I am the real heiress of the Sterling family. It wasn’t until I died in poverty in my past life that I realized I was actually the biological daughter of Arthur Sterling, the billionaire tycoon. After my death, a mystical System bound itself to my soul, offering me a second chance at life. When I was reborn, I went to the Sterling family and initiated the DNA test myself. But the moment I returned to the family, Chloe, the fake heiress who had stolen my life, left a suicide note and jumped into the ocean. She died, instantly becoming the untouchable, tragic “golden girl” in everyone’s hearts. And I, the biological daughter, became nothing but her miserable shadow. My parents wept, demanding to know why I had to come back and ruin everything. My brother, Julian, cursed me, asking why it wasn’t me who died instead. Even my husband, in our most intimate moments, would whisper her name. Now that my five-year quest had failed, the System told me it could grant me one last wish before I died for good. I smiled faintly. “Then bring their precious Chloe back to life.”

The System was silent for a long time. “Can’t you do it? Chloe didn’t actually die, did she?” I asked. “Clara, are you sure about this?” the System’s mechanical voice sounded almost sad. I exhaled slowly, my voice cold and resolute. “I’m absolutely sure.” I was done begging for their fleeting affection and love. The living can never compete with the dead. Even if that “dead” person was actually alive and hiding somewhere. In my past life, I was worked to death at a young age, tortured and exploited by my adoptive parents. After my death, my soul lingered. I heard my adoptive mother, Mrs. Miller, sighing with relief, saying that I was finally dead and could no longer pose a threat to her real daughter’s future. That was when I discovered the truth. I was the Sterlings’ real daughter. My biological mother had gone into premature labor while vacationing in our small town, sharing a hospital room with Mrs. Miller. Seeing how incredibly wealthy my mother was, Mrs. Miller secretly swapped our baby tags. My spirit drifted to the Sterling mansion. I watched the fake heiress living a life of luxury I couldn’t even dream of. Her bedroom was larger than my entire childhood home. Her walk-in closet was overflowing with designer clothes. She wore beautiful gowns, carried herself with elegant grace, and had a private chauffeur to take her everywhere. And my biological parents and brother absolutely adored her. I couldn’t help but think: *If only I had grown up in that house. They would have loved me just as much.* That was when the System bound with me. It offered to let me start over, but with one condition. I had five years to make my family and my husband truly love me. If I succeeded, I could stay in this world. If I failed, I would die permanently. I accepted the deal without hesitation. How could such a warm, loving family not love their own biological daughter? So, after being reborn, I took the initiative to find them. When my mother saw my face—so strikingly similar to hers—she broke down in tears of joy. But during my grand welcoming gala, Chloe left a tragic note and threw herself off a cliff into the ocean. “I wish Clara all the happiness. Let me, the one who stole her eighteen years of luxury, pay for my sins with my life.” From that day on, everyone blamed me for Chloe’s death. My parents grew cold and distant. Julian hated me for murdering his beloved sister. But I hadn’t done a single thing wrong. Later, my father forced me into an arranged marriage with the Vance family. Every fiber of my being wanted to refuse because Tristan Vance was originally Chloe’s fiancé. But I had spent years walking on eggshells, too terrified to speak up. To my surprise, Tristan agreed to the marriage without a fight. It had been five years since my rebirth, and I had been married to Tristan for two. Yet, in those two years, he had never given me a single warm look. My time was running out. If I couldn’t get my family or my husband to love me, I would disappear forever. I grabbed Tristan’s sleeve just as he was about to walk out the door. “Can you just say you love me? Just once.” His dark eyes stared down at me, turning icy cold before he violently shook my hand off. “Clara, you are truly disgusting.” “You know today is the anniversary of Chloe’s death, yet you stand here demanding I say I love you? Have you forgotten I was supposed to marry her?” “The woman I wanted to marry was never you. You stole her place and took things that never belonged to you. Don’t push your luck.” But I didn’t force him to marry me. The marriage was a business merger between the Sterling Group and the Vance Group. It was purely for profit. He married me for money, so why was I the one carrying all the blame? I was his wife. I just wanted to hear him say he loved me. Was that really such a crime? “I just want to see what kind of magic Chloe has that makes my family and my husband hate me so much. So, bring her back.” I wanted to see if they would feel even a shred of guilt when their precious Chloe appeared before them, perfectly fine. “Very well. I will grant your wish,” the System replied. I lay lazily on the lounge chair, trying to rest, when my mother called. She immediately started yelling at me, demanding to know why I hadn’t gone to Chloe’s grave to pay my respects. She said I owed her this. For the past five years, this day had felt like a public execution. I would be dragged out like a criminal while they wept over their memories of Chloe. “I have things to do today. I’m not coming,” I said coldly. The line went dead silent for a few seconds. She couldn’t believe that I, who had spent years desperately trying to please them, had actually rejected her. I didn’t have many days left to live. Why should I go back and let them treat me like garbage? Besides, their beloved Chloe was coming back anyway.

But my refusal to play along didn’t mean they were going to let me go. The next afternoon, Julian burst into my house, trembling with rage. “Clara! Why didn’t you come home yesterday? You made Mom cry her eyes out!” The fury in his eyes was so intense it looked like he wanted to burn me alive. I just stared at him, my expression completely blank. My lack of reaction only made him angrier. “I hate this fake, emotionless act of yours! Stop pretending!” “Do you have any idea what yesterday was? It was Chloe’s death anniversary! You killed her five years ago, and you don’t feel a single shred of remorse? You knew Mom would be devastated, and you didn’t even bother to come back and comfort her!” “You don’t deserve to be Mom’s daughter. You aren’t even worth a single hair on Chloe’s head. Why couldn’t it have been you who died?” Listening to his harsh words, I remembered how much it used to hurt. I used to cry and beg for his forgiveness, trying everything to make him like me. I wanted him to protect me the way other brothers protected their sisters. But five years of coldness had completely frozen my heart. I was done coddling them. After all, Chloe was on her way back. Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain flared in my chest. It was happening so fast. In my past life, this was the exact time I had died of bone cancer brought on by extreme exhaustion. Since I had failed the System’s mission, was my body reverting to its cancerous state? I clutched my chest, my face turning deathly pale as cold sweat broke out on my forehead. “Clara, cut the act. I’m not falling for your pathetic drama,” Julian sneered. I couldn’t help but laugh, a cold, mocking sound escaping my lips. “Wow, you’re so smart, Julian. You saw right through me.” “You’re right. I did it on purpose. I deliberately stayed away to ruin Mom’s day, and now I’m pretending to be sick just to annoy you.” I lifted my chin, looking at him with a spiteful glare I had never shown before. “Seeing how miserable and angry you all are… it actually makes me incredibly happy.” “If I had known this would be so much fun, I wouldn’t have spent the last five years acting like a kicked puppy. It’s such a pity that a horrible person like me is still alive…” “…while your precious, perfect Chloe is rotting in the ocean.” I curled my lips into a cruel smile. “Jumping off a cliff… that must have been so terrifying and painful. But honestly, she got off easy after stealing my wealth for eighteen years.” *SLAP!* A stinging slap landed squarely on my cheek. My face burned instantly, and my ears started ringing. Julian’s face went pale. He stared at his hand in shock, a brief flicker of regret crossing his eyes. His mouth opened slightly, and for a split second, I thought he was going to apologize. But the next moment, his arrogant, defensive mask slipped right back on. He pressed his lips together, looking down at me with disdain. “You brought this on yourself. You know Chloe is a topic you never touch, yet you deliberately brought her up to provoke me.” With that, he turned on his heel and slammed the door. Feeling the fiery pain on my face, I finally lost my battle with tears. To say it didn’t hurt would be a lie. I had desperately wanted a brother’s love. I remembered my childhood neighbor, Lily, who had an older brother. Whenever it rained, he would carry her on his back. When they walked, he would hold her hand. And whenever their parents scolded her, he would stand in front of her, shielding her. Every time Mrs. Miller beat me, I would pray to God that I had a brother who would protect me and stand by my side. But when I finally got a brother, Julian coldly told me that he only had one sister, and her name was Chloe. That was when I realized not all brothers were created equal. Still, I had tried so hard to please him. When Chloe “died,” Julian was so devastated he couldn’t eat or drink. I stayed up all night to bake his favorite chicken pot pie, only for him to smash the dish onto the floor. “You will never replace Chloe! Don’t you dare touch her recipes! Only Chloe is allowed to make this for me!” The scalding hot gravy had splattered all over my arms, breaking out into painful blisters. Tears had welled up in my eyes from the pain, but Julian had only sneered. “It was just a little splash. Stop acting so dramatic. Who are you trying to manipulate?” Back then, I had lowered my gaze, telling myself that he was just grieving the sister he had lived with for over a decade. I shouldn’t hold a grudge. As long as I kept treating him well, he would accept me eventually. But it was all just a foolish delusion. Some hearts are made of ice, and no amount of warmth can melt them. *** In my sleep, I felt a soft sigh brush against my ear. Then, a cool, soothing ointment was gently spread across my bruised cheek. “Why do you have to provoke Julian? You know his temper is always terrible around the anniversary.” “You’ve behaved yourself for five years. Why start trouble now?” I opened my eyes to see Tristan sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a tube of bruise cream. He clearly already knew what had happened. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you back to the Sterling mansion. I’ll make Julian apologize to you,” Tristan said. Looking at his hypocritical face, I let out a dry laugh. “Why are you pretending to be the good guy now? You’re no better than Julian.” “If you loved Chloe so much, why didn’t you jump off the cliff with her?” “Everyone says she died because of me, so why did you marry her supposed murderer? Oh, right. Because of the Vance Group’s profits. It was a business merger.” “Since you married me but treat me like garbage, making me live in her shadow every day, you’re actually worse than Julian.” “Do you have any idea how disgusting it is to watch you perform your tragic, loyal lover act in front of me?” Tristan stared at me, frozen, as if he were seeing me for the very first time. I provoked him further. “Do you want to know why Julian slapped me?” I leaned closer, my eyes flashing with absolute coldness. “I told him that Chloe deserved to die. I said she got what she deserved, that her death was…” “Clara!” Tristan growled, his hand wrapping around my throat, squeezing tightly until my face turned red from lack of oxygen. See? Chloe was their sacred goddess. No one could mention her, no one could criticize her, or they would turn into monsters. He suppressed his rage, his eyes wild. “What is wrong with you today? You already have everything that belonged to Chloe. Why can’t you just be satisfied? What more do you want before you stop acting up?” *Acting up.* A slight display of self-respect was considered “acting up” to him. Maybe because he saw how much I was struggling to breathe, he finally let go of my neck. I gasped for air, coughing violently, then looked at him with a mocking grin. “What do I want? What if I told you I want you to say you love me?” There was still time. If even one of them said they loved me, I could live. Tristan pressed his lips into a hard line, his eyes turning cold and dismissive. His silence spoke volumes. I burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face. His silence meant: *You stole Chloe’s husband. How dare you have the audacity to beg for my heart?* “Tristan, I really want to see the look on your face when you find out…” I cut myself off, staring at him with deep amusement. No, it would be much more fun if he discovered the truth himself. “Find out what?” he demanded. *Find out that Chloe isn’t dead. Find out why she staged her suicide.* But I didn’t say a word.

Ever since Chloe “died,” I had lived under a mountain of guilt. I kept asking myself if my return had truly driven an innocent girl to commit suicide. During my darkest moments, when I was on the verge of taking my own life, the System had intervened. “Chloe Sterling is not dead,” it told me. “She ran away with the school’s bad boy, Derrick Cooper, because she was pregnant with his baby.” She was too terrified of ruining her perfect image in front of her parents, so she didn’t dare confess the truth. But she also wanted to punish me. So, she played a brilliant final hand. She staged her suicide on the day of my welcoming gala, escaping with her lover while leaving a note that ruined my life. I truly couldn’t wait to see the look on Tristan’s face when he realized his beloved “pure” white angel had actually run away to play house with a deadbeat. “Clara.” Maybe the mockery on my face was too obvious. Tristan’s expression darkened. “You don’t deserve to speak her name.” “Every single day you draw breath, you must remember that you are the reason she is dead. You owe her for the rest of your life.” Tristan left, his face like stone. Just like Julian, this was the first time he had ever seen me fight back. That night, the excruciating pain returned. My bones felt like they were being pierced by thousands of tiny needles. I curled into a ball on the bed, unable to sleep a single wink. At dawn, I threw up a mouthful of blood. I asked the System how much longer I had. The System, which had spent five years with me, sounded like it was on the verge of tears. “Less than two weeks.” “Clara, don’t be sad.” I wasn’t sad. Before I came back to this family, I was filled with hope and excitement for the future. But these past five years of being treated like a murderer, of enduring their cold glares, had completely drained every ounce of hope I had. I actually regretted my choice. I should have just stayed dead in my previous life. I opened my bedroom door, and Tristan was standing there, his hand raised as if he were about to knock. It was rare for him to look for me so early. “Let’s get a divorce,” I said flatly. Tristan’s lips went pale, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What kind of game are you playing now?” “I don’t want to live with you anymore. You don’t love me, so why keep torturing each other?” “Don’t even think about it. You are never leaving me,” he snarled, turning and storming off. Right after he left, Julian arrived. He told me Mom was sick and demanded I come back to the Sterling mansion immediately. As we walked out, Julian looked down at me, his eyes filled with a cruel, smug satisfaction he couldn’t hide. Julian had a reason to be smug. Ever since Chloe’s “death,” our mother had been plagued by severe anxiety and persistent fevers. She was constantly trapped in nightmares, and no doctors could find a physical cause for her fevers. Later, a spiritual medium told the family that this was a sickness of the soul. The only way she could heal was if the person who caused her grief repented. Mom’s grief, of course, was Chloe. In her fever dreams, she would scream Chloe’s name, weeping and apologizing, saying she regretted ever bringing me back. She cried that she had let Chloe down. So, every time Mom fell ill, I was forced to kneel at her bedside, forbidden to stand until her fever broke. Over the past five years, I had lost count of how many times I had knelt there until I fainted from exhaustion. But this time, when I walked into Mom’s bedroom, I stood straight and kept my eyes lowered. I didn’t kneel. Our father, Arthur, glared at me with pure rage. “You ungrateful brat! Why aren’t you on your knees? Your mother gave birth to you! Have you no conscience? How can you stand there and watch her suffer?” I remained silent. My father grew even more furious, raising his hand to strike me. Julian stood by, watching the show with a smirk, mouthing silently: *Apologize to me, and I’ll help you.* I gave Julian a cold look, then voluntarily went down onto my knees. Whatever. I would kneel. The sooner I died, the sooner I could escape this wretched place. I never wanted to see these disgusting people ever again. We were living in the twenty-first century, yet they still believed in spiritual curses. Or maybe they didn’t believe it at all—they just wanted a scapegoat, and I was the perfect target. In the past, even when I was punished, they would at least feed me. But this time, Julian only sent up three bowls of plain watery congee a day. I wasn’t some weak-willed girl who thrived on scraps. I knew this was Julian’s doing. In the past, he would sneak in at night and let me rest. But this time, Julian stayed in the room, watching me through the night. His arrogant eyes seemed to say: *Beg me, and I’ll let you rest.* I didn’t give him a single glance. My knees had already gone completely numb. I closed my eyes and forced myself to think of happy memories. But no matter how hard I searched through both of my lifetimes, I couldn’t find a single moment of genuine happiness. From the moment I could remember, Mrs. Miller had treated me like a pack mule. Whenever I wasn’t at school, I had endless chores. And whenever she missed her real daughter, she would lock me in a room and starve me. After returning to my biological family, I thought I would finally be happy. Instead, I had plunged into an even darker abyss. I had spent five years tiptoeing around them, begging for just a tiny drop of love. But they couldn’t even give me that. I couldn’t win over a single one of them. I felt like an absolute failure. Sometimes, I wondered if I was just fundamentally unlovable.

Tristan actually showed up, but he only gave me a cold, passing glance before going to talk to Julian about Mom’s condition. He didn’t offer a single word of concern for me—his wife, who had been kneeling on the hard floor for days. “I told you not to be too soft on her. Look what she’s become. She actually thinks she can replace Chloe,” Julian’s mocking voice drifted over. Tristan let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “She could never replace Chloe. She isn’t even in the same league.” Julian purposely raised his voice so I could hear every word. “She spent years shamelessly begging for our attention. She even tried to bake chicken pot pies for me just like Chloe did. It was pathetic.” “She’s like a thief who stole Chloe’s family and Chloe’s husband. Now that a few years have passed, she’s finally showing her true, ugly colors.” So, my years of careful devotion were nothing but “shameless begging” and “disgusting” to them. This was supposed to be my family. How was I a thief? And marrying Tristan was never my choice. If he hated it so much, he could have refused. Why take his anger out on me? “Look at her, pretending to be pale and victimized. Who is she trying to fool?” Since falling ill, my entire body had been racked with constant pain. I was completely exhausted, yet they actually believed I was faking it. Tristan sneered, walking over and looking down at me. “I’ll give you one last chance. Apologize to me.” I slowly lifted my head, my face devoid of emotion. “Please, sign the divorce papers as soon as possible.” Tristan’s face contorted with rage. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me up roughly. “Clara, stop throwing these tantrums! Why do you think you got to marry me in the first place? If Chloe were still here, do you think I would have ever looked at you?” He squeezed my wrist tightly, his voice dripping with venom. “You better take those words back right—” Before he could finish his threat, my body reached its absolute limit. I coughed violently, and a dark spray of blood splattered onto his expensive shoes. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. “Clara! What’s wrong with you?” “Clara! Why are you spitting blood?” “Stop pretending!” How hilarious. I actually heard a note of panic in their voices. My body felt weightless as someone lifted me into their arms. Almost at the exact same moment, frantic, ecstatic shouting echoed from the hallway outside. “Chloe is back! Miss Chloe isn’t dead! She’s alive!”

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Three days before my wedding with Ethan. My best friend, Chloe, sat crying on her couch, sobbing that she had fallen in love with someone she shouldn’t have. That night, I stayed with her and drank until we were both wasted. Then, I called Ethan to come pick us up. Half an hour later, I heard those familiar footsteps stop right beside me. Ethan leaned down, gently pinching my cheek just like he used to do whenever I got drunk. “Hazel?” he whispered. I bit back a smile and pretended to be asleep. I thought that once he realized I was faking, he’d let out a helpless sigh, scoop me up in his arms, and kiss me senseless as a “punishment.” Just like he had done a thousand times before. But the next second, he turned away from me and walked over to Chloe. “Chloe, why did you drink so much?” Chloe sleepily grabbed his sleeve. “Ethan…” He didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned down and cooed, “I’m right here.” I lay there, frozen on the couch. Every drop of alcohol in my system evaporated instantly. At that exact moment, I realized something. I knew exactly who Chloe was in love with.

Ethan carried Chloe to the front passenger seat first. His movements were practiced and natural. When he finally turned back to carry me, I slowly opened my eyes. “Ethan, why did you carry her first?” His steps paused. He looked down at me, his voice low and soothing. “She’s much drunker than you. You can stretch out and lie down in the back seat. It’s more comfortable.” I nodded slowly. His logic made sense. But for some reason, my chest still ached. I looked down, pretending the alcohol was hitting me again, and weakly grabbed the hem of his jacket. “Ethan.” He looked down at me. “Yeah?” “If you ever cheat on me, I’ll ruin you.” He let out a low chuckle, treating me like a drunk, unreasonable girl throwing a tantrum. “I could never. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” I didn’t say anything. I just slowly closed my eyes. The bridge of my nose stung with unshed tears. As we went through an intersection, a pedestrian suddenly ran across the street. Ethan slammed on the brakes. My forehead hit the back of the front seat. The pain made my vision go black for a second. His first instinct, however, was to reach out his arm to shield Chloe. Only after Chloe was securely settled did he look up, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. I quickly shut my eyes. I didn’t even dare to analyze whether he was worried about me, or just trying to see if I was awake. Before I knew it, the car stopped in front of Chloe’s apartment building. Ethan got out, bent down, and carried Chloe inside. I slowly pushed the car door open and followed them. The hallway was quiet, with only the echo of our footsteps. I kept a few paces behind them. Over and over, I kept telling myself in my head: Maybe you’re just overthinking. But the next second, Ethan pressed his thumb against the biometric lock. The door clicked open. I froze, staring in absolute disbelief. Chloe stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. Their silhouettes tangled together as they stepped backward into the apartment. In that single moment, I realized. Some questions didn’t need to be asked anymore. Through the half-open door, Ethan finally looked up. The moment he saw me standing there, it was as if he’d been slapped awake. He pushed Chloe away abruptly. “Chloe’s drunk. I was just helping her upstairs.” My gaze drifted to the biometric lock. I asked quietly, “Did you set up your fingerprint just to help her upstairs, too?” Ethan went silent for two long seconds before speaking in a low voice. “She needed help with wedding samples and client drafts before. I just helped her out a few times.” “Was kissing her also part of the job?” Chloe’s eyes were red as she spoke up. “Hazel, don’t blame him. It was all me…” “Chloe, since when is it your job to explain things for my fiancé?” Ethan immediately stepped forward, shielding Chloe behind his back. “Enough, Hazel. This has nothing to do with her.” I looked at him calmly and nodded. “Right, it has nothing to do with her. I shouldn’t have followed you up, I shouldn’t have seen it, and I shouldn’t have asked.” A flash of panic crossed Ethan’s eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” I shook my head. “I’ve spent the entire car ride making excuses for you.” “But I’m done lying to myself. We’re over.” With that, I turned around and walked away. Hurried footsteps echoed behind me. Ethan grabbed my wrist, his palm burning hot against my skin. “Hazel, stop talking out of anger, okay?” “We’ve been together for eight years, not eight days.” “The wedding dress is picked, the venue is booked. Our wedding is in three days.” “You were up until midnight yesterday editing our wedding video.” My steps halted. That video was a collection of proposal clips he had secretly recorded in countless places. From our college campus to street corners, from snowy mountains to the beach. Eight years of our lives, pieced together second by second by my own hands. My eyes welled with tears. At that moment, I almost wanted to ask him: Ethan, can you cut ties with Chloe right now? But before I could speak, a soft whimper came from inside the apartment. “Ethan…” The next second, his grip on my wrist loosened. “Her stomach is acting up. I need to go check on her.” He took two steps back inside, then paused, looking at me as if fearing I would actually disappear. “Hazel, wait for me downstairs.” “Wait till I get back, and we’ll talk.”

I looked at him and slowly pulled my hand away. “Okay.” Ethan visibly relaxed and turned back into the apartment. I stood there, pulling out my phone to open the WhatsApp wedding planning group. I suddenly remembered when Ethan first started out as an independent wedding planner. He had worked through the night, revising the itinerary over and over again. I had asked him, “It’s just one wedding. Why are you working so hard?” He had looked down and smiled. “Because every bride is trusting us with a once-in-a-lifetime dream.” “A wedding planner’s most important job is to never let the bride down.” Later, for our own wedding, he spent over three months tweaking the design. Chloe had also volunteered to be our wedding coordinator. I stared at the chat box, and finally sent out a single message: [The wedding is canceled.] In the back of the Uber, my phone buzzed continuously. This time, it was Chloe. I picked up. “Hazel, please don’t be reckless, okay?” Soon, the voice on the other end changed to Ethan’s. “I was wrong tonight.” “But you can’t throw away everyone’s hard work just because you’re mad at me.” I stared out the window and said softly, “Ethan.” “Do you remember what you told me when you planned your first wedding?” “Well, you’ve completely let your bride down.” With that, I hung up. My fingers clenched tightly around my phone. I couldn’t understand. Why did it have to be them? The two people closest to me had personally destroyed the future I had looked forward to for so long. I lowered my head, finally breaking down into tears. I didn’t go back to our shared apartment. All the wedding decorations were still there, along with everything we had prepared. But after tonight, I never wanted to step foot in that place again. By the time I made it to my flower studio, the sky was already turning gray. The next morning, Ethan’s call woke me up. “Hazel, Chloe lost the bridal bouquet you dropped off yesterday while she was doing inventory.” “Can you put together a replacement? I’ll come pick it up.” I held the phone, not answering immediately. If this had happened yesterday, I would have panicked. But now, I felt entirely numb. The contract was still active, and the final payment hadn’t been settled yet. “Okay,” I replied. I opened the walk-in cooler. Since my own wedding was supposed to be tomorrow, I hadn’t ordered any new inventory. The only flowers left inside were the ones I had saved for myself. Ethan had helped me pick them out, stem by stem. I pulled them out, trimming the stems, removing the thorns, and wrapping them with ribbon. With every cut of the shears, it felt like I was snipping away a piece of our past. Just as the bouquet was nearly finished, the doorbell rang. Ethan had arrived, with Chloe trailing right behind him. When Ethan saw the flowers on the table, his face fell. “Hazel, aren’t these…” He didn’t finish his sentence. I bent my head to tie the final ribbon. “Yeah, they were meant for my wedding tomorrow.” Ethan frowned. I handed the completed bouquet to him. “I don’t have anything else.” After a pause, I smiled faintly. “No more flowers, and no more wedding.” Just as he was about to speak, Chloe tugged at his sleeve. “Ethan, we’re going to be late.” Ultimately, he took the bouquet. “Hazel, wait for me to get back.” After watching them walk away, I opened my email on my phone. At the very top of my inbox was an admission letter from a prestigious floral design school in Paris, received three days ago. Honestly, I had waited for this opportunity for a long time. But Ethan had told me that once we were married, I shouldn’t go running off to other countries. I tapped the confirmation link again. And booked a one-way ticket leaving tonight. I began canceling everything related to the wedding. With every vendor chat I closed, it felt like I was tearing out a piece of my own soul from the last eight years. In the end, only the venue setup remained, which I didn’t have the authorization to cancel. By the time I arrived at the hotel to find Ethan, the bride’s reception was already underway. On stage, the bride held my bouquet, her face glowing with happiness. The bride choked up as she spoke into the mic: “The person I want to thank the most today is Chloe.” “My original bouquet was lost by the florist.” “But Chloe put this one together at the last minute so I wouldn’t have any regrets.”

Ethan spotted me in the banquet hall almost immediately. He walked over quickly, blocking my path. “This is the first wedding Chloe is coordinating on her own.” “She worked so hard on this. Don’t make a scene now.” I hadn’t said a single word. Yet in his eyes, my mere presence made me the villain who was there to ruin Chloe’s moment. I pulled out the floral delivery receipt from my bag. Chloe’s signature was clearly written on it. Chloe’s face turned pale, and she immediately reached out to grab it. “Hazel, can we talk about this after the wedding, please?” “I know you’re mad at me, but today is about the client…” Hearing the commotion, the bride’s mother walked over. “Is there a problem here?” Chloe lowered her head, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, this is my fault.” “The bride was under a lot of stress, and there was an issue with the original bouquet. I just made a quick replacement.” With that one sentence, all eyes fell on me. I looked up at Ethan. But he only gently pressed down on my wrist. “Let’s just get through the wedding first.” I suddenly remembered how, in the past, whenever something went wrong, Ethan would always stand by my side without hesitation. Back then, even without proof, he believed me. Now, knowing the truth, he was telling me to back down. The bride’s mother looked at me cold-eyed. “Miss Brooks, today is my daughter’s wedding. Whatever business issues you have, they shouldn’t be brought here.” My mouth opened, but no words came out. I had already lost my own wedding. I didn’t want to ruin another bride’s day. Numbly, I sat down on a sofa outside the banquet hall. Through the half-open door, I saw Chloe’s manager scolding her with a dark expression. “You were in charge of inventory. You lost the bouquet and then had the client thank you publicly?” Chloe kept her head down, tears streaming down her face. Ethan stood beside her, making excuses on her behalf. Once the manager left, the hallway fell quiet again. Ethan turned and walked toward me. “Are you happy now, Hazel?” “Chloe worked herself to the bone for this.” “Did you really have to destroy all her hard work?” I suddenly burst out laughing. “Ethan, is Chloe really that important to you?” “So important that you can’t even tell right from wrong anymore?” Ethan seemed to finally register what he had said. His expression stiffened, and he took a step closer to me. “That’s not what I meant.” “Things were just too chaotic. I was stressed, and I took it out on you.” He was always like this during our past arguments. He’d make me cry first, then soften his voice to comfort me. And as long as he apologized, I would always cave. “Ethan, for work matters, contact my assistant.” “As for our personal life, we’re done.” Ethan let out a bitter, frustrated laugh. “Have you had enough of this tantrum?” Chloe also spoke up, her eyes red. “Hazel, this joke is going a bit too far.” Before the words could fully leave her mouth, a sudden commotion broke out inside the banquet hall. The groom stormed out, his face incredibly dark. The next second, he threw the bouquet violently on the floor right in front of us. “Didn’t we explicitly tell you guys that the bride is highly allergic to gardenias?” I instinctively looked down. Among the scattered white roses on the floor, there was a single gardenia stem.

Chloe froze, her face instantly losing all color. Tears fell from her eyes right on cue. “Hazel, I know you hate me.” “But the client is innocent…” Ethan frowned, turning his gaze to me. “Hazel, I never thought you could be this malicious.” I curled my lips into a bitter smile, staring straight back at him. “Me neither.” Ethan startled, clearly not expecting that response. He knit his brows, lowering his voice. “Hazel, now is not the time to be stubborn. Apologize to the client first.” Chloe chimed in softly, her eyes red. “Hazel, the bride is resting in the bridal suite. Just go apologize.” She made it sound like she was trying to help me. But every word she spoke was framing me for the crime. The groom was completely furious now, pointing a finger at us as he yelled, “Is this how you run a business?” “You’re quick to take credit, but when something goes wrong, you just point fingers?” Their family members quickly surrounded us, pushing and shoving, demanding an explanation. Chloe gasped, stumbling backward. Almost at the same time, someone shoved my shoulder hard. My foot slipped, and I fell onto the floor. As Ethan rushed over, I still looked up. In that split second, my body reacted faster than my brain. Eight years of habit made me believe he would check on me first. But the next second, he brushed right past me. He pulled Chloe into his arms, shielding her. “Stop pushing!” Just then, the paramedics arrived. The bride was wheeled out. Chloe held her wrist, her eyes brimming with tears. Ethan immediately supported her. “Chloe, I’ll take you to the hospital.” I pushed myself up from the floor, blood trickling down my leg from my scraped knee. A hotel staff member nearby handed me some napkins. “Miss Brooks, you should tend to your leg.” I looked at Ethan. He was busy adjusting Chloe’s coat, never once looking back. In the emergency room hallway. Chloe sat next to Ethan while he softly comforted her. I sat on the opposite bench, letting the nurse clean the scrapes on my knee. The alcohol stung, making my fingers tremble. It wasn’t until the nurse called out my name to sign the paperwork that Ethan seemed to remember I was there. “Hazel?” He walked over, his brows furrowing when he saw my bloody knee. “How did you get hurt like this?” I didn’t answer. “Hazel, tonight was too chaotic. Don’t overthink things.” “Go home and rest. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning to head to the venue.” I looked at him and slowly pulled my leg back. “Okay.” He turned and walked away. And I walked in the opposite direction. By the time my flight landed in Paris and I turned my phone back on, a flood of notifications rushed in.

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I stole three thousand dollars from my husband, Ethan Vance. That very night, he called the police and had me arrested. After learning about the situation, the police officer tried to persuade Ethan: “Your wife only took the money to pay for your son’s emergency surgery. Why don’t you let this go?” Ethan sneered, his voice cold as ice: “She has hands and feet. If she wants money, she can earn it herself. If I let her off easy this time, she will only get worse in the future.” I smiled bitterly. Ever since our wedding day, when I had urgently asked him for a hundred thousand dollars because my father was critically ill in the hospital, I had been branded as a greedy gold digger in his heart. After we got married, if my expenses exceeded even a single dollar, I had to file a request with his secretary, Scarlett Ward. And every single time, Scarlett rejected my request. Scarlett wrapped her arm around Ethan’s, looking at me with pity: “Chloe, if you needed money, you could have just asked me. You don’t have to keep using the baby as an excuse. Leo is only three and a half. How could you teach your own child to lie like this?” I glanced at the Hermès bag resting on Scarlett’s arm. It was a limited-edition piece Ethan had bought for her, with her name custom-engraved on the leather. The police officer whispered to me: “Three thousand dollars isn’t a massive crime. Just beg your husband. If he drops the charges, you can go home.” I looked at Ethan, then slowly shook my head. “I stole the three thousand dollars. I admit it.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed. His eyes filled with an even deeper, more intense disgust than before. I turned my head away, refusing to explain any further. The officer sighed: “Mrs. Vance, how about this? If you return the three thousand dollars right now, we can handle this with leniency.” “I can’t return it,” I said, staring out the window. “The money has already been paid to the hospital for my son’s surgery.” I looked calmly at the officer and then at Ethan: “I will take full responsibility for what I did.” Ethan’s frown deepened. Scarlett spoke up: “Chloe, you were the one who committed a crime in the first place, and now you have this attitude. Aren’t you just breaking Ethan’s heart?” “I don’t care,” I replied flatly. Ethan let out a cold laugh. “As expected, you haven’t changed a bit. Officer, take her away. Three thousand dollars is more than enough to press grand theft charges.” “Mr. Vance, please calm down,” a female officer stepped forward, holding baby Leo’s critical illness notice. Her eyes were red. While the other officers were questioning me, she had been standing to the side, reviewing my baby’s medical records, her face filled with unbearable pity. “I’m a mother too, and I understand your wife’s desperation. Your child’s critical illness notice is right here. Even if there is a misunderstanding between you two, this was an emergency. It shouldn’t be treated as criminal theft.” As she spoke, she urgently tried to hand the notice to Ethan. But in the next second, Ethan snatched it and tore it into shreds. I stared at him in utter shock. I had always known Ethan hated me. He hated me because I raised the price on our wedding day, making him lose face in front of high society. But how could he hate our own child…? I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. Ethan sneered at the female officer: “You don’t know her. On our wedding day, she forged her father’s critical illness notice just like this, blackmailing me for money.” I stared at him, my mind going completely blank. The female officer wanted to say more, but Ethan pulled out a notarized document—our prenuptial agreement. “It is written clearly here. After marriage, our finances are completely separate. There is no marital property. Her taking my money is theft, plain and simple!” The agreement was thrown carelessly in front of my face. This agreement was the condition he had set on our wedding day. To prove to him that I wasn’t a gold digger, I had signed it without hesitation. After our marriage, his billions had absolutely nothing to do with me. And the notary of this agreement was his secretary, Scarlett. The female officer looked at me: “Mrs. Vance, is there anything else you want to say?” I looked at the prenup on the floor and shook my head. The handcuffs were clicked onto my wrists. The male officer said, unable to bear the cruelty: “Mr. Vance, that’s your child after all. A theft charge will leave her with a permanent criminal record. It will ruin your wife’s reputation and traumatize your child for the rest of his life.” Scarlett immediately countered: “If a mother doesn’t set a good example, how can the child grow up to be an honest and upright person?” She glanced at Ethan, then added quickly, “I’m just speaking my mind, Ethan. This is your family matter, after all. You don’t have to listen to me.” Ethan looked at her, then turned to the police: “Please handle this strictly according to the law.” I kept my head down, refusing to say a word. As I walked past Ethan, the female officer tried one last time: “Mr. Vance, it will take some time to process the booking. If you regret this, you can still drop the charges before dawn.” Ethan said nothing. He watched me get into the police car, his expression unreadable. I sat in the cold cell of the police station all night. I never received Ethan’s notice to drop the charges. The female officer looked at me and sighed. I smiled bitterly and lowered my head.

During the entire interrogation process, I did not say a single word in my defense. Stealing the money. Saving my child. That was my motive. And that was my crime. I was locked up in the detention center for fifteen days. When I was released, nobody was there to pick me up. I walked all the way back to the mansion on foot. Ethan and Scarlett were sitting in the living room. Ethan held a heavy leather whip in his hand. He looked at me coldly: “As my wife, you actually committed theft. I must punish you so you learn your lesson.” My face remained blank. I had known about the Vance family’s strict traditions before I married him. Back then, to stop Ethan from marrying a poor girl like me, his mother had whipped me a hundred times. I loved Ethan so much back then that I actually endured it. His mother had never expected me to survive. Afterward, Ethan had held me close, crying, swearing he would marry me and love me for the rest of his life. Now, seeing this same man holding the whip himself, ready to strike me, I laughed at my own foolishness. It didn’t matter. My baby was alive. What did a few lashes matter? Ethan’s brow furrowed. Seconds passed. He still didn’t get the tearful begging and pleas for forgiveness he expected from me. He handed the whip to Scarlett: “Scarlett has been interning with me since she graduated. She’s like a sister to me. She will administer this punishment on behalf of the Vance family.” I froze. The whip was already in Scarlett’s hand. According to the Vance family rules, the punisher had to be a representative of the family. The whip struck my back fiercely. I lost my balance and fell forward, my hands slamming onto the cold floor. Before I could even scream, the second strike landed. “Ah!” I couldn’t hold back the scream of agony. “One hundred lashes. Not a single one less,” Ethan’s cold voice came from above. “Chloe, you can see your son after the punishment is finished.” Hearing my son’s name, I clenched my hands into fists. When the next strike fell, I bit my lip and didn’t make another sound. “While you’re being beaten, think about what you did wrong. Are you setting a good example for our son?” Ethan turned and walked away. Scarlett put her entire strength into every single blow. When she got tired, she handed the whip to the bodyguard she brought. The sound of the whip slicing through the air lasted for half an hour. “Chloe, have you learned your lesson yet?” Scarlett smiled playfully. I glared at her, refusing to speak. “Looks like you still don’t get it. Keep going!” “That’s already a hundred!” I struggled to stand up. But Scarlett pinned me down hard: “The point of the punishment is to make you admit your mistakes. Clearly, you haven’t. Keep whipping her.” “Let me go! I need to see my baby! Ah!” The whipping continued for another half hour. By the time they finally let me go, I was lying in a pool of blood, barely breathing. “Now, that’s what I call learning a lesson,” Scarlett smirked. I lay on the cold floor alone, shivering as I dragged myself up. I stumbled and crawled towards my baby’s nursery. “Leo…” When I pushed the door open, the sight before me made my blood run cold.

Fifteen days. I didn’t know how my baby had survived these fifteen days. When I left, he was a chubby, healthy little boy. Now, when I held him, his tiny bones poked painfully against my chest. His eyes were deeply sunken, his lips were cracked and bleeding, and dried vomit was crusted all over his clothes. “Where is the nanny? Where is the private nurse I hired for Leo?!” I grabbed the butler, Thomas, like a madwoman. To keep me from touching his money, Ethan made sure his fortune had nothing to do with me. Even the family maids were forbidden from serving me. I had paid for Leo’s private nurse with the money I earned from working part-time. But now, her phone wouldn’t even go through. “The nurse… she was dismissed, ma’am. Miss Scarlett said she was hired with stolen money, so she let her go. She said you should take care of your own child.” I stared at him in utter disbelief. Without a second thought, I scooped Leo up and headed for the door. “Where are you going, ma’am?” “To the hospital!” “Ma’am, Miss Scarlett said Leo cannot be taken anywhere.” “But look at him! He’s dying!” “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Thomas looked at me with pity. “Mr. Vance told us to obey Miss Scarlett’s orders.” “What?!” I looked around. The maids had gathered near the staircase. They pretended to do chores, but their eyes were fixed on me. If I tried to run, they would stop me. “Ma’am, please don’t make things difficult for us.” “Chloe, you just got whipped. Why are you making a scene again?” Scarlett suddenly appeared. Clutching Leo tightly, I gritted my teeth and slammed myself hard into Scarlett. “Ah! Chloe, what are you doing?!” “Miss Scarlett!” The maids rushed to help her, leaving the staircase wide open. I dashed down without hesitation. Suddenly, Scarlett started sobbing loudly: “Ethan, save me!” “Chloe?” Ethan was walking up the stairs. I was blocked once again. “Ethan! Save me!” Scarlett lay on the floor, crying as she reached out to him. “Chloe tried to kill me!” “Scarlett!” Ethan rushed to hold her, then barked at the guards, “Hold Chloe down!” “Let me go! I need to go to the hospital! Let me go!” I thrashed wildly. A dozen bodyguards easily pinned me to the floor. I screamed like a lunatic: “Ethan! She is trying to kill our son! I have to take Leo to the hospital! Tell them to—” Slap! A harsh slap cut me off. Ethan stood over me, looking down coldly: “I was the one who ordered Scarlett to punish you. If you want revenge, come at me!” “Mr. Vance! Your son!” a bodyguard gasped, holding Leo out to him. At first glance, Ethan’s pupils dilated in shock. “Chloe Vance!” Ethan lunged forward and choked me in a frenzy: “Is this how you take care of our child?! “Is this what you meant by ‘stealing money to cure him’?! “You used our own child just to extort money from me! “Is there anything you won’t do?!” My throat was squeezed so tight I couldn’t breathe. I could only make weak, choking sounds. “Thomas!” Ethan roared. “Give the baby to Scarlett!” My eyes widened. Ethan glared at me through gritted teeth: “You don’t deserve to be his mother. “From today on, Scarlett is Leo’s stepmother!” Scarlett’s eyes lit up, quickly hiding her smugness. She took Leo into her arms with a look of fake concern. “Ethan! Don’t give him to her! Give him back to me! Give Leo back!!” “Lock her in the basement!” Ethan growled. “No water for three days! Let her stay there until she realizes our child is not her cash cow!” Scarlett held Leo, her eyes red: “Don’t worry, Chloe. I’ll take good care of Leo for you.” “Ethan! No—ah!” A bodyguard shoved me down into the dark basement. The heavy door slammed shut, plunging me into complete darkness.

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The year Xavier Knight returned to the country, he had become a world-renowned billionaire. But everyone in New York’s elite circle knew he hated me to the bone. Three years ago, when his illness was at its worst, I took ten million dollars from his biggest rival, slapped him in public, and told him to get the hell out of my life. So when we met again, he used his power to force me into becoming his on-call secret mistress. He would sit in his VIP booth, sipping champagne and sneering as he watched me strip-dance at private parties just to make a few bucks from wealthy investors. “Eva, you abandoned me for money back then. Now, your pathetic body is only fit to crawl and beg for my pocket change.” That same night, he threw his engagement invitation to another wealthy heiress right in my face. I numbly wiped the blood from my forehead where the sharp edge of the card had cut me, and slowly picked it up. He thought I would throw away my remaining dignity and beg him to stay, just like I always did. But he didn’t know that I was running out of time. I had spent every single penny of that ten million dollars on his medical bills back then. And my right ear had been beaten to complete deafness years ago when I shielded him from a mob. Now, I was dying.

The blood from my forehead dripped down my eyelashes, staining the gold-trimmed red invitation. “Eva, the day after tomorrow is my engagement party with Melody.” “If you want to come and beg for some leftovers, I won’t stop you.” Xavier looked down at me from his height, his eyes filled with pure disgust. My right ear was ringing constantly. Only my left ear could barely catch his words. Melody was my sister—the biological, pampered daughter of the Sinclair family. While I was just a walking medical backup, adopted from an orphanage solely to keep her alive whenever her failing organs needed a match. “Silent?” Xavier ground the sole of his leather shoe onto my fingers. The pain shot straight to my heart, making me tremble violently. He bent down, pinching my chin with disgust, forcing me to look up. “You were so loud when you took the money and slapped me. What happened?” “Are you mute now?” “Or do you think you didn’t make enough from dancing tonight, so you’re playing hard to get again?” I used every ounce of my strength to pull my hand out from under his shoe. “You worry too much, Xavier.” “I’ll take the invitation. I wish you two… a lifetime of happiness.” He visibly froze. He probably didn’t expect me to be this calm. In the six months since we reunited, I had let him humiliate me like a dog just to pay off the massive debts I owed to the loan sharks. I had even knelt and bowed to the floor in public just for the thousands of dollars he carelessly tossed at me. He thought I would throw a fit, crying and begging him not to marry someone else. But he didn’t know that thanks to his cruel “generosity,” my debts were finally paid off. And just this morning, I had received my diagnosis: terminal brain cancer. The doctor said the blood clot in my brain was pressing against my nerves. I had two months left, at most. That clot was formed three years ago, when his rival pinned me against a concrete wall and beat my head repeatedly with a metal pipe. My right ear had gone completely deaf that night, too. But now, telling him would change nothing. “Eva, you’d better not play any tricks on me.” Xavier shoved my face away and aggressively wiped his hands with a wet wipe, as if he had touched something filthy. “A gold-digger like you doesn’t even deserve to be compared to a single hair on Melody’s head.” He threw the dirty wet wipe in my face and stormed out of the VIP room. The moment the door slammed shut, I collapsed onto the freezing floor. I was so tired. My hearing aid had been knocked out when he threw the invitation, rolling away into some dark corner. Just like me, forgotten by the world. Right then, the door opened again. Melody walked in, wearing a stunning designer gown. She looked down at me on the floor and giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh, Eva. Look at you. How pathetic.” She knelt down and lowered her voice. “Eva, haven’t you always wondered how Xavier managed to get that massive investment to launch his business abroad so easily back then?” I looked up at her blankly. “Because I intercepted the money you got for him and gave it to him under my own name.” Melody’s smile grew wider. “You were beaten half to death by the casino loan sharks just to pay his medical bills.” “And that ten million you sacrificed your life for? It became the very reason he hates you.” “Thanks for paving the way for me, Eva.” “Now, he’s all mine.”

I looked at Melody’s smug face, but I couldn’t even bring myself to be angry. What was the point of arguing anymore? It had been three years. If Xavier had trusted me even for a second, he would have checked the hospital payment records. Or he would have looked into why I was being hunted by loan sharks right after he left. But he never did. He only believed what he saw. He only believed that I took his rival’s check, slapped him, and told him to get lost. “Melody.” I supported myself against the wall and stood up, my head spinning. “He’s yours. Keep him.” My calmness made Melody’s face twitch. Just as she was about to snap, footsteps echoed in the hallway. “Melody, are you done?” Xavier pushed the door open and walked in. Melody’s eyes instantly welled with tears, and she deliberately threw herself toward the glass coffee table nearby. “Ah!” Her wrist scraped against the sharp edge of the table, leaving a bright red scratch. “Eva, why did you push me? I just wanted to make sure you got the invitation…” Xavier rushed over instantly, shielding Melody in his arms. He glared at me, his eyes filled with pure rage. “Eva, do you have a death wish?” Despite the sharp ringing in my ears, I found the situation utterly ridiculous. “I didn’t push her.” Xavier didn’t hesitate to strike my face. The force of his slap sent me crashing to the floor, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. My fragile brain nerves throbbed in excruciating pain, and my vision began to turn black. “That was to teach you some manners.” Xavier looked at me as if I were a piece of trash. “You threw me away like a dog when I was sick just for some cash, and now you’re jealous enough to hurt your own sister.” “Eva, you’re not just pathetic. You’re evil.” My left ear began to ring violently, too. The world instantly fell into dead silence. I saw his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a single word he was saying. As it turned out, complete silence wasn’t scary. It was actually quite peaceful. Melody sobbed in his arms, and he gently picked her up, looking at her with deep worry. Before leaving, he threw a credit card onto my body. “There’s fifty thousand dollars in there. Consider this the final payoff to end whatever we had.” “Get out of New York and never show your face in front of Melody again. Otherwise, I have a thousand ways to make your life a living hell.” Money. It was always about money. I wiped the blood from my lip and slowly picked up the card. The contempt in Xavier’s eyes deepened as he carried Melody out of the room. The next day, I went back to the Sinclair estate. I only wanted to pack a few of my old clothes before checking myself into a quiet hospice care facility in the suburbs to spend my remaining days. As soon as I walked in, I heard Mrs. Sinclair talking on the phone in the living room, her voice dripping with flattery and joy. “Yes, yes, Melody and Xavier are getting engaged the day after tomorrow. You must come!” When she hung up and saw me, her smile instantly vanished. “What are you doing back here, you curse? Haven’t you embarrassed us enough?” Mrs. Sinclair snatched my bag and dumped everything onto the floor. A few faded old shirts fell out, along with an unlabeled bottle of painkillers. She poked my forehead aggressively with her finger and spat out insults. “You disgraced this family for a few dirty bucks back then!” “Now that Xavier is incredibly rich, you shamelessly crawl back to be his mistress!” “How did I give birth to a shameless whore like you!” “Why can’t you be more like your sister and behave yourself!” I numbly knelt down to pick up my clothes. Indeed, why couldn’t I be Melody? Why was it that despite being daughters of the same household, she was pampered like a princess while I was born only to provide bone marrow for her? Just as I reached for my pill bottle, Mrs. Sinclair’s high heel stomped heavily onto the back of my hand.

“Did you hear me talking to you? Are you trying to ruin your sister’s engagement party?” Her sharp heel ground viciously into my knuckles. My left ear had recovered a tiny bit of hearing, just in time to catch her shrill curses. “Mom, let it go.” Melody walked down the stairs, holding Xavier’s arm. They really were inseparable now. Melody walked over and gently pulled Mrs. Sinclair back, acting like a sweet, understanding angel. “Eva hasn’t had it easy lately. Even though she has a bad reputation for drinking and strip-dancing for men at VIP lounges, she’s just trying to survive.” When Xavier heard “drinking and strip-dancing,” his expression darkened. He was the one who had forced me to do those things. “Take your trash and get out.” Ignoring the blood dripping from the back of my hand, I grabbed my clothes and the pill bottle, turning to leave. Just as I reached the foyer, a sudden, blinding headache struck. It felt as though someone were drilling into my brain with a power tool. My knees buckled, and I crashed heavily to the floor. “Playing victim again?” Mrs. Sinclair sneered. “Eva, you’ve been playing this tragic act for twenty years. Aren’t you tired of it?” A metallic taste rose in my throat, and I bit my lip hard. I couldn’t throw up. I couldn’t spit blood in front of them. I forced myself to swallow the blood and used the doorframe to pull myself up. “I won’t bother you anymore.” I pushed the door open and stumbled out into the pouring rain. The cold wind and freezing rain beat against my body, chilling me to the bone. Once I ran past the gates of the wealthy estate, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I leaned against a trash can on the curb and threw up a massive pool of blood. The dark red blood mixed with the rainwater, looking terrifying on the wet concrete. I leaned against the brick wall, gasping for breath, and took out my phone. I transferred all the money I had saved over the past three years—including the fifty thousand dollars Xavier had thrown at me—to the director of the orphanage who had taken care of me when I was a child. “Director, please use this money for the kids. I’m going on a long trip, and I don’t think I’ll be coming back.” After sending the message, I threw my phone into the trash can. There was nothing left for me in this city. I found a cheap, remote motel and spent my days swallowing handfuls of cheap painkillers. My body decayed rapidly. My vision began to blur, my hearing completely vanished, and my world turned into a dark, silent void. It hurt. It hurt so much. Every night, I would writhe in agony on the cold motel floor. I dug my fingernails deep into my own flesh until they bled, using the sharp physical pain just to keep myself conscious. Eventually, I didn’t even have the strength to crawl to the sink for a cup of water. I knew my end was near. On the last day of my life, I dreamed of Xavier from three years ago. Back then, he wasn’t this cold and heartless. He was terribly sick, lying in our tiny rented basement, holding my hand tightly as he said: “Eva, once I get better, I’ll marry you.” “I’ll make sure you’re the happiest girl in New York.” Back then, I smiled like a fool. For those words, I willingly went to beg his dangerous, mob-connected rival. I let dozens of men pin me down, break my ribs, beat me until my ear bled, and force me to sign a massive high-interest loan. But I got the ten million dollars that saved his life. I went back to him covered in blood. To make sure he would focus on his treatment without worrying about me, I threw the money in his face and slapped him hard. “Xavier, you’re a useless cripple. I’m done playing house with you.” His eyes at that moment looked as desperate and broken as a dying animal. When I woke up from the dream, my body was twitching with pain. In the pitch black, I fumbled around and grabbed a small metal box from the nightstand. Inside was a blood-stained hospital critical condition notice from three years ago, and the loan contract that had long been paid off. I hugged the metal box tightly against my chest, as if holding onto my ridiculous, short life. If there is a next life, Xavier… I hope I never meet you again.

Today was the day of Xavier and Melody’s engagement party. In the grand ballroom of New York’s most luxurious five-star hotel, Mrs. Sinclair, dressed in an expensive designer gown, moved gracefully among the wealthy guests, basking in their compliments. “Mrs. Sinclair, you are so blessed. Melody is marrying Mr. Knight. She’s going to live like a queen for the rest of her life.” “Oh, thank you. Melody has always been a sweet girl, and Xavier is a very loyal man.” Mrs. Sinclair couldn’t stop smiling. Xavier stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo and holding a glass of champagne. He stared out at the gloomy sky, feeling an inexplicable sense of anxiety. His eyelid had been twitching all morning. Since dawn, he had been waiting for Eva to call him. He knew Eva too well. That woman would do anything for money. She had no dignity left. On an occasion like this, she would definitely show up to make a scene, or kneel before him to beg for money. To prevent that, he had specifically hired a dozen extra security guards to patrol the entrance. If she dared to show up, he would crush her remaining self-respect right in front of New York’s high society. But the ceremony was about to start, and there was still no sign of Eva at the gates. “Xavier, what are you looking at?” Melody, dressed in a gorgeous white gown, walked over and sweetly wrapped her arms around his. Xavier snapped out of his thoughts, hiding his impatience. “Nothing.” “Are you waiting for Eva?” Melody pouted, her voice dripping with fake sadness. “Eva is so petty. I even sent her an invitation myself.” “Even if she’s mad at me, she shouldn’t play missing on such an important day.” Mrs. Sinclair walked over and let out a cold snort. “It’s better if she doesn’t show up!” “We don’t need her filthy, pathetic presence ruining our day!” “Why even mention that jinx on such a happy occasion?” Xavier tightened his grip on his champagne glass. Yes, it was better if she didn’t show up. But why did his chest feel so empty, as if a vital piece of his heart had been ripped out? The romantic music began to play, and the host took the stage to announce the start of the ceremony. Xavier set down his glass and took Melody’s hand. Right then, the heavy double doors of the ballroom were slammed open. Two police officers in uniform walked in, followed by a couple of forensic medical examiners in white coats. The noisy ballroom instantly fell silent. Everyone turned their eyes to the door. Xavier frowned, the uneasy feeling in his chest suddenly magnifying a hundred times. The officers walked straight to the stage, their eyes sweeping over the crowd before landing on Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair. “Are you the family of Eva Sinclair?” Mrs. Sinclair’s smile froze, and she immediately spat out in irritation: “What trouble did that useless girl cause this time?” “Officer, we kicked her out of our house a long time ago. Whatever she did has absolutely nothing to do with the Sinclair family!” Xavier let go of Melody’s hand and took a step forward, his voice suddenly tightening. “What happened to her?” The leading officer pulled out a transparent evidence bag. Inside was a rusted, blood-stained metal box and a broken, cheap hearing aid. “We found the body of Ms. Eva Sinclair in a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city.” “According to the preliminary forensic report, she passed away yesterday at approximately 2:00 AM. The cause of death was multiple organ failure caused by a severe, untreated blood clot in her brain.” “We couldn’t reach her emergency contact, so we had to trace her family registry to find you.”

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At the scene of the car crash, I pooled every last drop of my strength to beg my daughter for help. But she stepped right on my bleeding hand, walking past me to save her biological mother, who only had a few minor scratches. Shivering from the coldness of her betrayal, I choked out a question, asking her why. She just sneered, her eyes dripping with contempt: “Did you really think I didn’t know? You only adopted me to use me for your social status. My real mother is a billionaire. And you? You’re just a stepping stone on my way to the top.” I died in that cold street, consumed by hatred, while she went on to win fame and fortune, living the luxurious life of an heiress she had always dreamed of. But when I opened my eyes again, I had traveled back in time—right before the fatal crash. This time, I’m going to personally hand you back to them, Chloe. The excruciating pain of being crushed to death by a runaway truck still seemed to linger on my skin. The scream was still trapped in my throat. I gasped, my eyes flying open as I frantically took in my surroundings. I was in my own bedroom. Was I really dead? Was this the afterlife? My heart hammered against my ribs as I threw off the blanket, ready to put my shoes on and investigate. Suddenly, a haughty, annoyed voice drifted in from the doorway: “Jane, what is wrong with you? Why are you sleeping so late? I just got back from school and there’s no food on the table. I’m starving!” The face of the speaker flashed in my mind, and my fingers tightened around the bedsheets until my knuckles turned white. It was Chloe. Memories of the crash rushed back. When the truck hit us, she didn’t call 911 for me. She didn’t try to pull me out of the wreckage. Instead, she dragged her biological father—who only had a few scratches—away from the scene, leaving me to bleed out and die. The sheer anger in my chest was almost impossible to control. Seeing that I didn’t reply, she walked in, rolling her eyes: “Jane, are you listening to me? I’m talking to you!” I forced my voice to remain steady: “What year is it, Chloe?” Chloe gave me a weird, judgmental look: “Did you sleep your brain away? It’s 2025!” Rebirth. I actually came back. That realization snapped me back to reality. For the first time, I actually looked at this girl. I had raised her since she was three years old. Even at three, she knew I wasn’t her biological mother. No matter how much love, warmth, and patience I gave her, she refused to call me “Mom.” It was always just “Jane.” She never accepted me, but she certainly never hesitated to spend my money and leech off my resources. She had even used my position as the Chief of Surgery at the city’s top hospital to secretly dig into her biological parents’ background. It turned out she had never wanted to be by my side. She only tolerated me because of my high social status and wealth. The second she found out her biological parents were billionaire entrepreneurs who could offer her an even more lavish lifestyle, she checked out. I had no doubt that if her biological parents had been blue-collar workers, she would have pretended they didn’t exist. I still remembered my dying moments, the sheer desperation as I screamed at her with my last breath: “Chloe! I raised you for years! I gave you everything! How can you be so heartless?!” Chloe had stopped, looking back at me with a cold, disgusted expression: “You? You’re just a glorified doctor, an employee. How can you compare to my billionaire parents? If it weren’t for you holding me back, I would have been living the life of a trust-fund heiress long ago! Stop blocking my path to a better life!” With that, she walked away, leaving me with nothing but her cold, retreating back. Thinking of this, my heart ached again. Even though she had always been rude, demanding, and bratty, I had foolishly believed that a human heart wasn’t made of stone. I thought if I kept loving her, she would eventually accept me. But reality had slapped me hard in the face. No matter how hard I tried, she was a viper that could never be warmed. I took a deep breath, and a bright smile broke across my face. I waved her over to the bed: “Chloe, do you want to know who your biological parents are?” Since she wanted to go back to them so badly, why should I risk my life to stop her? But were her biological parents really the loving, perfect saviors she imagined them to be? Maybe not.

Hearing my question, a flicker of confusion crossed Chloe’s face. In this house, her adoption was a taboo subject. Even though we both knew she wasn’t mine, neither of us ever brought it up. Yet today, I was the one bringing it up. Her expression practically screamed, *Did you lose your mind?* But she couldn’t hide her excitement. If her biological parents were incredibly rich and powerful, her future would be set. She looked at me, pretending to be sweet: “Jane, you know that after all these years, I’ve always seen you as my real mom.” “Even though I’ve always wanted to know where I came from, it was just to get some closure. Don’t worry, you’ll always be number one in my heart.” Listening to her fake, hypocritical words, I had to hold back a cold laugh. She was just trying to play nice to get the information out of me. Once she had it, she would kick me to the curb without a second thought. To have such a scheming mind at such a young age—I really had been blind. I pulled up an article on my phone and slid it across the mattress toward her: “This conglomerate is one of the top enterprises in the country. The CEO, Richard Sterling, is your long-lost biological father.” Chloe froze. She stared at the screen, her eyes wide as she looked at the massive corporate headquarters shown in the article. A few seconds later, she snatched the phone wildly, scrolling down until she saw the Chairman’s headshot. Sure enough, she shared some striking physical resemblances with him. She instantly fell into a state of hysterical joy: “I knew it! I knew someone as beautiful and smart as me couldn’t have come from ordinary people!” Looking at her, I didn’t see the joy of a child finding her lost family. I only saw greed, lust for power, and money. I shook my head slightly. She was still too young, only seeing the glittering surface without realizing the dark truth behind it. Once the initial shock wore off, she didn’t even bother to hide her disdain for me anymore. She tossed my phone back onto the bed. “You knew who they were this whole time? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Were you trying to keep me here? Did you steal me from them in the first place?!” Her sudden accusation actually made me laugh out loud. I had legally adopted her with flawless paperwork. How did I suddenly become a kidnapper? I looked her dead in the eye: “Now you have your answer, and you seem thrilled with who your parents are. Why are you still standing in my room? Do you want to keep pretending we have a loving mother-daughter relationship?” Chloe rolled her eyes at me, then stuck her palm out: “Give me money. I need to go find them.” I seriously wondered what was inside her brain. “I gave you a massive allowance every month. Where did all that money go?” She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively: “That pocket change? What was I supposed to do with that? If you wanted to raise a billionaire’s child, you should have looked in the mirror first. Hurry up and give me cash, or I’ll tell my parents you abused me when I go back!” I stood up from the bed, took a ten-dollar bill from my nightstand, and slapped it right onto her face. “That’s all the money you’re getting from me. Given our ‘bond,’ even this is too much. Now get out of my house. Looking at you makes me sick.” I walked back into my room and slammed the door shut. Soon, the sound of her stomping footsteps faded from the hallway. *Chloe, your nightmare is about to begin.

That night, while I was in bed with a face mask on, reading a book, my best friend, Sarah, called me in a panic. “Jane! How can you be doing skincare right now? Turn on the TV, quick!” “Chloe is on the news! She’s crying on camera with her biological parents! God, anyone watching would think you kept her in a basement!” Intrigued, I turned on the TV. Sure enough, the screen showed Chloe hugging her chubby, middle-aged biological father. She was blinking rapidly, trying to squeeze out a few tears for the camera. “All these years away from my parents, I never gave up hope. I searched everywhere, trying every channel to find them.” “And finally, heaven answered my prayers. I’m back where I belong!” The reporter eagerly held out the microphone: “Miss Sterling, today is such a historic day for your family. Why isn’t your adoptive mother here?” “Is there tension between you? How does she feel about you finding your real family?” Chloe lied without blinking: “I don’t have an adoptive father, just a very ordinary adoptive mother.” “She’s never seen such a grand lifestyle, so she was too embarrassed to show her face today. I think she feels guilty for not being able to provide for me all these years.” “But I don’t blame her. In fact, I’m grateful to her.” My mouth twitched. Chloe’s words sounded polite, but they were actually a nasty dig, painting me as a poor, low-class woman who was too intimidated to step into high society. It was a clever play to make herself look elegant, mature, and forgiving. As Sarah ranted in my ear, my eyes remained glued to the interaction between Chloe and her parents. Her parents didn’t look like they had just found their long-lost daughter. Instead, they kept pushing her toward the cameras, making sure the lenses were focused on her pretty face. It felt like they were showing off a high-quality product rather than a child. But Chloe, blinded by her sudden wealth, didn’t notice anything wrong. She smiled and played along perfectly, her smile looking more like a brown-nosing employee trying to please her bosses rather than a girl reuniting with her parents. Her father even bragged to the reporters: “My daughter is only a teenager. She is young, fresh, beautiful, and attends an elite private school!” The phrasing made my skin crawl. What kind of father describes his own daughter as “fresh”? And if they loved her so much, why didn’t they even get her age right? A flash of awkwardness crossed Chloe’s face, but she quickly covered it up with a laugh: “My parents are just too excited. They’re even getting my age mixed up! I think I’ll have to punish them by making them go jogging with me tonight!” She reached out to grab her mother’s hand, trying to lean her head on her shoulder. But Eleanor, her mother, instinctively stepped back, pulling her hand away. For a second, both of their expressions stiffened. Though Eleanor quickly recovered and claimed she just wasn’t used to public displays of affection, it was obvious to anyone paying attention that there was zero bond between them. After the interview aired, a wave of online hate was directed at me. Netizens called me an irresponsible, neglectful adoptive mother, while praising Chloe for being sweet and beautiful. I didn’t care. Because I knew Chloe’s golden days were already numbered.

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On my wedding day, a video of a girl about to commit suicide popped up on the big screen. And just like that, my groom ran out on me. That girl was his “white moonlight”—his precious ex. He said, “Chloe, we can have our wedding anytime, but her life is on the line.” Later, he literally cried his eyes out, begging me: “Baby, please give me another chance.” “Baby? You should call me Aunt Chloe!” Under the dazzling spotlights, I held my father’s arm, dragging the long train of my white wedding gown as I walked slowly onto the stage. At that moment, I was still fantasizing about our beautiful future together. But just as the officiant was about to start the vows, a girl suddenly appeared on the giant projector screen. “Ethan, I regret it. Please don’t leave me. Without you, my life has no meaning.” Gasps echoed through the crowd. In the video, the girl held a razor blade and slashed her own wrist. Ethan immediately let go of my hand. He turned to leave. “Ethan?” My eyes welled with tears as I called out to him. I didn’t want him to abandon me for another woman. “Chloe, we can have our wedding anytime, but her life is on the line.” With that, he left me standing there, running out of the venue without even looking back. In this gorgeous, lavish hall, I had become a laughingstock. I looked at the whispering guests below the stage. I snatched the microphone from the host. “Is there anyone in this room willing to marry me today?” I was probably losing my mind. Actually, no—I was just driven mad by Ethan’s sheer disrespect. I have the looks, the body, and a degree from a top-tier Ivy League business school. Why on earth should I act like he was my only choice? Our relationship wasn’t some epic love story. Our families had been doing business together for years and wanted to merge our empires through us. When I first met Ethan, I thought he was exactly my type. Six months later, he asked me out, and we naturally transitioned into a relationship. The entire hall fell dead silent. My parents, terrified that I was having a breakdown, rushed up to pull me back. I turned my head and noticed a devastatingly handsome man sitting in the corner, staring at me with cold, piercing eyes. “Damian Vance-Cole, would you marry me? Right now, today…” I shook off my parents’ hands, holding the mic tight as I walked toward him. He was Ethan’s young uncle. Though he was only five years older than me, he had already taken complete control of the Cole Group. The silence in the room grew almost suffocating. I stood tall, biting my lip as I locked eyes with Damian. Just when everyone was waiting to see me humiliate myself, Damian stood up. He walked over and took the microphone from my hand. “Miss Vance, it would be my honor. Let’s spend the rest of our lives together.” The moment the words left his mouth, the crowd went wild with disbelief. The Miller family, embarrassed out of their minds, spat out some angry words and stormed out of the hall. The rest of the wedding was a chaotic blur. My family wrapped things up in utter awkwardness. That night, out of pure spite, I went home with Damian. But the second we stepped into his mansion, regret washed over me. I barely even knew him. Sensing my discomfort, Damian told me I could have the master bedroom while he took the guest room. “Wait…” I called out to him. I wanted to explain my impulsive behavior. Damian seemed to understand. He gently patted my head and told me not to overthink it. Since we hadn’t signed the marriage papers yet, today was just a show. If I wanted to back out later, I could just tell him. I was stunned. Why didn’t he care about his own reputation? Why did he help me? All he said was that he would give me an answer in a month, and then he left. A million questions kept me awake all night. My brain kept replaying everything that had happened with Ethan. The next morning, Damian had already left for work. He left a note on the table. *I might be a bit late tonight. If you’re bored, feel free to visit your parents. I’ll pick you up after work.* He wrote his phone number at the bottom. For the first time, I felt like this marriage wasn’t such a bad idea after all. I took a cab back to my parents’ house. As soon as I walked in, I saw the anger on their faces. I thought they were mad at me for going home with Damian. But then I found out the Millers were actually using my “sudden marriage” as an excuse to demand compensation for their losses. They were even threatening to pull out of our business partnerships. So, Ethan was allowed to run off to save his precious ex, but I wasn’t allowed to find someone else? I talked to my dad and decided we should cut all ties with the Millers. In all our years of partnership, they were always the ones leeching off us anyway.

When the Millers realized we were actually serious about cutting them off, they panicked. That was when Ethan finally showed up after vanishing for days. “Chloe, you can hit me, you can scream at me, just don’t ignore me.” Seeing that I wasn’t responding, Ethan started playing the victim, reaching out to grab me. He kept pestering me, trying to block my path. I dodged him twice. “Chloe, you weren’t like this before. You wouldn’t even hurt an ant, yet a girl’s life was on the line! I know you can understand why I had to go, right?” Looking at him, I felt physically sick. My friends had already snapchatted me the truth. Ethan had spent the last few days constantly by Hailey’s side. If my father hadn’t threatened to cancel our contracts, I bet I wouldn’t have seen Ethan for the rest of my life. “Baby, give me another chance. I promise our next wedding will be way bigger and better.” Ethan grabbed my wrist, squeezing it tightly. “Baby? According to family ranking, you should be calling me Aunt Chloe.” I couldn’t shake him off, and my anger was boiling over. He abandoned me in front of everyone, and now he wanted forgiveness? Did he think I was some kind of saint? “Stop playing around. Damian is not a good guy. Don’t do this just to spite me.” Before he could finish, his phone started buzzing crazily in his pocket. I caught a glimpse of the caller ID. It was Hailey. He let go of me, mumbled that he would come back tomorrow, and rushed off to his car before I could even reply. I let out a cold laugh. That was the second time he had abandoned me for that woman. Originally, I had taken a six-month sabbatical for our honeymoon. Now, that was obviously off the table. Since our “wedding,” Damian had given me total freedom. He shared his schedule with me every single day and never pried into what I was doing. Whatever I wanted to do, he backed me up 100%. I was starting to think Damian was actually a great catch. A week later, I went back to work. The moment I sat down, the receptionist called, saying a Mr. Miller had sent a bouquet of flowers and asked if she should bring them up. I told her to reject any deliveries from him and never let him into the building again. But I underestimated how thick-skinned Ethan was. He actually went to the parking garage to corner me. Seeing him now only made me feel disgusted. There’s a saying that comparison is the thief of joy, but in this case, comparing Ethan to Damian only proved that Damian was lightyears better. “Chloe, how long are you going to keep this silent treatment up? Hailey and I are just friends. If your friend was in danger, would you just stand by and watch?” Ethan chased after me, desperately trying to explain. I had already blocked his number and Snapchat. “What does that have to do with me?” I scoffed. What was he so frantic about? “You’re the woman I want to spend my life with! I just want you to understand me, not let these little misunderstandings ruin us.” Little misunderstandings? To him, me being publicly humiliated at my own wedding was a “little thing”? His running off to his ex was a “misunderstanding”? Our values were so misaligned we couldn’t even speak the same language. Suddenly, Damian’s sleek black car pulled up right in front of us. Ethan instinctively took two steps back. I immediately hopped into the passenger seat, eager to escape. At first, I wanted to end things with Ethan gracefully, but I realized the Miller family had absolutely no shame. He literally camped outside my office building every day and kept calling me from burner numbers. Did he do it out of love? No. He just realized his family was losing the Vance family cash cow. “Do you need me to handle this?” Damian asked. This situation had given Damian a perfect excuse to drive me to work every day. But I felt bad dragging him into my mess. “No, it’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

Everyone thought I was just throwing a tantrum and waiting for the day I’d crawl back to Ethan. But I knew there was absolutely no turning back. Damian didn’t press the issue. He just patted my head—a gesture that had seemingly become his habit. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; I had simply told him I wanted to handle it myself. He just told me that if things got messy, he’d be there to clean up the aftermath. “Are you Chloe?” I was in the breakroom getting water when a girl in a pastel dress appeared in front of me. I recognized her instantly. It was Hailey. “Can I help you?” I had no intention of inviting her into my office. Suddenly, with a loud *thud*, Hailey dropped straight to her knees in front of me. It was lunchtime, and the breakroom was packed. The moment she fell, a crowd immediately gathered to watch the drama. “Chloe, it’s all my fault! Please, I beg you, don’t punish Ethan!” She looked like a normal person, so why was she talking like a lunatic? Hailey’s eyes were red, brimming with tears. Classic damsel-in-distress act. The onlookers started whispering among themselves. “Ethan and I could have been happy… if only his family didn’t force him into this business marriage…” Ah, I got it. She was blaming me for using my family’s wealth to tear them apart. “Are you done?” Even if I spoke plain English, she probably wouldn’t choose to understand. I didn’t want to waste my time on her. Let her say whatever she wanted; I had zero interest in Ethan anyway. In that very moment, I realized I had never actually loved Ethan that much. I had just thought we were a good match for marriage. I didn’t know what Hailey told Ethan, but the very next day, he came barging into my office to interrogate me. “Chloe, I already told you Hailey and I are just friends! Why did you have to humiliate her like that?” Wow. I couldn’t tell if Ethan was just a massive jerk or if Hailey was just a master manipulator. Yesterday’s drama had already been filmed by my colleagues and posted on Snapchat. Besides, I had made it clear multiple times that I was married now. “Chloe, I know you still love me. I really love you too. Can we please just give each other another chance?” His constant nagging was giving me a massive headache. Before I could react, Ethan lunged forward and locked me in a tight embrace. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t break free. “I know you don’t love Damian. You’re just using him to make me jealous. I don’t believe you could change your mind in just a few days!” I was still fighting to push him off. Ethan held me tighter, raising his voice. “Yes! I don’t love Damian! So what? I used him just to show you that I, Chloe Vance, don’t need you!” The second those words left my mouth, I froze. I looked past Ethan’s shoulder and saw Damian standing in the doorway. My heart sank. I had been set up. Ethan must have seen Damian coming and pulled this stunt on purpose. So, Damian had heard everything? He heard me say I didn’t love him and was just using him? For some reason, a wave of sheer panic rushed through me. “Damian!” The moment Damian turned around to leave, I used every ounce of my strength to shove Ethan away and ran after him. Gosh, I didn’t think Damian could be this petty. I didn’t see him for the next three days. Out of a strange sense of guilt, I actually initiated a call to his phone. It rang for a long time before going to voicemail. It seemed he was truly furious. Staring at my phone, I felt so childish. I decided I would wait for him to come home tonight and talk things out. But when I woke up the next morning, it was clear Damian was actively avoiding me. I decided to go to his company. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but without an appointment, I cannot let you up,” the receptionist said, her eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt.

I had already told her who I was, but she clearly didn’t care. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” Just as I was debating whether to call Damian again, Ethan suddenly appeared in the lobby of the Cole Group. I didn’t even bother giving him a glance. But men are truly pathetic—the colder you are, the harder they cling. “Chloe, you’re my wife. What is this messy affair you’re having with my uncle?” Ethan said loudly. I whipped my head around, staring at him in shock. “Wow, this girl is shameless. Jumping between Mr. Cole and his nephew?” “Exactly. Why would Mr. Cole want someone so loose?” Hearing the whispers from the employees nearby, I finally understood Ethan’s game. He was trying to ruin my reputation. “Chloe, my uncle might have power and money, but he can’t give you the love you actually want,” Ethan said, looking incredibly devoted. He was successfully painting me as a gold-digging heartbreaker who played with his feelings. He was humiliating himself just to drag me down with him. “Wow, the heir to the Miller family is so naive. Why is he begging a girl like that?” “I know, right? Why do the loyal guys always get hurt?” This was exactly what Ethan wanted. To throw dirt all over my name. But even if my reputation was dragged through the mud, I would never, ever go back to him. “What makes me so much worse than Damian?” Ethan snapped, visibly angered by my cold demeanor. He couldn’t understand why I still wouldn’t bow down to him. “What makes you worse? For starters, Damian doesn’t keep running back to his ex, and he didn’t abandon me at the altar.” My words made Ethan’s face turn pale. The loving, devoted persona he had just built began to crumble. “Chloe, why can’t you just let Hailey go? She already left the city! Why do you keep bringing her up?” Left the city? What a joke. He was probably only saying that to fool the onlookers. “Just come home with me. My uncle will never love you anyway. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” The crowd was swayed by Ethan’s acting again, completely ignoring what I had just said. Ethan stepped forward and grabbed my wrist, trying to drag me out by force. “Touch my woman again, and see what happens.” My other wrist was suddenly caught in a warm, firm grip.

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The day I was crushed to death by a semi-truck, my husband was busy walking his childhood sweetheart to her new job. He wouldn’t even pick up my emergency calls! At the crash site, he wrapped his arm around her, looked at my mangled, bloody body, and said, “I wish it was Chloe who died. Then she’d finally stop annoying me.” Later, my best friend crashed his engagement party to find me, but he turned around and reported my dead body to the police! *Bang!* I felt my soul rip out of my body. Suddenly, a crowd of bystanders swarmed the street. I turned around. Sure enough, there was another “me” lying on the cold asphalt. I desperately tried to throw myself back into my body, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t merge with it. Then the police arrived. They pronounced me dead on the spot. “Chief, I found a phone next to the victim!” “Call her family! Tell them to come and claim the body!” Before I could watch any longer, a strange force suddenly dragged me away. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing right next to Ethan. He was gently helping his childhood sweetheart, Vivian, out of his car. So, while I was being crushed to death, he was with Vivian the entire time. Why could he be so incredibly gentle to her, yet tell me to go die over the phone? “Ethan, you got what you wanted. The moment you hung up on me, I actually died.” Suddenly, Ethan’s phone lit up. But the moment he saw my contact name, he swiped decline without a second thought. “Ethan, pick up the phone! I’ve been in a car crash!” “Pick up, Ethan! I’m dead!” No matter how hysterically I screamed and thrashed beside him, he didn’t react at all. Only then did it hit me. I was just a ghost. No one here could see or hear me, including Ethan… Vivian trembled and threw herself into Ethan’s arms. “Ethan, I’m so scared. There looks like a horrible accident up ahead.” His phone rang again. This time, Ethan shut it off completely, his expression ice-cold. He held Vivian close, looking over at the bloody crash site in the distance, and muttered, “I wish it was Chloe who died. Then she’d finally stop annoying me.” It turned out that after five years together, he hated me this much. He truly wished for my death. I froze. The bitter smile on my face slowly faded, and my heart turned to ash. “You got your wish, Ethan! The person dead in that crash is me! I’ll never bother you again!” I watched the paramedics lift my body into the ambulance. I wanted to go with them, to accompany my physical self on her final journey, but that weird, magnetic pull kept me locked right by Ethan’s side. Actually, when Ethan and I first got married, we were very close. Back then, Ethan was twenty-five, fresh out of college. To secure his grip on Carter Group, he agreed to the family-pressured marriage between the Vance and Carter families. But as the Vance family’s business declined, Ethan’s attitude toward me grew colder by the day. Hoping for a peaceful ending, I had prepared a beautiful dinner yesterday and went to his office to celebrate his birthday with him one last time. But the moment I stepped inside, Ethan grabbed me by the neck and slammed me against the wall. “Chloe, what right do you have to come to my company? Stop acting so pathetic! If my mother hadn’t forced me to marry you, a cheap girl like you wouldn’t even be fit to wipe my shoes!” He let go of me and practically threw me out the door. “I’m giving you one last day. Pack your trash and get out of my house!” Just before the heavy oak door slammed shut, his cold words pierced my heart one last time. “And if you know what’s good for you, sign those divorce papers immediately!” Recalling this, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. I reached up to wipe away tears that could no longer fall. “Ethan, did you know? I already signed the divorce papers yesterday. The doctor told me I have leukemia. I only had a few days left anyway.”

Vivian looked up at Ethan with adoration in her eyes. “Ethan, the traffic is so bad. It looks like we’re going to be late. What should I do? It’s only my second day working at your company. If I’m late, I don’t know what the others will say behind my back!” Ethan replied, “I’m the CEO. Who dares say anything? If you hear even a whisper of gossip, come tell me immediately.” Vivian wrapped her arms tightly around him, beaming. “Ethan, you’re the best!” So, he had hired Vivian at his company. No wonder he was so furious when I showed up yesterday. He was probably terrified my presence would make people realize his precious childhood sweetheart was just a home-wrecker. As my corpse was driven away, traffic slowly cleared. Ethan and Vivian got back into the car. He walked her all the way to her department. Vivian playfully pushed him toward the door, giggling, “Go on, get back to work. No one’s going to bully me. If you stay any longer, people are going to say I only got this job through the back door!” After pushing him out, she waved cutely before shutting the door. But the moment the door closed, her sweet expression vanished. “Chloe Vance…” I heard her mumble my name. I wanted to stay and hear what she was up to, but as Ethan walked away, the invisible rope jerked me violently back to his side. Back in his office, Ethan buried himself in work. His assistant, Leo, knocked and walked in. “Sir, a package was delivered from your house.” As Ethan reached for it, my eyes fell on his ring finger. There was a faint, pale band where his wedding ring used to be. Right. We were getting divorced. What right did I have to care if he took off his ring? Besides, I was dead. Why did I still care? Ethan tore the package open, his face grim. I bet he thought I was playing another game to get his attention. But when the papers slid out and the bold words “Divorce Agreement” met his eyes, his brows furrowed deeply. As he scrolled down and saw that I had requested zero alimony, his face turned incredibly dark. By the time he reached the end and saw my signature, pure rage flared in his eyes. He slammed the papers onto his desk. … Before I could figure out why he was so angry, Vivian walked in unannounced. “Ethan, it’s lunchtime. Let’s get food! Your stomach is sensitive. If you don’t eat on time, you’ll get a terrible stomachache!” Then she noticed the papers scattered on the desk. “Ethan, what’s wrong?” Ethan glanced at the papers, grabbed his suit jacket from his chair, and wrapped his hand around Vivian’s waist. “It’s nothing. Just some trash. I’ll have the janitor throw it away.” Vivian linked her arm with his. “Where are we going to eat?” Ethan said, “Let’s go to Bistro Moderne. It’s your favorite.” My heart felt like it had been struck by a sledgehammer. Bistro Moderne… He had never taken me there. He always told me it was overpriced and overrated. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford it. I just wasn’t worth it to him. I smiled bitterly. As they walked out, I was dragged along behind them like a dog on a leash. Ethan kept his hand intimately on Vivian’s waist as they entered the restaurant. He pulled out her chair like a perfect gentleman and ordered all her favorite dishes. “Ethan, you actually remember what I like!”

Vivian smiled, and Ethan said softly, “Of course I do. But you have a sore throat today, so we’re keeping it bland.” So, he did know how to care for someone with a throat issue. Then why, when I had severe laryngitis last year, did he order a table full of spicy food and tell me to stop being dramatic and starve if I didn’t want to eat? He wasn’t incapable of caring. He just didn’t care about me. “Ethan, you’re so sweet. Chloe must be so happy to be married to you.” Vivian’s eyes suddenly dimmed. “I missed your wedding because I was sent abroad for therapy. I want to toast to you and Chloe with this water. I hope you two grow old together.” Ha. Happy? The only person who got to experience his kindness was her. And besides, I was already dead. How could we grow old together? “Why bring up an outsider during lunch? It ruins my appetite,” Ethan said coldly. Even though I was dead, and even though I had signed those papers, hearing him call me an “outsider” still sent a sharp pang through my chest. Vivian looked down, acting guilty. “Ethan, if Chloe finds out we had lunch together, she won’t be mad, will she?” “She has no right to be mad. Besides, we’re getting divorced anyway.” Standing beside him, I stared at the disgust in his eyes and let out a mocking laugh. *Ethan, I’m already dead. You can go straight to the courthouse and file for a death certificate.* I saw the triumphant smile Vivian couldn’t quite hide. “Really? Then we…” Suddenly, a waiter walked over. “Excuse me, sir, miss. We have a couple’s promotion today. If you take a romantic photo together, you get fifty percent off. Would you like to participate?” “Yes!” Vivian said. “No,” Ethan said simultaneously. I didn’t understand why he refused. Wasn’t he desperate to divorce me so they could be together publicly? While I was wondering, Vivian leaned in and kissed his cheek. Ethan froze for a second, then gently pulled her back into her seat. He leaned down and whispered, “Let me handle the situation with Chloe first. I don’t want people calling you a home-wrecker who stole someone else’s husband.” So that was the difference between love and indifference. When Vivian suddenly left the country five years ago, Ethan and I got married shortly after. Everyone in our social circle rumored that I had stolen him. I begged him to clarify things. But he had only said, *“Why care what they think? We’re the ones living our lives.”* Vivian blushed and smiled. “Okay! Then, Ethan, can we throw a little party tonight? To celebrate you becoming single again?” Looking at her eager face, Ethan hesitated for a moment before agreeing. Indeed, I was the only obstacle between them. Even before the divorce was official, they couldn’t wait to celebrate. … That night. Ethan held Vivian’s hand as they walked into the Hilton. They looked exactly like a deeply in-love couple. I didn’t want to watch them be intimate. But every time I tried to step away, the invisible force would yank me back, forcing me to stand right next to him. Ethan pushed open the VIP lounge door. Suddenly, party poppers went off, showering them in confetti and rose petals. Look at that. We didn’t even have this at our wedding. Looking at the beautiful couple standing together, it felt as if I were the villain who had wrongfully kept them apart for five years.

All night, Ethan accepted every drink offered to him. He didn’t stop smiling. It seemed that finally getting rid of me and being with the woman he loved made him truly happy. After a few drinks, Vivian seemed drunk. She leaned heavily against his chest. Seeing her struggle, Ethan excused them early and took her upstairs to a hotel suite. They fell onto the bed together. Vivian wrapped her arms around his neck. “Ethan, don’t leave me tonight.” I thought they were finally going to cross that line. But to my surprise, Ethan paused. He gently removed her hands. “Vivian, don’t.” He actually rejected her? Why? Before I could process my shock, Ethan gave the answer. “Be good. We aren’t officially together yet. I don’t want to ruin you.” How hilarious. When he wanted to sleep with me before we got married and I refused, what did he say? He called me prude and said we were getting married anyway, so what did it matter? That was the difference between love and lust. Suddenly, Ethan’s phone rang. His brows knit together when he saw the caller ID, and he instantly hung up. But the caller was persistent, calling back over and over. Annoyed, Ethan shut his phone off completely. A few minutes later, there was a furious banging on the hotel room door, accompanied by a screaming voice. “Ethan Carter! Don’t you dare hide in there! I know you’re in there with that bitch! You have the balls to play around, but you don’t have the balls to open the door?!”

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At our high school reunion, my wife’s first love looked me dead in the eye and asked, with a smug, teasing smile, “If Ethan and I had pursued you at the same time back then, Chloe, who would you have chosen?” To everyone’s absolute shock, my wife replied, “I would have chosen you.” The entire room went dead silent. Everyone stared at me. Right then, I decided to let them be together. I would let her pay the ultimate price of her entire life to finally see who this man really was. The reunion was in full swing in the grand ballroom of a luxury hotel. I looked around, watching my old classmates cluster together, laughing about the good old days and bragging about their current lives. I sat on a couch in the corner, holding a glass of scotch, my eyes searching the crowd for Chloe. When I finally spotted her, she was giggling and whispering with Marcus. A sharp, unnameable sting pierced my chest. I stood up and walked toward them. As I got closer, I heard Marcus telling her, “Chloe, you were our high school Prom Queen back then, and honestly? You’re still just as gorgeous today.” Chloe blushed, looking away shyly. “Stop it. I’m getting old.” Marcus looked at her with intense, lingering affection. “If you could do it all over again, would you marry me instead?” “Yes.” Chloe murmured the word, then lowered her head, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Hearing that, a bitter taste filled my mouth. I stepped into their space and cleared my throat loudly, cutting off their little moment. Both Chloe and Marcus snapped their heads toward me. When Chloe saw it was me, a flicker of panic flashed across her face. Marcus, on the other hand, just smirked mockingly. “Oh, you’re here,” Chloe stammered, trying to ease the tension. I looked at her, my voice cold. “Yeah, I’m here. I couldn’t miss our Prom Queen having such a great time with her ex, could I?” Marcus let out a soft laugh. “What? Are you jealous, Ethan? Relax, man. Chloe and I are just two old friends catching up.” I glared at him and scoffed. “Catching up? Does catching up require leaning in that close? If people didn’t know better, they’d think you two were the ones married.” Marcus stood up, confronting me face-to-face. “Watch your mouth, Ethan. Chloe and I are completely innocent. You, on the other hand, are just insecure. You don’t even have the most basic trust in your own wife.” His words set my temper ablaze. “I’m insecure? You two are practically sitting in each other’s laps, and the whole class is watching. Do you think everyone here is stupid, or just blind?” By now, the surrounding classmates had turned to look at us, whispering and pointing. Chloe stood up too, trying to play peacemaker. “Guys, come on. We’re all old friends. Let’s not ruin the night.” But neither Marcus nor I was backing down. We were both furious. Marcus seized the opportunity to play the victim. “Look at him, everyone! This is how petty he is. He doesn’t even trust his own wife.” Hearing him say “wife” only made me angrier. “Wife? Oh, so you know she’s my wife? Then why the hell are you hitting on her right in front of me?” Marcus faked a look of pure innocence. “Hitting on her? You need proof before you make accusations, man. Chloe and I were just having a normal conversation.” Chloe stood there awkwardly. She wanted to defend me, but she also didn’t want to offend her wealthy old classmates. She gently tugged at my sleeve. “Ethan, let’s just go home.” But I was too far gone. I brushed her hand off. “Go home? For what? At a reunion, this asshole is practically wrapping his arms around my wife, asking if you’d marry him if you could do it over, and you freaking said *yes*! If I tolerate this, am I even a man? Ask any guy in this room—who would put up with this shit?” Our shouting match grew louder. The crowd was buzzing. Some tried to intervene, some were just enjoying the drama, and a few even pulled out their phones to record. Marcus suddenly smirked. “Since you don’t trust Chloe anyway, why don’t you just divorce her? I’m sure once she leaves you, she’ll find a much better home.” My vision went red. I grabbed a nearby chair, ready to smash it over his head, but Tyler and a few other guys rushed in and held me back. Marcus didn’t even flinch. He just laughed. “You make barely forty grand a year at your dead-end desk job. Go home and buy a dog, or marry some ugly loser. What can you even give Chloe? I can give her the life she actually deserves. Houses, sports cars, black cards—whatever she wants.” Pure rage consumed me. I broke free and swung a fist at his face. But he was quick. He dodged it and punched me right back in the jaw. We clashed, tumbling to the floor. The rest of the guys scrambled to pull us apart. Chloe was frantic, pacing around and crying, but she was completely useless. It took four guys to finally drag us away from each other. I gave Marcus one last death glare and stormed out of the ballroom. Chloe reluctantly followed me, while Marcus shouted behind us, “Ethan! Chloe is going to be mine sooner or later! A broke loser like you doesn’t stand a chance!”

After we got home, Chloe and I entered a brutal cold war. I couldn’t accept what she and Marcus had done, and I honestly didn’t know how to look at her anymore. In the days that followed, Chloe’s phone rang constantly. Every time she answered, she would immediately walk into another room to avoid me. Eventually, she started putting on heavy makeup and going out late at night. One evening, unable to take it anymore, I tried to bring it up casually over dinner. “Chloe, you’ve been talking to Marcus a lot lately.” Chloe avoided my gaze, picking at her food. “Oh. He just texts me occasionally to chat.” “You know what happened between us. That ‘occasional’ texting seems to be taking up most of your day.” “Fine. I’ll stop talking to him.” Her response was flat, devoid of any real explanation. She shut down the conversation so fast that I couldn’t even say anything else. But I knew she was lying. Whenever she was home and had a free moment, she would lock herself in the bedroom. The second I walked in, she would pretend to be asleep. As time went on, her attitude toward me grew colder and colder, yet the moment her phone rang, her voice would light up with excitement. Finally, I hit my breaking point. I decided to do some digging. I needed to know exactly how far they had gone. One night, while Chloe was in the shower, I snuck over and unlocked her phone. Their Snapchat history was overflowing. The messages were incredibly intimate, filled with flirting and dirty talk. Worse, they were actively plotting how to get her to divorce me. This entire cold-shoulder routine? It was Marcus’s idea to force me to call it quits. My hands shook, and a raging fire burned in my chest. I couldn’t believe it. My own wife was actively conspiring against me with another man. In a fit of blind rage, I grabbed my keys, got into my car, and drove straight to Marcus’s apartment. When I found him, he was just about to leave his building. I slammed him against the wall, grabbing him by the collar. “Stay the hell away from Chloe! Don’t make me kill you.” Marcus didn’t look scared at all. He just looked at me with pure pitiless contempt. “Ethan, you’re pathetic. You can’t satisfy Chloe. You can’t give her real happiness.” “Shut your mouth!” I roared, throwing a hard punch right into his cheek. He dodged the brunt of it, grabbed my arm, and twisted it back. “Ethan, you’re a loser. Chloe stopped loving you a long time ago. She’s only staying with you because she pities you.” We fought like wild animals, kicking and punching our way from the lobby out onto the sidewalk. The neighbors heard the commotion and came out to watch. Someone called the cops. Within minutes, sirens wailed, and the police arrived, dragging both of us away—bloody, bruised, and handcuffed—to the local precinct. Sitting in the cold holding cell, the adrenaline wore off, and a chilling calm washed over me. I began to reflect on my marriage with Chloe. Maybe Marcus was right. I couldn’t give her the lavish lifestyle she craved. You can’t keep a heart that wants to leave. Why force it? Letting go was probably the best option. It was past midnight when Chloe finally showed up at the precinct. She bailed me out. We didn’t say a single word to each other on the drive home. The moment we walked through our front door, the suffocating silence exploded. “Why would you do that?” I demanded, my voice shaking with raw hurt. “Do you have any idea how much you and Marcus are destroying me?” But Chloe was unnervingly calm. “Ethan, you’ve never truly understood me. Do you even know what I want? Do you have any clue what goes on in my mind? Marcus gets me. He knows what I need.” Her words felt like a knife twisting in my heart. I had given her everything, and this was what I got. “So, you chose to betray me? To be with him?” Chloe stayed silent. But her silence was all the answer I needed. My devotion, my effort, my humble attempt to love her—it was all completely worthless to her. Suddenly, I burst into a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I walked toward the study. “Go to him then. I’m done caring.” Before shutting the door, I poked my head back out. “By the way, let’s find a time to get a divorce. I’m setting you free.” Chloe gasped, staring at me with a complex mix of shock and confusion. I slept in the study that night. Shortly after I turned off the lights, I heard the front door click shut. She had gone to him. I smiled mockingly in the dark. Lying on the small sofa, tears silently rolled down my face. I told myself: *Just for tonight, let me be a coward.*

After that night, I threw myself entirely into my work. A few days later, a cousin of mine suddenly sent me a message: “Ethan, why is Chloe going around asking everyone in the family for loans? Did something happen to you guys?” I was shocked. I immediately sent a mass Snapchat message to all my relatives and friends: *Do not lend Chloe any money.* Then, I dialed her number. The moment she picked up, I suppressed my anger and demanded, “Why are you borrowing money from my family?” “I have an emergency,” Chloe replied, her tone icy and condescending. “This is a personal loan. It has nothing to do with you. And don’t worry, when I get rich off this, it won’t have anything to do with you either.” “Are you investing in something? Don’t let Marcus scam you!” I said urgently. “Yes, I invested in his new project. But that’s because I believe in his capability. It’s a high-yield opportunity. Not everyone is like you, Ethan, spending their whole lives working a miserable job. You call it ‘hard work,’ but honestly, it’s just slave labor.” “High-yield? Chloe, you know exactly how much savings we have. High-yield means high risk. It’s a scam!” My voice cracked with genuine worry. She dismissed me with a scoff. “No risk, no reward, Ethan. You can’t be a coward your whole life.” She hung up on me. But the dread in my stomach only grew. I decided to look into Marcus myself. I was done with Chloe, but I wasn’t going to let that bastard steal my hard-earned marital assets. Over the next few days, I used every connection I had to investigate Marcus’s background. As it turned out, his so-called “high-yield” project was nothing but a textbook Ponzi scheme. He was using money from new investors to pay off older ones, creating a fake illusion of high returns. And Chloe had not only dumped our entire joint savings into it, but she had also taken out massive loans from her friends and family. I felt like I had been struck by lightning. To protect whatever assets I had left, I went looking for them. I “coincidentally” ran into Chloe and Marcus at a high-end mall. They were holding hands, browsing the jewelry section of Tiffany & Co. like a blissful, wealthy couple. I couldn’t control myself. I marched right up and blocked their path. “Chloe, do you have any idea this guy is scamming you?” I yelled, pointing directly at Marcus. Chloe looked like I had poked a raw nerve. She instantly flared up. “Ethan, who the hell do you think you are? Marcus is a brilliant businessman! His project is fully vetted!” “Vetted? Vetted to steal people’s money?” My voice echoed through the department store, drawing stares from other shoppers. Marcus stood by, a smug, entertained grin on his face, as if watching a comedy show that had nothing to do with him. In that moment, I realized Chloe was completely brainwashed by his sweet talk. Anything I said would just sound like bitter jealousy. “Chloe, wake up! This man is using you!” I practically screamed. But she only gave me a look of pure disgust, took Marcus’s hand, and walked away without looking back. I felt a profound sense of helplessness. She was too far gone. When I got home, I sat quietly on the living room couch, waiting for her. The moment she walked through the door, I looked up. “Let’s get a divorce.” She froze, clearly not expecting me to pull the trigger so fast. “Ethan… what did you say?” her voice trembled.

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When people gossiped about her, she always said, “I’m running a legitimate business. I earn my money through hard work.” Whenever I argued with her, she would scream, “I must have been blind to marry a useless loser like you!” But it was only because I loved her that I was willing to swallow my pride and play weak. Then the rumors started. People whispered that I was a parasite, living off her money. She chimed in, “Well, they aren’t wrong. I make way more than you do.” The truth was, my entire salary went toward our mortgage and bills, and I even bought her designer bags and clothes. As for her salary? I never saw a single dime of it. She had no idea that six months ago, I was promoted. My new package was a quarter-million dollars a year. I waited. I pamper-fed her through her pregnancy until the day she went into labor. That was the day I blocked her on everything and vanished… “Ethan, man, you really need to keep a leash on your wife.” My best friend warned me again. I just smiled, nodded, and brushed it off. My wife, Chloe, worked as a masseuse at a rather sketchy local spa. My friends had spotted customers getting way too touchy-feeling with her more than once. “Babe, don’t you trust me?” Chloe would ask, wrapping her arms around my neck, her face covered in heavy makeup. I’d just smile back. “Of course I do. You’re just doing your job. I’ve got your back.” Hearing this, Chloe would cuddle into my chest with a smug smile. Despite my quiet support, the rumors about her being a “cheap spa girl” only got worse. *I can’t believe Ethan lets Chloe support him.* *No wonder he doesn’t mind her giving him a neon green hat.* The gossip spread like wildfire. Eventually, everyone we knew began sneering at me, slowly freezing me out of our social circle. “Babe, maybe it’s time to look for a different job?” I suggested to Chloe one evening. “We are doing just fine,” she snapped, her face tightening. “People will talk no matter what. Besides, it’s a fact that I make way more than you.” The rumors were clearly getting to her head. She was starting to look down on me. To her, I was just a low-level office drone making $3,000 a month, while she was bringing home nearly $10,000. One afternoon, after running an errand near her spa, I decided to stop by and surprise her for lunch. “Stop calling me! I’m busy, damn it!” I walked toward her breakroom and called her name. No answer. Just as I reached for the doorknob, her irritated voice cut through the door. I waited outside for about twenty minutes. When Chloe finally stepped out, her hair was a mess, and her blouse was half-unbuttoned. “Oh, so this is your loser husband?” Before I could say a word, a bald man in a flashy suit walked out of the breakroom behind her. Instead of defending me, Chloe put on a sweet, flirty smile. “See you next time, Marcus!” My stomach churned. The appetite I had was completely gone. That night, we had a massive blowout. “I was blind to ever marry a broke loser like you!” Chloe screamed. Just because I asked her to quit that sketchy place, she lost her mind. She claimed I couldn’t afford the lifestyle she wanted. What lifestyle? When had I ever said no to her demands? She slammed the door and left. We didn’t see each other for two weeks. The only text she sent me was: *Let’s get a divorce.* Immediately after, she blocked my number and my Snapchat. I went to her spa to find her, but she refused to see me. I tried to save our marriage, but she was hell-bent on leaving. What else could I do? I agreed to the divorce. But once I agreed, she suddenly went silent. A month later, my phone rang. It was Chloe. “Ethan… I’m pregnant.” Her voice sounded incredibly sweet, almost overflowing with joy. “Really? That’s amazing, babe!” I forced a cheerful tone, but my face was dead cold. Chloe really took me for an idiot. She wanted a scapegoat to take the blame and raise another man’s kid while she kept messing around. “Babe, I’m so sorry about our fights. Actually, I have some good news too. I just got promoted to director. My new package is $250,000 a year. You can quit your job and focus on the baby.” Hearing about the money, Chloe didn’t hesitate. She quit her job the next day and stayed home. During her pregnancy, I treated her like a queen. I hired a private chef and a maid to pamper her. With five gourmet meals a day, her once-slender body quickly ballooned. She was completely intoxicated by this new luxurious life, eagerly waiting for the baby to arrive. Finally, the day came. “Where is the husband? Chloe Miller’s husband! The baby is too big, we need to do an emergency C-section!”

The doctor shouted anxiously in the hallway. I simply smiled, turned around, and walked out of the hospital. “Ethan! Where the hell are you?! I almost died giving birth to your son, and you pull a disappearing act?!” From the moment she popped the baby out, Chloe kept spamming my phone. I didn’t pick up once. A week later, I finally answered. “My son?” I chuckled. Seriously, how did she say that with a straight face? “What do you mean by that?! You have thirty minutes to get your ass over here, Ethan!” Chloe screamed through the receiver. I knew exactly why she was panicking. She didn’t even have the money to pay her hospital bills. “Sure. But while we’re at it, let’s run a DNA test to see whose kid that actually is.” The line went dead silent. I knew she was guilty. A few minutes after I hung up, she called back, her voice completely changed—soft and whimpering. “Babe… I know you still love me. Can we please just talk?” She was playing nice now. But I wasn’t an idiot. Raise another man’s kid? No way. “Sure,” I said smoothly. But instead of going to the hospital, I drove straight back to my office. On the way, I thought about how we met. An acquaintance had introduced us. Back then, she was just a certified pediatric massage therapist. We dated for a year before getting married. After the wedding, someone lured her into that shady spa. I didn’t find out until my friend told me. We had a huge fight about it. To convince me, she brainwashed me every day, even taking me to the spa to prove it was a “clean, professional business.” Just when I was about to believe her, I caught her in a lie. From that day on, I stopped trusting her. I hid my real income and never told her about my promotion. I gave her chances. I tried to pull her back. But she took my love as a license to play me for a fool. “Ethan, you are not a real man!” When I got home, Chloe was sitting in my living room, holding the baby. “So raising another man’s kid makes me a man?” I pulled off my tie and sat on the couch. “Ethan, I know you still love me. Can we just start over? If you love me, you have to accept my son too.” So, she was finally admitting it wasn’t mine. Looking at her now, easily weighing 180 pounds, I found the whole thing hilarious. “When I loved you, you treated me like trash. Now that I don’t, it’s over. I signed the divorce papers you wanted a month ago. Here.” I threw the papers on the coffee table. “No! You can’t do this to me!” she shrieked, losing her mind. “Why not? Am I supposed to just keep wearing the green hat you gave me?” If she wouldn’t sign them quietly, I’d let my lawyers handle it. Chloe knew she wouldn’t get a single penny if we went to court. She might even have to pay me back for all the money she spent. “Ethan, do you really have to be this cruel?” Chloe fell to her knees, grabbing my hand, tears streaming down her face. Disgusted, I shook her off. “If you don’t want to see this baby, I can give him away! Just don’t divorce me!” she cried, grabbing my leg. She was crying so loudly that the baby woke up, screaming at the top of his lungs. Annoyed, Chloe didn’t even look at the child. She just tossed him carelessly onto the couch. “Get out,” I said coldly. “Ethan! Even if we divorce, I’m entitled to half of everything! This house is half mine! I’m not going anywhere!”

Chloe stood up, pointing a finger at my face and screaming. In a normal marriage, yes, she might have a claim. But before we got married, she insisted on signing a prenuptial agreement because she was terrified she’d have to help me pay off my mortgage. “Then go ahead and sue me.” I grabbed her and the baby and pushed them both out of the door. But Chloe didn’t leave. She stood in the middle of our gated community, wailing at the top of her lungs about how heartless I was for kicking a woman and her newborn out just a week after she gave birth. Soon, a group of nosy older neighbors—classic Karens—couldn’t stand it anymore. They rallied behind Chloe and marched right up to my door. “You are a heartless monster! Abandoning your wife and newborn baby? karma will get you!” “She hasn’t even recovered from giving birth yet, and you throw her on the street?!” The moment I opened the door, the older women started barking at me. “Young man, marriage is about compromise. Don’t be so petty!” one of them lectured. “Oh really? What did she tell you guys?” I asked, genuinely curious about how Chloe had manipulated them. “You young people have such weird appetites. She literally just gave birth, of course she can’t sleep with you yet!” another lady chimed in. I almost burst out laughing. “Ethan, can we please just wait until I’m fully recovered?” Chloe whimpered, dropping hints to keep up the lie. “Ma’am,” I looked at the lead Karen. “If your daughter-in-law cheated on your son and tried to make him raise another man’s baby, would you still tell him to compromise?” The crowd went dead silent. “What?” The ladies blinked, completely stunned. Chloe’s face went pale. She hadn’t expected me to air our dirty laundry in public. “The baby isn’t mine. And we are already getting a divorce,” I stated clearly. “No! I didn’t sign those papers! You can’t just kick me out!” Chloe screamed. I had tried to give her a dignified exit, but she threw it away. “The house is my pre-marital asset. And before we got married, you were the one who insisted on a prenup. Did you forget?” The neighbors looked at each other, realizing they had been played. In America, nothing turns a crowd faster than finding out they supported a cheating gold-digger. “Oh my god, how shameless…” “Let’s go. Why are we defending a liar? You reap what you sow.” The crowd dispersed in seconds. Chloe slumped to the ground, holding the baby and crying hysterically. I closed the door and called security to have her removed for trespassing. Since she couldn’t show her face in our neighborhood anymore, she decided to bring the drama to my office. With so many corporate employees around, gossip traveled faster than light. *No way. Is Ethan really that kind of guy?* *He probably got rich and wanted to dump his wife.* By the time I arrived at work, the office was buzzing with rumors. I was used to it. After all, they used to whisper that I was a freeloader living off her. “Ethan, you bastard! You want to ruin my life? I’ll drag you down with me!” Chloe screamed in the lobby, drawing a massive crowd. I couldn’t just ignore this anymore. It was damaging my reputation and the company’s image. I signaled my assistant to get the files ready. Chloe thought I had no proof. She thought that if she made enough noise, I’d get fired. She miscalculated. “Chloe, this is your last warning. Stop this, leave, and take this $15,000.” I threw a check at her feet. “You think $15,000 is going to make me go away?! No way! You’re scared now, aren’t you, Ethan? Too late! I’m taking you down to hell with me!” Chloe threw the check back at my face, screaming like a lunatic. I had given her a chance. The surrounding crowd pressed closer, eager for more drama. Seeing my silence, Chloe grew bolder. She sat on the floor, ignoring the baby’s loud crying, and glared at me with pure venom. Suddenly, the giant presentation screen in the lobby flickered to life. A video started playing. *“Ooh, gentler, baby… you’re hurting me.”* *“You little slut. Aren’t you afraid your loser husband will find out?”*

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In the seventh year of our marriage, I finally relented and let my husband bring his late brother’s wife and daughter into our home. One afternoon, my son secretly pulled me into his room and pressed a crumpled wad of cash into my hand. “Mom, look. I’ve saved up so much money. Next time Dad kicks you out, let’s just leave him. We don’t need him.” “Can you divorce Dad? I don’t want him anymore. I want you to find me a good dad.” My heart squeezed painfully. “But baby, what about you?” My son looked up, his eyes shining with fierce determination. “I’ll go wherever you go, Mom. I’m a big boy now. I can protect you.” “Ever since Chloe and Lily moved in, every time Dad brings back gifts from his business trips, Lily gets to pick first. We only get her leftovers.” “And last week, when you fainted from the fever, I called Dad ten times. He blocked my calls. He was busy taking Chloe and Lily to Disneyland.” I clenched the crumpled bills in my fist, a bitter taste rising in my throat. That night at dinner, my son accidentally called his father “Dad.” For the sixth time in our marriage, my husband demanded a divorce and threatened to throw us out. “Look at how you raised your son! He knows Lily doesn’t have a father, yet he deliberately rubs it in her face. Get the hell out of my house and think about what you’ve done!” Seeing my son trembling but still standing in front of me to shield me, something inside me finally snapped. The fog in my brain cleared. I stood up and flipped the dining table. Plates shattered, and food splattered everywhere. “You want a divorce? Fine! Let’s get a divorce!”

Austin’s face turned pitch black. He instantly scooped his niece, Lily, into his arms while throwing his free arm around his sister-in-law, Chloe, shielding her behind him. “Have you lost your mind, Claire? Chloe spent hours cooking this dinner, and you just ruined it!” Chloe peeked out from behind Austin’s shoulder, a smug, triumphant smirk flashing across her face before she quickly replaced it with a look of sheer terror. My fingernails dug into my palms. My face went completely pale. Ever since Chloe and her daughter moved in, I had been relegated to an unpaid maid. Tonight, Chloe had literally just carried two takeout dishes to the table, and suddenly, she was the chef of the year. If she so much as touched a broom once a week, Austin praised her for “deep cleaning” the house. Meanwhile, I worked myself to the bone from dawn to dusk, only for Austin to call me lazy. And now, when I was pushed to the absolute edge, he was still blaming me for ruining Chloe’s “hard work.” Lily wrapped her arms around Austin’s neck, sobbing hysterically. “Austin… where is my daddy? Why does Leo get to have a dad and I don’t?” Austin and Chloe immediately swarmed her, cooing and soothing her. But the more they comforted her, the louder she wailed. Austin whipped his head around, glaring at my son with pure rage. “Did I not make myself clear, Leo? You are never to call me ‘Dad’ in front of Lily! Get on your knees. Now!” My seven-year-old son trembled, his knees instantly buckling out of sheer survival reflex. I lunged forward, grabbing him by the shoulders to pull him back up. I glared at Austin, my voice shaking with disbelief. “He has a father! Why on earth can’t he call you Dad in his own home?” This was beyond ridiculous. After Austin’s brother, Ryan, died in a car crash, Austin insisted on bringing his widow and daughter into our home. Since that day, he had forbidden Leo from calling him “Dad.” Leo was just a child. Occasionally, he would slip up. But every time he did, Lily would throw a massive tantrum, and Austin would either slap Leo’s hands or force him to kneel on the hard floor as punishment. Just a minute ago, Leo couldn’t reach the food on Austin’s side of the table and accidentally called out, “Dad, can you pass the chicken?” That was all it took for Austin to slam his fist on the table, shaking the plates. “You can’t even raise a son right! I want a divorce. Get the hell out of my house and reflect!” I clutched my fork, my eyes burning. This was the sixth time he had used divorce to threaten me. The first time was when Leo begged Austin to attend his Parent-Teacher Association meeting. Lily had burst into tears, and Austin threw me out of the house. “From now on, I will only attend Lily’s school events. She needs a male role model more than Leo does,” he had declared. The second time was when I suggested Chloe should look into getting a job to support herself. She wept, locked herself in her room, and went on a “hunger strike” for a day, claiming I was mocking her tragic widowhood. Austin demanded a divorce that night. For the sake of giving my son a complete family, I had always swallowed my pride, begged for forgiveness, and crawled back. But looking at my trembling, terrified boy, I woke up. This wasn’t a family. This was a horror movie. Chloe, tears streaming down her face, dramatically snatched Lily from Austin’s arms. “Claire, please don’t divorce Austin because of us! My daughter and I will leave. We won’t get in your way anymore.” With that, she grabbed her purse and made a theatrical run for the front door. Austin leaped forward, grabbing her arm to pull her back. He spun around and spat at me, “Claire! How can you be so heartless?” “They are a grieving widow and an orphan! We took them in, and this is how you treat them? If people in our circle find out about this, they will drag our family name through the mud!” My nose stung, and a sharp, stabbing pain bloomed in my chest. Drag his family name through the mud? When they first moved in, they were pale and malnourished. I pitied them. I spent my own savings buying organic groceries and cooking nutritious meals to nurse them back to health. In our three-bedroom apartment, Chloe and Lily occupied the two master bedrooms. The three of us—Austin, Leo, and I—were crammed into the tiny guest room. Chloe had cried that she had no assets left, so Austin transferred the deed of the cottage my parents had left me to her name. I hadn’t even made a scene about that. I had done everything a supportive sister-in-law could possibly do. No one could point a finger at me. But in his eyes, I was still the villain. I knelt down, wrapped my arms around Leo, and stared at Austin for a long, quiet moment. “Austin,” I said softly, “I agreed to let them move in because I felt sorry for them. But do you even remember who your actual wife and son are?” Austin stiffened, his expression flickering with a moment of guilt. “What kind of nonsense is that? Of course I know.” I pressed my lips together. The fog in my head had completely vanished. Actually, I was the one who hadn’t realized the truth. I hadn’t realized that to Austin, the validation of outsiders meant more than his own flesh and blood. As long as Chloe and her daughter stroked his ego and praised him to the neighbors as a “heroic savior,” he was willing to bleed us dry. I hugged Leo tight, gently patting his back. “It doesn’t matter if you can’t tell us apart anymore,” I said, my voice steady and cold. “After all, I’m about to be your ex-wife.”

Austin’s face hardened. “All this drama over a minor slip of the tongue? Ever since Chloe and Lily moved in, you’ve done nothing but throw petty tantrums.” My heart felt like it was being shredded. Petty tantrums? The psychological abuse, the exploitation, the humiliation—all of it was just a “petty tantrum” to him. The silence in the room grew suffocating. Chloe’s eyes darted around. Suddenly, she grabbed Lily and lunged toward the drywall, screaming, “Austin, don’t fight with Claire! It’s all my fault! We’ll pay you back in the next life… Ryan, we’re coming to join you!” Her acting was flawless, her face a perfect mask of tragic despair. She secretly pinched Lily’s arm, and the little girl let out a piercing, ear-splitting shriek. I watched the spectacle with complete numbness. This theatrical performance happened at least three times a month. Panic flashed in Austin’s eyes. He rushed over, grabbing Chloe by the waist and pulling her back. “What the hell are you doing?!” he roared. Chloe shuddered, casting a fearful, sideways glance at me. “I know… Claire hates us. She wants us dead.” Austin spun around, grabbed my arm roughly, and dragged me forward. “Apologize to her. Now.” I held Leo close to my chest. He was clutching my shirt so hard his knuckles were white. I stared back at Austin in dead silence. I had done absolutely nothing wrong. Why should I apologize? Austin’s brow furrowed into a tight scowl. The sound of Lily’s hysterical crying was making him lose his mind. Without warning, his hand flew out and struck my face. SLAP! The force of the blow nearly knocked me off my feet. A bright red handprint bloomed on my cheek. My ears rang, and the last remaining piece of my heart shattered into dust. I suddenly remembered our wedding day. Austin had sworn before God and our family that no matter what happened, he would never lay a finger on me. He had promised to love and protect me. He had forgotten every single word. Even Austin seemed shocked by his own action. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly. “Claire… does it hurt?” The boy in my arms let out a furious cry. Leo shoved Austin’s hand away with all his might. “Don’t touch my mom! You’re a bad dad! I hate you!” Austin stumbled back, his eyes narrowing. “Who taught you to speak to your father like that?” Chloe, wiping her fake tears, chimed in, “Who else could it be but Claire? Austin, you’re away at work all day, so you don’t know. Claire is always whispering poison into Leo’s ear, turning him against you. She’s ruining the boy.” Austin’s expression darkened. He reached out to snatch Leo from my arms. “From now on, Chloe will raise Leo. I won’t let you turn him into a bitter, toxic brat like yourself.” Let Chloe raise him? A memory flashed in my mind, making my blood run cold. A few months ago, I had to go to the hospital to care for my mother-in-law for a few hours. I had left Leo at home. When I unlocked the door, I found Leo kneeling on the hardwood floor, picking up sunflower seed shells with his bare hands. Chloe had been lounging on the sofa, eating seeds and barking orders at him like a slave owner. Lily had been throwing heavy plastic toys at Leo’s head for fun. One toy had cut his forehead open. He had been sobbing on the floor, bleeding, while they laughed. I had rushed him to the ER, where he got five stitches. When I confronted Austin, what did he say? “It’s just kids playing. Don’t be so dramatic.” Panic surged through me. My chest tightened. I couldn’t let him take my son. I would rather die.

Austin lunged forward to grab Leo. Chloe helped him, pulling at my son’s legs. “Leo, come to Chloe. If you stay with your crazy mother, you’ll end up homeless on the streets!” Leo screamed in terror, reaching his tiny hands toward me. “Mom! Mom! Help me!” When I saw the bright red friction burns forming on Leo’s pale arms, I had to let go. If I kept pulling, they would dislocate his shoulders. With Leo in his arms, Austin smirked triumphantly. “You want a divorce? Go ahead. But you’re not taking Leo with you.” Leo sobbed hysterically, choking on his own tears. I stared at my son, my mind racing with desperation. Austin was smug. He was certain that because of Leo, I would eventually crawl back on my hands and knees, begging for mercy, just like the last five times. But this time, I was calculating my chances in a custody battle. “You can’t divorce! You absolutely cannot divorce!” The front door burst open, and my in-laws, Richard and Martha, hurried into the apartment. “The neighbors are already whispering that Chloe is a homewrecker!” Martha gasped, grabbing my hand with fake affection. “Claire, sweetie, I’m on your side.” She leaned in close, whispering in my ear, “How about this? I’ll have Chloe and Lily move in with us for a while. You and Austin can have some couple time. Just don’t divorce.” I gently but firmly pushed Martha’s hand away. She didn’t care about my marriage. She was just terrified of losing her free, 24-hour caregiver and maid. When Martha was hospitalized last year, I was the one who cooked every meal, washed her clothes, and bathed her. The year before, when Richard broke his leg and refused to stay in the rehab center, I was the one who studied physical therapy videos to help him walk again. Where was Chloe during all of this? She and Lily left the house in a complete mess for me to clean. I was so exhausted my back was constantly spasming, yet I still had to cook gourmet meals for them. When I complained to Austin, he just snapped, “You’re a housewife. You don’t have a real job. What else are you supposed to do all day?” My in-laws had broken my heart. During their illnesses, Chloe never visited them once. After they recovered, she simply bought them two cheap sweaters from Wish. And yet, my in-laws had turned around and scolded me. “Look at Chloe! She’s so thoughtful, unlike you.” Richard slammed his cane against the floor, making a deafening crack. “If anyone dares to get a divorce in this family, I will throw myself off a bridge!” Chloe immediately rushed to support Richard. “Please don’t say things like that.” She shot me a victimized look. “Claire didn’t mean it. It’s just that Lily was upset because Leo kept calling Austin ‘Dad’ right in front of her.” Richard sneered. “Leo is just a child, but what about you, Claire? Aren’t you an adult? Don’t you have any common sense?” A wave of bitter fury surged up my throat. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Is Austin dead?” I spat out. “If he’s not dead, why the hell can’t his own son call him Dad?” “You bad woman! My daddy isn’t dead!” Lily, prompted by a subtle nudge from Chloe, rushed forward and began hitting my legs with her fists. Chloe quickly scooped her up, fake-panicking. “Yes, sweetie, Daddy isn’t dead. He just went on a very long trip.” Austin, completely ignoring his own sobbing son on the floor, rushed over to comfort Lily. Leo ran to my side, grabbing my hand. I squeezed his hand, preparing to slip out of the apartment in the chaos. But the commotion had drawn a crowd of neighbors in the hallway, who were now whispering and pointing at us. Losing face in front of the neighbors made Richard furious. He raised his heavy wooden cane, aiming it straight at my head. “You ungrateful, disobedient bitch! I’ll teach you a lesson!”

Leo reacted instantly, pulling me into the guest bedroom and slamming the door shut, locking it from the inside. Outside, the muffled voices of my in-laws carried through the thin door. “Is she really going to divorce him?” Martha whispered anxiously. “If they divorce, who’s going to cook for us and drive us to our appointments? The nurse we hired last time complained about the pay and left after two days. We can’t let them divorce.” Austin’s arrogant voice drifted in. “She won’t dare. She hasn’t worked a single day since she got pregnant. If she divorces me, she’ll end up starving on the streets. Besides, I saved her life once…” The rest of his words faded as they walked further into the living room. That night, I held Leo tight as he slept. He was sweating and twitching in his sleep, his little hands clawing at my shirt. “Mom… please don’t leave me… don’t let them lock me up…” During one of our previous fights, when Austin had kicked me out, he had locked Leo in a dark closet for ten hours, telling him, “Your mother abandoned you because you’re a bad boy.” It wasn’t until I came back crying and begging on my knees that Austin finally let me see my terrified, hyperventilating child. I kissed Leo’s forehead, tears slipping down my cheeks. “Go to sleep, my brave boy. Mommy will never leave you. I promise.” The next morning, I heard the front door click. Austin had left for work. I quickly packed our passports, birth certificates, and a few essentials into a small backpack. Holding Leo’s hand, I crept out of the bedroom. But the moment I opened the door, my heart froze. Austin was sitting on the living room sofa, staring at me with a chilling, mock smile. “Going somewhere so early, honey?” I forced myself to take a deep breath, squeezing Leo’s hand to reassure him. “Just going for a walk.” I walked toward the front door. I reached for the handle and turned it. Nothing. He had deadbolted it and taken the keys. I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs. Austin stood up, his towering shadow swallowing me whole. He lunged forward, ripped the backpack from my hands, and dumped the contents onto the floor. My documents and cards scattered everywhere. “A backup plan? You really thought you could run?” I backed away, shielding Leo behind me. Austin’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed Leo by the collar, dragging him away. He threw my screaming son into the guest bedroom and locked the door from the outside. Leo’s desperate cries echoed through the apartment. “Mommy! Mommy! Open the door!” My heart shattered. I threw myself at the door, pounding on it, but Austin grabbed my wrists, dragging me into the master bedroom. He threw me onto the bed, pinning me down with his heavy body. “You want a divorce? Sure. But give me another baby first, and maybe I’ll let you go.” I couldn’t breathe. In a fit of disgust and rage, I swung my arm and slapped him across the face. “You disgusting monster!” He smirked, ignoring my punches and kicks as he forced himself on me. When it was over, I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling with cold, dead eyes. Austin smiled, running a hand through my messy hair. “Once you’re pregnant, I’ll think about letting you outside.” He took my phone, my wallet, and my keys. He even checked the window locks, making sure there was no way for me to escape our twelfth-floor apartment. Then, humming a tune, he walked into the kitchen to make lunch. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Chloe returning from her morning walk, Austin opened the door. Two stern-faced police officers stood on the threshold, presenting their badges. “Mr. Austin Miller? We received a report of domestic abuse and unlawful confinement. Step aside, please.”

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