Because my husband Adrian froze all my bank cards, I went to his company to ask for money for my prenatal checkup. I accidentally walked in on him having sex with his childhood sweetheart, Summer Cole. I touched my still-unborn child, swallowed my tears, and walked in calmly. “Give me two thousand dollars for the checkup, and I’ll leave right away.” Adrian sneered. “We’re in the middle of having sex, and you scared Summer. Apologize to her, and I’ll give you the money.” For the sake of my unborn baby, I immediately bent down to apologize, took the money, and left. Everyone thought I was a gold-digger clinging desperately for money. He cursed me the same way. It wasn’t until after I disappeared that Adrian realized his “embarrassing” wife had, by his own hands, become the woman every elite family wanted most. And when he knelt before me, begging me to look at him one more time in his bloody, broken state, I was holding another man’s arm, walking down the red carpet toward my wedding.

Joanna POV Three years after marrying Adrian Blackwood, I saw him passionately kissing his childhood sweetheart Summer Cole in his office. On the leather sofa I’d personally chosen, Adrian had Summer pinned beneath him. “Summer, I want you.” “So when are you signing the divorce papers to marry me?” Summer wrapped her arms around Adrian’s neck, her cool voice still tinged with fading desire. Standing outside the door, I froze. Tears streamed down my face without me even realizing it. My hand instinctively moved to my abdomen. I hadn’t forgotten my purpose for coming here-to ask Adrian for money for my prenatal checkup. Two months ago, after Summer returned to the country, Adrian made her the household manager and simultaneously cut off all my cards. I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my face, forced a smile, and pushed open the door to walk into the office. “Sorry to interrupt.” Hearing my voice, Adrian’s brow furrowed quickly. His body, which had been pressing down on Summer, immediately straightened, pulling distance between them. Summer’s expression darkened as she buttoned her shirt, concealing the kiss marks on her neck. Ignoring the awkward atmosphere in the room, I looked straight at Adrian. “I need to go to the hospital for a checkup today. I applied to Summer yesterday, but she didn’t reply, so I came here.” “How much do you need?” “Two thousand dollars.” Summer frowned, her cool face covered with a layer of frost. “Joanna, I already manage all the household affairs, and on top of that, I’m Blackwood Corporation’s Design Director. I don’t have time to approve every little expense you come up with. Don’t tell me you can’t afford two thousand dollars. Or are you just trying to make a scene in front of Adrian?” Adrian’s scrutinizing gaze shot into my heart like a knife, cutting it into countless tiny pieces. I smiled bitterly inside. After marriage, I hadn’t worked. Adrian cut off my cards, and the money I’d saved before marriage ran out in a month. My mother was still hospitalized, and everything required money. This month, even working three jobs a day wasn’t nearly enough. If I hadn’t been truly desperate, I wouldn’t have humiliated myself by asking. I looked up at Adrian. “Adrian, I’m still your wife. Are you giving me this money or not?” Deep in my heart, I still held hope for the man before me. If Adrian could choose me over Summer, for the sake of the child, I could pretend nothing had happened. “Give it? Of course I’ll give it.” Adrian sneered. “You married me for the Blackwood family money, didn’t you? But my money doesn’t grow on trees.” “Today you ruined my mood. Apologize to us, and you can take the money.” The humiliation was overwhelming. I could barely breathe. Mrs. Blackwood was right. Adrian truly loved Summer. I was just a stand-in. “I’m sorry for interrupting you two.” Adrian raised an eyebrow, clearly unsatisfied with my apology. I turned to Summer and bent at the waist. “The money’s been transferred to you. Don’t come to the company unless it’s necessary from now on.” I looked at the notification showing two thousand dollars deposited, lowered my head, and left the office. I don’t know how I walked out of the company. In a daze, I remembered three years ago when Adrian fell for me at first sight and pursued me frantically. He picked me up and dropped me off every day, gave me endless small gifts, and created various surprises for me. Just because I said I didn’t know what flowers I liked, he rented ten thousand acres of flower fields and let me choose one by one. Having never been treasured like that before, I fell. On our wedding registration day, Adrian looked like he owned the whole world, his eyes full of happiness and longing for the future. “Joanna, we’ll be happy for a lifetime.” But only three years later, he cheated with another woman. I picked up my phone and sent a message to Mrs. Blackwood. “You win. I accept defeat. Please fulfill your promise.” Soon I received a reply. “The divorce papers will reach you within three days. I’ll arrange your mother’s hospital transfer process. Three days from now, you leave New York and never come back.” I put away my phone and hailed a car to the hospital. Watching the scenery outside the window, I let out a long breath. Soon it would all be over. Three months ago, my mother’s small company was sabotaged, creating a huge funding gap. Mother didn’t want me to worry, so she faced those vicious debt collectors alone. I didn’t find out until the company went bankrupt and Mother was driven to a heart attack and admitted to the ICU. When I was desperate, not knowing how to ask Adrian for money, Mrs. Blackwood found me first. “I can pay for your mother to get the best treatment, but you have to make a bet with me.” Mrs. Blackwood had opposed my marriage from the start. Back then, Adrian fought his family elders for me and was severely punished, nearly losing half his life before Mrs. Blackwood relented. “Adrian’s ex-girlfriend is returning tomorrow. She and Adrian are perfectly matched, but three years ago, family circumstances forced her to go abroad. I’ll arrange for her to enter Blackwood Corporation. If within three months, Adrian still insists on only you, from then on I won’t make things difficult for you.” “But if he chooses Summer, you leave New York. In either case, I’ll give you money so your mother can get treatment.” At the time, I was supremely confident in our relationship, thinking this was a gamble that could both get Mother treatment and make Mrs. Blackwood fully accept me. Mrs. Blackwood handed me a card. “Don’t tell Adrian about this, and don’t play any tricks. I still have the final say at Blackwood Corporation.” I returned home to pack, constantly replaying the doctor’s words in my mind. “The baby’s developing well, but you’re already showing some signs of threatened miscarriage. During pregnancy, you need to maintain your physical and emotional wellbeing. Don’t overwork yourself.” I had no choice. Mother in the ICU was burning through money every day. Given Adrian’s current attitude toward me, he wouldn’t give me a cent. I could only rely on myself. Perhaps with my current situation, I shouldn’t keep this child at all. Closing my suitcase, I noticed a glaring red color in the bed crack. I walked over and picked it up. It was women’s underwear with traces of fluid still remaining. In that instant, my mind went blank. Adrian and Summer-they did it in our marital bedroom?

Joanna POV I wanted to wait for Adrian to come home and ask him clearly, but I waited until dawn without seeing anyone. I smiled bitterly. Adrian hadn’t come home much this past month-why did I think he’d come back today? My phone suddenly rang. It was Adrian calling. “Bring two boxes of condoms. I’ve sent you the address and the brand.” I opened the address Adrian sent-it was “Mystique,” New York’s largest nightclub. “Do you really have to humiliate me like this?” My voice trembled as I bit my lip hard. Was it because I’d already seen them this morning, so there was no need to hide it from me anymore? Adrian’s voice carried not a trace of emotion. “If you want to enjoy the glory and wealth of being a billionaire’s wife, you need the appropriate tolerance. Did you think you could just take my mother’s money for free?” Adrian’s words struck me like a bolt of lightning. So he’d been treating me so differently because he knew I’d taken money from Mrs. Blackwood. “Adrian, I didn’t-” “I only use this brand. If she can’t deliver it, don’t touch me anymore.” Summer’s cool voice came through the phone, extinguishing the hope that had just kindled in my heart. It was never just about the money. If Adrian loved me enough, trusted me enough, he wouldn’t think of me this way. His heart had long since left me. Nothing I said would matter. “I’ll order delivery for you. Hope you have fun.” I hung up and had just opened the delivery app when I received a message from Adrian. “This brand isn’t available for delivery. Get it here within thirty minutes, and I’ll give you a hundred thousand.” Thinking of my future with Mother, and the child in my belly, I replied: “Deal.” The Blackwood family driver had already finished work. At this hour, I couldn’t get a car at all. Walking down the street, I scanned a bike-share bicycle. Getting on it, I remembered two years ago when Adrian personally taught me to ride. Back then, I never would have imagined there’d be a day when I’d ride a bike to deliver condoms to him and another woman. I rode as fast as I could to the adult store, then headed to the nightclub. The sky suddenly started drizzling. I had no choice but to pedal desperately. Finally, right on time, I pushed open the private room door at the 29-minute mark. I was soaked through, my face pale, my lower abdomen aching faintly. I pulled the bag from inside my clothes and walked to Adrian. “Transfer the money.” Adrian took the bag and promptly transferred the money. “You really are willing to do anything for money. I transferred three hundred thousand-the extra is my compensation for sleeping with you these three years.” I ignored Adrian’s words. I’d already decided to leave, so I wouldn’t hold any more expectations for him. Now, except for money, nothing else mattered to me. Summer laughed lightly beside him. “Girls from ordinary families just can’t be presented in society. As long as someone gives you money, you’d sleep with anyone, right?” Hearing Summer’s words, the other men in the room all turned their gazes on me. Those naked stares made me feel sick. “How come I never noticed Joanna had such a good figure before?” “Adrian’s got Summer now-why not let us have some fun with her?” “Hahaha, a woman a billionaire’s had-just thinking about it is exciting!” Adrian’s expression darkened. He grabbed a glass from the table and smashed it at the feet of the jeering men. The glass shards cut several men’s faces, but not one dared dodge. “Shut up!” Adrian turned to look at me, picked up his jacket, and draped it over me to block the others’ gazes. “Joanna, who are you trying to seduce looking like that? Can’t live without a man? Can’t get money from me so you’re sizing up other targets?” I instinctively protested: “I didn’t. I rode a bike here. It’s raining outside…” Summer, sitting on the sofa, took a sip of wine and spoke softly. “It’s raining and you don’t know to have the driver take you or call a car? You deliberately rode a bike here-trying to scheme against Adrian like you did three years ago?” Three years ago, it was also a rainy day. I didn’t have an umbrella and got drenched like a drowned rat hiding at a bus stop. That very bedraggled appearance made Adrian fall for me at first sight. I looked at Adrian’s darkened face, knowing nothing I said would help. “Joanna, three years and you haven’t even upgraded your tactics? You really take me for a complete fool?” Adrian gripped my chin tightly, using so much force he nearly crushed my bones. I was pregnant, and combined with intense exercise and the rain, I was already at my limit. After a sharp pain in my lower abdomen, I lost consciousness. In the last moment before losing consciousness, I saw the blood spreading on my pants. Adrian completely panicked. “Get the car! To the hospital! Hurry!”

Joanna POV When I woke again, I was in the hospital. Adrian sat by my bed, tightly gripping my hand. Seeing me awake, Adrian quickly picked up the water cup and brought it to my lips. I turned my head away, my voice hoarse. “Where’s the baby?” Adrian showed a regretful expression. “Joanna, we’ll have another child.” I closed my eyes. Two lines of tears fell from the corners of my eyes. There would be no “next time.” Perhaps it was better the baby was gone. Rather than being born into an incomplete, unhappy family, better to be reborn into a good home. I don’t know how much time passed before I opened my eyes and looked at Adrian. “Adrian, did you ever love me?” I paused. “Or rather, do you really think I approached you for money?” Adrian froze for a second, then held my hand. “Joanna, of course I love you. Even if you approached me for money, it doesn’t matter. The baby’s gone. Can we erase the past and start over?” “What about Summer?” “Summer and I grew up together.” Adrian pressed his face tightly against my palm. “I love you and I love her, but don’t worry-you’ll always be Mrs. Blackwood. I’ll only have you two women, not like others in our circle with so many women.” Looking at the man before me, the last beautiful memory related to him in my heart collapsed. I understood. Adrian believed I approached him only for money. Now that the baby was gone, he’d decided to magnanimously forgive my past “scheming.” I couldn’t understand how someone could be so hypocritical, making infidelity sound so refreshing and sanctimonious. Summer entered the room. I seized the opportunity to pull my hand from Adrian’s. “Am I interrupting you two?” Summer stood at the door with sarcasm. Before Adrian could react, she spoke again. “I checked the hospital records. Yesterday morning you just had a prenatal checkup, so how come by evening you knowingly rode a bike in the rain while pregnant?” Adrian’s expression instantly darkened, his scrutinizing gaze sweeping over me. “Was it an accident…” Summer paused, then smiled meaningfully. “Or did you not want this baby and deliberately do this to frame me?” Summer walked forward and threw the documents in her hand into Adrian’s lap. “Look carefully. This crude tactic might fool Adrian, but it can’t fool me.” Adrian flipped through the documents, then looked up with a complex expression. “Do you have anything to say?” I opened my mouth but ultimately said nothing. What could I say? That the driver had finished work? That you couldn’t get a car in the villa district at dawn? Or that Mother was in the ICU and I desperately needed money? No matter how much I explained, in their eyes it would all just be excuses. My phone suddenly lit up. I opened the message. “Joanna, your mother’s condition is very poor. The account funds are depleted. If you wish to continue treatment, please pay promptly.” I immediately transferred the three hundred thousand Adrian had given me to the hospital account, then put down my phone and grinned at Adrian. “Yes, I did it deliberately. You and Summer are perfectly matched. Of course I need to make room for her. Considering how hard I worked and risked half my life, can you give me some money? A million dollars would be enough.” Adrian’s brow furrowed tightly, veins bulging on his forehead. “Joanna, you’re so money-crazy you’d even trade our child for cash?” “It was a life, after all. If you’re unwilling, would Summer be willing to pay?” It didn’t matter anymore-however Adrian saw me didn’t matter. I only needed money now. I had no time to contact Mrs. Blackwood. Even casting aside all dignity, as long as I could get money, I’d do anything. Summer placed her hand on Adrian’s to comfort him, indicating he should leave everything to her. Adrian silently stepped back, his eyes still fixed on me. “Want money? Of course you can have it. Though I don’t need you to make room for me-what’s mine will always be mine, not yours to give. But you did look after Adrian for three years. A million isn’t expensive.” Summer’s tone changed. “But I’m not as soft-hearted as Adrian. If you want money, you’ll have to pay a price.” “What price?” “Blackwood Corporation’s amusement park in New York is about to open. We need someone to personally test the extreme rides. Are you willing to contribute to the company?” I had no room to refuse. I changed clothes and went with them to the amusement park. Looking at the various high-altitude projects, my legs trembled uncontrollably, my face white as paper. When I was young, I was bullied by classmates who made me ride a roller coaster over a hundred times consecutively. Though my life wasn’t at risk, that rapid rising and falling sensation of weightlessness became a nightmare I could never forget. After marriage, Adrian discovered my unusual fear of heights and took me to see famous psychologists. Every time I woke from nightmares, he’d pull me into his arms to comfort me. I instinctively cast a pleading look toward Adrian, but only saw his cold eyes. I forced down my fear and looked at Summer with forced composure. “Transfer the money first.” Summer sneered. “You really will do anything for money. I’ll transfer five hundred thousand first. When all the projects are finished, I’ll transfer the remaining five hundred thousand.” I saw the notification of five hundred thousand arriving on my phone, nodded, and walked toward the tallest roller coaster and got on. As I was checking the safety measures, a roaring sound rang in my ears-the equipment had been started! Though it was only a dozen seconds, it felt incredibly long. The powerful airflow scraped my skin like sandpaper, my brain rapidly filling with blood. In a daze, I seemed to see Adrian proposing to me years ago. He knelt on one knee in the flower field and put a ring he’d made himself on my finger. Back and forth like this, I don’t know how many times. Finally stopping on the ground, I collapsed, unable to stop dry heaving. A staff member walked up to me. “Joanna, Adrian and Summer have already left. I’m in charge of the subsequent project testing. Each test will be fully videotaped. Can you continue?” I wiped away the blood seeping from my fingertips from gripping too hard and stood up supporting myself on the railing. “Let’s continue.”

Joanna POV Three hours later, I dragged my body, which had reached its limit, back to the villa. The villa’s main gate was tightly closed. I used my last bit of strength to press the doorbell, then uncontrollably slid to the ground. One minute… two minutes… ten minutes… No one opened the door for me. The electronic doorbell made a rustling sound as the camera turned toward my direction. “Joanna, Summer set a curfew. After nine o’clock, no one is allowed in or out. Find somewhere else to rest tonight.” After a beep, the sound completely disappeared, and the camera returned to its original position. My spirit, which I’d been forcing to hold together, reached its limit. Scenes related to Adrian flashed through my mind like a slideshow. On the manor lawn, Adrian once held me in his arms teaching me to weave flower crowns. By the Trevi Fountain in Rome, he and I threw coins together, making a wish to heaven for a lifetime together. I remembered again how Adrian fought the family elders for me that day, ultimately being severely whipped until bloody and mangled, yet still forcing a smile to comfort me. And the first time I was pregnant, the way he was genuinely happy from his heart, as if he wanted to give me the whole world. After the child was lost, he barely smiled for a whole year. The scene shifted, and I saw Adrian in the nightclub gripping my chin, humiliating me to the extreme. Tears flowed unconsciously. I seemed to have grown accustomed to this pain. If I could be given another chance, I wouldn’t want to fall in love with Adrian again. I completely lost consciousness and fainted outside the villa gate. Early the next morning, the servants woke me at the door. I swayed as I walked into the villa. I felt feverish all over, single-mindedly wanting only to get my luggage and leave the Blackwood home. Halfway up the stairs, I encountered Summer coming out of the bedroom. Summer wore only one of Adrian’s shirts. The red marks on her neck and chest all proclaimed how intense their night had been. I knew what she meant but didn’t want to pay attention. But Summer blocked my way first. “Joanna, you really have no shame. Even like this, you still want to stay by Adrian’s side?” Summer mocked in a voice only the two of us could hear. “I thought you’d have figured it out last night and wouldn’t have the face to come back.” Her finger slid toward the kiss marks on her body. “Adrian’s heart no longer has you in it. Or rather, he never loved you. From beginning to end, you were just my substitute.” I slowly raised my head, looked Summer in the eye, and said, “Excuse me. You’re in my way.” I wouldn’t show weakness before Summer. Regardless of her reaction, I strode to the room where I’d left my luggage. In my suitcase was a doll my father had made for me with his own hands. This was the only keepsake he’d left me. I had to take it. The moment I stood up, my vision went black. I steadied myself against the wardrobe for a while before returning to normal. During this time, I seemed to hear a scream from downstairs. I shook my head and carried my suitcase downstairs. Whatever happened had nothing to do with me anymore. As soon as I reached the living room, I saw Summer holding her arm with red, swollen eyes, leaning in Adrian’s embrace. Adrian’s face was dark. Seeing me, he immediately ordered the bodyguards: “Grab her!” Before I could react, a huge force came from behind my legs. My legs gave way and I knelt on the ground. The next second, my head was pressed firmly to the floor, and my lips were cut by my teeth, seeping blood. “Adrian, I just asked her a couple questions about where she went last night. I didn’t expect her to do this to me.” “She scattered nails in the living room! If I hadn’t reacted quickly, the nails would have pierced my foot instead of just scratching my arm!” I looked up in disbelief. “What nails? I didn’t!” The next second, the bodyguard searched me. Soon, he pulled out a dozen nails from my pocket. Adrian’s face darkened. “What do you have to say now?” I immediately looked at Summer. It was her! She was the one who stuffed them in my pocket on the stairs! I struggled desperately. “It wasn’t me! It was Summer-she framed me!” Adrian didn’t even give me a glance. He turned and carried Summer to the hospital, pausing at the door. “Even now you don’t know to repent. Since you like playing dirty tricks, take her to the basement for punishment.” “Count carefully for me. If it’s not a hundred lashes, you’ll make up the rest.”

Joanna POV I screamed until my voice was hoarse, but no one stopped. The bodyguards took me to the basement of the Blackwood estate-a place specifically for punishing people. On the cold concrete floor sat a punishment rack, still bearing bloodstains from the previous victim. Tremendous fear enveloped me. After these hundred lashes, I’d probably be torn to shreds. I desperately hugged a bodyguard’s thigh, shaking my head constantly. “I’m Adrian’s wife. You can’t do this to me. He’s just angry with me temporarily. If you really do this, he’ll hold you accountable later.” I had no confidence at all, but this identity was the only thing I had left to offer. “Let me go, please. I can give you money, as much as you want.” But the bodyguard completely ignored my words, only raising his hand to point at the surveillance camera in the upper right corner. “Joanna, don’t make things difficult for us. The boss has already given the order. The entire basement has complete surveillance coverage. We’re just following orders.” My hand dropped limply as I allowed the bodyguard to tie me to the rack. The rough whip fell mercilessly. Intense pain instantly swept through my entire body. My whole back was struck without mercy. My face instantly turned pale, cold sweat streaming from my forehead. I couldn’t help curling up, but it only brought me greater pain. At first, I could still feel the pain, even wishing I could pass out immediately. But soon, I lost all perception of my body, as if my soul had left and was watching this cruel punishment indifferently. The massive blood loss made me feel an exhaustion from deep within my body. I even felt it would be good if I just fell asleep like this. I don’t know how much time passed. In a daze, I felt someone lifting me up. The restraints that had bound my wrists and ankles disappeared. The smell in the air became pungent. Many people in white clothes seemed to be constantly moving before my eyes. After that, I couldn’t remember anything clearly. When I regained consciousness again, my entire body was wrapped in gauze. I couldn’t move at all. The nurse making rounds noticed my movement and immediately called a doctor. The doctor shone a flashlight in my eyes twice, looked at the monitoring equipment indicators, and spoke to me. “You lost too much blood. Although we’ve given you a transfusion, you definitely won’t recover quickly. We’ve applied medicine to your wounds, but you need to be prepared. The wounds are too large. They’ll definitely scar.” I blinked to indicate I understood. “We couldn’t contact your family, but the person who brought you left sufficient funds in your account. Don’t worry. Rest and recover. You can be discharged in about two weeks.” I lay in the hospital for three days before I could finally get out of bed and move around. During this time, Adrian didn’t visit me once, but Summer hired a caregiver for me. Hospital life was boring. Every day I just stared at the ceiling or listened to sounds from the next room. The next room housed a newly married young couple. Because the wife had signs of threatened miscarriage, they’d been staying in the hospital for observation. Their room was always lively, with many visitors every day. They even sent me fruit twice. A child would be happy in such a family. Two weeks passed quickly. After the doctor checked my condition, he approved my discharge application. Before leaving, I wanted to see what my “fellow patient” next door actually looked like. I walked to the hospital room door. What I saw made me freeze in place as if struck by lightning. That couple I’d always thought was happy-it was Adrian and Summer. The happy family I’d envied all this time, even hoping my lost child would be reborn into- It was my husband and another woman. Just one wall apart. Adrian came to the hospital every day but never visited me once. Summer, lying in Adrian’s embrace inside the room, casually glanced at me by the door. First showing a bit of surprise, she then revealed a victor’s smile. I don’t know how I walked out of the hospital. I mechanically hailed a taxi, went back for my luggage, and picked up the divorce agreement Mrs. Blackwood had given me. Then I went to the airport, bought a ticket, and went through security. The whole process went smoothly, without a trace of hesitation. As if going faster would prevent the pain from catching up with me. Three hours later, I got off the plane in a small southern city. Feeling the air’s moisture so different from New York’s, I couldn’t help but redden my eyes. I was free.

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When the plane malfunctioned, Liam and I were both on board. In the tense atmosphere, everyone was writing their final messages. I gripped Liam’s hand tightly but caught a glimpse of him sending his message to my best friend, Riley. Liam pressed his lips together and, after a long pause, finally explained, “Don’t get the wrong idea. She’s the person we trust most, isn’t she?” Fortunately, it was a false alarm. I stepped off the plane on shaky legs and immediately called Riley. “Since he left all his assets to you, I might as well give him to you too.” On the other end of the line, Riley sounded frantic. “Nora, what are you talking about? I just saw the news about the plane malfunction. Are you okay? I’m on my way to the airport right now. Wait for me!” She quickly hung up. Liam walked beside me, saying helplessly, “Your parents and mine are getting older. I didn’t want to worry them, so I sent it to Riley instead! Alright, I apologize!” Liam pulled my hand and kissed my face. “Don’t be angry anymore. When Riley sees me, she’s definitely going to scold me. Can you bear to watch her lecture me?” My heart felt blocked. I walked away without a word. Liam chased after me, apologizing. When we reached the entrance, I saw Riley getting out of her car. The anxiety in her eyes didn’t seem fake. But I could see clearly—the first person she looked at was Liam. Then she rushed over to me and gave me a big hug before punching Liam’s shoulder. “You jerk! Why would you send a final message like that? You scared me to death!” Liam smiled. “Nothing happened, didn’t it? Besides, if something did happen, I trust you could handle everything for us! Nora’s still jealous of me!” He joked playfully. Riley rolled her eyes at him and pulled me to the car. I noticed how naturally they talked and joked together, without any sense of avoiding suspicion. When we got home, I made an excuse about being too tired and went back to the bedroom to rest. Lying in bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. I’d known Liam for eight years. We’d just returned from our honeymoon. I thought I understood him well. But earlier, when the plane malfunctioned and we faced life or death, I only thought about being with him forever. Yet Liam, with trembling hands, typed a few lines and sent them to Riley. He said it was a final message. But under the fear of death, my senses were heightened. I clearly saw those few lines he sent to Riley. All assets go to her. I dug my nails into my palm. Then I heard a voice from outside: “Nora, I’m walking Riley downstairs. I’ll be right back.” I quietly got up and came to the living room. I noticed he’d left his phone behind. In an instant, impulse took over. I walked over, entered the password, and opened his phone. I checked several apps but found nothing. Was I overthinking this? I thought it over, then with trembling hands clicked on settings and switched accounts. Sure enough, I accessed his alternate account. I didn’t even need to enter a password, probably because he used it frequently. Here, I saw his chat history with Riley. The earliest messages dated back eight years. Back then, I had just met Liam. Riley had known Liam before that. “You’re one lucky guy to know the most beautiful girl at our school. Nora’s pretty aloof—not everyone can catch her eye!” “Let’s take Nora to the badminton court today. She loves playing badminton! Don’t say I don’t help you out—just make sure you perform well!” “See how good I am to you? Nora’s my best friend. If you dare betray her, I’ll be the first one who won’t let you get away with it!” Later, their chats evolved from helping him pursue me, to playing sports and dating, and even to sex! From initial reluctance, to growing guilt, to excitement and passion. In just twenty minutes, I quickly skimmed through everything, photographing the information I needed, then exited and locked the screen. Then I opened my phone. At the parking space below, the two of them were hugging, briefly holding hands and touching each other, looking exactly like reluctant lovers saying goodbye. I took a deep breath. Something inside my heart completely collapsed.

I didn’t sleep all night. When Liam came back, he wrapped his arms around me from behind. His breathing near my ear made me feel sick. I pushed him away and went to the guest room. The next morning, I left early. If I continued staying under the same roof with him, I was afraid I’d throw up. When Liam called looking for me, I was at a law firm. I glanced at the divorce agreement, then answered the call. “Where did you go so early in the morning?” “The honeymoon’s over. I came to sort out my work.” I admired myself for being able to lie so calmly at this point. Liam seemed reassured. “Okay. I’m also busy today, so I won’t come home for lunch. I bought you a gift—remember to sign for it.” After hanging up, the lawyer across from me looked at me. “Are you okay?” Perhaps because I looked so terrible, he pushed a cup of hot water toward me. I smiled and thanked him, then added, “All of this goes to me. He’s the one at fault. I want ninety percent of the assets! He’s been having a long-term affair. He won’t refuse my demands. Just do as I say.” Perhaps sensing my bad mood, the gift Liam sent me was actually a handbag worth twenty thousand dollars. Immediately after, Riley called. “I’m so envious of certain people. He just wrote you a final message yesterday, and today he couldn’t wait to spend over twenty thousand on a bag for you. I’m telling you, don’t be too dramatic—just forgive him!” Listening to Riley make excuses for him on the phone, even blaming me for being too dramatic, I couldn’t help but find it funny. As if I was the petty one. After I stayed silent, Riley asked, “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you saying anything?” “I don’t really want to talk. Probably jet lag. I’m a bit tired,” I answered impatiently. “Then rest well. We’ll meet up later!” After hanging up, I quickly took action, searching all of Riley’s social media accounts. We’d been friends for years, but we’d only really been close for about five years—we grew closer because of Liam. I’d seen all her social media before, but without exception, I hadn’t found any issues. After thinking it over, I found an account in her following list with an avatar of a chubby cartoon girl—her favorite type. When I clicked on it, I discovered it was actually her alternate account. It was densely packed with records of her moments with Liam. Although the guy’s face wasn’t shown, I’d known Liam for eight years. I recognized him at a glance—whether it was a blurred silhouette or a fleeting side profile, this was Liam. Behind my back, they even had a little home together outside. I watched all her videos. In her bio, she’d written about Miss Fox and Mr. Rabbit who’d known each other for eight years and three months. “July 13, 2017. First time meeting Mr. Rabbit. Love at first sight! Took the initiative to get his contact info, then found out we go to the same university. Shamelessly joined the same club as him.” “October 1, 2017. My roommate and my crush also became friends. She’s really calculating—acting all cute the moment they meet. Don’t all men fall for that?” “She beat me to it after all! It hurts!” “December 25, 2017. Things are turning around. He says he still feels we have more in common!”

Over eight years, more than a thousand videos. I watched every single one. It was heartbreaking. Three months after Liam and I became official, he was already playing around with her. After a long while, anger surged through me. Liam, how could you face our eight years together! In that instant, I wanted to destroy him completely. It just so happened that the day after tomorrow was my mother-in-law’s birthday. In the years since I’d known Liam, his mother Diana had been truly good to me. But this time, I was bound to disappoint her. I boxed up the bracelet Diana had given me and bought a twenty-thousand-dollar wallet. I wrapped them together. The next morning, I reminded Liam, “Today’s your mom’s birthday. Come home early!” He agreed immediately, then turned and left. I took the day off, packed my luggage, and bought a large sledgehammer. I aimed at the wall and smashed down hard! Three hours later, the house was in ruins. I dragged my luggage and took the gifts, heading straight to Diana’s house. When I arrived, Riley was there too. Seeing me, she familiarly linked her arm with mine. “Nora, you’re finally here! We’ve been waiting forever!” I watched as she seated me, brought me water, acting like she was the hostess. Diana sat there smiling at her, not seeing anything wrong with this. My heart sank again. So they all knew. Only I didn’t know. “Where’s Liam?” It was already six o’clock. He should have been here by now. I took out my phone to message him when Riley said, “Liam said he has a meeting tonight. He’ll be about half an hour late!” Hearing this, I said coldly, “He’s certainly honest with you. I didn’t even know!” Riley froze, then smiled. “How would I know? Diana called him and I overheard! I just got here too. Liam said having more people would be livelier!” Diana took over. “That’s right. Liam’s busy at work. After a month-long honeymoon, he has too many tasks piled up. He must be swamped these days. Nora, you need to understand.” Before I could speak, Riley put her arm around my shoulder and smiled at Diana. “Our Nora is the most understanding. She definitely gets it, right?” I smiled without responding. Half an hour later, Liam finally arrived. As soon as he entered, he came to my side and started peeling an apple for me. Everyone sat together. The housekeeper brought out all the dishes. I also took out my gifts. “Happy birthday. This is my birthday gift for you!” Diana took the box. After opening it, there was clearly a wallet inside. Riley exclaimed beside her, “Nora, you really know how to choose! That must have cost a lot!” “Twenty thousand dollars.” Diana immediately set the box aside. “So expensive! No, no. Nora, you and Liam work hard for your money. Don’t spend so much!” I joked, “If I don’t spend this money, he’ll spend it on other women. I might as well buy you a gift with it!” Diana froze. “Child, don’t talk nonsense!” I smiled. “Look underneath. There’s more!” When Diana pulled out the small box underneath and opened it, her expression changed dramatically! “Nora, what does this mean?” Liam also grabbed my wrist. “Nora, what are you doing? Who returns a gift they’ve given?” Riley also patted me. “Nora, don’t be confused. You can’t give back a gift like this!” I looked at their faces—shocked, afraid, and panicked. Liam took the bracelet and was about to put it on my hand. I pulled my hand back and stood up directly. “That’s right. I’m returning it. I want a divorce!”

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Derek pushed the divorce agreement in front of me. I glanced at it. The house goes to him, the car goes to him, savings split fifty-fifty. “Fifty-fifty?” I laughed. “There’s only thirty thousand in the account. You want to take fifteen thousand?” “This is just a fake divorce.” He frowned. “I need to guarantee a loan for a friend’s startup. I can’t have any debts under my name.” I stared into his eyes. He looked away. “Fine.” I picked up the pen. He visibly relaxed. He had no idea — I’d been waiting three years for this day. On the day we signed, Derek took half a day off work. Outside the courthouse, he even put on a show. “Sarah, I’m sorry to put you through this.” He held my hand. “Three months at most. Once I sort out the situation, we’ll remarry.” I nodded. “I’ve got it all arranged. You’ll move in with my mom for now.” “No need.” I pulled my hand back. “I’ll stay at my parents’ place.” He paused. “Your parents’ place? That’s so inconvenient…” “We’re divorced now. How can I still live with you?” He opened his mouth but said nothing. When we were processing the paperwork, the clerk asked if we’d thought this through. Derek rushed to answer: “We’ve thought it through.” I echoed: “We’ve thought it through.” He relaxed again. Outside the courthouse, he offered to drive me to my parents’ house. “No need.” I hailed a cab. “You go handle your business.” After the car had gone about fifty meters, I saw him through the rearview mirror, standing in place on his phone. His expression was relaxed, even smiling. I looked away and sent a text to my best friend, Madison. “It’s done.” She replied instantly: “What’s next?” “Wait.” I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. Five years ago when I married Derek, I thought I was marrying for love. He was three years older than me, working as a sales manager at a private company, making just over twenty thousand a month. I was an elementary school teacher making eight thousand, later raised to twelve thousand. When we got married, we bought an apartment on the east side of town. The down payment was eighty thousand. I paid fifty thousand — five years of savings plus twenty thousand from my parents. He paid thirty thousand. The monthly mortgage was eight thousand. I covered five thousand, he paid three. After marriage, I thought we were building our future together. He thought I was an ATM. The turning point came three years ago. That day I came home early and heard him on the balcony on the phone. “…Don’t worry, just wait a bit longer. When the time’s right, I’ll dump her…” I stood in the living room, frozen. He hung up and turned around. When he saw me, his expression changed for a split second before quickly returning to normal. “Who were you talking to?” I asked. “A client. A difficult client.” He walked over with a smile. “Why are you home so early?” I looked into his eyes and said nothing. From that day on, I started paying attention. I opened a bank account he didn’t know about and deposited two thousand every month. I quietly verified the details on our property deed. I checked his credit report and looked into his assets. The more I investigated, the colder my heart became. In five years of marriage, he’d registered a company under his name with fifty thousand in capital. I didn’t know a single thing about it. And our “joint savings” account always maintained a balance hovering around thirty thousand. Where did the money go? I didn’t ask. If I asked, he’d have a hundred excuses. I just waited. Waited for him to slip up on his own. Now, he’d finally made his move. A fake divorce. His reason: guaranteeing a friend’s loan. Laughable. That “friend” he wanted to help — I’d already investigated her. It was a woman.

When I got back to my parents’ house, my mom Elena looked worried. “Really just one month?” “Mom, I know what I’m doing.” “What about the house?” “Temporarily his.” My mom panicked: “Are you crazy? You paid the down payment on that house, and you’ve been paying most of the mortgage every month!” “Mom.” I held her hand. “It’s a fake divorce, not a real one. After we remarry in a month, the house will still belong to both of us.” This was Derek’s line. My mom was skeptical: “Well… you better keep a close eye on things.” “Don’t worry.” My dad Thomas sat nearby smoking, silent. Only after my mom went to the kitchen to cook did he speak. “Sweetie, are you hiding something from us?” I looked at him. “You’ve always been like this. The bigger the issue, the less you say.” He tapped ash from his cigarette. “But whatever decision you make, I support you.” My eyes felt hot. “Dad, I might need to stay here for a while.” “Stay as long as you want.” That night, Derek sent me a text. “Did you get home okay?” “Yes.” “Good. Rest well. Once things are sorted here, I’ll come get you.” “Okay.” The phone screen went dark. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The next day, I took my annual leave. Madison asked me: “What’s your plan for investigating?” “Start with that woman.” “You know who she is?” “I do.” I handed her my phone. “I found out a year ago.” On the screen was a photo. A young woman, around twenty-six or twenty-seven, with long hair and delicate features. The photo was taken at a café. Derek sat across from her. They were smiling. “This is…” Madison’s eyes widened. “Vanessa Clarke, the accountant at his company.” I said. “That company Derek owns — on paper it’s his, but she has a share too.” “How do you know?” “Public business registration records. Two shareholders: Derek owns sixty percent, Vanessa Clarke owns forty.” Madison gasped. “There’s more.” I pulled up another image. “This is another property under Derek’s name, on the west side of town. Eighty-three square meters.” “What? He has another apartment?” “Yes. Bought two years ago. Down payment of forty thousand, mortgage of one hundred twenty thousand. The delivery address on the purchase contract is Vanessa Clarke’s address.” Madison looked at me: “How long have you been investigating?” “On and off, three years.” She was silent for a moment: “Why didn’t you confront him earlier?” “Not enough evidence.” I put my phone away. “And I wanted to see how far he’d actually go.” “And now?” “Now,” I smiled slightly, “he’s delivered himself to my doorstep.” In the fake divorce agreement, the house goes to him, the car goes to him. This house is worth three hundred fifty thousand. This car is worth twenty-three thousand. And the “joint savings” only listed thirty thousand. He thought I didn’t know his company made over eighty thousand in profit last year. He thought I didn’t know about his apartment on the west side. He thought I was an idiot. He wanted to use a fake divorce to leave me with nothing. Then openly be with that woman. Too bad he miscalculated.

Three days after the divorce, Derek called. “Sarah, there’s a complication with the guarantee. Might need to wait a few more days.” My tone was calm: “How long?” “About… two or three weeks.” “Okay.” “Don’t worry. When it’s done, I’ll personally come get you and bring you home.” “Alright.” After hanging up, I stared at the call log. He’d stopped calling me “honey.” The change came quickly. Madison asked me out to dinner and wanted to know my next move. “I’m going to meet someone.” “Who?” “Derek’s mom.” “Why would you meet her?” “To test the waters.” The next day, I brought fruit to my ex-mother-in-law Helen’s house. When she saw me, her expression showed a moment of awkwardness, but quickly returned to normal. “Sarah, come in and sit.” “Helen, I came to check on you.” She took the fruit: “You’re so thoughtful, even after the divorce.” I laughed coldly inside but kept my face neutral. “Helen, what’s Derek been busy with lately? He mentioned guaranteeing a loan for a friend. Who’s this friend?” Her hand paused. “I’m not really sure. I don’t get too involved in Derek’s business.” “Really?” I smiled. “Is this friend’s last name Clarke?” Her expression froze. “Vanessa Clarke, right?” I looked at her. “Helen, have you met her?” The living room fell silent for a few seconds. She set down the fruit, her face changing: “Sarah, what are you implying?” “Nothing.” I stood up. “Just asking.” “You…” She pointed at me. “You’re divorced and you’re still here causing trouble?” “Helen, I’m not causing trouble.” I picked up my bag. “Your son started this with me. Fake divorce, ha.” “That was for your own good! Once the guarantee thing is done…” “Helen,” I interrupted her, “how old is the child Vanessa Clarke gave him?” Her face went white as a sheet. I walked to the door and looked back at her. “Tell Derek I have something for him.” Outside the complex, I called Madison. “Confirmed. There’s a child.” “How can you be sure?” “Her reaction.” I took a deep breath. “Also, that phone call three years ago when Derek said ‘when the time’s right I’ll dump her’ — I finally understand what he meant.” Madison fell silent on the other end. “Their child should be over two years old now.” I said. “The timing matches perfectly. Three years ago was right when that child was conceived.” “Sarah…” “I’m fine.” My voice was calm. “I was mentally prepared for this.” But after hanging up, I squatted by the roadside and cried for a long time. Not because I was heartbroken. But because the breath I’d been holding for three years finally had an outlet.

Derek quickly learned I’d visited his mother. He called, his tone clearly off. “Sarah, what were you doing at my mom’s?” “Checking on her.” “Why were you asking her about Vanessa Clarke?” “I didn’t say much. Just asked who this friend you need to guarantee for is.” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. “Sarah, what exactly are you trying to do?” “Me?” I laughed. “I’m not trying to do anything. But what about you, Derek? What are you trying to do?” He hung up. That evening, he showed up downstairs at my parents’ building. “Sarah, we need to talk.” I went downstairs and stood in front of him. “Talk about what?” “Did you find something out?” His eyes were evasive. “What do you think?” He licked his lips: “Vanessa… she’s just my business partner. Don’t misunderstand.” “Business partner.” I nodded. “And that apartment on the west side is also part of your business venture?” His expression changed. “Also, your company made over eighty thousand in profit last year. Your share is sixty thousand. Where’s that money?” He took a step back: “How… how do you know this?” “Derek,” I looked at him, “did you think I was an idiot?” He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak. “The fake divorce agreement — house goes to you, car goes to you, thirty thousand in savings split in half.” I enunciated each word. “You planned to leave me with nothing, then openly be with Vanessa Clarke, didn’t you?” His expression finally cracked. “Sarah, let me explain…” “I don’t want to hear it.” I turned toward the building. “Wait!” He rushed after me. “The divorce agreement is already signed. It’s too late to back out!” I stopped. Turned to look at him. “Who said I’m backing out?” He froze. “Derek, I signed that divorce agreement. I don’t regret it.” I said. “I just wanted to tell you — I have more on you than you think.” “What… what do you mean?” “Nothing much.” I smiled slightly. “Just think carefully about what you’ve done to me these past five years. Then wait for my lawyer’s letter.” I went into the building without looking back. Behind me came his voice: “Sarah! Sarah, stop right there!” I ignored him. The moment I closed the building door, I heard him violently kicking it from outside. “Sarah! Don’t push me!” I frantically pressed the elevator button.

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On April Fools’ Day, I received a promotion email. I thought my five years of hard work had finally paid off—I was finally being promoted to Sales Director. Full of joy, I moved my belongings to the door of my new private office. But when I pushed open the door, there wasn’t even an office chair inside—just a pile of stinking garbage. That’s when I heard loud mocking laughter from my colleagues behind me. “Sasha, you actually fell for it? How pathetically shameless!” My boss also chimed in, “It’s just an April Fools’ prank. You can take a joke, right?” I became the laughingstock of the entire company, a complete fool. But they forgot—this afternoon, I was scheduled to sign a one-billion-dollar contract that would determine the company’s fate. Since my boss loved April Fools’ jokes so much, I’d give him a special April Fools’ gift of my own. “What’s wrong, Sasha? It’s just an April Fools’ prank. You can take a joke, can’t you?” My boss, Mr. Richards, looked down at me with unconcealed smugness. Faced with his mockery, the entire office area erupted in piercing laughter. “Exactly, Ms. Turner! Did you really think you could become Sales Director?” Lily from reception covered her mouth, laughing so hard she was shaking. “She should look at her own credentials—a community college graduate thinking she can become a phoenix? As if.” I didn’t lose my temper. I just stiffly crouched down and began picking up the personal belongings I’d just joyfully packed into the large cardboard box, one by one. I was like a clown being paraded through the streets. Under everyone’s unrestrained pointing and whispering, I walked step by step back to my cramped old desk in the main hall. “She usually acts so high and mighty just because she’s the top salesperson, bossing us around. Now she’s been put back in her place.” Behind me, I could hear my colleagues’ shameless gossip. Mr. Richards followed me over, tapping my desk with the bottom of his coffee mug. “Sasha, don’t take it to heart. Young people need to face some setbacks—it’s good for you. I’m just trying to build your stress tolerance.” He adopted the tone of a caring elder. “You’ve been with this company for five years. Even if you haven’t achieved great things, you’ve worked hard. But the director position isn’t something you can get just by working yourself to the bone. You need big-picture thinking, you need to understand office politics. Understand?” I looked at him coldly. “Mr. Richards, last week you personally told me that if I secured Mr. Wilson’s one-billion-dollar contract, the director position would be mine.” Mr. Richards scoffed. “That was motivational rhetoric. You couldn’t even tell? Besides, we could land Mr. Wilson’s deal even without you, just based on our company’s reputation. Don’t think too highly of yourself.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. Five years of my youth, countless days and nights of struggle. In his eyes, it was all just a cheap game he could trample on at will. I felt utterly humiliated and degraded. But I forced myself to swallow this bitter pill. Because this afternoon, I still had to represent the company to sign that one-billion-dollar contract. It was the most important credential in my professional career. I couldn’t flip the table at this critical moment. “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Richards.” I forced out a smile completely devoid of warmth. Mr. Richards nodded with satisfaction. “That’s more like it. Girls shouldn’t always be fighting for power.” He turned to the other employees who were watching the spectacle. “What are you all standing around for? Don’t you have work to do? Even though it’s April Fools’ Day, performance reviews are no joke!” Everyone immediately scattered, but the looks they gave me were still full of undisguised contempt. Derek Shaw from the next desk leaned over. “Well, well, Ms. Turner, giving up so easily?” Derek usually got chewed out by me for his bottom-of-the-barrel sales numbers. Now seeing my misfortune, he was happier than on Christmas. “I’ve always said women in sales are just trading on their youth. You’re getting older now, you’ve lost your looks—how can you compete with those young girls?” He picked his teeth while giving me an extremely sleazy up-and-down look. “You should just find yourself an honest man to marry and be a housewife.” I whipped my head around, staring at him with icy eyes. “Derek Shaw, your sales this month are zero, and you still have time to worry about my marriage prospects?” His face stiffened, then flushed with embarrassed anger. “Who are you to act so superior! You’re not even a manager anymore—what right do you have to boss me around?” I didn’t bother with him. I needed to go over the final contract details one more time. No matter what, this contract was my personal achievement, and I wouldn’t allow any mistakes. Just then, someone gently tapped my shoulder. I turned around.

“Ms. Turner, are you okay?” Marcus, a subordinate who’d only been with us for two months, stood behind me. I shook my head. “I’m fine. Go back to your work.” I stood up, heading toward the break room to get some water. The corridor was narrow. Derek saw me coming and deliberately stretched his leg into the aisle. I tripped over it and fell hard to the floor. My knee hit the hard surface, sending a sharp, drilling pain through me instantly. “Oh my! Why is our great Director Turner bowing so low?” Not only did Derek not apologize, he mocked me loudly with heavy sarcasm. The surrounding colleagues burst into laughter again. “Sasha, are you blind or something?” I endured the searing pain in my hand and knee, struggling to get up from the floor awkwardly. I looked coldly at Derek. “Get your dog leg out of the way.” Derek slammed his hand on the desk and stood up. “You walk without watching where you’re going and blame others? You think you’re still that high-and-mighty top salesperson? You’re nothing but a joke now!” Marcus walked over, his eyes red. “Ms. Turner, ignore them.” He helped me to my chair, his voice choked with tears. “Ms. Turner, what am I going to do?” I frowned, looking at the paper in his hand. It was a demotion notice. It stated that due to Marcus’s failure to meet performance standards during his probation period, he would be demoted to reception assistant with his salary cut in half. “What’s this about?” I asked. Marcus wiped away tears. “Mr. Richards said I’m too stupid and can’t do anything right. Ms. Turner, I really need this job. I have a sick grandmother back home to support.” Seeing him like this, the anger in my heart subsided slightly. In this cold company, perhaps only this fresh graduate still retained some human warmth. Remembering how I’d trained him hands-on these past two months, I softened. I patted his shoulder consolingly. “Sales is tough for everyone. You just started—not having resources is normal.” I thought for a moment and pulled out a client list from my desk. “Tell you what—I have some repeat orders from old clients here. The profit margins aren’t high, but they’re enough to get you through probation. Take these and follow up on them. They’ll count as your sales numbers, give you a cushion.” Marcus’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Really? Ms. Turner, you’re really willing to share clients with me?” I nodded. “Everyone’s struggling. We should help each other out.” Marcus clutched the list tightly, breaking into a smile through his tears. “Thank you, Ms. Turner! You’re like a second parent to me!” Watching his joyful retreating figure, I sighed helplessly. The wounds on my hand were still bleeding. I went to the restroom to clean them up. Otherwise, meeting Mr. Wilson this afternoon looking like this would be far too unprofessional. I limped toward the restroom. I firmly believed that as long as I held that one-billion-dollar contract in my hands, I’d have the capital to turn things around. But I never imagined that what I thought was kindness was just another carefully crafted joke. A party popper went off in the office area. Immediately followed by everyone’s cheering and celebration. “Come on, everyone! Let’s congratulate Mr. Richards on his promotion to Sales Director!”

I froze in place. What should have been a quiet workspace now looked like a wild party. I stood at the office entrance. I saw Marcus, who’d just been crying to me moments ago, now sitting brazenly on my desk. He held a glass of freshly opened champagne, laughing his head off. “Did you all see how stupid Sasha looked just now? She actually believed I was getting demoted and condescendingly offered me some trashy clients! Those moldy resources of hers—I wouldn’t even use them as coasters!” Lily from reception approached with a wine glass, looking obsequious. “Exactly, Marcus! She doesn’t know her place. Just because she landed a few big clients, her tail’s pointing to the sky. She doesn’t even know whose name is on this company.” Derek circled around Marcus like a lapdog. “Marcus is Mr. Richards’s own nephew, an elite returnee from a prestigious university! The Sales Director position was always meant for Marcus. That nobody Sasha isn’t even worthy of carrying Mr. Richards’s shoes!” I stood in the corridor’s shadows, feeling all the blood in my body freeze instantly. His own nephew? I stared at Marcus sitting on my desk. So all of this was fake. The promotion email was fake. The demotion notice was fake. Only I was the fool, manipulated and mocked by the entire company in a conspiracy. Mr. Richards emerged from the private office, holding a wine glass. He looked at Marcus with a smile. “Marcus, how was my April Fools’ production? Pretty good, right? Did it help you vent?” Marcus jumped off the desk and threw his arm around Mr. Richards’s shoulder. “It was awesome, Uncle! You don’t know—these past two months she’s been making me memorize product materials every day and forcing me to run sales calls in the blazing sun. I’ve never been treated like this in my entire life—not even by my own mother! Seeing her today like a stray dog moving her stuff—I can’t tell you how satisfying that was!” Mr. Richards laughed heartily. “She’s just meant for grunt work. This afternoon, after she signs Mr. Wilson’s one-billion-dollar contract, I’ll just find some excuse to fire her. Then that massive achievement will be yours! I’m good to you, aren’t I?” I stood there watching their ugly faces, suddenly feeling my stomach churn. Five years. For this company, I’d given up all my vacation days. I’d pulled a nearly bankrupt workshop up by its bootstraps into a well-known industry player. I thought if I just worked hard enough, I’d earn the respect and rewards I deserved. But reality had slapped me hard across the face. I pushed open the door and walked in expressionlessly. The cheering stopped abruptly. Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of monster. The smile on Marcus’s face froze for a moment, then returned to that same arrogant expression. “Oh, Ms. Turner’s back? That demotion notice earlier was a misunderstanding. My uncle said for April Fools’ fun, all decisions and responses today had to be reversed!” He boasted, “So I actually got promoted!” I laughed coldly inside. Reversed. So that’s how I got that ridiculous promotion notice. Just then, Mr. Richards walked over with a cold expression. He slammed a thick stack of documents against my chest. “Sasha, you still have the nerve to chat here? Get your ass to the conference room right now!”

Mr. Richards pointed at my nose and cursed. “Mr. Wilson’s already here with his legal team—go sign that contract immediately!” I looked down at the contract that had fallen to the floor. Just flipping to the first page, my brow furrowed tightly. This contract was full of holes. Not only were the profit margins completely wrong, even the breach of contract clauses were reversed. “Mr. Richards, this contract is unusable.” “Shut up!” Mr. Richards rudely cut me off. “This is the proposal Marcus personally revised. He’s an elite returnee who understands advanced management concepts far better than you!” Marcus chimed in smugly from the side. “Exactly. Your outdated negotiation tactics are ancient history.” I looked at this ridiculous uncle-nephew pair, hardly believing my ears. Signing this hole-riddled contract would destroy my industry reputation and lose all client trust. Mr. Richards and Marcus could easily deflect all blame, but I’d be finished in the industry. Mr. Richards glared at me viciously. “Sasha, stop being alarmist! I’m ordering you to go to the conference room and handle this right now, or you’ll bear all the losses and get out immediately!” He shoved me, pushing me straight through the conference room door. Inside the conference room, the atmosphere was oppressively tense. Mr. Wilson sat across the long table with his elite legal team, their expressions dark. I looked at the wound on my knee from Derek’s trip, then at the disgusting faces of this uncle-nephew duo. Then at Mr. Wilson’s extremely displeased expression across from me. Five years of grievances, humiliation, and resentment reached their peak in this moment. Mr. Wilson pushed the contract toward me. I took a deep breath and picked up that contract. Then I announced loudly to Mr. Wilson: “On behalf of the company, I reject this partnership!” As soon as the words left my mouth, I gripped the contract with both hands. With a loud rip— In front of everyone, I tore that billion-dollar contract to shreds. Paper fragments floated down like snowflakes in the conference room. The smile on Mr. Richards’s face instantly froze. “Sasha, have you lost your mind!”

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At the hospital’s annual Christmas gala, the intern, Hailey, collapsed at my feet in tears, accusing me of bullying her. Beside me, Liam, the hospital administrator and my fiancé, didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my hair, slamming my forehead against the edge of the table. “Brianna, you’re sick,” he snarled. “You don’t deserve to be a doctor.” The pain was blinding. Tears welled up in my eyes. “You believe her over me? She’s lying, Liam!” Instead of listening, Liam pulled a small paring knife from the fruit platter and drove it through the palm of my right hand, pinning it to the table. “Hailey would never be as malicious as you. I’m ensuring you never pick up a scalpel again. Let’s see you abuse your status as a ‘hotshot surgeon’ when you can’t even hold a pen.” I spat blood and saliva right into his face. “You’re dead, Liam. Without me, this hospital will be bankrupt by the end of the fiscal year!” 1 Preston was beyond furious, the veins bulging in his temples. He yanked me up by my arm, dragging me off the floor. Ignoring the stunned stares of the entire hospital staff, he hauled me straight out of the banquet hall and up to the penthouse suite he kept at the hotel. As soon as we burst through the door, he turned and grabbed his metal baseball bat from the umbrella stand near the entryway. He charged at me. “Preston, don’t be insane,” I gasped. Before the words were out, the bat swung. It connected solidly with the back of my right hand. A white-hot flash of agony shot through my limbs, and my vision swam with black spots. I didn’t need an X-ray to know. Every bone in my right hand was shattered. I had spent fifteen years building my career as a cardiothoracic surgeon. I protected these hands more than I protected my own life. Preston knew that better than anyone. I stared at him, my eyes burning with rage and grief. Swallowing the scream tearing at my throat, I fumbled for my phone in my pocket with my left hand to call 911. Every second counted. If I didn’t get into surgery immediately, I would never operate again. Preston saw me, the hand he had just stabbed trembling as I tried to unlock the screen. Before I could dial, he slapped the phone out of my hand, sending it smashing against the wall. “You have the audacity to call an ambulance after what you did to Hailey? Get this straight, Brianna: I made you. I gave you everything. How dare you act like you run the show in my hospital?” This private hospital only had its prestigious reputation because of me. I was the renowned specialist anchoring the cardiac department. Wealthy donors and high-profile patients lined up, offering seven-figure figures for me to lead their surgeries. I had turned down dozens of lucrative offers just to practice at his facility. Because of my renown, the hospital’s VIP wing was fully booked, with beds going for ten thousand dollars a night, driving an annual revenue of over two hundred million. “Brianna, apologize to Hailey. Right now. Or I’m taking these bullying allegations straight to the Medical Board.” “I’ll ensure you lose your license permanently. And don’t think you’re leaving this room to treat that hand until I get what I want.” I looked at the man I had built up with my own two hands, barely able to speak through the shock. “Preston, this hand… it’s my life. You know that.” Preston glanced at my mangled, bloody hand and let out a cold, mocking chuckle. “Of course I know. That’s why, if you want to save it—and save your medical career—you’re going to grovel and apologize.” A few colleagues who had followed us up to watch the drama began chiming in from the doorway. “I always thought Dr. Vance was a bit cold, but I never pegged her for a bully. What a waste of talent.” “Talent doesn’t mean anything. Without the hospital’s resources and platform, her skills aren’t worth dime. She deserves a lesson. Serves her right.” “Honestly, Hailey seems like a sweetheart. She’s been a great intern all year, never makes a mistake. Preston already planned to promote her to Administrative Assistant. It’ll be nice for her not to have to work night shifts anymore.” “Absolutely. Preston has an eye for real quality.” Their words were like ice picks stabbing at my heart. It made my skin crawl. These were people I had either recruited myself from prestigious public hospitals or hand-trained from residency. A few were retired specialists I had practically begged to come join us. Back in the public sector, they were stuck in bureaucracy, waiting for tenure and getting paid peanuts. I offered them high salaries, massive research grants, and help applying for national grants. I gave them the chance to make clean money based on their skills, not their seniority. I could still vividly remember them bowing in gratitude when they signed their contracts. Now, they were stepping on me to curry favor with the boss. I was brought back to reality when Hailey suddenly pushed through from behind Preston. She kicked me hard right behind the knee, making me buckle and fall. She grabbed my shoulders, her voice shrill. “Dr. Vance, the CEO is giving you a chance. Don’t be ungrateful.” “If you really piss him off and he goes to the Board, you’re done in the medical field!” I violently shook off her grip and slapped her across the face with my good hand. She shrieked, clutching her cheek. Seeing her hurt, Preston immediately pulled Hailey into his arms, murmuring softly to soothe her. “It’s okay, Hailey. I’ve got you.” Then, he turned around and marched toward me. I looked at him, dead inside. “Preston, we’re done. I’m leaving you.” 2 Preston paused, looking stunned for a split second. But I couldn’t waste time on him. My hand was dying. While he was frozen, I grabbed the arm of a hotel waitress who was passing by the open door, stealing the work phone from her tray. “Preston, I doubt you pay this waitress’s phone bill.” Ignoring the blinding stabs of pain in my palm, I dialed a hospital two towns over. While waiting for the connection, the smartwatch on my good left wrist vibrated. It was a duplicate message from my work phone. [Dr. Vance, we are the Investment Department for Vanguard Health, the national premium hospital network. We are incredibly impressed by your patent on minimally invasive surgical techniques. We have decided to invest $400 million in your team to build a new cardiac center. We are arriving at your hospital today for a face-to-face meeting.] I had completely forgotten. Today was the day the investors were giving their final answer. I wanted to message them to reschedule, but my fingers were too swollend and trembling to even swipe the screen. They were going to make a wasted trip. Preston was close friends with the hotel owner; he had already instructed security not to let me leave the penthouse. He had also used his connections to block local ambulance calls to the hotel. But he couldn’t control the surrounding county’s emergency services. Eventually, the faint wail of a siren grew closer. I let out a breath. They were finally here. The lead paramedic came up via the elevator. When he saw my hand, he paled. “What in God’s name happened? It’s a good thing you called when you did. Another thirty minutes and you would have lost the hand entirely.” He reached for gauze to stabilize the bleeding, but Preston stepped forward, blocking him. He aggressively slapped the emergency kit out of the paramedic’s hands, sending supplies scattering. I pushed myself up against the wall, using my shoulder to shove Preston back against the penthouse entryway door. I was seeing red. “Preston, what the hell is wrong with you?!” “You guys are out of your jurisdiction,” Preston snapped at the paramedics. “This is a compliance issue. One phone call to the State Health Department and your hospital is facing a seven-figure fine for ignoring zoning regulations.” The nurse who had accompanied them was flushed with anger. “Sir, this woman’s hand is about to become non-viable! Saving lives comes first. Whatever your personal drama is can wait until she’s treated!” She moved to help me up, but Hailey rushed forward and shoved her back. Preston’s security detail surrounded us, physically blocking the medical personnel. Hailey held her phone up to my face, recording. Her cheek was still red from my slap, but she was grinning like a maniac. “Brianna Vance, all you have to do is look into this camera, admit you bullied me, and publicly apologize. We will release you immediately. We will even arrange a private car to take you to the best orthopedic surgeon in New York.” “Otherwise, get used to being a cripple. You’ll be blacklisted by the Medical Board, facing a misconduct charge, and kicked out of the profession forever.” I turned to look at Preston. My voice was trembling. “Preston…” Preston just smirked, casually rubbing his shoulder where I had shoved him. “Why are you looking at me? A golden path is right in front of you. If you choose not to take it, that’s your problem.” The paramedic was sweating profusely. “Dr. Vance, just give in for now! Save the hand! If you lose the hand, you lose everything!” I thought about my career, the only thing I had ever loved. I remembered my mother gripping my hand on her deathbed, begging me to be a good doctor. A sob broke from my throat. Tears streamed down my face. I looked into Hailey’s camera lens, my jaw tight. “I admit… that I bullied Hailey. I am truly sorry.” After I recited the script she had written, the paramedic grabbed Hailey’s arm. “You said you were arranging a car. Where is it?” “Oh,” Preston interjected, his voice light and unbothered. He didn’t even look at me. “The driver’s mother passed away. He can’t make it today.” But I had already planned a backup. When I made the initial call, I had used the waitress’s phone to text a former student of mine. He was now the Associate Chief of Orthopedics at the county hospital two towns over. He had already arranged for a second ambulance to be waiting at the hotel’s loading dock, bypassing Preston’s people at the front entrance. As soon as Preston retreated into the bedroom, the paramedics hurried me down the fire stairs to the back exit. I was loaded into the waiting ambulance and we sped away. The surgery to salvage my hand took eighteen excruciating hours. When they finally wheeled me out of the OR, the lead surgeon—my former student—stood over me, a somber look on his face. “Dr. Vance, we did everything we could. But the nerve and tendon damage is catastrophic. You’re looking at at least a year of intensive physical therapy. As for ever holding a scalpel again… that is entirely up to your own will and persistence.” Salt tears slid into the corners of my mouth. I forced a weak smile and grabbed his arm, whispering. “I need you to maximize the dosage on my pain pump. I’m discharging myself now. I have things to handle.” “Absolutely not! You just got out of major reconstructive surgery. You can’t just leave!” I ripped the blanket off myself, struggling to climb down from the hospital bed. I dropped to my knees in front of him. “I’m begging you. If I wait, it will be too late.” Two hours later, once the high-strength painkillers kicked in, I wrapped myself in a heavy overcoat and discharged myself, escorted by security personnel Vanguard Health had sent for my protection. 3 I found out later that Julian Vanguard, the head of Vanguard Health, had just returned from an international inspection. His very first order was to find me. When he heard what happened, he immediately sent a security detail to watch the hospital perimeter. If they won’t let me live my life, then I’m bringing their entire world down with me. My first stop was the convention hall hosting the National Cardiology Conference, currently in session. I walked straight onto the floor. I grabbed the master drafts for my presentation on ‘Modified Minimally Invasive Bypass Techniques’ and the hard copies of my unpublished clinical follow-up data. Before the shocked gaze of every cardiologist in attendance, I threw the entire stack into an industrial paper shredder. These were the crucial, central materials required to secure national research grants. I hadn’t made a digital backup; I wanted total control of the hard copies. Now that they were confetti, the presentation couldn’t happen. Preston had spent nearly a year negotiating for tens of millions in research funding for that specific presentation. It was gone. Next, I went to his hospital. I logged into the system and formatted every single one of the custom treatment plans for the complex cases I was heading. I had anticipated this day. The complete versions of all core data were stored on my private, encrypted hard drives. The hospital servers only held truncated versions. Without the raw data, those high-profile projects would ground to an absolute halt. I was in the middle of scrubbing the case analyses I had stored on his personal computer in his office when Preston burst in, Hailey at his heels. When he saw the floor covered in shredded paper and the formatted screen showing the empty server interface, his face went beet red. “Brianna, are you out of your mind?! You shredded the conference materials. What about the millions in grants?! You formatted the server. What happens to the projects?!” He charged at me, grabbing my right hand—the one that had just come out of major surgery. His nails dug through the heavy bandages, driving right into the fresh incision points. A cold sweat instantly broke out over my back from the agony. I gritted my teeth, slamming my weight against him to shove him off me. Watching him fly into a blind rage made me smile. “Grants can be re-negotiated, and servers can be restored… if you have the data. But you ruined my hand, so I ruined the only thing you actually care about: your hospital. Seems like a fair trade to me.” Preston trembled with rage. Then, he threw his head back and laughed. “Ruined me? Brianna, don’t be naive. Every single patent you applied for… I had them legally transferred to the hospital’s name six months ago. Those aren’t yours anymore!” “Do you know how much that ‘confetti’ is worth? I’ve tallied it up. Eighty-five million dollars in guaranteed revenue. Do you have that kind of cash to pay for the breach of contract?” His words hit me like a physical blow. The blood rushed out of my face. Everything he said after that was just static noise. With trembling left fingers, I pulled out my phone to check the patent registry. When I saw the owner was indeed listed as the hospital, my blood turned to ice. He had planned this from the start. Six months ago, he was already laying the groundwork to kick me out and take full ownership of my life’s work. Hailey was just a convenient pawn that fell into his lap. The bullying allegations were just a tool to get rid of me without paying out my share of the equity. Hailey smirked from the side, looking absolutely delighted with herself. “You hear that, Brianna? Eighty-five million. When are you paying up?” “Once you settle that debt, Preston and I are getting married. I’ll be the Administrator’s wife. I’ll be running this place.” I hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours, and I had lost massive amounts of blood. The emotional shock combined with the trauma was too much. The room swam, and I collapsed onto the floor. Preston stood over me, his voice icy cold. “Scared now? Look, we were together for eight years. I’ll give you a chance.” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an antique jade pendant carved with a dragon. It was my mother’s final legacy to me before she died—half of a dragon-and-phoenix set. When we got engaged, I had given it to him as a token of my love and commitment. I always wore the matching phoenix pendant. “Hand over the phoenix pendant, and I’ll send it to Hailey as her promotion gift.” “Announce publicly that you only gave me the dragon pendant because you were desperate to climb the social ladder through me, and I’ll wipe that eighty-five million dollar debt off the books.” I used every last ounce of my strength to push myself off the floor, lunging at him with a snarl. “Preston, in your dreams! That is my mother’s legacy! You think you have the right to give it away?!” Before I could grab his hand, he casually opened his fingers. The jade dragon fell onto the polished marble floor, shattering into dozens of tiny pieces. I stared at the broken jade. The only tangible connection I had left to my mother was gone. Because I had trusted him. I had given my most precious possession to him, and he had destroyed it. 4 Hailey kicked me hard in the stomach. My center of gravity was already off, and I fell backward, the back of my head slamming against the sharp edge of the coffee table. Warm blood immediately began soaking into my collar from the cut. I was still reeling when Preston pressed his heel down onto my bandaged right hand, grinding his weight into it. “Brianna, I’m asking you one last time. Do I get the phoenix pendant or not?” “No! You can kill me before you get it!” I spit blood into his face, glaring at him through the pain. “Preston, don’t think you’ve won. Without me, this hospital will be bankrupt in six months.” “All the dirty deals you’ve made? They’re going to come to light. Karma is going to haunt you.” “Shut the hell up!” Preston snapped, slapping me across the face. He stomped his heel down onto the incision point on my hand, putting all his weight behind it. The gauze was instantly soaked in blood. The agony was so intense I nearly passed out. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. I ignored the pain, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces of jade. I had barely moved before Preston grabbed my collar, hauling me up. He grinned, the expression twisted and cruel. He reached for the red cord around my neck, intent on ripping the phoenix pendant away. I fought back wildly, thrashing in his grip, but I was too weak to stop him from breaking the cord and taking the stone. He laughed as he watched me sob, broken and defeated. “You’re pathetic. This is going to the police as evidence. I’m posting your ‘apology’ video to every medical professional forum and local news outlet.” “The whole world is going to know you’re a bully. I’m ensuring you are utterly destroyed. You’ll never operate again.” “Preston, you animal!” I tried to lunge at him one last time, with the last shred of my dignity. But as soon as I stood up, my legs gave out. I collapsed to the floor, unable to move. Preston stood over me, looking smug and triumphant. “Brianna, you were naive to think you could beat me. Without you, this hospital is only going to grow faster. Get used to watching me succeed from the gutters where you belong.” He kicked me one last time, turning to leave. Just then, the receptionist burst through the door, looking frantic. Preston snapped, “What the hell? Do you know how to knock?” The receptionist looked down at me on the floor, my hand a bloody mess. She turned pale. “Mr. Sterling, it’s a disaster! The investors from Vanguard Health? The team you’ve been courting for a year? They’re in the main conference room right now, and they… they…” “They what? Out with it!” “They explicitly demanded to see Dr. Vance. They said that if Dr. Vance is willing to join Vanguard Health, they will take the $400 million they were going to invest here and double it to $800 million for her new team instead.”

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Three months after giving birth, I suffered a severe bone fracture. My husband, heartbroken to see me in pain, spent a fortune to hire the most highly-rated, impossible-to-book maternity nurse in the city. He even paid a five-thousand-dollar deposit upfront. My mother was raving about the nurse’s resume and was just about to call her to confirm she was starting tomorrow. I reached out and pressed the end-call button on her phone. “Don’t bother,” I said. “Aunt Sarah is going to be here any minute to steal her.” For as long as I can remember, my mother has played the role of the neighborhood “Mother Teresa.” Whenever Aunt Sarah’s family cried poverty or played the victim, my family’s best resources were immediately handed over to them. My mom prided herself on being “helpful and generous,” completely oblivious to the fact that Aunt Sarah secretly laughed at her behind her back, calling her a “gullible idiot.” But my mom always thought I was just being cynical. She insisted Aunt Sarah wasn’t like that and picked up her phone to redial. Right at that moment, the front door swung open. Aunt Sarah walked in, grabbed my mother’s hand, and immediately started wiping away fake tears. She sobbed about how her daughter-in-law wasn’t producing enough breastmilk and begged her sister-in-law to let them have the maternity nurse. My mom stood there, phone in hand, her face a mask of utter embarrassment. I crossed my arms and let out a cold laugh. “Well, Mom? Are you going to say yes this time, or no?” 1 Aunt Sarah kept wiping her non-existent tears while shooting sideways glances at my mother’s face. “Liz, you know my new grandson was born premature. He’s so frail, and my daughter-in-law’s milk hasn’t come in. If we don’t have a professional looking after him, I’m terrified the baby might…” She trailed off, swallowing the word “die,” expertly tossing the panic straight into my mother’s lap. My mother, predictably, took the bait. She glanced at my leg, suspended high in a heavy cast, and then at my newborn daughter sleeping soundly in the bassinet next to me. My mom gritted her teeth, turned to me, and said: “Harper, you heard her. Your aunt is talking about a life-or-death situation.” “Your leg is already broken anyway. You just need to rest. If that baby doesn’t make it, it would be a sin.” I laughed, a sharp, angry sound. I pointed to my casted leg, then to the bassinet. “Mom, I am your biological daughter. I also just gave birth. My leg is broken, and I literally cannot take care of myself.” “Mark paid a five-thousand-dollar deposit specifically for this nurse because she has physical rehabilitation certification to help me heal while taking care of the baby.” “And you want me to just give her away? What am I supposed to do? What is your granddaughter supposed to do?” My mother frowned, looking at me as if I were being completely unreasonable. “Why are you being so selfish?” “You guys have money. Worst case, you just hire someone else. Your aunt’s family is struggling; they can’t afford this.” “Saving a life is the greatest good deed you can do. Don’t you understand that?” Seeing my mother cave, Aunt Sarah immediately seized the opportunity. “Exactly, Harper. Auntie knows you’re successful, not dirt poor like us.” “As for the nurse’s salary… we can chip in a few hundred bucks as a token of appreciation, and you can cover the rest…” Wow. Not only did she want to steal the nurse, but she also expected me to subsidize her salary. She expected me to pay out of my own pocket for someone to go serve her grandson? And my mother was actually standing there nodding. “A few hundred is a nice gesture. Harper doesn’t care about the money.” The anger in my chest ignited into a blazing inferno. This wasn’t a mother. This was an unpaid employee of Aunt Sarah’s family. I grabbed the ceramic mug off my nightstand and hurled it violently at the floor. CRASH! Hot tea splattered everywhere, and jagged shards of ceramic exploded right at Aunt Sarah’s feet. Aunt Sarah shrieked, jumping backward in terror. “Oh my god! Are you trying to kill someone?!” My mom jumped too, her face instantly darkening. “Harper Evans! What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have no manners?!” “You want to talk about manners? Fine.” “This nurse is under an exclusive contract. The cancellation fee is ten thousand dollars.” “Whoever wants to take her can slap ten thousand dollars down on this table right now.” “Also, this nurse was arranged through a corporate wellness program at Mark’s company. Transferring her privately is considered fraud. Let’s call the cops right now and see what the judge has to say.” The moment Aunt Sarah heard “ten thousand dollars” and “call the cops,” all the color drained from her face. People like her are terrified of spending money, and even more terrified of going to jail. Her eyes darted around shiftily before she resorted to her usual tactic of throwing a tantrum. “Oh, listen to this, Liz! Look at your Harper. The richer she gets, the cheaper she gets. Who is she trying to scare…” “If you won’t lend her to us, just say so! Don’t act like a psycho! Get a little money and suddenly you’re too good for your poor relatives!” Aunt Sarah stomped toward the door, cursing loudly. Right before she left, she turned and spat venomously on the floor. I thought my mom might check on me, ask if I was okay, or if the anger had hurt my injury. Instead, she stood there with a face like thunder, pointing her finger at my nose, and started lecturing me. “You chased your aunt away over something so petty! How am I supposed to face the rest of the family now?” “Everyone praises me for being a saint, and here you are, completely humiliating me!” 2 My mother lectured me for a solid thirty minutes. She only stopped when Mark walked in. He looked exhausted from his commute, but he was carrying a box with my favorite strawberry shortcake from the bakery downtown. As soon as he stepped inside, he sensed the toxic atmosphere. The shattered ceramic was still on the floor, my mom was sitting on the sofa wiping away fake tears, and I was lying in bed, my face expressionless. Mark’s face changed instantly. He didn’t even take his shoes off properly before rushing to my bedside. “Honey, what’s wrong? Is your leg hurting?” He anxiously checked my cast, then checked on our sleeping daughter. Only when he confirmed we were both physically unharmed did he let out a breath. Seeing Mark, my mom immediately found a new audience for her grievances. “Mark, you need to talk some sense into her.” “Harper is getting more and more selfish. What’s wrong with helping out family when they’re in a tough spot?” “Her aunt was practically begging on her knees, and Harper actually threatened to call the cops on her!” Mark listened to the whole story. The gentle warmth completely vanished from his face. He stood up, positioning himself defensively in front of my bed, his tone hard and cold: “Liz, that nurse was hired to take care of Harper and the baby.” “Harper has a broken bone and desperately needs professional care right now. If we give the nurse away and Harper suffers long-term complications, who’s going to take responsibility?” “You are Harper’s mother. Is saving face with an outsider really more important to you than your own daughter’s leg?” My mom choked on her words. She clearly hadn’t expected her usually polite and mild-mannered son-in-law to shut her down so directly. She stood frozen for a few seconds before her embarrassment morphed into anger. She immediately started playing the victim. “Fine! You two are ganging up to bully an old woman!” “Do you think it’s been easy for me to help our relatives all these years? Everyone calls me a saint. Is that a crime?” “Who do you think I do it for? I do it to build good karma for Harper!” “Karma?” I finally lost it. I told Mark to go to the study and grab the old ledger from my desk drawer. It was the “Book of Blood and Tears” I had kept since childhood. I had Mark open it and read the entries out loud to my mother, one by one. “Sophomore year of college. My eight-thousand-dollar academic scholarship. You stole it to buy my cousin a new gaming console, telling me it was a ‘loan.’ It was never repaid.” “My first year working. My company gave me a premium imported seafood gift basket. Before I even opened the box, you took it to Aunt Sarah’s house. I didn’t even get to see a shrimp shell.” “When we got married, I had that small starter condo. You forced me to let Aunt Sarah’s family use it rent-free as my cousin’s ‘temporary’ bridal suite. They lived there for three years. Never paid a dime in rent, and the utility bills were automatically deducted from my account!” Mark’s face grew darker with every word he read. “Mom, your ‘good reputation’ is entirely built on bleeding me dry.” “I am your daughter, not your personal ATM!” Having her ugly history exposed, my mother couldn’t maintain her saintly facade anymore. She sprang up, snatched the ledger from Mark’s hands, and slammed it onto the floor. “I raised you! What’s wrong with spending some of your money? You’re exactly like your deadbeat father—ungrateful!” With that, she stormed into the guest room, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. Mark held me gently, rubbing my back. “Don’t let her get to you. It’s bad for your recovery. You have me now. I won’t let them leech off you anymore.” His embrace was warm, but it couldn’t chase away the bone-deep chill inside me. Late that night. My phone vibrated. It was a voice memo from Aunt Sarah. Her tone held absolutely no trace of the afternoon’s hostility. Instead, it was dripping with her usual, entitled greed. “Harper, honey, never mind about the nurse. But I heard you have some fancy imported physical therapy machine? Your cousin’s wife is feeling weak postpartum. Can we borrow it?” “Your leg is already messed up anyway, so missing a couple of days won’t kill you.” These people were literal leeches. Once they latched on, they never let go. 3 Bright and early the next morning, right after Mark left for work, Aunt Sarah and my cousin, Jake, showed up at our door. They played it smart this time. They didn’t come empty-handed; they brought a basket of bruised, overripe apples. “Oh, Harper, Auntie was just too stressed yesterday. I was out of line. Don’t take it to heart.” Aunt Sarah slammed the apples onto the table, her eyes immediately darting around the room, hunting for her prize. Finally, her gaze locked onto the physical therapy machine actively humming near my leg. Mark had pulled strings to get that machine flown in from Germany. It cost eight thousand dollars and was specifically designed to prevent muscle atrophy after orthopedic surgery. My surgeon had strictly ordered me to use it for four hours every single day. “That’s the therapy machine, right? Looks fancy.” Aunt Sarah marched over, reaching out to yank the plug from the wall. “Perfect. My husband’s back is acting up, and my daughter-in-law is complaining of aches. I’ll take it back so the whole family can get some use out of it.” I slammed my hand down hard on the machine. “No.” “This is medical equipment, not a toy. If you use it wrong, you can get hurt. Plus, I’m actively doing my rehab. I can’t stop.” Aunt Sarah’s face instantly soured. “Harper, why are you so selfish? Letting us borrow it for a few days isn’t going to break it!” My cousin Jake, who had been standing silently, suddenly lunged forward and violently shoved my hand away. “Mom, why are you wasting breath on her! Aunt Liz already said we could take it!” He grabbed the sides of the heavy machine and started lifting. Panic seized me. Forgetting the heavy cast on my leg, I lunged forward, trying to stop him. “That is mine! I’m not lending it to you! You’re literally robbing me!” Right at that moment, my mom walked out of the kitchen. She was still holding a spatula. Without even glancing at me, she barked: “Harper! Let go!” “It’s just a stupid machine! Let your cousin use it for a few days! What’s the big deal?!” “His wife has postpartum complications! You missing a couple of days won’t kill you!” I stared at my mother in utter disbelief. “Mom, this is my lifeline for recovery! The doctor said if I stop using it for even one day, my muscles could atrophy!” My mom rolled her eyes impatiently and marched over. “Stop listening to doctors trying to scare you! You’re just being dramatic!” Determined to help Jake steal the machine, she actually reached out and shoved me hard. “Let go of it right now! Why do you have to be such a brat?!” I was sitting in a wheelchair. Her violent shove hit me right in the shoulder. The wheelchair tipped backward. I crashed heavily onto the hard tile floor. The newly set bone in my leg slammed brutally against the solid marble. CRACK! Blinding, agonizing pain ripped through my entire body like a surge of electricity. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, cold sweat instantly soaking through my clothes. Aunt Sarah and Jake jumped back in shock, nearly dropping the heavy machine. But they didn’t put it down. Instead, they seized the opportunity, hoisted the machine, and bolted for the door. Jake yelled over his shoulder, “She fell on her own! We didn’t touch her!” Aunt Sarah sprinted faster than a rabbit. “Exactly! You saw it, Liz! We didn’t lay a finger on her!” Clutching my lifeline of a medical device, they sprinted out the front door. And my own mother stood frozen in place. She looked down at me writhing on the floor. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by resentment. “Stop screaming! You’re fine!” “If you hadn’t fought your own family for it, you wouldn’t have fallen! It’s your own fault!” 4 The sheer agony made my vision swim with black spots. I felt a warm, thick liquid seeping out from under my cast, rapidly soaking into the fabric of my pajama pants, turning them a dark, horrifying red. The bone had displaced again. It had likely punctured an artery. My daughter, startled awake by my screaming, began wailing from her bassinet. I forced my heavy head up and looked at my mother. “Mom… help me…” “There’s so much blood… take me to the hospital…” My mom saw the expanding pool of blood on the floor. The color drained from her face. She instinctively took a step toward me, reaching out her hands to help. Just then, Aunt Sarah’s frantic voice echoed from the hallway: “Liz! Get down here and help! This machine is too heavy, we can’t get it in the trunk!” My mom’s footsteps halted. She looked down at me, drenched in cold sweat, hovering on the edge of unconsciousness. Then, she looked toward the open door. Aunt Sarah yelled again, “Liz! Hurry up! Don’t let that brat Harper change her mind and chase us down!” My mom hesitated for exactly one second. She turned her back to me, pointing a finger in my direction, and scolded: “Stop faking it! A little blood isn’t going to kill you!” “I’m going to help your aunt load the car. I’ll deal with you when I get back!” With that, she turned and walked out. I watched in absolute despair as she pulled the heavy front door shut behind her. This was my biological mother. In a life-or-death moment, she chose to go help robbers load stolen goods into a getaway car rather than call an ambulance for her bleeding daughter. The excruciating pain was dragging me into darkness. But I couldn’t die. My baby was crying. I bit down on my lip until I tasted copper, using my elbows to drag my heavy, broken body across the floor, inching my way toward the coffee table. A long, thick trail of blood smeared across the pristine marble behind me. It was a horrifying sight. Finally, my shaking fingers brushed against my phone. It took three tries for the fingerprint scanner to read through the blood on my thumb. I dialed Mark’s number. “Hey, honey?” The moment the call connected, I used the very last ounce of breath in my lungs to force out a single word: “Help…” The phone slipped from my grasp. Absolute darkness swallowed me whole. I don’t know how much time passed. I heard the violent, splintering sound of the front door being kicked in. “HARPER!!!” It was Mark’s voice, tearing with raw, primal panic. Followed by the sound of frantic footsteps and the horrified gasps of the building’s security guards. And right then, another voice drifted in from the hallway, humming a cheerful little tune. It was my mom. She had finished loading the stolen goods and was leisurely strolling back upstairs. “What is all this noise? Are you trying to tear my door down?!” “She just took a little tumble! Do you really need to make such a massive scene…” Her voice died in her throat the moment she saw the room full of people and the massive pool of blood I was lying in. Mark was kneeling on the floor, holding my blood-soaked body. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing with a feral, murderous rage. I wasn’t “faking it.” I was actually, truly, dying.

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Three months postpartum, I fractured my leg. My husband, Liam, was so worried about me that he spent a fortune booking the most sought-after postpartum doula in the city. He even put down a $7,000 deposit. My mom was looking at the doula’s impressive resume, singing her praises, and was just about to call and tell her to start tomorrow. I reached out and pressed the end-call button on her phone. “Don’t bother,” I said. “Aunt Susan is about to come over and hijack her.” Ever since I could remember, my mother had been a “bleeding heart.” Whenever Aunt Susan’s family cried poor or played the victim, my mom would make sure they got the best of whatever our family had to offer. My mom always touted herself as a “saint who loved helping others,” completely oblivious to the fact that Aunt Susan laughed behind her back, calling her a gullible sucker. But my mom thought I was just being cynical. She insisted Aunt Susan wasn’t like that, raised her phone, and prepared to dial again. Right at that moment, Aunt Susan burst through the front door. She grabbed my mom’s hands and immediately started squeezing out fake tears, whining about how her daughter-in-law wasn’t producing breastmilk and begging my mom to let them have the doula. My mom stood there, phone in hand, looking incredibly awkward. I crossed my arms and sneered. “Well, Mom. Are you going to say yes or no this time?” Chapter 1 Aunt Susan wiped away her non-existent tears while using her peripheral vision to gauge my mother’s reaction. “Brenda, you know my new grandson was born premature. He’s got a weak constitution, and my daughter-in-law’s milk hasn’t come in. If we don’t have a professional looking after him, the poor boy might…” She trailed off, swallowing the word “die,” expertly tossing the panic squarely onto my mother’s shoulders. My mom fell for it hook, line, and sinker. She glanced at my leg, hoisted up in a heavy plaster cast, and then at my newborn daughter, sleeping soundly in the bassinet nearby. My mom gritted her teeth and turned to me. “Chloe, you heard her. Your aunt’s situation is a matter of life and death.” “Your leg is already broken anyway, you just need to rest. But if that baby doesn’t make it, it would be an absolute tragedy.” I laughed out of pure disbelief. I pointed at my cast, then at the bassinet. “Mom, I am your biological daughter. I also just gave birth, I have a broken leg, and I literally cannot care for myself right now.” “Liam put down a seven-thousand-dollar deposit for this doula specifically to take care of me and the baby because she has specialized rehabilitation credentials.” “And you want me to just give her away? Then what am I supposed to do? What is your granddaughter supposed to do?” My mom furrowed her brow, looking at me like I was being entirely unreasonable. “How can you be so selfish?” “You guys have money, just hire another one. Your aunt’s family is struggling; they can’t afford this.” “Doing a good deed saves lives, don’t you understand that?” Seeing my mom cave, Aunt Susan immediately seized the opportunity. “Exactly, Chloe! Auntie knows you’re successful, unlike us, who are scraping the bottom of the barrel.” “As for the doula’s salary… we can chip in a hundred bucks as a token of appreciation, and you guys can cover the rest…” Unbelievable. Not only did she want to steal my nurse, but she also wanted me to subsidize her salary. She expected me to pay out of my own pocket for someone to serve her grandson? And my mom was actually nodding along. “A hundred bucks is still a nice gesture. Chloe doesn’t care about the money anyway.” The anger in my chest exploded into a raging inferno. Was this really my biological mother? She acted more like an unpaid employee of Aunt Susan’s household. I grabbed the ceramic teacup next to me and hurled it at the floor. Smash! The sharp crack echoed through the room. Hot tea splattered everywhere, and porcelain shards skittered right to Aunt Susan’s feet. Aunt Susan shrieked and jumped back. “Oh my god! Are you trying to kill someone?!” My mom flinched, her face instantly darkening. “Chloe! What on earth are you doing?! Do you have any manners at all?!” “You want to talk about manners? Fine.” “This doula signed an exclusive contract with us. The breach of contract fee is fifteen thousand dollars.” “Whoever wants to take her away needs to slap fifteen grand on this table right now.” “Also, this doula was hired using a specialized corporate benefit through Liam’s company. Transferring her privately constitutes corporate fraud. Let’s call the cops right now and see what the judge has to say.” Hearing “fifteen thousand” and “cops,” Aunt Susan’s face instantly went pale. People like her were terrified of spending money, and even more terrified of going to jail. Her eyes darted around shiftily before she started throwing a tantrum. “Oh, Brenda, look at your daughter! The richer she gets, the cheaper she acts! Who is she trying to scare…” “If you won’t lend her to us, fine! You don’t have to act like a psycho! So typical—you get a little money and suddenly you don’t recognize your poor relatives!” Aunt Susan cursed all the way out the door, spitting aggressively on our welcome mat before leaving. I thought my mom might check if I had aggravated my injury during the outburst. Instead, she stood there with a black expression, pointing a finger at my nose and scolding me. “You chased your aunt away over something so trivial! How am I supposed to face our relatives now?” “Everyone always praises me for having a saint’s heart, but you! You completely humiliated me!” My mom berated me for a solid half hour. Until Liam walked through the door. He was holding a box of my favorite strawberry shortcake, looking exhausted from his commute. The moment he stepped inside, he sensed the toxic atmosphere. The broken porcelain was still on the floor, my mom was sitting on the sofa wiping away dramatic tears, and I was lying in bed with a freezing expression. Liam’s face changed. Before he even took off his shoes, he rushed to my bedside. “Honey, what’s wrong? Is your leg hurting?” He anxiously checked my cast, then checked our sleeping daughter, only breathing a sigh of relief when he confirmed we were physically okay. Seeing Liam return, my mom immediately found a new target to vent to. “Liam, please, talk some sense into her.” “Chloe is getting more and more selfish. Her own flesh and blood hit a rough patch, what’s the big deal with helping them out?” “Her aunt was practically on her knees begging, and Chloe threatened to call the cops on her!” Hearing the full story, the usual gentle warmth vanished from Liam’s face. He stood up, blocking me from her view, his tone turning hard and icy: “Mom, that doula was hired to take care of Chloe and the baby.” “Chloe has a fractured leg. She is precisely the one who needs professional care right now. If we give the nurse away and Chloe suffers permanent nerve damage, who is going to take responsibility?” “You are Chloe’s biological mother. Is an outsider’s pride really more important than your daughter’s leg?” My mom choked on her words. She clearly didn’t expect her usually mild-mannered son-in-law to confront her so directly. She froze for a few seconds before turning her embarrassment into anger, immediately playing the victim card. “Fine! So you two are ganging up to bully an old woman!” “Do you think it’s been easy for me to support our relatives all these years? Everyone praises me for being a generous soul, is that a crime?!” “Who do you think I do it for? I do it to build good karma for Chloe!” “Good karma?” I finally lost it. I asked Liam to go into the study and bring out an old ledger I kept in my desk. It was the “record of blood and tears” I had been documenting since I was a teenager. I told Liam to open it and read it out loud, line by line, so my mother could hear. “Sophomore year of college. I worked three jobs and earned a $1,200 scholarship. You stole it to buy my cousin Tyler the newest gaming console. You told me it was a ‘loan.’ It has never been repaid.” “My first year working. My company gave me a premium imported seafood gift basket. Before I even opened the box, you hauled it over to Aunt Susan’s house. I never even saw a shrimp shell.” “The two-bedroom condo I bought before my wedding. You guilt-tripped me into letting Aunt Susan use it as Tyler’s marital home, saying it was just temporary. They lived there for three years. I never saw a dime in rent, and I was the one paying their utility bills!” The more Liam read, the darker his face became. “Mom, your ‘good reputation’ was bought entirely by slicing pieces of meat off my bones.” “I am your daughter, not your personal blood bank!” Having all her dirty laundry aired out, my mom’s pride was entirely shattered. She shot up from the sofa, snatched the ledger from Liam’s hands, and threw it violently onto the floor. “I raised you! What’s wrong with spending some of your money?! You’re exactly like your deadbeat father—ungrateful and heartless!” With that, she stormed into the guest room, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. Liam hugged me gently, patting my back. “Don’t be angry, it’s bad for your recovery. You have me now. I won’t let them leech off you ever again.” His embrace was warm, but the chilling cold in my heart refused to dissipate. Late that night. My phone buzzed. It was a voice memo from Aunt Susan. Her tone held zero trace of the afternoon’s hostility. Instead, it was dripping with an entitled, greedy sweetness. “Chloe, sweetheart! Don’t worry about the doula, I don’t need her anymore. But I heard you guys have some fancy imported physical therapy machine? Your sister-in-law is recovering from childbirth and feeling very weak. Can we borrow it?” “Your leg is already messed up anyway, so skipping it for a couple of days won’t hurt.” This family were literal leeches. Once they latched on, they never let go. Early the next morning, right after Liam left for the office, Aunt Susan showed up at our door with my cousin, Tyler. This time they played it smart. They didn’t come empty-handed; they brought a basket of bruised, rotting apples. “Oh, Chloe, I was just too anxious yesterday, I spoke out of turn. Don’t take it to heart.” Aunt Susan dropped the apples on the table and immediately started scanning the room. Finally, her eyes locked onto the physical therapy machine running next to my leg. It was a medical-grade CPM (Continuous Passive Motion) machine that Liam had specially flown in from Germany for $12,000. It was designed specifically to prevent muscle atrophy after my type of surgery. The doctor had given strict orders: I had to use it for at least four hours every single day. “Is this that therapy machine? Looks fancy.” Aunt Susan marched over and reached for the power plug. “Perfect timing. My husband’s back has been acting up, and my daughter-in-law is in pain too. We’ll take it back so the whole family can get some use out of it.” I slammed my hand down on the machine. “No.” “This is medical equipment, not a toy. If you use it wrong, you could seriously injure someone. And I am in the middle of my rehabilitation. I cannot stop using it.” Aunt Susan’s face instantly dropped. “Chloe, why do you have to be so stingy? Lending it out for a bit isn’t going to break it!” Tyler, who had been silent until now, suddenly lunged forward and forcefully shoved my hand away. “Mom, why are you wasting your breath on her?! Aunt Brenda already promised we could take it!” Saying that, he moved to lift the heavy machine. I panicked. Ignoring the heavy cast on my leg, I struggled forward to block them. “This is my property! I am not lending it to you! This is robbery!” Right at that moment, my mom walked out of the kitchen. She was still holding a spatula. Without even looking at me, she barked: “Chloe! Let go of it!” “It’s just a stupid machine! Let your cousin use it for a couple of days, what’s the big deal?!” “Your sister-in-law is recovering from a hard labor! You skipping your little leg massage for two days isn’t going to kill you!” I stared at my mother in utter disbelief. “Mom, this is my lifeline! The doctor said if I stop for even a day, my muscles could permanently atrophy!” My mom walked over, rolling her eyes impatiently. “Stop listening to doctors trying to scare you! You’re just being a drama queen!” In her desperation to help Tyler wrestle the machine away from me, she reached out and shoved me hard. “I said let go! Why are you being such a brat?!” I was sitting in a wheelchair. Her shove hit me squarely in the shoulder. The wheelchair tipped over. I crashed heavily onto the marble floor. The freshly set bone in my leg slammed violently against the hard stone. CRACK! An agonizing pain, like thousands of volts of electricity, shot through my entire body. I let out a blood-curdling scream. Cold sweat instantly soaked my clothes. Aunt Susan and Tyler jumped, almost dropping the machine. But they didn’t stop. Instead, they took the opportunity to grab the heavy device and sprint toward the door. Tyler yelled over his shoulder, “She fell on her own! It has nothing to do with us!” Aunt Susan ran faster than a rabbit. “Exactly! Brenda, you saw it! We didn’t even touch her!” They grabbed my medical lifeline and bolted out the front door. And my own biological mother stood frozen in place, looking down at me collapsed on the floor. A flash of panic crossed her eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by irritation. “Stop screaming! You’re perfectly fine!” “You just had to fight with your own family! If you fell, you brought it on yourself!” The excruciating pain made my vision go black in waves. I felt a warm, thick liquid slide down inside the cast, quickly soaking through the fabric of my pajama pants, blooming into a dark red stain. The bone had displaced. It had likely punctured an artery. My screams terrified my baby daughter in the bassinet, and she began wailing at the top of her lungs. I weakly lifted my head and looked at my mother. “Mom… help me…” “There’s so much blood… take me to the hospital…” My mom saw the blood pooling on the floor, and her face changed. She instinctively took a step toward me, reaching her hands out to help. But at that exact moment, Aunt Susan’s frantic voice echoed from the hallway outside: “Brenda! Hurry up and come help us! This machine is too heavy, we can’t fit it in the trunk!” My mom’s footsteps halted. She looked down at me, drenched in cold sweat and hovering on the edge of unconsciousness. Then she looked toward the door. Aunt Susan urged her again: “Brenda! Hurry up! Don’t let that brat Chloe change her mind and chase after us!” My mom hesitated for exactly one second. She turned around, pointed her finger at me, and spat: “Stop faking it! A little blood isn’t going to kill you!” “I’m going to help your aunt load this downstairs, then I’ll come back and deal with you!” With that, she turned her back and walked out. I watched in total despair as the front door clicked shut. This was my biological mother. As I lay there fighting for my life, she chose to go help robbers load their stolen goods. The agony was making my consciousness fade. But I couldn’t die. My daughter was still crying. I bit down on my lip until it bled, using my elbows to drag my body across the floor, inch by agonizing inch, toward the coffee table. Behind me, a long, horrific trail of blood painted the marble floor. Finally, my trembling fingers brushed against my phone. I tried to unlock it, my blood-slicked thumb slipping against the sensor several times before it worked. I dialed Liam’s number. “Hello? Honey?” The moment the call connected, I used my last breath to force out a single word: “Help…” The phone slipped from my grasp. Darkness swallowed me whole. I don’t know how much time passed. I vaguely heard the deafening sound of the front door being violently smashed open. “CHLOE!!!” It was Liam’s voice, tearing out of his throat in pure agony. That was followed by chaotic, rushing footsteps and the horrified shouts of the building’s security guards. Right then, a voice humming a light, cheerful tune drifted from the hallway. It was my mom. She had finished loading the stolen goods and was returning at her leisure. “What’s all this racket? You’re going to tear the door off its hinges!” “She just fell down, is a huge scene really necessary…” Her voice abruptly died in her throat the moment she saw the crowd of people and the massive pool of blood covering the living room floor. Liam, holding my blood-soaked body in his arms, slowly raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot and feral as he locked onto her. I wasn’t “faking it.” I was actually dying.

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At 11:59 PM, fighting down the annoyance of being woken up by my phone, I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the VIP lounge. “Excuse me, everyone. So sorry to interrupt. I’m just here to pick up my husband.” The next second, the entire room’s New Year’s countdown died in their throats. Dozens of eyes belonging to the city’s corporate elite snapped toward me, pinning me to the spot. Sitting dead center in the VIP booth was a man in a razor-sharp bespoke suit, his features striking and cold, slowly turning a crystal whiskey glass in his hand. “…Maya Evans?” Someone finally broke the dead silence. “Tonight is an Ivy League alumni New Year’s mixer, not a shelter for community college dropouts.” The room erupted in mocking laughter. “Wait, isn’t she the girl from the ‘Manifest Destiny’ scandal? The one where the valedictorian intentionally tanked his entire AP History final just to prove a point to the teacher and make her smile?” “I heard she spent years manipulating her way into her stepbrother’s bed and trapped him into marriage. Why else would he marry an academic failure like her? Now that he’s with Chloe, who actually has a Ph.D. from Oxford, they’re a true power couple. How does she even have the nerve to show her face here?” The stares from across the table felt like thousands of tiny needles. They would never know the truth. Julian Vance used to be dead last in our high school class. He worked himself to the bone, grinding his way to the top of the academic ladder, entirely for me. But the past didn’t matter anymore. Meeting their hostile gazes, I didn’t show the humiliation they were expecting. I just offered a slight, tight smile and said calmly: “I’m not here to ring in the New Year with you elites. I’m here to pick up my husband and take him home.” Julian finally lifted his eyes, his gaze dark and heavy. “Maya, we’ve been divorced for three years.” I let the corners of my mouth curve up into a perfectly polite, practiced smile. “I know.” “Which is why I never said I was here to pick you up, Mr. Vance.” 1 “Have you no shame? You’re divorced, and you’re still trying to leech off Julian.” A few suppressed snickers echoed through the lounge. Carter struck a match, lit his cigarette, and looked at me with lazy disdain. “This is the first time I’ve seen someone actually volunteer to be the other woman.” Carter was Julian and I’s best friend in high school. He used to be the second-best person to me in the entire world. But when Julian and I were going through our vicious divorce, he didn’t hesitate for a second to take Julian’s side. Because the girl Carter had been in love with for years was the exact same woman who had destroyed my marriage. And he had been helping Julian hide their affair the entire time. I was the only one kept in the dark, playing the fool from start to finish. “Carter, enough,” Julian snapped, his lips pressed into a thin line. Carter refused to back down, aggressively putting out his cigarette. “Why shouldn’t I say it? An idiot like Maya Evans can’t even begin to compare to a brilliant woman like Chloe.” “You were the only one blind enough to look twice at a moron like her, letting her drag you down for all those years.” Julian met my eyes, his voice low. “Maya isn’t a moron.” Maya isn’t a moron. Hearing that from a certified genius like Julian. It actually sounded completely ridiculous. But back when I was sixteen, I believed those words with my whole heart. The summer before freshman year of high school, my mom married Julian’s dad. Julian and I were the same age, so we ended up at the same public high school. We were even placed in the same homeroom. He was ranked dead last; I was comfortably in the middle. Julian hated me, so he completely ignored my existence. I constantly saw him getting into fights and ending up in the principal’s office. Immediately following those fights, my mom would be called in, forced to bow her head and swallow insults from furious parents and administrators. One night, I got up to get a glass of water and saw my mom sitting alone in the dark living room, wiping away tears. “Maya, what do I have to do to make Julian accept me?” I didn’t know the answer. I only knew that after that night. The fragile, distant peace between Julian and me evaporated into open warfare. I put hot sauce in his Gatorade, dumped muddy water into his backpack, and spiked his lunch with laxatives. Julian laid down the law, his voice dripping with venom. “Is that all you’ve got? Let me tell you something, Maya. If you don’t break me, I’m going to break your mother!” We stayed locked in that toxic standoff for half a year. I thought I would hate Julian Vance for the rest of my life. But in the end, he became the only person in this world who still loved me. 2 Julian and I’s war ended abruptly after a brutal incident of domestic violence. Julian’s dad beat my mom so badly she had to be hospitalized. When they were loading her into the ambulance, his dad was still screaming abuse. “I chased you for two years! You’re nothing but a pretty face! You’re completely useless!” My mom was almost forty. She had been spoiled rotten by my biological father for the first half of her life, so naturally, she lacked basic survival skills. When Julian heard his dad screaming those words, his cold, hostile demeanor completely shattered. He looked at me in shock, muttering to himself. “It wasn’t your mom who seduced my dad…” Julian hated my mom because he always believed she was the homewrecker who had driven his own mother away. None of that mattered anymore. Because after that day. I didn’t have a mother, either. When I carried my mom’s favorite white gerbera daisies to the hospital, I found out she had bolted. She didn’t take a single thing with her. And she didn’t take me. Maya Evans no longer had a home. I had nowhere to go. I was wandering the freezing streets in the middle of the night when Julian finally found me. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked incredibly angry. Terrified he was going to hit me, I curled myself into a tight ball on the sidewalk. Amidst my panic, his warm arms wrapped tightly around me. It was the first time I had ever heard him speak so gently. “Maya, come home with me.” “From now on, I’ll be your whole world.” I took his outstretched hand and held on tight. So, starting from the year I was sixteen. Maya Evans’s entire world consisted solely of Julian Vance. 3 After my mom left, Julian’s dad’s temper grew even more violent. Terrified that I would get hurt, Julian took me and moved us out into a tiny, rundown apartment. Our lives continued, but everything was different. I stopped playing practical jokes, and Julian’s harsh edges softened. He started spending more and more time reading and studying. I couldn’t help but ask him one day. “You used to hate reading. You hated going to class.” He looked at me with intense seriousness, then helplessly pinched my cheek, his voice soft. “Maya, I want to give you a better life.” Looking at the tips of his ears turning red, I nodded emphatically. Maya Evans absolutely refused to drag Julian down. So I threw myself into my studies with everything I had. But when Julian skyrocketed from dead last to valedictorian… I was still barely hovering in the middle of the pack. Julian would stay up until midnight tutoring me. I stared at the calculus problems on the page and just shook my head. He said, “Maya, you really are a bit of an idiot.” “But, I love it when you’re a little dumb. It’s incredibly cute.” Exhaustion crashed over me, and the pen slipped from my limp fingers. I mumbled sleepily. “Julian, can you please slow down? I’m not going to be able to catch up to you.” Julian said: I would never have to chase him. He would wait for me, forever. He didn’t keep that promise. Because later, he absolutely despised how “dumb” I was. I became a nuisance. 4 “She’s not dumb? You busted your ass tutoring her, and she still only managed to scrape into some no-name state school.” Carter flicked his lighter, keeping the insults coming. I scanned the lounge but didn’t see my husband, Liam Thorne, anywhere. Liam had gone to the same university as Julian, but he was in the business school. They wouldn’t naturally run in the same circles. I figured he must have texted me the wrong address. I was too exhausted to dredge up the past. “Excuse me,” I said, turning on my heel to leave. I texted Liam, but he didn’t reply. My calls went straight to voicemail. I decided to just head home. Just as I reached for the handle of the lounge door, a hand shot out and gripped my wrist tight. “Maya, please forgive me.” Julian stared down at me, his eyes swirling with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. Hearing him use my name like that… It used to make me blush. It used to be the perfect, intimate way to flirt with someone as rigid as Julian. But later, those exact same words were the ones that destroyed me. “Julian, are you addicted to acting?” I shook off his hand, my face blank. “I don’t know you.” As the tension in the room thickened, a soft scoff broke the awkward silence. “Maya Evans. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Chloe walked over in her designer heels, as arrogant and aggressive as ever. In the past, I would have been intimidated by her presence. I would have been envious, looking up to her, and inevitably feeling a deep sense of inferiority. But now, after agonizing over that toxic past a million times, all that was left was a dead, flat calm. “Maya, why don’t you come home with Julian and me? Your mother misses you so much.” Even I was surprised by how calmly I could respond to that after three years. “I don’t have a mother.” My supposed family. They had all chosen Chloe. And I… had long since decided I didn’t need them either. Chloe grabbed my wrist, “accidentally” displaying the vintage emerald bracelet on her arm. It was the heirloom Julian’s mother had left him. I had worn that bracelet for ten years. My relationship with Julian had only lasted ten years. 5 Carter was right. I really was an idiot. Even with Julian pouring every ounce of his energy into tutoring me, I still only managed to get into a mediocre state college. Julian, however, secured the highest SAT score in the state and went straight to the Ivy League. We were both in the Northeast, so the distance wasn’t terrible. Even though we couldn’t be together every day, our time was sweet and intensely close. It was the simplest kind of happiness, and it remains a memory I will never be able to fully erase. Julian was handsome, brilliant, and constantly pursued. But he gave me absolute, unwavering security. During college, I often visited him on his campus. He was too famous. Every little thing he did drew everyone’s attention. Gradually, rumors started spreading on the campus forums that I wasn’t good enough for him. They said I had nothing but a pretty face. No skills, no background, just a total idiot who didn’t deserve to stand next to a god like him. Julian had already made our relationship completely public. When he saw the comments, he was furious. He said they just didn’t understand how wonderful I was. So, on his final exam for AP European History. He intentionally answered every single question about “Manifest Destiny” incorrectly, twisting the historical facts into a bizarre, romanticized essay dedicated to me. He nearly failed the class and was officially reprimanded by the department head for being “obsessed with a high school romance.” The incident sent shockwaves through the entire campus. Julian wanted to make absolutely certain that everyone knew I was his girlfriend. But when it came time to get married, he said: “Maya, let’s keep the marriage quiet for now.” “Just give me a few more years. When I’ve made it to the top, I’ll give you the grandest wedding imaginable.” I agreed. By our fourth anniversary, Julian had already built a highly successful tech firm. I never got the grand wedding I was dreaming of. Instead, I got his infidelity. 6 On our fourth anniversary, Julian exploded in a terrifying rage. Because I had lost the emerald bracelet he gave me. He stormed out of the house, furious. It was the first time in his life he had ever spoken to me so cruelly. It was pouring rain that night. I searched every single place we had been to. I suddenly remembered the tiny, rundown apartment we had shared during high school. Julian had bought that apartment years ago. Because the walls inside were covered with thousands of photos of us from those three years. The moment I pushed the door open. I saw Julian pinning another woman to the bed. Thrusting into her with primal intensity. In that exact moment, my scalp went numb, and I lost the ability to scream. I knew who she was. Chloe. Julian had mentioned her to me, but rarely. At first, he told me Chloe’s dad had forced her onto his corporate board, and he thought she was just going to be a massive headache. But later, he said Chloe was actually incredibly competent. Brilliant, even. And it was right around that time that Julian started treating me like I was stupid. Our shared interests dwindled to nothing, and Julian would constantly say: “Can you just stop asking? Even if I explain it, you won’t understand.” “Maya, you really are an idiot.” But I was genuinely happy that he had found a business partner who matched his intellect. Yet now, Chloe was wearing that emerald bracelet, her eyes filled with blatant, triumphant mockery. I had been tortured by guilt, crawling on my hands and knees like a dog, searching everywhere for that bracelet. It turned out I hadn’t lost it. Julian had simply taken it and placed it on someone else’s wrist. She slowly, elegantly sat up, leaning back against Julian’s chest. “What are you so shocked about?” “In your bed at the penthouse, in the shower, against the floor-to-ceiling windows… we’ve done it everywhere.” “Tonight, we just wanted to see what it felt like to do it in the place where you two had your first time.” A deafening roar filled my ears, and all the strength instantly drained from my body. Operating on pure, visceral instinct, I grabbed a framed photo from the nightstand and hurled it at them. Julian shielded her with his body, his eyes blazing with fury. “Maya, have you lost your fucking mind?!” The man who had once promised to be my entire world. Shoved me violently to the floor. My hands were covered in bloody shards of glass from the shattered photo frame. It was the very first photo Julian and I had ever taken together. He had his arms wrapped around me, looking incredibly smug, like he was showing off a prize. But now, it was shattered. And the eyes of the man standing in front of me held nothing but absolute disgust. Before I could even process what was happening, another bombshell detonated in my ears. “Maya, can you stop throwing a tantrum? You are completely suffocating. No wonder your own mother abandoned you!” It turned out my mother had remarried years ago. She had married Chloe’s father. For ten years, she had showered Chloe with all the love and affection I had desperately craved. My decade of fantasies… had officially become a living nightmare. Later, when Julian demanded a divorce. I refused to give them what they wanted, but I was completely powerless against them. Every single person I loved had turned their weapons on me. My husband. My best friend. And my mother.

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A year ago, he threw out a casual, “I don’t think we’re a good fit,” and walked away without looking back. There were two coffees on the table. He hadn’t touched his. He left me the bill. A year later, he was standing at my office door. His face was ghost-white. His hands were shaking. “Ms…. Ms. Miller?” I looked at him and smiled. “Come in. And close the door.” Chapter 1 The story has to start with a blind date a year ago. My mom had been nagging me on the phone for three months straight. “You’re twenty-seven, Chloe! If you don’t start dating seriously now, all the good ones will be taken!” “Mom, I’m busy with work—” “Busy, busy, busy. You’ll know what ‘busy’ really means when you’re thirty and dying alone!” I couldn’t win against her. So, I went. His name was Brad Hudson, twenty-eight, a sales supervisor at a tech firm. My mom’s exact words were: “He’s a top-tier university grad, makes over six figures, and he’s sharp-looking. Put your best foot forward.” I arrived five minutes early. Ordered two coffees and sat waiting. I waited ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Forty minutes. Just as I was about to get up and leave, he walked in. Suit, dress shoes, a Longines watch on his wrist. He scanned the restaurant upon entering, then spotted me. I noticed his expression. It was brief, maybe half a second. But I saw it clearly. Disappointment. That “you don’t look like your profile picture” kind of disappointment. Actually, the photo was me. Five-foot-two, slightly chubby, wearing glasses, average skin. But on dating apps, who doesn’t touch up their photos a bit? He obviously felt I had touched mine up too much. He sat down, offering no apology for being late. “Are you Chloe Miller?” “Yes, hi.” “Hmm.” He picked up the menu, flipped through it twice, then put it back down. “What do you do?” “Project management.” “Which company?” “A tech firm, Nexus Digital.” He thought about it. “Never heard of it. Big company?” “It’s alright.” “What’s your salary?” I paused, stunned. Seriously? This direct? “It’s enough to get by.” “I mean a specific number.” He leaned back in his chair. “Don’t mind me, I just want to understand the situation. We’re both adults; discussing terms is normal.” “A little over fifty thousand.” I was talking about my base salary. I didn’t count bonuses, project dividends, and stock options. But he didn’t need to know that. “A little over fifty…” He nodded, a look I was all too familiar with. That’s it? “Education?” “Bachelor’s.” “Where from?” “State University.” “Just a state school?” “Yes.” He nodded again. A silence stretched for about five seconds. Then his phone rang. He picked up. “Hey? Oh, right. Okay, I’m on my way.” He hung up, looking at me. “Sorry, some urgent business came up at the office.” He stood up. “I don’t think we’re a very good fit. Don’t take it personally.” He grabbed his car keys off the table. “You can have the coffee. I didn’t touch mine.” And then he left. From the time he sat down to the time he left was a total of eight minutes. I sat there, watching his back disappear through the doorway. Two coffees on the table. The bill was twelve dollars. He didn’t pay. I called the waiter over. “Check, please.” Walking out of the coffee shop, I wasn’t actually that sad. It was a setup; it’s normal not to click. But one thing happened that made me truly angry. It was three days later. My mom called me. Her voice was trembling. “Chloe… that guy you met… did you offend him somehow?” “What’s wrong?” “Aunt Sarah sent me a screenshot…” My mom forwarded the screenshot to me. It was an iMessage group chat. The group was named “The Boys’ Night Out.” Brad had posted a photo. It was my photo. A sneaky picture he took the moment he walked in, while I was sitting in the coffee shop waiting for him. Below the photo was a paragraph of text: “Look at who my mom set me up with, I’m dying laughing. Barely five-foot-two, fat, wearing glasses like a high schooler, state school grad, making fifty grand. With these conditions, she still comes out on dates? I sat for eight minutes and ran, Hahahahaha.” A row of replies followed: “Hahahahaha, your mom really isn’t picky.” “Bro, you suffered.” “If this photo gets out, she won’t come looking for you, will she?” “What’s there to be afraid of? She doesn’t know us.” I stared at the screen. My fingers went cold. Not out of sadness. But out of rage. He could dislike me. But he had no right to take my photo to amuse a bunch of guys. My mom was crying on the other end of the phone. “Chloe, Mom is so sorry, I shouldn’t have made you go…” “Mom, it’s fine.” My voice was flat. “What was his name again? Brad? Brad what?” “Brad Hudson…” “Which company?” “He said something called… Apex or something…” “Got it.” I hung up the phone. I opened my laptop and searched for “Brad Hudson.” He was on LinkedIn. Apex Technology, Midwest Regional Sales Supervisor. I searched for Apex Technology. I saw a piece of information. And smiled. Apex Technology is a subsidiary under the Sterling Group umbrella. And Sterling Group’s fully-owned technology subsidiary is called Nexus Digital. The exact “never heard of it” little company I worked for. I shut down my laptop. No rush. We will meet eventually. Chapter 2 A year later. I stood at the entrance of Apex Technology’s Midwest branch. My reflection showed on the glass doors. Still five-foot-two. But I’d lost fifteen pounds. Contacts replaced the glasses. My hair was cut short, just reaching my shoulders. I was wearing a black blazer over a crisp white shirt. Carrying a laptop bag in my hand. My corporate badge read: Sterling Group · Project Management Department · Director · Chloe Miller. A year ago, Brad Hudson asked me my salary, and I said a little over fifty thousand. That was the base salary. Adding bonuses, project dividends, and year-end payouts, I took home nearly two hundred thousand last year. Earlier this year, the corporate group underwent an organizational restructuring. I was promoted to Director of Project Management, responsible for overseeing project operations for all subsidiaries in the Midwest region. Including Apex Technology. The transfer order came down last month. Signed personally by the Group VP. “Several Midwest subsidiaries have anomalies in their business data. Go investigate. Clean house if you need to, replace people if you need to.” I said okay. Then I looked at Apex Technology’s Midwest branch employee roster. Sales Team 2 Supervisor: Brad Hudson. I stared at the computer screen for three seconds. Then I closed it and moved on to the next file. No rush. See you on Monday. Monday morning, 9:00 AM. Apex Technology Midwest branch, third-floor conference room. The Regional Director, Gary Vance, led me in. He was in his early fifties, with a beer belly and a loud, booming voice. “Everyone, let me introduce someone. This is Ms. Chloe Miller sent from corporate headquarters. She will be responsible for our project management and operational oversight here in the Midwest from now on.” He glanced at me, a look I was all too familiar with. Skepticism. What could a twenty-eight-year-old girl manage? I didn’t care. “Everyone cooperate fully with Ms. Miller. If you need anything, just speak up.” Gary finished and smiled at me. “Ms. Miller, want to say a few words to everyone?” I stood up, scanning the conference room. Over twenty people. When my gaze swept to the third row by the window, it paused for a moment. Brad Hudson. He was also looking at me. But he obviously hadn’t recognized me yet. A year apart, I had changed quite a bit. He, on the other hand, hadn’t changed much at all. Still that arrogant, confident look, dressed sharply in a suit, that Longines watch still on his wrist. “Hi everyone, I’m Chloe Miller.” My voice wasn’t loud, but the conference room was dead silent. “For the next little while, I will be based here in the Midwest, primarily responsible for analyzing and optimizing project operations. I look forward to your cooperation.” Brief. I don’t like wasting words. After the meeting adjourned, Brad walked right past me. He took an extra look at me. Walked two steps, then turned his head to look again. I didn’t look at him. He probably felt I looked a bit familiar. But he couldn’t remember where he’d seen me. It didn’t matter. He would remember. In the afternoon. I was in my office organizing the project reports for the Midwest from the last six months. There was a knock on the door. “Ms. Miller, I’m Brad Hudson from Sales Team 2.” He pushed the door open and entered, wearing a standard corporate smile. “Mr. Vance asked me to come coordinate Team 2’s business data with you.” He placed the file on my desk. I took it, flipping through two pages. “Sit.” He sat down. I continued looking at the file, not speaking. He waited for a while. “Ms. Miller, you look… quite familiar.” I flipped a page. “Oh?” “Have we met somewhere before?” I lifted my head, looking at him. He studied me carefully for a few seconds. Then his expression changed. From “social curiosity” to “I might have seen her somewhere.” Then to “She looks a bit like—” And finally froze on “No way.” “You…” His voice got stuck in his throat. “Are you…” “Supervisor Hudson, the Q3 collections data in this report doesn’t match the system.” I lowered my head, pointing at a number on the document. “Verify this for me.” He was stunned for two seconds. “O… Okay.” He stood up, taking the document. When he reached the door, he looked back at me. I didn’t lift my head. He went out. The door closed. I heard him standing in the hallway for a long time. Before his footsteps finally walked away. Chapter 3 That night. I guessed Brad was definitely scrolling through his phone. Scrolling through his blind date history from a year ago. Scrolling through the chat logs in “The Boys’ Night Out” group. Scrolling to that photo he secretly took of me. And then comparing it to the person sitting in the director’s office today. Sure enough. First thing the next morning, he came to find me. His face didn’t look good. “Ms. Miller…” He stood at the door, hesitating. “Are you… last year… did we…” “What?” I looked at him. He swallowed hard. “Nothing, I verified the report. The data was entered incorrectly. I’ve already fixed it.” He put the file down and almost fled from the room. I watched his retreating back. Exactly the same as a year ago. Never looking back. Except a year ago, he walked away in disgust. Today, he ran away in fear. After Brad recognized me, his attitude completely shifted. He became exceptionally attentive. Every morning, he was the first in the office, brewing tea for me. At noon, he proactively asked if I wanted him to pick up lunch for me. When reporting his work, he was deferential and respectful. But I noticed something else. While he was being attentive to me, he was doing something else too. For example—getting much closer to Gary Vance. On my third day at Apex, Brad took Gary out for a fancy dinner. I knew, because the next day Gary said something to me. “Ms. Miller, Brad is a good kid. Very capable. He’s our sales benchmark in the Midwest. If you have any questions looking at the data, don’t jump to conclusions. You can always ask me first.” I smiled. “Understood, Mr. Vance.” He still didn’t know why I was really here. During the first week, I didn’t make any big moves. I just looked at data. Reviewing it file by file. Apex Technology Midwest branch: four sales teams, totaling over forty people. The first thing I looked at was Brad’s Sales Team 2. Not because of a personal grudge. But because Team 2’s data was indeed the “prettiest.” Ranked number one in performance for three consecutive quarters. Brad personally held the title of top sales rep for two years running. It was too pretty. Pretty to the point of being abnormal. I pulled up Team 2’s client ledgers for the past year and reviewed them one by one. I saw some very interesting things. There was a girl on Team 2 named Mia Jenkins. She’d been here two years, and her performance was always at the bottom. But three clients she followed up on last year were all “transferred” to Brad right before the contracts were signed. The system record showed: “Client proactively requested a change of representative.” Three clients, all with the exact same reason. Too coincidental. I checked others. Another Team 2 member, Tom Weaver, a veteran who had been here for five years and had a lot of legacy clients. Last year, eight of his legacy clients renewed their contracts. For three of those renewals, the “Sales Representative” on the contract had changed to Brad Hudson. Notes: Resource consolidation. I flipped through Brad’s performance evaluation forms. Gary Vance’s signature was on them. “Brad Hudson exhibits outstanding business capabilities and excels at resource consolidation. He is an exemplary sales representative for the Midwest region.” Resource consolidation. What a nice way to phrase it.

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The notification from the Van Cleef & Arpels customer service app popped up on my phone. “Your Alhambra jewelry set has been serviced and is ready for pickup at our South Lake Avenue boutique.” I read the message three times. The Alhambra set was a family heirloom left to me by my mother. It was currently locked inside the safe in my house. I certainly hadn’t sent it in for servicing. And I had never set foot in the South Lake Avenue boutique in my life. I picked up my phone and called the store. “Hello, could you tell me who dropped off this set for servicing?” The associate checked the system. “Ma’am, it was dropped off by a Ms. Chloe Davis last Thursday.” Chloe Davis. I didn’t know anyone named Chloe Davis. But my jewelry was in her possession. 1. I didn’t rush home to check the safe. Instead, I drove straight to the South Lake Avenue boutique. The Van Cleef & Arpels sales associate was very polite and pulled up the service record for me. “This is the client,” she said, showing me the registration details. Chloe Davis. I didn’t recognize the phone number. The last four digits of her Social Security Number were listed on the intake form. “She mentioned her boyfriend gifted it to her and asked us to do a deep clean,” the associate added with a smile. “Boyfriend?” “Yes, she said her boyfriend spoils her rotten, buying her the entire matching set.” I nodded slowly. “Is the set currently here in the store?” “Yes, it’s all polished and ready for pickup anytime.” I stared into the display case where they kept serviced items. There it was—the Alhambra set I knew intimately: the necklace, earrings, bracelet, and ring. My mother had bought it at their flagship store in New York back in 2015. The original receipt was sitting in a drawer at my house. “I won’t pick it up today,” I told her. “I’ll let Ms. Davis come get it.” After leaving the boutique, I sat in my car for ten minutes. Then, I opened my phone and started scrolling through my husband’s Instagram and Facebook feeds. Mark’s social media had always looked perfectly clean. But he utilized custom friend lists and privacy settings. In the posts hidden from my view, was there a woman named Chloe Davis? I didn’t snoop through his phone. I did something much more effective. I opened the Chase banking app to check the statement for his secondary credit card. He had voluntarily given me this authorized user card years ago to help me track household expenses. He had probably forgotten that as an authorized user, I could also view the transaction history of the primary cardholder. I started scrolling back. One month ago. Two months ago. Three months ago. Line by line. Florist—Every Friday, the exact same shop, $188. Hotels—At least twice a month, always the same luxury boutique hotel, always on the weekends he claimed he was traveling for “business.” Women’s Apparel—Max Mara, Sandro, Self-Portrait. None of them were my size. I wore a Medium. Every purchase on the statement was a Size Small. Then, the most glaring transaction hit me: Three months ago, at a custom jewelry atelier: $6,800. The memo read: Engraving service. He had never gotten anything engraved for me. In our ten years of marriage, the most expensive gift he ever bought me was a two-thousand-dollar handbag. His exact words had been: “You’re not really into dressing up anyway, why spend so much on luxury stuff?” I closed the app. My hands weren’t shaking. My heart was racing, but my mind was terrifyingly clear. Mark, how long have you been lying to me? I reopened the statement and scrolled further back. Six months. A year. A year and a half. The weekly florist charges started exactly a year and a half ago. Every single Friday. Like clockwork. For eighteen months. I took a deep breath. Okay. Now I knew. 2. I didn’t confront Mark. Instead, I did something else—I started investigating Chloe Davis. The method was simple. Every Friday night, Mark “worked late.” This Friday, I took the afternoon off. At 5:30 PM, I parked across the street from his office building. At 5:50 PM, he walked out. He was holding a bouquet of flowers. Pink roses. He got into his car and headed toward the South Lake district. I tailed him from a safe distance. He pulled up to the gated entrance of a luxury condo complex. South Lake Gardens. A woman in a white sundress hurried out to meet him. She was young. Maybe twenty-five or twenty-six. She smiled brightly, took the flowers, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Mark wrapped his arm around her waist, and the two of them walked through the lobby doors together. I sat in my car, watching them disappear into the building. Around the woman’s neck hung a necklace. From sixty feet away, I couldn’t make out the exact design. But I recognized the distinct luster of the chain. It was the unmistakable gleam of platinum. I waited for an hour. They didn’t come back out. I pulled out my phone and took a photo of the complex entrance. South Lake Gardens, Building B. Then, I looked up the phone number for the property management office. The next day, under the guise of a “misdelivered package,” I tried to fish for resident information in Building B. Property management refused to give me any details. So, I tried a different approach—I staked out the front gate for two days. On the afternoon of the second day, I saw the woman come out to pick up a package from a delivery driver. I managed to catch a glimpse of the shipping label: Chloe Davis. The address: South Lake Gardens, Building B, Unit 1502. Chloe Davis. The woman who had taken my jewelry to Van Cleef & Arpels for servicing. I got back into my car and searched her name online. I didn’t find much. But I did run a public property records search for Unit 1502 in Building B of South Lake Gardens. The registered owner: Mark Sterling. Date of purchase: 2023. We got married in 2014. He had bought this condo during our marriage. Where did the money come from? I checked the credit card statements again. There were no massive withdrawals or down payment charges. He hadn’t used his credit cards to buy the condo. So where did the cash come from? I opened another app—our joint high-yield savings account. I scrolled back. Late 2022, a massive outbound transfer: $120,000. Transfer destination: Mark Sterling’s personal checking account. Memo: Investment. I had asked him about it at the time. He had told me, “It’s a buddy’s startup project. Very low risk. We’ll see a return in six months.” Six months later, I asked about the ROI. He said, “It’s still scaling up. Needs more time.” I hadn’t brought it up again. $120,000. Combined with a standard mortgage, it was more than enough for a down payment on a two-bedroom condo at South Lake Gardens. I sat in the driver’s seat and let out a dark laugh. Mark. You used our money to buy a condo for your mistress. You stole my jewelry to let your mistress flaunt it around town. And you had the nerve to tell me, “You’re not into dressing up.” Alright. Perfect. I started the engine. I didn’t go home. I drove straight to the law firm of my best friend, Rachel. 3. Rachel was my college roommate. She had been a high-powered divorce and family law attorney for eight years. I laid all the evidence out on her desk. The credit card statements. The property records. The joint account transfer logs. The screenshots from the Van Cleef & Arpels app. She reviewed the documents in silence for ten minutes. Then, she looked up at me. “The jewelry from your dowry—do you have an itemized inventory?” “Yes.” “What about proof of purchase?” “It’s all in my mother’s safe deposit box. Original receipts, certificates of authenticity, everything.” “Did your mother ever have it legally notarized as a gift?” I paused, stunned for a second. “She did.” It suddenly came rushing back to me. My mother was an incredibly meticulous woman. Before she got sick, she had a lawyer draft a notarized deed of gift—explicitly stating that these pieces of jewelry were gifted to me as my sole and separate property prior to marriage, completely exempt from any future marital or community property claims. At the time, I thought she was being overly paranoid. Now, I understood. She saw much further down the road than I ever could. Rachel nodded approvingly. “Do you have the notarized documents?” “Yes. They are filed with the receipts.” “Then this just became very straightforward,” Rachel said, her eyes sharp. “That jewelry is your premarital, separate property. You have the notarized deed, the receipts, and the certificates of authenticity. Mark took them without your consent and gave them to a third party. Under the law, this isn’t ‘mismanagement of marital assets.’ This is grand larceny.” “Grand larceny?” “Exactly.” Rachel leaned forward. “The value exceeds half a million dollars. That’s a massive felony. He’s looking at three to ten years in state prison.” I stared at her, processing the weight of it. “I’m not calling the cops just yet.” Rachel raised an eyebrow. “I need to confirm one thing first.” “What is it?” “Whether the rest of the jewelry is still in the safe at home.” Rachel instantly understood. “You think he swapped them out?” I nodded. “My mother left me twelve pieces in total. We know the four-piece Alhambra set is currently in that woman’s possession. As for the other eight…” I trailed off. Rachel slid a business card across the desk. “David Chen. Certified master gemologist and appraiser. Take whatever is left in your safe to him. He’ll tell you if they’re authentic.” I pocketed the card. “One more thing,” Rachel warned me. “When you go home tonight, act completely normal. Don’t say a word. Don’t ask any questions.” “I know.” “Make him believe you are completely oblivious.” “I know.” “Once we have all the evidence secured, we drop the hammer.” Drop the hammer. Those words gave me a profound sense of grim satisfaction. 4. When I got home, Mark was lounging on the sofa, watching TV. “Working late today?” he asked casually. “Yeah, pulling extra hours.” I walked into the master bedroom and locked the door behind me. I stood in front of the heavy steel safe in the closet. We had bought this safe during our second year of marriage. My mother had told me, “Your jewelry is highly valuable. You need to keep it secure.” The original passcode was my birthday. Later, Mark insisted that wasn’t secure enough and changed it to his birthday. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Looking back, he was already plotting his heist the day he changed that code. I punched in his birthday and pulled the heavy door open. The velvet jewelry boxes were all there. Not a single one was missing. The jade bangle. The diamond tennis necklace. The ruby drop earrings. The Mikimoto pearl set. … At first glance, everything was accounted for. But I didn’t touch them. I took out my phone and meticulously photographed every single piece in its box. The next day, while Mark was at work, I packed every piece from the safe into a discreet tote bag and drove to David Chen’s office. David was a man in his late fifties. Wearing a jeweler’s loupe, he examined each piece, one by one. The first item: the jade bangle. He examined it under harsh lighting for two minutes. He set it down. He looked up at me. “This is a replica.” My stomach dropped. “It’s Grade A treated jade, very well-crafted, but it’s not natural untreated jadeite. The color distribution on an authentic piece of this caliber wouldn’t be this unnaturally uniform.” The second item: the diamond necklace. He examined it for barely a minute. “Moissanite. Not diamonds.” The third item. The fourth. The fifth. Every single time he set a piece down, he shook his head. Out of the twelve pieces of jewelry, subtracting the four Alhambra pieces currently held by Chloe Davis… Eight pieces remained. All eight were counterfeits. Not a single genuine piece was left in the safe. I sat in the appraisal office, staring at the row of worthless fakes lined up on the velvet tray. David drafted the official appraisal reports for me. Eight separate reports. Every single one concluded: Non-natural / Replica / Counterfeit. My mother’s jade bangle. She had sold her childhood home in the suburbs to buy it for me. It had cost fifty-eight thousand dollars. She had told me, “This is your safety net. No matter what happens in your marriage, as long as you have this bangle, you have a way out.” She wore it for twenty years before taking it off her wrist and placing it on mine right before she passed away. Now, I had no idea where the real one was. Sitting in my safe was a cheap, mass-produced fake worth maybe a few hundred bucks. I carefully folded the appraisal reports and placed them in my bag. I didn’t shed a single tear. When I walked out of the appraisal office, the afternoon sun was blindingly bright. I stood on the sidewalk and texted Rachel: “Eight pieces. All fake.” Rachel replied instantly: “We have enough evidence. Next step: audit his company.”

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