While performing a medical examination on my boyfriend’s best friend Lydia, I discovered she had cancer. To help her raise money for surgery quickly, I took the initiative to offer to buy her house. But just two days after I moved in, her cancer miraculously disappeared, while I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. She filed a complaint at the hospital, saying I had forged medical records to trick her into selling me her house. “You forged medical records just to scam my house away from me. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” I denied it repeatedly, pulling up all her medical records and even showing the bank transfer receipts. But she just sneered. “Those can all be faked. If I really had late-stage cancer, how do you explain my miraculous recovery?” My boyfriend Pedro also frowned and accused me. “I checked with the bank. You haven’t even paid Lydia yet!” I couldn’t defend myself and was ultimately fired from the hospital. Even all my assets were seized by Pedro as compensation for Lydia. But I died in agony from a cancer outbreak. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn, back to the day Lydia wanted to sell her house. “If only someone would buy my house, then I could survive!”

Hearing the familiar hint in Lydia’s words, I realized I had been reborn. In my previous life, I caught her hint and took the initiative to offer to buy her house at a price above market value. She knelt before me excitedly, thanking me over and over. But just two days after I moved in, she went to the medical office to file a complaint against me. She said I had deliberately forged her late-stage cancer medical records to buy her house at a low price while she was desperate. “The moment she took over my house, the director told me I wasn’t sick at all. How can that be such a coincidence?” “Pedro already said how much she wanted her own house but couldn’t afford one. Now isn’t this the perfect opportunity?” I was fired from the hospital. Even when I produced evidence to prove my innocence, it was useless. In the end, I was left homeless, dying in agony on the street with no one caring. And I could never figure out how I, who had always been healthy, could suddenly be diagnosed with late-stage cancer. This time, no matter what she says, I won’t buy her house again! I pretended not to understand her hint, putting my hands in my pockets and smiling faintly. “Why don’t you post your medical records and property deed online? There are so many kind people out there. As long as your price is right, someone will definitely be willing to buy.” Lydia’s smile froze. She stood up abruptly, her face showing the humiliation of being insulted. “Dr. Betty, I just want to sell my house. I haven’t reached the point where I need to be humiliated by strangers online!” “You’re insulting me! I’m sick, but I’m not a beggar. If it has to be like this, I’d rather not sell the house.” I said nothing more. Seeing my silence, the anxiety on Lydia’s face intensified. She changed tactics. “Pedro’s girlfriend is also my friend. We have such a good relationship. You surely can’t bear to see me struggling with money, right? How about…” She drew out her words, her eyes drifting toward me. I nodded, took out several business cards from real estate agencies from my drawer, and pushed them toward her. “These are all well-known agencies that sell properties quickly. If you list with all of them simultaneously, you’ll definitely sell soon.” Lydia was choked by my words, her face full of unwillingness and irritation. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice sharp and urgent. “Are you deliberately pushing me into a pit of fire? Those unscrupulous agencies are all eyeing my commission fees.” “If I give them the money, how will I pay for treatment?” “What I meant was, as long as you buy it, I’ll…” I immediately cut her off. “You’d better think of another way. I don’t have money.” Lydia’s face instantly darkened. She grabbed my hand, her tone full of entitlement. “You don’t have money, so you can’t buy my house? I’m not asking for much, just seven hundred thousand. You’re telling me you can’t come up with that?” “It’s still early. Come with me right now to transfer the ownership!” With that, she pulled me quickly toward the door. I lowered my eyes, watching her eager appearance, and sneered. Was she trying to force a sale? I yanked my hand back forcefully. Lydia’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “I know you look down on my illness, but my house isn’t sick!” “I’m begging you not to force me to list with an agency! I haven’t raised enough for my surgery yet. I really can’t afford the agency fees!” Before I could speak, Pedro rushed in from outside. He supported the swaying Lydia and frowned at me accusingly. “Betty, Lydia just wants to sell her house. Why are you being so aggressive?”

I put on a stern face and adopted a businesslike attitude. “As her attending physician, I’m only responsible for treating and saving patients. I have no obligation to help her raise money for surgery.” But Pedro didn’t take my words to heart. He waved his hand impatiently. “You want to buy a house, Lydia wants to sell a house. It’s a win-win situation. Why are you making such a fuss? You even insist she list with an agency.” “You’re just petty, always scheming against your own people.” Watching his complaining expression, I was dazed for a moment. In my previous life when Lydia complained about me, he had the same impatient look. “I’ve known Lydia for over ten years. She never lies. You should just admit it.” “Apologize to Lydia and give her back the house. Consider the purchase money as compensation for her, and she’ll definitely forgive you.” “Sacrificing a little benefit is better than losing your job.” He defended Lydia at every turn and never believed me even a little. A surge of impulse rose in my chest, and I couldn’t help but speak. “Pedro, let’s break…” But before I could finish, Pedro pulled out a set of keys from behind and showed them off to me. “Good thing Lydia said she wanted to surprise you and already transferred the house to me, otherwise you would have lost your house!” He casually tossed the keys on my desk without another glance at me, instead urging me to transfer the money quickly. All color drained from my face. My mouth opened and closed several times before I finally found my voice, asking Pedro with a trembling voice. “You bought Lydia’s house?” Pedro nodded nonchalantly. I quickly threw the keys back. “I don’t want this house. Since you love being charitable, you keep it and live there!” Pedro’s face turned from green to white. After a long pause, he squeezed out a sentence. “We’re going to get married eventually. Can’t we just use it as our wedding house? Besides, I’m just helping a friend. Can you not be so petty?” “Hurry up and transfer the money to Lydia. Don’t delay her surgery!” I didn’t speak for a long time. Lydia dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud, raising her voice. “Dr. Betty, please give me the money! I’m waiting for this money to save my life!” “You can look down on my house, but you can’t refuse to pay after the house has been transferred! I’m waiting for this money for surgery!” Pedro chimed in, every word implying I was untrustworthy and unrighteous. The patients who had been waiting outside the door heard this and began accusing me one after another. “I don’t dare let a doctor without basic human morality treat me. Who knows if she’ll also try to take my money?” “Exactly. She can refuse to pay now. Who knows if next time, if we ask too many questions, she might deliberately prescribe the wrong medicine and kill us!” “With this kind of doctor in the hospital, I don’t dare come here for treatment anymore! Who knows if the hospital will cover for her too!” As soon as this was said, the commotion grew louder, demanding the hospital fire me. The smile on Lydia’s face gradually became smug. She held her phone in front of me, chin slightly raised, signaling me to pay. I straightened my clothes and calmly opened the recording on my phone. “From beginning to end, I never agreed to your request to buy the house, nor did I say I would buy it. Why should I pay?” “Just because your family is poor doesn’t mean you can morally blackmail people here, right? If everyone else follows your example, wouldn’t I have to buy everyone’s house?” The noisy hallway suddenly fell silent.

Lydia’s eyes reddened. “Betty, I know you’re worried other patients will follow my example, which is why you kept refusing me, but now the keys are in your hands. Stop denying it!” Pedro also echoed her, telling me to just admit it. He smiled confidently, as if as long as he spoke, I would definitely compromise. I sneered. “Dream on!” Pedro’s face instantly darkened. He slapped me across the face. “Betty, the money’s already been given. Can you stop being so unreasonable?” “I’m telling you, today you’re taking this house whether you want to or not!” “Lydia already transferred it to your name. You have no right to refuse!” I covered my face, watching them determined to force the house on me, and my thoughts drifted. In my previous life, when I was diagnosed with cancer, it was already late-stage. The director lamented that if only I had discovered it earlier, it wouldn’t have been untreatable. But I had never shown any symptoms. Could it really be late-stage cancer? Suddenly, my phone rang. It was the director sending me my test results. “Betty, you’re perfectly healthy. I think you’ve just been overworked lately, imagining you have cancer. Just get more rest.” The weight in my heart lifted. But the next second, a deeper confusion welled up. If I didn’t have cancer, then what about the late-stage cancer in my previous life? I pretended to stay calm and looked up at Pedro with a smile. “Since you both insist I take the house, I’ll take it.” Just as their expressions relaxed, I changed my tone. “However… put the house in your name. After all, you paid for it with your money. It’s only reasonable to put it in your name.” Pedro’s expression stiffened, his eyes evasive. “This house was mortgaged using your identity information. I can’t change it to my name.” He paused, his tone changing from humble to righteous. “We’re going to be family anyway. Just write off this money!” In my previous life, when he used all my savings as compensation for Lydia, he said the same thing. “Everything I’m doing is atoning for your sins. Why are you so ungrateful?” “Betty, you owe Lydia. You can never repay her in this lifetime! Let alone this little money!” Thinking of this, I couldn’t contain my anger anymore. I kicked Pedro’s knee. “You used my identity to get a mortgage to buy your best friend’s house? Since you love outsourcing charity, why don’t you take the house and the mortgage?” “You can afford the house money! Either put the house in your name, or…” I paused and turned to Lydia with a smile. “Return every cent of the bank transfer to me! I don’t care whether your surgery happens or not.” Hearing this, Pedro turned his face away without a word. But Lydia cried breathlessly. “Betty, you’re making such a fuss because you think my house is dirty! I’m sick, but my house isn’t sick!” “If I die, will you accept my house? Then I’ll satisfy you!” With that, Lydia ran quickly toward the window and, with force, climbed onto the windowsill, preparing to jump.

In an instant, the entire hallway filled with successive cries of alarm and blame. “It’s just using your identity to get a mortgage to buy a friend’s house. You’re going to get married eventually. What’s wrong with family members taking on a mortgage? The house is in your name anyway.” “Exactly! To prove her house is clean, she’s about to jump to her death. Are you satisfied now?” “If I were you, I would have accepted the house long ago! Such good fortune falls in your lap, you should be thrilled!” Pedro glared at me and pushed me aside hard, catching Lydia around the waist. Seeing her safe, Pedro breathed a sigh of relief. He turned and berated me. “This house is tied to Lydia’s life. You’re just losing some money and taking on debt, but Lydia is losing her life!” “Even if you really don’t want this house, you shouldn’t force Lydia to return the money! Don’t you know you can sell it yourself?” Hearing this, Lydia’s crying, which had been subsiding, grew louder again. She grabbed Pedro’s hand, crying breathlessly, shaking her head repeatedly. “You can’t let Dr. Betty sell it. I’ll only give my house to her. I won’t agree to anyone else.” “I don’t have much time left. Please just grant me this last wish!” I looked around. Everyone wanted to tear me apart and devour me. Since Lydia insisted I accept the house, I wanted to see what was so important about this house that she had to force it on me! After thinking it through, I stopped resisting and agreed to take the house. Seeing my agreement, Lydia immediately stopped crying. She blinked and made a request hesitantly. “Dr. Betty, I’m glad you don’t mind. But I want to see you move in with my own eyes…” Before she finished, Pedro agreed on my behalf. “Whatever conditions you state, whether it’s a thousand or ten thousand, Betty will agree!” Lydia’s eyes lit up, immediately pushing further. “Then Dr. Betty, I want to receive videos from you every day showing you living there, just to satisfy my attachment to the house.” “I won’t watch much. I just want to see you sleeping, to feel like I’m experiencing it with you.” But she still wasn’t satisfied and continued, demanding that Pedro and I sleep in the same room. But I had to sleep on the bed while Pedro slept on the floor. I agreed through gritted teeth, but became more guarded. Now Lydia laughed outright, eagerly pulling me toward the hospital exit, saying she wanted to help me move. Watching Pedro move my luggage into the master bedroom, Lydia’s tightly clenched hands finally relaxed. She smiled while helping me organize things, her instructions never stopping. “Dr. Betty, I bought this bed at a high price. It guarantees high-quality sleep. You must use it well!” “Especially this mattress, it’s a matching set with the bed, and it fits perfectly. Don’t change it unless necessary.” I nodded carelessly, paying no attention to her words. Before leaving, Lydia, pale-faced, repeated those words again. She paused, as if kindly reminding me. “Dr. Betty, you should pay more attention to your health lately. What if you also get cancer? Don’t be like me, only discovering it so late. If you feel any discomfort, make sure to get checked immediately.” My heart surged with alarm. How did Lydia know I would get cancer? But the next second, remembering the test results on the report, my heart settled. My gaze unconsciously swept over the walls and furniture, everything looking freshly renovated. A suspicion arose in my mind. Could my cancer be related to this house? I carefully recalled Lydia’s behavior in forcing the house on me and her parting words. I became increasingly certain there was something wrong with the house. I called in professionals to test the entire house for formaldehyde, but the result showed zero formaldehyde, nothing wrong with the house. To verify my suspicion, I took tools and searched every corner of the house, but found nothing. Just as I was puzzled, I suddenly remembered my best friend’s earlier joke. “Sleeping in a sick patient’s bed, aren’t you afraid of bad luck? There might be a curse.” At the time, I laughed at her superstition, but this sentence awakened me. What if it really was a problem with the bed? My gaze slowly fell on that bed, and I yanked the mattress off onto the floor. Looking at what was revealed under the mattress, I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. I finally understood how Lydia’s late-stage cancer disappeared!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “374551”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I flew two thousand miles to surprise my wife. Instead, I was greeted with an invitation. “Welcome to the wedding of Mr. Xavier Grant and Ms. Mara Cole.” Her groom wasn’t me. But her wedding dress was one I had chosen, and the wedding plan was one I had designed. When she saw me, she accused me of not knowing when to let go, claiming it was all just business. Does a performance require passionate kissing? I didn’t argue. I just turned around and took a hard drive with me. It contained all the original design drafts I’d created for them over the past four years. What Mara didn’t know was that three months later, at a bidding presentation, she’d be on her knees in the snow, bankrupt, begging me for ten dollars just to buy a meal. Lucas POV To surprise my wife, I flew to the island without telling her. The taxi had barely stopped when the hotel’s greeting system sent me a text message: “Welcome to the wedding of Mr. Xavier Grant and Ms. Mara Cole.” My hand froze around the gift box. Mara Cole was my legal wife of four years in a secret marriage. Xavier Grant was her first love from college overseas, and also the star designer at my studio. Just last night, Mara had been packing her luggage. “I’ll be inspecting resort projects for a while. The clients are difficult to deal with, so I can’t get away. I’ll make up for our anniversary properly when I get back.” She complained that Xavier was clumsy and needed her to look after him. I believed her. Like an idiot, I helped her organize her clothes and told her she was working hard. She was working hard, hard enough to organize a grand wedding between inspections. I stepped into the lobby. White veils billowed in the cold sea breeze. The décor looked very familiar. A month ago, I’d stayed up three nights straight in my study to draw up this exact plan. At the time, Mara had leaned against the doorframe, holding coffee and pleading with me. “The client wants a dream wedding. Xavier’s run out of inspiration. Help him out.” I joked that this design was worth fifty thousand dollars. She hugged me and acted cute. “Helping him is helping me.” Turns out I was the free wedding planner for her own wedding. “Sir, do you have an invitation?” The receptionist stopped me. I was wearing a hoodie and jeans, carrying a small box, completely out of place among the suited guests around me. “I’m an old friend of Mara’s.” The receptionist stepped aside. The banquet hall was brilliantly lit. Mara wore a mermaid-cut wedding gown and looked so beautiful she seemed like a stranger. We’d been legally married for four years, but we’d never had a wedding or any celebration. The reason was that we had to keep a low profile during the startup phase, and I was behind-the-scenes personnel who didn’t need formalities. Right now, she stood under the spotlight, gazing at the man across from her like he was the only one in the world. Xavier Grant, nothing but an empty-headed pretty boy, spoke with deep affection. “Mara, we’ve missed so much. Today, I can finally hold your hand in front of our friends and family…” Applause thundered. Guests murmured about what a perfect couple they made, praising Xavier’s so-called brilliance. Some even claimed the island project was his work. My nails dug into my palms. Every award Xavier had ever won was something I had created. His breakthrough work was my rejected draft. His award-winning design was something I’d destroyed my stomach staying up late to finish. Even the stage beneath his feet was my creation. In the front row sat Mara’s mother, Diana, wiping away tears of joy. She took the generous support payments I sent every month, and now she sat there without a care in the world. Next to her sat my business partners, people who ate the afternoon tea I bought, now applauding as my wife married someone else. Everyone in the world knew-except me, the fool left in the dark. What inspection? What fake business marriage? All excuses. I could see it clearly: the genuine happiness radiating from Mara’s face. The officiant called out loudly, “The groom may now kiss the bride!” Mara turned her head. Her gaze cut through the crowd and landed on me. Her smile froze instantly on her face. She pushed away Xavier, who was about to kiss her, in panic. The bouquet in her hands fell to the floor. “Mara?” Xavier looked confused. Mara ignored him. She stared at me, her face deathly pale. I looked at her and expressionlessly raised the delicate gift box in my hand. Then, as she watched in horror, I let it go. The box hit the floor. The necklace inside probably broke. Just like this absurd four-year marriage. I turned and walked out of the banquet hall without looking back. Behind me came commotion and the rapid clicking of high heels on the floor. “Mara! Where are you going?” If this had been yesterday, if she had chased after me like this, I would have cried with emotion, thinking there was still a place for me in her heart. But now, I just found it ridiculous.

Lucas POV I hadn’t even reached the elevators when someone grabbed my arm hard. “Lucas! Stop right there!” Mara was out of breath, holding up her wedding dress train, her updo coming loose. There was no guilt on her face-only furious indignation. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?” I laughed bitterly. I’d caught my wife at her wedding, and her first reaction was to interrogate me. “Mara,” I looked at her like she was a stranger, “what’s today’s date?” She froze. “October sixteenth.” “Four years ago today, we registered our marriage. You said the company had something come up and left me on the side of the road. Today I flew two thousand miles to surprise you, and you gave me an even bigger surprise.” Mara’s expression stiffened for a moment, then reverted to her usual assertiveness. She straightened her hair, all business. “Can you use your brain like an adult? This is a business strategy! The clients value family values. Xavier is our brand face. For a contract worth tens of millions, we had no choice but to put on an act.” “An act requires inviting your mother? Exchanging rings? Smiling that happily?” “That’s because we had to make it realistic! How else could we fool the clients if we didn’t make it look real?” Mara raised her voice. “Who do you think I’m working myself to death out here for? It’s bad enough you don’t trust me. Now you’re sabotaging everything. If this project falls through, can you afford to compensate for it?” She was even trying to turn this around on me. “You’ve disappointed me so much. If you had even a little sense of the bigger picture, you wouldn’t cause trouble at such a critical moment.” Watching her mouth run on and on, my thoughts suddenly drifted far away. I thought back to four years ago. Back then, I was recognized as a genius in the architecture program at a university overseas. I’d won international awards before even graduating. And Mara was just an ambitious but mediocre rich girl. She started a studio but couldn’t land any projects. She cried in the rain out of desperation. I was the one who shoved the design drawings I’d labored over for half a month into her hands and told her to enter the competition. That one time made her famous overnight. Later, she said she loved me. She said I was her source of inspiration. I believed her. I gave up the opportunity to pursue advanced studies at a prestigious architectural firm for her sake, willing to be the person behind her. Over these four years, all the studio’s core proposals came from me. The credit always went to Mara or Xavier. She always said I had an introverted personality and was suited to working behind the scenes and making money. She also said Xavier had a good image, so he should be the public face. So I became the nerd who only knew how to draw. In Xavier’s words, an assistant. They took my work and accepted awards. They enjoyed the flowers and applause while I waited for her to come home with cold coffee. I thought it was sacrifice. Turns out it was just pathetic. The last trace of love in my heart went cold. I looked at that haughty expression on her face, as if she thought she controlled everything and was certain I couldn’t leave her. But what’s valuable in this industry isn’t the studio-it’s the person who creates. “Are you finished?” Mara frowned. “What’s with that attitude?” I looked at her calmly, suppressing the turmoil in my eyes. “Mara, your dress zipper isn’t closed properly.” She instinctively reached for her back. I stepped back, creating distance. “Go back. Don’t keep the groom waiting.” “You’re done making a scene?” She looked suspicious. “I’m done. Disrupting a wedding is immoral. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” I turned toward the elevator. “Go back to the room and wait for me! I’ll explain tonight!” she ordered from behind me. No need. I don’t need her love anymore either. As the elevator doors closed, I took out my phone and looked at the date on the screen. Today was our wedding anniversary. I opened my messaging app and found a contact-Chloe, my college classmate and also a divorce attorney. The last time I’d contacted her was four years ago. She’d sent me a message cursing me out back then. “Lucas, if you’re going to be someone’s ghostwriter for a woman, don’t call me your friend anymore.” I hadn’t replied at the time. My finger hovered over the screen. I took a deep breath and relied. “I’ve made up my mind. Is it still possible to pursue my dream now?” I waited a few seconds. The screen showed she was typing. Chloe only sent back a voice message. I could hear wind in the background. “Lucas, I’ve been waiting for this call for four years. Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Same old place.” I closed my phone and looked at my reflection in the elevator mirror. No one knew that my dream was to open a design studio that was truly my own. Back then, I hadn’t been worn down by life yet. All I thought about was architectural ideals. Later, I hid that dream away and had Chloe guard that small flame for me. I thought I’d never rekindle it in this lifetime. I exited the chat and casually opened my cloud storage. Inside were all the original drafts and revision records from four years of working for Mara. No matter how much I loved her, as a designer’s professional habit, I had kept the source files.

Lucas POV That same day, I went straight to the front desk to check out. I threw the carefully prepared anniversary gift into the lobby trash can. I was pulling my suitcase at the hotel entrance, about to hail a cab, when Mara chased after me. She blocked the taxi door, her face iron-gray. “Lucas, where are you going?” “Back to New York.” I opened the car door and shoved my suitcase into the back seat. “What are you throwing a fit about?” Mara lowered her voice, annoyance in her tone. “You just walk away like this-where does that leave my reputation?” I paused, then turned to look at her. “That’s your banquet, not mine.” Mara grabbed my sleeve, her nails digging into my flesh. “Lucas! When will you stop? I already told you this is just an act! I didn’t hold it against you earlier, and now you’re pushing your luck?” She took a deep breath, seemingly trying to suppress her anger. “I know you’re upset, but you need to understand my difficulties. Xavier is a public figure. The studio has relied on him as our public face these past few years. If things go wrong today, millions in prior investment will go down the drain. As a member of the company, can’t you be more mature?” Over these four years, whenever I tried to claim my rightful due, she would use “the bigger picture” to suppress me. As if my unwillingness to sacrifice made me immature and childish. I didn’t even have the desire to argue. “Mara,” my tone was calm, “I’ll have my lawyer draft divorce papers. For the specific property division, my lawyer will contact you.” Mara clearly hadn’t expected that. Her pupils contracted slightly, a flash of shock crossing her face. “Divorce?” She crossed her arms and laughed coldly. “Without me, you can’t even pay rent in New York. Your mother is still lying in a nursing home. Who’s been paying her medical bills every month? You?” One major reason I’d agreed to stay in the background was that my mother had suddenly fallen ill and urgently needed a large sum for surgery. Mara had provided that money. That was also why, no matter how much she exploited me these four years, I’d silently endured it. I felt I owed her. But she seemed to have forgotten that over these four years, the drawings I’d produced, the projects that won bids, the value I’d created had long surpassed those medical fees. “That’s none of your concern.” I opened the car door and got in. “This divorce is final.” Seeing I was serious, Mara’s expression finally changed. Her eyes turned vicious. “Lucas, don’t regret this! According to the prenup, you won’t get a single cent of the studio’s shares! Since you want to make a scene, fine-make one! When you calm down and can’t afford medicine, don’t come crawling back to me!” She pulled a document folder from her bag and slammed it onto the passenger seat. “I was going to let you rest on the island for a couple days, but since you want to leave, go back and work! The Brooklyn library project-final draft is due next week.” “Xavier will be entertaining clients these next few days and won’t have time to draw. Go back and finish the proposal. If you don’t do it right, don’t blame me when your mother’s medication gets cut off next month!” I looked at the folder on the passenger seat. This was a key city project-also critical to whether Mara’s studio could go public this year. At a time like this, she could still take for granted dumping work on me and threatening me with my mother’s life. I picked up the document folder. Outside the car, Mara looked at me with contempt, probably thinking I’d compromised for the money. “After you finish this project, I’ll transfer fifty thousand dollars as your closing fee. Driver, go!” She slammed the car door for me, then turned and walked away without looking back. The car started. I opened the folder and pulled out the materials inside. This was a project costing over a hundred million dollars. The design requirements were extremely high. Xavier had struggled with it for two months without getting approval. The client had already issued an ultimatum. If I walked away now, I could vent my anger temporarily, but I’d lose all claim to the four years of work I’d put in and the benefits I deserved. Besides, a simple divorce agreement wouldn’t be enough to completely bring them down. I needed evidence. That evidence was all on the company’s internal network, in Mara’s safe. I had to go back. Not only that. I had to make this project absolutely flawless. Because only if they thought I was still under their control would they reveal their weaknesses. “Sir, to the airport, right?” the driver asked carefully. “That earlier… was that a fight?” I resealed the folder and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. “No fight.” I said calmly, “To the airport.”

Lucas POV Three days after returning to the company, I clocked in on time. The office was covered in banners, and the front desk displayed a poster of Xavier and Mara kissing on the island. Several female colleagues huddled together sharing chocolates, their conversation loud. “Mara and Xavier have such a great relationship.” “The island wedding cost two million dollars. They really know how to spend.” I walked through the crowd toward my corner workstation. My spot was next to the printer, my desk piled with discarded paper. No one paid attention to me. “Lucas is here?” Derek walked over holding a box of chocolates and casually tossed it onto my keyboard. “Mara said everyone gets a share. Brought back from the island. A few hundred bucks a box.” I didn’t look at the chocolates. I pressed the power button on my computer. Seeing I wouldn’t engage, Derek turned to the female colleague beside him and raised his voice. “Some people are just born to do grunt work. We eat souvenirs while they have to work.” Laughter rippled around me. I logged into the company’s internal network. Derek was Xavier’s assistant. I ignored him. I opened the Brooklyn Library folder. The initial draft inside was logically chaotic and completely unusable. Obviously Xavier couldn’t handle the client and dumped this mess on me. I turned off the auto-sync function and changed the file path to my private network drive. This time, the company wouldn’t have backup copies of the source files. “How’s the proposal coming?” Mara’s voice came from behind me. The room instantly went quiet. Colleagues lowered their heads. Mara stood by my workstation, staring at my screen. “Just started.” I answered. “Hurry up.” She tapped the desk. “Friday presentation. Xavier has a sore throat, so you’ll present.” In the past, Xavier always handled these occasions while I assisted from below. Having me go this time-I guessed the project was too difficult and Xavier was afraid of exposing himself. “Got it.” Mara pointed at the chocolates on my keyboard. “Why aren’t you eating them? You think they’re beneath you?” “I don’t like them.” She sneered and turned to leave, but stopped after two steps. “My mom’s sixtieth birthday banquet is this weekend. If the proposal passes, I’ll let you make an appearance.” Attending Diana’s birthday party as her legal spouse had become a reward. “No need,” I looked at the screen. “I’m busy.” Mara’s expression darkened. “Suit yourself.” She clicked away in her heels into the general manager’s office. Ten minutes later, Xavier arrived. He walked straight to my workstation, bent down, and lowered his voice. “Did you watch the whole thing that day? My wedding was pretty good, wasn’t it? Thanks for the rough draft.” I stopped my mouse and turned to look at him, mockery in my voice. “It was good.” Xavier looked triumphant and straightened up. “Work hard. That’s the only place you’re useful.” He patted my shoulder, whistling as he walked away. I pulled out a tissue, wiped the spot on my shoulder he’d touched, and tossed the crumpled tissue into the wastebasket by my feet.

Lucas POV I went to the break room with my water cup. Derek was leaning against the coffee machine, holding a half-eaten box of gift chocolates. When he saw me come in, he shifted to block the doorway. “Lucas,” he looked me up and down, “I heard you went to the island? Why didn’t you go in for a drink before coming back?” I walked around him to get water. Derek followed, leaning against the water dispenser. “Stop pretending. Everyone in the company knows you have a crush on Mara. Look at yourself. Xavier is an overseas student-he’s got talent and looks. You’re just meant to draw. It’s complete wishful thinking.” The water overfilled and some spilled, scalding my hand. I ignored him and turned to leave. Derek called out loudly behind me. “Stop having these inappropriate thoughts. They’re a perfect match. People like you can only be background decoration.” Back at my workstation, Xavier was sitting on my desk. He was holding an architectural model in his hand. It was a small model I’d carved by hand the year I first joined the studio, given to Mara as a birthday gift. Later, Mara thought it was tacky and casually tossed it in the company’s junk pile. I picked it back up and kept it in the corner of my desk. Xavier was playing with it, disgust on his face. “What is this piece of junk?” He looked at me as I walked back. “Lucas, your taste has always been this terrible. Having something like this on the desk lowers the class of the entire studio.” I put down my water cup and reached for it. “Give it back.” Xavier raised his hand, dodging me. A smile played at the corner of his mouth. His wrist relaxed, and the model dropped into the trash can by his feet. “No need to thank me.” He dusted off his hands and jumped down from the desk. “I’m just helping you clear out the garbage. From now on, only keep work-related things on your desk. Don’t clutter it with this nonsense.” Low laughter came from around us. Xavier straightened his collar, didn’t even glance at me, and walked away.

Lucas POV At three in the afternoon, my phone rang. I walked to the window at the end of the hallway to answer. “Lucas,” my mother’s voice was a bit weak, “it’s getting cold these days. You and Mara need to take care of yourselves.” I gripped the phone tightly. “I know. How are you feeling?” “I’m fine. I just miss you both. Has Mara been busy lately? If she is, don’t make her come see me. You young people need to focus on your careers.” My mother was always like this, afraid of causing me trouble. I was about to speak when I heard the sound of high heels behind me. Mara was walking out of the elevator with her arm linked through Xavier’s, followed by several administrative staff who’d just finished a meeting. She saw me. I saw her too. Mara stopped, her gaze sweeping over the phone in my hand, a playful expression crossing her face. She didn’t avoid the situation. She turned to Xavier and said, “Xavier, this weekend is my mom’s birthday party. It’s your first time attending as my partner. I’ve already prepared your gift. You need to make a good impression.” Her voice echoed in the empty hallway. Silence on the other end of the phone. A few seconds later, my mother’s puzzled voice came through. “Lucas? Was that Mara’s voice just now? What is she saying about a partner? What first time?” I felt blood rushing to my head. Mara stood not far away and tightened her grip on Xavier’s arm. Xavier smiled cooperatively. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your mom is satisfied.” “Lucas? What’s going on? Is Mara talking to someone else?” My mother’s voice grew anxious. I took a deep breath and turned away. “It’s nothing. She’s rehearsing lines. The company has a theater activity recently.” “Oh, you scared me. I thought…” “I have a meeting. I have to go.” Without waiting for my mother to say more, I hung up directly. Behind me came the sound of Mara and Xavier’s laughter. They walked into the elevator. I looked at the darkened phone screen, my fingers gripping it until my knuckles turned white. I put away my phone and turned back to the office. The progress bar on my computer had just finished. File transfer complete. Mara, I’m going to give you a gift you’ll never forget.

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I used to believe that after fifteen years of growing up together, he would be my only destiny. Until I saw him put his student’s name where mine should have been on our marriage papers. Scholarships, favoritism, trust. He gave them all to someone else. He even let me be falsely accused, my future destroyed. That’s when I realized I was never his first choice. So I turned around, went abroad, and reclaimed my dreams. Later, when I stood at the peak of success, he came to me, saying he regretted everything. But my new husband pulled me close. “You didn’t choose her back then. Now it’s not your turn anymore.” Iris Hart POV After winning six consecutive international awards, the name “Sebastian Kane” became legendary in academic circles. At only twenty-five, he wasn’t just Stanford University’s youngest professor. He’d also claimed the highest honor in academia. The day his fame skyrocketed, he posted a photo of us holding our marriage license application, captioned “Soulmates finally united.” Before I could even share it, I scrolled down and saw a comment that made my heart stop. “Sebastian’s getting married, but the county clerk sent ME the notice. Now that’s love!” The replies flooded in. “Maybe YOU’RE his true love?” “Sebastian’s handwritten over thirty thousand experimental data points, accurate to eight decimal places without a single error. Yet on the most important form of his life, the one where you list an emergency contact for marriage, he put YOUR name.” “You two should just go get married already!” I looked closer at the username. The poster was none other than Sebastian’s intern, River Lawson. Afterward, Sebastian explained it was just an accident. I believed him. But not long after, he turned around and gave the only full-ride graduate scholarship to River. Then he pulled me aside to apologize. “I’m sorry, Iris. River grew up in poverty. If this application fails, she’ll never have another chance to get ahead in life.” He gripped my hand tightly, his eyes full of guilt. “But I’m also thinking about us. Even if you never achieve anything, you’re still the one I love.” The next day, River-the supposedly excellent student Sebastian praised-secretly reported me to the school for academic fraud, got my graduation status revoked, and had me ordered to withdraw. When they want to pin something on you, they’ll always find a reason. During the long investigation period, my heart grew colder and colder. I’d worked every single moment to keep up with Sebastian’s pace. But in the end, the full scholarship was gone, my dream of studying abroad shattered, and even basic graduation became uncertain. Gradually, I understood-I was no longer Sebastian’s first priority. If that was the case, then I chose to let them have each other. In my moment of deepest despair, my advisor threw me a lifeline. “I can fund your study in France, on the condition that you join my research team. But… are you really ready to leave everything behind and go abroad?” “I’m willing.” In the dead silence of night, I heard my own resolute answer. My father, Marcus, and mother, Elena, had always been open-minded-they would support my decision without hesitation. I had nothing to worry about. As for Sebastian… perhaps our fate ended here. I still remembered meeting Sebastian when I was six years old. He’d been quiet and withdrawn since childhood, guarded around everyone-except me. He was willing to open up to me, even if just a little. Sebastian’s father, Richard, and mother, Caroline, were always busy with work, often leaving him at my house. The two of us grew closer over time. In middle school, he waited downstairs for me every day before and after school. In high school, he carefully organized study notes just for me. In college, he kept up the habit of having breakfast with me every morning. Everyone said we were made for each other. I believed it too. At least, I believed it until River appeared. At first, Sebastian kept his distance from this clingy intern. But then one day, River single-handedly solved a math problem left behind by an old professor. Though I couldn’t see much reaction from him, I noticed he gradually stopped pushing her away when she followed him around. We’d fought about this intern several times. He always said he just recognized talent and couldn’t bear to see a genius buried. Whether it was really about recognizing talent or something else, I didn’t want to guess anymore. The truth behind it all was probably something only he knew. The engagement photos were already taken, and the marriage registration was still just scheduled-everything could still be undone. “I’ll have the application process completed within a month.” The person on the other end of the call was satisfied with the answer and hung up in good spirits. I didn’t sleep all night. Early the next morning, Sebastian knocked on my door. “There are a lot of wedding details we haven’t finalized. Richard and Caroline invited Marcus and Elena to dinner together, and they asked me to pick you up.” I instinctively tried to decline. “Actually, I can’t today…” “Marcus and Elena are already there.” He cut me off, gently taking my hand as he always did, his usually expressionless face now wearing a tender smile. I’d once been captivated by that smile for so long. Unfortunately, it no longer belonged to me alone. Inside the Kane house, Caroline warmly welcomed me and sat me down, casually calling out, “The pizza and roast in the oven are almost ready-Sebastian, go check on them!” Sebastian headed straight into the kitchen. His phone suddenly started ringing nonstop. I glanced at it and caught sight of the glaring name “River Lawson” on the screen. At the dinner table, both sets of parents were chatting happily when the shrill phone ringtone cut through the harmonious atmosphere again. Sebastian answered the call, his expression instantly changing. “I’m sorry, Marcus, Elena. Something urgent came up at school. I need to go.” My instincts told me it wasn’t that simple. After making an excuse to leave the table, I secretly followed him. Then I watched Sebastian enter the back warehouse of a convenience store. River was wearing a dirty work uniform. The moment she saw him, she rushed over eagerly but accidentally tripped on something. She fell straight into his arms, and their lips happened to touch. He didn’t pull away. They both froze in that moment, their eyes locked for what felt like forever.

Iris Hart POV My face went pale as I stared at the scene, frozen. My heart suddenly felt like it had cracked open, cold wind pouring into the fissure, chilling me until I couldn’t stop trembling. River quickly jumped up, her face flushed as she lowered her head, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You… how did you get here? Didn’t you say you had something really important today?” Sebastian ruffled her hair, his voice helpless yet indulgent. “It’s nothing major. You said you were hurt-let me see how bad it is.” River deliberately hid her right hand behind her back. “It’s nothing, nothing-just a small cut.” Sebastian caught sight of the wound on her finger and pulled a Band-Aid from his bag, crouching down to carefully apply it for her. I couldn’t help but think of the past. I used to get bumps and scrapes all the time as a kid. At some point, Sebastian had made it a habit to always carry Band-Aids in his pocket. He’d once told me they were exclusively mine. But now… I felt dazed and instinctively stepped back, accidentally kicking something. They both looked over at once. I turned and ran. “Iris!” He caught up to me, breathless, and we both stopped at the same time. I didn’t turn around, just listened to him scramble to explain. “It’s not what you think. That was just an accident.” “I know.” I took a deep breath, staring hard at the ground. He seemed flustered. “Iris, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was just afraid you’d be upset if you found out.” I turned around, my expression calm. “I just happened to pass by. I’m not upset. Where you go is your freedom.” River had also caught up, looking at me cautiously. Sebastian seemed afraid I’d scold her and quickly stepped in front of her. “Now that we’ve cleared up the misunderstanding, let me take you home.” I didn’t want to keep arguing, so I nodded. “River, you should head home early too.” He turned back to tell her. She smiled bitterly and shook her head. “Sebastian, you two go ahead. I still have goods to move. If I’m not done by ten tonight, my supervisor will dock my pay.” Sebastian’s brow furrowed in displeasure. “You’re new part-time staff-why are they making you do all this?!” “I can only blame myself for being poor.” She wiped away tears and started heading back to the warehouse, but Sebastian grabbed her wrist. “I’ll help you move them.” He said to me, “Iris, go home and rest early. Don’t wait up for me.” Watching him walk away side by side with River without a second thought, I just stood there, looking more and more alone. Most of the streetlights in the old district were broken. The road was dark and cold. I walked alone, shivering. Suddenly, I heard a low growl. A large dog was baring its teeth at me, staring me down. Fear made my legs weak. I turned and ran. A sharp pain shot through my calf, and blood started running down. A kind stranger helped drive the vicious dog away. By the time I dragged my injured leg to the district hospital, dawn was nearly breaking. After getting the rabies vaccine, I turned my phone back on. Missed calls and messages started popping up one after another. I silently turned off the screen and closed my eyes. “Iris! Iris!” A familiar voice rang out. I thought I was dreaming. When I opened my eyes, it really was Sebastian’s anxious face.

Iris Hart POV “I saw your phone location and rushed over. How did you get hurt?” I didn’t even lift my head, my tone light and casual. “Couldn’t get a cab in the old district. Got bitten by a stray dog on the road.” Hearing this, his eyes immediately reddened, full of heartache and guilt. “I should’ve thought of that. I’m so sorry.” “I’m fine.” My tone remained calm. A few days later, after I’d fully recovered, Sebastian showed up uninvited, carrying something. He handed me an elegant gift bag with a hint of flattery. “I was wrong the other day. Maybe looking at a plant will cheer you up.” I opened it to find a pot of mint. A sharp pain suddenly pierced through my chest. He’d always had an exceptional memory-how could he forget I was allergic to mint? Seeing my silence, he assumed I was still angry. He pulled out two tickets. “The zoo you wanted to visit-I managed to get tickets. Let’s go right now, okay?” Without waiting for me to refuse, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. When we got to the zoo entrance and I saw River getting out of the car, I turned to leave. He gripped my hand tightly. “I asked a friend to get the tickets and they happened to have two extras. I just didn’t want them to go to waste.” Using the excuse of accompanying me to the zoo, his eyes never left River. After a few exhibits, they were practically glued together. Watching them, they looked like a couple madly in love, while I was just an outsider. At the bird show area, the host was introducing albatrosses. “Once they choose the right mate, they stay together for life! Now let’s pick some audience members to participate!” The spotlight landed on River. She looked at Sebastian hesitantly. “Sebastian, I’m too scared to go up alone. Can you come with me?” He glanced at me briefly, then took her hand and went onstage. The host assumed they were a couple and had them complete challenges: staring into each other’s eyes for ten seconds, eating cookies, and the final task-a kiss. Amid the cheering crowd, Sebastian pressed his hand against her head and kissed her. My nails dug deep into my palms. My heart felt like it was being sliced with a knife. The air tasted unbearably bitter. When the crowd dispersed, he stopped me. “With so many people watching, if I’d just left her there, people would’ve talked about her.” I didn’t say anything more and headed to the next exhibit. He nervously followed, trying to apologize. Suddenly, screams erupted nearby. An escaped brown bear was charging toward the crowd, swinging its massive paws. I was pushed back by the surging crowd and suddenly lost my footing. River and I both fell into the artificial lake at the same time! Sebastian reached out his hand and swam toward me with all his might. “Sebastian!” A shout made him freeze mid-motion. He instinctively changed direction and swam toward River instead. The icy lake water swallowed me. I struggled desperately, staring hard at his retreating back as I gradually lost consciousness. My body felt heavy as lead. When I opened my eyes, I saw him with red-rimmed eyes, gripping my hand. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault for not taking better care of you.” I thought he was going to explain why he’d abandoned me to save her, but he carefully avoided the subject, not saying a word about it. His phone vibrated frantically. “Excuse me, do you still have fever medicine in stock?” It was River’s weak voice on the other end. “River?” “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I called the wrong number trying to buy medicine.” She hung up in panic. Sebastian, usually so composed, immediately panicked. He glanced at me a few times before standing up. “River’s home alone. I’m afraid she…” “Go ahead.” My face was pale, but my expression remained calm. Watching him leave without hesitation, I was consumed by grief. He used to feel heartbroken for half a day just seeing me frown. Now he could abandon me without a second thought, even when I was seriously injured.

Iris Hart POV On the day I was discharged from the hospital, I unexpectedly received an invitation from my advisor. An opportunity to attend an academic summit. I became part of the setup crew for the venue. As soon as I walked in, I saw River all dressed up, along with Sebastian. “Iris?” When he saw me, his smile stiffened. He quickly lowered his voice. “When did you get discharged? Why didn’t you tell me so I could pick you up?” I pushed his hand away. “It’s fine. Go do what you need to do.” A shriek came from nearby. River screamed and stood up. Her arms were covered in red welts. “I think I’m having an allergic reaction.” I turned to look. Sebastian, ignoring everyone’s stares, scooped River up in his arms and rushed out. The venue fell silent. People whispered to each other, some even casting pitying glances my way. My cheeks burned with shame as I quickly left. I’d barely gotten home when Sebastian showed up at my door. He glared at me, his face full of anger. “With so many people at the venue, how is it that she was the only one who had an allergic reaction to that chair?!” “What are you implying?” My brow furrowed. “You’re one of the people in charge of setup. This has to be connected to you!” My heart trembled. I couldn’t believe it. “You’re accusing me?!” Fifteen years together, and he was actually accusing me over something completely fabricated. River, who’d been hiding behind him, stepped forward timidly. “Just forget it. I’m sure Iris didn’t mean it.” “River, you’re too kind. That’s why you think everyone else is kind too!” His anger intensified. I laughed coldly. So in his eyes, I was malicious? He grabbed my wrist tightly and dragged me all the way to the venue to confront me. When he finally let go, my wrist was already covered in bruises. “The summit still has one more day! I want you to replace every single chair tonight with something River isn’t allergic to.” “I refuse.” I stared at him, enunciating each word. He nodded as if driven to the edge. “If you don’t replace them, believe me, I’ll throw this ring away right now.” The moment I saw him hold up the ring, my expression changed. That was the ring my grandmother had left me as a wedding blessing. And he was using it to threaten me! My heart turned to ash. Under their watchful eyes, I pathetically hauled out a thousand chairs and replaced them with a new batch from storage. After I finished arranging them, he finally let me go. “I have one more condition. Give me back the ring,” he said. “No problem. It’s just a ring. But if there’s a next time, we’re calling off the marriage license.” I clutched the ring, my palm aching. There won’t be a next time. We’ve already canceled it. Sebastian, I will never love you again. I’ll be leaving soon.

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The night before the wedding, my fiancé Damien told me about a wedding custom from his hometown. The bride must cross over a burning brazier without wearing underwear, or she would offend the gods and bring disaster. I agreed reluctantly, thinking of him. Until the wedding day, when Nina suddenly lifted my skirt and shouted with a laugh. “Everyone come look! I knew she wasn’t wearing anything underneath!” “Elara, I was just making a bet with friends about whether you’d wear underwear. You’re not mad, are you?” I was utterly humiliated and knocked the camera from her hands. But Damien immediately shielded Nina behind him, laughing without a care: “Elara, it’s April Fools’ Day. Everyone’s just joking with you.” “The astrologer said I’d have bad luck this year unless someone caused a scene at my wedding. You understand, don’t you?” I laughed bitterly. But he didn’t know that before being recognized by the billionaire Hartley family, I had gained a supernatural ability — whatever lies I told would come true. Just then, a large truck careened out of control toward Damien.

At the last second, Damien barely dodged, avoiding being crushed to a pulp. But he acted like nothing happened, reaching to put his arm around my waist. “Come on, Nina didn’t mean it. Don’t take it to heart.” I calmly stepped back twice, dodging his hand. “Don’t touch me!” “Damien, did the astrologer really say that?” The atmosphere instantly froze. Damien frowned slightly, his tone becoming a bit impatient. “Does it really matter whether it’s true or false? Why do you keep harping on this?” “Nina has depression, but you stole everything that belonged to her, causing her depression to flare up until she almost committed suicide.” “She’s never blamed you. It was just an April Fools’ joke. Do you need to get this angry?” Watching him smile as he picked up the camera and returned it to Nina, I sneered. “Depression?” “You think I’ll still believe that?” My gaze fell with interest on Nina’s young, pretty face. Her complexion was rosy, her eyes bright and alert. Where was even half a sign of depression severe enough for suicide? Damien stiffened, apparently not expecting me to be so direct, then showed just the right amount of grievance. “Elara, this is all true!” “Nina really has depression. If she gets too emotional, she’ll go into shock!” At that moment, Nina’s jealous gaze fell on my wedding dress, her face full of dissatisfaction. “Damien! Why are you explaining so much to her!” “If it weren’t for your grandfather insisting you marry the real Hartley heiress, why would you marry her?” I couldn’t help but laugh. I said nothing. No wonder when someone lifted my skirt and took embarrassing photos, Damien didn’t care, acting like nothing had happened. Then everyone who owed me, everyone who bullied me, should pay the price! I turned, meeting Damien’s gaze, and asked with a smile: “I’ll ask you one last time. Will she really go into shock?” Whether Damien was lying, I would soon know. But before he could answer, Nina beside him looked impatient, pointing at my nose and saying sarcastically: “How ridiculous! You haven’t even married into the Sinclair family yet and you’re already so paranoid! Would Damien actually lie to you?” Damien nodded, agreeing: “Nina’s right. The doctor warned her not to get emotionally excited. If her condition acts up, she might go into shock…” Before he finished speaking. “Ah —” Nina’s mocking face suddenly trembled. Nina collapsed abruptly, her face visibly turning deathly pale, her whole body convulsing. “Nina!” Damien’s eyes widened instantly, panicking. The scene became chaotic. I looked at Damien, sneering inwardly. “Today is April Fools’ Day. Maybe Nina is just messing with us. Don’t make such a fuss.” Since you deceived me first, I need not show mercy. Let your words come true!

Damien froze in his steps. “Elara, I promised I’d marry you. There’s no need to go after Nina.” I smiled gently. “Damien, you seem to have gotten something wrong. It’s not that I’m desperate to marry you.” Damien looked confused. That handsome face so close to mine looked at me with slightly trembling eyelashes, tenderness nearly overflowing from his eyes. I lifted his chin, laughing softly. “It’s the Sinclair family begging me to marry down to you, to facilitate a business alliance between the Sinclairs and Hartleys. I also hope you can be loyal, not lie to me, and not disappoint me.” Damien stayed by hospitalized Nina’s side day and night. I was happy to have the peace and quiet. However, after Nina was discharged. She completely changed from her usual arrogant demeanor, bringing cake to my door to apologize. I frowned. I didn’t need to guess to know the cake contained chocolate that would cause me to go into anaphylactic shock. I pretended everything was normal, smiling as I accepted the cake. Perfect. Let her experience the taste of her own medicine. My nose filled with the scent of chocolate. I asked, knowing full well: “Is this mango cake? I love it!” Nina paused, then smiled in agreement. “Of course! It’s definitely mango flavored!” “Hurry and try it. It tastes amazing!” I took a deep breath and cut a large piece, handing it to her first. Nina quickly took a big bite, as if proving her sincerity. Seeing me hesitate, she asked with reddened eyes: “This mango cake is delicious. Won’t Elara eat any? Are you still unwilling to forgive me?” I curved my lips slightly. Nina had nearly gone into shock from secretly eating mangoes as a child. How could she not know she was allergic to mangoes? Heaven has a road but you won’t take it. Hell has no gate but you insist on breaking in! Then I’ll play along! Before long, Nina suddenly clutched her stomach, looking like she wanted to cry but couldn’t, more like a stubborn little white flower. “Elara!” She opened her mouth trembling. “Even if you’re jealous that I’ve had parents who loved me since childhood, you can’t poison me! If I hadn’t eaten so little, I’d be dead here today!!” Damien rushed over at the sound. He held the disfigured Nina, looking at me with undisguised disgust. “Elara Hartley, don’t you know Nina is allergic to mangoes? When did you become so… vicious??” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at her mouth running off like that. She knows she’s allergic to mangoes but still eats it? Isn’t she looking for death? Maybe her depression is acting up again and she’s seeking death? Call the police quickly, don’t let her die in my house!” I scoffed, not looking at her pig-liver-colored face, leisurely pulling out my phone. Nina bit her lower lip, looking like she was making a noble sacrifice. “Don’t call the police!” Seeing me completely unharmed and even mockingly taunting her, a flash of hatred crossed her eyes. She said through gritted teeth: “Even if she’s jealous of our childhood friendship, I can’t call the police. That would ruin the Hartley family’s reputation…” Looking at the red rash on her arms and neck, Damien frowned slightly, his gaze falling on the cake on the table. “Nina is still being generous, but didn’t you buy a chocolate cake?” Hearing this, I quickly stopped Damien from taking Nina to the hospital, pretending to be shocked. “What chocolate?” “She clearly said it was mango cake!” “Damien, don’t you know I’m severely allergic to chocolate?” Damien coughed lightly, explaining helplessly: “Elara, you can’t blame this all on Nina! She didn’t know you were allergic to chocolate.” “Besides, you’re fine. Nothing happened…” “Damien.” I looked up into his eyes. “Are you blind?” “She lifted my skirt to humiliate me, and now she sends me chocolate cake to make me go into shock!” “Damien, my patience has limits too.” Damien said nothing. The atmosphere instantly returned to silence. I was too lazy to figure out his true feelings. After all, it was Damien who would marry only me, not that I could only marry him. Watching Damien drive away with Nina, I gently swirled the wine glass in my hand. I wondered if they’d still be able to smile after going to the hospital. I took a hot shower and turned off my phone to avoid being bombarded with calls. Just as I drifted into sleep, the bedside lamp suddenly blazed on. Then, a man’s roar woke me up. Damien gripped his phone tightly, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been calling until I nearly broke my phone! And you’re still in the mood to sleep! Nina’s face is ruined! Do you know that?” I rubbed my eyes and looked up to see Nina’s face covered in red rashes, swollen like a pig’s head.

With just one look, I was nearly scared off the bed. In the dim light, Nina’s face was wrapped in bandages, the exposed skin festering with not a single patch of good flesh. She stood before the bed, looking at me with extremely vicious eyes, as if wanting to tear me to pieces. Damien gently pulled her into his arms, turned to look at me, his face instantly livid. He called his lawyer, saying he would sue the cake shop owner and pursue it to the end. I looked Nina up and down and sneered. “Tsk!” “Who told you to be greedy! Eating despite being allergic to mangoes! Now you’re swollen like a pig’s head!” Damien glared at me furiously. “Elara Hartley! Has your conscience been eaten by dogs!” “Nina’s face is ruined and you’re still making sarcastic remarks!” Nina glared at me viciously, her eyes full of poisonous hatred. Damien took a deep breath and grabbed my wrist hard. “Nina’s accident is your responsibility too. You must compensate her. I think you should give her that villa on the mountain and half the shares in your name!” “I’ll also persuade her to forgive you.” I laughed softly. One playing the bad cop, one playing the good cop. Nina got all the benefits, Damien got all the good reputation. Perfect. I was just thinking about how to ruin Damien’s reputation. Who told him to be two-timing, playing both sides. I forced out two tears, pretending to be wronged. “Why! She’s an outsider. Why should she get my family’s money!” Nina also took the opportunity to play the victim, making Damien’s heart ache instantly. “Damien, don’t worry about me.” “Even if I die outside, I won’t take a penny from the Hartley family!” Damien’s brow furrowed. He looked at me with complete dissatisfaction, as if looking at a child who didn’t understand. “Elara, you stole her identity as the heiress. Isn’t that enough? Now you want to drive her to death?” “It’s just this little bit of money. Can’t you let her have it?” I scoffed and couldn’t help asking: “Compensate her? Does she deserve it?” “I was sold to a mountain village as a child and suffered abuse. Don’t you know that?” “From the moment I was born, her mother stole me and sold me to human traffickers. The fact that I haven’t kicked Nina out of the house or called the police to send their whole family to prison is already merciful enough!” What I said was all true. Damien couldn’t refute it, obviously losing face. He sighed lightly, took my hand, and comforted me: “Elara, I know you suffered a lot as a child, but Nina grew up pampered. Without money, what will she do for the rest of her life?” “Don’t worry. Even though Nina and I grew up together, you’re just as important to me as she is.” “Just as important?” I suppressed the smile at the corner of my mouth and nodded. “Fine! I’m about to marry into the Sinclair family anyway, so hand over all the assets in your name for me to manage!” Nina immediately pointed at my nose and cursed angrily. “Elara Hartley! It’s not enough that you’re monopolizing Damien! Now you’re eyeing the Sinclair family money too! Do you have no shame!” Damien didn’t want me to make things difficult for Nina anymore and brushed me off. “Of course. After you marry me, my money is your money.” I smiled with satisfaction and gave Nina a provocative look. But Nina behind me was dismissive, touching her slightly protruding belly with a sneer. “So stupid.” But just as Damien finished speaking, his grandfather called. Specifically asking me to take over all of Damien’s assets and help manage them.

I froze all the bank cards in Damien’s name. Without money to keep Nina, he angrily sent me a voice message. “Elara Hartley, unfreeze those cards right now!” That night, they were taken away by police for dining and dashing. The incident even made headlines on the city’s entertainment news. After Damien was released from the detention center, he stormed into my CEO office looking furious. I sat in the executive chair, legs crossed, smiling smugly. “Your grandfather handed over all your assets for me to manage. Isn’t that what you agreed to first?” Damien was momentarily speechless. But Nina put her hands on her hips and shouted at me angrily. “Why is the old man so good to you! No matter what, you’re not a Sinclair. You’re always an outsider!” I lifted my eyelids and glanced at her belly with a smile. “Outsider? I’m Damien’s wife-to-be. His money isn’t for me to manage, should it go to you? What are you?” Damien seemed intimidated by my presence, his face livid, apparently guilty, not daring to say another word. I now controlled the finances. Next was teaching this shameless pair a lesson. But Nina was dismissive, stroking her slightly protruding belly with a charming smile. “After all, this is the Sinclair family’s money. You’re still not a Sinclair!” “I’ll tell you the truth. I have a Sinclair in my belly —” Damien quickly covered her mouth, preventing the truth from being revealed. I smiled. I’d known about Nina’s pregnancy for a long time. After all this talk, I was waiting for her to say this. “What did you say? Are you carrying Damien’s child?” I looked at Damien with confusion, pretending to be heartbroken. “Is what she’s saying true? I thought you two just had no boundaries, but you’ve been sleeping together behind my back, and now there’s even a child!” “I’m going to tell Dad. I’m not getting married!” I turned resolutely to leave, scaring Damien into quickly abandoning Nina to coax me. I knew clearly in my heart that he agreed to marry me only because his grandfather favored me. A flash of panic crossed Damien’s eyes. He quickly denied it. “Of course not!” I asked with a serious face, repeatedly: “Damien, don’t lie to me. That’s really not your child?” Damien didn’t hesitate for a second, patting his chest to assure me: “The child she’s carrying is definitely not mine!” I couldn’t help but smile and nodded. “I believe you, but I require a DNA paternity test.” Three days later, Damien and I held a grand wedding, inviting celebrities from both business and political circles. Halfway through the wedding, I took an envelope from a staff member. Damien looked at me helplessly. “Elara, this is all a misunderstanding.” “If that child isn’t mine, will you kneel and apologize to Nina?” Damien was clearly doing this on purpose. Making me lose face on our wedding day was his way of punishing me. Damien snatched the report from my hands and showed it to everyone. Seeing “no blood relation” on it, the whole venue erupted in harsh condemnation. “I knew Nina was innocent!” “Hurry up and kneel to apologize! Don’t waste everyone’s time!” “Why isn’t Elara Hartley reacting? Did she already know something?” Nina also shed tears, glaring at me resentfully, as if I had deliberately bullied her. “Hmph! Now the truth is out. Let’s see how you try to argue your way out!” Seeing me about to refute, Damien suddenly gripped my wrist, leaned close to my ear, his voice extremely low. “Elara Hartley, admit defeat.” “Even if you cry and beg me now, you must kneel and apologize to Nina!” I laughed dismissively, lifted my skirt, and gracefully took the stage. “Don’t rush!” “I know you bribed the staff to give me a fake report.” “But I have a medical report here, about you. Want to see it?” Ignoring the shock on everyone’s faces below, I just quietly glanced at Damien. Then calmly pulled out that medical report. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, all eyes gathering here. After a moment of silence, I heard Damien’s roar. “Impossible! This must be a mistake!” I smiled. “You have oligospermia. Has no one told you?” As soon as the words fell, Damien’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

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My husband Anderson’s mistress Rachel waited for him for eight years, but he kept putting off divorcing me. Rachel finally couldn’t take it anymore. She hastily found a boyfriend and declared she was getting married. When Anderson found out, he drank himself into a gastric hemorrhage at a bar. Grabbing my hand, he said: “I’ve wronged Rachel.” Rachel deliberately chose my and Anderson’s wedding anniversary to get married. She wanted to show me that she wasn’t the loser in this fight. And I’d been waiting a long time for this day too. I sent the video of her and Anderson’s intimate moments to her future husband. Then I asked Anderson for a divorce. This was our eighth wedding anniversary. He and Rachel had been entangled for eight years too. I was thirty-five this year. Rachel was thirty now. Neither of us was young anymore. I no longer shared daily observations with Anderson, didn’t get jealous, didn’t check up on him. I’d become exactly what he wanted to see. But Anderson fell more and more in love with me, even planning out where we’d be buried together after death. On our eighth anniversary, I prepared a table full of dishes. I called Anderson, but he didn’t pick up. I stubbornly called again and again. I had my eye on a large penthouse in the city center. On such a special day, it would be easiest to persuade Anderson to pay for it. Usually I didn’t care where he was living it up, but today he had to show up. “Alice, Anderson’s in the hospital with a gastric hemorrhage. Get here quick!” On the phone was Anderson’s friend Bob’s anxious voice. I calmly finished the dinner I’d prepared and replied, “Okay.” On the way, I received a message from Rachel. [See? Even though I’m getting married, he still thinks about me. I deliberately ruined your anniversary] [If I’m miserable, you should be too] [You used your dead child to morally blackmail Anderson, forcing him back to the family. You should have expected this day. When you wake up at midnight, do you ever think of that poor child?] I closed my eyes as my heart clenched painfully. Soon, I’d be able to avenge my child.

When I arrived, Bob accused me of taking too long. “But you’re here, aren’t you?” “I’m not a doctor. What did you expect me to do?” Bob said disappointedly, “You’re Anderson’s wife. How can you be so indifferent? If I’d known…” He suddenly stopped. I gave a cold laugh and finished his sentence for him. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have persuaded Anderson to return to his family. Now he’d still have someone who knows when he’s cold or warm.” I’d heard this from Bob too many times. He was the one who urged Anderson to cut ties with Rachel and return to the family. He was also the one who now thought my care didn’t measure up to Rachel’s. From initial relief to repeatedly complaining about me to Anderson. Fortunately, I no longer cared about Anderson’s friends’ attitudes like before. They could say whatever they wanted. Anderson probably thought the same way. So every time Bob spoke up, he never stopped him, just looked at me with complicated eyes. Anderson wanted me to know what he’d given up for me. Everyone knew Rachel was the one he truly loved. I was the villain who interfered, possessing him but not knowing gratitude. “Get out. This is between Alice and me.” Anderson slowly woke up. Bob, disappointed in him, wanted to say more but froze at Anderson’s next words. “Rachel, I regret it. Don’t leave me. Don’t marry another man.” Anderson drunkenly grabbed my sleeve. “I can’t do it. I can’t watch you have children with another man…” This was the first time Anderson cried like this in front of me. His suppressed sobs were like a broken old violin. Only intermittent, trembling muffled sounds remained, stuck in his throat, unable to come out. He’d mistaken me for Rachel. When Anderson was still with Rachel, people around them often called Rachel “Mrs. Anderson.” After he returned to the family, I never heard it mentioned again. Apparently to avoid touching a sore spot. Bob looked at me with pity. “Are you satisfied now?” “Using your dead child to tie Anderson to your side, now neither of you is happy. Is this the life you wanted?” I smiled politely. “Yes, this is what I wanted. Seeing them both unhappy makes me satisfied.” “You should have died on that hospital bed with that child!” Bob left in anger. Only Anderson and I remained in the room. Anderson gripped me tightly. Following this position, I sat on the edge of his bed and slapped him hard across the face. “Are you sober now?” They all wanted me dead. I was determined to live well, better than all of them. Anderson’s face swelled red. “Alice, how did I end up in the hospital?” “Rachel’s getting married. You were upset, drank with Bob, and ended up here with a gastric hemorrhage.” I pulled out my phone and played his drunken words, including how Bob had provoked me. “You still can’t forget her.” Anderson’s face went pale. “Why don’t you care about my health anymore?” “Before when I was sick, even in pouring rain, you insisted on carrying me to the hospital. You rubbed your heels bloody.” I didn’t expect that would be his first thought. That was long ago, back when Rachel hadn’t yet interfered in our relationship. “That’s why I was so stupid back then. If I couldn’t get a cab, I should have just waited longer like today. Why suffer so much?” Anderson bowed his head guiltily. “I really don’t like her anymore. Tonight I just remembered the past and felt a bit melancholy.” “I didn’t know Bob was talking about you like that behind your back. I won’t associate with him anymore.” I interrupted his next words. “Sign this purchase contract.” “You’ve already wronged me emotionally. You can’t shortchange me financially too.” Anderson took the paper and pen as if it were routine, pausing slightly as he signed, the pen pressing hard through the paper. “Is this all we talk about now?” Since he returned to the family, I said nothing but quietly moved my things to the guest bedroom. His study was full of gifts from Rachel too. I never asked about it. We were like strangers living under the same roof, staying out of each other’s way. I only showed him a pleasant face when I needed him to spend money. “Why won’t you forgive me after everything I’ve done? What do I have to do for you to be like before?” I nodded. “If you can hear that on our anniversary, I drank myself into the hospital because my mistress got married, and you can stay as calm as I am, then I’ll forgive you.” “…I’m sorry.” I looked with satisfaction at the signature on the contract, unable to say “it’s okay.” Anderson pushed his luck, placing his hand on mine, his eyes pleading. “Let’s have a child too. Bob’s wife already had their second.” I gave a mocking laugh. Why bring it up now of all times? It was only because Rachel was going to have children with another man that he wanted a child. I brushed off his hand. “Forget it.” “I can’t be as heartless as you. You may not remember, but I’ll never forget that child. No matter how many children we have, none will be him.” “And I could never give you children. If you want children…” “No more children. Just the two of us is fine. We’ll always be together.” Anderson panicked and held me, as if afraid I’d leave.

Anderson was unusually restless tonight. Instead of staying in the hospital properly, he insisted on following me home. I knew tomorrow was Rachel’s wedding day. He was afraid I’d cause a scene, so he stayed by my side to monitor me. Even though he didn’t want Rachel marrying another man, he wanted her to find happiness. He was always so good to Rachel. When we got home and saw the clean dining table, Anderson froze. “Alice, today’s our anniversary. Where’s the food you made?” I looked annoyed. “Who told you to drink yourself into the hospital? You weren’t going to eat it anyway, so I fed it to stray dogs.” Anderson stared at the table in long silence. Exhausted from the day, I went to shower, too lazy to guess what he meant. Anderson used to travel for work, eating irregularly, which caused his stomach problems. After that, I started cooking, bringing every meal to his office to watch him eat. Later, for Rachel’s sake, he stood me up again and again. I reheated the food countless times until it was unrecognizable. When Anderson came home and saw the cold food on the table, he only had one word: sorry, he’d already eaten out. I dumped the food in the trash. After that, I never saved meals for Anderson again. But Anderson only noticed now. When I came out of the shower, Anderson was waiting by the door with a glass of warm water. “We’re husband and wife. We can’t keep sleeping in separate rooms.” “No thanks, I don’t want it.” “You used to drink warm water every time you finished showering. I measured it to your preferred temperature.” “This cup is the matching couple’s set you bought with Rachel.” I looked directly at Anderson. “When I accidentally broke your cup, Rachel was furious. You didn’t come home for a month. I lost twenty pounds. When you came back, you demanded to know if I understood my mistake.” “This is the second one she bought. You specifically told me never to touch it, never to damage Rachel’s thoughtful gift.” Anderson froze slightly, hastily putting it down. “I forgot.” He looked at me hesitantly. “What do you want to say?” “Are you going to see the house tomorrow?” Seeing me nod, he breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m free tomorrow. I’ll go with you.” I snorted inwardly. To ensure I didn’t make a scene at Rachel’s wedding, Anderson was really putting in effort. “Fine.” Anderson seemed very excited. I don’t know if it was Bob’s words from earlier, but I kept dreaming about the miscarried child that night. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Just as I was about to get up for some air, a pair of warm hands wrapped around my waist from behind. I smelled alcohol and broke out in goosebumps, instantly jumping up. “Anderson, how shameless are you? Rachel’s getting married and you don’t want to stay faithful to her, so you come touch me?” The anger I’d suppressed erupted, disgust showing on my face despite myself. Anderson flinched at my expression. “I just thought we should move to the next stage.” “Time to turn the page.” I smiled. “Fine.” Before Anderson could feel happy, I opened my phone, scrolled a few times, and pointed the lit screen at him. “How many children do you want? We can go adopt tomorrow.” The photos showed blind, deaf, and deformed orphans. “Infidelity, emotional abuse, shirking responsibility.” “I’m afraid children in our home would pick up bad habits. Only children who can’t see or hear would stay in our house.” Anderson fell silent. “Get lost. Don’t disgust me.” I pushed him out the door and locked it.

The next day, he wore the suit I’d bought him years ago, looking at me hopefully. “Does it look good?” Actually, it didn’t. After all these years, no matter how carefully preserved, the clothes had faded and wrinkled, looking cheap and lower quality than the suits he wore now. But I still insincerely praised it as “nice.” Anderson, delighted, transferred another ten million to me. “Those days were so hard, but we got through them. From now on, we’ll have better and better lives, right honey?” After getting the money, I shook my head. Anderson pretended not to notice. I was very satisfied with the house. One apartment per floor, in a core location, with two subway lines below and a huge shopping mall within a kilometer. The saleswoman followed behind me, smiling from ear to ear the whole time. Anderson was distracted, frequently checking his phone. I didn’t care where his mind was, as long as he paid. But in the time it took me to use the restroom, Anderson disappeared. There was only one message on my phone. [She insists on waiting for me before going on stage. I’m afraid she’ll pester me after marriage. This is the last time, I’ll be back in half an hour. Wait for me] The saleswoman looked at me awkwardly. “Ma’am, who’s paying?” I wouldn’t wait anymore. No one had to wait for anyone. “Charge the card.” What Anderson didn’t know was that I’d also prepared a big gift for Rachel. If he hurried, he should make it in time.

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Five years of marriage, and this morning was the first time Mark actually sat across from me at the breakfast table. He wasn’t alone. He was holding the hand of a three-year-old boy. “My buddy from the Marines passed away,” Mark said, not looking at me. ” Kid’s got no one. I want to adopt him. Put him under both our names.” 我 kept moving my fork, not breaking rhythm. The boy looked up. His eyes, his nose—they were a carbon copy of the man sitting across from me. “A buddy?” I asked coldly. “Three years ago, when you did that ‘consulting gig’ in Vegas… did you stay at the Bellagio, or did you rent a private condo in Summerlin?” His face went pale. “Look, the mother… she doesn’t want any drama. She’s just going to live here and help take care of the kid…” “Live here? In the guest room right next to the master?” “Come on, you get a son out of the deal, you stay Mrs. Sterling. It’s a win-win.” I set my fork down. I looked at this man who had used my dowry—my inheritance—to launch three separate LLCs. His family’s “conglomerate” was a hollowed-out shell, currently sitting on an eighty-million-dollar deficit. Every cent keeping it afloat was my father’s money. “Mark, I already had my attorneys draw up the divorce papers.” I leaned in, my voice icy. “Every asset under your name is about to belong to me.” 01 “Belong to you?” Mark repeated the phrase, his tone twisting it into the punchline of a bad joke. He picked up the boy, placed him in a high chair, then turned back to me, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Harper, we’ve been married five years. Who is listed as the registered agent and CEO of all three Sterling subsidiaries?” “You are.” “Whose name is on the deed to this house?” “Yours.” “Exactly.” He pulled out his chair and sat down, methodically buttering a piece of toast. “That eighty million your dad pumped in? That went through corporate loan channels. P-to-P agreements signed between entities. Your name, Harper Vance, appears on exactly zero of those documents.” He took a bite of toast. “You have no leverage. How exactly are you going to divorce me?” The three-year-old boy sat in his high chair, stabbing at a cup of yogurt with a spoon. Every few stabs, he’d peek at me. His brow, the bridge of his nose, even the tiny mole near the corner of his mouth—it was a genetic blueprint of Mark Sterling. “You really think I didn’t come prepared?” I asked. “Prepared with what? A lawyer?” He chuckled. “You mean Miller? I had dinner with him last night. His firm is now on retainer as external counsel for Sterling Corp.” I just stared at him. He put the toast down, clapped the crumbs off his hands, and stood up. “Harper, stop making a scene.下午 (This afternoon), a woman named Chloe is coming over. Do me a favor and make sure the room next door is made up.” He walked to the mudroom to change his shoes. As he bent over to tie his laces, he looked back at the boy. “Ace, buddy, be good for Daddy. I’ll be back tonight.” Daddy. Not Uncle. He wasn’t even pretending anymore. Twelve minutes after the door slammed shut, my phone rang. An unknown number. “Hi, um, Mrs. Sterling? This is Chloe.” The voice was soft, saccharine, with a slight Southern lilt. “Mark told me to come by around three. Is the room ready?” She called him Mark. “What else did he tell you?” I asked. “He said… he said you were okay with this.” “When exactly did I say that?” Silence on the other end for two seconds. “Look, I really won’t be in the way. I’m just here to help take care of Ace, maybe do some cooking. Think of me as a free live-in nanny…” “The person you have pinned at the top of your iMessage list—what is their nickname?” Her breath hitched. “I saw his screen this morning, Chloe. Between eight and nine a.m., you sent him eight texts. The last one said—’Hubby, did she agree yet? I’m so nervous.’” “Mrs. Sterling…” “You have a second Instagram account. ‘Chloe’s Blessed Life.’ Hundred and seventeen thousand followers. Three months ago, you posted a reel. The background was a living room—recessed warm lighting, a custom mahogany bar, Italian silk curtains. You looked into the camera and said, ‘Guys, this is the home hubby and I built.’” Total silence on the line. “That living room is my living room. Those curtains were custom-ordered from Milan by me. I bought that bar.” Silence. “Are you still coming at three?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but there was no surrender. “Mark told me to be there.” At 3:02 p.m., the doorbell rang. She was wearing a cream-colored knit dress, her hair in a low ponytail, her skin ridiculously pale and glowing. When she smiled, she had two deep dimples. “Hi, Harper.” She bent down, dragging two large suitcases across the threshold. The boy, Ace, jumped off the sofa and sprinted into her arms. “Mommy!” He hugged her tight. She kissed his forehead, then looked up at me. There wasn’t a hint of guilt in her eyes. She took a slow turn around the living room, acting like she was returning home. Because in her mind, it was her home. “Which way to the guest room, Harper? I can find it myself.” “That ring on your left hand.” Her smile froze. On her left ring finger was a sapphire and diamond ring. My engagement ring. Two years ago, Mark said he took it to the jewelers for a professional cleaning and “security check.” It never came back. She hid her hand behind her back. “Mark gave it to me…” “I know who gave it to you.” I turned and walked upstairs. Behind me, her voice followed, high-pitched, laced with a sweet, nauseating brand of grievance. “I’m really just here to help!” 02 “Harper, you are being ridiculous.” My mother-in-law, Brenda, called sooner than expected. “Mark told me everything. That child is the son of his Marine buddy who died in theater. Where is your compassion? Where is your grace?” “Brenda, the child calls Chloe ‘Mommy.’” “Kids say things. He’s three. He calls whoever holds him Mommy.” Her words were rapid-fire, like she’d been rehearsing this script all night. “And Mark was very clear with me. That girl is temporary help. She’ll be gone in a few weeks. You are only twisting this because you’re bitter that you haven’t given him a child in five years.” When those words hit, my nails dug so deep into my palms it broke the skin. “Brenda, do you know why I haven’t had a child in five years?” “If your health is poor, go to a specialist. I have told you a thousand times—” “During our second year of marriage, Mark made me take holistic herbal supplements for six months. He said it was to help with fertility. I took the prescription to a real lab to be tested. Three of the ingredients, if taken long-term, cause permanent sterility.” Two seconds of dead silence on the line. “You’re lying.” “I have the lab report. I can send a copy to your attorney.” Brenda sputtered. “I don’t need to see anything! Has my son not taken good care of you? Are you really trying to destroy this family?” She slammed the phone down. At noon, Chloe came down from the room next door and cooked a massive spread. BBQ ribs, roasted vegetables, artisanal bread. The boy, Ace, sat at the table, clutching a fork, his face covered in sauce. She sat next to him, wiping his face with a wet wipe, one gentle dab at a time. She stood up when she saw me come downstairs. “Harper, I made a plate for you, too.” The plate was placed at the far end of the table. She was sitting in my usual chair. I didn’t touch the food. Later, when I went to the pharmacy to pick up some medication, I swiped Mark’s business credit card—the high-limit one he gave me for household use. “I’m sorry, ma’am. This card has been declined.” I switched to my personal debit card and entered my PIN. Insufficient Funds. I opened my mobile banking app. Three days ago, a massive transfer had been executed from my personal savings account. Every dime—one hundred and forty thousand dollars—was gone. Transferred to a Sterling Corp holding account. Authorized by: Mark Sterling. He used a clause in the power of attorney I signed years ago for investment purposes—”Party A grants Party B authority to allocate and manage funds for investment opportunities.” Brenda arrived early that evening. Seventy years old, wearing kitten heels, carrying a high-end gift bag of fruit. The moment she saw Chloe, Brenda beamed. “Oh, look at you, sweetie. You are absolutely stunning. Come here, let Brenda see little Ace.” She scooped the boy up, rubbing his cheek, kissing his forehead, her eyes crinkling into slits. “This nose. He looks exactly like Mark did at this age.” She knew. She knew everything. Brenda reached into her purse and pulled out a velvet box. She opened it. A jade bangle bracelet. Deep emerald green, flawless, incredibly high quality. I recognized it instantly—item eleven on my pre-nuptial inventory list. It was part of my family inheritance, valued at ninety thousand dollars. During our second year of marriage, Brenda said she wanted to borrow it for a charity gala, just for one night. I never saw it again. She slid the bangle onto Chloe’s wrist. “Here, this is for you. For taking such good care of the boy.” Chloe made two polite attempts to refuse, just enough for show, then accepted it on the third. “Thank you, Brenda.” She smiled directly at me when she said it. Brenda sat on the sofa, took a sip of the tea Chloe had brewed, and looked at me. “Harper, you’re thirty. Everyone knows it gets harder for a woman to conceive after thirty. Ace is such a sweet boy. Let’s just focus on raising him for now, and we can discuss the future later.” “Brenda, that bracelet is mine.” “What’s yours is mine? Harper, you married into the Sterling family. What belongs to you belongs to the family.” She set her teacup down. “Harper, if you’re really struggling to understand how the real world works, then let me put it plainly—Mark told me you want a divorce.” Brenda looked at me, her gaze switching from “sweet grandmother” to predatory matriarch. “You entered the Sterling family through a gilded door. There is no exit.” “Your father’s money? That was an investment in Sterling Corp. Investments carry risks. Did you not learn that in school?” “Think about it. You’re one woman. No children. No assets. What are you going to do out there on your own?” Chloe stood near the kitchen door holding Ace. She didn’t say anything. But she was smiling. Those deep dimples. Brenda stood up, brushing imaginary lint off her designer skirt. “Think long and hard before you speak to me like that again.” “Women are lined up down the block hoping for a shot at a man like Mark Sterling. You should be counting your blessings in silence.” 03 “Dinner tonight at my mom’s. She invited a few relatives.” Mark’s text arrived at 4:00 p.m. When I arrived at Brenda’s estate, there were seven or eight people sitting in the living room. aunts, uncles, cousins. People we never saw, but they were all here today. At the dinner table, my chair was gone. Chloe was sitting to Mark’s right, with Ace on her lap. My chair, the one I had sat in for five Thanksgiving dinners, had been moved to a dusty corner of the dining room. “Harper’s here,” Brenda announced, not looking up from her plate. “Pull up a stool, sweetie.” Mark’s Aunt Carol spoke up. “Mark, this is the young lady you were telling us about? She is stunning. And the boy… he is the image of you.” Mark smiled. He didn’t deny it. Carol then turned to Chloe. “Sweetheart, how old are you?” “Twenty-four,” Chloe replied, sounding like a shy choir girl. “Twenty-four and already raising a beautiful boy. Impressive. Shows character.” Aunt Carol shot me a pointed look. Brenda chimed in. “Tell me about it. Some people spend five years in a house and leave it emptier than they found it.” The entire table fell silent. Not one person spoke up for me. I stood there, clutching a glass of water. “Harper, don’t just stand there. Sit.” Mark finally spoke. He pointed to a small, wooden step-stool that had been placed at the very end of the table. I didn’t sit. “Mark, my attorney has been trying to contact you all day.” “We’re having a family dinner, Harper. This is not the time.” “Miller’s firm has been completely compromised by the retainer you put them on. I tried contacting six other law firms in the city today. Three are existing clients of yours, two received personal calls from you advising them not to take the case, and one told me outright they ‘don’t have the bandwidth’ for high-asset divorce cases right now.” The dining room went silent for two seconds. “Harper—” Brenda chopsticks clattered against the fine china. “Are you really going to humiliate us in front of the family?” “Humiliate you? Is that what this is?” “You are being completely unreasonable,” Aunt Carol snapped, slamming her hand on the table. “Mark has provided everything for you. Look at the wives in this city. How many live in a house as nice as yours? How many get to spend money the way you do?” I looked at Aunt Carol. “Spend money? My credit card was declined at the pharmacy today. He transferred a hundred and forty thousand dollars out of my personal savings account. Right now, I have three hundred dollars in my pocket, and that’s only because I withdrew cash yesterday.” Aunt Carol blinked, stunned. She turned to Mark. “Mark, is this…” “Aunt Carol, this is a private marital matter. Please don’t listen to her histrionics.” Mark didn’t stop eating. His tone was smooth, perfectly calm. “Harper hasn’t been herself lately. She’s under a lot of stress. I’ve actually made an appointment for her with a top-tier psychiatrist.” A psychiatrist. He was telling everyone I was mentally unstable. In front of the entire extended family. Chloe sat next to him, her head bowed, feeding Ace. She didn’t speak. She didn’t look at me. But her phone screen lit up on the table. I saw her quickly type two words and hit send. “Handled.” I couldn’t see who she sent it to. But I saw the nickname on the chat window. Hubby. At 11:00 p.m., I sat alone in my master bedroom. All my bank cards were frozen. My legal avenues were blocked. The entire family was aligned against me. From the room next door came the sound of Chloe singing a lullaby, her voice saccharine sweet. I pulled out my phone. I scrolled to a number I hadn’t dialed in five years. Dad. I didn’t press call. As the phone screen dimmed, Brenda’s voice drifted up from downstairs. She was talking to Chloe. “Chloe, sweetie, you make yourself comfortable. This house… it’s going to be yours sooner rather than later.” “Honestly, if Harper just packs up and leaves, it’ll be easier. We won’t have to look at her miserable face anymore. It’s not like she can take anything with her. Nothing useful, anyway.” 04 “Sign it.” The next morning, Mark threw a thick legal document on the table in front of me. A Supplemental Post-Nuptial Agreement. Twelve pages, professionally drafted. I flipped it open— Article 3: Party B (Harper Vance) hereby waives all future claims to equity, profits, or assets of Party A’s associated business entities. Article 7: Party B assumes sole responsibility for all personal debts accrued during the marriage. Article 9: Party B confirms that all assets previously designated as ‘dowry’ or ‘inheritance’ were converted into business capital upon investment and are non-refundable. Article 11: Signing of this agreement constitutes Party B’s consent to a peaceful dissolution of marriage, with no further claim to marital assets. I flipped to the last page. Under “Party A,” Mark had already signed his name. Sterling Corp had also applied its corporate seal. “You sign this, we have a clean break. I won’t make this difficult for you.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat opposite me. “You can stay in the house until the end of the year. I’ll give you a debit card with twenty thousand dollars a month for living expenses. That’s more than enough for you to get back on your feet and find a job.” Twenty thousand. I brought thirty million dollars in assets into this marriage. My father pumped in eighty million to save his empty shell company. And he was offering me twenty thousand a month. “What if I don’t sign?” He took a sip of coffee. “If you don’t sign, you can still leave. But you will leave with nothing. Not a dime. Not even your jewelry—I should remind you, Brenda is currently in possession of your inheritance collection, and she claims it was a gift. You want to sue her in probate court? Go ahead. Get in line. It’ll take years.” He set his mug down and stared at me. “Harper, you have vastly overestimated your own value.” “What do you think you have? Your father’s influence? Your father’s influence matters in a boardroom. It is worthless in a divorce court.” Chloe walked out of the kitchen carrying a breakfast tray. Eggs benedict, artisanal toast, fresh-squeezed orange juice. She set a plate in front of Mark and a small plate in front of Ace. Nothing for me. “Breakfast is served, Mark.” She sat next to him. At my table. In my chair. Brenda came downstairs and glanced at the agreement on the table. “Sign it, Harper. Get it over with. Look at you. No money, no children, no lawyer. Why are you still fighting?” “Honestly, if you don’t sign this, let me be blunt—what are you, without your father’s bank account?” Mark leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs, looking at me with total amusement. I knew that look. It was a look of absolute, bone-deep certainty. He was certain I would sign. Certain I had no cards left to play. Certain he had won the game. “Harper Vance, you can refuse to sign. But the moment you walk out that Sterling door, you are nothing.” He was smiling when he said it. At that exact second, my phone rang on the table. The screen lit up. The caller ID read one word—

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Part 1 I divorced my uncle’s commanding officer. It was ugly. He shielded the new female combat medic while I hurled three heavy glass ashtrays at them, and he responded by kicking me down a flight of stairs, causing me to lose my seven-month pregnancy. I left. I remarried. Life was quiet and mundane. Slowly, it smoothed over the madness and rage of those years. Until one evening, at a reunion of my current husband’s platoon, one of his drunk army buddies mistook me for someone else. “Chloe, back then you thought Mark was too poor. You took all his severance pay and ran off to Europe. He had red eyes and swore he’d put a bullet in you, but in the end, he actually married you.” “I guess that’s the power of the one that got away.” That was the exact moment I realized why Mark had fallen in love with me at first sight. It was because I was a stand-in. In an instant, my mind snapped back to my ex-husband. … I turned my head to look at Mark sitting beside me. His jaw was tight as he explained, “He’s drunk and talking nonsense. Are you really going to believe him?” The buddy stubbornly stuck his neck out. “The hell I’m talking nonsense!” “I still remember the night you guys broke up. You cried the entire night…” Mark violently stood up, slamming his fist onto the table. “Shut the hell up!” The buddy sobered up halfway, his gaze lingering on my face for a long time. From his complex expression, I guessed everything. No wonder the youngest brigadier general on the base fell in love at first sight with a divorced woman like me. No wonder he never let me cut my hair short and always liked me to wear white summer dresses. No wonder he unconditionally tolerated all my little temper tantrums. Turns out, before me, he had an unforgettable college sweetheart from the military academy. I picked up my coat and stood up to leave. My wrist was violently grabbed. It didn’t hurt, but it felt sickening. I yanked my hand free and backhanded Mark across the face. The private dining room instantly became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Just as I was about to walk out, a woman in a white dress pushed the door open with a bright smile. One look, and I knew she was Mark’s first love. The same white dress. The same long, straight black hair. Chloe noticed me too. A glimmer of understanding slowly surfaced in her eyes. I bit my lip in humiliation, my fingernails digging hard into my palms. Chloe brushed past me and greeted Mark with familiar ease. “New girlfriend?” “She looks so much like me. Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on me?” Mark’s face grew even darker. “This is my wife. Watch what you say!” She lowered her head, her voice starting to tremble. “I didn’t know you were married. Why are you yelling at me?” Mark instinctively crouched down slightly, his tone becoming panicked. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry…” Before he could finish, Chloe covered her mouth and giggled. “Haven’t seen you in three or four years, and you’re still so easy to fool.” Mark ground his back teeth. “Chloe!” He was annoyed; she was laughing. The other guys at the table watched the scene as if it were the most normal thing in the world. I couldn’t take it anymore and slammed the door behind me. From behind the door, I heard Chloe’s malicious teasing. “Aren’t you going to chase her?” My footsteps paused. But I heard the man’s cold, indifferent reply. “Her temper isn’t as bad as yours. She’s easy to coax.” Part 2 I don’t remember how I got home. As soon as I walked through the door, the wedding photo hanging in the living room was blindingly painful to look at. When Mark told me it was love at first sight, I didn’t believe him. After all, my ex-husband—my uncle’s commanding officer, a man I had known for over twenty years—had betrayed me. Let alone a stranger I had only met once. But after the messy divorce with my ex, Arthur, my parents took their anger out on me and froze my bank accounts. Because I didn’t have hard evidence of Arthur’s infidelity, rumors ran wild on the base, painting me as a dramatic, high-maintenance brat. The other military wives my age were just waiting to see me become a joke. Everyone said I would never find a better husband than Arthur. I didn’t believe them. I was determined to prove them wrong. And luckily, I bet correctly on Mark, a rising star. His devotion to me allowed me to make a beautiful comeback. Those who mocked me for throwing away gold for copper were forced to shut their mouths. But it wasn’t until tonight that I realized his so-called “love at first sight” was built entirely on the lingering feelings for his first love. My stomach started to churn. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up violently. When I came out, I walked into the home office—a room I rarely entered. Among a pile of military theory books, a battered old notebook stood out. With trembling hands, I opened it. A photograph fell out. Mark, in his uniform, was looking at the girl beside him with eyes full of deep devotion. The man I remembered as being incredibly calm even while executing covert operations was, in his diary, just an ordinary guy who got jealous and heartbroken. [She said staying with me was a dead end. She wants to break up and move to Europe.] [I said no, but she left anyway. She took all my severance pay with her.] [That heartless woman. When she comes back, I’m going to make her wish she was dead.] The ink on this page was smeared by water stains, the paper crinkled. I turned the page. [I met a woman who looks exactly like her.] [The day we got our marriage license, I texted her.] [If she comes back, I’ll marry her.] [She didn’t show up. I’m not waiting for her anymore.] My vision blurred. So, while I was excitedly planning our wedding, Mark was waiting for another woman to crash it. The sound of keys turning in the lock echoed from the front door. I didn’t move. Until Mark rushed into the room. Seeing the diary in my hands, his voice dropped to freezing temperatures. “Who told you to touch my things? Give it back.” The day he proposed, Mark did it to give me peace of mind. He voluntarily handed over his salary cards and put my name on the deed to the house. After we married, he was completely transparent with me. No passcodes on his phone, real-time updates on his whereabouts. But now, just because I touched something related to Chloe, he was panicking. I sneered. “If your heart is already occupied, why are you afraid of me looking?” He didn’t answer, just reached out to snatch it. I gripped it tightly, refusing to let go. He started prying my fingers open, one by one. My knuckles popped. I went pale from the pain and violently threw the diary at his chest. “If you love your first love so much, why did you marry me?” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “That’s all in the past. Stop being unreasonable.” “Then look me in the eye and tell me you married me because you love me.” I didn’t look away, staring straight at him. Mark’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes flickered away for a second. The next second, he let out a cold laugh born of humiliation and anger. “You want the truth?” “Fine. I’ll tell you.” “I married you because you look like her.” “But haven’t I treated you well enough these past three years?” It was precisely because he treated me too well. So well that I thought he indulged me because he loved me. But what was the reality? Arthur loved the new and threw away the old. Mark was nostalgic. But the person he was nostalgic for, the person he loved, was always his first love. Watching him carefully put the diary away, I only felt a sickening sense of irony. “Mark. Let’s get a divorce.” Part 3 Mark’s movements paused, his tone impatient. “Evelyn, can you stop throwing a tantrum?” “As my wife, who on this base doesn’t treat you with respect?” “Throwing a fit about divorce now will only make us a laughingstock.” Those words sounded incredibly familiar. When I was divorcing Arthur, he said the exact same things. He said he just had “a little crush” on the female combat medic. He said there was no physical cheating, told me to stop making a scene. But I refused to be with a man who had someone else in his heart. If I could leave Arthur back then, I could definitely leave Mark now. “Tomorrow morning, 9 AM. At the courthouse.” After saying that, I turned to walk past him. Mark grabbed my shoulder. “Evelyn, don’t be so childish.” “Nobody wants to marry a woman on her third marriage who’s had a miscarriage.” I suddenly couldn’t see the man in front of me clearly. When I cried and told him about my past with Arthur, he had held me tightly, saying he wished he had met me sooner. Perhaps the heartbreak in my eyes was too obvious. Mark’s tone softened slightly. “I’m sorry, I was just…” Before he could finish, his phone rang. I glanced down. No caller ID saved. Mark hesitated, but ultimately chose to answer. “Arrested for a DUI? I’m not coming to bail you out.” “When you took all my money and ran off to Europe, you didn’t care about my situation either!” Every word was laced with disdain, yet every syllable betrayed how much he cared. Even though I had just demanded a divorce a second ago, it wasn’t as important as a phone call from Chloe. Seeing how desperate he was to go bail her out, the corner of my mouth twitched. “In such a rush to see your old flame? At least let’s finalize the divorce details.” Mark frowned deeply. “Don’t overthink this.” “She just got back to the States. She doesn’t know anyone here.” “I’m her ex-boyfriend, after all. I’m just doing her a favor.” He grabbed his car keys and hurried out the door. After the door slammed shut, I was left alone in the study. I went back to the bedroom and started packing my things. Not long after, a friend request popped up on my phone. The profile picture was a simple doodle of a kitten. Mark’s profile picture was a military working dog. After all this time, he still couldn’t bear to change his matching couple profile picture. After accepting the request, Chloe didn’t send a single message. I clicked on her social media feed and saw a completely different Mark. He would let a woman draw all over his face with lipstick; He would go to the shooting range with her and take those cheesy couple photos; He would even cook for her, making hot cocoa when she had cramps. These posts were from three years ago. Before Mark even met me. Just then, Chloe posted a new update. [The bad girl gets everything.] The location tag was the base’s guest lodge. The photo attached was of two hands with interlocked fingers, clearly taken post-coitus. The man wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. But there was a pale indent on his ring finger. Mark couldn’t even wait out the mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period for the divorce. I bit my lip until it bled. In a moment of pure impulse, I called an Uber and headed straight to the guest lodge. The front desk refused to give me the room number. So I searched room by room. Apologizing over and over again. When I reached the very last door, I couldn’t bring myself to knock. What was the point of catching them in the act? Have a screaming match like a hysterical banshee? And become the laughingstock of the base all over again? After a moment of hesitation, I didn’t knock on that door. I went home, dead inside. I consulted a divorce lawyer about the process, then fell into a heavy sleep. But early the next morning, I woke up to find myself trending: Woman Caught Sneaking into Guest Lodge for Midnight Rendezvous with Ex-Husband. Part 4 Before I was fully awake, an enraged Mark yanked me out of bed. He shoved his phone in my face. The picture showed me standing outside the guest lodge, looking anxious. “Evelyn, running back to let your ex screw you—do you have no shame?!” My head was spinning, but I instinctively fired back. “I haven’t even seen Arthur.” “But what about you? Weren’t you also at the guest lodge last night?” A flash of panic crossed Mark’s eyes, quickly covered up by furious indignation. “Nothing happened between me and her!” “But what the hell is this midnight rendezvous with Arthur?” I let out a bitter laugh, deciding to just lean into his accusation. “Then just assume I went to see him.” Seeing his pupils shrink in shock brought a twisted sense of vindictive pleasure. “I didn’t just see him. I told him I regretted divorcing him.” “Because no matter how garbage he was, he never treated me as a stand-in.” Mark’s breathing instantly grew heavy, his fingers digging into my shoulders turning white. “You think I don’t regret it?” “No matter what Chloe did to me, she was never touched by another man.” “I married used goods for my first marriage. Do you have any idea how many people talk behind my back?” A sharp smack echoed in the room. My palm stung. Mark’s head jerked to the side, violent red veins instantly flooding his eyes. He raised his hand to hit me back, but froze mid-air. I tilted my chin up. “Hit me!” “If you have the guts, hit me back!” Mark stared at me for a long time. Suddenly, he reached out and dragged me all the way into the bathroom. He turned the tub on full blast with freezing cold water. Ignoring my struggles, he forced my head under the icy water. “Cough… Mark! You’re crazy!” He scrubbed violently at my skin. “Evelyn, I don’t hit women, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a temper.” “This is your one and only warning. I never want to see you contact your ex-husband again.” The icy water cut to the bone, but it was a fraction of the chill in my heart. “Mark, what gives you the right to be such a hypocrite?” “You and Chloe were alone in a hotel room last night. You expect me to believe nothing happened?” He held me down in the tub, his voice dark. “You don’t have the right to question my business!” Water rushed into my nose. Panic and suffocation set in instantly. Just as I thought I was actually going to die by his hands, the pressure on my head suddenly vanished. I shot up, gasping desperately for air. Mark looked down at me from above. “You stay in here and think about what you’ve done.” I scrambled up, instinctively trying to run out. But I was locked inside the bathroom. “Mark, you can’t do this to me! Let me out!” Through the door came his cold voice. “I’ll let you out when you realize you were wrong.” A sudden, violent cramp ripped through my lower abdomen. A warm stream of liquid slid down my inner thigh. With trembling hands, I reached down. My fingertips came back covered in a horrifying crimson. “Mark… my stomach hurts. Let me out…” I weakly pounded on the door, my voice trembling uncontrollably. Footsteps approached. Just as I thought he was going to open the door, I heard a scoff. “Evelyn, the lengths you’ll go to just to get me to open this door.” “Faking sick this time. Are you going to fake your death next?” The red pooling beneath me grew darker. Scalding tears mixed with the bathwater on my face. I had never been so terrified in my life. Even when I miscarried Arthur’s child, it happened in a hospital under anesthesia. Now, I was watching my own child dissolve into a pool of blood with my own eyes. “Mark, I’m not lying.” “I’m having a miscarriage. Please… take me to the hospital.” The silence outside the door lasted only a second. “Evelyn, do you think I’m an idiot?” “You miscarried before. The doctors said it would be nearly impossible for you to ever get pregnant again!” “And even if you are pregnant, I have no intention of keeping that bastard child.” It felt like a knife plunged straight into my heart. Even drawing breath brought a dull, agonizing pain. I couldn’t hold on any longer, and I slipped completely into darkness. Part 5 When I woke up, the sharp scent of hospital disinfectant assaulted my nose. I instinctively reached for my stomach. It was flat and empty. “You’re awake?” A cold voice echoed near the bed. I turned my head and saw my ex-husband, whom I hadn’t seen in three years. Arthur was wearing a black trench coat. He had blue stubble on his chin and his eyes were completely bloodshot, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. He handed me a cup of warm water, his movements clumsy but careful. “Drink some.” My throat was incredibly dry, my voice sounding like sandpaper. “Why are you here?” Arthur licked his lips. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you all these years.” “I came to LA for business a few days ago, and I saw the tabloid gossip about you and me.” “I hadn’t even seen you. There was no ‘midnight rendezvous.’” “I was worried, so I went to find you.” “But you wouldn’t answer your phone or messages, and the lights in your house were off.” “So I had someone break the door down. And I found you unconscious in the bathroom, surrounded by blood.” Arthur’s tone grew vicious. “You left me, just to end up with a piece of trash like that?” “The doctor said… because you were submerged in freezing water for so long, and under extreme emotional distress, the baby couldn’t be saved.” “Your body suffered severe trauma. It’s highly unlikely you’ll ever be able to conceive again.” Hearing him say all this, I felt absolutely nothing. It was exactly what I expected. I turned my head, looked at the green leaves outside the window, and softly said, “Thank you.” Arthur violently grabbed my hand, his eyes burning red. “Evelyn, do we really need to say ‘thank you’ to each other?” “I was too young back then. I couldn’t handle temptation.” “But Mark went way further than I ever did. Are you seriously going to stay with him?” “Come back to New York with me. I swear, from now on, I will only ever be devoted to you.” “This time, I will never let you suffer.” Hearing these solemn promises left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. This man was the love of my youth. Then he became the ex-husband I hated to my core. And now, when the whole world had abandoned me, he was the only one standing by my side. But two catastrophic marriages had broken me. And finally snapped me completely awake. I didn’t want Mark, and I didn’t want him. I wanted neither of them. I coldly pulled my hand away. “I’m tired. I want to rest.” Arthur’s eyes dimmed for a second, then he nodded. “Okay, get some sleep. I’ll be right outside.” “As long as I’m here, nobody is coming in to hurt you.” I slept very deeply. When I woke up, it was already late afternoon. The moment I opened my eyes, a nurse ran in, looking panicked. “Mr. Thorne! We have a problem! Mr. Sterling brought his men to lock down the floor and is forcing his way in!” Arthur stood in front of the hospital bed, letting out a cold laugh. “Perfect timing. I’ve been looking for him.” Before he even finished speaking, the hospital room door was violently shoved open. Mark strode in. He was flanked by several military police guards, and behind him stood Chloe in her white dress. Seeing that I was awake, a flash of joy crossed Mark’s eyes. But it was quickly replaced by an unnatural stiffness. “You just got a little wet with cold water. Why are you in the hospital? Do you still have a fever?” He walked toward the bed, reaching out to feel my forehead. But Arthur swatted his hand away. “Keep your dirty hands off her.” Mark frowned deeply, looking at Arthur with intense irritation. “This is my wife. I’m taking care of her. It’s none of an outsider’s business.” He turned back to me, his tone carrying a hint of accusation. “Evelyn, you took it too far this time.” “Do you have any idea what people on the base are saying about you and Arthur?” “Everyone is laughing at me, calling me a coward for letting my wife cheat on me right under my nose.” “I know you’re angry, but absolutely nothing happened between me and Chloe.” “Did you really have to invent a fake pregnancy just to humiliate me?”

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Chapter 1 My older sister and I both got accepted into the county’s top magnet high school at the same time. My mom baked two pieces of sweet cornbread to celebrate. One was dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon; the other was completely plain. “I have the best grades, so I get the sweet one,” my sister, Chloe, declared, instantly snatching the sugared piece off the plate. My mom smiled and nodded, pushing the plain piece toward me. “My sweet little Lily is so mature. She doesn’t fight over things like this.” I took a bite of the bland, dry cornbread. I didn’t say a word. Three years later, Chloe and I both got accepted into the State University’s teaching program. The day the acceptance letters arrived in the mail, my mom did something unprecedented: she slaughtered the only egg-laying chicken we owned. When we sat down for dinner, she placed a massive bowl of chicken noodle soup right in the center of the table. She picked up the ladle, scooped a generous bowl for my dad, and then one for Chloe. When it was my turn, her hand paused mid-air. She gave me exactly half a bowl of broth. I didn’t say anything. I just quietly took the bowl. Then, she picked up her fork and reached for the only two drumsticks in the pot. One landed squarely in Chloe’s bowl. The other… also landed in Chloe’s bowl. “Chloe, you’ve been studying so hard. Eat up. You need to keep your strength up.” My dad kept his head down, slurping his soup as if it were a Michelin-star meal that required his absolute, undivided attention. Chloe kept her head down too, picking at her rice. Her fork carefully avoided the two glistening, golden drumsticks, but she didn’t say a single word. Since we were kids, if there was ever anything good in our house, it automatically belonged to her. Just like when we got into high school, and my mom made that cornbread. The piece I had in my hand wasn’t even warm yet before my mom told me to give it to my sister. Her reasoning? Chloe had better grades, so she needed the sugar for brain power. I thought that getting into college would finally change things. We got into the exact same university. Our SAT scores were only twenty points apart. The neighbors were constantly praising my parents, saying how blessed they were to have two brilliant daughters flying out of the nest at the same time. But the moment my mom opened her mouth, that “blessing” belonged solely to Chloe. “You both know our family’s financial situation,” my mom said, putting down her fork. She looked around the table, her gaze finally landing heavily on me. “Your dad’s salary from the hardware store is barely enough to feed us. There is absolutely no way we can afford two college tuitions.” My heart began to sink, inch by agonizing inch. “So, your dad and I talked it over. Chloe is going to college. Lily… you aren’t going.” My head snapped up, and I stared at her. She avoided my eyes and kept talking. “Your sister’s grades are slightly better than yours. She has a brighter future. You’re the younger sister; it’s your duty to help support the family and support your sister.” “I’ve already pulled some strings. You’re going to start working at the textile mill in town next week. You’ll work to pay for your sister’s tuition.” “Listen to your mother.” My dad, who had been silent the entire time, finally opened his mouth—just to say those five words. I turned to look at Chloe. She had finally stopped pretending to eat. She looked up, a fleeting trace of guilt in her eyes, but it was immediately eclipsed by a profound sense of overwhelming relief. She didn’t look at me. She looked straight at our mom and said, “Mom, I promise I’ll study hard. I’ll pay you, Dad, and Lily back someday.” Pay you back. What a beautiful, hollow promise. I looked down at the few pathetic, meatless chicken bones swimming in the clear broth of my bowl. Then I looked at the two massive, intact drumsticks sitting in hers. And suddenly, I understood. From that piece of sugared cornbread to this opportunity to go to college… it was never actually about whether we were poor or not. It was because, in their hearts, I was the one who could be sacrificed. And therefore, I must be sacrificed. I gripped my fork so tightly my knuckles turned white. I didn’t say a single word. For the rest of dinner, the only sounds were my mom and Chloe excitedly whispering about what she needed to pack for her move to the city. Their voices were bright and full of hope for the future. The hot chicken soup in my stomach felt like it had turned to solid ice. The next morning, my mom woke up at the crack of dawn. She didn’t ask me to make breakfast. Instead, she dragged a locked metal lockbox out from under her bed. It held our family’s entire life savings. She dumped the contents onto the mattress—stacks of crumpled one-dollar bills, loose change, and a few crisp fifty-dollar bills. She counted it all, meticulously, three separate times. When she was done, she wrapped the money tightly in a handkerchief, shoved it deep into her coat pocket, and turned to Chloe, who was brushing her hair. “Come on, Chloe. Mom’s taking you into town to buy some nice fabric for a few new dresses, and a brand-new pair of leather shoes. You’re going to be a college student now; we can’t let people look down on you.” Chloe caught my eye in the mirror. She looked away quickly, but couldn’t hide her excitement as she replied, “Okay!” From beginning to end, my mom didn’t glance at me once. It was as if I were just another piece of furniture in the room. After they left, I heated up the leftover oatmeal from the stove and handed a bowl to my dad. He kept his head down, eating silently. Suddenly, he looked up and muttered, “Your mother… she’s just doing what’s best for the family.” I didn’t respond. I took the dirty bowls into the kitchen and started scrubbing the pots. They came back that afternoon. Chloe was clutching a roll of pretty floral fabric, her feet sporting a pair of shiny black Mary Janes. She paraded back and forth across the living room several times. Once my mom had admired her enough, she finally directed her attention to me. “Lily, you’re reporting to the textile mill on the east side of town tomorrow. I already talked to Mrs. Higgins. You’re a fast worker. The first month is an apprenticeship, so the pay is lower, but you’ll still get a hundred and fifty bucks. When you get your paycheck, you hand it directly to me, every single cent. It’s going toward your sister’s living expenses.” Her tone wasn’t that of a mother speaking to her daughter. It sounded more like a plantation owner barking orders at a field hand. I replied quietly, “Understood.” The next few days in our house were incredibly loud. Aunts, uncles, and distant cousins heard Chloe got into the State University and came flocking to the house to congratulate her. They brought casseroles, baked goods, or just handed her cash in greeting cards. Every single time, my mom would push my sister to the front, her face beaming with pride as she accepted the gifts and cash, loudly announcing to everyone: “I’m putting all this money straight into a savings account for Chloe! It’s her college fund! Our entire family is counting on her now!” Occasionally, a relative would notice me and ask, “What about Lily? Didn’t she get accepted too?” My mom would immediately let out a dramatic sigh, putting on a pained, conflicted expression: “Oh, I know! But the girl is so mature. She knows how hard things are for us financially, so she volunteered to drop out! She said she wants to give the opportunity to her sister. She’s going to work at the mill to pay for Chloe’s tuition!” Every person in the room would then look at me with a mix of approval and pity, praising me for being so sensible, so selfless, such a “good sister.” I didn’t say a word. I just poured their coffee, refilled their water glasses, and quietly retreated to my tiny bedroom. My room was practically a closet. It fit a twin bed and a battered wooden chest. I opened the chest. Inside was everything I owned in the world: two faded, overworn t-shirts, a few dog-eared textbooks, and a small tin box. I took my clothes out, folded them meticulously, and packed them into a canvas duffel bag I had prepared days ago. Then, I opened the tin box and dumped out all the money inside. It was money I had scraped together over the years by tutoring kids in the neighborhood and collecting scrap metal. It was a pathetic pile of crumpled bills and heavy coins. It totaled exactly $348.50. I carefully tucked the money into the inner pocket of my jacket. It was late at night. Through the thin walls, I could hear Chloe and my mom still excitedly discussing college life. Their voices were bright, warm, and overflowing with dreams for the future. But not a single ray of that light reached my pitch-black room. I lay in bed, shoving the canvas duffel bag deep into the gap between my mattress and the wall, hiding it completely. I closed my eyes, but my mind had never been clearer. From the exact moment this family decided I was the one who had to be sacrificed… this was no longer my family. The loudest day in our house was the day Great-Uncle Henry came to visit from the city. He was a mid-level manager at a regional logistics company and was widely considered the most successful, respectable person in our extended family. The moment he walked through the door, my mom dragged out the nicest chair we owned and brewed a pot of expensive jasmine tea she normally kept hidden away. After the pleasantries, Uncle Henry pulled a small, velvet-lined box out of his briefcase. Inside lay two brand-new, high-end Parker fountain pens. “Chloe, Lily, you both got accepted to college. I don’t have much to offer,” he said with a warm, booming laugh, “but here’s one for each of you. Take good notes at school, and go do great things in the world!” A chorus of impressed gasps echoed from the relatives gathered in the living room. A Parker fountain pen was a serious status symbol. It represented intellect, class, and respectability. My heart involuntarily skipped a beat. Without even thinking, my hand instinctively reached out toward the box. But Chloe was faster. Her hand swooped in front of mine, smoothly and naturally plucking both pens from the velvet lining, clasping them securely in her palm. “Thank you so much, Uncle Henry.” She smiled flawlessly, waving the pens at the room. “College coursework is so demanding, I’m going to have to take a million notes! It’s perfect—one to use, and one as a backup!” Her movement was fluid; her excuse was airtight. Uncle Henry froze for a second. He clearly felt something was off, but looking at Chloe’s beaming, joyous face, he swallowed whatever he was going to say. My mom immediately stepped forward and patted Chloe’s hand—as if terrified someone was going to snatch the pens away from her. She quickly offered an explanation to Uncle Henry: “You’re absolutely right! Chloe’s studies are the priority. Our Lily… well, she’s not going to school anymore. She’s going to work at the textile mill. She’ll be dealing with cotton and heavy machinery all day. She has absolutely no use for such an expensive, fancy pen. Giving it to her would just be a total waste.” She emphasized the word “waste” with crushing clarity. My hand, still hovering halfway in the air, froze completely. The cheerful atmosphere in the room instantly curdled into something incredibly awkward. The eyes of the relatives darted back and forth between me, my mom, and the two fountain pens, filled with probing curiosity and second-hand embarrassment. My dad was crouching by the front door, lighting another cigarette. The thick smoke obscured his face. I slowly, deliberately pulled my hand back and shoved it deep into my pocket. From beginning to end, Chloe didn’t look at me once. She kept her head down, lovingly stroking the two fountain pens—one of which was undeniably meant for me—as if they were her most prized possessions. In that exact moment, the very last, fragile, crumbling pillar holding up my heart completely collapsed. For years, I had compromised. The sugared cornbread, the new clothes, and now, even the chance to get a college education—I gave it all up. I always told myself it was because we were poor. Because our family had limited resources, and we had to pool them together for one person to succeed. But now… these two pens were explicitly, specifically gifted to both of us by Uncle Henry. It turns out, it had absolutely nothing to do with being poor. I raised my head. My gaze swept over the faces of every person in the room, finally landing dead center on my mom and my sister. The room was noisy with awkward chatter, but my voice cut through it, ringing out with crystal clarity. “So, it’s not because we’re poor.” I asked, enunciating every single syllable. “It’s just because the person who is supposed to be sacrificed… will always be me. Right?” The chaotic noise in the room slammed to a halt. Everyone looked as if they were physically choking, staring dead at me. The entire house was plunged into a suffocating, deathly silence. My mom’s face instantly flushed a violent, furious red. She shot up from her chair, pointing her finger right at my nose, her voice shrill and piercing: “Lily Davis! We put you through high school, and this is the ungrateful, venomous trash you learn to spew?! How dare you speak to me like that?! I am your mother!” “Mom, please, let it go. Lily is just upset and isn’t thinking straight.” Chloe immediately played the gentle peacemaker, though her hands were still gripping the two fountain pens in a vice grip, as if they were her only family. Several relatives nervously tried to smooth things over, saying I was just young and impulsive, and told me to hurry up and apologize to my mom. My dad, crouching by the door, viciously ground his cigarette out against the floorboards. He finally spoke, his voice raspy and exhausted: “Everyone, just drop it.” The ugly, humiliating spectacle was forcibly swept under the rug, overshadowed by the impending “joyous occasion” of Chloe leaving for college. But everyone in that room knew that something had fundamentally, permanently fractured. Soon, the day of Chloe’s massive send-off party arrived. My family had set up three large banquet tables in the backyard. The entire extended family was there; it was louder and more festive than Thanksgiving. Chloe was wearing a brand-new, custom-made dress my mom had sewn for her. She looked like a proud peacock, surrounded by a flock of admiring relatives. After a few drinks, my mom stood up, her face glowing red with pride, holding her glass high. First, she gave a highly emotional, theatrical speech about how incredibly hard she worked to raise such a brilliant daughter, praising Chloe for being the golden child who was going to elevate the entire Davis family name. Inside and outside the house, the air was thick with applause and fawning compliments. Then, she pivoted. Her gaze shot across the yard, locking directly onto me. “Of course, the fact that our Chloe can go off to college with peace of mind… is also thanks to her younger sister.” “Our Lily is such a good girl! So incredibly mature! She knew how hard our financial situation was, so she volunteered to drop out! She insisted on giving her spot to her sister! She’s going to work at the mill to earn money to pay for Chloe’s tuition!” She painted me as a willing, selfless martyr. The relatives immediately turned their approving, sympathetic gazes toward me. “Lily really is such an amazing sister!” “Martha, you are so blessed! Both your girls are incredible!” Basking in the glow of these hypocritical, hollow compliments, my mom smiled in deep satisfaction. She looked at me and said loudly, “Lily, when you start at the mill, you better work hard! No slacking off! Every month when you get your paycheck, you mail it straight home immediately. Don’t you dare hold a single cent back, you hear me? Your sister is living in the big city now, her expenses are going to be huge!” Under the watchful eyes of every single person in that yard, I slowly stood up. I didn’t say a word. I just reached deep into the inner pocket of my jacket. And right in front of everyone, I untied the string and dumped the contents directly onto the banquet table. Clatter. It was a massive pile of worn-smooth quarters, dimes, nickels, and a thick stack of meticulously folded one-dollar and five-dollar bills. There wasn’t a single twenty-dollar bill in the pile. It was every single cent I had scraped together, literally taking food out of my own mouth, tutoring kids, and collecting recycling for years. My entire life savings. I took my time, carefully counting the money out, arranging it into neat piles until it totaled exactly one hundred dollars. I pushed the neat stack directly into the center of the table. Then, I raised my head. Meeting my mom’s shocked, horrified gaze, I spoke in the absolute calmest voice I had ever used in my entire life: “Mom. This is the exact cost of every meal you fed me and the clothes you put on my back. One hundred dollars. I am paying you back right now.” “From today on, we are completely even.” With that, I turned around, grabbed the canvas duffel bag I had hidden by the back door, and resolutely walked out of the gate. Behind me, I could hear my mom’s furious, hysterical screaming, followed by the sharp, shattering crash of plates and glasses hitting the patio. But I never looked back. I took a step forward, and I kept walking.

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On the day the settlement money from the buyout of our parents’ old house arrived, my brother secretly transferred three million dollars to my account. He explicitly warned me not to let my sister-in-law know. He told her that, according to “tradition,” I was only entitled to sixty thousand dollars. My sister-in-law still complained about that sixty thousand for a long time. Later, when my brother’s business went under, she came to me in a panic, begging. “Chloe, your brother can’t hold on much longer. Look…” I cut her off, pulling out my phone. “Give me your account number, Sarah. I’ll transfer thirty thousand.” The day the buyout money hit the accounts, my phone pinged with a text from the bank. Almost simultaneously, my brother, Mark, called. His voice was low. “Did you get it?” “I got it.” I stared at the long string of zeros on my screen, feeling a little hollow. “Three million. You hold onto it for now.” “Mark, this is too much.” “It’s not. It was Mom and Dad’s house. Half of it rightfully belongs to you.” From the background of the call, I heard Sarah’s muffled voice yelling, “Who are you talking to? Sneaking around.” Mark immediately said, “I gotta go. Remember, don’t tell anyone. Especially Sarah.” “Why?” “You know how she is. Just trust me.” The call disconnected. Before I could even process the shock of that massive sum, a message popped up in the family group chat. It was from Mark. “Chloe’s sixty thousand has been transferred.” Sarah replied instantly: “Finally. Now that’s settled.” A second later, she sent another message: “If you ask me, a married daughter is like spilled water. Giving her that sixty thousand was too much. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s struggling on her own, she shouldn’t have gotten a dime.” The group chat fell dead silent. I gripped my phone, staring at the words, and said nothing. That evening at dinner, Sarah brought it up again. “Mark, did Chloe even say thank you for that sixty thousand?” Mark kept his head down, shoveling rice into his mouth, and mumbled, “Yeah, she did.” “Hmph. At least she has some conscience.” Sarah picked up a piece of rib and dropped it into her son’s bowl. “That money was supposed to be for Leo’s college fund. Giving it away to an outsider just rubs me the wrong way.” “What outsider? She’s my blood sister,” Mark said, irritation creeping into his voice. “So what if she’s your sister? Even brothers have to keep their finances straight. She’s going to marry into another family eventually. Why are you being so good to her?” “Enough. Let’s just eat.” Mark clearly didn’t want to fight. But Sarah had no intention of stopping. She looked at Mark pointedly and said, “I just worry that some people are too eager to give our family’s money away to outsiders. Mark, let me remind you, our family is counting on this buyout money now. Don’t do anything stupid.” Mark slammed his chopsticks down. The bowl hit the table with a sharp clack. “What exactly are you trying to say?” “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Sarah shrank back slightly, but her mouth kept running. “I just think people need to have a conscience. Our family took the lion’s share, giving her sixty thousand was already extremely generous. If she knew what was good for her, she would have returned it.” “In your dreams!” Mark roared. Their five-year-old son, Leo, jumped at the shout and burst into tears. Sarah quickly hugged him and started crying herself. “Fine! Mark Davis, you’re yelling at me now? You’re yelling at me and your son for your sister? I’m only thinking about this family! Do you know how many tutoring classes that sixty thousand could have paid for?!” The atmosphere in the house plummeted to freezing. Mark looked at her, his eyes filled with exhaustion. I knew this was only the beginning. For the next month, Sarah complained about that sixty thousand dollars almost every single day. “The neighbor’s daughter didn’t get a cent, and she’s perfectly happy.” “Karen from our subdivision—her sister-in-law actually gave her brother thirty thousand to help buy a car.” “Sigh. Comparing people just makes you mad. Why did I get stuck with a sister-in-law like this?” She would say these things in the family group chat, or post them on Facebook, specifically blocking me from seeing them—but I always heard about it from other relatives. I never replied. Not once. I just quietly moved that three million into a high-yield CD and set a very complex password. Mark would occasionally message me privately. “Don’t take what your sister-in-law says to heart.” “I know.” “Keep that money safe. That’s my safety net for you.” “You too, Mark.” I didn’t know if he understood what I meant. I hoped he did. After getting the buyout money, Mark was incredibly motivated. He had always wanted to start his own business but never had the capital. Now, with cash in hand, he aggressively leased a storefront and started a construction materials supply business. Sarah was entirely on board at first. She posted pictures of the new store on Facebook every day, calling Mark a business genius who was about to strike it rich. I went to the grand opening. As soon as Sarah saw me, she grabbed my hands, smiling so widely her face scrunched up. “Chloe, look how capable your brother is. When our family gets rich, we’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” It was as if she had completely forgotten how she had obsessed over that sixty thousand dollars. I just smiled faintly. “It’s good that Mark is doing well.” “Of course.” she puffed out her chest, pulled me aside, and lowered her voice. “Chloe, look, the store just opened, and we need money for everything right now. That sixty thousand isn’t doing much just sitting in your hands. Why don’t you… lend it to your brother for cash flow for a bit?” I looked at her, my heart turning ice cold. “Sarah, that’s my living expense money.” “Oh, come on, how much can one person spend? Besides, that money belonged to our family in the first place. Isn’t it only right that you lend it to your brother now?” Her tone was so entitled, as if the money inherently belonged to her. I pulled my hand away and didn’t speak. Her face changed instantly. She pulled a long face and muttered, “Ungrateful brat.” It wasn’t loud, but I heard it clearly. For the first few months, the business really was booming. Mark was full of energy, looking ten years younger. Sarah was even more insufferable. She posted eight times a day about new designer bags, manicures, and check-ins at high-end restaurants. 她 started organizing frequent family dinners, always rushing to pick up the check. At the dinner table, she constantly made passive-aggressive comments directed at me. “Chloe, how is the single life treating you? Work going okay?” “It’s fine,” I said, keeping my head down. “Sigh. Why do girls need to work so hard? Look at your brother. His business is taking off; he can easily support our whole extended family.” She paused, pivoting sharply. “Speaking of which, that sixty thousand isn’t earning much interest in the bank. Why not listen to me and invest it in your brother’s store? We’ll give you dividends at the end of the year. Isn’t that better than a dead savings account?” Mark kicked me under the table, giving me a look. I pretended not to notice and just said, “I don’t understand business. I’ll pass.” Sarah’s face fell again. “Why are you so stubborn? I’m only offering you this chance to make money because we’re family. Other people beg for this kind of opportunity.” The atmosphere became awkward. A distant relative chimed in to smooth things over: “The younger generation has their own ideas, don’t worry so much about it.” Sarah dropped it, but she didn’t give me a pleasant look for the rest of the meal. On the way home, Mark called me. “Ignore her. She’s just obsessed with money.” “I know.” “If she brings it up again, just tell me.” “Okay.” I hung up, watching the city lights blur past the window. Honestly, I had seen the warning signs in Mark’s business for a while. He expanded too fast, hired too many people, and unnecessary overhead was crushing him. Every time he saw me, he claimed everything was fine, but the bloodshot eyes and exhaustion he couldn’t hide told a different story. But he didn’t say anything, and it wasn’t my place to ask. He was the man of the house, the provider. He had his pride. Sure enough, the good times didn’t last. The market shifted unpredictably. The developers downstream ran out of capital, leaving Mark with a massive pile of unpaid invoices. The store’s cash flow collapsed overnight. First came the layoffs, then selling off the delivery trucks. The tone of Sarah’s Facebook posts changed too. Instead of bragging, she started sharing “inspirational” quotes and articles about “never giving up.” She stopped organizing family dinners and barely spoke in the group chat. The atmosphere in their home grew increasingly suffocating. One day, I bought some fruit and went to visit them. When the door opened, a heavy cloud of cigarette smoke hit my face. Mark was sitting on the couch, the ashtray by his feet overflowing. He had lost a significant amount of weight, his beard was scruffy, and his eyes were hollow. Sarah sat on the other side, her eyes red and swollen. She glared at me with pure resentment. “Why are you here?” she asked icily. “I came to see Mark.” “See him? You came to laugh at him?” Sarah suddenly stood up, pointing at Mark. “Look at him! This is all because of you! You jinx!” I froze. “If he had listened to me and just put the money in the bank, none of this would have happened! But no, he had to start a business! And now the money is gone!” She turned her fury on me. “And you! If you had a shred of conscience, if you had just given him that sixty thousand when he needed it, he wouldn’t be in this mess! You’re cold-blooded! Ungrateful!” She was screaming hysterically. Mark suddenly stood up and slapped her hard across the face. “Shut your mouth!” The living room fell dead silent, save for Sarah’s shocked gasp. She held her cheek, massive tears rolling down her face. “Mark Davis, you hit me? You hit me for her?” “I hit you for running your toxic mouth!” Mark was shaking with rage. “The business failing is my fault. It has nothing to do with Chloe! Try saying one more crazy word, I dare you!” Sarah collapsed onto the floor and started wailing. The sound was shrill, ear-piercing, full of despair and grievance. Standing at the door, watching this absolute disaster, my chest felt incredibly tight. I placed the fruit on the shoe rack and said softly, “Mark, I’m going to head out.” I turned and walked downstairs. The crying and arguing faded behind me. I knew the real storm was yet to come. After that, Mark didn’t contact me again. I knew he was trying to endure it alone. He didn’t want me to see him look any more pathetic. Until one afternoon, an unknown number called my phone. It was Sarah. Her voice was hoarse and exhausted, completely lacking her usual arrogance. “Chloe, where are you?” “At home.” “Can you… come out for a bit? I’m at the coffee shop downstairs from your apartment.” My stomach dropped. I knew the inevitable had arrived. I changed and went downstairs. I spotted her from a distance, sitting by the window. She looked incredibly haggard, wearing a faded old jacket, her hair a mess. Her former polished look was completely gone. Seeing me, she forced a smile that looked worse than crying. “Chloe, you’re here.” I sat across from her and didn’t speak. She stirred her black coffee for a long time before struggling to speak. “Your brother… he can’t hold on much longer.” Her eyes instantly reddened. “He’s drowning in debt. People are coming to the house every day demanding money. The store is closed, we sold everything we could, and there’s still a massive hole we can’t fill.” She looked up at me with pleading eyes. “Chloe, I know I was wrong before. I apologize. But right now, you are the only one who can help us.” She pulled a crumpled debit card from her purse and pushed it toward me. “I know you still have that money. Your brother told me everything. He gave you… he gave you a lot.” Looking at her, I finally understood. Mark couldn’t handle the pressure and confessed. I just didn’t know how much he had confessed. “Chloe, please, I’m begging you. Take the money out and save your brother’s life! If this continues, those debt collectors will drive him to his grave!” She looked like she was about to get on her knees. I held her arms, looked her dead in the eye, and asked slowly, deliberately. “How much did Mark say he gave me?” Sarah froze. Her eyes darted away, and she stammered, “He… he said… he gave you a few extra tens of thousands to round it up…” I sneered internally. Even now, at the absolute edge, he was still preserving his final shred of dignity—or rather, he was still guarding against her. He hadn’t told her the truth. Seeing my silence, Sarah grew more frantic. “Chloe, your brother can’t hold on much longer. Look…” I cut her off, pulling out my phone and opening my banking app. “Give me your account number, Sarah.” Her eyes lit up instantly, like she had grabbed a lifeline. She hurriedly rattled off the account number. I entered it, then moved to the amount field. I typed a ‘3’. Followed by four zeros. “I’ll transfer thirty thousand.” Sarah’s expression froze. The light in her eyes visibly died. “How much?” she asked, as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “Thirty thousand.” I turned the screen toward her so she could see the number clearly. “That’s all I can give.” “Thirty thousand?” Her voice spiked, sharp as nails on a chalkboard. “Chloe Davis! What is thirty thousand going to do? Are you tossing change to a beggar?” People in the coffee shop turned to look at us. She bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Your brother needs money to save his life! And you? You pull out thirty thousand to humiliate us? Do you have any conscience at all? After everything your brother did for you?!” I looked at her calmly and pulled my phone back. “Sarah, Mark gave me sixty thousand initially. The whole family knows that. I haven’t touched a dime of it. I’ve been working for a few years and saved twenty thousand myself. That’s eighty thousand total. I’m giving you thirty, keeping fifty for my own living expenses. Is there a problem with that?”

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Right before the wedding ceremony was supposed to start, my mom found me, her face dark with anger. “Chloe, did you arrange the catering for the reception?” I nodded, confused. I had personally handled all the catering details. We even went to several different hotels for tastings before settling on this one. My mom froze for a second, then glared at me. “Are you out of your mind?! I gave you thirty thousand dollars, and this is the garbage you serve at your wedding?!” “Your husband’s family gets top-shelf whiskey, premium steak, and lobster!” “And you serve our relatives cheap beer and generic chicken?!” “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is going to be for your father in front of our entire extended family?!” I was completely stunned. We paid for the exact same premium catering package for every single table. How could there be such a massive discrepancy? Just as I was about to storm out of the bridal suite to find the hotel manager, my husband, Liam, grabbed my arm. “The ceremony is about to start. If you go now, you’ll delay the schedule and ruin the timing.” Then, he muttered under his breath: “Besides, I’m the one who told them to change it. Why would you go yell at the hotel?” 1 Even though Liam muttered it under his breath, I heard him perfectly clearly. My brain stalled for a second before the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The two-tiered catering—the blatant disrespect toward my family—was Liam’s doing! I forced down the raging fire in my chest and tried to keep my voice level. “Why? I paid the hotel in full for the premium package. Why did you change it?” “You downgraded the food and drinks for my side of the family. How are my relatives supposed to look at my parents now?” “Did you even consider for a second that after this wedding, my parents won’t be able to show their faces in front of our family and friends?” Despite my best efforts to stay calm, my voice unconsciously rose into a shout. Liam looked away, too guilty to meet my eyes. My mom’s face was livid. She was breathing heavily, on the absolute verge of an explosion. But maintaining the elegant, composed image she had cultivated for years, she held it in and said to me in a low, tight voice: “The ceremony starts in thirty minutes. I am giving you exactly ten minutes to find a reasonable solution to this mess.” After she finished, my mom shot Liam an icy, lethal glare, turned on her heel, and walked out. The bridal suite fell dead silent. The only sound was our breathing. “Honey, please, just listen to me explain…” After a long, uncomfortable silence, Liam took a deep breath and reached out to take my hand. I took a step back, pulled up a chair, sat down, and stared at him silently. Liam awkwardly withdrew his hand and scratched his head, pretending it wasn’t a big deal. “Look, honey. The premium catering package is eight hundred dollars a table. We booked twenty-eight tables, plus three reserves.” “If we used the premium package for everyone, the money your mom gave you wouldn’t be enough.” “Plus, your family alone takes up twenty-one tables! If we kept the premium package, we’d end up having to pay the difference out of our own pockets!” Liam counted on his fingers, eagerly breaking down the math for me. “But changing the package changes everything!” A look of calculated greed flashed in his eyes—a look I had never seen before. My heart grew colder by the second. This hidden side of Liam was completely rewriting my understanding of the man I was about to marry. “I talked to the hotel manager and downgraded the catering for your family’s tables to the basic hundred-and-fifty-dollar package.” “By doing that, we’ll actually have money left over from your mom’s budget after the wedding! We can use that extra cash to take my parents on a nice vacation with us!” When Liam mentioned the vacation, his eyes lit up with excitement. It was as if he was already sitting on a beach with his parents. I, on the other hand, was completely dumbfounded. I never, in my wildest dreams, imagined he would go behind my back like this. Sneaking off to the hotel manager to downgrade the food, without even bothering to consult the person who was actually paying the bill. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear my own wedding to the ground! 2 But then I thought about our three-year relationship, and all the relatives waiting outside. I was trapped. This was the man I had fought my parents so hard for, blinding myself to all his red flags. We were already at the venue. The guests were seated. Backing out now would be a catastrophic, humiliating scandal. I took a deep, shaky breath, trying my absolute hardest not to lose my mind. “Go find the manager right now and change the catering back to the premium package.” “My parents paid for this reception. You know exactly what was agreed upon.” “More importantly, today isn’t just about my extended family. My dad’s business partners and clients are out there.” “Did you even think about the consequences of insulting them like this?” The excited, daydreaming look on Liam’s face instantly vanished, replaced by a sullen scowl. “I can’t change it back… I told the manager to downgrade the order the very next day after you finalized the menu.” “The kitchen definitely prepped all the food in advance!” “Besides, they’re just here to celebrate our marriage. Who actually cares if the food is a little cheap?” It felt like a ball of fire was lodged in my throat. I was literally shaking with rage. “Then go out there and tell your relatives they’re sitting at the wrong tables! Tell them to switch!” “Let my dad’s business partners sit at the tables with the top-shelf liquor and steak! All the relatives get the basic package!” The moment I suggested moving his family, Liam stiffened defensively. He stuck his neck out and argued back: “We can’t do that! How humiliating would it be to serve my family cheap food?!” I let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. Oh, so now he understands it’s humiliating. But he was perfectly fine serving that exact same garbage to my family? “Besides, they’re already seated! If I make them move now, how am I supposed to look them in the eye?!” “Are you trying to ruin me?!” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I slammed my hand down hard on the vanity table. CRASH! Everything on the table swept onto the floor. I stood up and screamed at him: “And what exactly are YOU doing to ME?!” “Did you forget that when we were negotiating this wedding, your family cried poverty over and over again?!” “I felt bad for you! I didn’t ask you to pay a single cent! I let your family eat and drink for free on my dime, under the strict condition that everyone received the exact same premium treatment!” “And what happens? I pay the bill, and I end up being the one humiliated?!” “That is not how the world works! Liam, do you still want to get married or not?!” I roared at Liam, and the suffocating pressure in my chest finally eased a fraction. I took a deep breath of air. Liam was completely stunned that I would threaten to call off the wedding. He stared at me, his eyes wide in disbelief, looking like a chicken being choked. Before Liam could even utter a word, the door to the bridal suite was violently kicked open. “How dare you speak to my son like that?!” 3 “You aren’t even officially married yet, and you’re already screaming at your man? You think you run this house?!” My mother-in-law, Martha, stormed into the room and slapped me hard across the face. Feeling the burning, stinging pain on my cheek, my mind went completely blank. I stared at this wicked, vicious old woman in utter shock. Martha’s face was twisted in pure malice. There was absolutely no trace of the sweet, loving future mother-in-law she had pretended to be. In that moment, I realized with chilling clarity that all her previous kindness had been an act. This was her true face! Liam was also shocked by his mother bursting in and slapping me. Snapping out of it, he hurried over to check my face. “Mom! What are you doing?! The ceremony hasn’t even started, and you just slapped her face swollen!” “When we go out there, what are the guests going to think?!” Martha yanked Liam behind her, shielding him, and glared at me with absolute venom. “The wedding is about to start, and you two are in here screaming like animals! What is wrong with you?!” “And I heard you actually had the nerve to demand my family switch tables?!” “Do you still want to marry into this family or not?!” Holding my stinging, swelling cheek, a wave of profound regret washed over me. If I had known his family was like this, I never would have fought my parents so bitterly to marry Liam. When our families first sat down to discuss the wedding, I, trying to be understanding of Liam’s financial situation, directly told my parents we didn’t need a dowry, an engagement ring, or any of the traditional expensive gifts. I told them if I saw something I liked, I would just buy it myself. I didn’t need his family to pay for it. My parents strongly disagreed, but because I was so incredibly stubborn, they eventually caved. They even bought me a brand-new car as a wedding gift out of their own pockets. When it came time to discuss the reception, my in-laws looked visibly disgusted when my parents mentioned we had a large extended family and would need around twenty tables. “Look, it’s not that I’m being cheap, but I just don’t agree with bringing that many people to a wedding reception.” “Twenty tables? That is ridiculous!” “Are you just inviting every random person you’ve ever met? Do you have any idea how much that’s going to cost?!” “Besides, if you invite all those people, they’re going to give cash gifts. Who gets to keep that money?” My mom instantly lost her temper. “That is exactly how large our extended family is! And I’m actually giving you a conservative estimate!” “Who keeps the cash gifts from our side of the family is none of your business!” “Even if I give every single cent of it to my daughter, that is her personal asset, and it has absolutely nothing to do with your family!” After being chewed out by my mom, Martha muttered something under her breath in defense. I forget the exact words. But the gist of it was that my mom was a greedy, calculating woman who was trying to pack the reception with freeloaders just to recoup all the wedding gifts she had given out over the years, all without spending a dime of her own money. Meanwhile, even if every single one of Liam’s relatives showed up, they wouldn’t fill ten tables. Thirty tables for a reception was simply too expensive. They claimed that after giving Liam the money for a down payment on a house, they had absolutely nothing left for the wedding. Hearing Martha say that, my mom was ready to grab me and walk out right then and there. But I, being young, naive, and completely blinded by love, physically blocked my parents from leaving. I stubbornly defended Martha, insisting there must be a misunderstanding, that she couldn’t possibly mean it like that. My parents were exhausted by my stubbornness. My mom looked at me with deep disappointment. She raised her hand as if to slap some sense into me, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she gave me another thirty thousand dollars specifically to cover the cost of the reception. The moment Martha heard she didn’t have to pay a single cent for the wedding, her face instantly lit up. She grabbed my hand, acting as if the entire ugly argument had never happened. “Oh, Chloe is truly the best daughter-in-law a mother could ask for!” “Don’t you worry, once you marry into our family, I promise I will treat you like my own flesh and blood!” 4 She even promised my parents that once I married Liam, she would never let me suffer. Back then, I was stupid enough to believe that Martha had only insulted my parents because she was genuinely stressed about money. But seeing her now, looking like she wanted to eat me alive… I finally saw her for what she truly was. “Then let’s call it off!” “You refuse every option I give you to fix this, so there’s absolutely no point in continuing this wedding.” “Liam, take your mother and your relatives, and get the hell out of here!” “I’ll just treat today as a private dinner party for my family and friends!” I screamed at Liam, completely ignoring Martha’s existence. “We can’t do that! The guests are already here! We have to get married!” “Mom, if we have to, let’s just listen to Chloe and have our family switch tables.” Liam tugged at his mother’s sleeve, whispering nervously. Martha glared at me darkly. She pulled Liam aside and hissed: “Are you an idiot? She practically begged to marry you, paying her own way. There is no way she’s going to call off the wedding!” “If you cave to her demands now, she’s going to walk all over you for the rest of your life!” “Listen to me. She doesn’t have the guts to cancel the wedding. She’s just bluffing!” Martha finished her whisper and shot a cautious glance back at me. I found it hilarious. The bridal suite was tiny. Did she really think taking two steps back meant I couldn’t hear every word she said? “Chloe, it’s not that I’m trying to be difficult, but the guests are already seated. We can’t just make them move.” “Listen to me. You’re marrying Liam today. What’s wrong with letting his family eat a little better?” “Once you’re married and living your life, our relatives will remember your generosity.” Martha spoke with sickening sweetness, acting as if she and her son were doing this entirely for my benefit. If this were the past, when my brain was completely clouded by love, I might have actually fallen for it. But that sudden slap to the face had violently woken me up to exactly what kind of person she was. Seeing Liam cowering behind his mother, utterly devoid of a spine… I lost every last shred of hope I had for him. “I don’t need them to remember my generosity! I only know that I paid the bill!” Seeing that I wasn’t falling for her manipulation, Martha immediately dropped the act. “Ha! You little ungrateful bitch, you just refuse to listen to reason, don’t you?!” She looked up at her son and declared loudly: “Son, if we don’t get married, we don’t get married! With your looks, you can find any woman you want!” “She’s obsessing over a few plates of food like a psychotic cheapskate. I told you not to marry her from the start!” “Look at her now, showing her true colors!” “I told you to find a girl from a rich family, and we wouldn’t be dealing with this garbage!” I froze. His mother actively wanted him to marry a rich girl? So basically, Martha wanted her son to be a gold-digger. And I, the ultimate sucker, had just been completely blind to it all this time. Hearing his mother say she was fine with calling off the wedding, Liam panicked. He leaned in close to his mother’s ear and whispered: “Mom, we can’t call it off! Where am I going to find a rich girl?!” “With our background, being able to marry her…” Martha aggressively shook her head, patting Liam’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, son. Her dad manages a factory. She wouldn’t dare humiliate her family by calling off a wedding!” “She’s just bluffing! She can’t afford the embarrassment!”

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