My wife’s “personal financial advisor” had another meltdown. This time, he tried to slit his wrists because I spent fifteen dollars on an Uber for my wife’s medicine without reporting it to him. He felt disrespected. He resigned that night. To appease him, my wife Victoria told me to pack and leave with nothing, handing me new divorce papers. “Don’t worry, darling, it’s just for show,” she cooed. “You’re the only man I love. We’ll remarry once Scott calms down.” I looked at her calmly. “Are you sure? This will be the ninth time.” My seven-year-old daughter Mindy kicked my legs. “You pathetic kept man! You did wrong—you deserve this!” As they wanted, I signed. Again. That evening, Scott posted online: “Some people finally know their place. Here’s a little family portrait as a reward.~” Victoria sighed in relief and excitedly called my phone. “Darling, Scott forgave you! We can remarry!” But a woman’s soft, seductive voice answered: “Sorry, your husband was a bit rough with me in bed. He’s showering now…” 01 Victoria’s breath hitched. “Who is this? What are you doing?” Her voice was a low growl, a caged animal about to pounce. The woman on the other end just chuckled softly and hung up. Victoria went ballistic. She mobilized every resource at her disposal and, in just fifteen minutes, she was standing in front of me. “I’m so sorry, darling. It was all my fault.” She threw her arms around me, her eyes wide with a fear I hadn’t seen in years. “I know you’re jealous. You hired someone to act this out just to scare me, didn’t you?” “Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson! For real this time! Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear me?” “I wasn’t trying to scare you,” I said, gently pushing her away. I looked her straight in the eye. “We’re divorced.” Victoria paused, then her face melted into a practiced pout. “Oh, come on. My husband is the most forgiving man in the world. Don’t be angry. I know what you want… the official apology tour, right? I came prepared…” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key to a Panamera. A car I used to dream about. “I really, really know I messed up,” she crooned, pressing the key into my hand. “You’ve already forgiven me nine times, and I still pushed my luck? I’m the worst!” “But I promise, honey, this is the absolute last time! For Mindy’s sake, can you just give me one more chance? Please?” Just then, Mindy ran over and gave me a huge hug. “Daddy, don’t go! I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said those things. Mommy already punished me for it.” “Please, just give me and Mommy one more chance.” My usually defiant daughter was looking at me with such pitiful eyes. Even a heart of stone would have started to soften. And it wasn’t just them. Suddenly, the room was filled with friends and family. Each of them held a velvet box, and inside each box was a key to a luxury car. There were also folders containing stock certificates, property deeds, and more. “Wow, Victoria, you’ve really outdone yourself! The line of supercars outside looks like an auto show!” “Forget the cars, look at that! Company shares! Do you know what that means?” “Say yes! Marry her again!” Seeing my hesitation, Victoria grew anxious. “David, I know you’ve always wanted to go to Provence. I’ve already booked the flights. Just say the word, and we can leave right now.” “Daddy, I want to go on a trip! Please, please say yes to Mommy!” Mother and daughter stared at me with identical, pleading puppy-dog eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but another voice cut through the air—a petulant, angry male voice from the doorway. 02 “Victoria! Why did you spend all this money without telling me? I’ve never gotten this many gifts from you! How could you just buy all this for him?” “I knew it! You were lying when you said you wanted me to manage the household finances… I’m done. I’m never helping you again!” Victoria’s face went pale. She spotted Scott in the crowd, immediately dropped my hand, and ran after him. “Scott, don’t be angry! Let me explain.” Someone in the crowd called out, “Hey, Victoria, what about the remarriage?” She shot back without a second glance, her voice dripping with irritation. “Remarry? Get your priorities straight.” She didn’t even spare me a look as she disappeared after him. The crowd quietly packed up their gift boxes, their expressions shifting to amusement. “Well, I guess Scott still comes first.” “The way Victoria was acting, I almost thought she was serious this time!” Mindy’s sweet demeanor vanished. She looked up at me with a smug grin. “Mommy only promised me a new dress if I came. That’s the only reason I bothered.” “I thought we might have to humor you for a few days, but I guess Uncle Scott is more important. You lose again, kept man!” “It’s all your fault Uncle Scott gets angry all the time. Maybe I should take all these gifts and give them to him to make him feel better.” Less than two hours later, a vlog titled “Billionaire Family Flex” was trending. The video showed a courtyard filled with luxury cars. Victoria was clinging to Scott’s arm, whining and pleading. Scott, looking aloof, finally cracked a smile as Mindy showered him with compliments, calling him “Daddy.” The comments poured in. [OMG! Are supercars on sale now? I can’t even afford the model versions!] [I counted. 101 cars. As in, ‘one in a hundred million’? I’m shipping this so hard!] In the past, a scene like this would have sent me into a spiral of panic and despair. Does Victoria still love me? Is my daughter being led astray? It always ended in endless arguments and emotional exhaustion. But now, watching this, I felt an unexpected calm. I liked Scott’s post, then I deleted every single one of their numbers from my phone. From now on, I was done with them. 03 Just then, Catherine, who had gone out to grab us a late-night snack, returned. “What happened? Don’t tell me you passed out from hunger again.” I shook my head, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. She handed me a container of warm soup and then mentioned, almost as an afterthought, “By the way, someone called your phone while you were asleep. She sounded pretty aggressive, so I just hung up. I hope it wasn’t anything important?” I knew exactly who she was talking about. “Just a spam call. I’ve already blocked the number.” I didn’t notice the slight upward curl of her lips as I finished the soup and began to pack. There wasn’t much to take. Ten years of marriage had boiled down to a few scattered pieces of clothing and personal items. I calmly booked a one-way flight out of the country, leaving in three days. This time, I wasn’t coming back. But there was one last thing I had to do. The next day, I went to an auction house. There was a time when my acting career was taking off. But Victoria didn’t want to be a housewife; she wanted a career of her own. So I retired, staying home to raise our daughter. Starting a business is hard, especially with no capital. When she was at her wit’s end, I pawned the antique locket my father had left me. It was a family heirloom. By the time we could afford to buy it back, the pawn shop had closed, and the locket was gone. Until now. I’d recently heard it was up for auction. As I walked in, someone called my name. “David, what are you doing here?” It was Scott. Behind him stood a few of our old, mutual friends. “Isn’t it obvious?” one of them sneered. “He must have heard Victoria was going to be here and came chasing after her.” “Weren’t you putting on a big show about not remarrying yesterday? What an act.” “Come on, David,” another one said, trying to pull me over. “Just apologize to Scott and let’s move past this.” I yanked my arm away. “Apologize to her boy toy?” I let out a short, bitter laugh. “I took an Uber to bring my wife medicine. What exactly did I do wrong?” I sacrificed my career to be a stay-at-home father. Victoria swore she would never forget what I’d done for her. And now? Now I was treated worse than Scott’s dog. My spending was monitored, and I had to report every dime to a man who had no business in my marriage. For the sake of my family, I had endured it. But now, even my own daughter had turned against me. I was done with both of them. Ignoring them, I found my seat. The auction was about to begin. A few minutes later, I saw Scott pouting at Victoria, who had just returned from networking. “Victoria, where have you been? You promised you’d protect me! How can you let this man walk all over me, again and again?” Victoria’s heart practically melted. “I’m sorry I’m late, sweetie. What can I get you to make it up to you?” “I want that antique locket! If you don’t buy it for me, I’m never speaking to you again!” My eyes shot to the stage. The item currently being displayed was the very locket I had come for. I immediately raised my paddle. “One hundred thousand.” It was twenty thousand more than the previous bid. No one else was going to overpay for an outdated piece of jewelry. But then I saw Victoria raise her paddle without a second thought. I turned in my seat. “Victoria, I left with nothing. How much more are you going to take from me? When we had nothing, you promised you would get my father’s locket back for me! Look at it! This isn’t some toy for you to appease your lover!” Victoria froze, her hand hovering in the air. A flash of shock crossed her face. She wasn’t used to me speaking to her this way. But finally, she lowered her paddle. The auctioneer’s voice echoed in the hall. “One hundred thousand going once… One hundred thousand going twice…” Scott was frantic. “Victoria, bid! What are you doing? Is it him or me?” Tears welled in his eyes, ready to spill over at a moment’s notice. Victoria looked at me, then at Scott. Her expression hardened. I laughed to myself, a hollow, self-deprecating sound. Of course. How could I, the washed-up ex-husband, ever compare to her precious lover? I was about to get up and leave, but then I heard Victoria’s voice, firm and clear. “Let it go, Scott. Let him have it. We don’t want it.” 04 Scott’s eyes went wide. The auctioneer’s gavel came down with a sharp crack. “One hundred thousand, sold! Congratulations to the gentleman in row seven.” A spotlight hit me. Scott, unable to take it, stormed out of the room. “Fine, Victoria! If you’re going to side with him, then you can have him!” I never expected Victoria to choose me in that moment. But that was all it was. A moment. I felt no thrill, no gratitude. This was something she owed me. In all our years of marriage, I had never gained anything from her. In fact, I had poured my own money, my own inheritance, into her dream. And now? I’d been kicked out with nothing, and the hundred thousand dollars I’d just spent had been borrowed. If she could be this heartless, then she couldn’t blame me for what came next. As the auction moved to its final item, I noticed that Scott and Victoria had returned. He shot me a provocative glare. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. The auctioneer’s voice boomed with excitement. “And now, for our final, exclusive item of the evening! A collection of ninety-nine provocative photos of the once-famous, award-winning actor, David Vance, with ninety-nine different unknown models!” The room erupted in gasps and whispers, but everyone craned their necks to get a better look at the explicit images displayed on the screen. “Holy hell, are we even allowed to see this?” “They call it a ‘photo collection,’ but these are just cheating pics, aren’t they?” “Whoa, look at that position… that’s wild! He was really getting around. No wonder Victoria kept taking him back even after divorcing him…” “Looking at this, maybe there was a good reason she kept divorcing him!” “A scumbag like that should be castrated!” Every word was a dagger in my ear. My hands clenched into fists, my face draining of all color. 05 To appease her lover, Victoria was willing to gamble away my reputation. I had told her I wanted to make a comeback. But if these photos got out, my career would be over before it even began. Victoria looked at Scott, her eyes soft. “A little apology gift for you, Scott. Do you like it?” A smirk played on his lips. “Of course I do. Well played, Victoria.” “Alright, I suppose I can be merciful and forgive you this time.” Victoria hugged him, cooing, “Thank you, sweetie. You’re so forgiving.” Scott turned his head away proudly and petulantly. “One thing at a time. He still hasn’t apologized to me.” Victoria understood instantly. She had her bodyguards drag me in front of Scott. “David. Apologize.” I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, telling myself not to cry, that these people weren’t worth my tears. But my eyes burned anyway. “And if I say no?” Scott kicked me, hard. A blinding flash of pain erupted between my legs, and I collapsed, convulsing on the floor. “If you don’t apologize,” he sneered, “I’ll let all your old fans see how I deal with a piece of trash like you.” “With these photos, public opinion will be on my side.” He leaned in closer. “Or maybe… I should just have that thing of yours cut off. Then you wouldn’t dare try to compete with me again.” He took one of the printed photos and slapped it against my cheek. I laughed, a cold, ragged sound. Fighting through the agony, I forced myself up and kicked him back with all my might. “Aaargh!” he shrieked, a sound of pure agony and hatred. “The same goes for you!” I spat. “Let’s see who’s really competing for what rightfully belongs to someone else!” Victoria’s face contorted with rage. She lunged forward and kicked me in the stomach, the heel of her shoe digging into my flesh, leaving a mark. “That’s enough, David! My patience has its limits! I gave you a chance, and you threw it away. Don’t blame me for being cruel!” With a flick of her wrist, she sent the photos flying, scattering them across the auction hall like confetti. At the same time, her bodyguards approached me, surgical scalpels glinting in their hands. People scrambled to grab the photos. Within minutes, they were all over the internet. “A kept man and a cheater? Why haven’t they executed him already?” “I can’t believe he used to have so many fans. It’s so embarrassing to have ever supported him.” “Look how small it is. He’s got nothing going for him. What did those women even see in him?” The words were like swords, trying to cut me down. Victoria held Scott, looking down at me from her pedestal. “Still not going to apologize?” I laughed. Instead of apologizing, I struggled back to my feet. A flicker of confusion crossed Victoria’s face. She couldn’t understand why I was being so stubborn. In the past, a single look from her was enough to make me bow my head, whether I was wrong or not. Why was I fighting back so hard this time? Ignoring the whispers, I stood tall and straight, a cold smile on my face. “You know damn well who the real cheater is. My conscience is clear. I’m not afraid of what people say. So unless you’re going to kill me right now, I will spend the rest of my life proving my innocence.” “Do you have any other tricks up your sleeve? If not, I’m leaving.” The hall fell into another stunned silence. But this time, it wasn’t filled with mockery and scorn. It was filled with a grudging respect. Victoria, however, was panicking. She could sense that this time, I was serious. If she didn’t do something, I was really going to walk away. Forever. She took a step forward, about to speak, when a group of professional bodyguards stormed into the room and formed a protective circle around me. “I’m sorry I’m late, David.”

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On a road trip through the Rockies, my brother Mark and his wife Jess urged their son Leo to feed Flamin’ Hot Cheetos to a grizzly bear. They roared with laughter at the bear’s clumsy reaction to the spice and posted the video online. It went viral overnight, gaining over a million views. Suddenly dreaming of becoming influencers, they actively sought out grizzlies to feed the next day. To my horror, I realized the “docile, bumbling” bear entertaining them was the exact same one from yesterday. Peering through the car window, I saw the grizzly chomping snacks, slobber dripping. Its goofy manner stood out, captivating my brother’s family as they filmed endlessly. After more chips, the bear waved its paws, mouth open and tongue out—absurdly cute, sending them into giggles again. Mark repositioned for a better angle: “Leo, get closer! Big smile!” Jess added, “Give it another. We need more footage from different angles to edit later.” We’d stopped to feed this bear multiple times without issue, but dread tightened in my stomach. I rewatched last night’s video on my phone: This grizzly was unique—not just its mannerisms, but the distinct silver-gray patch on its neck matched perfectly. There was no doubt. It was the same bear. Yesterday, it had been the same routine. The grizzly had stared intently at my brother’s family, eagerly accepting any and all snacks, chewing with a sloppy gusto as drool pooled on the ground. The comment section was flooded. “I’ve never seen a grizzly with such a case of the munchies!” “This bear is such a glutton! So adorable!” Perhaps my stare was too intense. After gulping down another handful of crackers, the bear’s two beady black eyes swiveled in my direction. A jolt of fear shot through me. I quickly rolled up the window, turned away, and pressed my back against the seat, taking a deep breath. Just to be safe, I locked the doors again. Something was off about this grizzly. It was behaving… too harmlessly. It was like a well-trained circus animal performing for a crowd, knowing exactly which expressions and movements would delight its human audience. I turned to our guide. “Cody, how much farther to the next campsite?” Cody glanced back from the driver’s seat. “Not far. Maybe another thirty miles.” “What? That close? You don’t think… these bears will follow us, do you?” My panicked tone seemed to amuse him, and he let out a hearty laugh. “No way. Grizzlies only chase prey for a hundred feet, tops. They give up pretty quick.” Seeing the worry still etched on my face, he added, “Relax. The site is perfectly safe. I’ve taken dozens of groups there. Never had a single problem.” I did a quick search on my phone. Grizzlies can sprint over 30 miles per hour, with a home range that can exceed 600 square miles. Cody was right; they rarely engage in prolonged pursuits of prey. If their target escapes that initial short-range burst, they usually lose interest. But what if this bear was different? We’d seen plenty of other wildlife on this trip. Food didn’t seem to be scarce for the bear population here. So why would this one follow us for a full day and night, over such a distance, just for a few bags of junk food? No, that couldn’t be it. Human food might be an easy meal, but for a seven-foot-tall grizzly, it was barely an appetizer. Plenty of tourists driving through these parks stop to feed the bears. There was no reason for it to single us out. Unless… we weren’t just a source of snacks. Unless we were the prey it was stalking. After my persistent urging, my brother and his family finally, reluctantly, got back in the car. The moment he was inside, Leo kicked my seat. “What’s the rush? It’s your fault! I wasn’t done feeding the bear!” Jess shot me a contemptuous look over the seat. “What’s the matter, Rachel? Jealous that we’re finally getting some attention?” She then turned to my brother with a dramatic pout. “Honey, you know who hates to see you succeed? The people you think are closest to you. They just can’t stand to see you doing better than them.” I opened my mouth to explain, but Mark cut me off. “Rachel, can’t you just be happy for me for once? Have you already forgotten who defended you when that bigger kid from down the street used to bully you?” Of course, I hadn’t forgotten. But his memory was selective. He’d conveniently forgotten that the kid only bullied me because Mark had stolen his new toy in the first place. This wasn’t the time to argue about the past, however. I quickly explained my discovery about the bear. They brushed it off, accusing me of making a big deal out of nothing. Cody, our guide, did lean over to glance at the comparison photos on my phone. “Huh, they do look alike. But there are a lot of grizzlies around here. It’s not crazy to think a couple of them might look similar.” Seeing that no one believed me, I made a direct appeal. “For safety’s sake, I think we should cancel the stargazing campout tonight. I checked the map—there’s a lodge about a hundred and fifty miles from here.” Jess shrieked. “No way! The stargazing campout is the one thing I’ve been looking forward to on this whole trip. We are not canceling it.” Mark scowled at me. “You’re always making things difficult. The professional guide says it’s fine. You think you, a first-timer out here, know better than him?” That’s when Leo completely lost it. He twisted around in his seat and, before I could react, grabbed a fistful of my hair. “We’re going camping! You useless leech! You used our money for this trip, and now you’re trying to ruin it! Why don’t you just die!” The little monster was stronger than he looked. The sudden, sharp pain as he nearly ripped my hair from my scalp was the last straw. A flood of frustration from the entire trip, stimulated by the pain, surged through me. I let out a roar and dug my nails deep into his arm, finally breaking his grip. Leo stared at me, his eyes wide with shock at my bloodshot glare, the pain in his arm registering a second later. He burst into tears. Jess, who had been ignoring the whole thing, instantly wrapped her arms around her son, turning on me. “He’s just a child! How could you, a grown woman, get into a fight with a kid?” she screeched. “What kind of an aunt are you? You have such a cruel heart, attacking an eight-year-old boy like that. Are you even human?” Her voice cracked with faux tears as she continued her tirade. “I never lay a hand on him, not even when he misbehaves, and you just attack him! Honey, look! She practically tore the skin off his arm!” From the passenger seat, my brother turned and glared at me, his eyes burning with rage. If Cody hadn’t been between us, I’m sure he would have hit me. “Rachel, I swear, if Leo is seriously hurt, I’ll make you regret it.” This trip had been my idea, a naive attempt to mend my fractured relationship with my brother and his wife. But it had been nothing but a string of conflicts. The thought of our parents, however, always made me back down, made me swallow my pride. But this time, I decided to respect their choices, and their fate. “If you’re not going to the lodge, then I’ll go by myself.” Mark immediately shut me down. “No. We only have one car. How would that work?” “You could have Cody drop you all at the campsite, then he can take me to the lodge and come back for you.” “That’s not happening either!” Jess snapped. “After the campout, we’re heading to the next scenic spot, which is in the opposite direction of your lodge. And why should we waste all that time just because of you?” Her tone shifted to one of suspicion. “The place you picked is so far from the campsite. What if the car doesn’t come back? What are the three of us supposed to do, stranded in the middle of nowhere?” She glared at me, her voice dripping with venom. “I see what you’re doing. You’re hoping something happens to us, aren’t you? What is wrong with you? I knew it! Inviting us on this trip… it was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. You had an ulterior motive all along.” In the end, it was three against one. I was forced to go with them to the campsite. But I refused to get out of the car. I locked the doors, clutched my backpack, and stayed put in the driver’s seat. The night sky over the Rockies was, admittedly, breathtaking. Tonight, my brother’s livestream was more popular than ever. A photo of Leo feeding the grizzly spicy chips was trending. They regaled their audience with tales of their “tame” grizzly friend, inspiring a wave of wannabe adventurers. Some viewers were already planning their own trips. “The Rockies are so beautiful! I can’t wait, I’m booking my flight tomorrow to find my own grizzly buddy!” “Wait for me, baby grizzly! Auntie is coming to the Rockies tomorrow with lots of yummy treats!” I frantically typed in the comments, pleading with people not to take the risk, reminding them that grizzlies are omnivores and that attacks in the region were not uncommon. I begged them not to feed wild animals. But my warnings were quickly drowned out by a tide of mockery and praise for my brother’s “bravery.” Exhausted after a long night of performing for their online audience, the three of them finally retired to their tent and fell into a deep sleep. The wilderness fell silent around me. As I gazed up at the star-dusted canvas above, my own eyelids grew heavy. Just then, the car’s headlights flashed twice. Someone had pressed the lock button on the key fob. I sat bolt upright. There were only two keys to this SUV. One was in Mark’s pocket; the other was with Cody, our guide. Neither of them would play a childish prank like this. The only person who would was Leo. I peered through the window toward their tent. It was silent and dark beside the dying embers of the campfire. If it had been Leo, he wouldn’t have been able to resist gloating by now. Click. It was the sound of a door handle being pulled. The door held, but only because it was locked. A terrifying premonition washed over me. I pressed my thumb down hard on the lock button on the armrest, while silently sliding my body down into the footwell of the driver’s seat. Click. Another soft sound. My heart hammered against my ribs. I stabbed the lock button again. Someone had just used the key to unlock the car, and the interior light had flicked on. The person outside tried the driver’s side door again. It didn’t open. Suddenly, a grizzly’s face pressed flat against the window, its beady black eyes scanning the car’s interior. Huddled beneath the steering wheel, shielded only by my backpack, my heart threatened to beat its way out of my chest. I prayed the bear hadn’t seen me. I sent a quick text to both my brother and our guide, Cody. 【BE CAREFUL. BEAR OUTSIDE THE TENT!】 Ding! Doo-doop! Two distinct notification sounds chirped in the dead silence of the night. One came from the direction of the tent. My brother’s phone. The other came from just outside the car, in the opposite direction of the tent. Cody’s. My hand tightened around my phone as the screen went dark. The last flicker of hope died within me. When I’d heard those strange locking and unlocking sounds, I’d suspected Cody might be in trouble. I hadn’t seen him since late evening and had just assumed he was resting in his own tent. Who would have guessed that the most experienced member of our group, the local guide, would be the first to fall? I had clung to a sliver of hope that maybe he’d just dropped the key and a bear had found it. Now, there was no other possibility. The same grizzly was now on the hood of the car. A colossal shadow blotted out the windshield. The bear was perched right there, peering inside. I curled myself into an even tighter ball beneath the steering wheel, not daring to move a muscle. Just then, voices came from the tent. My brother and sister-in-law had spotted the bear outside. But their reaction wasn’t fear. It was excitement. Jess’s distinct, high-pitched voice cut through the night air. “Honey, this is perfect! I can’t believe there’s a grizzly here, too. We’ve got more content!” she squealed. “We can shoot a ‘Bonfire Party with a Grizzly Under the Stars’ video! I bet you anything that if we post this, it’ll blow up.” The thought of her future as a wealthy influencer made her voice tremble with excitement. She urged Leo to open all the snack bags and lure the bear closer to the campfire. Their successful, consequence-free interactions with the bear all day had made them forget a fundamental truth: bears are apex predators. For the sake of a viral video, they were casually discarding their own safety, getting dangerously close. They had no idea what a fatal decision they were making. Catching the scent of the snacks, the bear by the tent first lifted its nose to the air, then began to move clumsily, hesitantly, toward them. The campfire seemed to make it cautious. Its tentative approach only made my brother’s family laugh harder. “It’s okay, big guy, we won’t hurt you,” Jess cooed. Leo even pulled out a piece of beef jerky, holding it out toward the bear. “Here, bear bear! Come get the yummy food!” The commotion over there caught the attention of the bear on my car. It hopped off the hood and began to sneak up behind my brother, who had his back to us, trying to find the perfect angle to film Jess and Leo. They were in extreme danger. I immediately called Mark’s phone, wanting to scream at them to get to the car. He declined the call and kept filming. And then, it happened.

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The moment my roommate found out I was a billionaire’s daughter, everything changed. When my dad’s monthly transfer of twenty thousand dollars hit my account, the snide comments from my roommate, Zoe, would begin. “What’s a girl like you need all that money for?” “The company’s going to your brother eventually, you know. You keep blowing money like this, and you’ll be kicked to the curb!” Everyone knew my father only had one child: me. The last time she demanded I hand over my allowance, I finally snapped. “Are you insane? It’s my money, and I’ll spend it how I want. Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?” Zoe just smirked, a cruel little twist of her lips. “Oh, I have every right. After all, I’m carrying your father’s child. Technically, that means you’ll have to start calling me ‘Mom’.” But my father had an orchiectomy two years ago. How could she possibly be pregnant with his child? 1 The twenty grand had just landed in my account, and I celebrated by treating myself to a limited-edition handbag from a designer boutique. I was floating on air until I walked back into my dorm room and was met with Zoe Reed’s signature passive-aggressive tone. “Well, well, if it isn’t Her Highness returning from a royal shopping trip. What treasures did you acquire today?” Ever since she’d discovered I was Ava Freed, heiress to the Freed fortune, Zoe had made it her mission to make my life a living hell. She was the ringleader of my social isolation. If I went to the dining hall, she’d make a scene. “Hey everyone, make way! A billionaire heiress can’t be expected to sit with us commoners. Someone give up their seat for Miss Freed, now!” If I returned to the dorm to rest, she’d try to turn our other roommates into my personal servants. “What are you guys, blind? Her Highness is back! Don’t you know how to wait on her hand and foot?” In the beginning, I tried to explain, to tell everyone I wasn’t like that. But Zoe was always there, twisting my words, poisoning the well. Soon, everyone avoided me like the plague. And through it all, Zoe, the architect of my misery, would stand there with a smug, savior-like expression. “See? I’m the only one who can put up with your spoiled, rich-girl attitude.” Her petty games were nauseating. I ignored her and walked past. Suddenly, she snatched the bag from my hand, her eyes scanning it with a predatory gleam. “So this is a designer bag. Wow, it really does feel different.” Her face was a mask of pure greed. “Give it back,” I said, my voice cold. “You have so many bags already, you won’t miss this one. Why don’t you just give it to me?” I used to think Zoe just had no sense of boundaries. Now, I realized she had no shame, either. “If you want one, buy it yourself. Why on earth would I give you mine?” I snatched it back from her grasp. Zoe’s face darkened into a terrifying scowl. “You think you’re so great because you have money? You think your daddy’s cash gives you the right to humiliate people?” Then, her eyes welled up with tears. She threw herself onto her desk, sobbing dramatically. I was completely baffled. Just then, our other roommates, Leah and Maya, walked in. They must have caught the tail end of her performance. “Ava, we know you’re rich,” Leah said, her voice laced with disapproval, “but that doesn’t give you the right to trample on other people’s dignity.” I almost laughed out loud. “She tried to steal my bag without paying a dime, and I’m supposed to get on my knees and thank her for it?” Without another word, I pulled out my phone and played the recording I’d made of the entire exchange, exposing Zoe’s true colors. Leah and Maya shot her disgusted looks and immediately distanced themselves. After all the times she’d subtly manipulated them against me, it felt good to finally win one. Seeing her act was blown, Zoe dropped the pretense. “So what if I was wrong? You have so many bags, you can’t possibly use them all. I was just helping you lighten your load!” “I don’t need your help. If I have too many, I can sell them and donate the money to charity. One thing’s for sure, I’m not giving them to you.” Zoe’s face went pale with rage, but she was speechless. After weeks of swallowing her bitter little pills, seeing her choke on her own medicine was sweeter than I could have imagined. After this, I thought, she wouldn’t dare mess with me again. 2 It seemed the recording incident had actually scared her. Zoe stopped her snide remarks and started keeping her distance. Without her constant stirring of the pot, the air in the room felt cleaner, lighter. I let my guard down, assuming she’d finally learned to respect boundaries. The next month passed in relative peace. Then came the first day of break. I’d just dragged my suitcase out of the dorm when I saw Arthur, my driver, waiting by the curb with the black Bentley. He stood tall and straight in a freshly pressed dark suit, looking more like a bodyguard than a driver. “Miss Freed, let me get that for you,” Arthur said with a warm smile, taking the suitcase and placing it smoothly in the trunk. Just as I reached for the car door, a voice called out from behind me. “Ava, wait up!” I turned to see Zoe, pulling a battered suitcase, jogging toward me. Her eyes flickered between Arthur and the car as she caught her breath. “My parents are working a construction job and can’t pick me up,” she panted. “And I spent most of my money this month on prep books for the finals, so I don’t even have enough for a cab.” She looked at me with wide, pleading eyes. “Ava, could you… could you possibly give me a ride?” I frowned. Honestly, the last thing I wanted was to get tangled up with her again. But then my eyes fell on her canvas sneakers, washed so many times they’d faded to a sickly yellow. And she had been leaving me alone for the past month. My resolve softened. “Fine, get in.” “Oh, thank you so much! You’re the best, Ava!” Before I could even process it, she had walked around to the front, opened the passenger door, and slid inside as if it were her designated seat. I froze for a second, a new frown creasing my brow. Arthur always kept the passenger seat free for my bags or files. He never let anyone else sit there. But I shook my head. It was just a seat. It wasn’t worth making a fuss over. I opened the back door and got in. The car had barely pulled away from the curb when Zoe started chatting with Arthur. “This car is so comfortable, sir. It must have cost a fortune, right?” Her voice was cloyingly sweet, a stark contrast to the sharp, bitter person she was in the dorm. Arthur offered a polite, professional smile. “It gets the job done.” “You look so young, sir! You take amazing care of yourself.” Zoe propped her chin on her hand, her gaze fixed on Arthur. “You must be really into health and wellness, right? My mom always says a man has to take care of himself as he gets older, or he’ll age so fast…” She rambled on, every topic somehow circling back to Arthur, each word dripping with a sycophantic praise. One moment she was complimenting the fabric of his suit, the next she was gushing about the magnetic quality of his voice. She even managed a pointed jab at her own family. “My dad works construction, his hands are all rough and calloused. Not like yours, sir. You can tell you’re a man who does important things. Your fingers are so long and elegant.” A shiver ran down my spine. I shot her a look, but she was completely oblivious, still chattering away animatedly. Arthur was clearly uncomfortable, his responses growing shorter and more noncommittal. Mostly, he just grunted “Mm-hmm” or “It’s fine.” But Zoe didn’t take the hint. She doubled down. As we passed a high-end bakery, she let out a theatrical gasp. “Oh, that place has the most famous mousse cake! I’ve always wanted to try it, but it’s just so expensive…” She trailed off, her eyes flicking toward Arthur, her tone turning wheedling. “Have you ever had it, sir? I bet you wealthy families have your own private pastry chefs, don’t you?” “I’m not a wealthy man…” “Oh, you’re too modest! If you’re not wealthy, then what are we? Beggars?” Zoe’s incessant chirping was grating on my last nerve. I tried to cut her off, telling her to be quiet, but the silence would last less than a minute before she found a new way to engage Arthur. Finally, I gave up. I put in my AirPods and drowned her out. It was just one car ride. I’d drop her at the subway station, and we’d go our separate ways. It wasn’t worth another fight. But as we neared the station, Zoe suddenly spoke up. “Sir, my house isn’t actually near the subway. It’s out in the suburbs. Could you possibly drive me a little further?” She twisted around to face me, giving me a conspiratorial wink. “You don’t mind, do you, Ava?” 3 Before I could answer, she’d already turned back to Arthur. “My parents are working overtime tonight. I’m a little scared to be walking home alone with my luggage after dark…” This time, Arthur didn’t respond. He looked at me in the rearview mirror, waiting for my decision. I stared at Zoe’s entitled expression, and that sliver of discomfort I’d been feeling finally sharpened into clear, cold disgust. Give her an inch, and she’ll take a mile. It was her nature. My patience was gone. As she began to repeat her request, I cut her off, my voice sharp. “No. We agreed to the subway station, and that’s where you’re getting out.” The smile on Zoe’s face froze. She clearly hadn’t expected such a firm refusal. After a moment of stunned silence, her eyes reddened, and her voice caught in a sob. “Ava, I know I shouldn’t be asking for so much, but my home is really far. Even after I get off the subway, it’s more than a two-hour walk. It’ll be pitch black by the time I get there.” “My parents work so hard just to save money,” she continued, tears streaming down her face. “They work construction during the day and as night watchmen at a warehouse after. They won’t even buy themselves decent clothes. I just don’t want to bother them to come get me.” She wiped her eyes dramatically. “I’m not scared of much, but walking alone at night… I’m just so afraid of what could happen… If something happened to me, what would my parents do?” The air in the car grew heavy. Arthur glanced at me in the mirror, his expression softening with pity. “The suburbs aren’t that far of a drive. Maybe we should…” “This isn’t about the distance,” I interrupted. Zoe seized the opening like a lifeline. “You’re such a good person, sir! Ava, I know you’re still mad at me for what I did before. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll apologize.” “I promise, this is the last time I’ll ever ask you for anything. I’ll stay completely out of your way from now on!” “She’s just a young girl, and it sounds like she’s in a tough spot,” Arthur pleaded quietly. “Let me just take her home.” I looked at the earnest plea in Arthur’s eyes, then at Zoe’s tear-streaked face. Finally, I closed my eyes and sighed. “Fine. Take me home first. Then you can take her.” Zoe’s tears vanished as if on command, replaced by a triumphant grin. “Thank you, Ava! Thank you, sir! You’re both such wonderful people!” She was much quieter for the rest of the drive to my house, though I did catch her glancing at Arthur from time to time, a secretive little smile playing on her lips. When we pulled up to the gates of my family’s estate, Arthur was about to get out to help with my luggage, but Zoe beat him to it. She jumped out of the car and practically skipped to the back, pulling open the trunk with a flourish. “I’ll get it! Wow, Ava, is this where you live? This house is incredible!” Her eyes were wide with undisguised envy, her tone now syrupy sweet. I ignored her, taking my bag from Arthur. “Drive safe.” “Don’t worry, Miss Freed.” As the car pulled away, I glanced back one last time. Zoe was in the passenger seat, saying something to Arthur that made her blush a deep shade of crimson. A strange feeling settled in my gut, but I quickly dismissed it. I was just overthinking things. Arthur was old enough to be her father. A girl as ambitious as Zoe would never be interested in someone like him. 4 When we returned to school after the break, the change in Zoe was dramatic. The faded white t-shirts were gone, replaced by designer labels. A few days later, she was sporting the latest iPhone. This was the same girl who used to think twice about buying a cheap coffee, and now she was treating our roommates to high-end sushi dinners that cost hundreds of dollars per person. Leah couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Zoe, did you win the lottery or something? You’ve been spending like crazy.” Zoe just smiled demurely. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just some gifts from my boyfriend. He was worried I wouldn’t be eating well at school, so he gave me a little spending money.” “Your boyfriend must be loaded. Is he some kind of trust fund kid?” When asked about his identity, Zoe would become evasive. “I’ll introduce you all when the time is right.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that when she said this, her eyes would dart toward me. I wasn’t interested in other people’s private lives, especially not Zoe’s. Where her money came from and who she was dating was none of my business. My phone buzzed. It was a notification that my dad’s twenty-thousand-dollar allowance had arrived. I had just unlocked it to check when Zoe was suddenly leaning over my shoulder. “Is that your allowance from your dad? He’s so generous.” I flipped my phone face-down on the desk and gave a noncommittal “Mm.” “You know, Ava, it’s not safe for a girl to carry that much cash around.” I frowned. “What are you getting at?” Zoe’s smile was sickeningly sincere. “Look, you get this twenty thousand, and it’s gone before you know it. Why don’t you let me hold onto it for you? I can help you save it.” “If you want to buy something, just run it by me first. I’ll make sure you’re not wasting your money on frivolous things.” The audacity of her statement was staggering. “Zoe, who the hell do you think you are?” I snapped. “You want to control my money?” Her smile faltered, and a flash of resentment crossed her face before she suppressed it. “Ava, why would you say that? I’m just trying to help you.” “I don’t need your help,” I cut her off. “My dad is happy to give me money to spend, and I’ll spend it however I please. It’s none of your damn business!” Zoe’s face cycled through shades of red and white. Just when I thought she was about to explode, a strange, twisted smile spread across her lips. “You’re only acting so high and mighty now because you’re the sole heiress to the Freed fortune. But have you ever stopped to think what would happen if your father had a son?” I furrowed my brow, completely lost. “What are you talking about? My dad only has one daughter. Where would a son come from?” “Why not?” Zoe raised an eyebrow. “Men are all the same deep down. They can have a business empire, but they still want a son to inherit it. Your dad is nice to you now because he has no other choice.” She paused for effect. “Once he has a son, do you really think you’ll still be getting twenty grand a month?” Her words ignited a fire in my chest. Leaving aside the fact that my father couldn’t have any more children, why shouldn’t I be the one to inherit my family’s business? “Zoe, have you been watching too many soap operas? My father’s company will be mine one day. Stop worrying about things that are none of your business!” 5 I thought I had made myself crystal clear, and that Zoe would finally back off. But that night, as I was studying in our room, she marched right up to my desk. “Ava, where’s your allowance?” I looked up at her. “What does my allowance have to do with you?” Zoe’s voice rose. “It has everything to do with me. I told you before. From now on, you’ll hand it over to me for safekeeping. When you need money, you’ll submit a request form. Once I approve it, I’ll transfer you the funds.” “And,” she added with a magnanimous air, “if you’re well-behaved, I’ll even give you an extra five hundred dollars a month as a reward.” As she spoke, her excitement growing, I started to wonder if I was hearing things. My fingers tightened around my phone. I lifted my head, and the look in my eyes was glacial. “Zoe, what did you just say? I don’t think I heard you correctly.” “I said, hand over the twenty thousand dollars your father gave you. I’ll manage it. And if you behave, I’ll reward you with five hundred dollars a month.” I let out a cold laugh. “Zoe, who in the hell do you think you are, demanding money from me over and over again?” Her voice suddenly shot up an octave. “I have every right.” She placed a hand protectively over her flat stomach. “Because I’m pregnant with your father’s child. And by the time I marry into the Freed family, you’ll have to start calling me ‘Mom’.” The room fell into a deafening silence. Our roommates’ heads swiveled back and forth between me and Zoe, their faces etched with shock. Zoe stared at me, a look of pure triumph on her face, certain that this revelation would shatter me. But I just looked back at her, my expression calm. Zoe was pregnant with my father’s child? It was the most ridiculous joke I had ever heard. Two years ago, my father was diagnosed with testicular cancer. To ensure it wouldn’t return, he’d had an orchiectomy. The doctors were unequivocal: after the surgery, he would be completely sterile. We had kept the matter private; besides my father and me, almost no one knew. If Zoe had done even the slightest bit of real research on my family, she would never have concocted such an easily disproven lie. I could see her plan clearly. The moment she found out I was an heiress, she started plotting. She was going to use a fake pregnancy to claw her way into a wealthy family and, in the process, gain leverage over me. So foolish. So greedy. “Be smart about this, Ava, and hand over the money,” Zoe hissed under her breath. “Otherwise, once I’m married, I’ll make your life a living hell. You can kiss your twenty-thousand-dollar allowance goodbye. You’ll be lucky if you’re even allowed to stay in the Freed family at all!” Watching her gloat, a new idea began to form in my mind. If she wanted to put on a show, then I would be happy to play along. 6 Seeing my lack of reaction, Zoe suddenly clutched her stomach. “Oh… ouch… my stomach hurts…” She sagged against Leah, pointing a trembling finger at me. “It must have been you… you stressed me out… Ava, I know you don’t want to accept me, but the baby is innocent…” “If anything happens to this baby, you’ll be a murderer!” I scoffed. “We don’t even know if there is a baby. You can’t just say there is and make it true. Are you willing to go to a hospital and get a test?” At this, Zoe didn’t panic. In fact, she looked like she’d been waiting for this. “Fine! Let’s go! Let’s see if you can handle the truth.” “Don’t worry,” I said smoothly. “If you are really pregnant with my father’s child, I will take full responsibility.” But first, she had to actually be pregnant. “As it happens, my family owns a private hospital. The equipment and the doctors are the best in the country. Are you brave enough to get checked there?” “Let’s go! Who’s afraid of who?” Zoe puffed out her chest over her flat stomach. “This will be the perfect chance to show your father he’s about to have a son!” I didn’t reply, just pulled out my phone and called my family’s estate manager, telling him to arrange for a car and to have the hospital prepare for a full prenatal workup. After hanging up, I glanced at Zoe, who was still moaning in fake pain. “The car will be here in thirty minutes. You better be sure about this.” If she backed down now, I might have let it go, for the sake of us being classmates. Zoe just snorted. “You think I’m scared? By the end of this, you’ll be calling me ‘Mom’ with respect.” On the way to the hospital, Zoe was lost in a fantasy world where her child made her queen. One minute she was debating baby names, the next she was musing about how large of a dowry the Freed family should offer. She was so wrapped up in her delusions that she didn’t notice the icy look on my face. She had no idea that the head of OB/GYN at our hospital was a former distinguished professor at a royal college of medicine. No trick, no fake document, would ever get past him. I was about to find out just what she was hiding. At the hospital, the VIP clinic was already waiting. As a nurse led Zoe in, I sat in the waiting area, calmly anticipating the results. Half an hour later, the doctor emerged, holding a report, a strange expression on his face. He walked over to me and spoke in a low voice. “Miss Freed… Miss Reed is… she is indeed pregnant. Approximately six weeks along.” I raised an eyebrow. She was actually pregnant? But if my father couldn’t have children, then whose baby was it? Just then, Zoe strutted out of the room, snatched the report from the doctor’s hand, and glanced at the word “POSITIVE.” A smug, triumphant look spread across her face. She stormed over to me and slapped the report against my chest. “Open your eyes and look! I’m pregnant with your father’s child—the future heir to the Freed fortune!”

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The highway heat was brutal when I saw a Labrador dying of heatstroke. I poured imported water over it to cool it down. My wife’s assistant, Leo, shrieked: “Are you insane?! What will I drink?!” I replied, “Buy your own at the next station.” After saving the dog, I returned home to my furious wife Vivian. “Leo nearly died from dehydration because of you!” I laughed bitterly. “Couldn’t he buy water? Or use a tap?” She nodded coldly. “You’re right. It was his fault.” A week later, she took me to a deserted island for my “birthday.” As the helicopter left, her voice crackled over the speaker: “You said thirsty people should buy water. So go buy some now.” Stranded with only ocean around me, I pressed my emergency watch. “Come get me.” Maybe this marriage ended long ago. … Vivian’s mocking laughter echoed from the helicopter. “Luke, has the sun already cooked your brain, or are you just that terrified? This island is off the grid. There’s no signal here. Who do you think you’re calling with that toy watch?” “I suggest you face reality. Get on your knees and apologize to Leo right now. Beg him to forgive you. If you do, maybe I’ll be merciful and cut your little vacation short by a few days.” Leo’s head popped into view beside her. His face was a mask of feigned concern, but his eyes danced with triumph. “Luke, I really didn’t want it to come to this. But you used all the water on that dog, and I genuinely almost died of dehydration. You owe me this.” “But,” he added, his voice dripping with false sincerity, “if you admit you were wrong, and you sound like you mean it, I can ask Vivian to go easy on you and pick you up early.” The sight of his pathetic act made my stomach turn. Five years of marriage. I had been with Vivian when she had nothing, and I had helped her build an empire. And now, she was willing to leave me to die on this miserable rock for an assistant who was all drama and flair. When she was in the hospital after her car crash, I never left her side for three months. When her company’s cash flow dried up, I mortgaged the only house my parents left me to keep her afloat. Had she forgotten all of that? I suppressed the dull ache in my chest and looked up at her in the helicopter. “Do you really think I was wrong to save a dying dog?” “Leo is a grown man. The city is full of stores. He couldn’t buy water? The hotel has running water. He couldn’t drink that? He let himself get dehydrated. It’s painfully obvious he’s just being manipulative. Can’t you see that?” Vivian’s expression faltered for a second, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. Leo saw it and immediately turned on the waterworks. His eyes welled up, and his voice cracked. “Luke, I know you’ve never liked me, but how can you say that? I have severe allergies. I can’t just drink any water. I can only drink that specific brand of imported water. It’s not like I had a choice…” He wiped away an imaginary tear and turned to Vivian. “Vivian, please don’t make things harder for Luke. It’s all my fault. If he really doesn’t want to apologize, let’s just forget it. I don’t want to be the reason you two fight…” “That’s enough!” Vivian snapped, her gaze shifting back to me, now blazing with anger. “Luke, are you still going to be this stubborn? Leo has a delicate constitution. As his senior, can’t you show a little compassion?” “Saving the dog wasn’t wrong, but you shouldn’t have mistreated my assistant for it! If something had actually happened to him, could you have taken responsibility?” Watching her being played so masterfully, I couldn’t help but find it all absurdly comical. “Vivian, do you actually believe him?” “From what I recall, Leo grew up in the countryside. Did he drink imported water in the mountains, too? I wasn’t aware that rural families were so affluent these days.” Vivian’s face flushed, but she doubled down. “What’s wrong with being from the countryside? All you ever do is criticize his background. The truth is, you’re just jealous that he’s young and successful!” “This time, I’m going to teach you a lesson. You can stay here and reflect on your actions!” With that, she turned away from me and spoke to the pilot in a clipped tone. “Let’s go.” The roar of the helicopter faded into the distance. I stood alone, staring at the endless ocean and the barren island. For the first time, I saw with blinding clarity that our marriage had been shattered for a long time. The sun beat down, and the thirst was already becoming a gnawing presence. I knew I couldn’t just wait here. I had to find water, or at least shelter. I got my bearings and started walking toward a dense thicket of trees in the island’s interior. I hadn’t gone far when my foot snagged on something. I looked down, and my heart seized. A vibrant, emerald-green snake was coiled at my feet, its forked tongue flicking, its cold eyes locked on me. It had already marked me as prey. A chill ran down my spine, and cold sweat soaked my shirt. A bite from a venomous snake on a deserted island was a death sentence. Instinctively, I looked up. The helicopter was still hovering in the sky. Vivian was watching me through the window. If she would just lower a rope, I could escape this deadly threat. “Vivian! There’s a venomous snake down here! Get me out of here, now!” I screamed. Her face was a blur behind the glass, but I could just make out the cruel smirk on her lips. She picked up the intercom, and her voice boomed from the speakers. “Scared now, Luke? Where was your compassion when you were pouring all that water on that mutt, not thinking about how thirsty Leo would be?” “He was on an IV drip for three days, his lips were cracked like bark. Where was your sympathy then?” “If that snake bites you, you brought it on yourself. Stay there and think about what you’ve done. When you’re ready to apologize to Leo, I’ll consider saving you.” … I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. For Leo, a man whose only talent was feigning fragility, she would actually watch me get attacked by a snake? “Vivian!” I gritted my teeth. “How did me saving a dying dog hurt him in any way?” “He’s a grown man who can’t figure out how to get a drink of water? He needed a bottle of imported water like it was a life raft? And for someone like that, you’re willing to trade my life?” Her gaze wavered for a moment, but her voice remained as hard as steel. “Leo is sensitive, not a brute like you! He suffered, and now you’re going to get a taste of it!” I laughed, a harsh, desperate sound. “Fine. Then watch closely. If I die in the jaws of this snake today, you’d better hope you can sleep at night!” “You—!” My words struck a nerve. Her face turned ugly. “Don’t you dare threaten me, Luke!” Just then, the green snake coiled its body and lunged. I instinctively leaped backward, narrowly dodging the attack, but I lost my footing and fell hard. Before I could scramble up, the snake had already reoriented and was slithering toward me, tongue flicking. Ignoring the pain, I scrambled backward and then turned and sprinted toward the dense woods. The sound of scales scraping against the dry ground was a death rattle at my heels. My heart hammered against my ribs. In the helicopter, Vivian watched me flee, a flicker of something—was it concern?—in her eyes. Leo, sitting beside her, quickly masked a flash of malice with his usual wounded expression. “Don’t worry, Vivian,” he said smoothly. “That snake looks scary, but it’s actually harmless.” “I looked up this island before we came. It’s just a common green snake. They’re very docile.” He paused, deliberately showing her a faint scar on his wrist—a cut from a piece of broken glass that he’d always claimed was from a fall caused by dehydration. “Remember what you said at the hospital? That you’d make sure Luke learned the consequences of treating others so carelessly. This is perfect. A little scare will teach him a lesson.” Vivian looked at Leo, and whatever small flicker of worry she felt was instantly extinguished. She snorted. “You’re right. He needs to learn. A grown man, scared of a little snake. And he has the nerve to call you dramatic?” From an angle where she couldn’t see, a triumphant smile spread across Leo’s face. He knew this island was home to highly venomous sea snakes and rattlesnakes. The green snake was just a lucky, harmless coincidence. But he wanted Vivian to think Luke was overreacting. If a real venomous snake showed up… well, that would just be Luke’s bad luck. Vivian was about to taunt me again when her eyes widened in horror. The green snake, having been shaken off, darted into a nearby bush. And from that same bush, another, much larger snake emerged. It was a dusty brown, with a distinct diamond pattern along its back. It raised its head, a menacing rattle echoing from its tail. A rattlesnake. Highly venomous. To her utter horror, in my desperate attempt to escape the first snake, I was running directly toward it. I skidded to a halt just as it raised its head, its cold, vertical pupils locking onto me. From the helicopter, Leo’s voice, amplified and laced with mock amusement, drifted down. “See, Vivian? Luke’s in luck. Rattlesnakes are lazy. As long as he doesn’t provoke it, it won’t bother to move.” The tension in Vivian’s face eased slightly. She picked up the intercom. “Luke, did you hear that? Just stand perfectly still, apologize to Leo, and the snake won’t hurt you.” “Stop playing games, or this will only get worse for you.” I stared at the rattlesnake coiled at my feet, ready to strike, my throat tight. “I was wrong,” I said suddenly, my voice raspy and hoarse. Vivian and Leo were both taken aback. I slowly lifted my head, my gaze piercing through the helicopter’s window, straight at Vivian. “I was wrong five years ago when I was blind enough to fall for you. I was wrong to pull you out of the gutter. And I was wrong to think that the person who starved with me would be the person who stood by me.” “Luke!” Vivian’s voice was shrill. “Are you still being stubborn? Do you need to get bitten before you finally see sense?” I ignored her, my fingers discreetly reaching for the tactical knife hidden in my boot. I hadn’t had time to grab it earlier, but now it was my only hope. The GPS signal on my watch was slowly pulsing. Help was on the way. I just had to survive for a few more minutes. The rattlesnake, agitated by my silence, began to coil tighter. I knew it was about to strike. In the same instant, I threw myself toward a gnarled, leaning tree nearby. “Luke, are you crazy?!” Vivian screamed. “If you provoke it, it could climb the tree after you!” I perched on a thick branch, gasping for air, and looked down at the snake circling the base of the tree. The situation was so absurd, I almost laughed. “It’s better than being a sitting duck, isn’t it? Or would you rather watch me get poisoned?” Leo smoothly stepped in, placing a calming hand on Vivian’s arm. “Vivian, don’t be angry. He’s just terrified. Rattlesnakes can’t climb trees. See? It’s already giving up.” I followed his gaze. The snake was indeed slowly retreating back toward the bushes. But as it did, I saw something else in the undergrowth—several pairs of glowing green eyes. This wasn’t just one snake. It was a whole nest. I was about to shout a warning when Leo leaned out of the helicopter and tossed a smoke grenade toward the bushes. “Don’t worry, Luke! I’ll scare them away for you!” he yelled, his voice a caricature of urgency. The next second, the entire bush erupted.

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The moment I was about to be swapped at birth and doomed to a life of poverty, I was jolted awake by a stream of live comments flooding my vision. 「Wow, the male lead is so clever. He’s going to secretly switch his sick sister with the billionaire’s daughter. Now his sister’s heart condition can be cured!」 「My heart breaks for him. He has to send his own sister away and then go home to a drunk mom and a gambling-addicted dad. He’s carrying the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders.」 「Don’t feel too bad for him! He’s got our girl Lucy. She’ll wash his clothes and cook his meals when they’re kids, and after the big reveal, she’ll give up her fortune to marry him and be his devoted housewife. He’s totally winning.」 A lifetime of misery flashed before my eyes. A piercing wail escaped my lips, waking everyone in the room. 1 The quiet hospital nursery erupted into chaos. A young boy, Jordi, frantically clamped a hand over my mouth, his childish face etched with panic. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his pale forehead. My father, who had been in an office next door, burst into the room. His eyes locked on me, nestled in Jordi’s arms, and his expression darkened instantly. “Kid, what do you think you’re doing with my daughter?” My dad stood at a towering six-foot-three, built like a linebacker. His presence alone was enough to make most people tremble. But Jordi, after a brief moment of shock, quickly composed himself, his composure unnerving for a five-year-old. “Sir, I’m a patient here. I saw that her sleeping position looked like it would hurt her neck. I was just trying to adjust her.” The comments went wild with praise. 「I stan a genius king! Jordi is so smart to come up with that on the fly. Who would ever suspect a five-year-old?」 「LOL, our boy is a certified genius. If it weren’t for his trash family holding him back, he’d be famous by now.」 「Ugh, Lucy’s crying is so annoying. What’s the big deal? That’s her future husband. Soon enough, she’ll be dying to be in his arms 24/7.」 「She needs to get used to his embrace. He didn’t succeed today, but he’ll find another way. It would be a shame if she ruined his hard work again.」 My dad stared at Jordi, his expression a mixture of suspicion and confusion. The more I read the comments, the more terrified I became of this little psycho. I wailed louder, spitting and gurgling, trying desperately to roll my eyes toward my dad. Finally, he got the message. He slapped his thigh, pointing a finger at Jordi. “Wait a minute. Something’s not right here.” He immediately ordered a full investigation. Jordi was just a child, and his methods were clumsy. The trail of evidence was obvious. In less than half an hour, his plan was exposed: he had intended to kidnap me and replace me with his sister, Lily, so she could receive treatment for her congenital heart disease. The entire hospital was in an uproar. My father was incandescent with rage. I just sucked on my pacifier, watching the blood drain from Jordi’s face as I took long, satisfying gulps of milk. Dad called security to have him removed. As they dragged him away, Jordi’s eyes were fixed on me, a look of bitter resentment and longing in them. Just before he left, a call came through on his cheap smartwatch. The doctor’s voice was grim. “Your sister is dying. It’s time to come take her home.” Through the speaker, I could hear the faint, heartbreaking cries of a baby girl. Jordi’s eyes welled with tears. He turned to my father, his voice cracking. “Please, sir, please save my sister, Lily.” I took a deep breath. The absolute nerve of this kid. My dad just scoffed and told him to get lost. Jordi’s small fists clenched. Suddenly, his fear was replaced by a strange, unnerving determination. “Sir,” he said, his voice steady, “I wasn’t just taking Lucy to save my sister.” “Everything I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth.” 2 Jordi’s gaze softened as he looked at me, his small face filled with an unsettling tenderness. “Sir, I can see the future,” he declared. “And in that future, I’m Lucy’s husband.” “She will fall completely in love with me, so much that she’ll give up her life as an heiress just to be my wife.” “And I love her more than anything. I was only taking her because I miss her so much.” He lowered his long, dark lashes, a picture of manufactured vulnerability. To prove his point, he began reciting a string of deeply personal secrets about my family, things no outsider could possibly know. My father’s eyes grew wider with each revelation, his face a mask of disbelief. What he didn’t know was that I could see Jordi’s cheat sheet. The comments were scrolling frantically. 「Go, Jordi, go! He’s using our chat history to trick his future father-in-law! So smart!」 「Keep going, scare the old man straight! LMAO, I’ve got a whole folder of the Vance family’s dirty laundry right here.」 「My turn! My turn! Tell him his wife is a total softie behind closed doors!」 「Delete that, you idiot! He’ll get him killed! Jordi, Jordi, the password to the Vance family’s Swiss bank account is 123456. It’s all part of Lucy’s dowry.」 I choked on my milk, coughing until my face turned beet red. So that’s what it was. I wasn’t just seeing random comments; I was seeing his comments. My dad patted my back anxiously, his brow furrowed as he studied the strange little boy. Jordi, sensing an opportunity, pressed his advantage. “So, can you treat my sister now?” he pleaded. “She’s Lucy’s sister, too. In the future, Lucy will adore Lily.” The comments eagerly agreed. 「He’s right! The FL doesn’t even resent Lily for stealing her identity. She insists that Lily stay with the family and be raised as her sister.」 「Poor little Lily. She grew up with every luxury, but she was so frail and sick. Not like our Lucy, who was strong enough to haul water barrels for work by age three.」 「But Lily is a good sister! She never looks down on Lucy for being a country bumpkin, and she even offers to share the company shares with her. She even lets Lucy have her amazing brother. Their love is a two-way street!」 I stared at the comments, wondering if I was hallucinating. How could they twist a vicious story of a cuckoo in the nest and call it a beautiful act of sisterly love? This chat was seriously disturbed. After I settled down, my dad actually began to consider Jordi’s request. I could see it on his face—father-daughter telepathy. The boy’s information was too accurate to ignore. And what was saving one life to a man like my father? He was one of the richest men in the world; money was no object. But I refused to let my dad be played for a fool. I let out a scream so piercing it could have shattered glass, startling my mother awake. 3 My dad quickly placed me in my mother’s arms and whispered the whole bizarre story to her. My mom, still recovering from childbirth, listened intently and then delivered a swift, stinging slap across my father’s face. He stared at her, dumbfounded. “Are you insane?” she hissed. “This kid tries to kidnap our daughter, and your first thought is to pay for his sister’s medical bills?” “‘Future husband’? At his age, he’s already plotting to swap out his own sister for a wife. The boy is a manipulative little monster.” “If he really loved our daughter,” she continued, her voice rising, “he wouldn’t be planning a life where she has to suffer for him!” My dad, a gentle giant built like a bear, let out a wounded whimper. Jordi knew the game was up. He glared at my mother, his voice dripping with a chilling mix of scorn and hatred. “Ma’am, I can guarantee you, one day your daughter will be madly in love with me.” “You refuse to save my sister now. But in the future,” he snarled, “I will make your daughter pay for your cruelty. I’ll make her hate you, just as much as I hate you right now.” With that, he slammed the door and was gone. My parents exchanged a worried glance. Dad ran a hand through his hair, his voice laced with anxiety. “What if she really does grow up to hate us?” Mom gently pinched my chubby cheek, her voice fierce. “If she turns into some love-obsessed idiot, then she’s no daughter of mine.” But her hands were trembling, and a deep-seated fear clouded her eyes. I wriggled in their arms, patting their hands to comfort them and blowing bubbles with my mouth. Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’m not going to be a fool for love. I’m not going to suffer for anyone. I had suffered enough in my last life. I was an orphan, fighting for scraps in an overcrowded orphanage. When it closed, I became a child laborer and died before I turned fifteen. I don’t know why I retained the memories of that life. But I was grateful. This time, I had been born into the life I’d always dreamed of, with a mountain of wealth and parents who adored me. I wasn’t about to throw that away for some boy. When my grandparents heard about the near-kidnapping, they nearly had heart attacks. My paternal grandfather, a titan of industry, gifted me a subsidiary of his company. The skyscraper that housed its headquarters made me the youngest billionaire CEO in the Guinness World Records. My grandmother adorned me with so many heavy gold bracelets and jade necklaces that I could barely breathe. My maternal grandfather, a political giant and a “founding father” of our modern nation, assigned me a 24/7 security detail. My grandmother, a brilliant scientist, gave me her black card, linked to the royalties from her patents. It had a string of zeros I’d only ever seen in astronomy textbooks. Surrounded by the scent of old money and the sound of my family’s laughter, I drifted off into the most peaceful sleep of my life. The next time I saw Jordi Croft was three years later. I had accidentally cut my wrist with a fruit knife and was rushed to the hospital. As we arrived, the familiar stream of comments flickered back into view. 「Our ML works so hard. He should be in school, but he’s here at the hospital, taking care of his sister day and night.」 「He’s smart enough to be in the sixth grade already, but at eight years old, he hasn’t even started first grade. My heart aches for him. He’s so thin, he’s nothing but skin and bones.」 「If only Lucy were here. She adores him. She would find a way to make money to support his education. She’d starve herself just to make sure he had enough to eat.」 「God, Lucy is so annoying. And selfish. If she hadn’t cried that day, Jordi wouldn’t be suffering like this. It’s all her fault.」 … A cold laugh escaped me. So, Jordi’s miserable life was my fault now? How had I ended up with the blame for that? As the comments grew clearer, Jordi himself came into view. He was tall for his age, lean and wiry, with sharp, monolidded eyes that held a chilling indifference. He didn’t even glance in my direction, rushing past me to a small, worn-out cot in the hallway. A pale, fragile-looking girl lay on it, her tiny hand bruised purple from countless IV needles. She looked as if a strong gust of wind could blow her away. The coldness on Jordi’s face melted into a sea of tenderness, his eyes overflowing with a fierce, protective love. The Chat was ecstatic. 「What is Lucy even staring at? Talk about unrequited love. Our boy won’t even give her the time of day.」 「Serves her right for crying back then. Now, even if she’s fallen for him at first sight, he has no time for her.」 「Don’t be so harsh, guys. She was just a baby, she didn’t know any better. We should give her a chance to make it up to him. She’s the real heiress now; she can help him a lot.」 「We’re just teasing! She’s his future wife, after all. Even if we don’t give her a chance, he’ll find a way to let her atone for her sins.」 The moment that last comment appeared, Jordi stood up from his sister’s bedside. His gaze fell on my bandaged wrist, and he slowly walked towards me. His tone was far from polite. “Hi. My sister has a serious heart condition. You just have a little cut on your wrist. Can you give her your private suite?” I blinked, momentarily stunned. I tilted my head, half-wondering if robbery and extortion had suddenly become legal. Why else would someone so brazenly demand I give up the expensive VIP room my parents had paid for? But the sour, entitled tone of the comments confirmed I hadn’t misheard. 「Awww, the ML is already going easy on her! Just asking for the room and that’s it?」 「He’s the only one who truly feels for her. He knows she suffered for three years because of him, so he’s letting her off easy. Lucy, you should just drop dead and let me take your place!」 「Seriously, what is she just standing there for? He’s practically gift-wrapped an apology for her. Just move your stuff already!」 Jordi was growing impatient. He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Lucy Vance,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’re not going to be so selfish as to say no, are you?” He leaned in closer. “You should know, there’s nothing I hate more than selfish people.” Was he trying to guilt-trip me? Oh, I was done being polite. I looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Wow,” I sighed dramatically. “I really envy your skin.” He was momentarily confused. “What do you mean?” I let out a sharp, exaggerated laugh. “It’s thicker than a castle wall.” His face instantly contorted, flushing a deep, furious red. 5 The Chat exploded with outrage before he could even speak. 「Is Lucy insane? How could she say that to him? Does she not want to be his darling wife anymore?」 「My poor, sweet boy! He was already willing to forgive her and build a future together, and she just tramples all over his heart. I think I can hear it shattering.」 「Everyone calm down. Our girl loves him more than anything. She would never hurt him on purpose. This has to be a tactic. Playing hard to get!」 「That makes sense! She missed out on three precious years with him. She must feel so guilty and unworthy. She’s probably too scared to believe he’d forgive her, so she’s taking the ‘bad girl’ route to get his attention. A forced romance is still a romance, right?」 After reading their twisted analysis, I secretly rolled my eyes. Jordi, however, seemed to have an epiphany. A wave of relief washed over his face. He stopped pressuring me for the room and returned to Lily’s bedside, his eyes fixed on me with a thoughtful, calculating expression. I had a bad feeling about this. I slammed my door shut, cutting off his probing gaze. Back in my luxurious room, I flopped onto the soft bed, kicking my feet in the air and propping my chin on my hands as I video-chatted with my parents. They were in Europe for a massive business deal and had been frantic when they heard I’d been hurt. My father was so distraught he was practically sobbing into my mother’s shoulder. My mother carefully inspected my bandaged wrist through the screen before letting out a sigh of relief, though her face remained stern. “Lucy Vance, you are forbidden from playing with knives ever again.” I nodded obediently. Ever since the incident at my birth, my parents had been hyper-vigilant about my safety, terrified that I would get hurt or, worse, be taken from them. I was their precious treasure. With parents who loved me this much, how could I ever follow the script and abandon them and this life of incredible privilege for a poor boy with a persecution complex? But even though I wanted nothing to do with Jordi, it was clear he wasn’t done with me. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, dreaming of my bright, CEO-filled future, a series of frantic knocks echoed from my door.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394269”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day my husband’s intern showed up on my doorstep was our twentieth wedding anniversary. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen, maybe nineteen, with a look in her eyes that was a brazen cocktail of confidence and contempt. “James told me he never knew what true love was until he met me,” she announced. “You’ve had a nice long run, but it’s time to step aside.” When I asked James to fire her, he said I was being unreasonable. My own daughter told me I was just menopausal and paranoid, and then, to my horror, she befriended the intern. My first instinct was to endure it, to weather this storm as I had with all the other little flings and flirtations over the years. But then I found out the girl was pregnant. And James had moved her into the very first apartment we ever shared—the place where our love story began. That’s when I knew. Some things, once they become trash, just need to be thrown out. I contacted the best divorce attorney in the city. But when James found out, his eyes went wild. He grabbed my arm, his voice raw. “You’re hiring your ex-boyfriend to handle our divorce? After all these years, you still haven’t forgotten him?” 1 To be honest, at the very beginning, I really did try to just let it go. The intern, Heather, was so young—barely out of her teens. My husband, James, had just turned forty-one. Our daughter was already in college. The girl came to me, her eyes brimming with tears, pleading for me to “set their love free.” Her eyes sparkled with a fierce determination, a mirror of the reckless girl I once was. Now, all I saw in my own reflection were fine lines creeping from the corners of my eyes and the stray silver hair I’d found that morning. “Claire,” she said, her tone falsely sweet, “let’s be honest, woman to woman. Your body isn’t what it used to be. You don’t know a thing about his business. What exactly are you holding onto him with?” She leaned in, a conspiratorial smirk on her lips. “The only reason James hasn’t divorced you is because he’s a good man, and he pities you. But there’s a line, you know? A person can’t be that shameless.” A dry laugh escaped my lips. I looked at this smug girl, her lips pursed in a perfect pout. “I’m sorry, did I hear you right? You, the little homewrecker who wormed her way into my family, are calling me shameless?” She pulled down the collar of her blouse, revealing a stretch of pale neck littered with a constellation of angry red marks. “Last night, he held me and told me that being with me was the first time he ever felt a true union of body and soul.” Her voice was a triumphant whisper. “From my first day at the company, he took care of everything for me. He taught me how to read financial statements, how to analyze contracts, how to negotiate.” “I understand his ambition, his dreams. At the office, I’m his right hand. In bed,” she paused, her eyes glinting, “I’m the fantasy he can’t get enough of.” I let out a cold snort and leaned back in my chair. “Heather, is it? You’re an intern, not even graduated yet. You think it’s some grand achievement to sleep your way into my husband’s bed under the guise of work?” I let the question hang in the air. “You don’t actually believe you’re the first little girl to latch onto James Shaw, do you?” Heather’s body went rigid. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. “Have you ever wondered why he’s never divorced me?” I pressed, watching the panic bloom in her eyes, her breathing growing shallow. “There’s a saying: better to be a rich man’s wife than a poor man’s darling. Instead of waving your youth around like a trophy, you should be thinking about how much money you can squeeze out of him before he gets tired of you and kicks you to the curb.” When I got home, James was on the sofa, scrolling through documents on his tablet. Time had been exceptionally kind to him. Even in his forties, the years had only carved a deeper, more mature intensity into his brow, making him all the more magnetic. He heard me come in but didn’t look up. This was the rhythm of our life after twenty years. An unspoken truce. If I didn’t speak, it meant there was nothing to discuss. I went into the kitchen and soon returned with dinner. Three dishes and a soup. James put down his tablet and moved to the table. “Jenna called. She wants you to pick her up for Fall Break.” “Okay.” “Your mother hasn’t been feeling well. She needs to see a doctor.” “Fine. You can handle it.” “The bathroom floor is getting slippery. I was thinking of having it redone.” “Whatever you think is best.” “Heather came to see me today.” … His eyes finally lifted from his bowl, meeting mine. His expression was flat, detached, with just a hint of confusion. “And?” His mistress had just confronted me, and all he had to say was and? Even after years of mastering my temper, the word lodged in my throat. I frowned, staring at him. “James, we are married. What you are doing is called having an affair.” Something in my tone must have struck a nerve. He slammed his bowl down on the table with a sharp crack. “Don’t be so dramatic, Claire.” “Heather is just an intern at the office. I help her out a little, and suddenly you’re acting like a paranoid lunatic.” Classic James. Not just deceiving himself, but turning the blame back on me. Dinner ended in a cold, suffocating silence. I expected the tension to linger for days. I was wrong. The very next afternoon, I came home from grocery shopping to find Heather in my living room. She was wearing the slippers I’d bought for our daughter, leaning against James’s shoulder as he handed her a glass of homemade lemonade. “Oh, James, you’re amazing! I can’t believe you know how to make this from scratch.” She took a long sip, her head tilted back as she gazed at him with pure adoration. “Heh, don’t be so dramatic. Drink it slowly,” he murmured, his thumb gently wiping a drop from the corner of her mouth, his fingers lingering on her lips. A sharp, bitter scent of lemon filled the air. When we were young and newly in love, I had a craving for fresh lemonade. James bought lemons by the crate, spending hours perfecting his recipe, determined to make the freshest, most delicious drink just for me. And now, he was making it for her. Heather took another small sip, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. She settled back on the sofa, her pale, slender legs swinging playfully. I saw James’s gaze darken. It was a look I knew all too well. The look of desire. He reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. Just as their lips were about to meet, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Seeing me didn’t faze her. She stayed right where she was, draped over James, and simply tilted her head. “Oh, hi, Claire! We meet again!” she chirped. “Sorry about this, I twisted my ankle, and James was just taking a look. You don’t mind, do you?” She shifted her weight, and a low grunt escaped James’s lips. I took a slow breath, walked to the dining table, and set down the groceries. Then, I turned to my husband. “Let’s get a divorce.” 2 James refused. His excuse was that he hadn’t committed any “fundamental breach” of our marriage vows. He then mobilized our entire network of family and friends to talk me out of it. My in-laws, whom I had cared for for two decades, told me these young girls were shameless. They promised to set things right, to have James transfer five percent of his company shares to my name as compensation. Our mutual friends warned me that leaving would be playing right into the other woman’s hands. James’s business was booming; only a fool would walk away from that kind of wealth. My best friend was going through her own divorce. Her husband had also cheated, but he was broke and ugly. She sighed and suggested I just let it go. “At least James is rich,” she said. It seemed money was the ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card, capable of pardoning any sin within a marriage. I said nothing and continued gathering the documents I needed. My father heard the news and stormed over. The moment he walked in, he slapped me across the face, his voice booming. He called me ungrateful, reminding me that I was forty years old. Who would want me now? He looked healthy, flushed with life. Clearly, his new wife was taking good care of him, and my new little half-brother was a delight. He had no time for my petty grievances. The last person to try and change my mind was my daughter. When Jenna came home from college, my first instinct was to hug her. She shoved me away. “Why are you so determined to divorce Dad?” I, who had stood my ground against everyone else, felt myself shrink. “Your father is with another woman, honey. I can’t live like this anymore.” “You mean Heather? Dad told you, she’s just an intern from his office!” Jenna looked at me with an impatience that was a perfect echo of her father’s. “Mom, you’ve lived a life of luxury. Do you really think you can handle being on your own? Don’t come crying to me when you can’t.” Honestly, until that moment, I had believed that she, the child I had raised with my own hands, would be the one to give me a hug. I imagined her screaming at her father, demanding to know why he had hurt me, standing firmly by my side. Instead, she unleashed a torrent of anger at me, then stormed upstairs. SLAM! The sound of her door shutting rattled the house, and my soul along with it. Claire, how did you let your life come to this? That evening, for the first time in what felt like a year, James joined me in the shower. He entered the steamy bathroom, his eyes cold and distant. But his hands moved with a familiar confidence, tracing paths across my body. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay?” he murmured. “I’ll get rid of her tomorrow. She’ll be out of the company. You’ll never have to see her again.” A warmth spread across my skin, but a chilling frost was forming around my heart. I closed my eyes, letting the hot water mix with the silent tears rolling down my cheeks. “James.” “Hmm?” “Did you sleep with her?” “…” The silence was all the answer I needed. A wave of fury surged through me. “You… you make me sick.” That girl, Heather, was the same age as our daughter. If he’d chosen someone in their late twenties, or thirties, I could have chalked it up to a simple mid-life crisis. But he chose a girl young enough to be his child. A girl just starting out in the world. How could he? My words enraged him. He shoved me, hard. 3 A sharp pain shot through my ankle, but before I could react, he grabbed my chin and dragged me in front of the fogged-up mirror. “I make you sick? What about you? Aren’t you disgusting?” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “Look at yourself! Look at this haircut—it looks like a dog chewed it! Look at your breasts, they’re sagging down to your stomach! And your face, all those spots… it’s impossible to even look at you anymore!” “Claire, do you even look like a woman anymore?” His hand moved from my chin, cruelly squeezing my breast, his eyes like shards of ice. “We can stay like this. I’ll guarantee you a life of comfort. But if you divorce me, I swear I will make your life a living hell.” Long after he had left, I was still trembling. I couldn’t believe the man I had loved for twenty years could say such things. Or… had he changed long ago, and I had simply been too blind to see? I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, the sting of pain bringing a cold, sharp clarity. James Shaw, you think I’m powerless? You think you can do whatever you want? Just you wait. This divorce is happening. The next morning, James had, for the first time in ages, made breakfast. My daughter, Jenna, was already eating. She glanced at me and then quickly looked down, clearly still angry. He, however, played the peacemaker. “Jenna,” he said softly, “we agreed yesterday. We’re going to forgive your mother.” Jenna mumbled a reluctant, “Morning, Mom.” “She was tired from the trip yesterday,” James said, his eyes meeting mine with a look of undisguised triumph. “Come eat. I made your favorite, club sandwiches.” I didn’t say a word. A moment later, the doorbell rang. The housekeeper showed Heather in. “Good morning, Mrs. Shaw. I’m just here to drop off some files for James.” They exchanged a handshake that lingered a little too long. Jenna didn’t seem to notice or care; instead, she invited Heather to join them for breakfast. Heather feigned hesitation for a moment before gracefully sliding into my seat at the table. As if to spite me, Jenna pushed my plate of food in front of her. Then she poured her a glass of orange juice—my favorite. Heather, for her part, turned on the charm, doing everything she could to win Jenna over. They discovered they’d even gone to the same university. “Wow, Jenna, you’re so cool! I was worried you’d be like your mom and not like me…” Heather simpered. “My mom’s just going through menopause, she’s paranoid about everything,” Jenna replied dismissively. “She’s convinced you and my dad are having an affair. Just ignore her.” By the end of the meal, the two of them were acting like best friends. I had stopped listening the moment Jenna called me paranoid. I turned and walked out of the house. I had to see someone. An old classmate I hadn’t spoken to in over a decade. My first love, and now the city’s top litigator, Grant Hayes. 4 In a quiet corner of a coffee shop, I laid out the whole story for Grant. He just snorted. “You’re really ready to let him go?” All these years, and he was still as blunt as ever. If he’d been just a little gentler back then, maybe I never would have broken up with him. Not wanting to get into it with him, I pulled a card from my purse and slid it across the table. “I did my research. Your current rate is a million-dollar retainer. This is half. You’ll get the rest when the divorce is final. This is business, Grant. No feelings involved.” Grant picked up the card, flicked it between his fingers, and then tucked it into his jacket pocket. “Whatever you say, boss.” On the way out, he offered me a ride. Compared to my life of domestic bliss, his had been much harder. I’d heard his wife passed away from an illness a few years ago. They never had children. He’d since poured all his energy into his work, becoming the most sought-after lawyer in the city. Grant’s car was a loud-ass Maserati that roared to life. I couldn’t help but frown. “You’re a grown man. Why do you still like such flashy toys?” I wondered what his late wife had seen in him. He just arched an eyebrow. “You used to love this stuff, remember?” He had me there. In my twenties, I was all about the flash. But who has the energy for that at forty? I let it drop. When he dropped me off, I sent him a three-hundred-dollar transfer. G: ? C: For the ride. G: Got it, boss. Despite the flashy car, Grant gave me a mountain of solid advice. Following his instructions, I managed to get a clear picture of James’s finances. I also hired a private investigator who quickly found the address where he was keeping his little secret. It was an apartment I’d bought before we were married. We lived there when we were dating and for the first few years of our marriage. It was only after Jenna was born and we needed space for a nanny that we moved into our current house. I hadn’t been back in years. This is where he was hiding her? I found my old key and went over on a day I knew they’d be out. Inside, nothing had changed, except for the clutter of a new life. It was painfully obvious that Heather was desperate to marry James. Behind the sofa hung a portrait of them together. On the dining table sat a hand-crocheted doll she’d made. And in the kitchen, a rich, fragrant soup was simmering on low. If the portrait hadn’t been a carbon copy of one James and I had taken in that exact spot… If the doll hadn’t been a replica of my favorite orange plushie… And if the soup hadn’t been the exact recipe I had spent weeks developing to soothe James’s chronic stomach problems… Then maybe, just maybe, I could have applauded this happy little illicit love nest. But that soup recipe… I had only ever shared it with one person: my mother-in-law. Which meant that besides me, she was the only one who knew it. And now it was simmering in Heather’s kitchen. The weight of so many betrayals crashed down on me. Was I such a failure that everyone in my life felt no hesitation in hurting me? Just as I was drowning in despair, the door swung open. Heather burst in, beaming. She threw herself into James’s arms. “It’s wonderful! James, my love, I’m finally going to give you a son!” James stroked her cheek, a look of pure adoration on his face. Then he looked up, and his eyes met mine. For the first time in our twenty years together, I saw genuine panic on James Shaw’s face. … He never, in a million years, could have expected to find me here. But in that moment, a strange calm washed over me. I took out my phone and started recording. He saw the red light and lunged for it, but I stepped back. “Think carefully, James. This building has security cameras. If I get the footage, your reputation is finished.” James’s breath came in ragged gasps. He was a man accustomed to being in control, a titan of industry. This loss of control was making him visibly agitated. “Claire, stop this nonsense. Go home.” “I want a divorce.” “I’m not divorcing you. Get that idea out of your head!” “I want a divorce. We’ll sign the papers tomorrow. If not, you and your little secret will be front-page news.” “Why are you doing this? Have you thought about my parents? About your father? Have you thought about our daughter?” The mention of Jenna made something inside me snap. I grabbed a vase and hurled it to the floor. It shattered into a thousand pieces. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare bring them into this!” I screamed, rushing forward and slapping him hard across the face. “You bastard! You didn’t think about them when you were cheating on me! You didn’t think about them when you were getting another woman pregnant! And now that I’ve caught you red-handed, you have the nerve to tell me to think about them? What kind of world-class hypocrite are you?” “You’re nothing but a disgusting old man who can’t keep it in his pants! You think you can humiliate me and then silence me? Dream on! Either you sign those papers with me tomorrow, or we go to war, and I will burn everything to the ground. Your choice!” I went straight to Grant’s law firm. He was free and led me to a quiet office, pouring me a glass of water. “What happened? You look ready to kill someone.” “Don’t ask. I ran into the mistress. She’s pregnant.” “So, what’s your next move?” At the question, my anger flared again. “What can I do? Is there anything I can do now?” Grant paused, then pushed the glass of water closer to me. The small gesture extinguished my rage. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He shrugged. “It’s fine. The customer is always right.” … Grant explained that this development was actually a huge advantage for me. The photos I took in the apartment, combined with the fact that James now had a child with another woman, constituted irrefutable proof of adultery. This would significantly strengthen my position in the asset division. My mind felt numb. I couldn’t process any of it. When I left the firm, he offered me a ride, but I refused. I needed to walk. I needed to be alone. 5 I walked along the park trails for two or three hours. It was a Friday afternoon, and the park was mostly empty, save for a few people strolling. I saw a young couple, obviously deeply in love. The boy would snap a photo of the girl, then lean in and steal a kiss. Once upon a time, James and I were just like them. We met in high school and were inseparable through college, the campus’s golden couple. My family was well-off, and James was handsome, brilliant, and at the top of his class. Countless girls tried to steal him away. But James never wavered. He gave me a profound sense of security and even proposed to me in our sophomore year. In fairy tales, the prince and princess always end up at the altar. What they never tell you is that getting married is easy; staying married is the impossible part. After graduation, James took over his family’s business and multiplied its profits tenfold. He traveled constantly. The day our daughter was born, he was in another city signing a contract. My in-laws were old-fashioned and desperate for a grandson. After Jenna was born, they pressured me endlessly to try for another. James always shut them down. He was terrified of me going through another postpartum hemorrhage like the first one. He placed me on a pedestal, safe and secure inside an ivory tower. I never imagined the man holding me up had grown weary, or that he would let me fall without so much of a warning. Heather wasn’t the first. But she was the first one James allowed to be seen, to taunt me openly. He was testing me, trying to find the absolute limit of my tolerance. Or maybe, his ideal endgame was to have it all. When I finally got home, my in-laws were there, laughing and chatting happily with Jenna. My poor, foolish daughter. I had sheltered her so well that she was completely oblivious to the malice her grandparents held in their hearts. And there, in the center of them all, was Heather, smiling sweetly. James looked up and saw me. The red mark from my slap was still visible on his cheek. His expression wasn’t as pleased as I expected. Because he also saw the resolve in my eyes. After twenty years, we could still read each other without a word. His face instantly turned to stone. He turned to Heather. “You should go.” The warmth in the room evaporated. Heather was stunned. “Wh-what? Why?” “I said go.” In the Shaw household, money was power, and James’s word was law. My in-laws didn’t dare say a thing, confused by his sudden change of heart. My mother-in-law shot me a venomous glare. James called for the driver. Heather started to leave, looking back at him with every step. Jenna couldn’t take it anymore. “Mom, what is wrong with you?” she yelled. “Why are you making Heather leave? She came to see me! She’s my friend!” For the first time, I didn’t hold back. A cold laugh escaped my lips. “You want to be best friends with your father’s mistress?” “…I told you, it’s a misunderstanding! There’s nothing going on between them!” “Heather is pregnant with your father’s child.” Jenna’s face went pale. She turned to James. “Dad… is that true?” 6 James sent everyone away. We sat at opposite ends of the long dining table, the silence stretching between us. “I don’t understand, Claire. Why do you have to make things so ugly?” he finally said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I told you, Heather won’t affect your position. When the baby is born, you’ll be his mother. Nothing between us has to change.” I just stared at him. How could anyone say those words with a straight face? I was so stunned I started to laugh. “How could you possibly think that’s okay?” I asked him directly. He slammed his fist on the table. “Why shouldn’t it be okay? It’s how the world works!” “Look at Bob Henderson—sixty years old, and his new girlfriend just gave him a son. His wife even went over to help out after the birth! Look at Mr. Davies—he has a whole apartment building in the city filled with mistresses waiting for him to visit!” “So what have I done that’s so terrible? All I want is a son, something to make my parents happy. If your health hadn’t been an issue, do you think I would have looked elsewhere? Claire, search your heart. Have I not been good to you all these years?” His voice rose with each word, a crescendo of self-pity and indignation. “After your mother died, your father only cared about his new wife and son. It was my money that made them treat you with respect! Every time you went home and acted like a queen, who do you think was backing you up? It was me!” “Every class reunion, you showed up dripping in designer clothes and jewelry. Everyone envied you, flattered you. You think that was about you? They were kissing up to James Shaw!” “My mother has been begging me for a grandson for years, and I always told her no, that Jenna was enough. You think I don’t want a son? I have this massive company! Am I supposed to just hand it over to a stranger? Who’s the naive one here, Claire? You or me? Just drop it! Like your friend said, stop being so ungrateful!” He was shouting now, his face contorted with outrage, as if in this entire sordid affair, I was the one at fault. My laughter returned, sharp and bitter. It’s true what they say—at the peak of anger, all you can do is laugh. I didn’t know whether to curse his callous cruelty or laugh at my own foolishness. Twenty years of what I thought was a happy, loving marriage was, in his eyes, nothing more than charity. I looked at him, really looked at him. His face hadn’t changed much over the years, but now, all I saw was an ugly, repulsive stranger. I had no interest in a screaming match about who was right or wrong. At this point, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting what I was owed and getting out. I stood up and pulled a file from my bag. “Since you’re so unhappy with me, you shouldn’t have any problem with this. Here’s the divorce agreement. Sign it.” James stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I’ve said all that, and you still want a divorce?” “Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I do.” “Fine,” he snarled, grabbing the papers. “Don’t you dare regret this.” He scanned the pages, then seized a pen and, with a vicious stroke, ended our twenty years of marriage.

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Chapter 1 The day after Julian Vance’s engagement party, his assistant handed me a plane ticket. “It’s time for you to go,” he said, his gaze fixed on a point just over my shoulder. “And don’t come back to New York. Ever.” He let the threat hang in the air. “Mr. Vance has a great many ways to ruin a person.” All those years with Julian, I had been the envy of everyone, bathed in a light that wasn’t my own. Now, my exit was so pathetic it was almost comical. “Alright,” I said, my voice perfectly even. That night, the flight plummeted from thirty-thousand feet. I never planned on dying. In my version of the future, I take Julian’s five million dollars and disappear to some sun-drenched corner of Europe, far away from the wreckage of my life. The rest of my days would be a quiet succession of small joys, mine and mine alone. But in the screaming chaos of the fall, all of that was ripped away. There was nothing left but a searing, helpless rage. That ticket wasn’t a fresh start. It was a death sentence. My last meeting with Julian flashed in my mind. We hadn’t spoken in over two months. He’d been consumed—arranging Ava Monroe’s divorce, settling her and her daughter, a whirlwind of activity that finally, belatedly, reminded him he still had a girlfriend. So he carved out an hour and came to my apartment. His apartment, really. A sprawling penthouse in a part of Manhattan so exclusive I couldn’t have afforded to breathe the air without him. Not long ago, we were tangled in the sheets of the master bed, his arm heavy around my waist as I playfully dragged my nails down his back, leaving faint red trails on his skin. But now, after just weeks of silence, we were strangers. We sat at opposite ends of the long dining table, the polished wood a continent between us. “What do you want?” he asked. Direct. Cold. I didn’t bother with pleasantries. Three years of my youth. I told him they were worth five million dollars. Yes, I had loved him. I admit that. But that love had withered and died the day I realized I wasn’t the masterpiece, just the preliminary sketch. A placeholder until the real thing came back. He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Fine.” Then, the final turn of the screw. “But you can’t stay in New York. She doesn’t want you in the same city.” She. What could I do? I could only nod. If I refused, Julian, with his infinite resources and nonexistent patience, would find a way to force me out. And it would be far messier. He named a city on the West Coast. “I have properties there. Pick one. It’s yours.” So generous. I managed a smile. “Okay.” He gave a slight nod. “And we won’t see each other again. You can do that, can’t you?” My very existence was an inconvenience, an unsightly smudge on their perfect reunion. “Of course,” I replied. I was an orphan who had clawed her way through college. I came to New York chasing rumors of opportunity, fell into some modeling work, and started to enjoy it. The flash of the camera, the fleeting sense of being seen. Then I met Julian. He pursued me with the kind of grand, sweeping gestures you only see in movies, and within two weeks, I was his. He didn’t like me working, so my world, once expanding, had shrunk to the size of him. For years, the only people I knew were his friends. I had no roots here, no one to miss. I should have been thrilled to fly away and never look back. But fate, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor. I was dead. And I was staring right at Julian Vance. He couldn’t see me, of course. I was just a ghost. Chapter 2 I’d always cared about my appearance. Before boarding the plane, I’d had my hair professionally styled and wore a touch of light, natural makeup. I hadn’t worn my makeup like that in years. Julian never liked it. How naive I’d been, molding my entire existence to his preferences. I only learned later that his “preference” was a lie. He liked me in heavy, dramatic makeup because only then, with my eyes winged and my lips a slash of red, did I truly resemble her. Ava Monroe. The Oscar-winning actress, famous for her cascading waves and smoldering glamour. Now, in some small mercy from the universe, I looked just as I had before the crash. My hair was perfect. My makeup, immaculate. No trace of the violence of my death. Standing in Julian’s office, I studied my reflection in the polished glass of a framed photograph and breathed a sigh of spectral relief. My eyes drifted around the room. The leather of that couch… the view from that window at midnight… Memories, sharp and unwanted, pricked at me from every corner. Finally, I let my gaze settle on him. He was twenty-seven, a titan of industry with the kind of power most men only dream of. The greatest failure of his life had been watching the woman he loved marry someone else. But now, the one that got away had come back. A storybook ending. Even his assistant, Arthur, wore a smile when he entered the office. “Mr. Vance, the nursery is all set up,” he reported. “And the pieces Ms. Monroe selected yesterday have been delivered.” Julian murmured a soft, “Mm.” He set down a contract, massaged the bridge of his nose, and then picked up his phone. He stared at the screen for a long time. I drifted closer, curious. But before I could see, the screen went dark. Then I heard him speak. His voice was quiet. “How is she?” Arthur paused for a fraction of a second. “Ms. Monroe is on set, sir. Not far from here. Would you like to visit her later?” I’d seen one of Ava’s films. She played the princess of a fallen kingdom—beautiful, brilliant, a woman who loved and hated with equal ferocity. She clawed her way back to power through sheer force of will. If I were just another moviegoer, I would have adored her. But I wasn’t. Our first meeting had been a masterclass in humiliation. She’d looked me up and down, a small, knowing smile on her face. “Do you know how much you look like me?” I’d nodded. “People say that. I take it as a compliment.” Her laugh was a dry, rustling sound. “You’ve been with him almost three years, haven’t you?” “Yes.” She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Let me save you some time. He was in love with me three years ago.” Three years. And not a single person had ever told me. I’d been a fool, a stand-in for a ghost. I later found out that every script she’d ever accepted had been hand-picked by Julian, quietly steered onto her path to ensure she never faced a single setback. Her career was a monument to his unseen devotion. And me? I had nothing. To the world, I wasn’t Chloe. I was just “that woman you always see with Julian Vance.” Chapter 3 Arthur finished his update, but Julian remained silent, tapping a sleek fountain pen against his desk. After a long moment, he asked, “She should have landed by now, right?” The question seemed to come from nowhere, but Arthur, ever the consummate professional, didn’t miss a beat. He glanced at his watch. “Yes, she should have.” It took me a second to realize. He was asking about me. A flicker of something—conscience, maybe? Too bad. I hadn’t made it to the other side of the country. My journey ended last night, in a fiery wreck. Julian’s face showed nothing at the confirmation. He just woke his phone again, staring at the blank screen. This time, I was right beside him. I saw it clearly. It was our text thread. Thirty minutes ago, he’d sent a message. [If you ever need anything, contact Arthur.] In the past, I would have replied in seconds. Hearing Arthur’s response, a cold, humorless smile touched Julian’s lips. He leaned back in his chair. “Good.” Then, another question. “Has she tried to contact you?” Arthur shook his head. “No, sir. Not since I gave her the ticket.” Silence descended again. The air in the room grew heavy, thick with unspoken things. Arthur hesitated. “Sir, would you like me to place a call to Ms. Devereaux?” Julian finally looked up, his eyes veiled. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. “No,” he said, his voice flat. “From now on, I don’t need to be updated on her affairs.” He glanced one last time at our message history. The silence on my end was absolute. His thumb paused over my name for a fraction of a second before he pressed ‘Delete Contact.’ Chapter 4 And there it was. It wasn’t concern. It was housekeeping. A final, formal severing of ties. A wave of impotent fury washed over me. Damn it, I died! My plan had been to land, settle into my new mansion, and then have the supreme satisfaction of blocking his number myself. He’d stolen even that from me. I swung my leg back and kicked him hard in the thigh. Or, I tried to. Back when things were good, when he wasn’t a remote, untouchable figure, I had a habit of giving him little kicks when he annoyed me. It was an instinctive, fluid motion. But this time, my foot passed right through him. No impact. No feeling. Nothing. Which, of course, only made me angrier. After Arthur left, Julian worked for hours. I tried to leave the office, to explore my new, incorporeal existence. But every time I neared the door, I was snapped back to his side, like a dog on an invisible leash. It didn’t take long to figure it out. I was tethered to him. Maybe because his money had put me on that plane. My killer, my anchor. A pity I hadn’t come back as a vengeful spirit. I could have at least haunted him properly. Just then, a voice echoed in my mind, calm and bureaucratic. [There you are.] I jolted. “Who are you?” [Post-Mortal Affairs. We had a system glitch. Everyone from your flight is temporarily bound to the person they were closest to in life. Sorry for the inconvenience.] Relief washed over me. “Can you take me now? And listen, I had a lot of money I didn’t get to spend. Can that roll over to my next life?” A trust-fund baby. That was my dream. The voice sounded apologetic. [Not my department. But given the traumatic nature of your demise, I can probably get you a more peaceful exit next time around.] Great. “Fine. Just get me out of here. I’m ready to reincarnate.” [Not yet. We have to wait until your funeral is concluded.] “Why?” [Your soul has established a new tether to the mortal plane. The funeral rites sever that tie. From what I can see, the services for the other victims are already being arranged. You’re… well, you’re a bit of a special case. Doesn’t look like anyone’s noticed you’re gone.] The words were a blade to the heart. With that cheerful update, the voice vanished. I sighed, running through a mental list of everyone I knew. The list was pathetically short. It looked like I was going to be a lonely ghost for a very long time. Hours later, Julian finally packed up. Ava had called, asking him to pick her up from the studio. I followed him down to the garage and into his car. I didn’t look at him. I watched the city lights blur past the window. Skyscrapers like glittering spines, streets flowing with rivers of light. It was all so beautiful, a dream I had woken up from too soon. A profound sense of unfairness settled over me. All those years, all that potential, erased by one failed love affair. And that five million dollars… I hadn’t spent a single cent. It was outrageous. Tears I couldn’t shed burned behind my eyes. When we arrived, Ava emerged from the studio and melted into his arms. Julian’s body went rigid for a second, then relaxed as he returned the embrace with a faint smile. “How was it? Are you tired?” he asked. She nodded, launching into a story about her day. Her voice was captivating; she could make the most mundane event sound like a scene from a movie. They walked to the car, fingers interlaced, matching engagement rings catching the light. I had to admit it, as much as it galled me. They looked perfect together. Just then, two women walked out of the studio behind them, deep in conversation. “Did you see the news?” one said. “That flight that went down last night? Over a hundred people, no survivors.” “I saw,” the other replied, her voice shaky. “I was supposed to be on that flight. I had a ticket and everything for a vacation. This last-minute role saved my life. I have the luck of the gods.”

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Three years of quiet recuperation in Europe were shattered by a single, explosive livestream. The title was pure clickbait, designed to snag eyeballs: [A-LIST STAR DESTROYS B-MOVIE ACTRESS—SCENES YOU WON’T BELIEVE!] I was about to scoff at the tabloid trash when the face on the screen resolved into focus. The so-called B-movie actress, the woman they were tearing apart, was none other than Anya—my best friend, the one I’d left behind to chase her dreams in the glittering, venomous world of Hollywood. And she was on her knees, trembling, her clothes nearly ripped from her body. The backdrop was horrifyingly familiar. It was the sprawling Hamptons estate I’d lent her, a ten-million-dollar sanctuary now turned into a public pillory. A circle of viciously beautiful starlets, dressed in garish designer clothes, swarmed her. “What do you mean, your ‘best friend’s’ mansion?” one of them sneered, her voice dripping with condescension. “Everyone knows Lila’s new boyfriend, Mr. Vance, gave her this estate for the shoot!” A woman in a pristine white dress, clearly the queen bee, stepped forward. Lila. She played the part of the gracious host, her expression a mask of feigned sympathy. “This beautiful home was a gift from Julian,” she purred, her eyes glittering with malice. “But if you’re desperate to come inside, I suppose there’s a way. You could always… crawl. After all,” she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you’re used to baring it all for an audience, aren’t you? An actress of your… caliber… should be comfortable with that.” The comments section scrolled by in a blur of cruelty. [LILA IS A QUEEN! YES! Put that trash in her place!] [Her ‘best friend’ is probably some sugar daddy’s mistress too!] Mr. Vance? Julian Vance? My fiancé? A cold fury, sharp and sudden, pierced through my shock. What stray cat had dragged herself onto my doorstep, claiming my home and tormenting my friend in my name? I was seeing red. Without a second thought, I booked the first flight back to New York. Then, I dialed my fiancé’s number. “You have ten minutes,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Get to the Havenmoor Estate. And you’re going to tell every single person there who this house really belongs to.” Chapter 1 By the time I clicked into the livestream, hoping to shower Anya with enough digital gifts to crash the server, the nightmare was already in full swing. There she was, holding the keys I’d given her, barred from entering the main gate. No matter how many times she pleaded, her voice cracking, “This is my best friend’s house, she told me I could use it!” the security guards remained impassive statues. “Mr. Vance’s orders are clear,” one of them stated, his voice flat. “Miss Lila is the host for today’s event.” I felt a dizzying wave of confusion. This was supposed to be Anya’s big break—her debut on a hit reality show where the cast lives together in a location provided by one of the guests. I couldn’t be there to support her, but I’d made damn sure she’d have a backdrop that would make her shine. Havenmoor was worth more than the entire production budget. So what the hell was happening? The other starlets closed in on Anya like sharks sensing blood. “An actress with your reputation, from your kind of films? What powerful friend could you possibly have?” one of them mocked. “Don’t tell me she’s another bottom-feeder who slept her way to a bit part! She could afford this place? Don’t make me laugh! Julian gave this to Lila!” “Your ‘best friend’ probably knows some producer who knows Julian, and you twisted that into this pathetic lie. It’s hilarious!” Lila, in her angelic white dress, positioned herself as the mansion’s rightful mistress. She looked down at Anya, her face a perfect portrait of pity, but her eyes were dancing with triumph. “Anya, darling, if you couldn’t secure a location, you should have just said so. We would have understood. There was no need to make up such a… desperate story. Claiming Julian’s gift to me belongs to your friend? It’s just embarrassing.” Seeing Lila, Anya flinched, a conditioned reflex of fear. But then, a flicker of courage, likely fueled by thoughts of me, returned to her eyes. “This estate really is my friend’s,” she insisted, her voice trembling but firm. “I have proof…” She never got to finish. A glass of ice water flew through the air, soaking the front of her thin blouse. The fabric turned translucent, clinging to her skin and revealing the delicate lace of her bra. The director and crew, instead of intervening, zoomed in. The camera lens became a predator, leering at Anya’s exposed and humiliated form. Lila’s mask of innocence slipped, revealing a flash of pure contempt. She was the one who’d “accidentally” spilled the drink. “Oh, clumsy me,” she said, her tone devoid of any real apology. “My hand slipped. But we can’t delay the shoot. Why don’t you just take that wet thing off before you come inside? Julian gave me this home, and I must take care of it. If you were to drip on the antiques… well, I doubt even selling yourself would cover the damages.” She raked her eyes over Anya’s body and let out a small, cruel laugh. “Besides, you’re an actress who got her start in skin flicks. You must be used to using your body to get attention, right?” All the color drained from Anya’s face. She mumbled a protest, but Lila’s posse was already on her, their manicured fingers clawing at her clothes. The livestream chat erupted in a frenzy. [DRAG HER! I’ve hated this slut forever!!] [She’s such a cheap whore, always flaunting her body then pretending to be a victim. It’s disgusting!] [Lila is the ultimate BS detector in this industry! Rip that fake innocent act right off her!] I blinked, scrubbing at my eyes, convinced I was hallucinating. But no. The woman being savaged on screen was Anya. My Anya. And the stage for her torment was my home, Havenmoor Estate. The house my grandfather had gifted me after Julian Vance and I were engaged, the place I had bought and intended to be our marital home. My name was on the deed. The purchase agreement was in my safe. I’d followed my parents abroad after the engagement, wanting to spend more time with them as they settled into retirement. The house had sat empty, waiting for my return. But even if I wasn’t living in it, what did that have to do with Lila and this “Mr. Vance” she was clinging to? On the screen, Anya was losing the fight. The buttons on her soaked shirt gave way. She crossed her arms over her chest, a desperate, futile attempt to preserve the last shred of her dignity. Tears streamed down her face. “Please,” she sobbed, “I’m done! I’ll quit the show! Just let me go, please!” Lila’s laugh was a cold, sharp blade. “You signed a contract. You don’t just get to quit. As the host of this party, I’m in charge now. You have two options: strip naked and crawl inside, or pay the three-million-dollar breach of contract fee. Your choice.” Seeing the absolute despair shatter Anya’s face, my vision went white with rage. What vulture had dared to squat in my nest, to break my friend in my own home? The flight couldn’t be fast enough. I was coming home. And I was going to personally show them who the mistress of Havenmoor really was. Chapter 2 When my flight touched down at JFK, the show was already filming its second day. I drove straight to the Hamptons, a team of my family’s security following close behind. Ignoring the frantic shouts of the production’s guards, I stormed into the mansion. The scene that greeted me stopped my heart. Anya was on her knees, dressed in a ridiculously short, demeaning maid’s outfit. In front of her was a puddle of half-chewed food, a vomit-like concoction someone had clearly spat on the marble floor. Lila stood over her, tapping her foot, her brow furrowed in mock disappointment. “Anya, your punishment for yesterday was to serve the other guests today. But you can’t even keep the floor clean? This simply won’t do. Here, let me help you.” With a sickening grace, she lifted her foot and pressed her designer heel onto the back of Anya’s head, grinding it down, trying to force her face into the filth. My blood ran cold. I moved without thinking, crossing the room in three strides and swinging my hand with all my might. The crack of my palm against Lila’s cheek echoed in the cavernous hall. Lila staggered back with a cry of pain. I seized the moment, pulling Anya up from the floor and into my arms. Seeing her like this—broken, bruised, trembling—felt like a physical blow to my own heart. My eyes burned with tears. I held her tight. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m late. I’m so sorry I let them do this to you.” It took a moment for her to realize it was me. The trembling slowly subsided, but then, to my horror, she wrenched herself out of my embrace. She pushed me away, her eyes wide with terror, and turned to grovel before Lila again. “Miss Lila, it’s all my fault! Please, it was all me!” she cried, scrambling to clean the mess. “Blame me! I’ll clean it right now!” The shock of being slapped finally registered on Lila’s face. She clutched her swelling cheek, her gentle facade crumbling into a screeching rage. “How dare you hit me! Are you insane? Do you have any idea who I am?!” My heart ached as I looked at Anya. Before I left, she had been so full of life, so vibrant, promising me she would take Hollywood by storm. Three years. How had they beaten her down into this terrified, submissive shell? Rage, pure and undiluted, surged through me. I grabbed Anya’s arm, refusing to let her kneel. “You will not kneel,” I commanded, my voice like steel. “I’m here now. I’ve got your back.” Then I turned and drove my foot squarely into Lila’s stomach. “What if I hit you? Even if God himself came down from heaven, I’d still hit you today,” I spat. “And let’s see who dares to stop me.” Lila shrieked and fell backward, landing right in the pile of regurgitated food. The other starlets, finally snapping out of their stupor, rushed to help her, only to recoil in disgust at the mess staining her white dress. “You lunatic! Where did you come from?” one of them shrieked. “Don’t you know Lila is the apple of Mr. Vance’s eye?” “You touch her, and Julian will have you both buried in unmarked graves!” Lila’s fans in the livestream chat exploded. [Is that Anya’s ‘best friend’? She looks like a slut from the same B-movies!] [Probably got off her knees in some coal baron’s office just long enough to come here and act tough!] [Our Lila is backed by Julian Vance, a titan of New York! He buys her multi-million dollar diamond necklaces like they’re candy!] [Look at her, renting a few bodyguards to act tough. How pathetic.] Hearing them chant Julian’s name over and over, a disturbing thought began to crystallize. “Mr. Vance? Julian Vance?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft. Lila, surrounded by her fawning court, heard me mention his name and seemed to think I was finally scared. She lifted her chin, her face a mask of arrogant disdain. “You’re not worthy of speaking his name. Even gutter trash like you knows the power of the Vance family in this city. It’s too late for regrets now.” I almost laughed out loud. This was the same Julian Vance who had been leaving me pleading voicemails just last night, begging to know when I was coming home so we could finally set a wedding date. And now, he was supposedly some romantic hero, ready to burn the world down for this woman? Chapter 3 I pulled out my phone and dialed Julian’s number. He answered on the second ring, his voice giddy with surprise. “Clara? You’re calling me? Did you miss me? Just hold on, once I close this deal, I’ll fly out to see you.” I cut him off, my voice like ice. “Don’t bother. You can see me right now at Havenmoor. You have ten minutes to get your ass over here and tell everyone in this house who its owner really is.” The room erupted in laughter. Lila and her entourage were practically bent over, clutching their stomachs. “Are you trying to tell us you just called the Julian Vance? You’re really committing to the role, aren’t you?” “Your best friend is a B-movie starlet who sells her body for parts. Do you really think you’re any better?” “God, I hate posers. Can you just stop?” “If Mr. Vance isn’t here in ten minutes, you can get on your knees and service us right next to Anya.” Anya was shaking, her hand clutching my sleeve. “Clara, let’s just go,” she begged. “We can’t win against them.” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “There’s no one in this entire city I can’t afford to piss off.” Ten minutes later, the aggressive roar of a supercar engine announced an arrival. Julian Vance, dressed in an impeccable black suit, strode into the villa. He saw me, and a smile started to form on his lips, but then his eyes landed on Lila, standing behind me with a look of pure victimhood. His expression soured instantly. He frowned at me. “Clara? What’s going on? Did you hit Lila?” I had been waiting for an explanation, for him to clear this whole mess up. Instead, he questioned me. My hand moved on its own. I slapped him, hard. “I didn’t just hit her. I hit you, too,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Is that how you speak to me? I suggest you think very carefully before you open your mouth again.” Lila shrieked and threw herself at Julian, clutching him protectively, tears streaming down her face. “Miss, even if you’re jealous that Julian gave this mansion to me, you can’t resort to violence!” I crossed my arms, my gaze fixed on Julian. My expression was thunderous. “The deed is in my name. The purchase contract is in my safe. Since when did you have the authority to give my property away to someone else?” Lila’s head snapped toward Julian. “Julian, is what she’s saying true?” The anger on Julian’s face froze, replaced by a flash of panicked embarrassment. He lowered his voice, hissing at me, “Clara, can you stop being so unreasonable? I’ve made a decision. You’ll bring the deed over later and sign it over to Lila. This was supposed to be our marital home anyway, which makes me half an owner!” His words were so absurd, so utterly delusional, that I actually did laugh. Then I slapped him again. “You’re a glorified gigolo who begged my family for this engagement, and you have the audacity to act powerful in front of me?” Julian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Clara, you—!” But I wasn’t done. For Anya, I grabbed her hand and, with her beside me, I began to slap Lila, one strike after another. “This one,” I said as my palm met her cheek, “is for slandering her career.” “This one is for squatting in the home I lent her.” “And this one is for every tear you made her cry, for every ounce of dignity you stole from her, for turning her into this.” Anyone who tried to intervene was instantly restrained by my security team. A moment ago, when Lila was leading the charge against Anya, the livestream comments were silent. Now, they were a torrent of outrage—all directed at me. [What kind of security is this? Letting some psycho barge in and assault people!] [This is live! She’s committing a crime in front of thousands of people!] [I’m calling the cops! If the show won’t do anything, the police will!] The once-pristine goddess and her powerful CEO protector now stood with faces swollen and red, utterly speechless. I stopped, rubbing my wrist, and turned my cold gaze back to Julian. “It seems you’ve had it too easy for too long,” I said. “You’ve forgotten whose money your family was built on. I’m giving you one last chance. Get these people, and yourself, out of my house. And tell them who is the master of this estate.” Before Julian could answer, a furious voice boomed from the doorway. “Who else could it be? It’s Lila, of course!”

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Three years. That’s how long it had been. Stepping off the plane at JFK, the crisp New York air was a shock to the system. The first thing I did was call Leo. Then I called him again. And again. A dozen calls, each one swallowed by the dead air of his voicemail. Then, something impossible happened. Shimmering, translucent text began to scroll across my vision, like a glitch in reality itself. 【Oh, hell no. The villainess is back early. This is going to derail everything.】 【The timing couldn’t be worse. Chloe just had the baby. Leo needs to be focused on winning her back, not dealing with this obsessive ex.】 【Don’t worry, it’s part of the plan. He’s going to trick her into finding the baby and raising it as her own. She’s about to become the world’s most bitter nanny.】 I blinked, shaking my head as if to clear it. Just then, my phone buzzed to life. Leo. “Stella,” he said, his voice rushed, clipped. “Something’s come up. I’m at the old lodge upstate. Just meet me there tonight.” 【Here we go. The setup. The lodge is completely deserted. She’ll have no choice but to take the baby.】 Before I could reply, the line went dead. In that split second of silence, I could have sworn I heard the soft sigh of a woman in the background. My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel of the rental. For a long moment, I stared at the GPS, its cheerful line pointing me north toward the Catskills. Then, with a decisive twist, I spun the car around and merged onto the highway, heading in the exact opposite direction. 1 【Wait… what? She’s not going?】 【That’s not right. She’s his lapdog. He says jump, she asks how high. Why isn’t she obeying?】 【What about the baby?! Is she just going to let it die? A newborn, left alone in that empty lodge… it’ll freeze to death!】 Fat, heavy snowflakes began to drift down, blanketing the world in white. I watched the frantic text scroll past my eyes, my heart a cold, hard knot in my chest. So, that was it. I was the designated villain in some twisted romance novel. The plot, as laid out by my phantom commentators, was sickeningly simple. Leo, my Leo, gets drugged at a business meeting and has a one-night stand with a doe-eyed waitress, Chloe. She, of course, gets pregnant and vanishes. What follows is a dramatic cat-and-mouse game. He pursues her, she flees, their passion reignited with every clandestine meeting. Once the child is born, there’s just one inconvenient obstacle: me. His fiancée. So, he concocts a plan to leave the baby on a remote doorstep for me to find, saddling me with his illegitimate child. In this story, we would marry, but he would vow never to touch me, remaining faithful to his one true love. I would live out my days as a barren wife, pouring all my love into a child that wasn’t mine. A son who would grow up to despise me. The ghostly text had shown me the finale: me, paralyzed by a sudden illness, helpless in my bed. My adopted son, the boy I raised, would be the one to poison me slowly, torturing me until my last breath. His revenge for the crime of standing between his parents. After my death, Leo and Chloe would finally unite their perfect family. Chloe, the story’s benevolent heroine, would look at my portrait with pity, forgiving me for “hoarding” her husband and child, and wishing that in my next life, I would be reborn as a beast of burden to atone for my sins. My hands trembled on the wheel, not with sorrow, but with a white-hot rage. I had defied my family for him. Turned my back on a strategic marriage alliance to sponsor a brilliant, destitute student I’d met in the city. When I found Leo, he was half-dead in an alley, beaten bloody by loan sharks. I paid for his recovery. I settled his family’s debts. I funded his mother’s life-saving surgery. I remember him looking up at me, his eyes wet with devotion. “Stella,” he’d whispered, “I’m yours for life.” When my own parents fell ill and I had to move overseas to manage the family’s international affairs, he held my hands, his gaze earnest and true. “Go take care of them, Stella. I’ll be here. This will always be your home. When you come back, we’ll get married.” I handed him the keys to my domestic operations, my entire portfolio of companies. I leveraged my connections abroad to secure him funding, to build his name. In three short years, he had become a titan of industry. And the first thing he did with that power was become the protagonist of a trashy novel—cheating, fathering a child, and plotting to ruin my life to complete his perfect little family. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. All those years of love, of support, of sacrifice… to him, they were just chains he was desperate to break. Fine, Leo. You want your freedom? You can have it. The Uber turned through the gates of my estate on Long Island. I hadn’t been back in years, but even in the dead of night, the place was ablaze with light. My father had commissioned it for me, a masterpiece of modern architecture completed just before the New Year. This was the first chance I’d had to see it. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the grand hall, I saw the custom-made, eight-hundred-thousand-dollar crystal chandelier I’d designed, its light scattered like a captured galaxy. Ornate decorations draped from the vaulted ceiling, all centered on a massive birthday portrait. The girl in the photo, beaming like a princess, was not me. 【Chloe’s birthday party is stunning! So magical.】 【I heard Leo spent a fortune on this, flew in the world’s best chefs!】 【Forget the chefs, he’s giving her this entire estate! Talk about devoted…】 My estate. He was giving my estate to his mistress. Leo, you audacious bastard. There she was, Chloe, standing at the entrance like she owned the place. She was wearing one of my couture gowns and, around her neck, the emerald necklace that had belonged to my grandmother. “What is this? Do you know where you are?” she sneered, her eyes raking over the simple black car I’d arrived in. “You probably can’t even afford to replace the grass you’re standing on. Security! Get this trash out of here.” Her friends giggled, pointing at my Uber. I had told Leo I’d arrange my own transport, never imagining he’d stand me up so completely. To them, I was just some hired driver, an insect to be flicked away. I walked forward, my steps silent on the heated stone. Before she could react, I snatched the necklace from her throat and struck her across the face. The sound of the slap was sharp, clean, and utterly satisfying. “The only one getting out,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “is you.” Chloe stared, her hand flying to her reddening cheek. The shimmering text in the air went haywire. 【HOLY SHIT! The villain just snapped! She hit the heroine at her own birthday party!】 【Where are the bodyguards?! Throw her out!】 【Uh… guys? Isn’t this technically… her house?】 That last comment was lost in the flood. Chloe let out a piercing shriek. Her friends swarmed around her, one of them pointing a trembling finger at me. “Do you have any idea who she is? How dare you touch her!” I just smiled, weighing the heavy emerald in my palm. The friend grew bolder. “You couldn’t afford a single stone in that necklace if you sold your pathetic life! Get on your knees and apologize to Chloe right now!” “What’s going on here?!” A figure burst through the doorway, shaking snow from his designer coat as he rushed to Chloe’s side, pulling her into a protective embrace. It was Leo. My boyfriend of three years, who I hadn’t laid eyes on until this very moment. He looked from Chloe’s tear-streaked face to me, and the anger in his eyes morphed into stunned disbelief. “Stella? What are you doing here?” At the sound of my name, Chloe stiffened. She gripped Leo’s arm, and they exchanged a look—a flicker of shared conspiracy. So, the little ingenue knew exactly who I was. How cold-blooded do you have to be to plan on handing your own child over to the woman you’re betraying? A security guard approached nervously. “Mr. Blackwood, do you know this woman?” Leo nodded, his eyes darting past me, scanning the car I’d arrived in. I knew what he was looking for. Chloe, ever the performer, composed herself. “It’s alright,” she announced to the crowd, her voice trembling gracefully. “She’s… an old neighbor of Leo’s. She’s always been a little obsessed with him. I heard she just got dumped. It must have unhinged her.” A wave of understanding rippled through the guests. Their expressions shifted from confusion to contempt. “A stalker? How pathetic.” “Chloe is too kind, honestly. Being so gracious to a desperate hanger-on.” “Leo and Chloe built their success together from nothing. This woman needs to accept that she lost and crawl back into whatever hole she came from.” I let out a short, sharp laugh that cut through the murmurs. “From nothing?” I locked eyes with Leo. He flinched, looking away. He knew. Without the money I’d poured into his education, his mother’s health, his first business venture, he wouldn’t have a penny to his name. He’s be a bloody smear in a back alley. He had sworn to make something of himself, and I had handed him every resource, every connection, every opportunity to do so. Even from halfway across the world, my support had never wavered. But his guilt was fleeting. “Chloe was the one by my side these last three years,” he snarled, his voice regaining its strength. “What have you done?” My face hardened. He took a step toward my car, his voice rising for the benefit of the audience. “Look, Chloe and I aren’t cruel people. We won’t abandon you. Even if you’re coming back with a kid, we’ll help you take care of it…” His words trailed off. His bravado crumbled into confusion, then raw anxiety. He had wrenched open the front door, then the back. He even popped the trunk. There was nothing. Only my suitcase. No baby. Leo’s face went chalk-white. He spun around, grabbing my shoulders, his grip bruising. “You didn’t go to the lodge, did you?” he whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying mix of fear and rage. The pain was sharp, and I shoved him away in disgust. “It’s a derelict building in the middle of nowhere. Why on earth would I go there on a night like this?” “I told you to go there!” he roared, his control finally shattering. “Why don’t you ever just listen! If something… if something happened, I will never forgive you!” Chloe’s eyes widened in horror. In an instant, she understood. Her face contorted into a mask of pure hatred, and she lunged at me. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!” I sidestepped her easily. Hampered by the tight gown, she tumbled down the short flight of stairs, landing in a heap. A dark stain began to spread across the pale fabric of her dress. She let out a guttural scream of pain. Leo’s head snapped toward me. He strode forward and slapped me, hard. My head rang, and a fiery pain exploded across my cheek. “If anything happens to Chloe or the baby, you’re dead,” he hissed, his face inches from mine, his eyes promising murder. He jabbed a finger at my chest, as if marking his sworn enemy. He scrambled for his phone, barking orders for an ambulance and sending his assistant racing to the lodge. I touched my tongue to the inside of my swollen cheek. It seemed a dog that won’t learn to heel must be put down. 【What’s happening? Isn’t the villain supposed to find the baby with him? Am I reading a bootleg copy?】 【OMG, their poor baby! Please be okay, please be okay! If the baby dies, that bitch deserves to burn!】 【Hold on… They’re the ones who left their own kid in the middle of nowhere and expected their rival to play babysitter. Are we sure they’re the heroes here?】 A fierce debate erupted in the shimmering text. I spat a wad of blood onto the pristine snow. Suddenly, a team of black-suited security guards swarmed me, pinning my arms behind my back. “You hurt Chloe, and now you think you can just walk away?” I struggled, trying to see who was speaking. A familiar silhouette stepped out of the light. “Julian?” I whispered. The text feed went wild. 【It’s the second male lead! The tortured one who loves the heroine from afar! He’s finally stepping up for her!】 【Yes! Get the villainess out of here! I’m ready for the love triangle drama!】 【Don’t worry, guys. The more arrogant she is now, the more pathetic she’ll be later.】 Julian? The second male lead? My parents were always working when I was young. I grew up with Julian, my father’s much younger half-brother. He was my uncle, but with only a few years between us, he was more like a best friend, a brother. I had always believed his affection was real. “You’re my guiding star, Stella,” he used to say, his eyes full of adoration. The man standing before me now, his face a mask of cold fury, was a stranger. The realization was a dull ache in my chest. He crouched in front of me, his fingers digging into my jaw, forcing my head up. His eyes widened for a second. “Stella?” Chloe, sobbing, threw herself into his arms. Seeing the blood on her dress, a wave of anguish washed over Julian’s face. He turned and kicked me hard in the stomach. “I can’t believe you’ve become this monstrous,” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “You want to hurt people? Let’s see how you like it.” The blow had been delivered with full force. It felt like my insides were shattering. I collapsed, coughing up a mouthful of blood. My fingers fumbled for the emerald necklace I still clutched in my hand. “Julian… do you remember this?” It was from our grandmother, the woman who had raised us both. My initials were engraved on the back. He hesitated. Chloe’s weeping intensified. “I was just borrowing it! She attacked me, she ripped it from my neck!” she cried, pointing to a scratch on her skin. Julian’s face hardened again. “It’s a thing, Stella. Grandma would never forgive you for hurting someone over a piece of metal.” Whispers erupted from the crowd. “She’s a Vance? I thought she was a stalker.” “The Stella Vance? She wouldn’t act this unhinged… would she?” “Wait, if Chloe is so worried about a baby… whose baby is it?” Someone’s voice cut through the noise. “Hang on, isn’t this the Vance estate?” Chloe’s face paled. In the next instant, she feigned a stumble, her heel coming down hard on my outstretched fingers. I cried out in pain as she let out a theatrical gasp and fell backward. Julian caught her instantly. And I watched, helpless, as her foot kicked the necklace from my grasp. It skittered across the stone and disappeared with a soft splash into the ornamental pond. “Call the police!” I screamed, scrambling to my feet. “This is my house! I want every single one of these bastards thrown out!” Hearing that I was, in fact, the lady of the house, the guards hesitated. I pulled out my phone, but Julian slapped it from my hand, sending it skittering across the floor. “Think carefully,” he hissed at the guards, his voice low and menacing. “Who holds the power at Vance Industries right now?” The ghostly text flared. 【Damn, he’s so protective! I’m officially shipping him and Chloe!】 【Too bad he’s just an adopted son. Otherwise, the villainess wouldn’t dare challenge him.】 【LOL who cares if he’s adopted? Once Stella’s dead, he’ll inherit half the Vance fortune anyway. It’ll all go to Chloe in the end!】 Of course. More than one snake in the nest. “Lock her up,” Julian commanded. “For disgracing the Vance name, she’ll be confined for forty-eight hours.” The guards looked at each other, then moved toward me. I pulled a small, folding knife from my belt—a gift from my father. “Stay back,” I warned, my voice shaking with rage and pain. “I’ll kill the first person who touches me.” They paused, wary of the desperation in my eyes. But then a blur of motion—Leo. He kicked the knife from my hand. His face was a thundercloud of grief and fury. “You killed my son,” he choked out. Chloe’s eyes fluttered open, wide with horror. “Leo… what did you say?”

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Death gives you a terrible kind of clarity. After dying once, I remembered every single word in my niece Chloe’s diary. She’d written: August 15th. Aunt Ellie bought me a new phone, but she got her daughter the latest model. It’s her way of reminding me I’m just an outsider here. She forgot that I took her in when no one else would. She forgot the sleepless nights I spent by her bedside when she was sick. She forgot that to save her from feeling like a second-class citizen in my own home, I bought two of everything. None of that made it into her diary. Instead, I was beaten to death by her ignorant, brutish father—my own brother—over a fabricated argument. When I woke up, reborn, the clock was ticking backwards. It was August 14th. In front of the whole family, I placed two identical, brand-new, top-of-the-line phones on the table. One for my daughter, Annie, and one for Chloe. As my niece’s eyes widened in a performance of surprise, I stroked her hair, my voice as smooth as honey. “Chloe, honey, your dad will need to pay me back for the phone. I just fronted the money for it. And since the factory is struggling, maybe it’s a good time for him to settle up for all your years of room and board, too.” 1 I set the two identical boxes on the coffee table, one in front of my daughter, Annie, and the other in front of my niece, Chloe. Chloe’s eyes lit up with a look of practiced surprise, a performance I knew all too well. I smiled and gently patted her head. “Chloe, sweetie, I fronted the money for this phone, but it’s from your dad. It was $999. Just remind him to transfer me the money, okay?” I paused, letting the words hang in the air. “And speaking of which, with the factory having a tough year, now is probably a good time for him to square up for your living expenses for the last eight years. Just so we’re all on the same page.” The air in the living room turned to ice. My brother, Mark, froze, his mouth half-open, a sunflower seed forgotten on his tongue. His eyes, small and hard, bulged. “Ellie, what the hell are you talking about? Are you trying to shake down a kid for money?” His wife, Brenda, chimed in, her voice a shrill nail on a chalkboard. “Exactly! You make good money, what’s the big deal? Chloe looks up to you like a mother! Are you trying to stab the girl in the heart?” As if on cue, she pulled Chloe into a dramatic hug. Chloe immediately buried her face in Brenda’s shoulder, her own shoulders starting to shake with practiced sobs. Her eyes, peeking out at me, were red-rimmed and filled with a theatrical sense of betrayal. In my last life, that would have been enough. I would have crumbled, apologizing, forcing the phone into her hands, probably slipping a hundred-dollar bill inside the case to smooth things over. But now, looking at that angelic, tear-streaked face, all I felt was a cold knot of nausea in my stomach. This was the same face that had watched impassively as her father beat me to the brink of death. The same girl who then quietly closed her bedroom door and turned her music up to drown out my dying gasps. The same girl who, after my death, inherited everything I owned, wore the designer clothes I’d bought her, and lorded over my daughter, Annie, calling her “the little charity case.” Looking at these parasites, I let a serene smile touch my lips. “Mark, Brenda, you misunderstand. I’m not asking the child for money. I’m asking you.” I reached under the coffee table, pulled out a notepad and pen, and began to calmly lay out the facts. “Chloe came to live with me when she was ten. It’s been eight years. Clothes, food, school fees, private tutors, summer camps… I never let her go without, did I?” Mark and Brenda’s faces soured. “What’s your point?” Mark snapped, spitting his sunflower seed shell onto my clean floor. “We’re family. You don’t keep a running tab.” “Oh, but you have to,” I said, meeting his gaze directly. “Because I can’t afford it anymore. As you know, my little design studio isn’t doing so well this year. I’m facing bankruptcy. So going forward, you’ll have to take care of Chloe’s expenses yourselves.” “Bankruptcy?!” Brenda’s voice shot up an octave, sharp enough to shatter glass. “Don’t you dare pull that crap, Eleanor! I saw you with a new designer bag just last week! You’re broke? My ass!” I smiled and turned to my own daughter. “Annie, sweetie, would you unlock your phone for mom?” Annie obediently handed the phone over. I opened the Amazon app and showed Brenda my order history. “You’ve always had a sharp eye for these things, Brenda. Take a look. It’s a knockoff. Fifteen dollars, free shipping. When business is bad, you have to tighten your belt.” Brenda squinted at the screen, her face a comical mask of disbelief and disgust, as if she’d just swallowed a fly. Chloe looked up, her eyes wide with genuine shock this time. The brand-new phone box in her lap suddenly seemed to burn her hands. I ignored them and pressed on. “I did a rough calculation, Mark. Over the past eight years, I’ve spent well over fifty thousand dollars on Chloe. I’m not asking for all of it. Just pay me back for the tuition and food costs—let’s call it an even thirty thousand. The rest… you can consider it my graduation gift to my niece.” “Thirty thousand dollars?!” Mark shot up from the couch. “Ellie, have you lost your mind? Where are we supposed to get that kind of money?” I stared at his face, twisted with rage, and felt nothing but a cold, dead calm. “No money?” I asked with a soft, dangerous laugh. “Between you and Brenda, you bring in over six grand a month, don’t you? The problem isn’t that you don’t have it. It’s that you’d rather spend it on yourselves—eating out, playing poker—than on raising your own daughter.” “You—!” He was speechless, his face turning a blotchy purple. He’d been hit where it hurt. I turned my attention back to Chloe, my voice once again gentle. “Chloe, I know you’re a smart girl. Your parents work hard, so you need to be more understanding. If you like the phone, have them pay for it.” I smiled brightly. “If not, I can just return it tomorrow. It’ll save me a thousand bucks!” With that, I took Annie’s hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go to your room. Mommy will cut up an apple for you.” My words, a perfect blend of sweet reason and cold steel, left my brother with nowhere to go. He couldn’t argue, couldn’t fight back. Consumed by impotent rage, he snatched the phone box from Chloe’s lap and slammed it onto the floor. “Fine, Eleanor! You win! Who needs your goddamn charity phone anyway!” He pointed a trembling finger at me. “But you won’t see a dime from us! Not one cent! Let’s see what you can do about it!” He grabbed a stunned Brenda and a shell-shocked Chloe by the arms and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the pictures on my wall rattled. 2 The heavy security door shuddered in its frame. Annie flinched, gripping my arm. “Mommy,” she whispered, “are you really going to make Uncle Mark pay? Are they going to hate us even more now?” I straightened a crooked painting on the wall, then smoothed her hair. A sharp pain lanced through me. My sweet, naive daughter. In my last life, her kindness was the reason that family of vultures was able to pick her bones clean. “Annie, listen to me. It’s not about us making them hate us. They’ve been taking advantage of us for years and acting like they were entitled to it.” I looked into her wide, worried eyes. “What Mommy is doing now is taking back what belongs to us. I’m protecting us.” She nodded, not quite understanding, but trusting me. I knew this was just the beginning. Sure enough, not ten minutes later, my phone rang. It was my mother, on her usual crusade. “Eleanor! Have you lost your mind? How could you demand money from your own brother? Have you no shame? Chloe is your flesh and blood!” The familiar tirade began before I could even say hello. It was the same speech she’d given to anyone who would listen after Mark killed me. In my last life, after Mark’s “accident” with me, it was my mother who wailed and insisted it was a family dispute, that I had simply fallen. She eagerly signed a formal letter of forgiveness so he wouldn’t have to see the inside of a jail cell. Her reasoning, whispered to a relative, was: “Mark is all I have left. What would happen to me if he went to prison? Eleanor is already gone. It’s the last thing she can do for her family.” For her. The irony was acid in my throat. I gripped the phone, my knuckles turning white. “Mom, Chloe is my niece, yes. But isn’t Annie your granddaughter? I’ve been raising Annie on my own while also supporting Chloe. When have you ever worried about me?” I shot back, my voice low and steady. “You conveniently forget that I paid my own way through college by waiting tables, don’t you?” There was a brief, sputtering silence on the other end, followed by an even more furious outburst. “Your brother is struggling! It’s your duty to help him! Do you enjoy tearing this family apart? I’m telling you, Eleanor, if you dare take that money, I… I won’t have you as a daughter anymore!” “Fine,” I said. “What?” She sounded genuinely shocked. “I said, fine,” I repeated, the word tasting like freedom. “If you think your son is more important than your daughter, then from this day on, you can consider me dead. And when you get old, don’t come looking for me. Your precious son can take care of you all by himself.” I hung up, blocked her number, and tossed the phone onto the couch. The world, finally, was quiet. I dragged a dusty old box out from under my bed. Inside was a meticulously organized collection of receipts and bank transfer records for every major expense I had ever paid for Chloe over the past eight years. I’d kept them initially as a sentimental record, something to show Chloe when she was older so she would know how much her aunt loved her. Now, they were my ammunition. I laid everything out, took clear photos with my phone, and opened a spreadsheet. Room and board, estimated conservatively at $250 a month, came to $24,000 over eight years. Tuition and tutors added another $12,000. Those two categories alone were nearly forty grand. Add in clothes, electronics, vacations, and summer camps… it all added up to well over fifty thousand dollars. Asking for thirty was, frankly, a steep discount. When I finished, I compiled the spreadsheet and the photos of the receipts into a single, neat PDF. I attached it to a message and sent it to my brother. I added a single line of text beneath it: Mark, here’s the itemized bill. It’s all there. You have three days to transfer the money. After that, my next message will be from my lawyer. I could almost feel the rage radiating through the phone. A moment later, a series of angry voice messages popped up. I didn’t listen to a single one. I simply archived the chat. You can’t reason with a bully. The more you argue, the more power you give them. For a man like Mark, nothing was more terrifying than being held accountable. 3 The next two days were unnervingly quiet. Annie seemed on edge, picking at her food at dinner. I put the largest pork chop on her plate and smiled. “Eat up, sweetie. You’re too thin. From now on, every penny I earn is just for you and me.” Her face lit up. “Really, Mommy? I love you. I don’t want to share you with anyone.” My heart ached. I never realized how much my generosity towards Chloe had felt like a betrayal to my own daughter. That would never happen again. This time, I would protect my little girl at all costs. On the third day, the deadline I’d given Mark, my phone rang in the late afternoon. It was an unfamiliar number. “Is this Eleanor Gable?” “Speaking.” “Ms. Gable, this is Mr. Davison, Chloe’s guidance counselor at school.” “Mr. Davison. Is everything alright?” “Actually, no. Chloe was very distraught at school today. She was crying, saying that you don’t want her anymore, that you’re kicking her out of the house.” His tone was laced with that specific brand of professional concern that bordered on accusation. “As you know, she’s starting her senior year. Emotional distress can have a huge impact on her grades. I was hoping you could come down to the school so we could talk this through. I know I should be calling her parents, but on her enrollment forms, you’re listed as her primary guardian…” I could picture it perfectly: Chloe, spinning a tale of woe and abuse, painting me as the cruel, unhinged aunt. “Of course, Mr. Davison,” I said calmly. “I’m on my way.” I felt no panic. I simply went to my printer and made copies of every single receipt. I printed the itemized spreadsheet. And for good measure, I had an app transcribe Mark’s profanity-laced voice messages into a text document, which I also printed. If Chloe wanted to put on a show, I would be happy to provide the script. When I arrived at the school, I found Chloe in the counselor’s office, her face a mask of tragic beauty, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. Mr. Davison sat opposite her, his expression grim. “Aunt Ellie…” Chloe whispered when she saw me, as if I were a monster emerging from the shadows. A fresh wave of tears followed. Mr. Davison frowned, adjusting his glasses. “Ms. Gable, I understand that being a single parent to two teenagers is difficult. But Chloe is an excellent, mature student. You can’t take your professional frustrations out on a child.” I didn’t argue. I just looked at Chloe, my expression serene. “Chloe, why don’t you tell Mr. Davison exactly how I took my frustrations out on you?” “You… you said you were done with me,” she sobbed. “You told my parents to come get me. A-and you demanded they pay you thirty thousand dollars or you’d sue them.” She looked up, her eyes pleading. “Aunt Ellie, I know you’re stressed out. I don’t blame you. Just… just please don’t make me leave. I’ll do anything.” It was a masterful performance. Even Mr. Davison looked moved, his gaze towards me hardening with disapproval. I smiled and placed my thick folder on his desk. “Mr. Davison, before you pass judgment, perhaps you’d like to see the facts. This is a partial record of my expenses for raising Chloe over the past eight years.” I slid the papers across the desk. “Here are the tuition payments and tutoring fees. They total just over twelve thousand dollars.” “Here are her expenses for vacations, electronics, and designer clothes. I only included purchases over two hundred dollars, and that alone is over seven thousand.” I continued, page by page, laying out the undeniable truth in black and white. “And her room and board… I charged a mere two hundred and fifty dollars a month. That’s less than the cost of groceries. Over eight years, that comes to twenty-four thousand. Add it all up, Mr. Davison. What’s the total?” Next, I pushed the transcription of Mark’s voicemails in front of him. “And this is the ‘polite conversation’ I received from my brother—Chloe’s biological father—after I informed him that due to bankruptcy, I could no longer support his daughter and would need him to contribute to her care. You’re an educator; I’m sure you can appreciate the vocabulary.” Mr. Davison stared at the mountain of evidence, his jaw slack. The color drained from his face. Finally, I turned to Chloe, who had stopped crying and was now staring at me in stunned horror. “I’m not taking my anger out on you, Chloe,” I said softly. “I am stating a fact. I have raised you for eight years. I have done my duty, and then some. Now, I am broke. I can no longer afford you. It is only right and natural that you return to your own parents.” “I… I didn’t…” Chloe’s face was ashen, her lips trembling. She couldn’t form a complete sentence. The office was utterly silent. 4 Mr. Davison’s expression shifted from shock to embarrassment, and finally, to deep regret. He cleared his throat. “Ms. Gable… I apologize. I clearly did not have the full picture. This is… well…” He glanced at the stammering Chloe, leaving the sentence unfinished. The meaning was clear. “I understand, Mr. Davison. You were advocating for your student,” I said magnanimously. My goal wasn’t to pick a fight with him; it was to shatter Chloe’s fabricated reality in front of the very person whose respect she craved. “So, what happens now with Chloe?” he asked, looking at me helplessly. “It’s very simple,” I said, gathering my documents. “I’ve already informed her parents. If they don’t transfer the money and pick her up from school today, my next call will be to Child Protective Services to report them for abandonment.” Chloe looked at me as if she’d never truly seen me before. The idea that her meek, accommodating aunt could utter the words “Child Protective Services” so calmly was clearly beyond her comprehension. I gave Mr. Davison a polite nod and walked out of the office without a backward glance. I knew Mark and Brenda would be coming. I had just walked through my own front door when the banging started. It wasn’t a knock; it was a physical assault on the door. “Eleanor! You goddamn bitch! Open the door!” It was Mark, his voice a raw, primal roar. Annie scrambled behind me, terrified. I patted her back reassuringly, then walked towards the door, but didn’t open it. I spoke through the heavy wood. “Mark, that’s my private property you’re damaging. If you have something to say, say it. If you hit my door again, I’m calling the police.” “The police? I’ll kill you first, you ungrateful snake!” The cursing intensified, punctuated by Brenda’s shrill shrieks. “Just kick the damn door in! Let’s see how tough she is then!” A cold smile touched my lips. It was just like last time. Except this time, I was prepared. After Chloe had moved out, I’d had a reinforced steel doorframe installed. It would hold—for a while. I took out my phone, angled it towards the peephole, and hit record. Then, with my other phone, I called building security and reported a violent disturbance and attempted break-in at my apartment. Only then did I speak again, my voice calm and steady. “I’ll say it one more time, Mark. I am broke. I cannot afford to raise your daughter anymore. As her parents, it’s your legal responsibility. That thirty thousand dollars is non-negotiable. If it’s not in my account by the end of the day, a process server will be visiting you at work tomorrow.” “You dare!” he bellowed. His answer was a sickening thud as his steel-toed boot connected with the door, making the entire wall vibrate. Annie screamed. I pulled her into my arms, but my eyes remained fixed on the peephole, my gaze as cold as ice. Come on, Mark. Just like last time. Show the camera exactly who you are. The impacts grew more frequent, the lock beginning to buckle. I could hear Brenda’s screeching and my mother’s pathetic, whining cries of “Oh, stop it, you two, please stop…” all blending into a grotesque symphony of dysfunction. Just as the door was about to give way, I heard the thunder of footsteps in the hallway and the authoritative shouts of security guards. “Hey! What’s going on here? Stop right now!” The noise outside ceased. For a moment, I thought it was over. But I had underestimated my brother’s capacity for rage. The arrival of security seemed to push him over the edge. “Get the hell away from me!” he roared. There was a crash of shattering glass, followed by a sound I remembered from the moment before my last death: the sickening crunch of metal and wood. He’d smashed the emergency fire case in the hallway and grabbed the axe. Through the distorted view of the peephole, I saw his eyes, bloodshot and crazed with fury. They were the last thing I saw in my previous life. My heart hammered against my ribs—not with fear, but with a grim, vindicated thrill. I dialed the three numbers I had been waiting to call. When the operator answered, I pitched my voice to be calm, but with a tremor of manufactured terror. “Hello? I need the police. My brother… he has an axe. He’s breaking down my front door.”

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