me. “Mia, I don’t have time for your nonsense tonight. Stay home and reflect. When you’re ready to apologize, then call me.” With that, he pulled Grace and walked straight out the door. The door slammed shut. I held onto the table and slowly straightened up. The pain in my lower back made me even more clear-headed. I didn’t cry. I didn’t throw things. I walked into the bedroom and opened the safe that had been forcibly pried open. Inside, besides that necklace, there was a debt settlement document for Moonridge Pack. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in seven years. “Liam, I need you to do something for me.” Liam was my father the Alpha King’s Beta—and also my fated mate. Years ago, for so-called “true love” with David, I hid my identity, had a huge fight with my family, and even ran away from my arranged marriage to come here and work as a bartender. Liam had been searching for me for seven years. Waiting for me for seven years. “Mia, you’ve finally contacted me. The Alpha King has been thinking about you all these years…” Liam’s voice trembled slightly, which was rare for him. “Save the reminiscing for later.” I cut him off coldly, my eyes sharp as knives. “I need you to do something for me.” “Cut off all working capital to Moonridge Pack. Stop supplying resources to Moonridge Pack. Immediately.” Silence on the other end of the line for a second, then Liam’s low, pleased laughter came through. “As you wish, Mia.” “I’ll personally fly over with my team tomorrow. I guarantee that within forty-eight hours, David will be kneeling at your feet.” I hung up and looked at myself in the mirror—someone who had compromised for love for seven years. David, you asked for this.

The next evening at eight o’clock, Moonridge Pack held its celebration banquet. “Remove Mia’s name from tonight’s VIP guest list.” David stood at the hotel entrance, giving cold instructions to his assistant. I stood in the shadows not far away, hearing every word clearly. “But Alpha David, Mia comes every year to help verify the arrangements…” The assistant hesitated. “I don’t need her tonight.” David impatiently cut him off. “Grace will be attending as my date. If Mia’s there, it’ll only make Grace uncomfortable.” “Tell security—if they see her, keep her outside.” I watched him turn and walk into the opulent hall, not even feeling the desire to confront him one last time. Afraid of making his mistress uncomfortable, so he had to keep his actual girlfriend outside? “Tell David,” I looked into the assistant’s eyes and said word by word. “He will pay a price he cannot afford for today’s decision.” With that, I didn’t linger at all. I turned on my heels and walked away from the hotel without looking back. The big screen began scrolling through footage from inside the banquet. David held Grace’s hand and walked into the spotlight. “Thank you all for coming. I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce the lady beside me.” He looked at Grace, his eyes tender. “Miss Grace will be the future Luna of Moonridge Pack.” Thunderous applause erupted below. I stood in the cold wind, watching the perfect couple on the screen, finally severing my last shred of attachment. I turned and walked toward a black Bentley parked by the roadside. Liam opened the car door and respectfully handed me a document. “Mia, the private jet is ready. We can leave whenever you’re ready.” “Let’s go. To the airport.” Halfway through the banquet, David suddenly felt intense anxiety. He habitually looked toward the corner but didn’t see that familiar figure. “Mia didn’t come?” He grabbed the assistant. “Alpha David, didn’t you order us not to let her in? Security said she left half an hour ago.” “Where did she go?” “It seems… to the private airport.” David’s heart sank heavily. Mia, someone who lived on a bartender’s salary and found even taxis too expensive—where would she get the money for a Bentley? He suddenly remembered that last night I said I had canceled my flight and changed destinations to go clear my head. That resolute look in my eyes when I said “perfect” flashed through his mind again. Was she really going to leave him completely? He pushed past Grace, who was making toasts, and rushed out of the hotel like a madman. At this moment, the live comments scrolled across my vision: [It’s finally coming—the private jet!] [David, run faster. Are you rushing to be reborn?] [The earlier parts were so frustrating. Finally going to feel satisfied. Can’t wait for the Alpha to grovel.] The cold wind howled. David ran to the private airport, gasping for breath as he searched everywhere for me. “Mia!” Just then, I stood on the boarding stairs of a private jet bearing the Alpha King’s insignia, looking down at him. David froze in place, his face full of disbelief. Standing next to me was an imposing middle-aged man. That was my father, the Alpha King. “David, Moonridge Pack still owes my family a debt that hasn’t been repaid.”

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