The year my mother and father’s mistress fell to their deaths, I cut off my family and followed Jake to New York. Broke back then, he gave me everything after years of struggle. Near the anniversary of my mother’s death, he said, “Anna, I’m moving the company to London. Will you be upset?” Touched, I told him to go ahead and set things up. Two months later, I was pregnant. I secretly flew to London to surprise him. At his townhouse, I heard a familiar voice—Sophie, my half-sister, the other woman’s daughter. “Honey, are we staying here?” she asked. Jake replied, “Yes. You and the baby are here. I couldn’t leave.” My blood ran cold. I hid as they came out. He helped her, her bump clearly showing. He fussed over her, calling himself an overprotective first-time dad. The way he looked at her was how he once looked at me. After they left, I wandered to my mother’s old house and sat in the dark until Jake called. “Anna,” he asked gently, “sleeping okay?” I couldn’t speak. “No, Jake. I haven’t been feeling well lately. When are you coming back to New York?” “Not feeling well? What’s wrong? Did you go see a doctor?” He sounded so frantic. So worried. If I hadn’t seen that devastating scene with my own eyes, I would have instantly comforted him, told him I was fine, told him not to stress. “I can’t sleep. I have no appetite, and I keep throwing up. Jake… I think I’m pregnant.” The line went dead silent. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. His tone was tight, edged with agitation. “Anna, I’m right in the middle of the most chaotic phase of the corporate move. This is a really bad time for a baby.” He paused, forcing his voice to soften. “Be a good girl. The pregnancy is still early. Go to a clinic and take care of it. Once we’re fully settled back in the UK, we can plan for a family. Okay?” I let out a broken laugh, swiping at the wetness completely covering my face. “Are you saying it’s a bad time for a baby, or is it just a bad time for my baby?” “What the hell is that supposed to mean! I told you, the timing is terrible. Why can’t you just be understanding for once?” I hung up the phone. I opened my laptop, pulled up the UK visa application site, and began filling out the forms. Under marital status, I selected ‘Married’. A line of glaring red text popped up on the screen. “The information provided does not match system records. Please verify and resubmit.” Thinking I had typed the marriage certificate number wrong, I entered it again. Same red text. I stared at the glowing screen for several seconds. My fingers were trembling uncontrollably as I clicked the dropdown menu and changed it to ‘Single’. Approved. So, when Sophie called him her husband, she meant it legally. And the courthouse wedding Jake and I had in Brooklyn three years ago was a complete fake. When we got “married,” Jake had told me the process in the States was incredibly streamlined. No officiant needed, no witnesses required, just signing some papers and getting a certificate. I had trusted him implicitly. I never harbored a single doubt. It turned out he had been playing me for a fool from the very beginning. I booked the next flight back to New York. I dug out that flimsy, pathetic excuse for a marriage certificate. The whole room started spinning. When I finally opened my eyes again, I was blinded by hospital white. “Anna, you’re awake!” Seeing the mix of anxiety and relief in Jake’s eyes made my stomach violently turn. I weakly raised my fists, pummeling his chest. “Why! Why did you lie to me! The marriage certificate is fake! It’s all fake! You legally married Sophie in London. I saw everything! You’re a piece of trash, Jake!” A flash of pure panic crossed his face. “Anna… please calm down. Just let me explain…” Smack. My palm collided with his cheek, draining the last ounce of my strength. Jake pinned my wrists down, the words spilling out of him in a rushed frenzy. “Sophie had a terrible life. Everywhere she went, people treated her like dirt because she was an illegitimate child. Your dad came to me. He begged me to give her a legitimate status. But I love you, Anna. It’s always been you. Once Sophie has the baby, I’ll divorce her immediately, and we’ll get properly married…” I clutched my head, a raw scream tearing from my throat. “Her mother killed my mother! Did you forget that?! My mother paid for your college tuition! Why would you help our enemy? Why!” Jake yanked my hands away. A look of deep impatience settled over his features, and his volume spiked. “Her mother is dead too! Anna, can you not have an ounce of empathy? You’re both victims in this, there is no right or wrong. You have me for the rest of your life. She has absolutely nothing. I just felt sorry for her. I couldn’t let my gratitude to your mother blind me to basic human decency.” I went completely still. I looked at him, my eyes devoid of anything but dead ash. “I’m going back to London.” There were too many things I needed to uncover. The car ride from Heathrow Airport headed toward the suburbs. “That townhouse is in Sophie’s name. I’ve arranged a new place for you,” Jake explained from the driver’s seat. “How many months along is she?” The car jerked to a violent halt. I slammed my head against the dashboard. Pain and dizziness hit me simultaneously. “What are you trying to do?” he snapped. In the past, if I even got a paper cut, he would coddle me for hours. Now, his only concern was whether I posed a threat to Sophie. I laughed out loud. “When exactly did you two start screwing each other? Three years ago? Five?” Humiliation tightened Jake’s jaw. “Anna, what’s done is done. Digging up the past is pointless. If you want to keep your baby, I won’t force you to get rid of it. But I’m warning you, you will not lay a finger on Sophie’s child.” That last sentence was a flat-out threat. I thought my heart was already dead, but those words still sent a vicious, stabbing pain straight through my chest. The second I walked into the new house, I saw Sophie. She was wearing a tight knit maxi dress, proudly jutting out her belly, standing right in the middle of the living room like she owned the place. “Sis, you’re back!” Jake immediately rushed to her side, supporting her lower back. His tone was laced with gentle reprimand. “Why didn’t you stay home and rest? What are you doing here?” Sophie smiled softly, trailing her fingers down his arm. “The baby has been so good today, not kicking too hard. Don’t be such a worrywart.” Jake pinched her nose. “You’re acting like a kid yourself. I swear I can’t handle you.” Sophie shot a sideways glance at me, acting entirely bashful. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me. My sister is right there.” I stood there like an unwanted guest, forced to watch their disgusting display of domestic bliss. Despite my best efforts, my eyes burned with hot tears. A dull ache started pulsing in my lower abdomen. “Does the deed to this house have my name on it?” I asked. Jake guided Sophie to the plush sofa, settling her down before looking at me. “Of course it’s yours.” I placed a protective hand over my stomach and took a deep breath. “In that case, I want everyone who doesn’t belong here to get out of my house.” Jake’s brow furrowed. Sophie’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “It’s my fault. I just missed you so much since we haven’t seen each other in forever. If you don’t want me here, Sis, I’ll leave right now.” She made a dramatic show of struggling to stand up, which sent Jake into a full panic. “Sophie is your younger sister. You shouldn’t treat her like this.” The rage I had been suppressing violently boiled over. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “I don’t have a sister! My mother only gave birth to one daughter!” Sophie buried her face in Jake’s chest, her voice trembling with manufactured sobs. “Hubby, just let me go home. Please don’t upset her anymore.” “I’ll drive you back.” He supported her weight as they walked past me, dropping his voice into a low, disappointed register. “I really hope you can get your emotions under control.” The front door clicked shut. I collapsed onto the couch, buried my face in my hands, and cried until I was completely hollowed out. Jake didn’t come back that night. Instead, my phone lit up with a video message from Sophie. [My pregnancy is making things difficult, but he was so worried about my needs, he insisted on helping me out like this.] The video showed them in bed. I didn’t need to watch the rest. [Sis, do you think he’ll be this attentive when your belly gets big too?] A foul wave of nausea hit the back of my throat. I bolted to the bathroom, dry heaving over the toilet bowl. Everything that had happened over the past few weeks felt like a twisted fever dream. I honestly didn’t know what my next move should be. Suddenly, there was a tiny flutter in my belly. It was a kick. My baby’s first movement. Right then and there, I made my decision. I was keeping this child. But this baby would have absolutely nothing to do with Jake. The next morning, I went straight to the sprawling estate of the man I had disowned. My biological father, Richard. “I’m here to take back the shares of the family trust my mother left for me.” A flicker of guilt crossed Richard’s face. “When you ran off five years ago, I already transferred your mother’s portion to Sophie.” My stomach plummeted. “That belonged to my mother! What right did you have to give it to the daughter of a homewrecker!” “Jake knew about it. In fact, it was his suggestion.” Jake… When his tech company went public in New York, I had asked him to help me fly back to London to reclaim my mother’s shares. At the time, he told me Richard had used a corporate loophole to buy them out at a rock-bottom price, and that he could only salvage a cash payout for me. Why? My mother had paid for his entire Ivy League education. He used to tell me she was like a second mother to him. He promised her he would protect me for the rest of his life. How could a human being rot so completely from the inside out? When I got back to the house, Jake was already there. He walked over, reaching out to grab my hand. I sidestepped, letting his fingers grasp empty air. “Exactly how many things are you hiding from me?” He looked me dead in the eye, perfectly composed. “Aside from marrying Sophie, absolutely nothing.” I lost it. I threw myself at him, slamming my fists into his chest. “Liar! Liar! You told my father to give my mother’s trust fund to Sophie! You gaslighted me for years! Who the hell are you, Jake? If you were skilled enough to play me for five years, why didn’t you have the guts to lie to me for the rest of my life!” “Anna, stop it! You have me! I’ll make sure you never have to worry about money for as long as you live. But Sophie has nothing. She needed a safety net. Can you just let this go? We still have a life to build together. If you keep acting like a hysterical maniac every single day, who could possibly stand being around you?” “If you can’t stand it, then get the hell out! I never want to see your face again! Ah…” A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my stomach. I doubled over. “Take me… to the hospital…” Jake’s face drained of color. He reached out to catch me, but his phone rang. “Hubby, my stomach is hurting so bad… please come back, I’m so scared…” His entire demeanor shifted in a heartbeat. “Don’t move! I’m on my way!” He looked down at me. “Anna, Sophie is further along, she can’t handle any stress. Stop throwing tantrums. Let me go check on her, and I’ll come right back to you.” Without a backward glance, he sprinted out the door. “Jake…” I pulled out my phone with trembling, sweaty fingers and dialed emergency services. “The baby is fine,” the doctor told me later. “A few days of bed rest and you’ll be okay. But you cannot afford these massive emotional spikes. The baby feels whatever the mother feels. For the sake of your child, you need to find a way to stay calm.” I exhaled a massive, shaky breath. “Thank you, doctor.” During my days recovering in the sterile hospital room, Jake didn’t call once. Instead, Sophie bombarded my phone with taunts. “All I had to do was say the baby kicked, and he lost his mind with worry. Sis, there’s no point staying by his side as a pregnant mistress with no legal standing. You should just leave. He’s never going to divorce me.” For the sake of the life growing inside me, I locked my phone away and forced myself to breathe through the anger. Once I was discharged and back at the house, I started packing. I was leaving. I would figure out the rest later. Just as I zipped up my suitcase, Sophie let herself in. “Glad to see you finally came to your senses, Sis. But you probably still have some lingering questions. I came over to clear things up for you.” She looked down, gently stroking her swollen belly. Her voice was terrifyingly soft. “Actually, the night before you two flew out to the States? We slept together.” The words hit me like a physical blow. “You must think it’s impossible, right? Since he hated me so much back then. I went to his apartment with a bottle of whiskey to say goodbye. I told him I had no mother, I’d never get a dime of the family money, and I was doomed to be mocked as an illegitimate bastard for the rest of my life. “He felt sorry for me. He drank glass after glass. When he got drunk, it just… happened naturally. “But Sis, do you really think a black-out drunk man can perform? He knew it was me the whole time. “So you see, you lost to me before you even got on that plane.” I stood glued to the floor. I had imagined a thousand different timelines, but I never thought the betrayal ran this deep. On our flight to New York, Jake had been incredibly distracted. I thought he was just anxious about leaving his home country. Now I knew he was leaving a piece of his heart behind. It was pathetic. I had spent the last five years treating him as my safe harbor. Trusting him unconditionally. I was nothing but a spectacular, colossal joke. Seeing the devastation on my face, Sophie smiled. She slowly pushed up the sleeve of her designer cardigan, revealing an exquisite, vintage Cartier bangle on her wrist. That was my mother’s heirloom. When the homewrecker stole it and sold it years ago, it vanished. Later, I heard it surfaced at a private auction in London. I had begged Jake to fly back and bid on it for me. He had returned looking absolutely gutted, telling me he got outbid by an anonymous buyer. Because his startup was struggling, I swallowed my heartbreak and comforted him. I told him if my mother was watching over us, the bracelet would find its way back to me eventually. “Figured it out yet?” Sophie whispered. “He fought tooth and nail in a bidding war to buy this for me. And he lied straight to your face. From the very beginning, you’ve always been second place.” I lunged at her. “Give it back! Give it back to me!” We grappled. In the chaotic shoving, my foot slipped. I crashed hard onto the hardwood floor. A blinding, agonizing cramp seized my lower abdomen. A thick, terrifying warmth spread between my legs. The metallic scent of blood hit the air. My baby… Sophie immediately threw herself onto the floor and started screaming at the top of her lungs. “Ah! It hurts! Sis, why did you push me?!” “Sophie! What happened?! Don’t be scared, I’ll get you to the hospital right now!” Jake had arrived. He didn’t even look at me. He only had eyes for her. Clutching my stomach, fighting through the blinding agony, I begged him. “I’m bleeding… my baby is dying…” Jake finally turned his head. His eyes were a twisted mixture of disappointment and pure rage. His voice dropped to a sinister, chilling octave I had never heard before. “If anything happens to Sophie or my child, I will make you pay.” “Don’t go…” I watched helplessly as Jake scooped Sophie into his arms and bolted. Before he turned the corner, Sophie’s lips curled into a victorious smirk. She silently mouthed the words: You lose again.

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1 My name is Sarah. Five years into my marriage with Jean, I gave up my life to save his, leaving this world forever. The only piece of my soul I left behind was our four-year-old son, Toby. In the years that followed, Jean raised our little boy all on his own, fiercely guarding every single memory of the life we shared. That was, until a woman named Nicole walked into his life. She pursued Jean relentlessly, throwing her whole heart at him. But no matter how desperately Nicole confessed her feelings, Jean turned her down cold. “I made a promise to Sarah,” he told her. “For the rest of my life, my heart belongs entirely to her. She is my one and only wife.” I floated right beside him as a spirit, watching him, silently praying he would keep that promise. I never expected what would happen next. A massive fire broke out at Toby’s school. Nicole charged into the burning building without a second thought. She managed to save my son, but she was trapped under a falling beam and slipped into a deep coma. Jean lost every ounce of his composure. He fell to his knees beside her hospital bed, begging Nicole to open her eyes, over and over again. Nicole’s eyes remained firmly shut. But I, inexplicably, felt a violent pull. Before I knew what was happening, I was sucked directly into her body. I blinked her eyes open. The first person in my line of sight was Jean. He didn’t recognize me. With tears streaming down his face, he looked at me, or rather, the woman he thought was Nicole, and choked out a confession. “Nicole, I love you.” For a split second, I honestly thought the smoke had messed with my hearing. But Jean immediately said it again. “Nicole, I love you.” “I already talked to my parents. The second you’re out of the woods and fully recovered, we are planning the wedding.” “Thank God you’re okay…” He pressed my hand against his wet cheek, looking at me with pure, unadulterated devotion. I lay there completely paralyzed. I had no idea how to tell him that I wasn’t Nicole. I was his dead wife, Sarah. Worse yet, I had no idea how to process the crushing reality that he had genuinely fallen in love with another woman. Seeing my silence, Jean panicked and started apologizing. “I’m so sorry, Nicole. I was a fool before. I clearly had feelings for you, but I was just too much of a coward to admit it.” “I swear to you, from this day forward, I will love you and only you. Okay?” Those words were the exact same words he used when he proposed to the real me years ago. Back then, I had wrapped my arms around his neck, laughing and teasing him. “It’s a deal! If you ever change your mind, I’ll never forgive you, even if I’m dead!” And yet, here we were. All I could do was dig my fingernails into my palms, fighting back a wave of bitter tears as I tried to correct him. “But I’m not Ni…” Before the name could fully leave my lips, a tiny figure bolted into the hospital room. “Mommy! You’re finally awake!” My entire body violently jolted. I watched helplessly as my little boy threw his small arms around my torso, his eyes swollen and red from crying. Feeling the radiating heat of his small body, a massive rush of joy completely short-circuited my brain. My voice trembled uncontrollably. “What… what did you just call me?” “Can you say it one more time?” It had been so unbelievably long since I heard my Toby call me Mom. But before Toby could open his mouth again, Jean gently covered the boy’s lips, offering a patient correction. “Toby, buddy, you can’t call her that yet. Auntie Nicole hasn’t agreed to marry daddy.” “She isn’t your mom right now.” Those words hit me like a bucket of ice water. The brutal reality snapped back into place. Right now, in their eyes, I was Nicole. Even Jean couldn’t spot a single difference. How could my sweet, innocent son possibly know that his real mother was trapped inside this woman’s body? My nose stung fiercely. I lowered my gaze, trying to explain myself one more time. “Actually, I really am Toby’s mo…” Jean completely misunderstood my hesitation. He grabbed my hands, his eyes wild with excitement. “Wait, does that mean you’re saying yes? You’ll marry me?” I froze. I was just about to shake my head. But Toby let out a joyful cheer and hugged me even tighter. “Yay! That means Auntie Nicole is going to be my new mommy! Right?!” I looked at the absolute elation lighting up both of their faces. The truth withered and died in my throat. In the three agonizing years since my death, this was the first time I had seen either of them look so genuinely happy. They truly loved Nicole. As for me… I was a ghost who had been dead for three years. No matter how much it tore me apart, what right did I have to steal the happiness they so desperately wanted? My eyes burned with fresh tears. I awkwardly turned my face away and offered a single, stiff nod. “Yes.” I had no idea when my soul would be ripped away from this body. But if Nicole was the only person they wanted to see, then I would give them exactly what they wanted. 2 Hearing my answer, both father and son practically tackled me in a massive hug. Jean’s voice cracked with raw emotion. “Nicole, thank you…” “Thank you for forgiving me, and thank you for being willing to be Toby’s mom.” Toby was too young to understand the gravity of it all. He just buried his face in my chest, echoing his dad’s thank you. As I sat there, the scent clinging to their clothes drifted into my nose, leaving me entirely dazed. After all these years, they still smelled exactly like gardenias. It was my absolute favorite scent. When I was alive, I constantly bought that specific floral detergent to wash all of their laundry. Whenever I hung the clothes up to dry, Toby used to cling to my legs and grin. “Mommy smells so good! I love it!” And Jean would always pull me into his chest and whisper. “Every time I smell gardenias on you, it just makes me feel so grounded. So safe.” It was the signature scent of our little family of three. But right now, they were carrying that exact same scent while holding another woman’s body. A sickening wave of revulsion and rejection clawed at my throat. I pushed them away, holding my breath. “What is that smell on you two? It’s way too strong. It’s suffocating.” Jean lifted his sleeve to his nose, and his entire body went rigid. Toby immediately piped up to explain. “It’s gardenia flowers! Daddy says it’s because my first mommy loved…” Before he could finish, Jean clamped a hand over his mouth. “It’s just a regular detergent. If you don’t like it, I’ll throw it out and buy a new one tomorrow.” Jean looked at me with total caution, treating me like fragile glass. The very next day, the scent on their clothes completely changed. It was a sickly sweet citrus scent. The exact kind of fruity smell I absolutely despised. To make matters worse, Toby kept clinging to me, excitedly asking if I liked the new smell. Looking at his sweet, innocent face, I forced a fake smile and nodded, silently ordering myself to let go of the past. I wasn’t Sarah anymore. I had to play the role of Nicole perfectly, right up until the day she returned to claim her life. I arrived in silence, and I would leave in silence. If I did that, I could at least lie to myself. I could pretend that in my memories, our family was still as beautiful and flawless as it used to be. To the current Jean and Toby, “Nicole’s” feelings were the only things that mattered. Because he thought “Nicole” didn’t like it, Jean voluntarily took off his wedding ring, leaving behind a stark, pale indentation on his ring finger. Because he thought “Nicole” didn’t want to see any reminders of Sarah, Toby took off the custom silver locket I had personally engraved for him. He stuffed it in a drawer and never wore it again. Bit by bit, piece by piece, father and son meticulously scrubbed every trace of my existence from their lives. And I was forced to sit there and watch it happen. Right before I was discharged from the hospital, my period hit. I lay curled up in the hospital bed, shivering violently from the brutal cramps. Toby scrambled up onto the mattress and snuggled into my chest, using his little body heat to warm my aching stomach. Jean actually called out of work. He rushed all the way home just to cook a pot of warm, brown sugar pecan oatmeal for me. Everything was playing out exactly like it used to. But I knew the truth. They still hadn’t recognized me. Jean scooped up a spoonful of the hot oatmeal and brought it to my lips. “Be a good girl, eat it while it’s hot. The pain will go away soon.” It was a sweet, comforting bowl of food, but the steam rising off it made my eyes sting with unshed tears. I turned my head away. “I don’t want it.” Jean’s hand froze mid-air. His voice hitched with sudden anxiety. “But this used to be your absolute favorite. Why don’t you want it? Is your stomach acting up?” He turned around, fully prepared to hit the call button for the nurse. My voice sliced through the air and stopped him dead in his tracks. “Jean, I’m highly allergic to pecans. I’ve never touched the stuff in my life.” “Who exactly is the woman in your head right now?” 3 My dead heart suddenly sparked back to life. God knows how desperately I wanted Jean to figure out the truth. I wanted to find even the tiniest crumb of evidence that he still loved me. But he just stood there, his lips parting and closing for several agonizing seconds, completely speechless. I wasn’t allergic to pecans. Sarah loved them. But in my inherited memories, the real Nicole was severely allergic, and she had explicitly warned Jean about it multiple times. The fact that he completely forgot about her allergy… did that mean I still held the top spot in his heart? Toby looked back and forth between us. He tugged gently on Jean’s sleeve and whispered a reminder. “Daddy, the person who loves pecan oatmeal is Mommy.” My eyes flooded with heat. I bit down hard on my lower lip and looked away. I couldn’t even describe the twisted, suffocating feeling in my chest. Jean slowly set the bowl down on the nightstand. He pulled me into a tight embrace, apologizing over and over again. “I’m so sorry, Nicole… I completely forgot.” “Sarah always loved eating this. Whenever her time of the month came around, making this for her always made her smile.” “I just haven’t adjusted yet. I’m so sorry. Please, just give me a little more time. I swear I’ll memorize every single thing you like, and I’ll wipe Sarah from my memory entirely. Please?” I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, letting the metaphorical blood drip straight down into my shattered heart. Fine. Let it be like this. I needed to stop holding onto these pathetic delusions. I was only torturing myself. I rested my head against his shoulder and gave a weak nod. “Don’t let it happen again.” Toby pressed his little face against my arm and spoke up in his sweetest voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll supervise Daddy! We’ll memorize everything about you!” They were men of their word. From that day forward, they never got “Nicole’s” preferences wrong again. After I was officially discharged, Jean brought me back to our family home. During the years I existed purely as a spirit, I had haunted this house. I knew Jean couldn’t bear to throw any of my belongings away. He had kept the house in pristine condition, looking exactly as it did the day I died. He forbade anyone from touching a single thing. Once, when Nicole shamelessly invited herself over, she accidentally knocked over a half-finished Lego castle I had been building with Toby. Jean had completely lost his mind, screaming at her to get out. Afterward, completely ignoring his usual polished dignity, he had dug through the trash bin to find the missing plastic bricks. He and Toby spent hours rebuilding it, placing it perfectly back on its display shelf. But now… I scanned the expansive living room. The Lego castle on the entryway console was gone. The custom ceramic vase I bought for the coffee table had vanished. Even the massive family portrait of the three of us that used to hang proudly above the fireplace had been taken down. The only things left were a few bare nails sticking out of the drywall, acting as a ghost of what used to be there. Every single trace of my existence had been surgically removed by Jean’s own hands. My chest caved in, leaving a hollow, echoing ache. Without thinking, I murmured aloud. “This house… it’s missing so many things.” Jean stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms securely around my waist. He spoke softly into my ear. “You’re right.” “This house is missing a hostess.” “Nicole, will you marry me?” As he spoke, a flawless, glittering diamond ring appeared directly in my line of sight. Even though I knew this exact moment was coming, an uncontrollable tremor ran through my entire body. Should I say yes? If the real Nicole were standing here, she would accept it in a heartbeat, wouldn’t she? As my thoughts spun into total chaos, Jean took a step back. He held the ring up and dropped to one knee right in the middle of the living room. “Nicole, I have never been more serious.” The very next second, a dozen people poured out from the adjacent dining room and hallways. Confetti cannons popped with a loud bang, showering us in colorful paper as our friends erupted into cheers. “Say yes! Say yes!” For a fleeting, dizzying moment, I thought I had traveled back in time to the day Jean first proposed to me. Back then, we were surrounded by this exact same crowd, cheering us on, wishing us a lifetime of happiness. And Jean had spoken his vows in front of everyone, just like he was doing now. He thanked Nicole for lighting up his dark world. He thanked Nicole for dragging him out of the abyss of his grief. And he thanked Nicole for saving his son’s life. “Sarah was the love of my past, but Nicole… you are the salvation of my entire life.” “Please, marry me.” The blinding sparkle refracting off the diamond cut sharply into my eyes. I knew Nicole would say yes. I knew I was supposed to just accept it. But in that exact moment, my throat locked up. I couldn’t force a single syllable out. What kind of woman could stand there and willingly hand her own husband over to someone else? I couldn’t do it. Seeing my frozen silence, Jean’s parents stepped forward. Their eyes were red and pleading as they approached me carefully. “Nicole, honey, we know any woman would feel hesitant about marrying a widower.” “But ever since that woman passed away, Jean has been a walking corpse. You’re the first person to bring him back to life.” “As his parents, our only wish is to see our son happy. We just want him to walk out of the past and actually live again.” “Nicole, please, won’t you say yes to our family?” 4 Looking at my former mother and father-in-law, I suddenly felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Even they had completely, effortlessly accepted Nicole as the new woman of the house. Jean’s close friends gathered around, chiming in, urging me not to worry about his history. “Jean is the most fiercely loyal guy on the planet. Once he commits to someone, he loves them until the bitter end. You never have to worry about him changing his mind.” I stood rooted to the hardwood floor, completely dazed, a bitter smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. Loves them until the bitter end? Never changes his mind? Then why doesn’t he love me anymore? My fingertips turned ice-cold from the emotional pain. I knew I had to make the final call. I reached my hand out toward Jean, pulling every last ounce of strength from my bones to force the words out. “Okay. I will.” His eyes lit up like fireworks. He grabbed my hand with trembling fingers and slid the heavy diamond onto my ring finger. The metal felt incredibly weighty on my skin. Yet somewhere deep inside my chest, there was a gaping, desolate void. The crowd around us clapped and cheered, wiping away happy tears as they showered us with blessings. Toby danced around our legs in a circle, totally ecstatic. “Yay! Daddy and Mommy are getting married! I have a mommy again!” Jean swept me up into a crushing hug, laughing and crying at the exact same time. “Once you’re completely healed, we’re going to have the biggest wedding this city has ever seen.” “I promise you, I’m going to give you an unforgettable day…” I felt like a wooden puppet suspended by strings. I forced my facial muscles into a stiff, unnatural smile. “Okay…” Before the word could fully register, the heavy mahogany front doors burst violently open. Two familiar figures stormed into the entryway, screaming at Jean. “What the hell do you mean, a wedding?! We absolutely forbid it!” I jumped, my head snapping toward the entrance in total shock. Dad… Mom? Toby sprinted toward them, throwing his arms around my mother’s legs. “Grandma! Grandpa! I’m getting a new mommy!” Hearing that, my parents’ faces turned dangerously dark. “What new mommy?!” “You only have one mother in this world, and her name is Sarah!” My mother marched straight past the kid, walked right up to Jean, and slapped him directly across the face. Smack. “You were the one who insisted on dragging Sarah out on that road trip! When that drunk driver crossed the median, Sarah threw her body over yours to take the impact!” “She was our only child! She wasn’t even thirty years old! She died so you could live!” “What did you promise us at her funeral?!” “You swore you would guard her memory forever and dedicate your life to raising Toby!” “My daughter hasn’t even been in the ground for three years, and you’re already rushing to get a new wife?!” “What about my little girl? Was she nothing to you?!” “How is her spirit supposed to rest in peace watching you do this!” “I’m telling you right here, right now. If you think you’re going to remarry and bring a stepmother in to raise Toby, you’ll have to do it over my dead body!” I stared at the deep wrinkles etched into my parents’ faces, at the stark white hair framing their temples. My heart physically ached, a tearing sensation ripping through my ribs. In this entire massive, cold world, my parents were the only people left who still cared about my pain. Jean kept his head bowed, taking the abuse in total silence. He was probably replaying the horrific car crash that stole my life. His face was a mask of suffocating guilt and panic. His mother immediately stepped up, screaming right back at my mom. “My son is in the prime of his life! He mourned your daughter for years, why shouldn’t he be allowed to move on?!” “Besides, Toby needs a mother! What is so wrong with bringing a new woman into the house! Can’t you see the boy wants her here?!” “Are you trying to drive my son and my grandson into an early grave just to satisfy your own grief?!” My mother’s face turned ash-gray with fury. She pointed a trembling finger at Jean’s mother. The next second, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed. My heart completely stopped. I lunged forward, catching her before she hit the floor, screaming on pure instinct. “Mom!” In the sheer chaos of the moment, nobody seemed to catch the slip of my tongue. Nobody except Jean. His pupils dilated in sheer shock, staring down at me with an expression of total, unadulterated disbelief.

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A terrifying time loop had me trapped. I was forced to relive the same timeline over and over, all just to babysit a boy who was hellbent on throwing himself into a freezing river. I had lost count of how many times the loop reset. I was completely exhausted from trying to save him, and honestly, it seemed like he was finally getting sick of jumping too. The boy stared at me, a strange, intense light flickering in his eyes. He told me he was never going to jump again. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, absolutely terrified he might still do something stupid. I couldn’t help but ask him if he really meant it. But his next words sent a violent shiver down my spine. He told me that if he ever had to die in this lifetime, he was making damn sure he dragged me down to hell with him. Is that supposed to be romantic, or just downright terrifying? 1 At six in the evening, I jolted awake from a nightmare. Before my brain could even fully process my surroundings, I threw myself out of bed, bolted out the front door, and sprinted toward Silver Creek Park like my life depended on it. Half an hour later, a teenage boy plunged from the Silver Creek bridge into the dark water below. And I, the helpless bystander who witnessed the whole thing, would be forced to accompany him in an endless cycle of rebirth, doomed to repeat this miserable day. “Almost there. Almost there. Run, you useless legs!” I was gasping for air, spotting the boy’s slender silhouette standing by the riverbank in the distance. I made it in time. He was standing on the wrong side of the safety railing. A crowd of morbid onlookers had already gathered around him. “Move! Let me through!” I shoved my way through the sea of people, vaulted over the metal railing, and locked my arms around his waist in a death grip. “There is always a way out! Please don’t do this to yourself!” I screamed. “Did you bomb your exams? Who cares! I’ll have my family pull some strings and send you to study in Europe! Are you broke? I will literally buy you a mansion and a sports car right now. I’ll give you ten million dollars, just please do not jump!” From start to finish, the boy didn’t say a single word. He just kept trembling. There’s still a chance to talk him down, I told myself. “Are you gonna jump or what? We’ve been waiting out here forever.” “Yeah, if you’re not gonna jump, quit wasting everyone’s time! If you need a hug, go cry to your mommy!” Some middle aged guy had suddenly shoved his way to the front of the crowd. He was holding up his smartphone, recording a video, shoving the lens practically right into my face. “Shut your mouth!” I whipped my head around and roared at him. But in that split second of distraction, the boy ripped himself out of my grip and threw himself backward into the abyss. Great. Here we go again. I hopped back over the railing, snatched the phone right out of the obnoxious guy’s hands, and hurled it straight into Silver Creek. Then, putting my entire body weight into it, I slapped him across the face twice. I pointed at the stunned, red faced man and looked right at the police officer who had just arrived on the scene. “I’m jumping too. And it is entirely his fault.” Then, under the horrified gazes of the crowd, I threw myself into the water to join my tragic river boy. 2 There was no pain. Just a seamless transition back to the very beginning of the loop. I burst out of my bedroom, practically colliding with the person standing in the hallway. “Young Master, what’s the rush?” I stared at Martha. Martha stared at me. She was holding a perfectly pressed designer suit on a hanger. “The ballroom is almost fully decorated. Your friends should be arriving any minute now.” “Martha, what’s today’s date?” I demanded, my voice tight. “It’s May first. Your eighteenth birthday party, sir.” I yanked my phone out of my pocket and checked the screen. May first. A massive wave of relief washed over me. May first meant I was over a month away from the jump date on June tenth. Which meant the loop had thrown me back a whole month before he died. The very next day, I transferred to Oakridge High, the school the boy attended. Thank God he had been wearing his school uniform when he jumped, or else it would have taken me days to track him down. I pulled up the Oakridge High student forum on my phone. His face and name were plastered all over the front page. “Oakridge’s very own AP Honors student, Silas Vaughn, takes home first place in the State Math Olympiad.” Why would someone so brilliant want to end his own life? I walked into my new classroom and spotted Silas sitting in the very back row. After giving a brief introduction at the front of the class, the homeroom teacher asked where I wanted to sit. “I’ll just take that empty seat in the back row. I’m pretty tall, so I don’t want to block anyone’s view,” I said smoothly. The teacher smiled and nodded. I dropped my backpack onto the desk right next to Silas. “Hey. I’m Rowan. Looks like we’re desk mates now. Nice to meet you.” It took a moment for it to register that someone was actually sitting next to him. Silas slowly lifted his head. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. He averted his eyes. He gave a tiny, barely audible hum of acknowledgment. Alright, so he was the cold and distant type. Too bad for him, there wasn’t a single room on this earth I couldn’t warm up. For the entire morning, I talked his ear off. Even when he got up to fill his water bottle, I trailed right behind him like a persistent parasite. To be completely accurate, it was a totally one sided conversation. Silas rarely gave me the time of day, but whenever I shoved a worksheet in his face and asked for help with a math problem, he would actually take the time to explain it to me. 3 The moment the bell rang, Silas stood up. I immediately stood up too, falling into step right behind him. “I’m going to the restroom,” Silas said, turning around with a look of pure exhaustion on his face. “I know.” I waved him off casually. “I drank way too much water last period anyway. We’re both guys, what’s the big deal about going to the bathroom together?” Truth be told, I had literally just peed during the last period. My bladder was bone dry. I just wanted to stick to him like glue. What if he suddenly had a dark thought and tried to drown himself in a toilet bowl? When a guy’s mind wanders, his eyes tend to wander too. Silas was looking at me like I was an absolute psychopath. By the time I snapped out of my daze, I realized I had been staring directly at his crotch for an uncomfortably long time. “Wait, dude, I…” Silas swiftly zipped his pants, looked away, and practically sprinted out of the restroom. What? I walked back into the classroom. Silas was slumped over his desk, his face completely buried in his arms. As I sat down, I noticed the tips of his ears and the back of his neck were bright red. Was he actually shy? I couldn’t resist poking the bear. “Don’t be shy, man. We’re both dudes.” I leaned in a little closer. “Honestly, you’re packing. Biggest I’ve ever seen.” Silas didn’t lift his head, but the skin visible above his uniform collar turned a deep, furious shade of pink. He looked like a ripe cherry. It was actually kind of cute. But the consequence of teasing the quiet kid was immediate, brutal silence. For the rest of the morning, Silas completely ignored my existence. Even when I asked him for help with a question, he shut me down. “I don’t know how to do this one. Go ask someone else.” Excuse me? Who else was going to teach me a problem that the state math champion allegedly couldn’t solve? Okay, so he was genuinely pissed. 4 “I’m sorry, Silas.” The lunch bell finally rang, signaling the end of the morning classes. Silas looked at me. “Hmm.” “I shouldn’t have made that joke about your size in the bathroom.” Silas totally lost it. He aggressively shoved his books into his backpack and stormed out of the classroom. “You absolute idiot!” I slapped my forehead, questioning how my social skills had deteriorated to this pathetic level. Things would have been perfectly fine if I had just skipped that last sentence. In my past life, the very first time I ever laid eyes on Silas, he was standing on the edge of Silver Creek, ready to jump. I couldn’t stand the thought of a kid my age dying so violently, so I pushed my way to the front of the crowd to talk him down. “Can’t you see how beautiful the world is?” I had yelled. “There is nothing you can’t overcome! Think about your parents!” The second those words left my mouth, he jumped without a single trace of hesitation. From that moment on, I accompanied him through endless, miserable loops. This time, I had taken a long, hard look in the mirror. I grew up drowning in privilege, raised by parents who genuinely loved each other. I lived in the light, so I stupidly assumed the whole world was bright. When Silas jumped, I had effectively become one of his executioners. Even though my intentions were good, I was just too desperate to play the hero. I carried a heavy, sickening guilt when it came to Silas. This time, even if it wasn’t about breaking the loop for my own sanity, I desperately wanted him to live a long, safe life. “Silas, wait up!” I jogged down the hallway, finally catching up to the boy who was practically radiating heat from anger. “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. My filter is completely broken.” I stepped in front of him. “Let me buy you lunch, okay? Please forgive me.” “No need,” Silas replied flatly. “Go eat by yourself. I have things to do.” “So we’re cool? We’re still best friends?” Silas didn’t stop walking, but he finally turned his head slightly. “Hmm.” 5 Silas was late for the afternoon session. “Sorry I’m late.” He stood in the doorway, chest heaving like he had sprinted the whole way here. “Take your seat.” Teachers always turned a blind eye for the genius kids. Silas walked down the aisle toward our desk in the back. A few guys in the front row deliberately pinched their noses shut. It wasn’t until Silas sat down next to me that I caught the smell clinging to his clothes. Heavy, greasy cooking oil. “What did you eat for lunch? Smells intense,” I whispered. “I work a shift at a diner during the lunch break.” “Oh.” It was then I realized Silas’s social standing in the classroom was absolute garbage. Oakridge High was the most elite prep school in the city, and the AP Honors class was the best of the best. Whenever the bell rang, a massive crowd would gather around the desks of the top five ranking students. But Silas, the literal number one student in the city, sat in total isolation. A few times, I caught some guys whispering a couple rows ahead of us. “He literally smells like a deep fryer. It’s stinking up the whole room.” “Can someone report him to the principal? If he wants to flip burgers, he can drop out. The stench is ruining my focus.” This was blatant, targeted bullying. I was sitting mere inches from Silas, and I wasn’t bothered by it at all. There was no way a faint smell of cooking oil was reaching the front rows. They were just pissed they couldn’t beat his test scores, so they had to find a pathetic reason to attack him. “Is his family really that desperate for pocket change? Showing up smelling like a grease trap is so embarrassing.” “He has zero shame. Think about it, he’s the city valedictorian.” “I wonder if those girls from the next class who have a crush on him would run for the hills if they got a whiff of that.” “Hahahaha.” Through all of it, Silas remained dead silent. It was as if their toxic words couldn’t penetrate his skin. He just kept his head down, quietly working on his math equations. My chest tightened with anxiety. If they kept pushing him like this, what if my Silas snapped and jumped again? “If you have something to say, say it to his face! Hiding in the front row whispering like cowards is pathetic!” I barked out, my voice cutting through the classroom chatter. “Do you want me to buy you a megaphone so you can broadcast your insecurities to the whole school?” “You…” The ringleader’s face turned purple. He raised a hand, but the guy sitting next to him quickly shoved his arm down. “Forget it, man. Just drop it.” The two of them exchanged a few hushed words. The ringleader’s furious glare instantly melted into something much more submissive. It was obvious what was said. “Do you know who that is? That’s Rowan Harrington. The heir to the Harrington empire.” … I had been surrounded by spineless opportunists like them my entire life. 6 “You didn’t have to defend me.” Later that afternoon, as I followed him to the water fountain, Silas suddenly turned around. “What?” “I don’t care what they say. They can’t touch me.” How could he be this passive? The image of Silas as a tragically beautiful, broken genius burned even deeper into my mind. “But if you don’t push back, they’re only going to get worse.” Silas went silent. I was six foot one, but Silas still had half a head on me. I reached up and threw an arm around his neck, pulling him down slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back from now on.” “Okay.” Caught in the warm summer breeze, I heard Silas whisper his agreement. The closer we got to the final bell, the harder my heart hammered in my chest. During the day, I could shamelessly stick to him like glue. But at night? It wasn’t like I could crawl into his bed. Actually, wait. Yes I could. “Come to the roof with me. I need to make a call.” I grabbed Silas’s wrist and dragged him out of the classroom. Once the call connected, I deliberately put it on speakerphone. “Hey, Dad?” “What do you want?” The furious male voice on the other end was so aggressively loud I almost dropped my phone in shock. His acting was almost too good. “Dad, tonight I…” “Don’t bother coming home tonight! Your stepmother is coming over for dinner, and she gets a migraine just looking at you. Go crash in a ditch for all I care!” Wow. My best friend Finn had literally just finalized my parents’ fictional divorce. I had to admire his commitment to the bit. “Silas.” I looked up at him with wide, pathetic eyes. “My dad kicked me out. Can I crash at your place for one night?” “Your dad sounds incredibly young,” Silas noted dryly. “Ah, haha. Yeah, well, people from his generation married super early, you know?” Of course he sounded young. The guy yelling on the phone was my eighteen year old best friend. “I’ll take your silence as a yes! Dinner’s on me tonight.” “My house… is a dump. You won’t be able to handle it.” That was definitely a yes. “Why wouldn’t I be able to handle it? Honestly, my family used to be super poor too.” The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to rip my own tongue out. I was officially the most socially inept human being on the planet. Thankfully, Silas didn’t press the issue. 7 Thank God my dad was currently on a business trip in London and my mom was busy touring the vineyards in Italy. After shooting a quick text to my butler, I followed Silas home. Silas wasn’t exaggerating. His house was… extremely minimalist. There was barely any furniture, but everything was spotless. “Grandma, I’m home,” Silas called out. An elderly woman with snow white hair stepped out of the tiny kitchen. “Silas, you’re back already?” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh my, you’re early today. I haven’t even finished cooking.” “And who is this handsome young man?” “Hi, Grandma! I’m Rowan, Silas’s desk mate. I’m crashing here tonight. I’m really sorry to intrude.” “Oh, nonsense! It’s no trouble at all, sweetheart.” Silas’s grandma was incredibly warm. She even threw together an extra meat dish just for me. “Eat up, eat up. Our Silas is far too skinny. You’ve got a perfect build, Rowan. Don’t go losing any weight now.” “I won’t, I promise.” I shoveled the rice into my mouth. The food was genuinely amazing. Because it was a last minute sleepover, his grandma cleared out a small storage room and set up a cot for me. The sheets were freshly washed. They smelled like clean laundry soap. The exact same scent that lingered on Silas. I wondered what Silas was doing right now. Homework? I had already finished mine, so he had to be done by now, right? What if he was sitting in his room having dark thoughts? I sat up, lay back down, and tossed around in the sheets. My anxiety was keeping me wide awake. I had to go check on him. At one in the morning, I knocked softly on his bedroom door. “Silas, are you asleep?” I could see the light bleeding under the door crack. He was awake. A few seconds later, the door creaked open. “What is it?” “I think there are rats in that storage room. I’m freaking out. Can I sleep in here with you tonight?” Silas pushed his glasses up his nose. After a grueling thirty seconds of silence, he finally caved. “Come in.” 8 “Are you not going to sleep?” I lay on his mattress, watching the boy sitting rigidly at his desk. “In a bit.” “Okay.” I would never understand the stamina of valedictorians. Half an hour later, Silas stood up and opened his closet. He pulled out a thick quilt and a sleeping mat, spreading them out on the floor. “You’re sleeping on the floor?” I asked, bewildered. “Yeah.” “The bed is too small. It’s too hot.” “Oh.” I closed my eyes. Whatever. Once the lights were out, I tossed and turned, completely restless. “Silas, I can’t sleep. Let’s talk.” “We have to get up early tomorrow.” That was a firm rejection. “Just for a minute.” “Fine.” I thought for a second before asking the big question. “Silas, what college do you want to go to?” “Yale.” “What is the one thing you want most in the world?” I had an ulterior motive for asking this. If I knew exactly what Silas wanted, I could hand it to him on a silver platter. If he got everything he wanted, he wouldn’t jump into the river anymore. “I want a stable life. With my grandma.” That wasn’t the grandiose answer I was expecting. “What about you, Rowan?” “What do you want most?” “I want… I want you to stay alive forever.” Silas went completely silent. “Go to sleep. It’s late,” he finally whispered. 9 The days blurred together, and before I knew it, half a month had vanished. As a prestigious prep school, Oakridge High had an incredibly intense academic culture. With only a few weeks left until our final exams, almost every student in the AP Honors class voluntarily signed up for the late night study sessions. I was used to the laid back curriculum of my old international school, so the suffocating pressure was definitely a shock to my system. But Silas signed up, which meant I signed up too. I couldn’t let him out of my sight. During the break after the second evening study block, a girl called Silas out into the hallway. Separated by a single pane of glass, I eavesdropped on their entire conversation. The girl was confessing her feelings to him. Silas rejected her without a second of hesitation. “I’m sorry. I can’t return your feelings. I have absolutely no intention of dating anyone right now.” “Can we at least… start out as friends?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Sorry. I’m not good at socializing. It’s better if we don’t.” “Alright,” the girl said, swallowing her disappointment. “Well, good luck on the exams. I hope you get everything you want.” “Thanks. You too.” Silas walked back into the classroom. I suddenly realized my heart was hammering violently against my ribs. I tried to tell myself I was just panicking that if he got a girlfriend, I wouldn’t be able to stick to him twenty-four seven. “Look at our genius playing hard to get! Rejecting the absolute prettiest girl in school without blinking,” Blake sneered from the front row. “I don’t even know what she sees in him. Aside from his face, he’s a completely broke loser.” I grabbed my heavy calculus textbook and hurled it directly at Blake’s desk. “Keep your garbage mouth shut.” “Whether it’s looks or grades, you don’t even come close to Silas.” “And your personality is a total trainwreck.” The girl who just confessed to Silas was Blake’s long time crush. He had shot his shot a few days ago and got ruthlessly rejected. Now he was using Silas as a punching bag to soothe his bruised ego. Blake’s mouth snapped shut. His chest heaved as his face contorted into something genuinely vicious. He threw all caution to the wind. “Oh, right, the Harrington heir is always here to protect his little pet. You’ve got some neat tricks, Vaughn.” “Word on the street is you two are basically joined at the hip. Eating together, sleeping together. Are you guys hooking up or something?” “Wow, smart move. Hooking a trust fund kid is definitely better than smelling like grease at a local diner. Gotta respect the hustle.” I clenched my fists, fully prepared to shatter his jaw, but someone beat me to it. It was Silas.

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1 For as long as I can remember, the world has reeked of an invisible, clichéd script. Growing up, I read thousands of romance novels only to realize I was living inside a cliché myself—the kind where the toxic, powerful man torments the woman, only to spend a lifetime begging for forgiveness. I saw it everywhere: a divorced neighbor whose ex wept on her porch years later; a sweet graduate whose billionaire boyfriend used her as a cheap stand-in, then offered her his empire. Both women stared back with dead eyes and said they didn’t care. To avoid that fate, I avoided romance entirely—no angst, no toxic billionaires, no tragedy. But life has a sick sense of humor. When I was twenty-five, my healthy mother fell critically ill. The medical bills buried me in debt. While working a double shift, Manhattan’s richest tycoon approached me with an arrogant smirk. “Be my girl,” he said smoothly. “I’ll cover your mother’s bills.” His eyes sharpened. “But you’re just a substitute for Serena. Don’t dream of anything more.” I took his black Amex card, eyes lowered. I needed the money. But if he thought he’d break my heart like those tragic heroines, he was out of his mind. Later, my best friend sobbed that her boyfriend was still in love with his childhood friend. I patted her back. “Give it time,” I said. “He’ll be crying on your doorstep, begging for you back before you know it.” … The very second I got my hands on that black card, I prepaid my mother’s hospital fees for an entire year. You can never be too careful. Rich guys loved cutting off medical funds the minute their precious first loves threw a tantrum. In the sterile white hospital room, my mother gripped my hand, tears spilling over her pale cheeks. “Sienna, you have been fighting so hard. I do not want to drag you down anymore. I have lived a good life…” I squeezed her hand back, giving her a reassuring smile. “Mom, trust me. You know I hate suffering more than anything. I am not going to let anyone walk all over me.” She needed a kidney transplant. I used a massive chunk of Carter’s money to hire the best private investigators to scour the globe for a matching donor. But these things took time. In the meantime, I secretly hired elite tutors across various industries. Growing up, I was fascinated by everything from foreign languages to high finance, but we never had the money for it. Now that I had unlimited funds, I was absolutely going to milk it for all it was worth. Carter Holden was a busy man. He only summoned me twice a week. He knew I was burning through his cash on a daily basis, but he assumed I was doing what every other kept woman did, blowing it on designer bags and cosmetic procedures. To a man of his wealth, it was pocket change. He let me do whatever I wanted. This routine dragged on for over six months. Then, out of nowhere, he told me he was taking me to a private gathering with his inner circle. Carter’s friends were all top-tier elites in their fields. They looked at regular people like dirt on their shoes. The moment I stepped into the VIP lounge, I felt a dozen pairs of eyes stabbing into me, dripping with disdain and mockery. A gorgeous woman sitting in the center of the plush leather sofa let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Carter, so this is the little pet you have been keeping.” She spat the word ‘pet’ with heavy, deliberate venom. Carter acted like he did not hear the insult. He just ran his hand through my hair and chuckled. “Sienna is obedient and pretty to look at. She suits me just fine.” The group exchanged knowing glances, their smiles turning cruel. “The best part is how much she looks like Serena, right?” At the mention of that name, the light drained from Carter’s eyes. They darkened into a stormy abyss. I sat there in total silence, my expression perfectly blank as I popped a piece of melon into my mouth. Serena was his elusive first love, the one that got away. The only reason I was sitting here was because I shared her bone structure. The woman who called me a pet grabbed her martini and slid over to sit right next to me. She aggressively shoved her phone into my face, displaying an intimate, sun-drenched photo of Carter and Serena. “I bet you did not know,” she whispered poisonously. “Carter and Serena grew up together. Their families made a pact when they were kids. If Serena had not been so wild and left the country, they would probably be married with kids by now.” She took a sip of her drink, relishing my silence. “Serena went to the Ivy League. She is fluent in four languages. She won national art competitions in high school. Having a woman that perfect in his past… no man could ever forget her.” Her eyes swept over my outfit with raw disgust. “And you? A nobody from some no-name state school. I bet you cannot even string two sentences together in Spanish. Let me give you a reality check. Every single person in Carter’s circle speaks at least three languages. Including me.” It took me exactly three seconds to figure her out. She was desperately in love with Carter. She probably thought Serena’s departure was her golden ticket, only for Carter to bring a random girl off the street into his bed instead. The jealousy practically oozed from her pores. I glanced at her, muttered something rapidly under my breath, and looked away. She frowned, completely lost. “What did you just say?” I ignored her. It was nothing special. I had just called her an idiot in eight different languages. A few weeks later, Carter apparently decided that seeing me twice a week was not enough. He pulled some strings and gave me a cushy job in his executive assistant department. On my very first day, I walked into the office only to discover that the jealous martini-drinking girl was my department manager. 2 Carter told me the job was completely fake. He just wanted me around so he could look at me. I was not expected to lift a finger. My only duty was to sit there and look pretty. After a heavy make-out session against his mahogany desk, he had to rush out for a board meeting. Not five minutes later, Valerie marched over, her stilettos clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. She slammed her perfectly manicured hand on my desk. “Get up,” she ordered. “Go to Conference Room 803 right now. There is a client waiting for you.” As I turned and stepped into the elevator, a vicious smirk spread across Valerie’s lips. Two junior assistants behind her started whispering frantically. “Wait, isn’t the Russian VIP in 803 today? Word is he is incredibly difficult. Even Mr. Holden has to tread lightly around him.” “I heard his project is do-or-die for the company! Mr. Holden spent months begging him to fly out here. If Sienna messes this up and blows the deal, she is absolutely dead!” That was exactly what Valerie was banking on. Carter had specifically assigned her to host the VIP because she was the only one in the department who claimed to speak Russian. But she could not exactly tell the CEO that her ‘fluent in three languages’ flex was total garbage. She only knew a handful of basic phrases. If she went in there, she would be exposed in seconds. Throwing me to the wolves was the perfect solution. If I ruined the deal, Carter would dump me in a fit of rage, leaving the spot next to him wide open for her. She sat back at her desk, sipping her overpriced matcha latte, eagerly waiting for the explosion. The elevator pinged. The doors slid open, and I walked out alongside the terrifying Russian tycoon. The man, famous for his icy, ruthless demeanor, was practically glowing with joy. And I was chatting with him in flawless, rapid-fire Russian, making him laugh out loud. The entire department froze. Jaws hit the floor. Valerie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Her acrylic nails dug so hard into her palms they almost drew blood. Just then, she spotted Carter walking down the hallway. Panic seized her. She immediately bolted out of her chair and rushed toward us, stammering out a painful, broken greeting in Russian. Seeing Carter getting closer, she made a desperate move. She completely ignored the client’s personal space and forcefully grabbed the tycoon’s hand, trying to make it look like she was the one who had charmed him. I mentally prepared a funeral for her career. She had no idea that Dmitri was a notorious germaphobe. “What are you doing!” Dmitri ripped his hand away violently, his chest heaving with sheer disgust. “I did not realize this company employed such ill-mannered, offensive people!” Carter’s face went completely pale. He rushed forward, offering a barrage of apologies. But Dmitri was furious. He demanded his coat and threatened to walk out. Sweat beaded on Carter’s forehead. If this deal fell through, half of the company’s projects for the year would be scrapped. They would lose billions. He shot Valerie a glare so cold it could freeze hell. Valerie trembled, the color draining from her face as her knees gave out. She slumped against a desk. Just as Carter was running out of options, I took a half-step forward, smiled warmly, and whispered something quietly into Dmitri’s ear. The raging fire in the tycoon’s eyes instantly softened. Carter stared at me in absolute shock. My Russian was not just passable, it was native-level perfect. After a few more exchanges, Dmitri’s anger completely evaporated. He looked at Carter and announced that he would sign the contract, but on one strict condition. Every single detail of the project had to go through me. Carter let out a breath he had been holding for five minutes and smiled. He promised it would not be a problem. He thought the deal was dead and buried. He never expected me to revive it with a few well-placed sentences. Before seeing Dmitri to his car, Carter cast a deep, lingering look at me. It was a mix of intense pride and a spark of genuine awe. Five minutes later, my phone buzzed. Carter: Thank you. Me: Don’t mention it. I did not text back the part where I thought, ‘Well, I paid for the tutor with your money anyway.’ The rest of the staff swarmed my desk, gushing about how I had saved the company and how a massive promotion was definitely coming my way. Carter had kept our real relationship a secret, so none of them knew I was his paid girlfriend. Valerie, however, scoffed loudly from across the room. “Do not get a big head just because you memorized a few party tricks to make a client laugh. Trash is still trash. Do not actually think you can fake your way to the top.” The very next morning, Carter called a department meeting. He announced that effective immediately, I was replacing Valerie as the head of the executive assistant department. Valerie lost her mind. “Mr. Holden! She is a community college dropout! On what grounds?!” She had a degree from Europe, for God’s sake! Carter stared her down and fired off a flawless sentence in Russian. Valerie stood there, blinking in blank confusion. I smoothly translated his sentence, replying in the same language. Carter arched an eyebrow at her. “On those grounds.” After Carter left, Valerie stormed over to my desk, her face twisted in bitter hatred. “Let me tell you something,” she hissed. “Serena is coming back to the States soon. Enjoy this while it lasts. We will see how smug you are when she gets here!” The pen in my hand snapped in half, black ink spilling across the paperwork. I needed to find that kidney donor. Fast. 3 Maybe I was being paranoid, but it felt like Carter was finding excuses to summon me more and more lately. He needed coffee, but I had to be the one to pour it. He lost a file, and I had to help him tear his office apart looking for it. His tie was crooked, and my hands had to be the ones to fix it. After being called into his office for the fifth time before noon over absolute nonsense, I finally lost my patience. “Mr. Holden, I actually have work to do.” Carter grabbed my wrist, giving it a gentle tug. The next thing I knew, I was sitting sideways on his lap. He played with my fingers, his breath ghosting over my neck as he leaned in. “Work? I thought I made it clear when you started. You do not have to…” “I have to reply to Dmitri’s emails,” I interrupted smoothly. “If I keep him waiting, he is going to get cranky.” His face froze inches from mine. A deeply annoyed pout formed on his lips. “You spend more time with Dmitri these days than you do with me.” “He is your biggest investor, babe. I am working this hard for you.” I had to keep the man signing the checks happy. My mother’s kidney was still floating out there in the ether somewhere. That answer pleased him. The annoyance vanished, replaced by a warm gaze. He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned in for a kiss. Suddenly, his cell phone rang, shattering the quiet intimacy. Before I could even glance at the caller ID, Carter had already snatched the phone off the desk. A second later, his hands dropped from my waist. He gently pushed me off his lap. “Give me a minute,” he said, his voice strangely tight. I glanced back right before I closed his office door. The moment he answered the call, a radiant, uncontrollable smile broke across his face. A heavy, dull ache hit the bottom of my stomach, but I buried it instantly. I walked back to my desk. Valerie was already waiting, leaning against my cubicle with a sickeningly triumphant grin. “Soak it all in,” she whispered maliciously. “Your fairy tale is over.” Right on cue, Carter threw his office door open and sprinted toward the VIP elevator without looking left or right. Valerie’s grin widened, her eyes gleaming with schadenfreude. She turned to walk away, fully expecting me to break down. Instead, I called her name. She paused, lifting an eyebrow, probably thinking I was finally going to beg her for details. I picked up a massive stack of quarterly reports and dropped them heavily into her arms. “I need these audited by five.” Valerie gaped at me. “Are you insane? There is no way I can finish this by five!” I gave her a sickeningly sweet smile. “You seem to have a lot of free time on your hands.” “If you fail to meet the deadline, I will be having a chat with Mr. Holden about transferring you to the janitorial department.” She ground her teeth so hard I thought they would shatter, but she had no choice. She snatched the folders and stomped back to her desk. By the time I finished my own work, the clock read past nine. I was the ultimate corporate workhorse. Carter definitely owed me a raise. When I finally unlocked the door to his penthouse, I froze in the entryway. Every light in the house was blazing. A pair of unfamiliar, ridiculously expensive designer heels sat on the rug. My stomach dropped. I knew exactly what was happening. As I debated whether to just turn around and book a hotel, a soft, melodic voice echoed from the living room. “You must be Sienna.” I looked up and locked eyes with the woman standing there. It was Serena. No wonder Carter smiled like he had won the lottery. No wonder he ran out of the office like the building was on fire. No wonder Valerie was practically dancing at my desk. The elusive first love had finally returned to claim her throne. Serena smiled at me, her aura perfectly graceful and completely devoid of malice. “You must be the new housekeeper Carter hired,” she said gently. “You have been working so hard. Thank you.” Her smile was flawless. She seemed like an angel. But I knew how this twisted universe operated. I braced myself. Right on cue, the sound of Carter’s heavy footsteps echoed from the top of the stairs. The moment Serena heard him approaching, she closed the distance between us, raised her own hand, and viciously slapped herself across the face. She let out a piercing shriek. “Ah!” Carter practically flew down the stairs. Seeing the violent red handprint on Serena’s pale cheek, his face twisted in panic. “What happened?!” “N-Nothing,” Serena stammered, tears immediately welling in her doe eyes. “I think Sienna misunderstood why I am here. Sienna, I am so, so sorry!” A single, perfect tear rolled down her cheek. Carter froze. He turned to me, his voice dangerously low. “Did you hit her?” I knew the script. In these stories, the billionaire always blindly believes the childhood sweetheart. Defending myself was a waste of breath. So, I fully leaned into the villain role. I nodded, picked my purse back up, and headed for the door. “Yup. Sure did. Slapped the taste right out of her mouth. She had the audacity to step into the room with her left foot first.” Carter looked at Serena, then back at me. Without missing a beat, he said, “From now on, you walk into rooms with your right foot first. Or I am docking your pay for the month.” Serena’s eyes widened in sheer shock. She looked at him like he had grown a second head. I blinked at him, genuinely startled. But I figured he was just making a weird joke and dismissed it. I did not want to breathe the same air as them anymore. I pushed the door open and walked out into the cold night. Because I left so fast, I completely missed the flash of desperate panic in Carter’s eyes. I was walking down the pavement, scrolling through my phone for a nearby hotel, when a notification banner popped up on my screen. Miss Sienna, we found a perfect match for the kidney! 4 I moved with lightning speed, getting my mother into the surgical ward and prepping her for the transplant. I strictly warned the hospital staff and my private investigators to make sure Carter did not find out about any of it. It was surprisingly easy. Carter had practically moved in with Serena. He had not shown his face at the corporate office for days. He did not even notice that I had submitted a formal request for a week of paid time off. When the surgery was finally over and the doctors declared it a success, I slumped into a hospital chair and let out a massive, shuddering breath. It was finally over. This pathetic, suffocating game of pretending to be a billionaire’s pet was done. I was spoon-feeding my mother soup when my phone vibrated. A text from Carter. Carter: You are not at the office? Me: I put in for PTO, Mr. Holden. Taking some well-deserved vacation days. My phone instantly rang. I stepped out into the hallway to answer it. “Where are you.” His voice was low, demanding. I obviously could not tell him I was at the hospital, so I named a random upscale café downtown. He said he was coming to pick me up. I had no choice but to sprint out of the hospital, hail a cab, and beat him there. The second he saw me standing on the corner, Carter strode over and pulled me into a crushing hug. My body stiffened instantly. A line from one of those trashy romance novels flashed through my mind: The man pulled me into his embrace, but the suffocating scent of the other woman’s perfume clung to his collar, making my stomach churn. I tentatively sniffed his coat, fully expecting the scent of Chanel No. 5. Instead, I smelled something entirely different. Just… faint sweat. He noticed the slight wrinkle in my nose and sighed, looking exhausted. “Do not look at me like that. I drove straight here the second I realized you were gone. I did not even have time to shower.” I nodded, pretending to understand. But my mind was clear. I was just the sugar baby. I was not worth the effort of getting cleaned up. If he were going to see Serena, he would have shown up looking like he stepped out of a GQ magazine. “Sienna,” he said suddenly, his grip tightening on my waist. “I am hosting a banquet this Saturday. You have to be there.” I lowered my eyes to hide my thoughts. How poetic. Saturday was the exact day my mother was being discharged. It was the day I planned to vanish from his life. I figured I might as well go. One last appearance to say goodbye to the man who funded my mother’s life. When Saturday arrived, I walked into the glittering ballroom in a simple black dress. Almost immediately, Valerie appeared, clinging to Serena’s arm like a loyal guard dog. They marched straight toward me. “I cannot believe you actually showed your face,” Valerie sneered loudly. “Do you have zero shame?” “Do you even know what tonight is?” Valerie’s lips curled into a vicious, blood-red smile. Her eyes danced with cruel excitement. “Tonight is Serena’s birthday bash. Carter threw this entire party just for her. Did you come here specifically to humiliate yourself?” Serena looked at me with those wide, innocent eyes. She took a step forward and reached out to grab my hands. “Sienna, I am so sorry. I found out you are not actually his maid. Please do not hold a grudge over what happened the other night.” Before I could even attempt to pull my hands away. A sharp, calculating glint flashed through Serena’s eyes. Without warning, she threw her entire body weight backward. CRASH! She slammed directly into a towering, seven-tier champagne fountain. Crystal shattered everywhere, alcohol raining down on the marble floor. The music stopped. Hundreds of wealthy guests whipped their heads around in shock. Carter pushed through the crowd, his face tense as he rushed toward the mess. “What the hell is going on?!” Valerie immediately burst into fake, hysterical tears, pointing a trembling finger right at my face. “It was Sienna! She shoved Serena right into the glass!” Vicious whispers instantly ripped through the ballroom. “Who does she think she is, putting her hands on Serena?” “That is just Carter’s little kept woman. His sugar baby.” “Trash always acts like trash. She actually thought she was special.” “Watch this. Carter is going to destroy her for hurting Serena.” The suffocating wave of insults and curses grated against my ears, burning through the absolute last shred of patience I had left. I looked at Carter. His hands were gripping Serena’s shoulders to keep her steady. His brow was furrowed, a dark storm brewing in his eyes. He looked furious. I let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. My phone buzzed in my purse. Miss Sienna, the discharge papers are signed. We are ready to go. I gripped my phone tightly, turned on my heel, and started walking toward the exit. I had barely taken a single step when Carter’s voice cut through the massive ballroom, cold and commanding. “We will see what really happened when I pull the security footage.” I froze in my tracks, turning back to stare at him in pure bewilderment.

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