He suddenly gripped the back of my neck and bent down to kiss me. My breath was stolen, my body trapped in his arms. I should have pushed him away—but I froze. He stopped, his forehead resting against mine, his voice nearly breaking. “Don’t leave me again.” In this life, I feel no fear. Given another chance, I finally understand— he would never hurt me. Because the man who kissed me is my brother. I blinked, and I was twenty-two again, standing beneath the hawthorn tree in our miserable backyard. Mark’s arms were around me, his voice a sweet poison at my ear. “Just pour it in his drink,” he murmured. “He trusts you. This’ll knock him out. Then we leave. Tonight.” His fingers pinched my wrist. I didn’t look at him. I looked through the kitchen window. Leo stood in the doorway, white T-shirt, sleeves rolled up. A knife hung loose in his hand, forgotten. His face was pale, expression blank, winter-gray eyes locked on Mark’s grip on me. Memory slammed into me—those same eyes red and ruined as I left him bleeding, his voice echoing from beneath the dirt. I shoved Mark back. “What’s wrong with my brother?” I asked flatly. “He’s dangerous,” Mark snapped. “He’s trapping you.” A slow smile cut across my face. “He just loves me too well.” I turned away from my killer and walked toward the house—toward my jailer, my savior, my sin, my only home. The moment I stepped inside, Leo grabbed my arm and dragged me into the dark living room without a word. His silence was worse than shouting. Last time, I’d fought and screamed while he tied me to this chair, watched his face shatter as I called him a monster. He’d finished silently and told me dinner was meatloaf. My favorite. This time, I stayed quiet. I watched his scarred hands bind my wrists with his belt—careful, precise. He tucked cloth beneath the knot so it wouldn’t hurt. The tenderness nearly broke me. “You don’t have to tie me up,” I said softly. He didn’t believe me. His eyes held no trust. To him, this was just a smarter lie. Words were useless. So I spoke the only language he understood. I let my shoulders slump, let my voice tremble. “Leo… it hurts.” Three seconds. Then he was on his knees, panicked, fumbling with the belt. The control vanished. His hands shook. I reached up, fingers sliding into his hair. He froze. I traced the corner of his eye and whispered, “This time… let me protect you.” I meant it. Mark and Chloe wouldn’t use his love as a weapon again. I would end it—quietly, carefully—without dragging him back into the dark for me. Not this time.

“Lily, what was that?” Mark cornered me behind the 7-Eleven the next day, irritation cracking through his polished act. “You were supposed to drug him. We had a plan.” Last time, I’d believed him. Now I saw the spoiled coward underneath. “If you don’t do it tonight,” he hissed, “don’t expect me to rescue you. Stay with your psycho brother forever.” Forever. Once a threat. Now, a dark promise. Memory flashed—me pouring powder into Leo’s milk, his trusting eyes, his body fighting the drug, the fall, the snap, his bloodied hand clawing for me. They’re bad. Trust me. I’d called it madness then. Now I knew it was truth. I focused back on Mark. “This won’t kill him, right?” Before he could answer, Chloe slid in beside me, smiling sweetly, slushie-red lips curved in mock concern. “Just enough to knock him out,” she whispered. “Your brother’s a creep anyway.” The word lit something cold and lethal in me. But I swallowed it, nodded, played afraid. Inside, I was already dismantling them. That night, Leo knew. The second I shut the door, his voice was at my neck. “You saw him again.” He was burning with fever, stubbornly upright, hurt masked as control. When he finally sagged, I guided him to the couch. For the first time, I cooked for him. Soup, simple and real. He watched every move like it might be poison, then ate anyway. I talked—about the future, about leaving, about something better. He listened, wounded disbelief in his eyes. “Prove it,” he said finally. The power cut. Darkness swallowed the room. His presence closed in—fear, need, devotion tangled tight. Not violence. A plea. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered. Last time, I ran and destroyed him. This time, standing in the dark with everything broken between us, I chose differently. I stayed.

The shaky peace we made in the dark got tested in the light. Leo’s fever broke, but a new, watchful tension took its place. He watched me all the time, his eyes like chips of ice. The memory of my kiss seemed to mess with his head as much as it claimed him. A few days later, he was feeding me dinner. Again, my hands were tied. It was our new normal—a quiet admission that trust was still broken. “Leo,” I said, drawing out his name, putting in a sweetness I used to save for Mark. The spoon stopped right at my lips. “Lily.” His voice was flat, a scientist stating a fact. “Last time you used that voice, you almost got me sent to jail.” He was talking about when I planted stolen stuff in his room and called the cops, a nasty, desperate try to be rid of him. He was just telling it like it was, but under the table, my leg brushed against his. He went still. A faint pink hit his pale cheeks, making him look weirdly young, exposed. If I hadn’t felt him lose control in the dark a few nights before, I might have bought the act. “Leo,” I tried, “you ever believe in fate?” No answer. Just those wary eyes. “I had a dream last night. About the future.” I leaned in as much as the ties let me, holding his stare, trying to beam truth into him. “In the dream, I married Mark. You broke your leg trying to stop me. Later, Mark and Chloe plotted to kill me for my money. You… you dragged that busted leg of yours all over the world. You hunted them. You got revenge for me.” My voice got thick with the memory of a death I actually lived. “So now, I really, really hate Mark.” I put every ounce of real feeling I had into it. Leo’s face didn’t change. His eyes stayed cold and blank, like a frozen pond. “Oh yeah?” he said finally, leaning in so close I felt his breath on my neck. “Funny. I had a dream too.” His whisper was a snake in the grass. “In mine, my little sister was so desperate to get away from me, she made up a beautiful, perfect lie. She tricked me into buying it, made me think I finally had her… and then she left me behind. She put me to sleep and walked right out the door.” A chill that had nothing to do with the AC slithered down my spine. For one scary second, I wondered if reality had cracked, if he remembered a past life too. Because in my last life, that was exactly what went down. The night I drugged him, I held his face, looked into his hazy eyes, and whispered, “I’ll never leave you, Leo. I promise.” Then I watched his eyes close, turned around, and walked out without looking back. If that was the dream haunting him, no wonder he wanted me tied to this chair. I let out a soft, airy laugh, a sound with no humor in it. He frowned. “What?” “Never mind, Leo.” I met his look, dropping all my guards, showing him the tired, stubborn truth underneath. “Do whatever you want to me. I’ll take it.” But going along with his crazy didn’t mean giving up my mission. Mark and Chloe were getting antsy. Their clock was ticking, and so was my chance to get proof from inside their game. To do that, I needed freedom. I needed Leo to take me somewhere he couldn’t follow, and then I needed him to leave me there. The plan was simple, brutal, and I knew it would cut him deeper than any slap. But it was the only way. I turned the shower to ice-cold and stood under the blast until my teeth chattered and my skin was covered in goosebumps. Later, with my hair still wet, I hit it with the cold setting on the hairdryer, driving the chill right into my bones. I’d always gotten sick easy; it was one of the many things Leo worried about. By that evening, the ache was in my sinuses, my throat was scratchy, and a familiar heat was brewing behind my eyes. Perfect. When I walked out of the bathroom, towel on my head, Leo was on the couch, a book open but ignored in his lap. His dark eyes tracked me like a hawk. I didn’t have to fake the stumble. The room tilted a little as a real wave of dizziness hit. I let out a soft “whoa” and fell forward, not to the floor, but right into his lap. His arms came up on instinct, catching me, holding me. For a weird second, I felt like one of those sneaky spirits from old stories, using weakness as a trap. But Leo’s look had no charm in it, just a deep, scary stillness. “You’re burning up,” he stated, his palm flat on my forehead. The worry was there, but buried under layers of doubt. “Think I got a fever,” I mumbled, letting my head drop against his shoulder, breathing in his pine-and-storm smell. He didn’t ask questions. In one smooth move, he scooped me up, grabbed his jacket, and was out the door, carrying me to the taxi stand. In the back of the cab, I leaned on him, shivering, clinging to his coat. He pressed his hand to my forehead again, and I felt the tiny shake in his fingers. He always panics because of me, I thought with a guilty twist in my gut. He’s perfect in every messed-up way, and I’m his one big flaw. At the ER, he was a storm of quiet panic. He rushed me in, his voice tight explaining to the nurse. He sat me in a hard plastic chair in the packed waiting area, his hands fussing over me, fixing my coat, tucking my hair back. “Stay here, sweetheart,” he murmured, his rough voice softer than I’d ever heard it outside. “I’ll go take care of the paperwork. I’ll be right back. Be good, okay? You’ll feel better soon.” He leaned down and pressed a quick, desperate kiss to the corner of my mouth—a mark, a promise, a plea. Then he was gone, swallowed by the bright, busy halls. I waited until he turned the corner. My heart was beating like a wild thing. With shaky hands, I slipped off his big coat, leaving it in a heap on the chair like a shed skin. I stood up, the room swaying just a little, and walked out of the hospital, into the cold, empty night. The city at night was a different animal. The spot Mark gave me was a busted-up warehouse in the industrial south side. The sky was starting to lighten to a dirty gray, but the warehouse was a pit of shadows. It felt less like a spot to run away to and more like a place you get murdered. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. As I walked, my phone buzzed nonstop in my pocket. Forty-five missed calls. All from Leo. The screen glowed in the half-dark like a guilty conscience. I silenced it, the action feeling like a punch to the gut. I got to the far end of the huge, empty space. The rising sun painted the broken windows in weak gold and pink. And there, lit up by that sad light, was the scene. Mark was tied to a metal chair, a rag stuffed in his mouth, his eyes huge with animal fear above it. He wriggled weakly against the ropes. And behind him, leaning casual against a rusty post, was Leo. My brother. His hands were in his jeans pockets. He was fiddling with something small and plastic—a phone’s SIM card. He looked totally calm, totally in charge, like an artist looking at a finished painting. Right then, all the pieces smashed together with a final, deafening click. The weird voice on the phone. The callback that was too easy. Mark hadn’t been testing me. It had been Leo all along. He’d grabbed Mark, taken his phone, and played me. And I’d walked right into it, saying the things I needed to say to convince “Mark.” “Leo? I can’t even stand to look at him.” “He’s just a dog that won’t stop following me around.” “The day he dies? I’ll throw a party.” The words echoed in my head, each one a nail in the coffin of his trust. I’d said them to save us, to buy time, to play my enemies. But he’d heard them as my real, honest truth. Oh, crap. I was so, so totally screwed.

The rising sun cut a sharp, bright line across the dusty floor, splitting the warehouse in two—light and dark. Leo and I stood on opposite sides of that line. I was frozen, my throat tight. “Leo…” His name came out a dry croak. He tilted his head a little, the move of a predator. His beautiful, empty eyes fixed on me. “You here to beg for him?” He nudged Mark’s chair with his boot. The metal legs screeched. Mark whimpered behind the gag, his eyes pleading with me. “Leo, listen… I’m not on his side,” I blurted, the words too fast. “But we can’t… we can’t just do this. We can’t break the law.” Even to me, it sounded weak, like something a bystander would say. “So,” he cut in, his voice flat, totally empty of the stormy feelings I was used to, “you are here to beg for him.” This Leo was a stranger. Cold. Detached. It was the calm before he broke himself, and it scared me more than any of his rages ever had. What could I say? That I was collecting evidence? That the drug was for testing? That every cruel word was a lie for the bigger plan? He wouldn’t buy it. Any excuse would sound like another layer of the beautiful lie from his dream. The thin string between us was stretched to snapping. I thought he’d yell. I thought he’d drag me home and tie me up again. This quiet giving up was worse. It felt like sinking in quicksand—slow, silent, and suffocating. After forever, he sighed. It was a soft, broken sound that seemed to hold all the hurt in the world. “Lily,” he said, and my name in his mouth had never sounded so final. “You know I love you, right?” He wasn’t looking at Mark anymore. He was looking only at me, and his eyes were pits of a pain so deep it had iced over. “I’m scared of a lot of things. And every single one is about you. I’m scared you’ll get hurt. I’m scared you’ll get lost. I’m scared you’ll leave me.” He took a step, not toward me, but along that line of light, like he was walking the edge of a cliff. “For days, I’ve been asking myself… how much do you hate me? Hate me enough to wreck yourself just to get away from me?” He stopped and looked at me, really looked, and what I saw in his face broke me. “Now I know.” His voice cracked, just once, but his expression stayed carved from ice. “I know that even if I hold onto you with everything I’ve got, you’ll still walk away. So, Lily, I’m done trying to stop you.” He turned and gave Mark’s chair a hard, final shove, sending it sliding into a patch of shadow. Then he walked away, his figure getting smaller, swallowed by the dark at the other end of the warehouse. “You and him,” his voice floated back, already fading. “Have a nice life. Don’t forget to go to the hospital. I won’t be taking you anymore.” And he was gone. The silence he left behind was huge. It was filled only with Mark’s frantic, muffled grunts. I stood there, the truth of his words seeping into me like poison. He’s letting me go. The one thing I’d fought for last time was now the one thing that felt like a death sentence. Leo didn’t want me anymore. He had finally, really, given up.

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I gave him a child and spent seven years in this marriage, yet even seeing my own son depended on the mood of him and his assistant. They thought I would never leave this marriage. Until the day I overturned every last bit of their so-called dignity at the family table and threw the divorce papers straight in his face. From that moment on— this marriage was officially over. On our eighth wedding anniversary, my husband sent me a massive bouquet of roses. As soon as I came out of surgery, I called him and calmly asked for a divorce. On the other end of the line, his girlfriend sobbed an apology: “Mrs. Parker, it’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry with Mr. Parker.” Liam Parker gently comforted her for a while, then coldly said to me: “As you wish.” When I saw him again, it was already half a month later. “Make me some pasta, will you?” Liam Parker returned home early in the morning, but didn’t see the usual hot meal waiting on the dining table. He frowned instinctively, giving me a couple of instructions before heading to the bathroom. When he emerged surrounded by steam, I was still absentmindedly staring at the TV. He took several designer handbags out of his suitcase: “Take a look, do you like them?” The pink bags seemed to be the styles young girls favored most. In the past, when he tried to make up with me, he would always cater to my tastes. Now, he was just trying to appease me with thoughtless gifts. I couldn’t be bothered to look, so I picked up the remote and changed the channel, asking him: “When do you have time to get divorced?” Liam Parker was very busy; even our anniversary gift was chosen by his female secretary. When it came to scheduling, I had to accommodate him. “Stop being difficult. Olivia didn’t know you hate roses. I’ll remind her next time.” The man poured himself a small glass of red wine and sat down in the armchair opposite me, with an ambiguous smile. Olivia was Liam’s childhood friend. She had liked him since they were young, so as soon as she graduated, she quickly became his personal assistant. Their relationship was so close that they even stayed in the same suite during business trips. Actually, I didn’t blame Olivia for pursuing Liam. After all, it takes two to tango. If he didn’t want it, no woman could climb into his bed. I exaggeratedly yawned, tears unconsciously welling up in my eyes. After not hearing my reply for a long time, Liam Parker thought the matter was over. He asked about our seven-year-old son’s recent test rankings. I shook my head: “I don’t know.” I wasn’t refusing to tell him because I was angry. I really didn’t know. The Parker family pursued elite education, so our son had been attending boarding school since he was young, with a packed schedule of various courses every day. Laughably, even though I gave birth to this child, I rarely got to see him. I cried and made a fuss about it, but the Parker family remained unmoved. In their view, my marrying into the Parker family was already my greatest honor. As for anything else, I couldn’t even dream of it. Liam Parker pinched the bridge of his nose, telling me to focus more on our child: “If this continues, Olivia will become more like his mother than you.” I understood. Yesterday was Friday, the only day I was allowed to pick up our son from school. I arrived an hour early and waited until the sky darkened and the school gates closed. Then Olivia called to tell me that Mrs. Parker had asked her to pick up the child and take him home for dinner. On the other end of the line, I heard Liam’s voice. He was laughing and asking Olivia if she wanted some soup.

I snapped back to reality and said to Liam with a mirthless smile: “Isn’t this what you wanted? I’ll leave right away and make room for her.” I don’t know which word struck a nerve with Liam, but he fell silent for a few seconds before exploding in anger: “My patience has limits. Chloe Bennett, stop being so difficult.” The man stood up and took a couple of steps before I calmly said: “I forgot to tell you, I had a miscarriage.” One month ago. That night, he received a call from Olivia and rushed out just to help her avoid drinking, while I was in so much pain I nearly fainted. I drove myself to the ER. The doctor told me I had been pregnant for over two months, but the baby had no heartbeat and had already miscarried. When I learned the child was gone, I actually felt relieved. Lying alone in the hospital room, I thought it was time to end this marriage. In the living room, Liam Parker stood with his back to me, gripping his wine glass tightly, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t ask why I hadn’t called him. He knew very well how many times I had called him that night. Unfortunately, no one answered. “It doesn’t matter if you lost it. The fact is, you’re not capable of being a mother.” Liam Parker walked to his study and skillfully closed the door. In seven years of marriage, there had been countless arguments. I was always the first to back down. However, this time, Liam Parker never heard the sound of a pleading knock on his door. Half an hour later, he opened the door and searched the entire house, but couldn’t find me anywhere…

I was Liam Parker’s first love. No one would have imagined that a well-mannered, handsome rich boy would fall in love with a rebellious, party-loving girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Our first meeting wasn’t pleasant. In a stinking alley, the honor student was being threatened by some thugs. I happened to be passing by when someone whistled at me. So I rode my bike into the crowd, inadvertently solving a life crisis for the introverted rich kid while teaching the thugs a lesson. From then on, Liam Parker kept following me around. He would follow me after school, and I couldn’t get rid of him no matter what. He sent me roses, and I coldly threw them into the toilet to soak, then tossed them back onto his desk. He personally made me an extremely expensive lunch, and I gave it to a beggar on the street. My girlfriends teased me about having a rich and enthusiastic puppy following me around. Everyone could see that he and I were from different worlds. But it was this person who, when I couldn’t go to school because my alcoholic father had beaten me, forcibly barged in and carried me to the hospital. While the doctor was stitching me up, he stood with his back to me, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably as he kept wiping his face. The doctor asked him, bemused, why he was crying when he wasn’t the injured one. He said he didn’t know why, but his chest hurt terribly. He even asked the doctor, foolishly, if he needed an ECG. In the hospital room, Liam Parker clumsily peeled some fruit. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore, Chloe. Please don’t get hurt again.” I ate the ice cream he bought and mumbled okay, then glared at him: “So will you be my boyfriend?” For the whole day, we both blushed and couldn’t speak. I told Liam Parker a secret. Every time my dad got drunk and beat my mom half to death, a wilted rose would appear in our house the next day as an apology. So if one day he wanted to break up with me, there was no need to say it out loud. Just give me a rose. “Silly girl, we’ll be together forever.” The 18-year-old boy hugged me tightly, not allowing me to say any more foolish things. To escape my father’s unreasonable behavior, Liam Parker took me abroad to study. To force us to break up, his father cut off all his financial support. At that time, besides going to school, we had to work two part-time jobs each day. Those days were so difficult and busy, but Liam and I couldn’t help teasing each other even while brushing our teeth. In our tiny apartment, we laughed and bickered, our eyes full of nothing but each other. If only we could have spent the rest of our lives like that…

“Miss Bennett? Are you alright?” The doctor’s words pulled me back to reality. Today was the third day since I had moved out of the mansion, and my old insomnia problem had worsened again. I took the prescription the doctor wrote and ran into Olivia while picking up my medication. “Mrs. Parker, why did you come to the hospital alone?” Olivia blinked innocently, and seeing that I didn’t respond, she looked at me with sympathetic eyes: “I heard from Liam that you lost the baby… Don’t be sad, you’re still so young, you’ll definitely have another chance.” “Don’t worry, there won’t be another chance.” As soon as I finished speaking, I saw Liam walking over with a dark expression. I noticed he was tightly gripping an inhaler, though I didn’t know why he was angry. Olivia coyly told me that she had slightly sprained her ankle when going downstairs because she wasn’t paying attention. It was such a minor injury that she didn’t need to see a doctor, but Liam had insisted on bringing her, causing her to miss work. Seeing the medication bag in my hand, Liam couldn’t help but ask: “Are you feeling unwell?” Seeing that I was ignoring him and about to leave, he actually snatched my medication away. “When did the insomnia start?” “Chloe Bennett, I’m talking to you. How long are you going to keep this up?” Liam Parker thought I had left home out of anger, as a ploy to get his attention. So until now, he had never tried to find out where I was living or what I had been doing these past few days. He unconsciously raised his voice, causing people around to stop and stare at him. A flash of weariness crossed my eyes as I snatched back the medication from his hand and said softly: “I’m not acting up.” Perhaps my tone was too gentle and calm, because Liam Parker thought I was backing down. He suggested taking me home first, then driving Olivia back to the office. But I shook my head. “Work is more important. I can go by myself.” By “go back,” I meant back to my own home. My alcoholic father died in a car accident, leaving me a huge settlement. And the house I once desperately wanted to escape had now become my only refuge. Watching my desolate figure walk away, Liam Parker pursed his lips, about to take a step forward when Olivia grabbed his arm. The woman told him, her face pale, that she suddenly felt very unwell. It was probably a hypoglycemic episode. Liam Parker hesitated for a moment, but didn’t follow me. He turned and walked towards a nearby vending machine.

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That evening, I got home and pulled open the bathroom door, only to find my mom’s new, younger boyfriend stepping out of the shower. He was stark naked, a condom dangling from his mouth. He looked at me and chuckled. “Like what you see?” Turns out, he was even a student at my university. **1** My dad passed away early, and my mom became a super-rich woman. I’m pretty open-minded, so I never cared about her having fun with other men. She had a revolving door of boyfriends, each one younger and hotter than the last. That’s why, even though my college was close to home, I rarely went back. But this time, it was changing seasons, and most of my summer clothes were still at home. I’d unlocked the door earlier and hadn’t heard a sound, assuming no one was home. I was desperate to pee, so I burst in, only to discover a man roughly my age, completely nude, water still clinging to his skin. Taut, sculpted muscles, a perfect V-taper, and then… what was between his legs. I froze on the spot. Oh my God! He still had that condom in his mouth! He arched an eyebrow at me and smirked. “Enjoying the view, cutie?” He was incredibly handsome, with an irresistible youthful charm. His words made my cheeks burn and my heart race. I quickly spun around and practically fled, suddenly not needing to use the bathroom anymore. Just then, my mom came out of her bedroom. “What’s wrong with you? Your face is so red.” I forced a laugh. “Just the changing seasons, Mom. It’s a bit hot.” At that moment, the handsome guy emerged, wearing a loose T-shirt. “Brenda, what are you doing out here? You were too quick.” My mom’s eyes crinkled with laughter immediately. They say women in their prime have the strongest desires. Was my mom *that* desperate? This guy even called her Brenda, he really knew how to charm her. I rushed to my room to pack my clothes, and before I left, I warned her. “Mom, I don’t mind you changing boyfriends, but please don’t tell me he’s underage!” **2** During the time I was away from home, that handsome face and intoxicating body kept invading my dreams. I’d been single for twenty years and always thought I had no desires. But ever since that first glimpse, I found myself frequently watching *certain films*. Just thinking about him made my knees go weak. I’d had a falling out with my roommates and couldn’t stand being around them. So, I grabbed my suitcase and headed home. I’d just booked an Uber and was waiting by the campus gate when someone called out to me. “Daisy? Heading home?” It was my mom’s toy boy! He stood with his hands on his hips, a smirk playing on his lips. My mom must have told him my name. When I didn’t deny it, he lifted me by the waist and swung me onto his motorcycle in one smooth motion. “Come on, it’s on my way.” I had to cancel my Uber. He told me his name was Barry, and that he went to my school. That’s when I realized I’d heard of him. My roommates were totally obsessed with him. They said he was super arrogant, but I guess my mom had tamed him. Barry wasn’t exactly behaving himself. All along the way, he kept suddenly hitting the brakes. It made me slam hard against his back, and my chest stung. I wasn’t wearing a bra! “Hold on tight, I don’t want you to fall off.” “You’re really soft back there.” My face flushed and my heart pounded, but inside, I was a total mess. This was my mom’s boyfriend. How could I even think like this? But I liked him so much. I wanted to try adult stuff with him. If he kept my mom happy, he must be good in bed, right? My mom had a rotating roster of guys; she probably wouldn’t mind if I ‘borrowed’ him for a bit. Immediately, I wrapped my arms tightly around his lean waist. His defined muscles were undeniable, and touching them sent a shiver through me. Through the soft fabric, I could feel the warmth of his body, and I couldn’t help but shift, pressing myself against his back. His body stiffened, and a low groan escaped his lips. That startled me, and I instantly pulled my hands away. **3** When we got home, we both immediately pretended nothing had happened. But after waiting for quite a while, my mom still hadn’t returned. Barry told me my mom was away on a business trip for a month and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. A daring idea suddenly popped into my head, but I quickly pushed it down. Later, while I was showering, the power suddenly went out. I slipped and fell, hitting the floor so hard I couldn’t get up. My mind was a blur, and I was trembling uncontrollably in the dark. I’d been afraid of the dark since I was a child and had even been diagnosed with claustrophobia. Just then, Barry crashed through the door. He had a flashlight. Without a word, he scooped me up and gently, patiently, wiped my body dry with a towel. All my clean clothes were soaked, and the rest were in my suitcase, which I couldn’t find in the darkness. My foot and butt hurt like hell from the fall, so he carried my naked body to the bedroom to rest. He explained that a massive thunderstorm had caused a power outage, and the electricity wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. “I didn’t mean to see you like that. But you saw me last time, so I guess we’re even.” He made to leave, but I summoned my courage and hugged him from behind, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m scared of thunder. Can you stay with me?” Something hard pressed against my hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze. Barry practically jumped away. “Don’t tempt me. I’ll stay with you.” He sat motionless on the edge of my bed. My foot was really swollen, so I lifted my leg and rested it on his thigh. “It hurts so much. Can you massage it for me?” He was incredibly obedient, gently rubbing my foot, and soon the swelling went down. I noticed his eyes kept drifting up my legs. “Do you hurt anywhere else? I can help with that too.” “My butt got bruised in the fall too.” I flashed a seductive smile and lay flat on the bed. His warm hand enveloped me, and soon, the sheets beneath me were damp. He started teasing me then, his fingers tracing a path, inch by agonizing inch, downwards. “Looks like it’s wet down there. Did you hurt yourself, too? Want me to help you out?” That night, we stopped just short of crossing the line.

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The city shimmered with a private fireworks display on the night Channing Sterling announced his engagement. I was on my knees, scrubbing floors in a high-end club, clutching the diagnosis in my hand: terminal stomach cancer. He was there, holding that woman with the innocent eyes, his foot casually pressing down on my hand, crushing my finger bones. “Scarlett, look closely. *This* is the woman Channing Sterling is going to marry.” “As for you, you only deserve to crawl in the gutter and atone for your sins.” I bit my lip, swallowing the metallic tang that surged in my throat, not uttering a sound. He didn’t know these hands had once dug for him for three days and three nights in the ruins, already ruined beyond repair. He knew even less that the “murderer” he hated so much had only three months left to live. If you want me to atone, then I’ll give you my life. How about that? Channing had booked out the entire top-floor VIP lounge to celebrate Serena’s return to the country. The manager found me then. I was hiding in the changing room, gulping down painkillers. My stomach was on fire, searing pain making me break out in a cold sweat. “Scarlett, hurry up! Mr. Sterling specifically asked for you to serve drinks. Don’t you dare mess this up for me!” The manager rushed me, snatching the cleaner’s uniform I’d just put on. He tossed me an incredibly revealing bunny girl outfit. “Put this on. If Mr. Sterling isn’t happy tonight, your brother, clinging to life in the hospital, will be thrown out of his room tomorrow!” At the mention of Leo, the refusal I’d been about to voice died in my throat. I looked at my pale, skeletal reflection in the mirror. I forced a smile, uglier than a cry. Scarlett, what are you still being dramatic about? Your dignity was torn to shreds by Channing himself three years ago, on that rainy night. The moment I pushed open the lounge door, a tidal wave of noise crashed over me. But my eyes instantly found Channing, seated at the head of the main table. He wore a black shirt, collar slightly unbuttoned. He swirled a half-glass of red wine, his gaze cold and lazy. And nestled in his arms was Serena, in a white dress. The air in the lounge froze for a moment when I walked in. Then came the unrestrained jeers of the rich brats. “Well, well, isn’t that New York’s former It-girl? How did she fall so far?” “This is karma! Back then, she almost killed Serena just to climb the ladder. A vicious woman like that deserves it!” Channing heard them and lazily lifted his eyelids. His gaze landed on me, devoid of any warmth. “What are you standing there for? Come over and pour Serena some wine.” I moved stiffly. Walking to the coffee table, I knelt, picking up the decanter with trembling hands. A violent spasm gripped my stomach. My hand shook, and a few drops of red wine splashed onto Serena’s pristine white skirt. “Ah!” Serena shrieked, shrinking further into Channing’s arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” I frantically tried to wipe it, but Channing’s foot slammed into my chest. “Get out! Don’t touch her with your filthy hands!” The kick was merciless, holding nothing back. I flew backward, my spine hitting the hard edge of the table, the pain making my vision black out. A metallic taste rose in my throat. I bit my lip hard, terrified that the blood would spill out and stain his sight. Channing looked down at me, his eyes full of disgust: “Scarlett, you’re truly sickening. You can’t even do this little thing right. Were you trying to be deliberate?” “Trying to get my attention with these cheap tricks? You’re not worthy.” I lay on the floor, taking a long time to manage to prop myself up. Get his attention? Right, in his mind. Scarlett was just a conniving bitch who would do anything for money. Even now, when I was dying. He would only think I was faking it, putting on a show. Serena’s eyes were red-rimmed, and she tugged at Channing’s sleeve, her voice soft and sweet: “Channing, don’t blame Scarlett. She surely didn’t do it on purpose… It’s just a shame about this dress; it was a special birthday gift from you.” Channing tenderly patted her hand. When he turned to look at me, his eyes instantly turned sinister. “Since you’ve ruined Serena’s dress, you’ll pay for it yourself.” “Drink these ten bottles of Louis XIII on the table. Finish them, and I’ll pretend nothing happened tonight.” “Otherwise, you can crawl out of here.”

Ten bottles of Louis XIII. For a healthy person, that would be a deadly amount. Even more so for me, a terminal stomach cancer patient. The doctor had warned me. My stomach couldn’t even handle a single drop of anything spicy now. Drinking alcohol was suicide. I looked up, peering through my messy hair at Channing. His expression was cold and resolute, with no hint of joking. “Mr. Sterling, I… I can’t drink.” I pleaded humbly. “I’m not feeling well. Could you… perhaps give me a different punishment?” “Not feeling well?” Channing sneered. “Scarlett, stop with your hypocritical games. When you pushed Serena down the stairs, did you ever think about how *she* felt?” “When you took five million dollars to dump me, did you ever think about how *I* felt?” Raking up old wounds, every word stung my heart. I opened my mouth, wanting to explain. I wanted to say that it wasn’t me who pushed Serena; she rolled down herself to frame me. I wanted to say that the five million was to save *his* life when he was in the ICU. I gave all the money to the doctors. I had to sell my blood to cover the subsequent expenses. But what good would explanations do? In these three years, I had explained countless times. But all I got in return was his deeper disgust and more brutal beatings. “Not going to drink, huh?” Channing lost patience, signaling to the bodyguards nearby. “Force it down her!” Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, grabbing my shoulders. The icy liquor was forcibly poured down my throat, making tears stream down my face as I choked. The burning liquid flowed down my esophagus into my stomach, instantly causing violent cramps. Agonizing, heart-wrenching pain. I struggled desperately, but I was no match for their strength. One bottle, two bottles… Until the fifth bottle was forced down. I finally couldn’t hold it in and threw up. The vomit was mixed with startling bright red. Inside the lounge. Some guests looked at the blood on the floor with uncertainty. “Oh my god, she’s spitting blood…” “Is it real? Or is she faking it?” Channing looked at the pool of blood, his brows furrowing slightly. An almost imperceptible flicker crossed his eyes. But the next second, Serena’s horrified voice rang out: “Oh! What’s going on? Scarlett, did you prepare a blood bag beforehand to scare Channing?” “I saw you use that trick before, when we were on set…” One sentence instantly dispelled all of Channing’s doubts. The flicker in his eyes vanished, replaced by an even more intense mockery. “Scarlett, you’ve really grown some nerve. To avoid punishment, you’d stoop to such disgusting tactics.” “It seems these years in jail, you learned nothing else, but your acting skills have certainly improved.” He stood up and walked step by step towards me. He crouched down, savagely pinching my chin. “Since you love acting so much, I’ll give you a chance to put on a show.” “Lick up what’s on the floor.” I stared, wide-eyed, disbelievingly at him. The twisting pain in my stomach made my whole body tremble, cold sweat had already soaked through my clothes. But the pain in my heart was a hundred times worse than my body’s. This was the man I had loved for ten years. This was the man I had saved. Willing to ruin my hands, willing to bear scorn, willing to sacrifice my health. “Channing… just kill me.” I closed my eyes in despair, tears tracing paths down my temples. “Kill you? That would be too easy for you.” Channing gave a cold laugh, throwing my face away. He pulled out a wet wipe and fastidiously cleaned his hands. “Serena is someone *you* can bully? You’ll kneel here tonight until morning.” “If you’re even a minute short, I’ll have your brother’s ventilator turned off.” With that, he scooped up Serena and walked out of the lounge without a backward glance. His group of awful friends also followed suit. Before leaving, they didn’t forget to spit on me and kick me a few times. The lounge finally fell silent. I curled up on the cold floor. Unable to help myself, I vomited large mouthfuls of blood. The bright red blood stained the white fur of the bunny girl outfit. I shakily pulled out the crumpled lab report from my pocket. Looking at the word “terminal” on it, I let out a bitter laugh. Channing, you win. This life, I probably can’t ever repay the debt I owe you. But it was clearly… *you* who owed me a life.

That night, I truly knelt in the lounge all night. I passed out several times, only to be jolted awake by excruciating pain. The next morning, the cleaning lady came in to tidy up. When she saw me, covered in blood, she screamed. I clung to my last breath, crawling back to the dark, damp rental apartment. There, I had my only spiritual solace. It was the last sketchbook my mother had left me. I was an oil painting student, once hailed as a child prodigy. My hands, once praised by my tutor as “hands kissed by God.” But during that earthquake rescue. To dig out Channing, who was buried under the rubble. My ten fingers suffered severe fractures, my nerves were damaged, and I could never hold a paintbrush again. And Serena. She became his savior simply by handing him a bottle of water when he woke up. I fumbled to open the locked tin box. Empty. My heart sank instantly, an ominous premonition engulfing me. That was my everything! I frantically searched the entire apartment, but it was nowhere, absolutely nowhere! Just then, my phone rang. It was an MMS from Serena. The photo showed a burning brazier. Inside the brazier, that familiar sketchbook was being consumed by flames, only half of its damaged cover remaining. Immediately after, a voice note came through SnapChat. Serena’s sweet voice, barely concealing her malice, said: “Scarlett, I heard this was your mother’s last memento? I thought it was too old and smelled musty, so I helped you get rid of it.” “Don’t blame me, though. Channing said that looking at your things annoyed him, so I could do whatever I wanted with them.” “Oh, and by the way, Channing also said that a cripple like you keeping a sketchbook is an insult to art.” That was the only keepsake my mother left me, my motivation to live in despair. Now, it had been burned to ashes by them. My hand holding the phone trembled violently. “Serena! I’ll kill you!” I stumbled out of the house, running towards Sterling Manor. In that moment, I forgot the pain in my body, I forgot the cancer in my stomach. Only one thought consumed my mind— I was going to drag them down with me! When I burst into Sterling Manor’s garden. Channing was with Serena, pruning flowers. In the sunlight, they looked perfect together. I lunged forward, pushing Serena aside, and fiercely clamped my hands around her neck. “Why did you burn my sketchbook! Why! Give me back my mother!” Serena screamed, struggling desperately. “You lunatic! Help! Channing, help me!” Before I could apply more force, a huge power suddenly struck me from behind. Channing delivered a savage kick to my waist. I flew through the air, crashing heavily against the stone wall of the fountain. My waist felt like it had broken, the pain excruciating. I lay on the ground, unable to get up for a long time. Channing rushed forward, immediately pulling a startled Serena into his embrace. Then he turned, glaring at me venomously. “Scarlett, you’re looking for death!” “It’s just some worthless sketchbook! So what if it’s burned? Why are you throwing a fit? How dare you come here and try to attack her!” Worthless sketchbook? I looked up, tears streaming down my face, my heart dead. “That was… my mom’s last memento… it was the only thing… I had left in this life…” Channing looked down at me: “Someone like you, you actually talk about feelings?” “If your mom knew you sold your body for money, and murdered for power,” “She’d probably be so angry she’d crawl out of her coffin and die again!” “Scarlett, I’m warning you, this is the last time. If you dare to lay another finger on Serena, I’ll end your life!” I lay on the ground, looking at this man I had loved for ten years. Every word he spoke. Was like a blunt knife, carving into my flesh, slice by slice. I didn’t understand why fate was so cruel to me. I saved him, I loved him, I gave him everything. Only to be met with this outcome. “Channing…” I weakly called his name. “If one day… you knew the truth… would you regret it?” Channing paused, then laughed as if he’d heard the funniest joke. “Regret? The biggest regret of my life, Scarlett, is ever knowing a woman as utterly deceitful as you!” “Someone, get her out of here! Don’t let her dirty Serena’s sight!” Several bodyguards came over, dragging me like a dead dog. I didn’t struggle, letting my body be scraped against the rough ground. My gaze, however, remained fixed on Serena not far away. She was hiding in Channing’s arms, giving me a victorious smile. Just as I was being dragged out the main gate. I vomited another large mouthful of blood. This time, the blood stained the expensive Persian rug in Sterling Manor. Channing looked at the puddle of blood, his brows tightly knit, a flicker of inexplicable panic in his eyes. But he quickly turned away, no longer looking at me. I was dumped on the roadside outside the mansion. A heavy rain began to fall, the icy water hitting my body, chilling me to the bone. Lying in the mud, I looked up at the gray sky and suddenly smiled. My tears and the rain mingled. Channing, I owe you nothing now. In this life, I owe you nothing more.

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To test my husband’s management skills, Dad sent me to do a surprise inspection of the company he was running. As soon as I walked in, I noticed a new, peculiar room in the office. Inside, there was a large pink bed and a vanity table. Moments later, a woman, dressed provocatively, emerged from the room, carrying a glass of water. I was about to step forward and confront her when her hand trembled, spilling the water onto a power switch. The entire company went dark. Annoyed, I asked an intern standing nearby, “Who hired that idiot woman?” The intern immediately shushed me. “Lower your voice! That’s our CEO’s wife. I heard this whole company belongs to her.” I froze. She’s the CEO’s wife? Then what am *I*? I pulled out my phone and called Dad. “Dad, forget the evaluation. Tell David to come to the office, and bring the divorce papers!” On my first day secretly inspecting my husband’s company, I immediately noticed it felt different. The old nursery had been turned into a pink princess room. Curious, I watched a young, provocatively dressed woman walk out of it. I asked an intern standing near me, “Who is that woman?” The intern seemed scared of her. He leaned in, whispering, “Quiet! That’s Tiffany Reed, our CEO’s wife. You must be new here, right? You’ll get used to it.” She’s Mrs. Hayes? So what does that make *me*? I couldn’t believe David would cheat so brazenly! He even moved his mistress’s *bed* into the company building! The intern sighed and continued, “She usually just stays in the private room Mr. Hayes gave her, playing games or watching TV. She doesn’t really interact with us. Mr. Hayes must be out for a meeting today, and no one’s around to entertain her, so she came out to play.” His words made my head buzz. “Her private room? The one with the huge pink bed? This is a company, not a resort!” I tried my best to control my anger. The intern shook his head and said, “What can we do? Our CEO just dotes on his wife.” He saw the look on my face and asked with concern, “Are you okay? You look terrible.” I forced a smile. “I’m fine, just a little surprised. It’s certainly… an eye-opener to see someone like that in a company.” The intern gave a wry smile and shrugged. “You’ll get used to it. She doesn’t really do anything harmful. We just have to tolerate it, and pray she gets bored and goes back to her room.” I didn’t say anything more. I watched Tiffany skip away from the lounge area, humming a tune. I pulled out my phone, ready to call Dad directly. But after a moment’s thought, I put it back. Leaving now would be letting David off too easy. Dad had sent me to evaluate his capabilities. Now, it seemed, his competence, and his character, were both seriously flawed. I wanted to see just how ridiculous this company had become under his management. I straightened my clothes and walked to the reception desk. “Hi, I’m Ashley Miller, from corporate, here for a project review.” “Could you please arrange a temporary workstation for me? Somewhere quiet, if possible.” “Also, this inspection is internal, so I’d prefer Mr. Hayes doesn’t know I’m here.” The receptionist nodded respectfully. I walked into the office area, found a corner desk, and settled in, my gaze fixed on Tiffany, who was not far away. She was holding a glass of water, curiously studying a fire alarm button on the wall, seemingly debating whether to press it.

David wasn’t in that morning. Tiffany must have gotten bored playing games in his office. She strolled out of the General Manager’s office again. She wandered around the office floor. One moment, she was poking at a colleague’s newly drawn design sketch. The next, she was messing with another colleague’s keyboard, typing out gibberish. Everyone was furious but dared not speak up. They just held their breath when she approached, and frantically checked their work after she left, hoping it hadn’t been ruined. She drifted over to the water cooler. She was probably thirsty again, so she picked up a disposable cup to get some water. Either she didn’t hold it steady, or it was on purpose. Her hand trembled. A full cup of water, precisely, accurately, splashed directly onto the wall next to the water cooler. Right where the main power switch for the entire office floor was located. There was a loud *CRACK*, followed by a shower of blinding sparks. The lights across the entire office instantly went out. Every computer screen, without exception, turned black. A few seconds later, the office erupted in a chorus of groans and frustrated shouts. “My code! I spent all morning on it! It’s not saved!” “My design draft! The client has been hounding me, it was just one step away!” “My report! It’s due at 2 PM! It’s over, everything’s ruined!” Mark Johnson, the Head of the Tech Department, rushed out of his office first, drawn by the commotion. He saw Tiffany standing there, looking utterly innocent despite the mess she’d caused, and his face instantly turned ashen. His lips moved, his fists clenched and then relaxed, but he ultimately swallowed his words. Tiffany, however, spoke first, her voice dripping with indignation. “What happened?” “This switch is so cheap! It broke just from a little water. Why is everything in this company such low quality?” Her ability to lie so brazenly was truly astonishing. Sarah WilDavids, the Head of Administration, also hurried over. She first looked at the chaotic, smoking power switch, then at Tiffany. She immediately plastered on a forced, subservient smile. “Tiffany, are you hurt? Did it scare you?” “It’s not your fault at all. It must be old wiring. We’ll fix it right away. I’ll get someone to replace it with a new, waterproof one immediately!” “Why don’t you go back to the office and rest? We’ll handle things here.” Tiffany pouted, seemingly not entirely satisfied with this outcome, but said nothing more and turned back into David’s office. Only then did the Head of Administration wipe the cold sweat from her brow and start directing the tech team to fix the problem. As she passed my desk, I called out to her. “Ms. WilDavids, does this happen often?” She glanced at me, recognized me as being from corporate, and a bitter expression crossed her face. She pulled me into the stairwell of the fire escape, lowering her voice. “You’re an auditor, right? There are some things I shouldn’t say, but today’s incident…” She sighed and continued. “Honestly, she’s Mr. Hayes’s wife. We can’t do anything.” “Mr. Hayes is away for a meeting today, so no one can control her.” “Normally, when Mr. Hayes is here, he can at least keep her locked in his office…” Her face was filled with helplessness and despair. “Last time, she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a cup of coffee.” “That coffee spilled right onto our main server.” “All our company data was corrupted. The tech department pulled all-nighters for a week to restore it. We all lost an entire week’s worth of work!” “And what happened then?” I asked. “Mr. Hayes said our tech department was negligent in supervision, that the server’s location posed a safety hazard, and he docked our entire department’s quarterly bonuses.” “He said it was a ‘lesson’ for us.” My heart sank, heavy and cold. This was David’s management style. He was letting an idiot run wild, then making all his hard-working employees pay for her stupidity. David, you’re truly something. Just then, the door to the General Manager’s office opened again. Tiffany poked her head out and yelled, “I’m so bored! Why isn’t the power back on? My phone’s almost dead! Are there any snacks in the breakroom?” No one answered her. The entire office floor was filled with an oppressive, absolute silence.

Just as the engineering team finished restoring power, Dad called. He asked me to retrieve some core data from the Marketing Department. He said the company’s board meeting that afternoon needed the file, and that I absolutely had to handle it myself, without any mistakes. I took my USB drive, copied the data from the Marketing Director, and went to the print room. I had just finished organizing the documents and clipping them together when the print room door swung open. Tiffany strolled in, holding a bubble tea. Her eyes lit up when she spotted the stapler next to my hand. “Hey, can I borrow that? My snack bag came open.” She said, reaching out to grab it as if it were hers by right. I instinctively pulled the documents and stapler back, out of her reach. These documents were highly confidential company information. Her hand grasped at air. Her body, propelled by momentum, lurched forward, and her foot caught on a cable. The bubble tea in her hand flew out. The brown liquid arced in a perfect parabola through the air, landing squarely on the confidential documents I had just printed. The thick stack of A4 papers was instantly soaked through with bubble tea, turning into a sticky, ruined mess. I looked at the destroyed files, unable to maintain my detached composure any longer. I looked up, my gaze falling on Tiffany’s face. She showed no remorse. Instead, she seemed annoyed that I hadn’t lent her the stapler. My voice was icy. “Can you even begin to pay for the damage you’ve done to these files?” Tiffany was probably experiencing someone in the company questioning her with such a tone for the first time. She froze for a moment. Then, her face contorted with fury. “How dare you speak to me like that?!” “Do you even know who I am?” She puffed out her chest, looking indignant. “I’m Mr. Hayes’s wife!” I looked at her, my insides completely calm, almost amused. “Oh?” I calmly countered. “Mr. Hayes’s wife can just freely destroy company property? She can ignore company rules and regulations?” My retort clearly challenged her authority. She became furious, pointing a finger at my nose. “Of course I can!” “This company belongs to my husband, so it belongs to me! I can do whatever I want!” Her voice grew shrill, like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Who do you think you are? A new hire telling *me* what to do?!” Colleagues, hearing the commotion, started to gather. Seeing the scene, they were terrified, barely daring to breathe. A few female colleagues from Admin quietly tugged at my sleeve, their eyes pleading, signaling me to apologize quickly. I didn’t move. I just watched her silently. Tiffany, seeing that I was unmoved, felt she was losing face in front of everyone. She pulled out her phone, a smirk of triumph on her face. “Fine, you wanna play tough? Think you can defy me?” “I’m calling my husband right now to tell you who *I* am, and who *you* are!” She immediately FaceTimed David. The call connected quickly. She held the phone screen towards herself, ready for David to come to her rescue.

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**Avery’s POV** “Mrs. Sterling, I’ve reviewed the supplementary clauses for your divorce agreement. There are no legal loopholes.” Mr. Davies’ voice was calm and professional over the phone. “The marriage contract you signed with Mr. Sterling four years ago will officially expire on the twenty-seventh of next month. At that time, this divorce agreement will automatically take effect, and you will regain your complete freedom.” “Got it.” I hung up, my gaze fixed on the massive wedding portrait in the center of the living room wall. In the picture, I stood in a designer wedding gown before the blue-domed, white-walled beauty of Santorini. It was the only time in my life I dared to get so brazenly close to Dean Sterling. But he was so distant, devoid of any newlywed joy. Love or not, it hung there, blatant, without a single word needed. “It’s finally over.” I sighed. Four years ago, I signed that ridiculous contract. My wedding night held no tenderness, only a document handed to me by Dean, accompanied by his icy, cutting words: “Avery, remember your place. I married you because Chloe needed time to cool off. For these four years, you’ll be my wife, Mrs. Sterling, and don’t even think about anything that doesn’t belong to you.” Back then, I naively believed four years would be enough to melt a block of ice. But four years passed, and I understood: some ice would never melt for me. A soft click from the entrance hall broke my thoughts. Dean was back. His tall figure, bringing with it a chilling aura, stepped into the house. I took a deep breath and went to meet him. I took his discarded suit jacket and hung it up. I knelt halfway, opening the shoe cabinet and pulling out his soft house slippers. This action, I had rehearsed for four years. Dean seemed entirely accustomed to it. He pulled off his tie and tossed it carelessly onto the console table by the entrance. “Don’t forget to attend the group’s fiftieth-anniversary celebration next month.” My hands, changing his shoes, hitched for a fraction of a second. I gently shook my head. “I might have something that day. I won’t be able to make it.” After that day, I wouldn’t be Mrs. Sterling anymore. But those words, I couldn’t bring myself to say. Dean’s brow instantly creased at my reply. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing *now*?” His voice dripped with impatience. “Because I’ve been spending more time with Chloe lately? Avery, I warned you the first day we got married: don’t fantasize about things that don’t belong to you. And cut out that pathetic, resentful act; it frankly disgusts me.” I was just preparing to disappear from his world entirely after the contract expired, never to be an eyesore again. But he thought I was protesting his kindness to Chloe in this way. I opened my mouth, then closed it, saying nothing. Dean’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his expression instantly softened, revealing a tenderness I’d never seen him show me. Chloe’s sobs drifted from the receiver, and Dean asked, his voice laced with concern and gentleness: “Chloe? What’s wrong? Don’t cry, tell me slowly.” Chloe on the other end seemed to be saying something disjointed. Dean kept reassuring her: “Don’t be scared, I’m here. Where are you right now? Okay, I’m on my way!” He hung up, not even sparing a glance for me, still half-kneeling on the floor. He grabbed his car keys and rushed out. His movements were so hurried that his shoulder slammed heavily into my body. I was already off-balance; with that immense force, my body lurched uncontrollably backward. My forehead crashed hard against the sharp edge of the doorframe. Excruciating pain instantly exploded from my temple, and my vision swam with flashing lights. But Dean’s figure had already vanished through the door, rushing into the cold night, without even a single glance my way. The enormous house fell silent. I leaned against the wall, slowly getting to my feet, the throbbing pain in my temple making me dizzy. I walked to the full-length mirror by the entrance, staring at the pale woman reflected there. My temple was already a rapidly swelling, angry red, with faint traces of bruising beneath. I went into the living room, found an ice pack in the medicine cabinet, and pressed it to the injury. The chill of the ice pierced my skin, yet it was nothing compared to the dull ache in my chest, a persistent, gnawing pain like a blunt knife repeatedly dragging across my heart. For four years, this was how I’d lived, repeatedly comforting myself. Smoothing over those visible and invisible wounds, then continuing to play the role of the docile, attentive Mrs. Sterling. Late into the night, my phone rang. It was Dean. I swiped to answer. His voice came through the static, devoid of any emotion. “Come to the hospital.” I instinctively asked, “What happened? Are you hurt?” “Just come.” The call was ruthlessly cut off, leaving only a cold dial tone. Without another thought, I grabbed a coat and rushed out. The night wind was biting, and I drove as fast as I could. What on earth had happened? Was it Chloe? Or him? I sped to the hospital, running toward the emergency room building as soon as I parked. From a distance, in the corridor outside the operating room, I immediately spotted that familiar tall figure. Dean stood before the operating room door, its red light glowing. He was holding someone tightly in his arms. Chloe buried her face in his chest, trembling with sobs. They were embracing so tightly, the scene was so ironic, as if I, the one who had rushed over, was the outsider. 2. **Avery’s POV** The air in the corridor, permeated by the scent of disinfectant, felt particularly cold. I stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if all the blood in my veins had frozen solid in that frigid atmosphere. I watched the two figures locked in a tight embrace not far away. Dean had his head bowed, softly comforting the sobbing Chloe in his arms, the lines of his profile gentle, as if he were a completely different person. That was the tenderness I had spent four years trying to earn, to no avail. I could barely breathe. It took me a long time to make my already stiff legs move again, one slow step after another, toward them. Dean heard my approach and looked up. The moment he saw me, the fleeting tenderness in his eyes quickly vanished, replaced by that familiar, chilling indifference. “What happened?” I forced myself to speak. Dean looked at me with those terrifyingly still eyes and spoke slowly. “Chloe’s mother had an acute leukemia flare-up. Her condition is critical, and she needs an immediate bone marrow transplant.” I instinctively asked, “What?” “We’ve done an urgent city-wide search of bone marrow registries, but we haven’t found a suitable match.” Dean looked at me, as if stating an indifferent fact as mundane as the weather, completely unrelated to me. “I got tested. It was a match. Now, you’re here to sign.” “…You’re going to donate bone marrow?” My pupils tightened. I knew what a bone marrow transplant entailed. He was going to take such a risk for Chloe’s mother? “I didn’t call you here for your opinion.” Dean coldly cut me off, then gritted out the two most cruel words: “Only because you’re family.” Only a spouse had the authority to sign. So that’s it. My sole value as his wife was to provide a legally necessary signature when he decided to risk his health for another woman. How ironic. “Okay.” “I’ll sign.” I nodded. A nurse promptly offered a surgical consent form and a pen. I took them, looked down at the signature line, and quickly wrote my name. As I finished the last stroke, I felt utterly drained, as if all the strength had been sucked out of me. Dean released Chloe, helping her to a nearby chair. He murmured a few soothing words, then turned and strode toward the operating room. Just as the door was about to close, I called out to him: “Dean!” He paused, turning his head to look at me, his gaze devoid of emotion. For a moment, I wanted to ask him. In these four years, had you ever, even for a second, felt anything for me? But meeting his cold eyes, I knew the answer would only bring me more disappointment. In the end, I only managed one sentence: “Be careful.” His eyes seemed to flicker almost imperceptibly, but he said nothing. He turned and walked into the operating room without a backward glance. I finally, completely understood. His love for Chloe was soul-deep, capable of risking his own life. And my four years of devotion and waiting? Nothing more than a cruel joke. In the corridor, I sat on a cold bench. Chloe, opposite me, wiped her tears and sat down next to me, speaking in a soft, gentle tone: “Mrs. Sterling, I’m so sorry, I’ve troubled Dean again because of my affairs.” “I was so foolish back then, thinking leaving him would force him to forget me. I never imagined he’d still love me so much.” “Do you know? One year, he secretly flew to Paris, all because I casually mentioned liking a certain jewelry necklace that was about to be released.” Chloe smiled, continuing to needle me. “But I was still angry then, so I just threw the jewelry box back at him.” I remembered that necklace. Dean had returned from that business trip to Paris and casually tossed a delicate velvet box to me, his tone indifferent: “Someone gave it to me. I don’t like it. You deal with it.” I opened it and was thrilled to see the dazzling four-leaf clover necklace. I thought it was his first, and only, gift to me. I treasured it in the bottom of my jewelry box, never daring to wear it, often taking it out and gazing at it for hours. Turns out, the thing I held so dear was nothing more than Chloe’s discarded trash. “And another time,” Chloe’s voice drifted in again. “I was feeling down in the middle of the night, so I posted a really sad social media post. Guess what? He actually flew from the country to New York overnight just to be with me. Even though I didn’t want to see him, he stood outside in the rain all night long.” I remembered that time. It was after Dean returned from a business trip, soaking wet, and he forcefully pinned me beneath him, taking me with a raw, almost desperate passion. I had naively thought it was proof of his longing for me after days away, a breakthrough in our relationship. Turns out, that wasn’t love at all, nor was it passion. It was merely him taking out his unfulfilled desire for another woman on me, his readily available substitute. “These four years,” Chloe’s voice was full of triumph. “I ignored him, hoping he’d give up, but Dean relentlessly pursued me, sending someone to deliver a bouquet of Lisianthus to me every single day.” The language of Lisianthus flowers is unchanging love, eternal waiting. I felt a sudden wave of dizziness. He didn’t like any plants in the house; he said he was allergic. Because of this, I, who always loved fresh flowers, hadn’t bought a single one in four years. Yet, he had effortlessly ordered flowers for someone else for an entire four years. I was a complete and utter fool. Four years of marriage, a meticulously planned deception. “I’m leaving now.” I couldn’t listen to her anymore. I stood up, pushing open the hospital doors, my exit turning into a desperate escape. I feared that if I stayed one second longer, I would drown completely in this four-year-long illusion. 3. **Avery’s POV** After fleeing the hospital, I locked myself in the villa for three days straight. The necklace I had carefully treasured was someone else’s discarded trash. The passion I thought we shared was merely a tool for someone else’s frustration. The late-night companionship I cherished was nothing more than me witnessing a prolonged declaration of love for another. Four years, fourteen hundred and sixty days—I had lived as a complete substitute, a shadow. Not even a shadow, just an insignificant backdrop in his love story. The butler knocked on my bedroom door. “Madam, Mr. Sterling Sr. requests that you and Mr. Sterling join him for dinner at the estate tonight.” I didn’t refuse. It was a Sterling family tradition, a monthly gathering, absolutely non-negotiable. It took me a long time to cover the exhaustion and pallor on my face with thick concealer. I changed into a proper long dress, once again playing the role of the gentle and virtuous Mrs. Sterling. This was the last time. In the evening, Dean returned, his face a little pale, but still as tall and proud as ever. Seeing me, he simply gave a faint nod, a mere acknowledgment, then went straight upstairs to change. Throughout it all, he didn’t ask why I had suddenly left that day, nor did he ask how I had been these past few days. It was as if I were merely a prop needed to attend a family dinner. The Sterling estate was brightly lit, but the atmosphere was as oppressive as ever. Mr. Sterling Sr., Dean’s father and the group’s patriarch, sat at the head of the table. Halfway through dinner, an older relative spoke with concern: “Dean, you and Avery have been married for four years now, but there’s still no news of a baby? We’re all waiting for grandchildren, you know.” At those words, everyone’s eyes fixated on my flat stomach. Oh no. Dean put down his cutlery, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and said indifferently: “No rush.” Those three light words instantly ignited Mr. Sterling Sr.’s anger. He slammed his fork down on the table. “No rush?!” Mr. Sterling Sr. glared at him. “You’re thirty already, how much longer do you want to wait?! Avery, I ask you, as a wife, do you bear no responsibility at all?!” The矛头(blame/focus) instantly shifted to me. I put down my fork, stood up, and bowed my head slightly. “Dad, it’s my fault.” “Of course, it’s your fault!” Mr. Sterling Sr.’s voice grew even more severe. “I heard you even signed some paper a few days ago, agreeing to Dean’s bone marrow donation surgery? Absurd! The Sterling family’s lineage, our bodies are precious! Is it something a mere wife like you is qualified to decide?!” “Dad, this was my own decision.” Dean interjected, frowning. “You shut up!” Mr. Sterling Sr. snapped. “You have no right to speak here! Avery, you’ve been married into this family for four years, haven’t given birth to a child, and now you can’t even look after your husband’s body. You are a most derelict wife!” Saying that, he gestured to a maid. The maid immediately brought over a bowl of dark, bitter-smelling liquid medicine. “This is medicine I specifically had a renowned doctor prescribe for you. Drink it!” Mr. Sterling Sr. commanded. I looked at the bowl of medicine, my stomach churning. For the first time, I chose to resist. “Dad, I’m sorry, I won’t drink this medicine.” Everyone was stunned, including Dean, who gave me an unexpected glance. Mr. Sterling Sr.’s face was ashen. He pointed a finger at my nose and roared: “You dare defy me! Are you challenging the Sterling family’s rules? Guards!” Two burly bodyguards immediately stepped forward. “Take her to the courtyard! Make her kneel! She can get up when she’s understood her mistake!” I didn’t resist, allowing the bodyguards to lead me out. Throughout it all, Dean sat there, watching indifferently. He didn’t even say a single word in my defense, only averting his gaze the moment I was led away. As if everything about to happen in the courtyard had nothing to do with him. It was a bitter cold autumn night. The Sterling family discipline had always been strict; this wasn’t the first time I’d been punished by kneeling, but it would be the last. After this kneeling, there would be no more. The cold seeped from my knees into my bones, making me shiver uncontrollably. Through the study window, I could clearly see Dean’s silhouette. He didn’t come out. Instead, he sat on the study sofa, on a phone call. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could imagine that on the other end of the line was undoubtedly Chloe. Time ticked by, minute by minute. The sharp pain in my knees had turned numb, and the cold gradually blurred my consciousness. I didn’t know how long I had knelt, only that my body grew colder and colder, and the scene before my eyes began to spin. A second before losing consciousness entirely, I saw Dean in the study finally hang up the phone, stand up, and draw the curtains. He had completely cut off my last sliver of hope. Turns out, he wasn’t unaware; he simply didn’t care. Everything went black. I lost all sensation.

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The villainous mother and her two daughters in this story were tearing each other apart over the male lead. It was my intervention that changed their fate. The older daughter later inherited the family business, and the younger one got into a top-tier university. But at the company’s annual gala, the sisters jointly pleaded with their mom, asking her to bring back Ryan, the man who had lost his wife. “Mom and Ryan have already missed out on a decade together, Dad. You need to be reasonable and generous.” On the day of Katherine’s wedding to Ryan, I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, I summoned the God of Destiny who had sent me here. “I need to leave this messed-up place.” I stood in the pouring rain until the music in my earbuds stopped. I swayed, letting myself topple into the freezing, biting river. I wasn’t from this world. I’d been sent here on a mission to save a family of antagonists from a story. The God of Destiny had tasked me with preventing their tragic fate of tearing each other apart over the male lead. The condition was the healing of my own critically ill body. But tragically, the moment the original love interest was out of the picture, my wife and daughters couldn’t wait to welcome the widowed Ryan into our home. The God of Destiny’s voice echoed: 【Mission failed. If your body in this alternate world perishes, your body in your real world will awaken. However, your time there is also running out. Are you certain you want to leave here?】 I nodded slightly. With the precious little time I had left, I only wished to spend it with my own family and friends. But the expected sensation of drowning never came. A powerful grip seized my arm from behind, yanking me upwards. “What do you think you’re doing? It’s Ryan’s big day, and you just had to pull this stunt?” I turned to see my stepdaughter, Alex. She was gasping for air, her bright eyes burning with fury. She was one of the targets of my mission in this world, and in the later parts of the book, the most fanatical antagonist. She would become so obsessed with Ryan that she’d turn crazy, fall out with her family, and eventually become an outcast everyone avoided. When I became Katherine’s husband, Alex was only six years old. Her birth father had died young, and her mother was constantly busy with work. The young Alex roamed the streets getting into trouble, desperate for attention, but often just messing things up and getting bullied by other kids. I brought her home, cleaned her up, and planned for her future. Alex wasn’t interested in academics, so I encouraged her to pursue business instead. Little Alex had a dream for the first time. Her eyes red-rimmed, she asked me, “Can I call you Dad? Everyone laughs at me for not having a dad, for being unwanted…” After I agreed, she gently hugged me. “Dad, when I grow up and make a lot of money, the first thing I’ll do is buy you a huge house and make sure you’re set for life.” But when she actually achieved her dream, her first demand was for Ryan to become her new father. She stopped calling me Dad. She even hated my guts because of a single comment from Ryan – that I had intentionally let him be abducted by thugs, preventing him from coming back to see her in time. The young woman before me overlapped with the memory of that child who called me Dad, but her eyes now held only a chilling coldness. “No need to keep up the act. You just want to get our attention, right? If you really wanted to die, why pick a spot on my way home from work, timing it perfectly?” I was speechless. I just wanted to find a not-too-ugly way to die, choosing a picturesque spot, and completely hadn’t expected to run into Alex. Seeing I didn’t respond, Alex scoffed, “If you really want to die, go somewhere far away. Ryan loves this river. He walks here when the weather’s nice, don’t you dare…” Her words abruptly cut off. I quickly dashed to the other end of the broken bridge and leapt off. Ryan likes this river, huh? Then I hope he never comes here again. Every time he does, it just fills me with disgust.

My body grew heavier and heavier. In a daze, I heard the beeping of hospital equipment. Mom, Dad, wait for me! Your son is coming home soon! Just as I thought I had succeeded, a powerful force dragged me back to the shore. Alex was drenched, her eyes misted over with water, making it impossible to tell if she’d been crying or if water had just gotten in them. Seeing Alex like that, I joked, mocking her, “You don’t want me to die?” Alex’s face twisted in an awkward expression. “You’re overthinking it. Your death has nothing to do with me. Even if you really wanted to die, I wouldn’t stop you, but not today! I don’t want Ryan to be upset thinking about you every year on his wedding anniversary!” It was for Ryan, of course. Seeing that I was uncharacteristically quiet, Alex grabbed me and started walking towards the house. “Just go home for now. Anyway, you can’t die today. If you really want to die, find somewhere far away, at least somewhere I won’t see you!” Alex was strong; I couldn’t break free. As we reached Katherine’s front door, we ran into Sophia, my daughter in this world. She was dressed in a crisp suit, looking incredibly sharp. She had just rushed over from school. Seeing Alex and me soaking wet, she glanced past me, barely giving me a look, and simply called out, “Alex.” Alex nodded. Sophia then instructed, “Why are your clothes all wet? Be careful not to catch a cold, Alex. Go change quickly. Ryan and Mom’s wedding is about to start.” Throughout the entire exchange, she didn’t spare me a single glance, as if I weren’t her father but a stranger on the street. The book said Sophia was lost at birth and grew up in foster care, developing an extremely gloomy personality. Ryan was supposed to be the only light in her life. But I came. I found her and brought her home. I had such high hopes for this child. In my mind, she was connected to me by blood, not just a character from a book. She wouldn’t need me to meticulously “complete a mission”; she would naturally be on my side. I cherished Sophia like a precious jewel, terrified she would get lost again like in the book. I was hands-on with everything, ensuring Sophia grew up safe and sound. And Sophia indeed grew into an outstanding young woman, completely different from the troubled girl in the book. She was humble, polite, had a sense of family responsibility, cared for her sisters, and even became a star student at school. I never doubted myself. My own daughter, how could I not manage? But the moment Ryan appeared, the usually attentive Sophia changed completely. She started doing all sorts of things I forbade, using them to express her dissatisfaction and rebellion against me. “Why does Dad always have a problem with Ryan? It’s clearly Dad who’s wrong!” I never expected that all the lessons I’d taught Sophia, all those books we’d read together, would turn into weapons against me. “Dad is just jealous of Ryan, which is why he cruelly let Ryan be kidnapped and tortured. He has no kindness in his heart. How can someone like you be my dad?” At that moment, I was standing dumbfounded, holding the breakfast I had woken up early to prepare specifically for her. I felt like I didn’t recognize the daughter I had personally raised. She then slapped the tray out of my hands, declaring she’d never eat anything I made again. The pain in my heart was inexpressible. I sternly reprimanded her, and she looked at me as if I were her enemy. From that day on, my daughter and I never exchanged another word. Hearing Sophia’s question, Alex’s expression was mortified. “Just now… he really jumped into the river.” Sophia frowned slightly, her cold tone utterly devoid of emotion. “Alex, don’t let him trick you. With you there, how could he possibly die? He’s just seeing Ryan come home and throwing a tantrum, resorting to these little tricks. Do you really think he’d give up all the comfort and luxury of this home…” Sophia hadn’t finished her sentence when I slammed my head into the doorframe. I kept sighing inwardly. Ugh, I wanted to die with a bit of dignity, but these two girls are just too noisy. Hot blood streamed down my face, and the world before me plunged into darkness. Just before my consciousness completely faded, I thought I heard someone scream “Dad” in anguish.

When I opened my eyes again, my forehead throbbed faintly. The lavish, modern chandelier above me came into view, and I knew: I hadn’t managed to leave this world again. Every night, I hovered at the edge of death, meaning my time with my family in my original world was shrinking. Time was precious to me. I stared at the chandelier, wondering if I could use it to end everything. The moment I stirred, a hand gripped mine tightly. “Liam, please, stop this nonsense, okay? It’s a good thing you’re weak; you didn’t hit your head too hard. Otherwise, you would have terrified the girls.” It was Katherine, my wife in this world and the company CEO, who spoke. Her brows were tightly furrowed, her gaze fixed on the bandage wrapped around my forehead. Her eyes were deep, making it impossible to guess what she was thinking. In the original story, Katherine was Ryan’s most passionate admirer. Unable to have him, she eventually turned dark, even committing extreme acts of betraying the company and harming others, all to get closer to Ryan. My first act upon arriving in this world was to drug Katherine, making her fall unconscious and unable to pursue Ryan, thereby cutting off the source of all her future wrongdoings. When Katherine woke up, she wanted to end me immediately. But I knew the story inside out and was well aware that Ryan wouldn’t be harmed. It wasn’t until she witnessed Ryan and his love interest living a happy, loving life together that Katherine gradually let go of her prejudice against me. She tried to understand me, to care for me. During that difficult period, she mistakenly thought I was being bullied and personally stood up for me. In that challenging moment, two hearts quietly drew closer. Later, I reined in my temper, managed the household, and supported my wife and daughters. Katherine, too, became like any ordinary wife who cherished her husband. We relied on each other, promising to be together in the next life. Her fate was slowly changing; my mission was nearing completion. At that point, my terminal illness in my original world would be cured, and I could even choose to pause time in my original world to first spend this happy lifetime with Katherine’s family. However, the change came without warning. One stormy night, Ryan returned alone. He cried, throwing himself into Katherine’s arms, pouring out the inhumane suffering he had endured all these years. The usually composed Katherine actually shed tears of heartache. When she learned that I had maliciously hindered Katherine and pushed Ryan into his predicament, Katherine’s entire family – mother and daughters – erupted in fury. They kept Ryan at home, caring for him meticulously, while completely ignoring me. On Sophia’s birthday, I prepared a table full of steak and salad, all their favorites. But I waited until deep into the night, and no one returned. It turned out the three of them were out dining with the dejected Ryan, simply to cheer him up. The day I found Sophia and brought her home was one of the happiest days of my life. Katherine had promised then that she would bring the children to celebrate with me every year because I had given Sophia a home. But now, they had all broken their promises. When Katherine’s family returned, they simply glanced at the table of cold food and blandly said, “Ryan doesn’t like your cooking. You don’t need to make it anymore.” Recalling these past events, I coldly pulled my hand free from Katherine’s tight grip and calmly said, “I’m not being difficult. I just… don’t want to live anymore.” Katherine suddenly seemed annoyed. She leaned over and helped me up; I couldn’t break free. A moment later, she finally spoke, her tone tinged with helplessness. “Liam, don’t say such angry things, and don’t threaten me and the girls with death anymore. Our feelings for each other won’t change. I’ll make sure to discipline the girls well. You will always be the man of this house.” Katherine’s words sounded sweet, as if she still loved me as before. But then, she cautiously observed my expression and mentioned Ryan. “I’ve already assured you, Ryan won’t take your place. You wronged him before, and now he just needs a place to stay… So, where did you hide him? Tell me, and I can pretend nothing happened. We can continue our peaceful life as a family, wouldn’t that be better?” I scoffed inwardly. Ryan’s gone missing again? And Katherine still thinks it’s my doing? Seeing me smile, Katherine couldn’t maintain her detached façade any longer, her tone growing urgent. “Liam, you don’t need to act anymore. I’ve searched. Ryan’s watch was clearly hidden in your closet. You both disappeared simultaneously this morning… Tell me, where did you hide Ryan?” It seemed Ryan was impatient to expel me, even willing to use his own wedding as a scheme. After all, as the male lead, he craved universal adoration; how could he share a woman with another man? What he wanted was to be the only one in the hearts of Katherine and her daughters. I suddenly burst out laughing, “Ha, yes, I did it. Ryan’s dead! I was jealous of him, so I killed him. Do you want to avenge him? Then kill me! Unless… you can’t bear to?” Katherine would stop at nothing for Ryan. If she laid a hand on me to kill me, I could finally go home. Katherine was visibly enraged. Losing all reason, she directly wrapped her hands around my throat. “Liam! How did you become like this…? Ryan has suffered enough; why do you keep harassing him!” Actually, it wasn’t me who changed, but the three women of her family. I didn’t resist, letting my breath gradually weaken. Good. Finally, everything will end. The door was abruptly shoved open, and Alex and Sophia walked in, supporting Ryan.

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My fiancée’s male assistant, Trevor, threw a half-eaten eggplant into her bowl right in front of everyone at the company dinner. Chloe didn’t even hesitate. She just picked it up and ate it. That same day, as soon as we got home, I told her I wanted to call off our arranged marriage. She bristled, “Just because I ate the eggplant he gave me?” “He ate a bite, didn’t like it, and then gave it to you,” I corrected her. “Honestly, saying you’re jealous is an understatement. You always blow things out of proportion.” “Fine,” I shot back, “You want to break up? No problem. Just don’t come crawling back, begging me to get back together.” She was so sure I loved her too much to ever leave. But what she didn’t know was that even the deepest love can erode, chip away, until nothing’s left but dust, especially with constant hurt. This time, I was truly done. That same day, I told my parents I wanted a different fiancée for the arranged marriage. They were a bit surprised, but they respected my decision. After that, Chloe went into her usual cold war mode. My phone number, all my social media, even our shared game accounts – deleted, blocked, the whole package. That was her routine whenever we argued. She was confident I couldn’t bear to lose her, certain I’d swallow my pride and win her back. But this time, I stared at the red “friend request” button and, for once, didn’t press it. A week later, a notification popped up in the company’s SnapChat group: “It’s Chloe’s birthday today! Chloe’s treating everyone, mandatory attendance, no excuses!” I didn’t want to make things awkward for everyone else, so I went. As I stepped into the private dining room, I saw Chloe at the head of the table, and Trevor sitting so close to her, practically glued to her side. Trevor’s lips were pressed against Chloe’s ear, as if sharing some secret. They seemed to exist within their own bubble, impenetrable to outsiders. A moment later, they both burst out laughing, their faces so close they were almost kissing. I couldn’t stand to watch anymore. I found a corner and sat down. Everyone started giving Chloe gifts, but I ignored it all. I poured myself a drink, sipping it slowly, when suddenly, a shadow fell over me. I looked up to see Chloe’s perfectly sculpted face, her expression still etched with that familiar impatience. “Liam, why didn’t you get me a gift?” Normally, on an important day like Chloe’s birthday, I’d have started planning months in advance. One year, I even spent over six months hand-making a life-size replica of the flying house from her favorite movie, Up. When the balloons lifted off, she told me we’d grow old together, just like the characters in the film. I believed her then, never imagining her promise wouldn’t even last three years. Faced with her persistent questioning, I simply replied, “I forgot.” My attitude clearly infuriated Chloe. She completely lost her patience. “Liam, are you done being dramatic? Is such a trivial thing worth an entire week of this nonsense?” I looked at the faint trace of Trevor’s lip balm on her lips, a sickening feeling churning in my stomach. “I’m not being dramatic. And I’m serious about calling off the engagement.” Chloe’s expression froze for a second, but then Trevor squeezed her hand, and she regained her composure. “Liam, please don’t misunderstand,” Trevor said, his voice deliberately soft. “I only gave Chloe my food because I didn’t want to waste it. If you dislike me so much, then next time we have a company dinner, I’ll just skip the table. I’ll wait to eat everyone’s leftovers.” Trevor’s words immediately melted Chloe’s heart. “Trevor, don’t say that! You deserve the best things in the world. Liam’s the one who shouldn’t be here. Who does he think he is? Does everyone have to cater to his whims?” “Chloe, don’t say that about Liam. He might be a little sensitive, but he’s still your fiancé. You should still try to smooth things over. I really don’t want you two fighting because of me.” “Smooth things over with him? Who does he think he is? If my parents hadn’t begged me to go through with this arranged marriage, I wouldn’t be with him. He gets mad over every little thing; it’s so annoying.” Trevor walked over to me, patting my back. His voice was laced with a patronizing tone. “Liam, honestly, from one guy to another, you really are being a bit much this time. Chloe hasn’t been able to sleep for days because of you. Even though I think you two aren’t a good match, you’re still engaged. You should both try to compromise.” I slapped his hand away, a cold laugh escaping me. “Trevor, you know what I admire most about you? It’s how you pretend to be noble while doing the fakest things—and how you can steal someone’s girlfriend with your sugary words, yet still look completely innocent.” Trevor’s smug expression instantly vanished. Chloe exploded. “Liam, who gave you permission to slander Trevor like that?” “Slander? Then tell me, why does he have one of everything you buy me, and then flaunts it in front of me at the office? Why does he always twist our arguments and spread them around the breakroom? And why does he know your—” “Enough!” SMACK! Chloe slapped me across the face in front of everyone. The world around me instantly blurred and became muffled, but my eyes clearly saw the pity, scorn, or disgust on the faces of everyone in the room.

When my hearing finally cleared, I heard Chloe’s loud declaration: “From today on, everyone’s welcome to like my photos with Trevor! If we hit a thousand likes, I’ll drop Liam and go register our marriage with Trevor!” With that, she grabbed Trevor’s hand and walked out without a backward glance. Before leaving the private room, Trevor shot me a triumphant, taunting look. After they left, people in the room started filing out. Some gloated, “Doesn’t even know his place and starts acting up. Now he’s gone too far, bet he regrets it.” Others offered well-meaning advice, “Pride is temporary. Just swallow it, apologize quickly, or Chloe really will go marry Trevor.” I knew perfectly well this was Chloe’s way of forcing me to beg her. But this time, I refused to bend. Not even if it killed me. The once lively room quickly emptied, leaving just me. I grabbed the remaining strong liquor and chugged it. The burning alcohol scorched my throat, then my stomach, bringing tears to my eyes. Decades of a relationship, just over. And yet, it felt almost… anticlimactic. Maybe if I went to an arranged marriage thousands of miles away, to a city down South, she wouldn’t bother me anymore. But for some reason, my face was wet with tears again. I went home and immediately started packing, preparing to leave. Chloe and I had grown up together. More than half of our short lives had been spent side-by-side. The depth of our bond meant I had so much to sort through. This little gold star sticker was the first award Chloe ever received in kindergarten. She’d toddled over to me on her tiny legs and given it to me. I vaguely remembered her saying, “I’m going to give Liam all the best things.” This photo was one she secretly took of me grimacing in pain after I severely sprained my ankle during my first basketball game. Back then, I thought I’d be paralyzed and sadly told her we might not be able to play together anymore. She didn’t say a word, just helped me up and walked me straight to the infirmary. Later, we became a couple. But different colleges forced us into a long-distance relationship. Our memories became a stack of train tickets. For four entire years, 193,700 kilometers was the distance we traveled to be with each other. Back then, she only had eyes for me, and she never once complained about being tired, no matter how long the journey. My fingers brushed against a small, hard box containing the matching rings we had made together. For her, I moved back to this city up North right after college graduation. The day I returned, she dragged me to get these rings made. I still remember her slipping the ring onto my finger and saying, “Liam, with this ring, you’re stuck with me for life. You’ll never get to leave me.” Neither of us knew then that in the end, it wouldn’t be me who let go, but her.

The day Trevor interviewed at the company, he performed terribly. Chloe openly disliked him. I also didn’t give a second thought to an applicant with such poor qualifications and ability. But for some reason, he was eventually hired against all odds, and slowly, from being a barely noticed background character, he became Chloe’s executive assistant. I truly started to notice something was off when I saw our matching ring—the one meant only for Chloe and me—on Trevor’s hand. At first, when I questioned her, Chloe would patiently explain things and try to smooth things over. But gradually, her patience wore thin, replaced only by impatience. My repeated reluctance to let go, my tolerance, my attempts to please her, only made her favoritism for Trevor more blatant. Company dinners would only feature dishes Trevor liked. Trevor worked only half-days a week; the rest of the time, he spent with Chloe, going out, eating, and having fun, while Chloe pushed all his assistant duties onto me. Chloe’s mentions of him became more frequent in front of me. At first, it was unconscious praise and admiration, but later, she started comparing me to him, complaining that I wasn’t as thoughtful or considerate as he was. Until one afternoon during a company tea break, Chloe said the coffee she ordered was delicious, and Trevor said he wanted to try it. Without a word, Chloe handed her coffee to him. He didn’t even bother to change the straw, just took a big sip from the one Chloe had used. Chloe even took the coffee back and continued drinking from the same spot Trevor’s lips had touched. In that moment, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, a mixture of bitterness and searing pain. From then on, Trevor, her “good buddy,” crossed more and more lines. Fearing Chloe would get a sunburn, he directly applied sunscreen all over her body. I, her fiancé, made her lunch, but he made her lunch too. He’d always eat the lunch I made for Chloe, claiming my cooking was “too good to waste,” then make her eat his own instead. Chloe even canceled my birthday celebration because Trevor had a cold. But every time I expressed my unhappiness about these things, Chloe would impatiently snap, “Liam, you really have a twisted mind. You see dirt everywhere. Trevor and I have the purest friendship. Don’t project your filthy thoughts onto him.” Yet, the more she said it, the less conviction she had in her voice. The most infuriating thing was a major industry event organized by our professional association. The organizers required attendees to bring their partners, but Chloe never told me. She just took Trevor. I only found out later when people kept asking me if Chloe and I had broken up. When I confronted her, Chloe got even angrier than I was. “I only took Trevor to network and cultivate talent for the company. Why are you so petty?” That time, we gave each other the cold shoulder for a long time, so long that I actually thought we’d finally split up. Until she sent me a message late one night: “Hubby, my stomach hurts so bad.” All my feigned indifference crumbled in an instant. And so, the terrible cycle of me questioning, her getting angry, me trying to smooth things over, and her forgiving me, began all over again. I closed the ring box and tossed it into the trash can. Deep in the drawer, I found a note Chloe wrote when she was 18, an apology for accidentally missing one of my messages. She really cared about me back then. But now, she only cared about Trevor. I took out the apology letter, tore it into pieces, and threw it in the trash. After thoroughly clearing out decades of emotional baggage, the house felt much emptier. My heart, it seemed, had been emptied along with it. The company’s SnapChat group was still flooded with photos of Trevor celebrating Chloe’s birthday and making her laugh. Knowing Chloe’s favoritism toward Trevor, colleagues eagerly provided them with emotional support. “OMG, Chloe and Trevor are such a perfect match!” “You should definitely find a boyfriend like Trevor, not some petty, sulking guy like Liam.” “Liam only got where he is because of his family. Trevor, on the other hand, made it all on his own. There’s no comparison between them.” I couldn’t stand to look anymore. I called my lawyer directly and instructed him to withdraw all my investments from Smith Corp.

The next day, I went to the company to pack my things, only to find Trevor in my private office lounge, wearing a tank top and with his feet propped up on my desk. His belongings were scattered everywhere, and all of mine had been unceremoniously dumped outside the door. This was my private office lounge, a space Chloe had specifically designed for me. Everyone in the company knew it, and no one dared to enter. Trevor’s actions were a blatant display of disrespect, practically spitting in my face. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I just called the police. In the mediation room, Trevor panicked. “I was just helping Chloe get some documents. Did you really have to call the police?” “That’s my private space. Did I give you permission to just walk in?” I said coldly. “Taking something without asking? That’s stealing, plain and simple.” Trevor didn’t retort, but his expression suddenly shifted to one of profound victimhood. I immediately sensed something was off. And sure enough, when I turned around, who else would be standing there with a stormy face but Chloe? “Chloe!” The moment he saw her, Trevor immediately embraced her, his voice full of feigned injury. “I really just wanted to help you get those documents, but Liam seems to dislike me so much. He keeps insisting I stole something. You’ve given me so many things, my sixty-square-meter villa can’t even fit them all. Why would I need his pathetic belongings?” This small room was a gift from Chloe to me, a return gift for the little wooden cabin I built for her. We shared so many sweet memories in this room. I always thought at least this sanctuary would remain untainted, like the last vestige of dignity in our love. But Chloe, it seemed, still wanted to personally shred my last shred of hope. Chloe consoled Trevor while explaining to the officers, “It’s all a misunderstanding. We all know each other. Sorry to bother you.” Then she turned to me, her voice filled with disgust. “Liam, what has gotten into you? Why are you so jealous all the time? Does it give you great satisfaction to use your power to hurt innocent subordinates like Trevor? You really disappoint me.” Her reproaches rained down on me, and before I could even object, Trevor started his drama again. “Chloe, don’t blame Liam. It’s my fault for being careless. At most, I’ll spend a few days in jail, and people can laugh at me. It’s fine. Just don’t let this cause trouble between you and Liam.” Chloe grabbed Trevor’s hand, her face full of concern. “Trevor, you’re just too soft, that’s why people always pick on you.” Then she turned to me, her tone firm. “Liam, let me tell you, this isn’t just going to blow over. You need to apologize to Trevor immediately.” “Chloe, he entered my private space without my permission. And you want me to apologize to him? You still think he’s the victim?” The moment I spoke, Trevor started looking tearful again. Chloe scoffed. “Your private space? That lounge belongs to Smith Corp, don’t forget. The entire Smith Corp is under my name; you only have temporary usage rights. If you keep this attitude, I won’t hesitate to have you charged with false accusation.” With that, she dragged Trevor away to settle things. Her words were like a sharp spike, piercing deeply into my heart. My heart, which I thought had long gone numb, began to ache all over again. For so many years, I had poured my heart and soul into supporting Smith Corp, believing I was fighting for our shared future. Only to be told, in the end, “you only have temporary usage rights.” Before Chloe and Trevor left the mediation room, she gave me a warning. “Just a friendly heads-up: the likes have already reached 990. If you keep this attitude, I’m really going to go register my marriage with Trevor.” I looked at Trevor’s sneering eyes behind her and suddenly realized my own pathetic situation. Trevor’s tactics had always been clumsy; the intelligent Chloe couldn’t possibly have been blind to them. She simply chose to ignore them. The scales of love in her heart had long since tipped. All of this was just her way of getting rid of me, her stage-five clinger. And I, like an idiot, kept trying to make peace again and again. Once I fully grasped this, the last bit of love I had for Chloe died completely. During the days leading up to my departure for the city down South, some gloating colleagues would privately message me, giving me updates on the “like” count. “The likes are at 994! If you don’t grovel now, someone else will steal your fiancée!” “Tsk, tsk, tsk, 997 likes already. Looks like you’re destined to be single for life.” “Oh, sticking it out for a long time this time, huh? Did you pee your pants and run away because you think you can’t compare to Trevor, hahaha?” I blocked and deleted all of them, ignoring their taunts. When the likes reached 999, and I still hadn’t shown up to beg, the tension around Chloe was suffocating. No one in the company dared to press that final “like” button. Just as Chloe was wondering how to deliver another warning, someone suddenly burst into her office, shouting, “Chloe, the 1000th like has been achieved!”

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My childhood friend dragged me to the circus, only for me to witness a shocking scene: a bear riding a female acrobat, to thunderous applause… Jake called me, buzzing about this amazing new spot he’d found. Super exclusive, members only, he said. Curiosity got the better of me, so I went along. What I saw there left me speechless. I never imagined the animals from our local town circus had this kind of purpose! I’m a psychologist, but I had to quit my city job and move back to our small town to take care of my sick grandmother. I opened a private practice here, hoping for the best. Business was slow, bordering on non-existent. Thankfully, the town offered some grants, which kept my office barely afloat. Then, one day, I got a bizarre house call. It was from the town circus. I figured one of the circus performers was overwhelmed with stress and needed therapy. Turns out, they wanted me to counsel their animals. I was beyond annoyed. I’m a psychologist, not a vet… But with my business struggling, even a request this insane was something I had to accept, albeit with a heavy sigh. I barely stepped through the entrance when Eleanor Vance, the circus director, practically yanked me inside. “Dr. Miller, right? You have to see our lion! He hasn’t been able to perform lately, completely lethargic, and we don’t know why.” Eleanor was a stunning woman in her early thirties, her fiery red curls swaying with every move. Her face, with its delicate dimples, was innocent yet captivating, a perfect blend of purity and allure. And beneath that sweet face was a figure that defied her delicate features – a perfect 36D. Many men in town, both openly and secretly, had pursued her. But she always said she was married, her husband working out of town, and she’d refuse all advances. What was strange was that no one in town had ever actually seen her husband. Everyone said she was a good woman, fiercely loyal to her absent spouse. She’d been running this circus since I was in high school. She was even the subject of my first wet dream. “Eleanor,” I asked, puzzled, “why haven’t you called a vet?” She lowered her gaze, fidgeting slightly. “We did. They all said there’s nothing wrong…” I followed her into the big top. Inside, dim fairy lights cast eerie shadows, making the atmosphere unsettling. “Dr. Miller, this way…” Eleanor led me to the very back. All the animals were kept in the back enclosures. I immediately spotted the listless lion. As I got closer, a strong, pungent, musky odor hit me, mixed with a sickly sweet, fishy scent that couldn’t be masked. On the wall behind the cage, I saw several whips and electric prods hanging. Everything about this place made me feel deeply uncomfortable. “Eleanor, do you have visitors this early?” I looked up. A woman in a skimpy bikini, barely covered by a sheer wrap, was leaning against the doorway. “Don’t be silly,” Eleanor frowned, “this is Dr. Miller. He’s here to see Little Wild.” She immediately turned to me, a forced smile on her face. “Sorry, Dr. Miller, Little Wild is the lion.” The woman scoffed. “Dr. Miller, you simply have to fix Little Wild. I just adore Little Wild’s…” I glanced at Eleanor from the corner of my eye. She was frantically motioning at the woman to shut up. The woman smirked, licking her lips. “I mean, I love Little Wild’s back… it’s so easy to step on…” Eleanor let out a relieved breath. “Daisy, why don’t you go back inside? It’s rude to see guests dressed like that.” I waved a hand, indicating it was fine. Daisy defiantly puffed out her chest. “Whatever. Boring.” With a provocative sway of her slender hips, she walked away. I gave an awkward laugh. “Eleanor, let me take a look at him first.” Eleanor’s cheeks flushed. She nodded. “Of course, Dr. Miller. Thank you for coming.” I knelt down for a closer inspection. The lion lay listlessly in the corner, panting heavily, as if it had been severely overworked. “Eleanor,” I asked casually, “what does this lion do in the circus? Why does it seem so exhausted?” Eleanor froze for a moment, her already flushed cheeks turning a deeper crimson. “Uh… nothing special. Just normal performances…” With that, Eleanor also knelt beside me. The subtle scent of jasmine, likely from her, instantly filled my nostrils. But to my surprise, the moment Eleanor knelt, the lion suddenly let out a low growl, as if it strongly resented her presence. Or perhaps, it resented anyone from the circus. Because I, an outsider, had been standing there for quite some time, and it hadn’t shown any defensive behavior towards me. My sharp eyes caught sight of a small, locked door on the right side of the cage. I pointed to it. “Eleanor, what’s that small door for?” Eleanor replied, “That’s for feeding the lion.” “…” I knew Eleanor wasn’t telling the truth. There was already an opening at the top of the cage. If it were just for feeding, there wouldn’t be a need for two separate openings. I cleared my throat. “Well, Eleanor, it seems like prolonged activity might have led to depressive tendencies in the lion. I suggest you give him a break for a while and see if he improves. Also, try to keep people away from him, as he might become aggressive.” Eleanor gasped in surprise. “Depressive tendencies?…” It took her a moment to recover. “Alright, then. I’ll instruct everyone to remove Little Wild from the schedule for now.” I nodded. Turning back to the lion, I instantly felt my eyes widen. The lion had stood up, giving me a clear view of its lower abdomen. Its reproductive organ was a deep purplish-red, with barbs unnaturally erect, a truly sickening sight. “Eleanor, um… there’s another possibility. Lions need to mate regularly…” I struggled for a moment before saying, “Could it be that he hasn’t been able to release himself for a long time, so…” Eleanor immediately cut me off. “No! He always has…” She instantly realized her tone was too sharp. “I mean, Little Wild has a steady partner. He’s just been loaned out recently, so it shouldn’t be that reason.” I nodded, not making a big deal out of it. I just prescribed some animal-safe medication for the lion. Before leaving, I repeatedly stressed that it absolutely shouldn’t be overworked anymore. Its condition was already critical. Eleanor walked me to the gate and then went back inside. As soon as I stepped out, my foot landed in a puddle of liquid. I cursed under my breath, looking down. It was a used condom – extra thick and enlarged. “Dammit, what rotten luck…” I wiped my shoe on the grass nearby, not giving it much thought.

A week after I got home, my childhood friend, Jake, called. “Bro, are you free this Friday? The town circus is putting on a show, and I got us two ‘special’ tickets!” I thought back to my strange house call last week. “I already checked it out for you,” I retorted. “It’s just a bunch of old, sick, and weak animals. Nothing to see.” Jake chuckled into the phone. “Nah, who said anything about watching animals? We’re going for the beautiful performers, man!” I suddenly remembered the woman who’d come out in just a bikini top and sheer wrap last week. Daisy, was it? Well… she certainly had a lot going on. “Fine. Come by my office on Friday.” Being a small business owner meant I was chained to the store, barely making ends meet, with no money to hire help. Jake laughed. “That’s the spirit! Your little shop’s practically empty anyway, nothing to look at there.” “Gotta go, a client just walked in.” “You’re lying…” I hung up. I wasn’t lying to Jake. A client really had walked in. It was Eleanor Vance. Today, she wore a stunning strapless green gown, her fiery red hair loosely swept up with a clip, two delicate strands framing her face, a look both seductive and sweet. Eleanor held up a small box, smiling. “Dr. Miller, I specially came to thank you. That lion you saw last time has started eating again. If I didn’t think you’d blush, I’d practically nominate you for an award.” I managed a faint smile. “Don’t mention it. I’m just glad he’s doing better.” Eleanor ran a hand through her hair. “Well, I won’t keep you from your work. Come see a show sometime. We’re open every day except this Friday.” My mind went blank for a second. I nodded mechanically, watching Eleanor sway her hips as she walked out the door, my thoughts miles away. I just couldn’t snap out of it. I remembered Jake had invited me for this Friday. Why did Eleanor say they wouldn’t be open to guests that day? I pulled out my phone. Jake had sent me a picture of the tickets. Right there, it clearly read: “This Friday, July 28th, ‘Charm Circus’ welcomes you.” My heart pounded with anticipation. I grew increasingly curious about what kind of “special show” Jake’s tickets were for!

After two days of agonizing anticipation, Friday finally arrived. And wouldn’t you know it, that jerk Jake was late. I was tapping my foot incessantly at the coffee shop across from the circus. The moment he picked up, I ripped into him. “Are you serious, man? The show’s already started! Any later and we’ll be watching the finale!” “Hold on, hold on, I’m here! Come out now!” I looked up and sure enough, there was that idiot, Jake, looking around frantically at the entrance. “You—” Jake grabbed my arm. “No time to argue, let’s go!” We handed over our tickets. As we walked in, we could already hear the announcement: [Ladies and gentlemen, next up: The Chest Crush!] We found our seats. I glanced around and noticed the audience was entirely male. And most of them looked to be around forty years old. Their faces were flushed, their eyes glued to the stage. “Whoa!” I exclaimed. The woman on stage was Daisy, the one I’d seen that day. She was dressed even more provocatively than when I first met her. While no vital parts were exposed, there wasn’t much left to the imagination either. She still wore the sheer wrap from that day. Her curves, while not as generous as Eleanor’s, were pert and perfectly sculpted. Daisy gave a coy bow, left and right, then dramatically ripped off her sheer wrap. Her chest, a symphony of movement, bounced and swayed with every sensual twist of her body. The entire audience erupted in an astonished “Woah!” Then she brazenly lay down, spreading her legs. Two other girls, dressed in bunny outfits, brought a stone slab onto the stage. It was then I realized that this circus was no longer the one I used to watch years ago. But what truly made my pupils tremble was the next part of the act. The two bunny-clad girls led a small bear forward. Then, one of the girls placed a step stool next to Daisy’s platform. The bear stepped onto the stool, one paw after another, and climbed onto the stone. Thud! The stone slab shattered. Daisy let out a seductive gasp. Jake leaned into my ear, whispering, “Holy shit, she’s wild. I’m telling you, she’s the hottest one here!” Then Jake’s eyes widened, fixated. “Unbelievable!” “Unbelievable wha—” My gaze followed his to the stage. Daisy was cupping the bear’s face, gently licking its nose. The bear’s paw brushed against Daisy’s breast.

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My husband’s first love came back to life and reincarnated as our family cat. She tore my dresses. Knocked over my perfume. Scratched and bit me whenever she could. I complained to my husband. He only scolded me. “Why are you jealous of a cat? Elara is gone. Mimi is all I have left of her. Can’t you even tolerate that?” The cat shot me a smug, triumphant look, then curled into Jared’s arms. He stroked her fur, his voice thick with affection. “My poor Elara. If I could do it all over, I’d have given you a child. You must have been so lonely… that’s why you sent Mimi to me.” Oh, the loneliness? I can fix that right now. So, I took her to the park, where all the stray cats were waiting. They were all males. Jared went downstairs to get a package. The moment the door closed, Mimi jumped from her cat tree. She streaked toward me, back arched, teeth bared, a low growl rumbling in her throat. I ignored her and turned toward my room. She lunged. Claws sliced across my arm, leaving three raised red lines that quickly beaded with blood. I hissed in pain, bent down, and grabbed a slipper by my feet. Just as I raised it, the door opened. Instantly, Mimi retracted her claws, tucked her tail, and scurried to Jared’s feet. She looked up at him with watery eyes and let out a pitiful meow, darting glances at me as if she were the most aggrieved creature alive. Jared picked her up, his fingertips gently stroking her fur, his voice soft and tender. “What’s wrong, my Mimi? Who upset you?” I pointed to the bleeding marks on my arm, my voice tight. “Jared, she scratched me. It’s bleeding.” Jared didn’t even glance at my bleeding arm. He kept murmuring to the cat in his arms. “Impossible. My Mimi is the sweetest thing. She’d never scratch anyone. You must have scared her. She was just defending herself. Honestly, Chloe, you’re an adult. Why are you picking on a cat?” Mimi nuzzled into him, then tilted her head to blink at me. The triumph in her eyes was unmistakable. My grip on the slipper tightened until my knuckles turned white. I said nothing. A couple of days later, Jared went to the grocery store and asked me to feed Mimi. I mixed her expensive imported food and set the bowl down. Mimi sniffed it, then lifted a paw and tipped the bowl over. Kibble scattered across the floor, some hitting my pants. I knelt to clean it up, but she started aggressively pawing at my hair and stepping all over my clothes. Cat litter even rubbed off onto my collar. My patience finally snapped. I stood up to get a broom and shoo her away. Just as I reached the doorway, I heard keys in the lock. Mimi shot to the door, meowing piteously at Jared. Then she deliberately threw her full weight against my leg before collapsing to the floor with a dramatic thud. She rolled onto her back, belly exposed, looking utterly broken, as if clinging to her last breath after a beating. Jared rushed over, scooping her up. He’s panic. “My Mimi! How did you fall? Did she push you? Are you hurt, my darling?” I suppressed my rising fury and explained. “She deliberately ran into me! And she kicked over her food, getting cat litter all over me!” Jared snapped, his voice turning cold. “Chloe, enough. Don’t accuse Mimi. She’s gentle. She’d never do that. You probably didn’t want to feed her, so you made a mess, then tried to chase her off. Of course she panicked and ran into you.” “How many times do I have to say it? Be kind to her. Treat her like family. Why can’t you listen?” He lowered his head, cooing at the cat in his arms, his voice softening once more. “It’s all right, Mimi. Daddy’s here. No one can hurt you. Stay away from her from now on, don’t let her scare you.” Mimi nestled against him, eyes half-closed. Something like a smirk touched her mouth. She rubbed her head deliberately along his chin, a display of spoiled triumph that made my hands shake with fury. Jared always believed that cat. He always thought it was my fault. Even with the proof right in front of him, he’d look away and spin the story until the blame landed squarely back on me.

Jared’s indulgence of that cat had no bottom line. A while back, we had mice, so he bought rat poison and put it in the lowest corner of a cabinet, covered by a box. That morning, I was making oatmeal in the kitchen, while Jared was in the living room, watching TV with Mimi. The moment I turned my back to get the groceries, I heard the sound of a box tumbling in the living room. When I rushed out, I saw Mimi pawing at a bag of rat poison. The bag was torn open, white powder scattered across the floor, clinging suspiciously to its paws. I gasped, rushing forward to try and gather the bag, but Mimi was gone. I cautiously followed her into the kitchen. I watched as she lifted her paw, scraping the rat poison powder directly into the oatmeal I had just finished cooking. “What are you doing!” I shrieked, reaching out to shoo her away. Jared followed me in, saw the rat poison on the floor and the powder in the oatmeal, and just chuckled, bending down to pick up the cat. “Mimi, you little troublemaker. Always up to something.” He tapped the cat’s head, his voice dripping with fondness. Not a trace of reproach. I was in shock. “She put rat poison in the oatmeal! This could have killed someone!” Jared glanced at the oatmeal. He shrugged. “So? Just dump it out. Mimi doesn’t understand. It was just playing. It’s not like she meant to hurt anyone.” Mimi rubbed against him in his arms, her eyes fixed on me with a defiant look. Watching Jared’s casual demeanor, a wave of fury washed over me. “Doesn’t understand? How did she know the rat poison was under the cabinet? How did she know to tear open the box? And how did it just happen to fall into my oatmeal?” Jared’s face hardened, his tone turning accusatory. “What are you implying? That Mimi deliberately tried to harm you? She’s just a cat, what kind of evil intentions could she have?” I looked at the cat in his arms. It was squinting, almost as if smiling. How had she found it so precisely? How had she scattered it right into my oatmeal? Jared set the cat down and turned to me. “Stop staring. Dump it and make a new batch. And from now on, keep things like this where Mimi can’t get to them.” With that, he picked up Mimi and returned to the living room, continuing to watch TV. I stood in the kitchen, staring at the tainted bowl. I was growing certain. Something was deeply wrong with this cat. She wasn’t just clueless. She was doing it on purpose. She wanted to hurt me.

This silver tabby was Elara Stone’s cat, Jared’s first love. After Elara’s unexpected death, Jared brought Mimi straight home. He bought her premium imported cat food, designer collars, and regularly took her for grooming appointments. He even brought the cat when we visited my parents. My mom’s dog, who usually roamed free, approached Mimi and sniffed her. Mimi let out a yelp. Jared clutched the cat tighter, yelling at me. “Control your dog! What if it scares Mimi?” My mother quickly pulled the dog back. “He was only saying hello. He didn’t mean any harm.” Jared wouldn’t let it go. “What if it bit Mimi? She’s all I have left of Elara. If anything happens to her, could you even afford to make it right?” All my relatives stared at me. I stood rooted to the spot, speechless. All the money at home, Jared spent on the cat. I contributed my salary to household expenses, and those high-end cat supplies were all bought with my money. Mimi would bite and scratch me whenever she saw me. One time, Mimi broke the skin on my arm. I went for a rabies shot. Afterward, a rash spread across my body. The doctor called it an allergic reaction. I called Jared. I told him about the allergy and that I needed to go to the hospital. On the phone, Jared only said, “Got it.  I’m taking Mimi to her grooming appointment. We’ll talk later.” He hung up. No other questions. I went to the hospital alone, got some medication, and came back. Jared was already home, feeding Mimi treats. I told him, “The allergy is really uncomfortable.” Jared mumbled an ‘hmm’ without looking up. Mimi meowed at me, even swiping a paw. Jared quickly pressed down on her paw. “Stay still, sweetheart. Don’t get near her.” I asked, “Aren’t you going to ask how bad it is? How bad the allergy was?” Jared finally looked up. He blamed. “What’s the issue? It’s just an allergy. You took the medicine, right? You always make a scene and ruin my time with Mimi.” Mimi rubbed against him, her eyes fixed on me, almost as if smiling. I thought of the looks from my relatives, the scratches on my arm, the rash all over my body during the allergy attack, the rat poison in the oatmeal, and a heavy knot formed in my chest. Jared continued. “Mimi’s had it hard. With Elara gone, if I don’t spoil her, who will? You’re the lady of the house. Can’t you show a little grace? What kind of person picks fights with a cat?”

Ever since the rat poison incident, the certainty had been growing in me-something was wrong. This cat was too clever. Almost unnervingly human. The way she looked at me was exactly like Elara used to look at me before she died. I even wondered if Elara’s soul had somehow possessed it. Every time Jared and I tried to be intimate, she’d interfere. She’d either suddenly jump over and scratch me, or she’d meow incessantly at us, making it impossible for us to continue. Jared never blamed her. He’d just coo, “Is Mimi jealous? It’s okay, Daddy loves you.” Then he’d turn to me and complain, “Can’t you wait until Mimi’s asleep? She’s still young and needs constant attention.” I didn’t argue, but my suspicions grew heavier. The true moment of clarity hit me this time. Jared said Mimi needed a check-up, and asked me to drive her to the vet. I put Mimi in her carrier and placed it on the passenger seat. Just as I got onto the main road, she suddenly began to thrash violently in the carrier, her claws scratching against the bars, and meowing aggressively at my face. Distracted, I glanced at her, and the steering wheel swerved sharply. The car veered directly towards the roadside barrier. I slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a halt, scraping the barrier. My heart pounded furiously. I turned to look at her. She had quieted down, her eyes filled with disappointment. In that moment, I knew. It was Elara. She wanted me to crash the car. She wanted to usurp my place, to push me out of Jared’s life and claim it for herself. A chilling dread washed over me, but I didn’t dare speak out. I just grit my teeth, drove her to the vet, and brought her home after the check-up. Jared noticed a few scrapes on her body and, heartbroken, asked what had happened. When he heard about the near-accident, that grown man actually broke down into sobs!

He held Mimi tightly, burying his face in her fur. “My poor girl, don’t leave me, please? Daddy was terrified. I swear I’ll never leave your side again.” He stroked her back, his gaze distant and sorrowful. “Elara…you left too soon. My beautiful Elara, it still breaks me. All you left me was this cat. If anything happened to her, I couldn’t face you..” Mimi nuzzled into him, purring softly. But her eyes stayed on me, accusing. I watched them coolly, then spoke, my voice level. “There’s a simple solution. Take her to a breeder. With her pedigree, you could charge a thousand per mating. There’d be a waiting list. Once she has kittens, your attachment could live on.” Jared went still. He looked up, his expression hardening into something savage. “No! Absolutely not!” “Mimi is pure. She would never be bred with some filthy stray. What kind of suggestion is that?” Mimi seemed startled by his shout. She immediately shrank, tucked her tail between her legs, her eyes watery, trembling all over. But she subtly glanced up, staring at me with fury. I watched her performance and smiled coldly inside. Keep acting. Jared lowered his head to comfort her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about her. Who would dare make you breed? I’d be the first to object.” He turned a sharp glare on me, his voice thick with accusation. “Enough. That’s Elara’s legacy. I would never subject her to that humiliation. What exactly are you plotting?” I lmet his eyes, a slight, cool smile touching my lips. “Plotting? What could I possibly be plotting?” “You’re afraid she’ll die, aren’t you? If she has kittens, problem solved.” “Not like that!” Jared snapped. “What kind of cats are in those places? They could be diseased. They could hurt her. No. Never!” Mimi rubbed against him, a smug glint in her eyes. I dropped the argument and just stared at the cat. Since you look down on those pampered purebreds at the shelter, you get what you get. The park is crawling with scruffy, filthy toms. When they’re in heat, they don’t ask for a pedigree. Then, your precious Elara can get a real taste of “love.”

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