After loving Ethan for three long years, I finally got the ending I had been waiting for. But on the night before our wedding, I couldn’t fall asleep. Toss and turn as I might, my mind was racing. I grabbed my phone and sent him a text. “Ethan, I’m so nervous. I can’t sleep!” His reply came almost instantly. “Go to sleep, babe. You need to be the most beautiful bride tomorrow.” A sweet smile spread across my face. I was just about to close my eyes and drift off when my phone buzzed again. It was a text from an unknown number. “Ethan’s heart has only ever belonged to me.” Attached was a photo of two people sharing a bed. The man in the photo was someone I knew all too well—my fiancé, Ethan. 0 A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. I couldn’t believe that the man who had just texted me so sweetly was currently lying in bed with someone else. I forced myself to stay calm. “Who is this?” I texted back. “This photo is obviously photoshopped!” I sent several messages in a row, but the other side went completely silent. Frantic, I called Ethan’s number. It rang and rang, but nobody picked up. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he answering me? Anxiety clawed at my chest like thousands of ants eating me alive. A few minutes later, a text finally came from Ethan. “What’s wrong, Val? I was fast asleep.” I let out a shaky breath. Maybe it was just an old photo sent by an bitter ex to mess with my head on my big day. But just as I was typing a reply telling him it was nothing, the unknown number sent another photo. This one was crystal clear. Ethan was lying in bed, staring at his phone screen. On the screen was our Snapchat chat box. The exact message he had just sent me was visible on his screen. My vision went black. Aside from pure, blinding rage, only cold dread remained. 0

Ethan and I were college classmates. Back then, he was the golden boy—his smile was bright and dazzling, like sunshine reflecting off the ocean. He had countless admirers, but he treated everyone with a cold, polite distance. Except for one night at a party, when his eyes met mine, and he smiled. Because of that single look, I naively believed I was special to him. I simped for him for six months, doing everything I could to get his attention, before he finally agreed to date me. But right when I was falling head over heels, I accidentally saw his phone lock screen. It was a photo of a girl. She was beautiful, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Ethan, smiling so brightly it hurt my eyes. What caught my attention most was the tiny mole just beneath her left eye. I had the exact same mole in the exact same place. Maybe I was just a substitute for the girl he actually wanted. Maybe that was the only reason I was allowed to be his puppy dog. Even though I had guessed this heartbreaking truth, I never dared to confront him. I was terrified he would break up with me without a single regret. But shortly after we started dating, his first love, Chloe, came back. That day, Ethan and I were playing video games at his apartment. Just as we were having fun, the doorbell rang. “Val, play by yourself for a minute.” Ethan put down his controller, gently ruffled my hair, and went to answer the door. I thought it was just delivery, but after a few minutes, there was no sound from the hallway. I walked over to the foyer to check. My heart stopped when I saw a pair of slender, pale arms wrapped tightly around Ethan’s waist. “Who is she?” I asked softly. Ethan’s back went visibly rigid. The girl stiffened too. Then, her sweet, fragile voice echoed through the hallway. “Ethan, can we talk? Just the two of us?” I finally saw her face clearly. My breath caught, and my mind went blank. Ethan’s calm, detached voice broke the silence. “Val, you should head home first.” My nails dug deep into my palms as I fought to keep my tears from falling. I grabbed my coat and walked past them. While waiting for the elevator, I couldn’t help but look back. Ethan was gently guiding Chloe into his apartment. The door shut with a heavy *thud*, without him throwing a single glance my way. The late autumn wind felt like knives scraping against my skin. Standing outside the building, I could still see the lights shining brightly from Ethan’s living room. Why did she come back? Was Ethan going to break up with me? … I sat on a park bench in the courtyard, staring up at his window, my thoughts spinning out of control. I waited from eight in the evening until midnight. She never came out. Finally, the lights in Ethan’s apartment went out. And with that, my heart died too. I stood up to leave, but just as I turned around, I heard their voices. “Chloe, about what you said… let me think about it.” Under the dim streetlights, Ethan was standing face-to-face with his first love. “Please help me, Ethan. Please,” Chloe pleaded, looking incredibly fragile. The sheer adoration and pity in Ethan’s eyes were practically overflowing. “I’m pregnant,” Chloe said, grabbing his hand. “If I told you the baby was yours, would you believe me?” “Yes.” I didn’t know what that single word meant for them. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that I meant nothing to him. *Ha.* I laughed bitterly at myself in the dark. In the freezing night, I walked away quietly. The beautiful dream I had so carefully tried to protect was completely shattered by the wind. 0

After that night, I actively avoided Ethan. He tried to contact me multiple times, but I didn’t have the courage to face him. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was just terrified that the next time we spoke, he would say the words *’Let’s break up.’* But our campus wasn’t that big. We eventually ran into each other. “Val, wait! Listen to me,” Ethan called out, chasing after me. I admit, I was a coward. I only knew how to run away from reality. “We can talk later. I’m really busy right now.” I quickened my pace, terrified of hearing him end things. “Val, stop for a second!” I kept walking. “Valerie!” He caught up to me and grabbed my wrist, forcing me to stop. “I need you.” He needed… me? What did that mean? His eyes were shining with an intensity I had never seen when we were alone together. “That girl from the other night, Chloe… you know who she is, right?” I nodded slowly. “She’s pregnant.” I was shocked by how easily he admitted it. “Whether the baby is mine or not, I want to help her.” So, he wasn’t trying to break up with me? “How do you want to help?” My heart rate slowed down slightly. “She’s staying at my place for now. But I don’t know how to take care of a pregnant woman on my own. Can you help me, please?” Seeing Ethan beg so humbly made my stomach turn. In our relationship, he had always been the one on the pedestal. I was always the one trying to please him, making all the compromises. I never imagined the first time he lowered his head to me would be for the sake of his first love. A sudden surge of anger boiled up inside me. “Ethan, what do you take me for?!” I screamed at him. Passersby turned to stare. Ethan looked stunned. Ever since we started dating, I had never raised my voice at him. I had never even frowned. Every time I was upset, I swallowed my pride and let it go. But this time, it was too much. “Are you really not going to help?” His brows furrowed, and he immediately started looking for other options. My feelings didn’t register with him at all. To him, only Chloe mattered. “Fine. Forget it.” With that, Ethan turned and walked away. Just like he had shut that apartment door, he didn’t hesitate for a second. 0

After I rejected him, he stopped reaching out. He didn’t ask to get back to normal, nor did he officially end things. My anxiety only grew. Was he really at home, playing house and taking care of his pregnant ex? One evening, I bought some groceries and went to his apartment. When I rang the bell, Chloe opened the door. She was wearing Ethan’s oversized hoodie, her belly showing a tiny bump. She paused when she saw me, then smiled warmly, welcoming me in like she owned the place. “Ethan, Val is here!” Chloe called out. I stood there, feeling like a complete stranger in my boyfriend’s home. Ethan walked out of the bedroom. “What are you doing here?” His tone was sharp and annoyed, as if I were an intruder disrupting their peace. “Can we talk? Just us?” At the end of the day, I still didn’t want to lose him. Ethan glanced at Chloe. “Just say it here.” He didn’t care about keeping secrets from Chloe. To him, she was more important than anyone. “Fine,” I said, turning to Chloe. “I’ll help you take care of her.” Only then did the tension in Ethan’s face soften. Chloe played innocent, murmuring, “Oh… Ethan didn’t tell me about this. I’d feel so bad putting you out, Val.” “It’s no trouble,” Ethan said, looking at Chloe. “Val is great at taking care of people. She’ll do a better job than me.” *Ha. Of course.* Even if the baby wasn’t his, he cared so much. Even if it meant using his own girlfriend to serve his ex. After that, the three of us lived together. I was the only one who felt the suffocating awkwardness. Ethan and Chloe lived like a happy, newly married couple. Chloe never directly ordered me around. Instead, she would whine to Ethan. “Ethan, I’m craving fruit. Can you ask Val to wash some strawberries for me?” “Ethan, stay and watch TV with me. Val can go grab the groceries by herself!” “Ethan…” I really was just their maid. But one night, Chloe wanted steak, but she complained that her hands were too sore to cut it. I sat there and cut her steak into tiny, bite-sized pieces for her. My eyes and hands were aching by the time I finished. Ethan finally took the plate from me. “Take a break. I’ll do it.” I managed a small smile. He still cared about me. But after a few more instances like this, the cold truth sank in. Ethan didn’t care if I was tired. He was just worried I wouldn’t cut the pieces small enough for Chloe. There was a scale between Chloe and me. And Ethan always, without hesitation, tipped it in her favor. This torturous routine lasted for two weeks before Chloe lost the baby. That afternoon, Ethan had to go out, leaving Chloe and me alone in the apartment. “You know Ethan loves me, right?” The sweet, gentle Chloe was gone. She looked at me with pure disgust. “How can you be so pathetic?” *Pathetic?* Shocked by her sudden transformation, I quickly tapped the screen of my phone in my pocket, quietly starting a voice recording. “What did you say?” “I said you’re pathetic. Are you deaf?” Chloe sneered, stepping closer. “Let me tell you a secret. This baby wasn’t even Ethan’s. But so what? He still dropped everything to serve me!” I stared at her stomach, swallowing the lump of anger in my throat. “I’m leaving.” “Did I say you could leave? Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell Ethan you mistreated me? One call from him, and you’ll come crawling back like the good little dog you are. You were born to serve me.” My chest tightened. She was right. “So what if he took care of you? So what if he loves you? I am his actual girlfriend now.” I grabbed my coat to head for the door. But those words seemed to trigger something in her. She lunged forward to stop me. But she moved too fast, her foot slipping on the slick hardwood floor. With a loud *crack*, she crashed hard onto the ground. She let out a bloodcurdling scream. When I turned around, a pool of crimson was already spreading beneath her.

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The first day after I died, my wife brought her high school golden boy back to our house. They made out in our bedroom, ate the prime ribeye steaks I had bought for her, used my computer, and spent my money online. When he asked, “Where’s your husband?” My wife replied, her voice cold and dismissive, “Always working. He’s on some stupid business trip. I don’t even know where he is.” She had no idea I was dead. I had been rushing back from a business trip, driving through the night to surprise Clara for her birthday. Then came the headlights. The crash. I died instantly. Maybe it was my sheer obsession with seeing Clara one last time that bound my soul to her side. But when I opened my ghostly eyes, I saw her walking through our front door with Julian Ward—the guy she used to obsess over in high school. This was the first time I had ever seen Clara dress so provocatively. Around me, she barely wore makeup unless it was for a corporate dinner. But right now, she looked like a rose in full bloom, sultry and radiant. They were wrapped around each other. Clara leaned gently against his shoulder as they walked into the living room. Her eyes were filled with a tenderness she had never shown me. She helped him onto the sofa, her voice dripping with affection. “Let me make you some lunch, babe. Just rest here. The sofa is super comfortable.” Julian nodded. As Clara reached out to cup his face, he took her hand and kissed her palm. “Thanks, beautiful. Anything you make is heaven to me.” Clara smiled, looking completely drunk on his words. She walked into the kitchen, pulled out the prime ribeyes I had bought for her from the fridge, and seared them on the stove. She even opened my bottle of vintage Cabernet Sauvignon, setting the table beautifully. Together, they enjoyed a perfect, romantic lunch. After sharing the bottle of wine, both of their faces flushed. Their eyes grew hazy with desire. Leaving the steaks half-eaten, Julian pulled Clara onto his lap. He gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Clare, you are the most gorgeous, intoxicating woman in the world. You’re the only one who can make me lose control like this.” Clara melted into his arms, soaking in his flattery, responding to his every touch. The sight broke something inside me. Around me, she was always a cold queen. I never knew she had such a passionate, wild, and tender side. Watching them touch, even though I thought I was emotionally numb, a sharp pain stabbed through my ghostly chest. I remembered how, after Julian’s recent divorce, Clara had repeatedly insisted on “comforting” him. She would go out to drink with him, coming home half-drunk in the middle of the night. We had screamed at each other because of it. “When I graduated college, I had no place to live and no money! Julian was the one who helped me!” she had yelled at me. “Now that his life is falling apart, I can’t just abandon him! I have a conscience!” My hands had been shaking with rage. “And because of that ‘conscience,’ you’ve been staying out with another man until midnight for days? Do you even care about me? Do you care about this marriage?” “Are you even a man, Ethan? Why are you so insecure? There is nothing going on between us. Stop overthinking!” I had lost my mind. “Don’t think I’m stupid just because I’m quiet, Clara! Julian got divorced because he was caught cheating! Now you’re rushing to play his savior? Anyone would think you were the one he cheated with!” “Don’t you dare accuse me of that, Ethan! I have never cheated on you!” I had let out a cold laugh, leaning in close. “I might be a nice guy, Clara, but I’m not an idiot. You want to play nursemaid to another man? Over my dead body.” After that massive fight, I had volunteered for the business trip just to get some space. But I still loved her. I worried about her, and today was her birthday. That was why I had rushed back. I just didn’t expect that it would actually be over my dead body.

I tried to look away from them, but my soul was tethered to her. I was forced to watch every single second of their intimacy. Julian kissed her neck, his hands sliding down her back. Clara didn’t pull away. Instead, she arched into his touch, enjoying it. In my memory, she had never been like this. In our daily life, she was lazy and passive. I was always the one taking care of her. Being forced to watch them play their little games made my heart grow cold, piece by piece. But when Julian tried to pull her shirt off, Clara finally stopped him. “No, Julian. I’m still Ethan’s wife.” Julian frowned. A flash of annoyance crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with a look of deep, tragic devotion. “You are the only woman I’ve ever loved, Clare. For you, I’d give up everything—even my own family. But I don’t want to ruin your life. Loving you but not being able to have you… that is my ultimate torture.” “Oh, Julian… me too. I love you more than anything. Only when I’m with you do I feel alive.” Their sweet talk felt like a blade scraping against my soul. Suddenly, old memories flashed before my eyes. Years ago, Julian had tried to ask Clara’s parents for her hand. But her family despised him because he was broke and had no stable job. They forced them apart and arranged blind dates for Clara instead. During that time, Clara fell into a deep depression. I was the one who stayed by her side, carefully nursing her back to health, giving her all my love and patience. It was during those dark days that Clara became dependent on me. I thought those were our best times. I thought we were each other’s forever. So, I proposed. She said yes. I gave her everything I had. When she wanted to start her own company, I emptied my savings for her. When she needed connections to break into the market, I used my family’s influence to pave the way. Within six months, her business was booming. I thought she would love me more now that our life was perfect. But her success only brought Julian back. After just one meeting with him, Clara grew colder and colder to me. She stopped coming home, using work as an excuse for everything. No matter how much I gave, she didn’t care. Now I finally understood. I was just Julian’s temporary placeholder. Julian was the only one she ever truly wanted.

These memories made my soul ache. I knew it was time to let go. It was time to say goodbye to my pathetic, one-sided love. But when I tried to fly away, I found out I couldn’t leave Clara’s side. If I drifted too far, my soul would start to rip apart in agonizing pain. I tried with all my might, but eventually, I grew too weak. I was dragged back, floating uselessly right next to her. Despair washed over me. I was trapped, forced to watch them play house, enjoying the wealth and comfort I had built for them with my own blood and tears. I had never done anything wrong in my life. I had never hurt anyone. Everything I had was earned through hard work. Why did I have to suffer this emotional torture? Clara stood up to adjust her messy clothes. Julian hugged her from behind, asking softly, “Can we ever be together?” Clara froze, a look of conflict on her face. Then, she let out a heavy sigh. “No.” Julian’s face fell. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I know. You hate me because I didn’t fight for you back then. But Clare, your family demanded things I could never afford in a lifetime. I was so insecure.” Clara spun around and hugged him tight. “Don’t say that. I will make you rich, Julian. But I can’t divorce Ethan. Everything I have today is because of him. I don’t love him, but I owe him.” Julian kissed her lips, gently stroking her hair. “I understand. I know I’m the one you really love. I can wait. No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait for you. Even if I have to watch you from the shadows forever, I’m happy as long as you’re safe.” Clara kissed him deeply. When they finally broke apart, she looked at him guiltily. “I’m sorry. Just give me some time, okay?” “Of course. Always.” “The company needs me, and Ethan won’t be back from his trip for a few days. Next time he’s gone, you can come over. I won’t make you wait in vain.” Clara smiled, suddenly looking like a playful, teasing schoolgirl. She began to dress in front of him, throwing him seductive glances. Watching them laugh, I laughed at myself too. She was already planning to find a way to divorce me. She couldn’t even bear to make him wait. I had been so blind, so incredibly stupid.

Later that afternoon, Clara was at her office. She was supposedly reviewing documents, but she was completely distracted. Every ten minutes, she would check her phone. She had probably just left Julian, but she was already missing him too much to focus on work. It was almost 6:00 PM by the time she wrapped up her sluggish day. She picked up her phone for the hundredth time, then slammed it down in frustration. I knew that habit. She was anxious. She was waiting for a text from Julian. But Julian hadn’t texted her all afternoon, which was making her lose her mind. Suddenly, she grabbed her phone angrily and opened a chat. Out of curiosity, I floated closer to look. To my shock, she hadn’t opened Julian’s chat. She had opened mine on Snapchat. There was a message I had sent her this morning before the crash: *“Clare, today is your birthday! Guess what surprise I have waiting for you!”* Seeing that message made me feel physically sick. I hated how foolish I had been. That text felt like a giant joke mocking my own corpse. Clara stared at it for a long time, then finally typed back: *“It’s almost 7:00 PM.”* I understood what she meant. She was reminding me that her birthday was almost over. Ever since we met, I had always planned her birthdays meticulously. I would start preparing half a month in advance, giving her all the romance and pampering a girl could dream of. Every year was different, grand, and beautiful. I wanted her to feel proud in front of her friends and family when I wished her a happy birthday. But today, there would be no wishes. She would never hear my voice again. Because I was dead. Clara stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of her office, watching the traffic below. The city was bustling, full of life. But Clara’s anxiety was only growing. The clock was ticking, and my phone remained silent. Maybe she was hungry. She opened the office freezer. Inside were frozen meals I had prepped for her—handmade dumplings, pasta, and some frozen lobster ravioli. She chose the ravioli and boiled them. But when she took the first bite, she suddenly froze.

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On the day the university announced the finalists for the Direct Master’s Program with a full fellowship, a screenshot suddenly popped up on the university’s main Discord server, which had over ten thousand members. A bright red box was circled around my name. Chloe Smith. Ranked #1 overall. Candidate ID: 08. Immediately after, Austin, the school’s golden boy, sent a message: “Ah, candidate 08. She’s a masseuse at that sketchy parlor downtown. I’ve ordered her services before. Pretty good, I must say.” It stayed up for less than ten seconds before he deleted it. The chat, which had just been flooded with “Congrats, Chloe!” instantly went dead silent. In my past life, my brain buzzed, and I naively thought no one would believe such a disgusting, low-life rumor. But within two days, the university’s anonymous app, Fizz, was flooded with posts. Scurrilous photos of me allegedly providing “special services” at a massage parlor were everywhere. Some said I got my master’s slot by sleeping with my advisor. Some even claimed I had an STD. When my dad heard the rumors, he suffered a massive heart attack on the spot. He never woke up. Later, my admission was revoked. I was relentlessly cyberbullied. Within a single month, my depression spiraled. I swallowed a handful of pills and ended my life. Before I lost consciousness, my phone was still buzzing with notifications. “Has No. 08 dropped out yet? Don’t let her contaminate academia.” But now, I opened my eyes again. I was reborn. I stared at the Discord chat on my phone screen. This time, I immediately took a screenshot of the entire rumor-starting process. Then, I replied to Austin directly in the server: “Austin, you claimed you hired me for services.” “Please provide the evidence: the time, the location, the specific services, the transaction history, payment receipts, and security camera footage.” “If you can’t, I am calling the police.” 0

After my message was sent, the server fell into a dead silence. Thirty seconds later, Austin finally popped up. “Chloe, don’t take it so seriously. I was just joking.” I stared at his words and let out a cold laugh. My fingers didn’t stop typing. “You call slut-shaming a joke?” “I will submit this ‘joke’ of yours directly to the Dean’s office and the police.” Austin replied quickly, “Is it really that serious?” “I already deleted it, and you still took screenshots? Are you just feeling guilty?” Immediately, some of his friends chimed in. “Honestly, reacting this dramatically is kind of sus.” “Austin was just joking around. If you’ve got nothing to hide, why not just laugh it off?” “Isn’t she on financial aid? But that dress she wore to the thesis presentation last week wasn’t cheap.” “She’s pretty. You know how it is. We all know how she gets her money.” Those words were like mosquitoes. In my previous life, they buzzed around me, sucking every last drop of my blood. In this life, I kept taking screenshots. I didn’t miss a single one. The very people who used to beg me for my study notes, leech off my research, and ask me to format their papers had completely changed their faces. “Chloe, we know your grades are good. But making a scene like this ruins the reputation of the whole department.” “The admission list is still in the public objection period. It’s normal for the public to raise questions.” Someone else commented snidely, “We’ve seen too many ‘underdog success stories.’ Real life is never that clean.” I exported the chat history, uploaded it to a digital forensics app, and secured certified timestamps for all of it. Just as I finished, our academic advisor, Mrs. Davis, finally showed up in the chat. “Everyone, please stop discussing this.” I was about to switch screens to DM her, but her next message popped up. “Chloe, you need to calm down too.” “The objection period is a sensitive time. Questioning people like this in the main server only escalates the conflict.” I typed, “Mrs. Davis, Austin is the one who started the defamation. I request the department step in now and preserve the evidence.” Mrs. Davis replied almost instantly. “Austin already said it was a joke. Do not blow this out of proportion.” “As a young woman, you need to be mindful of your boundaries. You spend a lot of time around male professors and senior classmates. It’s not entirely baseless that people misunderstand you.” As soon as she said that, the chat was flooded with “Mrs. Davis is right.” I sneered. I sent Mrs. Davis a private DM with a screenshot of her own words. “I am formally filing a complaint against Austin for malicious defamation and harassment. Please let me know the official procedures.” She didn’t reply. Three minutes later, she posted in the main server: “Please stop sharing unverified content.” “Chloe, please stop spamming the chat to avoid causing any further negative impact.” I didn’t argue with her anymore. Instead, I messaged Harper, a law student. She was my roommate’s older sister and was currently interning at a top law firm. In my past life, I hadn’t thought of reaching out to her until it was too late. “Harper, someone is spreading sexual rumors about me. I’ve already secured some of the evidence.” She replied within seconds. “Do not try to explain your personal morality. Do not try to prove your innocence.” “Track down the source of the rumors, the chain of distribution, and the resulting damages.” “From now on, treat every single word you say as evidence for a courtroom.” Staring at her message, my hands finally stopped shaking. Okay. Let’s start with the first knife they threw at me, and trace it back. 0

When I returned to my dorm that evening, a sticky note was pasted on my door handle. “Hey, No. 08, you taking clients tonight?” I didn’t touch the paper. I took out my phone and recorded a video first. In my past life, I had torn it off in a rage. Later, Mrs. Davis had said, “Without proof, who’s to say you didn’t paste it there yourself?” This time, I recorded everything clearly. Once inside, I opened my laptop. The campus anonymous app, Fizz, had gone completely wild. “Anonymous post: Heard the girl who ranked first for the master’s program used to work at a sketchy massage parlor. Her ID is literally 08.” “Anonymous post: Why does her advisor always put her on his research projects? There’s got to be something going on between them.” “Anonymous post: Where does a financial aid student get the money for high-end makeup? We need to audit her bank accounts.” The comments below were even more sickening. Someone used AI to paste my face onto explicit escort cards. Someone else spammed the words “academic whore” across the entire screen. My roommate, Mia, bit her lip, looking worried. “I can testify for you.” “You didn’t even go out last night. You were grinding in the lab until 2 AM. I walked back with you.” I looked at her. “Don’t do anything rash yet,” I said. “Send me the log of the lab’s keycard access from last night, and the screenshot of our Uber receipt.” “The original files. Don’t edit them.” She nodded and immediately started searching her phone. At 10:30 PM, my dad called. “Chloe, is the final list out yet? Your aunt said you’re going to grad school. Is it true?” His voice was bursting with joy. My throat tightened. In my past life, he had asked me the exact same thing. Back then, I had sobbed and said, “Dad, I might not be able to go anymore.” There was a long silence on the other end, and finally, he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll drive the truck for a few more years. We don’t owe anyone anything.” But he never got to see me go to grad school. In this life, I forced my voice to remain steady. “Yes, Dad, it’s true. Hey, don’t answer any calls from strange numbers for the next few days, and don’t click on any random links.” “I booked a health checkup for you. Aunt Clara will go with you tomorrow.” He was stunned. “I feel perfectly fine. Why do I need a checkup?” “The school covers family checkups. It’s a waste if we don’t use it.” I lied with absolute calm. After hanging up, I immediately called my Aunt Clara. “Aunt Clara, no matter what, take Dad to the clinic for a checkup tomorrow.” “Keep his heart medication on him. Block all unknown numbers on his phone.” “Also, call the local post office. Tell them to hold any anonymous packages addressed to Dad. Do not deliver them.” Aunt Clara sensed something was wrong. “Chloe, did something happen?” I fell silent for two seconds. “Someone is trying to ruin me.” There was silence on the other end. Then, Aunt Clara said, “Got it. I’ll handle things at home.” The next morning, I went to the department office. Mrs. Davis made me wait outside her office for forty minutes. In the end, it wasn’t her who walked out, but Dean Harrison, the head of graduate admissions. He closed the door and spoke in a cold, bureaucratic tone. “Chloe, the department is aware of your situation.” “There is a lot of public outcry online right now. To be safe, the department suggests you submit a request to temporarily suspend your admission process.” I asked, “Why should I suspend it?” Dean Harrison frowned. “A major controversy has arisen during the objection period. The university has to investigate.” “The controversy is because others are defaming me, not because I committed academic fraud.” Mrs. Davis chimed in from the side, “Don’t be so defensive, Chloe. There is no smoke without fire. Why aren’t they saying these things about other students?” I looked directly at her. “Mrs. Davis, I am recording this conversation.” Her face went pale instantly. Dean Harrison tapped his fingers on the desk. “Chloe, you need to consider the consequences.” “The fellowship is not just about you. If this gets out, it looks bad for the university, the department, and your advisor.” “So, instead of dealing with the bullies, the department wants to deal with me?” No one answered. I stood up and placed my official complaint dossier on the desk. “I will not request a suspension.” “If you dare to unlawfully halt my admission process, I will report this directly to the University Board of Trustees and the State Department of Education simultaneously.” Leaving the office, I messaged Harper. “They’re trying to push me out.” She replied, “Excellent. The administration’s failure to act will now be added to our evidence chain.” 0

At noon, Mia handed me her phone, her hands trembling. “Someone started a poll on Fizz.” The headline was incredibly offensive. Should candidate No. 08’s admission be revoked? There was only one option: Absolutely, yes. In the comment section, someone posted a picture of what they claimed was a “receipt from an escort service.” Client Memo: No. 08 Chloe. Amount: $500. Timestamp: The exact night of my thesis presentation. I zoomed in on the image and stared at it for three seconds. It was a horribly sloppy Photoshop job. The business name didn’t exist. The Venmo QR code was pixelated. The font in the memo line didn’t even match the rest of the receipt. But the online mob didn’t care about the truth. At 2 PM, the post office manager from my dad’s small town called me. “Chloe, an anonymous letter arrived for your dad. I held it back like you asked. How do you want to handle this?” My fingers clenched tightly around my phone. Here it came. The very weapon that had killed my dad in my past life had arrived early. I asked Aunt Clara to go to the post office with her phone and record the entire process of opening it. A few AI-generated explicit photos fell out of the envelope. Along with them was a fake medical report. The diagnosis read: Syphilis Positive. The stamp on the report read “City Central Hospital.” But the city our university was in didn’t even have a hospital by that name. The last piece of paper contained a single sentence: Your daughter is selling her body. Isn’t she disgusting? On the other end of the video call, Aunt Clara was shaking with rage. “These absolute monsters!” I stared at the screen, my eyes burning. In my past life, my dad had seen these very things, suffered a sudden heart attack, and died. I forced myself to stay calm. “Aunt Clara, do not let Dad see this. Take the original documents to the local police station and file a report. Make sure they take clear photos of the shipping label.” “I will file a report here as well, and ask the police to link our cases.” Aunt Clara choked back her tears. “Okay, sweetie.” I immediately forwarded the new evidence to Harper. She replied: “This is enough to send them to federal prison for a while.” In the evening, I went to the science building to retrieve my external hard drive. Just as I walked into the basement parking lot, I heard footsteps behind me. A guy blocked the exit, holding his phone up, pointing the camera right at my face. It was Tyler, one of Austin’s frat brothers from the student council. “Hey, Chloe, can I get a quick interview? How much do you charge per night, anyway?” I took a step back. “Get out of my way.” He laughed. “Stop acting innocent. The whole school knows what kind of girl you are.” “Tell us, how did you really get that fellowship?” I turned on the voice recorder on my phone. “Your current behavior constitutes harassment. This is my first and only warning.” He reached out, trying to grab my arm. “Oh, come on, don’t run away. Everyone wants to know your price.” I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the pin on my personal safety alarm. The deafening siren filled the garage as I aimed my pepper spray and unleashed it right into his face. Tyler screamed in agony, stumbling backward and smashing his nose against a concrete pillar. Blood instantly gushed down his face. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his face, screaming, “Chloe is assaulting me! Help! Help!” The campus security guards and passing students quickly rushed over. Phones were whipped out, lenses pointing at me. I stood there calmly, holding the pepper spray in my hand. “Check the security cameras,” I said clearly. “Right now.” 0

In the campus security office, Tyler was holding a bloody tissue to his nose, wailing loudly enough to wake the dead. Austin arrived shortly after. When he saw me, a smug look of satisfaction flashed in his eyes. “Chloe, even if you’re desperate because your secrets got exposed, you can’t just brutally assault a classmate like this.” I ignored him. After the police arrived, they separated us to take our statements. Tyler insisted he only wanted to say hi to me, and that I had suddenly attacked him without provocation. That was, until the security office pulled up the full, unedited surveillance footage. On the screen, it was clear. He had followed me all the way from the elevator, blocked my exit, pressed his phone against my face, and physically lunged to grab me. I had retreated three times. I had warned him twice. Only then did I use the pepper spray. The police officer’s expression turned cold after watching the video. “This isn’t ‘saying hi.’ This is stalking, intimidation, and sexual harassment.” Tyler’s face drained of color. “I… I was just joking…” Hearing that word again made my stomach churn. Their weapons were always called “jokes.” By the time I walked out of the station after finishing my statement, my phone was blowing up. Austin had moved faster than the police. He had edited the video, cutting out the first two minutes, leaving only the footage of Tyler bleeding on the ground and me holding the pepper spray. His caption read: The “Scholarship Whore” gets mad after being exposed, violently assaults classmate and sends him to the hospital. The anonymous app Fizz, the campus forums, and TikTok were instantly flooded with the video. The comments were brutal. “She’s clearly guilty.” “Revoke her admission immediately!” “She’s on financial aid but can afford premium pepper spray? Where’d that money come from?” They even dragged up my past financial aid records. Some accused me of defrauding the school. Some sent spam emails to my advisor, demanding a thorough investigation into “academic sexual favors.” That night, Mrs. Davis summoned me to the department office. In her office, Dean Harrison looked even angrier than he did in the morning. “Chloe, this situation has escalated beyond the university campus now.” “The department has decided that until the investigation is complete, you are suspended from the lab, and you are barred from attending the upcoming fellowship confirmation ceremony.” I looked up at him. “This is just a passive-way of revoking my admission.” He replied, “Watch your tone. The department is doing this to protect you, and to protect the other students.” “Protect me?” I laughed. “When I was defamed, you told me to shut up.” “When I was harassed, you banned me from the lab.” “And now, when I defend myself, you suspend my admission.” “Dean Harrison, who exactly are you protecting?” Mrs. Davis lowered her voice. “Chloe, don’t be ungrateful. If this gets completely out of hand, no one will be able to save you.” I recorded every single word they said. “I don’t need you to save me,” I said. “I will handle this myself.” On my way back to the dorm, I walked back into the police station and formally submitted a Request to Subpoena Digital Evidence. Once a criminal case for defamation is officially opened, the police have the authority to demand the backend user data from the anonymous app, Fizz. Right before night fell, the detective called me. “The IP address of the user who made those anonymous posts is traced to the university library. The MAC address points to a personal laptop.” “We cross-referenced the hardware serial number. The owner is Austin.” At the same time, the cyber police division recovered the deleted chat history from Austin’s Snapchat cache. I clicked on the screenshot sent by the detective. Austin’s and my other roommate Isabella’s usernames, profile pictures, and timestamps were clear as day. Isabella: “Austin, I’ve hated that bitch for a long time. Why does she get the fellowship?” Austin: “Don’t worry. I have a plan.” Austin: “Isn’t her candidate ID 08? We’ll call her ‘Escort No. 08.’” Austin: “Once a girl is branded with that kind of trash, she can never wash it off.” Austin: “I’ll post it in the main server first, then delete it. The mob will do the rest. I won’t even get my hands dirty.” Isabella was ecstatic: “Yes! If the drama blows up during the objection period, the department won’t dare let her pass! Once her spot is vacated, the runner-up slot will go straight to me!” The next morning, a livestream started on Fizz. The title was: Public Town Hall on the Fellowship Fairness Controversy. Austin didn’t show his face; he used a voice changer to host. But Isabella sat in front of the camera. Her eyes were red, and she looked like a victim who had suffered a great injustice. “I’m not targeting anyone personally,” she sobbed. “I just think academic integrity belongs to everyone who worked hard.” “If a candidate has this much controversy surrounding her, shouldn’t the university be more cautious?” The live chat was scrolling at lightning speed. “Support Isabella!” “Fairness first!” “No. 08, come out and explain yourself!” “Does she even dare?” I clicked “Request to Join Livestream.” Austin probably didn’t expect me to join. He hesitated for a dozen seconds before finally accepting the request. The screen split in two. I was wearing a simple white shirt, sitting in the university’s official hearing room. I was not alone. The university disciplinary board members, campus security directors, the graduate admissions officers, faculty representatives from the law school, and student body representatives were all sitting behind me. This was the public hearing I had secured after submitting an emergency application late last night. The number of viewers in the livestream instantly multiplied.

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During the fifth year of our marriage, I went back to Ethan’s family home with him for the Christmas holidays. That night, blood-curdling screams echoed from Chloe’s bedroom upstairs. Ethan wanted to rush up and help, but I held him back. The next morning, Chloe was dead. After the funeral, Chloe’s husband run me over with his car, leaving me paralyzed. But Ethan refused to press charges. He told me, “If you hadn’t stopped me, Chloe wouldn’t have died.” Once we got home, he hooked up with our live-in housekeeper, leaving me to starve to death in the dusty guest room. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the exact night Ethan wanted to go upstairs and help Chloe. This time, he rushed in, beat the man up, got thrown into jail, and was sued for two million dollars. clinging to the prison bars, he wept and screamed at me, “Why didn’t you stop me?!” “Maya, what the hell is your problem with Chloe? It was bad enough you rolled your eyes at the dinner table, but now you’re blocking the door and won’t let me go check on her? What is wrong with you?” Ethan’s angry voice buzzed in my ears, accompanied by Chloe’s begging and screaming from upstairs. Hearing those all-too-familiar words, my eyes went wide. My hands shook as I tapped my phone screen to wake it up. When I saw the date and time on the screen, tears of pure relief almost spilled over. “Maya! I’m talking to you! Are you even listening?” Ethan was still rambling. Only then did I realize my hand was tightly gripping his wrist, preventing him from leaving the room. Coming back to my senses, I immediately let go of him and stared deep into his eyes. “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.” The moment I released him, Ethan couldn’t wait to fling the door open and sprint toward Chloe’s bedroom upstairs. Very soon, shouting and screaming erupted from above. Ethan’s voice cursing out his brother-in-law, Garrett, was exceptionally loud. Remembering the events of my past life, I let out a cold laugh. I grabbed my coat, slipped it on, took my phone, and walked out of Chloe’s house. The moment I stepped outside, the freezing wind hit my face, and heavy snow was falling. Walking through the fresh snow, I took a long, deep breath. Then came a wave of pure ecstasy. I had actually traveled back in time. I was reborn, back to the night Chloe was still alive. In my past life, before dinner, I had accidentally overheard Chloe and Garrett whispering in the hallway. I knew they were putting on a dramatic show to scam Ethan out of his money. That was why I had stopped Ethan from going upstairs. But I never expected Garrett to go so far. In a fit of rage, he actually beat Chloe to death. From that day on, Ethan treated me like garbage. He blamed Chloe’s death entirely on me. He not only cheated on me with our housekeeper, but he also refused to let the police go after Garrett after Garrett ran me over with his car. Ethan dragged my paralyzed body back home and locked me in the dusty guest room, leaving me to rot. Because of my paralysis, I couldn’t even sit up. He never brought me a single scrap of food, clearly intending to starve me to death. When the hunger became unbearable, I tore pieces of the bedsheets and stuffed them into my mouth, causing my stomach to bleed. Later on, the housekeeper, Hailey, would come in frequently—but only to humiliate me. I would never forget how she dangled a chicken drumstick in front of my face, mocking me as I crawled like a dog on the floor, only to turn around and throw it to her dog. That dog was just as vicious as its owner. It used my paralyzed legs as chew toys. My thighs were covered in bloody holes from its teeth. Because of the filth, my wounds festered and rotted, but no one cared. Eventually, they went on a vacation, leaving me locked in the house to starve to death. Before I died, I stared out the window with pure hatred, swearing that if I ever got a second chance, I would destroy every single one of them.

By some miracle, God gave me that second chance. Maybe because I had starved to death in my previous life, my stomach was currently throbbing with a dull ache, screaming for food. As for how Chloe was going to scam Ethan, I didn’t want to think about it for now. Filling my stomach was my top priority. By the time I calmed down, my Uber had arrived. I got in and told the driver to head straight to a late-night diner. The moment the hot soup touched my tongue, tears rolled down my face. I swallowed my tears along with the food, feeling a deep, aching sorrow. It hadn’t actually been that long, but to me, it felt like a lifetime. I had almost forgotten what real food tasted like. After I finished eating, my phone lit up. The caller ID showed “Husband.” I pressed decline without hesitation and immediately blocked Ethan’s number. There was no point in trying to save a fool destined for hell. This time, I wasn’t going to ruin my own life for him. Didn’t he blame me? Fine. I would let him see the true face of his beloved family. With a full stomach, I took an Uber back to our suburban villa. Ethan and I had started a mid-sized tech company together years ago, and we were quite wealthy. Because of work, we had delayed having children. I was finally ready to start a family this year, but the baby I had hoped for was lost in that horrific car accident. Back then, I screamed at Ethan for being heartless, asking how he could not care about his own child. But he had just wrapped his arm around Hailey’s waist, stroked her belly, and told me he didn’t care about any child of mine. He said he had been looking for a way to get rid of me anyway. Thinking of this, I gently touched my lower abdomen, my expression turning cold. I unlocked the front door of our house, only to be startled by a sharp, aggressive bark. Staring at the familiar dog, the shadow of my past life instantly suffocated me. My eyes turned red with instinctual fear. Seeing me freeze, the housekeeper, Hailey, quickly grabbed the dog’s muzzle and looked at me apologetically. “Mrs. Miller, I’m so sorry! Lucky didn’t mean to…” Once her hand gripped its muzzle, the dog instantly became docile, wagging its tail to please Hailey. This dog lived in my house, ate the food I bought, yet always bared its teeth at me. People say you can tame any dog, but in my experience, some beasts are just born rotten. “Get that dog out of here. It is never allowed inside my house again. And you—you’re fired. Pack your things and leave tomorrow morning. I’ll contact the agency for a replacement.” I composed myself and fired Hailey on the spot. “Mrs. Miller! Please!” she cried, realizing I wasn’t joking. Tears pooled in her eyes, but underneath, I could see her burning resentment. “My grandmother is still in the hospital, and your family is the only one willing to pay me this much. If I did something wrong, just tell me! Please don’t fire me!” “Oh, I know,” I said, offering her a sweet, gentle smile. Just as she was about to sigh in relief, I added, “But what does that have to do with me?” “You’re a housekeeper, but you act like you’re the mistress of this house. You’re lazy and useless. I don’t need someone like you here.” In my past life, because I knew her family was struggling, I turned a blind eye to her laziness. Whenever she upset me, Ethan would defend her, telling me to be more understanding. And how did she repay my kindness? She seduced my husband and tortured me when I was paralyzed. Now that I was back, there was no way in hell I would keep this snake in my house. I was done being nice. This time, I, Maya, would only live for myself. Being soft-hearted to others is just being cruel to yourself.

“Mrs. Miller, I…” Hailey’s face went pale. Tears finally spilled over as she looked anxiously behind me, searching for someone. I chuckled and stepped aside, showing her the empty hallway. Hailey’s body trembled as she spoke defiantly. “Ethan isn’t back yet? He’s the one who hired me. You don’t have the right to fire me on your own.” “Is that so? But I’m the one who signs your paychecks. Do you still think I don’t have the right?” Ignoring her pale face, I pulled out my phone and called the housekeeping agency, explaining the situation. Within minutes, Hailey’s phone rang. “Hailey! What the hell did you do?” her manager’s voice boomed through the receiver. “The client just filed a formal complaint and terminated your contract! Get your ass back to the office, grab your final check, and get lost!” Hailey’s face completely drained of color. “I understand, sir,” she whispered. After hanging up, she glared at me, her eyes filled with self-righteous anger. “Mrs. Miller, you are being horrible! When Ethan finds out, he will never forgive you!” I laughed out loud. It was hilarious how confident she was. She honestly believed Ethan would play the hero and punish me for her. “And who are you to him that he would care about your forgiveness?” I sneered. She seemed to realize something, panicked, and ran out of the villa. “Woof! Woof!” The dog tried to chase after her, but the moment its paws touched the freezing snow outside, it whimpered and shrank back. Even then, it turned around to bare its teeth at me. I scoffed and called estate security to throw the dog out of the gated community. Even though it whined and scratched at the door, I felt absolutely nothing. Its owner was Hailey. What did its life have to do with me? Honestly, if it weren’t against the law to abuse animals, I would have had it put down myself. Once the tension left my body, a wave of exhaustion hit me. I yawned and went upstairs to sleep. The next morning, the doorbell rang violently. I opened the door to find Chloe standing there, her face bruised and swollen, covered in a thin layer of snow. She was shivering uncontrollably. The moment she saw me, she began to scream, “Are you deaf? I’ve been knocking forever! Were you trying to freeze me to death?” I didn’t answer. She scowled, looking at me as if I had committed some unforgivable sin. “Maya, why did you leave Ethan behind and run off by yourself yesterday? Didn’t you know we were in the middle of a fight?” “Yeah, I knew. But Ethan and I were fighting too. Is it not normal for me to leave when I’m angry?” I took a bite of my toast. In the corner of the ceiling, the security camera’s red light blinked silently. “Ethan beat up Garrett. Garrett is demanding two million dollars to drop the charges, otherwise, Ethan is going to prison! Give me the money, now!” Chloe pushed past me, walked into my living room, and started eating the fruit on the counter as if she owned the place. “Chloe, Ethan got into that fight because of you. Instead of helping your own brother, you’re letting your husband lock him up just so you can squeeze two million dollars out of me? Do I look like an idiot to you?”

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On my wedding day, my fiancé abandoned me at the altar to marry my half-sister. That very same day, with my father’s silent approval, my stepmother kicked me out of the house. At my absolute lowest, drenched in the pouring rain, I ran into Christian. It turned out he hadn’t stayed single all these years by choice. He was waiting for me… Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life—my wedding day with Ethan. I sat in front of the vanity mirror in my carefully chosen lace wedding gown. Looking at my reflection, I was filled with absolute excitement for the ceremony. Ethan and I had been together for five years, ever since we were eighteen. Now that we had both graduated from college, we were finally making it official. Everyone always said we were a match made in heaven. My makeup was done, and the ceremony was about to start. Holding up my train, I walked to the entrance of the chapel. I looked at the man standing at the end of the aisle. That was Ethan—the man who was about to become my husband. The minister finished his opening remarks, and his voice echoed through the speakers: “And now, please welcome the bride!” I took a deep breath and was about to step forward when my father, Richard, suddenly blocked my path. I stared at him in confusion. He had explicitly told me he wouldn’t attend my wedding. But Richard ignored me completely. He reached his hand out to someone behind me. I turned around, and my heart stopped. There stood Scarlett, also wearing a white wedding gown! Scarlett took Richard’s arm, followed by two flower girls, and began her walk down the aisle. As she brushed past me, Scarlett threw me a contemptuous look and whispered, “You’re nothing but a pathetic loser.” With that, she stepped onto the red carpet, walking straight toward Ethan. This is ridiculous, I thought. My eyes flew to Ethan, waiting for him to put an end to this circus. But to my horror, Ethan smiled warmly, his eyes locking onto Scarlett as she approached him. It felt like ice water had been poured down my spine. Suddenly, all the red flags I had ignored rushed back into my mind. Ethan constantly making excuses to cancel our dates, the nights he didn’t come home, the smug looks Scarlett always gave me… They had been sleeping together behind my back. I was the only fool kept in the dark. Shortly after my mother passed away, Richard married Victoria, and Scarlett was their child. Ever since Scarlett was born, I had become an invisible ghost in my own home. I thought moving out after the wedding would finally free me. I never expected them to steal my wedding, too. And what hurt the most was that the man I loved for five years had betrayed me without a single shred of hesitation. Richard handed Scarlett’s hand over to Ethan. Ethan looked at Scarlett with deep affection, reciting the exact vows he was supposed to say to me. My head spun. Shock and rage warred inside me, making my knees buckle. I couldn’t watch another second. I turned around and fled the chapel.

With nowhere else to go, I ended up returning to the family estate, still wearing my wedding dress. I locked myself in my room, tears streaming down my face. But once the sadness faded, a burning resentment took over. I would make both Ethan and Scarlett pay for this. Suddenly, my bedroom door clicked open. The maid walked in and looked at me blankly. “Victoria wants you out of here. Pack your things and leave immediately.” Victoria was Scarlett’s mother—my stepmother. I stood up, trembling with disbelief. “Her daughter stole my husband, and now she wants to steal my home? I’m not leaving! I want to see Richard!” But life was about to kick me while I was down. The maid sneered, “Are you seriously still that naive? Your father disowned you hours ago. Now get out before I call security!” Looking at her cold face, I realized she wasn’t lying. Richard had truly abandoned me. Grit my teeth, I grabbed my phone and my wallet, and walked out of the house. As soon as I stepped outside the gates of the estate, the sky opened up. A heavy downpour began. I ran frantically and huddled under the awning of a boutique down the street. I hugged my knees and sobbed. “Damn you, Scarlett… Damn you, Victoria… Damn you, Ethan…” I cried until my voice went hoarse. Suddenly, the rain on my head stopped. I looked up blankly, only to realize it hadn’t stopped raining. Someone was holding a black umbrella over me. A tall, handsome man stood before me. He looked down, his sharp, striking face completely expressionless. “Chloe? What are you doing crouching here?” It took me a few seconds to recognize him. He was my high school classmate, Christian. We hadn’t spoken since graduation, and I knew nothing about his life now. Embarrassed, I clutched the damp fabric of my wedding dress. “My family kicked me out. I have nowhere to go.” Christian didn’t even look surprised. He simply extended his hand to me. I didn’t know where he was taking me, but as if possessed, I reached out and took his hand. He led me gently into the passenger seat of his luxury SUV. To my surprise, Christian drove me straight to his penthouse. “I live alone. There are plenty of guest rooms. You can stay here for now.” Christian showed me to a spacious guest room. I looked down at my ruined wedding dress, feeling incredibly awkward. I didn’t have any change of clothes. “I already had my assistant buy some things. They’re in the closet. Check if they fit.” I opened the closet door. It was packed with brand-new designer clothes, premium skincare products, and high-end makeup. Everything was top-tier and incredibly expensive. Overwhelmed, I turned to look at Christian, hesitating. “You don’t need to be polite with me,” he said softly. With that, he turned and went into his study. I figured he had work to do, so I didn’t bother him. And just like that, I moved into Christian’s penthouse. I planned to stay until I could find a job and rent my own place. A week later, I received an invitation to a post-grad college alumni mixer on Snapchat. I had been cooped up inside for days, so I figured going out would help clear my mind. I decided to go. The moment I stepped into the VIP lounge at the restaurant, the atmosphere shifted. People looked at me with curiosity, amusement, and outright mockery. I instantly knew something was wrong. Then, Scarlett’s voice rang out, dripping with fake sweetness. “Chloe, you’re finally here! I’ve been waiting for you forever.”

I took a deep breath. Thank God I had put on a full face of makeup and dressed up tonight. I straightened my spine and walked over, sitting directly opposite Scarlett. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” The host of the party was Ashley, our former college alumni coordinator. Sitting right next to Scarlett, she smiled nastily. “Well, Chloe, your sister told us you were kicked out of the house. She was worried you were starving on the streets, so she asked me to organize this dinner just so you could get a decent meal.” Ashley’s words felt like a slap in the face. She had exposed my humiliation to everyone in the room. I forced myself to stay calm. The more they wanted to see me crumble, the stronger I had to look. I took a sip of my orange juice and smiled. “Thanks for the concern, guys. But as you can see, I’m doing perfectly fine. Better than ever, actually.” Scarlett let out a cold laugh. “Stop lying, Chloe. Is that dress you’re wearing a cheap knockoff? That’s a limited-edition piece. As far as I know, there’s only one in the world, and it was bought by the prestigious Gray family.” The dress I was wearing was one of the items Christian had bought for me. I hadn’t checked the price tag, but hearing Scarlett’s words, I realized just how expensive it was. I smirked and looked at her. “You’re right. It was bought by the Grays. So, where do you think I got it from?” Scarlett’s sneer deepened. “Are you trying to say Christian Gray gave it to you?” I nodded. “Exactly.” The room went dead silent for three seconds. Then, the entire lounge erupted into hysterical laughter. “Haha! Chloe, you are seriously delusional!” Scarlett laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable! Why would Christian Gray ever associate with someone like you? He’s the billionaire CEO of Gray Enterprises! He is powerful, rich, and untouchable. Why would he give a gift to a pathetic, abandoned bride? Haha…” Ashley chimed in with a vicious smirk. “Exactly. I didn’t know you were this thick-skinned, Chloe. How dare you use Christian’s name to clout-chase? Everyone knows he’s notoriously cold and aloof. No woman has ever managed to get close to him.” I froze. I had been so focused on my studies and my relationship with Ethan over the past few years that I had no idea Christian had become such a powerful, legendary figure in the business world. But seeing their mocking faces, my anger flared. I pulled out my phone. “You don’t believe me? Fine. I’ll call him here right now.” Scarlett thought I was bluffing. She leaned back, amused. “Sure. I’ll wait.” With my heart hammering in my chest, I sent Christian a message on Snapchat. I told him I was at the restaurant and needed him to come over urgently. I sent the location, but there was no reply. As the minutes ticked by, my anxiety grew. I started to regret my impulsiveness. If Christian didn’t show up, I would become the laughingstock of the city. Ten minutes later, the door to the VIP lounge was pushed open. I looked up with hope, only to feel my stomach drop. It was Ethan. All my past love for him had turned into pure hatred. Just looking at his face made me sick. But Ethan didn’t even look at me. He walked straight to Scarlett and wrapped his arms around her. “Babe, I’m here to take you home.” Scarlett smiled triumphantly, her voice turning high and whiny. “Babe, wait a second. Chloe claims she invited Christian Gray here. I’m waiting to see him!” Ethan scoffed loudly. “Christian Gray? Chloe must have lost her mind. Christian is way out of her league. A trashy girl like her? Even a beggar wouldn’t want her!” Being humiliated in public by the man I had loved for five years was the final straw. I grabbed my glass of orange juice and splashed it straight into Ethan and Scarlett’s faces. They were completely caught off guard. Scarlett shrieked like a maniac, and Ethan wiped his face, glaring at me as he roared, “Chloe! You’ve lost your mind!” I felt an rush of pure satisfaction. Just as I reached for another glass, the door opened again. A tall, familiar figure walked in. Christian walked into the room. He ignored everyone else and kept his eyes locked entirely on me. He stopped by my side and spoke in a deep, velvety, and incredibly gentle voice. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m late.” Christian’s sudden appearance left everyone in the room utterly speechless.

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My boyfriend, Julian, told me that once our paper got published in a top-tier journal, we would go public with our relationship. For that promise, I practically lived in the lab day and night. For a whole year, I ran every single experiment, analyzed all the data, and wrote the entire manuscript. I did all the heavy lifting. But when the final draft was submitted, my name was gone. In its place was Chloe, a junior student who had joined our lab just two months ago. “You were just helping out. It wasn’t a substantial contribution,” Julian said, his tone casual, as if he were talking about the weather. At the lab group dinner, he held Chloe’s hand and announced they were dating. Yet he couldn’t even look me in the eye. It turned out that my year of blood, sweat, and tears was nothing more than a bargaining chip for him to win over another girl. Fine. Since you want to play dirty, I’m going to take back everything that belongs to me. Personally. “Sera, I sent the final draft of the paper to your email. Take a look.” Julian stood at the lab door, holding a freshly bought iced Americano. He spoke in a tone so casual it made my blood run cold. I looked up, moving my eyes away from the microscope. “The final draft? We haven’t even finished the last round of data validation. How is it already finalized?” “It’s good enough,” he took a sip of his coffee. “Chloe urgently needs this paper to apply for a conference. We’re out of time.” Chloe Evans. That name had been popping up more and more over the last two months. She was a first-year Master’s student our advisor had recently taken in. She was pretty, soft-spoken, and always wore a sickeningly sweet perfume whenever she came to the lab. “She’s submitting it to a conference? I did the core experiments for this paper. I built the entire data model.” I stood up, staring at him. “What exactly did Chloe do?” Julian’s face tightened with impatience. “Sera, you need to look at the bigger picture. Chloe just joined the lab and needs some achievements to get her foot in the door. You’re already in your final year. You don’t need this paper as much as she does.” “Why wouldn’t I need it? From the research design to the experiments, from data collection to model validation—I spent an entire year on this. Tell me, what right does she have to put her name on it?” He didn’t answer. He just set his coffee on my desk, turned around, and walked out. I stood there, my hands gripping my lab notebook so hard my knuckles turned white. That night, I opened my laptop and checked my email. There it was. The final draft. On the very first page, in the author section: My name was completely gone from the main authors. First Author: Chloe Evans. Second Author: Julian Carter. My name only appeared at the very end, in the acknowledgments section, in tiny font: With assistance from Sera Miller for data collection. “Assistance.” I stared at the word for a long, long time. A year ago, Julian came to me saying he wanted to do a cutting-edge, interdisciplinary project. He said if we pulled it off, we could get published in a top-tier journal. He said we would co-author it together. He said once it got published, we would finally tell everyone we were dating. And like a fool, I believed him. I buried myself in the lab for a year, spending every single weekend running simulations. Meanwhile, his only job was writing the literature review and adjusting the formatting. I did all the actual work. And now, the results were out, and I was reduced to mere “assistance.” My phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat message from Julian. “Sera, Chloe is confused about some data. Can you help her look over it tomorrow?” I locked my screen and didn’t reply. Outside the window, the night was as black as ink. The next morning, when I walked into the lab, Chloe was already sitting at my desk. She was wearing a pastel yellow dress, her long hair draped over her shoulders, chewing on her pen while staring at my monitor. Seeing me walk in, she immediately flashed a sweet, innocent smile. “Sera! You’re finally here!” “You’re in my seat,” I said, standing right in front of her.

She blinked, startled, then stood up with an apologetic, embarrassed smile. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought you weren’t coming in this morning. Julian told me you were busy writing your Master’s thesis and wouldn’t be in the lab much.” “Julian told you that?” “Yeah,” she tilted her head. “Sera, could you help me look at this data model? I’ve adjusted the parameters so many times, but the fitting curve is still totally off.” I looked at her. Her eyes were clear, her expression incredibly sincere. She looked exactly like an innocent junior student asking a senior for help. But then, my eyes fell on her finger. She was wearing a ring. It was silver, delicate, and very elegant. I recognized that ring. For Julian’s birthday last year, I spent half my monthly allowance to buy us a pair of matching couple’s rings. At the time, he said it was too childish and refused to wear his. I told him I’d wear mine anyway, and he just shrugged and said, “Whatever.” Later, I ended up losing mine somewhere. And now, that exact same ring was on Chloe’s finger. “That’s a nice ring,” I said quietly. She looked down at her hand, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Julian gave it to me,” she whispered. “He said he just bought it on a whim. I don’t even know if he was serious…” On a whim. The ring I bought with my own hard-earned money was given to another girl. “I’ll look at the data model this afternoon,” I said, turning to my locker to grab my lab notebook. “Thank you so much!” her voice piped up behind me, sweet as honey. I didn’t look back. At noon, I was eating lunch at the campus cafeteria. Julian slid into the seat across from me, placing his tray down. “Sera, don’t overthink the paper thing.” He cut into his steak. “Chloe really needs this publication. Her family isn’t doing well financially, and she needs this to secure a spot in the fast-track PhD program. She can’t do it without a paper.” “So my hard work should just be handed over to her?” “It’s not handing it over, it’s resource sharing!” He looked at me, his tone condescending, like he was lecturing a stubborn child. “You’re the senior student here. What’s wrong with helping out a junior? Besides, your name is still on it. Even if you’re not the first author, having your name in the acknowledgments is still good.” I set my fork down with a sharp clink. “Julian, eighty percent of the work on this paper—from the initial idea to the experiments and the actual writing—was done by me. You didn’t even do enough to deserve first authorship, yet you kicked me off completely and gave it to her. Do you honestly think that’s fair?” His face shifted, turning impatient and slightly guilty. “Sera, can you stop being so aggressive? Our advisor, Higgins, approved the author list. He thinks it’s fine.” “Higgins approved this?” “Yes,” he avoided my eyes. “I discussed it with him. He feels that as a newcomer, Chloe needs a heavy-weight paper to build her profile. You’re graduating soon anyway, you don’t need this one.” I stared at him. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. “Fine,” I said, standing up. “Since Higgins agreed to this, I’ll go talk to him myself.” “Hey!” He reached out to stop me, his voice rising. “Stop throwing a tantrum, okay? You’re making things awkward for everyone.” “Awkward?” I looked down at him. “Julian, you stole my research to please another girl, and now you’re telling me I’m throwing a tantrum?”

A few students at nearby tables turned to look at us. Julian’s face flushed red. He lowered his voice, hissed, “Can you keep it down? Can we not talk about this in public?” “There’s nothing to discuss in private,” I grabbed my tray. “I’m going to see Higgins.” I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard his chair scrape against the floor, but he didn’t chase after me. At 2:00 PM, I knocked on Arthur Higgins’s office door. “Come in.” Higgins was sitting behind his desk, a stack of papers spread out in front of him. He was in his late fifties, with graying hair and reading glasses. He always tried to project the image of a warm, academic father figure. “Higgins, I want to talk to you about the authorship on the new paper.” He took off his glasses and looked at me. “Are you talking about the interdisciplinary materials paper?” “Yes.” “Julian mentioned your concerns to me,” he leaned back in his chair. “What’s on your mind, Sera?” “Higgins, I did eighty percent of the work on this project, from the research design to the data analysis. I believe my contribution should be fairly represented on the author list.” The office went silent for a moment. “Sera, I am well aware of your hard work,” he said slowly. “But you have to understand that academia isn’t just about who did the physical work. It’s also about strategic resource allocation. Chloe needs this paper to get into the PhD program. You’re already in your final year of your Master’s; you have your thesis. You don’t need to fight over this.” I froze. “Higgins, are you saying that even though I did the work, I shouldn’t be credited for it?” “That’s not what I said,” he waved his hand dismissively. “You are credited, but having Chloe as the first author is strategically better for the lab. Whether you are second or third author doesn’t affect your graduation.” “But that is my work.” “Sera.” His tone turned cold and stern. “You need to learn to be a team player. You need to align with the lab’s goals.” The team. It was always “the team.” I squeezed my lab notebook tightly. “Higgins, I understand teamwork. But authorship is a matter of academic integrity. I did eighty percent of the work. I will not accept being demoted to ‘assistance.’” Higgins’s expression darkened. “Sera, are you questioning my judgment?” “I am stating facts.” He stared at me for a few tense seconds, then picked up his mug and took a slow sip of coffee. “The author list stays as it is,” he said, his voice calm but absolutely non-negotiable. “If you’re unhappy with it, you are welcome to file an appeal with the university’s academic board. But let me remind you—the outcome of an appeal might not be what you want.” I understood his implication loud and clear. He was threatening me. If I made a scene, he would make sure my graduation was living hell. “I understand,” I said, turning toward the door. “Sera,” he called out behind me. I stopped but didn’t turn around. “You’re a smart girl. Don’t ruin your future over something so trivial.” I didn’t say a word. I opened the door and walked out.

On my way back, a Snapchat message from Julian popped up. “Higgins told me what happened. Sera, stop making a scene. Chloe is still waiting for you to help her with the data.” Looking at the message, I let out a bitter, dry laugh. He stole my research, stripped my name off my own paper, and still expected me to help his new girl fix her errors. I locked my phone and shoved it into my pocket. That night, alone in my rented apartment, I opened my laptop. There was a new email in my inbox. It was from Chloe. “Sera, I tried adjusting the data model the way you suggested, but it’s still not working. Could you please take a look? I’ve attached the files. Thank you!” I opened the attachment. She had changed the parameters of my model, completely ruining the fitting results. But the real issue wasn’t the parameters—it was that she didn’t understand the core logic of the model at all. It took me three months to build this model, from the mathematical derivation to writing the code. Julian didn’t understand it, and Chloe understood it even less. They only knew how to copy and paste it, but they had no idea how it actually worked. I stared at the lines of code on my screen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then, I closed the file. I didn’t reply. At 11:00 PM, Julian called. “Sera, Chloe said she emailed you but you haven’t replied. What’s going on?” “I’m busy.” “Busy with what?” “My Master’s thesis.” There was a brief silence on the other end. “Sera, I know you’re upset. But the paper is a done deal. Throwing a fit won’t change anything. Chloe really needs help. Just help her out, and we can keep things professional and pleasant.” “Pleasant?” “Yeah,” his tone was dead serious. “You help her this time, and I’ll make sure to help you out with lab stuff in the future.” “Help me with what?” “With your graduation,” he chuckled. “Aren’t you still working on your thesis? I can help you review your framework.” I gripped my phone so hard my nails dug into my palm. He was using my own stolen research to buy favor with another girl, and then turned around to offer me crumbs of “help.” “No thanks,” I said coldly. “I can write my own thesis.” “Sera, you—” Before he could finish, I hung up. I threw my phone onto the bed, sat at my desk, and stared out into the dark night. Three years. I had been working with Julian since my first year of grad school. I believed everything he said. I did everything he asked. He told me we’d go public once the paper was published, so I waited. I waited for a year, only to have my name erased, and to see the ring I bought on another girl’s finger. My phone buzzed again. It was a notification from the lab’s Slack channel. Higgins had posted an announcement: “Lab group dinner next Saturday. Everyone is expected to attend. Location TBD.” A string of “Got it” replies followed. Julian replied: “Received. Chloe and I will be there on time.” Chloe and I. The way he paired their names together felt like a soft-launch announcement. Chloe replied right after: “Received! Can’t wait to see everyone!” followed by a smiley face emoji. I watched the chat roll up, message by message. Someone asked: “Julian, is there something going on between you and Chloe?” Julian replied with a winking emoji. Then Chloe posted a blushing face. The chat went wild. “OMG! Are you guys together?” “Congrats, Julian!” “Chloe is so lucky!” I locked my screen, turned the phone face down on the desk, and took a deep breath. On Saturday evening, I put on a sleek black dress and did my makeup. The girl in the mirror looked calm, but her eyes were cold as ice. Before leaving, I opened my drawer and dug out the matching silver ring I had lost and eventually found. It was identical to the one Julian gave Chloe. I looked at it for a few seconds, then slid it onto my ring finger. I wasn’t wearing it for him. I was wearing it for myself. I bought this ring. I paid for it. I chose the design. I could wear it whenever I wanted, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Julian.

The dinner was held at an upscale restaurant near campus. The private dining room was large, easily seating over twenty people. By the time I arrived, almost everyone was already there. Julian was sitting next to Higgins, and Chloe was glued to his side. She was wearing a white lace top, her hair in a delicate braid, looking pure and radiant. The room fell silent for a fraction of a second when I pushed the door open. All eyes turned to me. Julian’s eyes flickered with a trace of unease when he saw me. Chloe smiled warmly at me. “Sera! You’re here! Come, sit!” She pointed to the empty seat directly across from Julian. I walked over and sat down. Next to me was Leo Brooks, a second-year student who had always been on good terms with me. He lowered his voice and whispered, “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” “I heard about the paper…” he hesitated, looking sympathetic. “That’s messed up.” “Let’s just eat,” I said, picking up my fork. As the food was served, the atmosphere warmed up. Higgins stood up, raising his wine glass. “Two announcements tonight. First, let’s welcome our newest member, Chloe Evans. Even though she’s only been with us for two months, she’s incredibly hardworking and has made rapid progress. Let’s support her.” Applause filled the room. Chloe stood up, blushed, and bowed. “Second,” Higgins smiled at Julian. “Julian and Chloe have recently made things official. As their advisor, I’m thrilled to see love blossom in our lab. Let’s congratulate them!” The applause grew louder. Someone yelled, “Julian, aren’t you going to do something special?” Julian stood up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a silver ring. It was delicate. It was thin. It was the exact replica of the one on my finger. He slid the ring onto Chloe’s finger, took her hand, and addressed the room: “Thank you, everyone. Chloe is an amazing girl, and I promise to cherish her.” Chloe’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, everyone. Thank you, Higgins… and thank you, Julian.” Her eyes swept across the room, lingering on me for a second before shifting away. Julian didn’t look at me once. Not even a glance. Under the table, my thumb gently traced the silver band on my own ring finger. He didn’t dare look at me because he knew exactly where that ring came from. For his birthday last year, I spent half my food budget to buy those matching rings. He dismissed them as childish, asking, “What’s the point of these cheap things?” Apparently, they had a point now. Because the girl receiving it was Chloe. Beside me, Leo muttered under his breath, “Wait, why does that ring look so familiar…” I said nothing, quietly savoring my appetizer. Halfway through the dinner, Chloe walked over to my side of the table, holding a glass of wine. “Sera, let me toast to you.” I looked up and raised my glass. “Thank you so much for helping me with the data and the model lately. You’ve been so good to me,” she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Can I still come to you if I run into any more trouble in the future?” “Sure,” I said. She smiled and downed her wine. I did the same. As she turned to leave, her eyes suddenly locked onto my hand resting on the table. “Oh, your ring is so pretty!” I raised my hand, letting the light catch the silver band so she could see it clearly. “Really? It looks quite similar to yours.” Her face froze for a fraction of a second before her sweet smile returned. “It does look similar. But mine was a gift from Julian, so the meaning is completely different.” “Mine was a gift from someone too,” I replied calmly. “Given to me last year.” The smile on her face completely vanished. Julian, who was clearly listening from across the table, stood up and marched over. “Chloe, go back and sit down. Your food is getting cold.” “Okay,” Chloe said softly. She took a couple of steps back, giving me one last suspicious look before walking away. Julian stood right in front of me, barely hiding his fury. “Sera, what the hell are you doing? Why did you wear that ring today?”

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On my birthday, I made a wish. I wished that Ethan and I could finally have a real date, just the two of us. The next second, the cake was flipped onto the floor. The unlit candles were crushed into the creamy mess. My best friend, Chloe, wiped her tears and asked in a shaking voice if I hated her for ruining my night. Ethan gently stroked her hair, looking at her with pure heartbreak before glaring at me. “You know Chloe just went through a bad breakup, Hazel. Why did you have to bring up a private date right now?” “She’s going through so much. Can’t you just yield to her for once?” I stared blankly at the ruined cake on the floor. It was the cake I had stood in line for three hours to buy. Ever since Chloe broke up with her boyfriend a year ago, my romantic dinners with Ethan had turned into group hangouts. Our custom promise rings had turned into a set of three “friendship rings.” Even our wedding, which was supposed to happen a year ago, had been put on hold because Ethan was afraid the wedding atmosphere would trigger Chloe’s depression. For Chloe’s sake, I had stepped back again and again. But Ethan always thought it wasn’t enough. He acted as if I should hand her the entire world. As my tears dripped onto the ruined cake, I finally made up my mind. I would let Chloe have this wish. I would give Ethan to her. As for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t waste another second of it on them.

As I stood up to leave, Ethan scoffed. “Are you throwing another tantrum, Hazel?” “Making such a big deal over a stupid birthday wish.” I didn’t answer him. I just scooped up a bit of stray frosting from my fingertip and put it in my mouth. It was sweet. The pastry chef at that bakery had trained in France, and their desserts were famous. I had waited in line for three hours for this cake. During those three hours, Chloe had grown impatient. She had clung to Ethan’s arm, whining that her heels hurt and asking him to massage her feet. “Ethan, if it weren’t to celebrate Hazel’s birthday, I would never put myself through this!” Ethan had looked at her with pure adoration, thanking her endlessly for being there. Then, without even looking back at me, he said, “Just stay in line, Hazel. I’m taking Chloe to the arcade nearby.” My voice had caught in my throat, but I didn’t stop them. When I finally got the cake after three hours, I excitedly brought it over to share. But Ethan only glanced at it and frowned. “Don’t you know Chloe hates this flavor?” “You only think about yourself, don’t you?” The smile froze on my face. I felt incredibly humiliated. It wasn’t until I promised to buy Chloe another cake later that they finally smiled again. And now, my actual birthday wish had caused Ethan to slam the cake onto the ground. He looked at me impatiently, giving orders like a boss. “That wish is impossible anyway.” “Apologize to Chloe. We’ll go buy you another cake and you can make a different wish.” I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. “I won’t apologize.” I didn’t think wanting a private date with my own boyfriend was a crime. Seeing me shake my head, Ethan’s face darkened. Chloe tugged at Ethan’s sleeve. “Forget it, Ethan. It’s all my fault.” “I rely on you guys too much. I’m the reason you don’t have any alone time.” Ethan gently wiped her tears, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Your toxic ex really messed you up. Don’t blame yourself, Chloe.” Then, he turned to me, his voice dripping with disappointment. “Hazel, can’t you have some empathy for your best friend?” But I had already given her all my empathy. When Chloe said she had bipolar disorder and couldn’t bear to be alone after her breakup, she started crashing our dates. Our romantic candlelit dinners became three-person hangouts. At those dinners, the two of them would laugh and talk endlessly about their college days, leaving me sitting there like a ghost. On our anniversary, when Ethan was about to put a promise ring on my finger, Chloe’s eyes welled with tears as she talked about how she used to have a ring too. So, Ethan ordered an identical ring for her, calling it a “symbol of their friendship.” I had tolerated Chloe for so long. But today, the one time I asked for a date with just the two of us, Chloe cried, and Ethan lost his temper. It was as if I had committed a mortal sin. But I was the one who was Ethan’s girlfriend. The years of suppressed pain and humiliation finally overflowed, tears streaming down my cheeks. I choked out, “Ethan, do you even remember what you promised me on this exact day last year?” One year ago, on my birthday. Ethan had gone down on one knee and promised we would be married soon. Hearing this, Ethan looked startled. His first instinct was to shift his body, shielding Chloe behind him. After a long pause, his mouth opened and closed, but only a few words came out. “Just… wait a little longer.” I let out a bitter laugh as hot tears ran down my face. I wasn’t going to wait anymore. My grandmother, Rose, was really sick, and her only wish was to see me walk down the aisle and settle down. I had promised her I would get married this year. Since Chloe couldn’t survive without crashing our dates, then I would be the one to leave.

I went back to our apartment alone. My phone buzzed. Chloe had posted on her Snapchat story. In the photo, Ethan was cutting a cake, and Chloe was wearing a paper crown, flashing a peace sign at the camera. The caption read: The happiest birthday girl today! Dozens of our mutual friends were commenting “Happy Birthday!” underneath. Chloe replied to every single one of them with a “thank you.” She didn’t mention a single word about whose birthday it actually was. Feeling sick to my stomach, I locked my phone and started packing my bags. My grandmother was sick, and I had already planned to go back to my hometown to take care of her for a while. Only now, my temporary trip had become a permanent departure. When Ethan walked through the door, he had a smile on his face, but it vanished the moment he saw me. He handed me a box. “I bought you another cake.” “No one else is here this time. You can wish for whatever you want.” It sounded sweet, but through the transparent box, I could see the cake inside was a complete mess. It was the leftover cake from Chloe’s Snapchat story, with melting whipped cream sloppily scraped together on a plate. And it was orange-flavored. I couldn’t even force a fake smile. I looked up at Ethan. “I’m severely allergic to oranges.” The last time I accidentally ate an orange, my body broke out in hives, and I passed out. Ethan had been woken up by my burning skin, and he had carried me to the ER in his arms, sobbing the entire night. Back then, his eyes were bloodshot with worry. But now, he could remember that Chloe disliked a certain flavor, yet he forgot that oranges could literally kill me. Ethan rubbed his ear awkwardly, raising his voice to hide his embarrassment. “Then just don’t eat it. Why do you have to be so difficult on your birthday?” “Why can’t you have a sweet temper like Chloe?” I had nothing left to say. I turned back to my packing. Chloe had a “sweet temper” because everyone catered to her. Whenever she didn’t like something, someone else would fix it for her. First it was her parents, then it was me, and now it was Ethan. Of course she had a sweet temper. Ethan finally noticed my suitcases lined up by the door. He frowned. “Are you going to see your grandmother now? Is she really that sick?” For a second, my heart softened. I didn’t expect him to remember me mentioning her illness. “The doctor said…” Before I could finish, Ethan cut me off impatiently. “Perfect timing. Chloe’s toxic ex-boyfriend found her place again, and she’s looking for a new apartment.” “Make sure you clear out your room completely so she can move in here for a while.” My heart instantly plummeted into a freezing abyss. Looking at Ethan’s deadpan, serious face, I swallowed my tears. “Whatever you want.” I was leaving anyway. Even if Chloe lived here for the rest of her life, it had nothing to do with me anymore. Ethan looked up in surprise, a rare flash of confusion on his face. “Hazel, since when did you become so generous?” I blinked slowly. “My opinion doesn’t matter anyway. It’s easier to just go along with what you want.” Ethan’s face went sour. He let out a cold scoff and ignored me, pulling out his phone. From the corner of my eye, I saw him texting Chloe. Chloe sent a message: Thanks for the huge cake, boss! followed by a cute, pouting bitmoji. Ethan sent back a blowing-kiss emoji. If I didn’t know they were my boyfriend and my best friend, I would have assumed they were a couple. I let out a sudden laugh. Ethan heard it and immediately locked his screen. “When I have time, I’ll come visit you and your grandmother,” he said softly, as if he hadn’t just been flirting with my best friend. I nodded. “Okay.” I acted as if I didn’t know that “when I have time” meant “never.”

The day before I was set to leave, I received an unexpected message. It was from the bridal boutique. The assistant told me that the custom wedding dress I had fallen in love with six months ago had finally arrived. My fingers hovered over the screen. My mind drifted back to six months ago. After Ethan promised to marry me, I had been so excited. I spent every night planning—the venue, the flowers, the dress… But Ethan’s patience had slowly worn thin. Once, when I tried to hold up a tuxedo sketch next to him, he had shoved me away impatiently. “Chloe just lost her relationship, Hazel! She’s incredibly fragile right now. Planning a wedding in front of her is just rubbing salt in her wounds!” “We can talk about the wedding later!” I had been silenced. I never brought up the wedding again. But I had secretly put down a deposit on that dress. The assistant said it was a highly sought-after designer piece that required months of pre-ordering. I thought by the time the dress arrived, Ethan would finally be ready to marry me. My phone buzzed again with another text from the assistant. “I am so sorry, sweetie. Another lady just saw the dress in our shop and fell in love with it.” “She’s offering to pay extra to rent it for a pre-wedding photoshoot today.” Along with the text, she sent a short video. In the video, a girl was twirling in my dream wedding dress, and a man was watching her with absolute adoration. The man said, “Chloe, you are the most beautiful bride. I am honored to be your groom.” I froze. The girl was my “heartbroken” best friend, Chloe. And the man in the groom’s tuxedo was my boyfriend, Ethan. So, he wasn’t against wearing a wedding suit. He just preferred wearing it with Chloe. Bitterness flooded my chest. I wiped a tear, feeling a sudden surge of cold rebellion. I transferred the remaining balance of the dress to the boutique immediately and texted back: “I do not agree to rent it to her.” “Because she is a homewrecker trying to steal my relationship.” Within seconds, my phone rang. Ethan’s voice boomed through the speaker, furious. “Hazel! How could you be so malicious and slander an innocent girl?” “Apologize to Chloe right now, or I’ll have my lawyer sue you!” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you swear to God she hasn’t crossed the line in our relationship?” Ethan hadn’t realized I was the owner of the dress. He choked for a second before finding his footing again. “Chloe was just sad because she felt like she’d never get married. She just wanted to borrow the dress to take some photos with me as a comforting gesture!” “Hazel Miller, she is your best friend! How could you spread such disgusting rumors about her?” Not a single explanation. Only anger and accusations directed at me. “You’re right. It’s my fault,” I said, feeling a genuine sense of clarity. “I shouldn’t have asked my boyfriend for a private date. I shouldn’t have cared that my boyfriend was taking wedding photos with my best friend.” “And most of all… I shouldn’t have stayed with you.” “Let’s break up, Ethan.” I said every word clearly. It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. It hurt, but the cancer was finally gone. Ethan went silent. The line was so quiet I could hear both of our ragged breathing. Suddenly, Chloe’s voice squealed in the background. “Hazel! Please don’t break up with Ethan! This is all my fault!” “I’ll just end my life! Then you two can be happy!” A loud scream echoed through the phone, followed by the sound of the device crashing to the floor. Ethan was screaming Chloe’s name in pure panic. Then, his voice came back on the line, dripping with venom. “Hazel Miller! If anything happens to Chloe, I will make you pay!” A long time passed before the shop assistant carefully picked up the phone and whispered to me, “Um… the lady just hurt herself…”

The hospital smelled strongly of bleach and rubbing alcohol. My hand trembled as I reached for the handle of the hospital room door, but then I heard whispering from inside. Chloe’s voice sounded completely normal, even playful. “Ethan, your plan was brilliant.” “Now that I’ve ‘triggered’ my illness, Hazel won’t care about the wedding dress photoshoot anymore!” Ethan let out a soft chuckle. “If she weren’t so incredibly petty, I wouldn’t have had to come up with this.” “When she gets here, just pretend you’re unconscious. Let me handle her.” Chloe giggled happily and snuggled into Ethan’s chest. I stood outside the door, my face completely pale. I had seen Chloe during a real manic episode before. The day her toxic ex-boyfriend was banging on her door, she had called me, sobbing in pure terror. I had practically abandoned a major presentation at work and rushed to her place holding a kitchen knife. When I held her in my arms, her hair was a mess, and she was shaking like a leaf, gripping my hands. And now, she was using that traumatic memory to play me. And my boyfriend was the mastermind behind it. All the strength drained from my body, and I collapsed onto the bench in the hallway. My phone screen lit up. It was a FaceTime call from my grandmother, assisted by her nurse. “Hazel, look at me! I can see you…” The sweet old lady smiled, showing her missing teeth. “Don’t worry about my illness. I’m sorry to make you travel all this way to see me.” “Is Ethan coming with you?” Her eyes sparkled with hope. “Am I going to see my sweet granddaughter get married?” My throat tight, I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. The door to the hospital room swung open. Ethan walked out. On the screen, my grandmother recognized him and happily called out his name. Without even looking, Ethan snatched my phone, swiped to end the call, and grabbed my arm, shaking me. “How do you even have the nerve to show your face here?” “If you hadn’t pushed her, would Chloe have hurt herself?!”

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Before my boyfriend died in a tragic car accident, he signed an organ donor agreement. His heart was transplanted into Ethan Vance. I did everything I could to become Ethan’s secret lover, staying by his side. Every night, after he fell asleep, I would press my ear against his chest just to hear that familiar, racing heartbeat. Three years later, his childhood sweetheart came back. But how dare he use *that* heart—the one filled with memories of me—to love someone else! 0 I had been with Ethan for three whole years. Our relationship was an open secret in the office. “Mr. Vance asked me to book a venue and order a custom engagement ring yesterday!” “Lily, is Mr. Vance finally going to propose to you?” I pretended to be calm and waved them off, but my heart fluttered with secret anticipation. When I went into his office to grab some files, Ethan stopped me. “Anna is coming back to the country tomorrow. I’m going to propose to her.” Anna. Ethan’s childhood sweetheart. I hadn’t heard that name in three years. “Anna?” I murmured. Ethan, usually cold and distant, had a rare, soft glow in his dark, deep eyes when he spoke her name. “Clear my schedule for tomorrow. I’m going to the airport to pick her up.” It was the first time he had ever spoken to me in such a gentle tone, but it was for another woman. I quickly flipped through my tablet. “Mr. Vance, tomorrow morning’s shareholders’ meeting is extremely important…” “Cancel all of them. Did I not make myself clear?” Ethan instantly reverted to his usual cold, aloof self. His expression was blank. He wasn’t negotiating with me; he was commanding me. For the past three years, I thought he was just naturally cold and distant to everyone. But it turned out there was someone who could easily shake his soul. How far would he go for Anna? And what did I even mean to him? “I can arrange a private car to pick up Miss Sinclair. Tomorrow’s meeting is the result of six months of hard work by the business department, and it’s also my—” Before I could finish, Ethan’s cold voice cut me off, laced with suppressed anger. “Lily, you’re crossing the line.” The next day, Ethan didn’t show up at the office. The mess from the canceled meeting left me completely overwhelmed. I had to work overtime until 9 PM before I could finally head home. “Lily, sweetheart, happy birthday! Did you get some cake?” On the other side of the FaceTime call, my parents smiled warmly at me. I nodded, but a wave of bitter sadness washed over me. “What’s wrong? Did someone treat you badly? Your eyes are so red,” my mom asked, worry etching her face. I shook my head, about to say something sweet to comfort them, when loud, aggressive knocks banged against my front door. “Mom, Dad, someone’s at the door. I have to go.” I waved hastily and ended the call. As soon as I opened the door, a tall, heavy figure slumped against me. It was Ethan. He smelled of cold pine and expensive whiskey, a dizzying combination that made my own head spin. “Have you been drinking?” Before I could ask anything else, his face came down. He claimed my lips, capturing my breath with a fierce, commanding force that left no room for resistance. The kiss felt like a punishment, an outlet for his anger. Ethan was always like this. His dominance, madness, and passion only ever showed themselves in the dark, hidden hours of the night. … Late at night, the bedroom was a chaotic mess of discarded clothes. Ethan’s breathing was slow and steady. His long lashes cast soft shadows under his eyes, highlighting his sharp nose and sculpted jawline. Today was my birthday. He had come to me after all. I couldn’t help but reach out, gently tracing the outline of his chest, right where his heart beat. 0

Three years ago, Ethan took me to a high-end charity gala for the first time. I couldn’t drink, and after just a few sips of champagne, I was completely out of it. He personally drove me back to my apartment. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol stripping away my sanity or giving me reckless courage, but I clung to him and seduced him all night. The next morning, when we woke up, he left a black card on the nightstand. He silently got dressed, then politely asked, “Can I come back here again?” As if possessed, I nodded. And just like that, he kept coming back for three years. I leaned closer to his warm chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic *thump-thump* of his heart. It filled me with an unspeakable sense of peace. Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, a soft murmur drifted from above. “Anna, don’t leave me.” … “I’m heading to the office first. You can come in a bit later.” Half-awake, I heard Ethan’s deep, gravelly voice. I blinked open my eyes and saw him already fully dressed. “Let me make you some oatmeal first,” I offered weakly. Ethan quickly adjusted his tie. “No need. Anna is waiting for me at the office. We’re having breakfast together.” With that, he walked out and shut the door behind him. I sat frozen in bed, staring blankly at the door until my phone buzzed with a call from my assistant. Only then did I snap back to reality. When I arrived at the office, the atmosphere was visibly tense. My coworkers, who usually greeted me warmly, were giving me strange, sidelong glances. As I stepped out of the elevator, I could hear whispering behind my back. “Lily.” Just as I reached out to push open the door to the CEO’s office, my assistant stopped me. “What is it?” “Um… Mr. Vance is in his office having breakfast with another lady.” Her eyes darted around, looking incredibly uncomfortable. I forced a light smile, trying to act unfazed. “Well, it’s none of my business when Mr. Vance decides to have breakfast.” “Wait, Lily… aren’t you and Mr. Vance…” I handed her a thick stack of folders. “Focus on your work. Stop gossiping.” The whispers in the hallway died down, but through the slight crack in the office door, a sweet voice drifted out. “The guy who picked me up yesterday was just a friend. I had no idea he’d show up… Ethan, don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?” “I’m so hungry. Feed me this one.” The girl’s voice was soft, sugary, and laced with childish poutiness. Ethan, who was usually a man of few words, actually chuckled. “Once we’re married, you have to stay by my side and behave.” The sickeningly sweet exchange sparked another wave of murmurs among the nearby desks. “Does Mr. Vance have a new girl?” “What’s going to happen to Lily?” “New girl? I heard Lily was just the side chick all along.” “Oh my god, really? She’s so shameless.” … The next second, the office door swung open. Ethan frowned, his gaze cold. “If anyone has anything else to say, come in and say it to my face.” A petite girl peeked out from behind him. She had porcelain skin and a sweet, delicate doll-like face—completely different from my style. She looked at me, her eyes curving into a bright, innocent smile. “Ethan, is this Lily, your secretary?” 0

I stood up. Ethan’s gaze swept over me. His eyes held nothing but cold indifference, as if the man who had held me so passionately last night didn’t exist. “Yes.” His tone was detached. The sheer lack of emotion in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Lily, come in.” I followed them into the office. I stood in front of his desk. Anna was sitting comfortably on Ethan’s lap like a clingy girlfriend. They looked perfect together. Anyone looking at them would think they were a match made in heaven. I clenched my fists, biting my lip so hard I could taste copper, forcing myself to remain calm. “Lily, I don’t want any ridiculous rumors reaching Anna’s ears.” His first words to me felt like a slap in the face. Rumors… did he mean the gossip outside? So, he didn’t come out to defend me. He came out to protect Anna from hearing about *us*. And his visit to my apartment last night was probably just because he was jealous, thinking Anna had another man. I looked at the beautiful, delicate girl in his lap. Then I looked down at myself. We were nothing alike. I wasn’t even qualified to be her substitute. “Understood. I’ll handle it,” I said, turning to leave. But Anna’s sweet voice stopped me. “Ethan, the company seems so much fun! Can I work as your secretary too? Just like Lily.” My breath hitched. Would Ethan fire me to make room for her? I stood frozen, waiting for his answer. “Sure. You can sit right next to me and keep me company.” I let out a silent breath. At least… I could still stay near him. “Lily, you can go now.” The days that followed were pure torture. I had to watch Ethan and Anna walk in and out of the office together. Whenever Anna was around, Ethan’s eyes never lingered on me for even a second. She was cheerful, bubbly, and full of life. When they were together, even Ethan’s cold demeanor melted into something gentle. “Lily, get in here.” I walked into the office. Anna was sitting at his computer playing a video game. Ethan threw a contract onto the desk. “You’ve been working here for years. How do you still make such amateur mistakes?” I picked it up. This was the contract Anna had asked me for a few days ago. She had complained about being bored, saying she had nothing to do. Thinking she had studied abroad and could handle a basic agreement, I handed it to her. Now, looking at it, the terms were a mess, and even the formatting was completely wrong. I closed the folder. “I’ll revise it and bring it back.” I just wanted to get out of there. Being scolded in front of Anna made me feel utterly humiliated. “Oh!” Anna let out a soft gasp. “Ethan… about that contract… I wanted to help Lily out, but I messed up. I’m so stupid.” Ethan pulled her into his arms, his voice dripping with affection. “You did this? You’re so smart!” “Don’t blame Lily. It’s all my fault.” I let out a dry, silent laugh in my mind. A simple contract had become a stage for her little victim play. “You don’t need to do anything,” Ethan said softly. “Just sitting here makes me happy.” I forced down the lump in my throat and walked out quietly. Ethan’s words echoed in my ears like salt being rubbed into an open wound. I rushed into the restroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to wake myself up. Suddenly, someone stood next to me. It was Anna. Her smile was still sweet, but her eyes held a trace of undisguised smugness. “Lily, are you okay? I didn’t know Ethan would raise his voice at you… He’s always so gentle with me.” She wasn’t lying. Ethan was indeed infinitely patient and gentle with her. 0

I didn’t say a word and walked back to my desk. Anna seemed to purposely leave the office door slightly open. “Ethan, Lily looked really upset just now.” “Whether she’s happy or not has nothing to do with me,” Ethan’s voice carried a heavy tone of annoyance. “If she can’t do her job, she can pack her bags and leave!” To Ethan, I was absolutely nothing. As I was fixing the mess Anna left behind, my assistant tiptoed over. “Lily, everyone is in the conference room. We’re just waiting for you.” This was the first meeting I hadn’t prepared myself. “That concludes this week’s business report,” the department head said, carefully closing the presentation. The atmosphere in the room was suffocating. Ethan sat at the head of the table, his arms crossed, eyes closed as if he were resting. “I expect all inappropriate gossip in this office to stop immediately.” Everyone knew exactly what he was talking about. “Especially some people—know your place. Don’t make assumptions you shouldn’t be making.” He might as well have called me out by name. “Ethan.” After the meeting adjourned, Ethan walked ahead. I called out to him. He paused but didn’t turn around. Even looking at me seemed like a waste of his time. I had truly overvalued myself in his heart. “Why did you have to call a company-wide meeting just to say that?” I wasn’t ready to let it go. To make me leave, he was willing to humiliate me in front of the entire company. “Anna was upset by the rumors.” With that, he walked away, disappearing down the corridor. Fine. Wonderful. But how could he use *that* heart to love another woman? The night grew deeper.

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My twin brother jumped from the school roof to his death. My parents didn’t call the cops. Instead, they ordered me to come back from the frontlines of war, step into his shoes, and pretend to be him at school. They wanted me to make every single person who bullied him pay in blood. Even his golden-girl ex-girlfriend would soon be kneeling at my feet, begging for mercy. On the other end of the line, my mother’s voice was broken, choked with sobs. “Your brother… Leo is dead. He killed himself.” Those words hit my chest like a sledgehammer. I could barely breathe. “Are you… are you sure?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but my hands were shaking. “Yes, Cole. They bullied him. They ruined him… It was too horrible,” she whimpered. “Don’t tell anyone. Don’t call the police yet. Put him in the cold storage room. I need to see him myself.” I forced myself to sound calm, though my tough exterior was cracking like cheap glass. “I’ve done it. When will you be home?” she asked. “Right now. I’m leaving the base immediately. Mom, hang in there.” I hung up, my heart bleeding. I had to find out what happened. My baby brother—the boy I had spent my entire life protecting—was lying in a freezer. How could he kill himself? The moment my flight landed, I hopped onto the motorcycle my contact had prepped for me and tore down the highway toward our family’s country estate. I bypassed the main house and went straight to the detached barn. In the driveway sat a commercial freezer truck my dad had rented through some underground connections. The moment Mom saw me, she burst into tears. Dad just pointed a trembling finger at the heavy metal doors of the truck, unable to speak. I stepped forward and pulled the latch. Inside, covered in a thin layer of frost, lay my brother. A white-hot rage flared in my chest. Leo and I were identical. If we wore the same clothes, only our mother could tell us apart. Even our dad used to get us mixed up. I immediately began examining his body. I needed to know exactly how he died. What I saw made my blood run cold. His skin was a canvas of abuse. Cigarette burns, deep blade cuts, crude surgical stitches… every mark screamed of the torture he had endured before he died. My grief hardened into a deadly, murderous resolve. I gently ran my hand over Leo’s cold cheek. Images of him as a little boy, always running behind me and calling my name, flashed through my mind. “This time, little brother, I’m going to tear their world apart.” I stepped out of the truck. Mom grabbed my hand, completely breaking down. “He suffered so much, Cole…” “Your father and I were useless. We went to the school, but they threatened us. We tried to get the local cops involved, but they just told us to settle it quietly. Nobody cared.” My chest tightened. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them, they were bloodshot with rage. I needed names. I needed to know who pushed him over the edge. I had spent years in a private mercenary group. I thought I was numb to blood and death. I thought nothing could make me feel pain again. But looking at my twin’s corpse felt like having a piece of my own soul ripped out. The legendary “White Wolf,” the most ruthless mercenary of the squad, was gone. Only a vengeful brother remained. Dad was sobbing quietly in the corner. The house was filled with a suffocating grief. “Mom, where is Leo’s phone?” my voice was dangerously low. She rushed inside and brought it to me. I unlocked it. The notifications were a nightmare. *“Yo, Leo, you dead yet? You skipped school today. I told you, today you’re playing my dog and licking my shoes in front of everyone.”* *“Where the fuck are you? You better have my two hundred bucks by tomorrow, or you’re dead.”* *“Leo, I still have that video of you and that fat, ugly chick naked. I wonder how your precious girlfriend Amber would feel if I leaked it? Show up tomorrow, or else.”* Below the texts was a video file. I clicked it. Leo was stripped naked, forced to kiss a crying, disfigured girl while a group of guys stood around them, laughing hysterically and kicking him. Every single message felt like a knife twisting in my ribs. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. I swore, right then and there, I would make them wish they were never born.

The next morning, I threw on Leo’s prep school blazer and walked through the gates of St. Jude’s Academy. As I entered the homeroom, the entire class stopped. They stared at me with smirks and mocking grins. I knew Leo’s class, but I didn’t know his exact seat. I walked up to a random guy near the front. “Where do I sit?” The guy blinked, then burst into a loud laugh. “Did you finally get your brain scrambled yesterday? You don’t even know your own seat? The trash sits in the trash corner, obviously.” A wave of snickers rippled through the room. I walked over to the desk in the far back corner. It was covered in graffiti, dirt, and garbage. I picked up Leo’s backpack. When I opened it, a pile of torn, defaced textbooks and ruined homework fell out. My face remained blank, but inside, a monster was waking up. The more I saw, the more I realized what a living hell my brother’s life had been. I calmly scooped up all the trash from my desk and stuffed it into the classroom wastebasket. Then, under the bewildered stares of my classmates, I walked over to the guy who had just mocked me and dumped the entire bin right onto his desk. “What the fuck! You want to die, Vance?!” He roared, jumping up and swinging a fist at my face. I dodged it effortlessly. With one smooth motion, I slammed the plastic trash can over his head, kicked his knees out, and sent him crashing back into his chair. He ripped the bin off his head, cursing, trying to stand up again. I slapped him. Hard. The crack echoed like a gunshot. Before he could recover, I grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face flat against the wooden desk. A pampered school kid was nothing against my military training. I squeezed a pressure point on his neck, and he let out a pathetic shriek. “Who messed with my desk?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, but cold enough to freeze water. I pressed harder. “I—I don’t know!” I dug my thumb deeper into his nerve ending. He screamed like a slaughtered pig, his legs flailing. “Stop! Stop! It was Jared! Chloe and Mia too! They dumped the trash on your desk! Nobody else did it, I swear!” His limbs were shaking. I let go. He slumped over the desk, sobbing like a baby. The entire classroom was dead silent. No one could believe their eyes. “Holy shit, Vance. You think you’re tough now? You’re dead after school, you freak.” A big, muscular guy—the classic varsity football type—stood up, pointing a finger at me. I smiled, walking slowly toward him. “Why wait until after school? Let’s talk right now.” The guy, Brandon, looked surprised. He glanced around at his friends. Realizing he had an audience, he decided he couldn’t back down. He lunged forward and tried to slap me. To the rest of the class, Brandon was a tank. But to me, his movements were in slow motion. Before his hand could even reach me, my fingers clamped onto the soft muscle group under his armpit like steel pliers. He froze, his face contorting in pure agony. “Let… Let go!” He screamed. I didn’t. Instead, I twisted his arm behind his back, locking his elbow joint. The more he struggled, the closer his bone came to snapping. Tears streamed down his face. “Stop! Please! It hurts! Please, stop!” Making a varsity athlete cry in front of his peers required a level of pain most normal people couldn’t even comprehend. I leaned in. “Jared, Chloe, and Mia ruined my desk. What are you going to do about it, Brandon?” “I’ll fix it! I’ll beat the shit out of them for you!” he cried out, his face turning purple as he trembled. I released him. He collapsed into his chair, his shirt drenched in sweat, gasping for air. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Brandon took a few deep breaths, then got up, marched over to Jared, and kicked him right out of his chair. “You idiot! Why the fuck did you mess with his desk and get me dragged into this?!” Brandon unleashed all his humiliation and rage onto Jared, kicking him repeatedly. Jared curled into a ball under his desk, howling for mercy. Chloe and Mia turned pale. They scrambled backward, looking for an exit. “Clean my desk,” I said, pointing to the corner. “Put it back where it belongs, and I won’t hold a grudge.” The two girls ran to the back of the room, grabbed paper towels and disinfectant, and began scrubbing my desk like their lives depended on it. One of them ran to the bathroom to fetch fresh water. Just as they were finishing, the classroom door swung open. Two guys and a girl walked in. “Chloe? Mia? Are you out of your minds?” The guy in the lead was handsome, wearing a tailored designer jacket over his uniform. He frowned, looking at me sitting casually on the edge of a desk. “Why are you cleaning up for this loser, Leo?” I pulled out my phone and checked the photos. Tristan Sterling. The golden boy. The billionaire’s son. My brother’s phone logs showed that Tristan was the mastermind behind almost all of his torment.

I stood up and walked toward him. Before I could even say a word, Tristan sneered and swung a hard punch at my jaw. I caught his fist in mid-air. With a simple twist of my wrist, a loud *pop* echoed through the room. Tristan’s shoulder dislocated. “Aaaahhh! My arm! You broke my arm!” he shrieked, falling to his knees. He had never experienced real physical pain in his life. The arrogant, untouchable rich kid vanished in an instant, replaced by a whimpering child. I shook his dislocated arm slightly. He screamed louder, tears and snot running down his face. Just then, the warning bell for the next class rang. I grabbed his arm, gave it a sharp yank, and popped the joint back into place. The worst of the pain subsided instantly, but he was left shaking, covered in cold sweat. “Let’s meet up after school. Our usual spot,” I whispered, tapping his cheek with a grin before walking back to my clean desk. The classroom remained silent. Tristan’s friends stared at me as if they were looking at a ghost. When Tristan finally recovered, he glared at me with pure, murderous hatred. I just winked at him. At lunchtime, I walked over to the basketball courts near the cafeteria. Within minutes, Tristan appeared, flanked by a dozen massive guys from the sports teams. A few of them were holding baseball bats. “You’re a dead man, Vance! You think you’re tough because you got lucky this morning? Get him! I’ll pay for his medical bills. Break his legs!” Tristan roared, waving his hand. They rushed me. I immediately went into defensive mode, protecting my vital organs with my arms. I let them kick and punch me, but I wasn’t just taking the beating. I was using a close-quarters military defense—using my elbows and knees to strike their joints as they closed in. To anyone watching, I was getting jumped. But in reality, the guys hitting me were the ones letting out muffled groans of pain. After about three minutes of acting, I saw my opening. I broke through their circle, looking disheveled and bruised, and ran toward the alley behind the gymnasium. It was a blind spot. No security cameras. I stopped. The mob caught up, laughing. “Can’t run anymore, can you? You broke my hand with your elbow, you freak! I’m going to smash your head in!” The guys with the baseball bats swung at me. I stopped playing defense. My eyes went cold, and I stepped into their guard. Elbows to the throat. Knees to the ribs. Sweeps to the ankles. The sickening sound of cracking bones filled the narrow alley. I moved like a shadow, slipping past their clumsy swings. Their attacks couldn’t even graze me. Within two minutes, all twelve of Tristan’s goons were on the floor, groaning and clutching shattered limbs. Tristan stood at the back, completely frozen. “No… No way. Leo is a coward. How can you fight like this?” I walked up to him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You guys got away with torturing my brother because the school board protects you. Because your dad owns this place, right?” Tristan’s eyes widened with terror. He tried to puff out his chest. “If you know who my dad is, you better back off. He can have you thrown in prison with one phone call!”

I laughed. I pulled a long, thick metal nail from my pocket, clicked my lighter, and began heating the tip. “Tell me,” I said softly, “what kind of shady deals are going on between the Principal and your dad?” Tristan stared at the glowing hot metal, his chest heaving. “What are you talking about? My dad just donated some money to the school—” Before he could finish, I slammed the heated nail into a deep nerve cluster near his collarbone and covered his mouth with my hand. He went rigid, his eyes bulging as he thrashed against me. After five seconds, I pulled the nail out. The smell of singed flesh rose between us. Tristan collapsed to the ground, his body shaking, soaked in sweat. I clicked the lighter again, heating the nail once more. “This is an old interrogation trick from the Middle East. It won’t kill you, but the pain in that nerve cluster will last for a week.” “One or two points are manageable. But if I do ten? The pain will trigger a constant, burning fever. Your body will feel like it’s on fire, and no painkillers in the world will help you.” “The record is twenty-seven points. The guy lasted eleven days before his heart gave out. Want to see how many you can take?”

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After my divorce, I chose to work in the big city. I couldn’t shake the worry of leaving my aging mother, Evelyn, and my young daughter, Lily, alone in our remote hometown. So, I hired a nanny to look after them. But ever since the nanny moved in, I noticed bruises on Lily’s arms every time I went back for the holidays. When I asked Lily about them, she just said she fell by accident. But there was a flicker of fear in her eyes when she spoke. The first time it happened, I thought she was just being shy because we hadn’t seen each other in a while. I didn’t think too much of it. I figured kids warm up quickly, and I’d just spend more time with her on my next visit. But every single time I came home, I saw more bruises, big and small, all over her arms. Over time, I started getting suspicious. So, while my mother and the nanny went out for a walk, I secretly installed a pinhole camera in the living room. During my lunch break at work, I opened the app to check the live feed. What I saw made me bite my lower lip so hard it almost bled. A wave of uncontrollable fury washed over me. In the video, the nanny was barking orders at my daughter, who wasn’t even six yet, forcing her to wash her grandson’s dirty underwear. Lily wasn’t strong enough to scrub them. The nanny’s wooden stick rained down on her without mercy. Lily turned her head, crying, looking at her grandmother for help. She was hoping to find some protection from her own flesh and blood. But what froze my blood was my mother. Lily’s actual grandmother just sat there, completely ignoring the abuse. She even smiled warmly and handed a piece of cake to the little boy, the nanny’s grandson. When she saw my daughter looking at her longingly, she didn’t just glare at Lily—she pushed the cake even closer to the boy’s chest. This only fueled the boy’s arrogance. Seeing this, the little boy gave Lily a smug, mocking smirk. His expression said it all: *So what if she’s your grandmother? The cake is still mine!* Just as I was about to lose my mind and call the nanny to fire her, a voice from my phone screen left me utterly paralyzed. “What are you looking at? A worthless girl like you doesn’t deserve good food. Get back to washing those clothes!” Hearing my own mother say those words, my fists clenched so hard my body trembled. I couldn’t believe it came from her mouth. I knew my mother preferred boys, but I never realized her sexism was this deeply rooted. It was so bad that she would abuse her own granddaughter just to pamper someone else’s son. I looked closer at the screen. Lily was wearing an old outfit I bought her two years ago. It wasn’t the nice, brand-new clothes she wore whenever I came home to visit. The sleeves were already way too short, yet she was still forced to wear it. Meanwhile, the nanny’s grandson was dressed in designer clothes from head to toe, living like a little prince. I worked myself to the bone in the city just so Lily could have a better life. I sent home two-thirds of my salary every single month. Every holiday, I mailed packages of expensive toys and clothes, terrified that my mother would skimp on things and make my daughter suffer. Now that I thought about it, not a single thing I sent ever reached my daughter’s hands. The thought of my hard-earned money feeding these leeches made me want to fly back and tear them to pieces. But I forced myself to calm down and quickly saved the video. Firing her was too easy. I was going to make them spit out every single penny they stole from us. I immediately called my mother and told her I was firing the nanny. My mother panicked instantly. She started babbling about how amazing the nanny was. When she realized I wasn’t budging, she lost all composure and started screaming hysterically over the phone. Once she tired herself out, right before she could hang up, I said coldly, “Fine. I won’t fire her. But you better take damn good care of my daughter. Kids at her age are active. Watch her and don’t let her run around. I don’t want to see a single scratch on her the next time I come home.” Hearing my tone soften, my mother immediately agreed with joyful relief. She wanted to say more, but I hung up in her face. That afternoon, I checked the camera again. Sure enough, Lily was dressed in new clothes, sitting on the couch watching TV. The nanny, on the other hand, was squatting on the floor, washing the clothes Lily hadn’t finished that morning. Looking at the screen, I smirked. They could only act tough with their mouths. I held the purse strings. If I really cut them off, they would have to swallow their teeth and deal with it. That phone call was a warning. I wanted them to realize who the real boss of that house was. Since I had seen their true colors, I wouldn’t let my daughter suffer even a second of abuse before I kicked that nanny out for good. ### 2 After handling a mountain of work all afternoon, I was completely drained. I opened my phone, wanting to see my daughter. Lily was my only motivation to keep going. Every time I felt like giving up, just looking at her face recharged me. But this time, as I toggled through all the cameras in the house, Lily was nowhere to be seen. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I assumed she was just in the bathroom. I got up, made myself a fruit bowl, and sat down to eat while keeping an eye on the screen. But even after I finished half the bowl, Lily still hadn’t appeared. Suddenly, a cold, nameless dread gripped my entire body. Without thinking, I booked the absolute fastest train ticket back home and rushed to the station. The thought of something happening to my daughter made my throat tight. I could barely breathe. A freezing chill spread through my limbs. The entire ride, I stared at the screen, praying that her tiny figure would pop up. But even when the train pulled into my hometown station, Lily never appeared. I ran out, hailed a cab, and gave the driver my address. “Please, step on it. I’ll pay you triple,” I gasped. Seeing my pale, bloodless face and my anxious eyes glued to the phone, the driver didn’t ask questions. He slammed on the gas and sped through the streets. The moment I burst through the door, I frantically demanded to know where Lily was. My mother stammered, refusing to look me in the eye. I whipped around and glared at the nanny. “I sold the little brat,” the nanny said casually. Those words hit me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened in sheer horror. My brain struggled to process the sounds coming out of her mouth. *Sold? My baby girl was sold?* Before I could even react, the woman smirked triumphantly. “We sold her this afternoon, and you rushed back immediately. It looks like my guess was right—you did put secret cameras in the house.” She looked incredibly pleased with herself, as if proud of her own cleverness. I hated myself. I actually believed these two monsters could change their spots. Everything they did earlier was just a cheap trick to make me let my guard down. “Where is she?!” I screamed, my voice cracking. The nanny chuckled dismissively. “It’s just a girl. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Before I could speak, my mother chimed in. “She’s right, Clara. Girls eventually get married and belong to someone else anyway. Beatrice is my cousin. She grew up in the city because of her weak health, which is why you never met her. Technically, you should call her Aunt Bea. Her grandson, Tommy, is the one who will carry on our family bloodline!” So that was why she seemed so delicate yet city-savvy. No wonder I had no memory of this “Aunt Bea.” They had planned this whole thing. My mother looked at my livid face and continued, completely unfazed. “Your Aunt Bea held you when you were a baby, you know. Besides, Lily is going to a good home to enjoy life. They paid ten thousand dollars in cash. They clearly value her. She won’t suffer.” As if trying to throw more fuel onto the fire, the nanny chimed in gleefully. “Honestly, that worthless girl of yours is lucky. They originally only offered six thousand. But they saw she has good genes and will make a great future wife, so they added another four thousand. Now my grandson’s private school tuition is fully covered! We can even buy him some nice steak and those sneakers he wanted.” She nudged my mother with her elbow. “Exactly! Ten thousand dollars! Ask around, which girl in this county gets that much of an adoption fee?” “Your Aunt Bea and I worked ourselves to the bone to find her such a wealthy family. Lily won’t lose out.” “Just put your heart at ease. From now on, help me raise Tommy. He’ll treat you like his own mother and take care of you when you’re old.” “Listen to your elders, Clara. Your own mother would never hurt you. Just be good.” Listening to the nanny happily planning how to spend my daughter’s blood money, and seeing my own mother stupidly agreeing to raise someone else’s kid, my head pounded. Rage exploded in my chest. How dare they say they “worked hard” to find her a good home? They just worked hard to find the highest bidder! For ten thousand dollars, they sold my Lily. She’s only six! She was supposed to start elementary school soon. And her own grandmother and nanny sold her like cattle. How terrified must my baby have been? “Exactly. Don’t go hating Tommy just because your girl was sold. We don’t want any bad blood,” the nanny said, crossing her arms and looking at me with smug satisfaction. How laughable. Did she really think some ancient “raise a boy for your old age” nonsense would work on me? Did she think I would abandon my own flesh and blood to raise her brat, who didn’t even share a drop of my blood? Did she take me for an idiot? “Lily is my daughter! I almost died giving birth to her! She is not someone else’s child!” “My Lily gets straight A’s and wins awards every year! You sold her just to pay tuition for a failing brat?” “Your grandson is a loser. Do you really think his problem is the tuition?” I squeezed my fists, fighting the urge to strangle them right there. “With his attitude, he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up in prison, let alone take care of you! And even if anyone is getting taken care of, Lily would take care of me. As for you? You don’t deserve a damn thing!” The nanny’s eyes flared with anger, but she quickly masked it with smugness. “So what if she gets good grades? She’s still going to belong to another man’s house. A woman’s ultimate goal is to rely on a man. I won’t hold your little tantrum against you. Buy my grandson a nice house in the city’s best school district, and I’ll make sure he buries you when you die.”

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