After the explosion, I escaped to a border town and opened a flower shop under a new identity. Everyone thought I died in that explosion. For two years, my gravestone has been spotlessly cleaned every single day. Until today, when a customer walked into my flower shop. The person who pushed open the door was an old friend of mine. She stared at me in shock, asking why I hadn’t gone back if I was alive. She also said Kael had been guarding my grave for two years and nearly committed suicide. Kael was my ex-husband, the Alpha heir of the Dubois pack. He had a childhood sweetheart. Her parents died fifteen years ago saving Kael’s mother, Luna Raven, during a Rogue attack. After that, Talia became Kael’s foster sister. After I married Kael, she began targeting me. The first time, she locked me in a burning building. I barely escaped by breaking through a window, my entire body covered in burns. Kael brought in the best specialists, pulled me back from death’s door, and helped heal my skin. The second time, she conspired with several Rogues to ambush me on my way home. I was beaten within an inch of my life. Kael rescued me and captured those Rogues, punishing them severely. She harmed, he rescued. Over and over again. Until the last time. Talia bought a potion from a witch and created a massive explosion. My entire body was blasted, my lungs critically injured. As they lifted me onto a stretcher, I used every ounce of strength to beg Kael to report this to the Wolf Council. He knelt down and gently shook his head. “Alicia, Talia didn’t mean it. Her parents died for my mother.” “For my sake, can you let it go?” In that moment, my heart died completely.

The next day, I woke up in the hospital, and the first thing I did was call Luna Raven. I knew she’d never liked me. My voice was terrifyingly calm. “I agree to divorce Kael.” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Luna Raven responded decisively: “Good that you’ve come to your senses. I’ll have someone send over the papers. Just sign them.” Not long after I hung up, a lawyer appeared in my hospital room, mechanically handing me a divorce agreement. Tears blurred my vision as memories of Kael flooded back uncontrollably. In our three years of marriage, he’d been considerate and gentle, taking care of everything. But when it came to anything involving Talia, he never had any boundaries. The first time we met, Talia locked me in a house engulfed in flames. Later, with burns covering my entire body, it took multiple healers to restore my skin. Crying, I begged Kael to hold her accountable, but he just held me and said, “Alicia, Talia was just careless. She’s not a bad person. I’m just glad you’re okay.” From then on, time and again, countless acts of harm were all brushed aside by him. The lawyer took the signed documents with relief. “Alicia, once the divorce is finalized, I’ll deliver it personally.” After he left, I was alone in the hospital room. Before long, the door was pushed open again. Talia walked in holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, smiling brightly. I trembled all over, instinctively shrinking back. “What are you doing here?” She casually tossed the flowers on the floor, her smile radiant yet venomous: “To send you off personally, of course!” “The explosion didn’t kill you, so I’ll have to do it myself.” Then she lunged onto the bed and grabbed my throat in a death grip. I struggled desperately. But having just survived severe burns, I was no match for Talia, who trained regularly. The air in my lungs rapidly depleted, and darkness closed in on my vision. Just as my consciousness was about to fade, the doctor making rounds burst in, screaming: “What are you doing! Stop!” In the chaos, I used my last bit of strength to grab the doctor’s hand. “Call… call the Wolf Council…” Then I blacked out completely. When I woke up again, Kael’s dark face filled my vision. He was suppressing his anger. “Alicia, why did you report this to the Wolf Council? Talia’s been taken away by them!” My heart felt like a sharp blade had been driven through it, the pain suffocating. “She just tried to strangle me to death!” Kael frowned. “I’ve told you before—Talia’s parents sacrificed themselves for my mother. She’s wounded inside but not fundamentally bad. She would never actually want you dead…” “Not actually want me dead?!” I cut him off sharply, three years of fear, grievance, and rage exploding all at once: “She locked me in a fire! She conspired with Rogues to ambush me! She created an explosion that did this to me, and just now she tried to strangle me!” “Which time wasn’t an attempt on my life? If that doctor hadn’t come in, I’d be dead! Don’t you understand?!” Kael sighed and reached out to hold me. I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me! This time I won’t back down. I will make sure she faces legal consequences!” Kael was silent for a moment, then his eyes grew resolute: “Talia and I grew up together. She’s just been spoiled and become willful. I’ll strictly discipline, criticize, and punish her.” “But I will never let her be imprisoned by the Wolf Council and have her life ruined!” Before I could react, his assistant stepped forward and placed a document in front of me. “Sign this, we’ll let bygones be bygones, and things can go back to how they were.” I stared at the glaring words “Settlement Agreement” and felt utterly absurd. “I won’t sign it!” “Talia lost her parents young and has never faced hardship like this. She can’t handle a place like prison.” “Alicia, be good.” “I said I won’t sign!” I practically shouted. The next second, the assistant roughly grabbed my arm and twisted it hard! “Ah!” Searing pain shot through my entire body. He forced my hand to sign the settlement, then pressed my finger into ink and stamped it down quickly! Kael stood nearby, watching quietly. Drenched in sweat, I looked up at this man I’d loved for years, my voice weak: “Kael… you’re doing this to me for her?” He turned to his assistant and instructed: “Call the doctor. Use the best medicine. Get her hand treated and take good care of her.”

Kael didn’t show up for the next few days, only sending a few messages daily. [I’ve been swamped with pack business lately, can’t get away.] [Don’t be mad. When you’re discharged, I’ll take you to the countryside to relax.] [Does your hand still hurt? Take care of yourself.] But right after each text arrived, Talia’s messages would follow. All photos of Kael by her side. Pouring her water, massaging her shoulders, even using that self-defense knife he never let me touch to peel an apple for her. That night, lying in my hospital bed, I suddenly felt an indescribable pain in my body and heart. The pain kept me from sleeping. Sensing something, I called Kael. The phone rang for a long time with no answer. After I hung up, Talia’s message immediately arrived. [Hehe, guess what we’re doing?] Below was a video. Just the thumbnail radiated an intensely intimate atmosphere. My hands trembling, I opened it. In the video, Talia was disheveled, flushed, leaning against the headboard. She suddenly got up and tightly wrapped her arms around Kael’s waist from behind, pressing her heated body against his broad back. “Kael… don’t go… I feel terrible… that wine… was too strong…” “If you leave… something bad will happen to me… please…” Kael’s steps halted abruptly. He looked back at Talia’s hazy eyes. Finally, he gritted his teeth and hung up on my call. He turned and helped Talia back onto the bed. “I can only stay until morning.” The video then plunged into darkness, with only a low growl and Talia’s satisfied soft laughter. I felt frozen to my core, clutching my phone, stubbornly dialing Kael’s number. All night long, over four hundred calls. Kael didn’t answer a single one. Not until the next day, when dawn broke, did I receive a few words: [I was handling an emergency pack situation last night.] I twisted my lips in a sardonic smile. So his “emergency situation” was having sex with another woman. The day I was discharged was my birthday. Kael personally came to pick me up and threw me a birthday party at a restaurant. The banquet hall was exquisitely decorated, and he stayed by my side the entire time. After cutting the cake, he gently fastened a custom-made pure gold necklace around my neck. It drew countless envious looks. But all I felt was that necklace pressing on my chest like a mountain. Midway through, I couldn’t breathe and got up to go to the restroom. Just as I reached the hallway corner, Talia blocked my path. “Well, well, if it isn’t tonight’s happiest woman, Alicia?” She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her face full of mockery. I didn’t want to deal with her and turned to leave, but she quickly stepped forward to block me. “Kael values you so much—throwing you a party, giving you such an expensive necklace. You must be feeling pretty smug, right?” “But last time when you reported me to the Wolf Council, didn’t he force you to sign a settlement and get me out?” “Do you know how much Kael can’t live without me? We’ve been through everything together over the years! And yet you still shamelessly cling to him. Tell me, shouldn’t I hate you?” These words were like poisoned blunt knives, repeatedly torturing my already shattered heart. My face went pale. I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. But she wouldn’t let it go, suddenly grabbing my hand, her nails digging into my flesh. “You didn’t die last time. Let’s see if your luck holds this time!”

As soon as she finished speaking, two burly werewolves emerged from the shadows in the hallway, grabbed me from both sides, and dragged me without question into an empty room on the top floor! I struggled in terror, but my strength was nothing against them. Talia’s eyes were vicious yet triumphant: “Alicia, since Kael likes you, I’ll destroy you completely! Let’s see if he’ll still want a mate who’s been ruined!” A sleazy-looking man walked toward the bed with a lecherous grin. I fought desperately, drowning in despair. Talia even pulled out her phone, ready to record everything! Just as that disgusting hand was about to touch my clothing, the door was kicked open with a bang! Kael stormed in like an enraged beast, radiating terrifying violence. Seeing me on the bed, restrained and disheveled, his eyes blazed with fury. With one clean shoulder throw, he instantly slammed the man approaching me to the ground. The guy didn’t even have time to scream before passing out. “Alicia!” He rushed over, released my restraints, and held me tightly in his arms. “Don’t be afraid! I’m here! It’s okay now…” The terror of narrowly escaping and overwhelming grievance burst through my defenses. I broke down crying in his arms. He scooped me up, carefully wrapping me in his coat, preparing to leave. As he passed Talia, his steps paused, his eyes cold: “Talia! I’ve tolerated your willful behavior before for your parents’ sake, but you dare use such despicable methods to hurt my wife!” “If anything had happened to Alicia today, I would never forgive you!” Talia was frightened by the undisguised killing intent in his eyes and stepped back, then shrieked as if wounded: “What are you going to do! Send me to prison?” “Fine! Kael, if you want my life, I’ll give it back to you right now!” With that, she unexpectedly pulled out a knife and thrust it toward her own chest! “Talia—!” Kael’s face went deathly pale. Almost instinctively, he dropped me and shot toward Talia like lightning! Caught off guard, I was thrown onto the cold, hard floor. My injuries were aggravated, sending waves of pain through my body. I struggled to get up, only to see Kael frantically carrying a blood-covered Talia and running out the door. I walked to the window and watched Kael rush out of the building carrying Talia, jump into his SUV. The engine roared violently as the vehicle sped away. Not once did he look back at me. I collapsed on the cold floor, watching the direction the car disappeared, my heart filled with nothing but endless desolation. Finally, I steadied myself, slowly stood up, and walked home alone. Kael had also returned. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so hard it felt like he’d crush my bones: “Talia’s bleeding internally. You’re the only nearby match for her blood type!” My vision went dark, blood rushing to my head. “No! Kael, have you lost your mind! Why should I save her?” But he gripped my arm tightly, his eyes pleading: “Alicia! Talia tried to kill herself because of what I said. I can’t let her die! She’s still young! Donating some blood won’t hurt you much. I’ll get the best doctors to help you recover and make it up to you tenfold later, okay?” I resisted hysterically, but in the end, he dragged me into the operating room and pressed me onto the surgical table! “Kael! I hate you!!” Before the anesthesia took effect, my cries became my last conscious memory.

When I woke up again, it was the next day. Kael was keeping watch by the bed. Seeing me open my eyes, he immediately came over: “Alicia, you’re awake?” He pulled out various expensive nutritional supplements, vitamins, and gifts, but I just stared numbly at the ceiling, my eyes vacant. That day, while Kael went out to buy me porridge, the recovered Talia snuck into my room. “Well, well, if it isn’t my lifesaver?” “Alicia, you’re so pathetic—unconscious for so long! Nearly all the blood in your body was transfused to me. Thanks to you, I survived.” I felt nothing but disgust and said hoarsely, “Get out.” She glared at me viciously. “A blood bank acting all high and mighty!” With that, she stormed out angrily. Shortly after, Kael burst into the room, immediately accusing me: “Alicia! Why did you bribe a nurse to poison Talia’s medication?!” I was baffled. “What?” “Talia said! You hate that I forced you to save her, so you bribed a nurse to add poison to her medicine, causing her to have a severe toxic reaction. She just barely survived the emergency room!” His tone was stern, filled with unquestionable accusation. “I didn’t!” Finally unable to take it anymore, I sat up abruptly, tears streaming down my face as I screamed: “Kael! I’ve had enough! Really had enough! You always only believe her! Always favor her! I was nearly killed by her! I’m covered in injuries!” “And you?! Besides forcing me to sign settlements, forcing me to donate blood, forcing me toward death, what have you ever done for me?!” “Your love makes me sick! Absolutely sick!” Kael froze. The door opened, and Talia leaned against the frame, her voice tearful: “Kael, you promised me! You said you’d hand her over to me for three days!” Kael looked at the weak Talia, intense struggle flashing in his eyes, but ultimately he agreed. “These three days, you cannot endanger Alicia’s life. That’s the bottom line!” “Don’t worry, I just want to teach her a lesson. I won’t kill her.” Talia immediately promised. I looked at him in disbelief. Kael was actually voluntarily handing me over to be tortured, just to appease Talia?! “Kael! You dare!!” I tried to get out of bed in terror. Talia waved her hand, and two burly men in work clothes entered, unceremoniously dragging my weakened body from the hospital bed. “Kael! Save me! No! I don’t want to go!” I cried out desperately, reaching toward him. But he just clenched his fists, stood in place, closed his eyes, and remained unmoved. For the next three days, I was held by Talia in a remote abandoned factory. She used every method to torture me. Whipping, sleep deprivation, forcing me to consume vomit—she exhausted every means to humiliate my body and dignity. Not until I was tortured to the brink of death did she stop and have someone dump me like garbage back at the emergency room. I don’t know how long I was unconscious. When I woke up, the doctor breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake! We almost lost you! You need to notify your family to come.” He returned my phone. As soon as the screen lit up, I saw an encrypted message from Luna Raven: “The divorce is finalized. Leave Kael quickly.” Thinking of Kael’s obsessive personality, I dialed Luna Raven’s private number and pleaded hoarsely, “Please help me forge a death certificate and use an unclaimed female corpse to replace me.” “If I suddenly disappear, Kael will definitely use every resource to search the world for me. Rather than endless entanglement, better to let him think I’m dead—a clean break. Also, I need you to find me a witch. I need to sever the mate bond with Kael.” Raven was silent for a moment, then finally relented. “Follow my people. I’ll handle the rest.” Under Raven’s arrangement, I left through the back door and headed straight to the airport. Meanwhile, Kael stared at his watch. The moment the three days were up, he immediately called Talia, his tone urgent: “Three days are up! Where’s Alicia? I warned you—no fatalities!” Talia’s voice was aggrieved. “You miss her that much? Don’t worry, I sent her back to the hospital.” Kael immediately drove over. Just as he reached the operating room door, the light went out. The doctor removed his mask and shook his head heavily. “Sir, I’m sorry for your loss. The patient was tortured beyond recognition, injuries too severe. We did everything we could.” Then a gurney covered with a white sheet was wheeled out. Boom—! Kael felt a roaring in his ears, his mind instantly blank. He violently pulled back a corner of the white sheet. “No—!!!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “382547”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Before my wedding to Alpha Liam, he slept with another woman. He explained to me, “She’s the mate the Moon Goddess destined for me. She has an irresistible pull on me. You understand, don’t you?” “Don’t make a fuss. At least you’re the only one I’m willing to Mark.” I smiled and nodded, then turned around and slept with his friend Chase, deliberately letting him find out. But Liam just calmly pushed open the door and sat down beside us, asking mockingly, “How does it feel?” Chase got off me. “Not bad, just a bit awkward.” “Liam, have you never trained her? Her movements are way too stiff.” My carefully planned revenge was nothing but a joke to him. He didn’t care at all. I completely broke down and was sent by Liam to a correctional facility on a deserted island to learn how to become “normal.” He didn’t know that there were no doctors there—only a group of lunatics who took pleasure in tormenting Omegas. A year later, Liam came to pick me up, but by then, I no longer loved him. The facility administrator pushed the door open. “Ellie, Alpha Liam has completed your discharge paperwork. You’re free to go.” I nodded numbly. As I walked out of that gray building, I could still hear the whispers of a few staff members behind me. “Poor thing, driven to this state by her fiancé.” “What’s so pitiful about it? Her fiancé is a top-tier Alpha—handsome and rich. He just has a mistress. She should’ve just turned a blind eye. She really doesn’t know how to appreciate what she has.” A year ago, words like these would have made me hysterical. But now, they couldn’t even make me pause. Outside in the clearing, Liam stood waiting for me beside a helicopter. I walked up to him. He raised his index finger, wanting to touch my face. “You’ve gotten thinner.” I tilted my head slightly, dodging him. His hand froze in midair for a moment before he withdrew it. He pulled open the cabin door. “Get in.” Climbing into the helicopter, the first thing I saw was a piece of exquisitely crafted women’s lingerie on the seat. Liam followed my gaze, froze for a moment when he saw the lingerie, then picked it up and casually stuffed it into his coat pocket. “My assistant is so scatterbrained. Don’t mind it.” I smiled but didn’t reply. That lingerie style was typical of that woman named Serena’s taste. It seemed that before coming to pick me up, they’d done something in this helicopter. But it didn’t matter. I stopped caring long ago. As the helicopter took off, Liam’s fingertips tapped lightly on the armrest a few times before he spoke. “I’ve cut things off with her completely. I threw out all the bedding in the bedroom and replaced it with a new set—the style you like.” “Mm.” I responded lightly. He continued, “I had the maids dust all your things every day. Nothing’s gotten dirty.” “Thank you.” I smiled faintly. Liam turned his head to look at me, something dark and unclear flickering in his eyes. He pulled out a small red velvet box from his pocket. “I had the ring reordered. The diamond’s bigger than before. Want to see if you like it?” I didn’t take the box. Instead, I said, “About the wedding—let’s forget it.” Liam didn’t take my words seriously and just tossed the box into my lap. “Enough with the tantrum. I slept with her, and you slept with my friend. We’re even now.” “Besides, I’ve kept the position of my wife for you all along. You’re a werewolf who can’t even shift, yet you get to become the Luna of Shadow Fang Pack. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?” I stared at the small box in my hands, didn’t argue, just smiled bitterly. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was just going home. It wasn’t as prosperous as this place—just the old territory of a fallen Pack, where my mom and dad were buried. But there was no Liam there. No pain. The helicopter landed on the rooftop helipad. Everything here remained unchanged. I didn’t walk into the bedroom that belonged to me and him. Instead, I dragged my suitcase toward the guest room. Liam blocked my way. “What’s the meaning of this?” “I got used to sleeping alone at the facility.” I turned to glance at the room that once belonged to me and him. “And besides, I don’t want to sleep in that bed anymore.” On the day I discovered he’d slept with that woman, I checked the surveillance footage and found out it wasn’t just once. He’d once promised me he would never accept the mate fate assigned him, that he would only ever love me. Yet after rejecting Serena in front of me, he secretly installed her in the villa. He slept with her almost every month. Even that bed specially customized for me bore traces of them. When I saw that scene, my heart ached so much I couldn’t breathe. Liam stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t overdo it. You always pull this stunt, then end up begging to move back in anyway.” I watched his retreating back, but the heartache I used to feel didn’t come. It seemed the “correction” at the facility really worked. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have my heart beat for him, to have my emotions rise and fall with his. Late at night, accustomed to the hard plank bed at the facility, I couldn’t get used to sleeping on this soft, plush bed anymore. During the year I spent at the facility, Liam didn’t come to see me even once. I would always cry and beg the administrators, threatening to hurt myself to make them let me call him. Once, twice, three times… When the call connected, I would cry and beg him to come see me, or at least say a few words to me. And he would only respond in that icy voice devoid of any emotion: “Ellie, reflect on yourself properly. When the time comes, I’ll naturally come get you.” Gradually, I grew numb and finally stopped wanting to call him.

Feeling thirsty, I got up and went downstairs to get water. But I saw Liam on the balcony, talking on the phone. His voice wasn’t loud, but I could hear clearly. “Mm, tomorrow’s auction—bid on whatever you want, don’t worry about the price. Be good. I’ve been a bit busy lately, so I can’t always be with you.” His tone was doting. That tone used to belong only to me, but not anymore. I stood quietly behind him with my water glass, listening for a while. Finding it uninteresting, I turned to leave. But then I heard, “Ellie? When did you come down?” He’d already hung up the phone. “Just now…” He wanted to explain, but I cut him off. “I was thirsty, just came down for water. Continue what you were doing, don’t mind me.” He walked toward me, reaching out to grab me. But I’d already turned and headed upstairs ahead of him. At the staircase landing, I saw from the corner of my eye that his gaze followed me the entire time. The next day at breakfast, Liam poured me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. This was his habit. Every time, I would drink the entire glass, and he would watch me with a gentle smile. But this time, I didn’t touch the orange juice. Instead, I poured myself a glass of warm water. His smile froze on his face, but he said nothing. Liam got up, grabbed his coat, and headed out. “I need to go out for a bit.” “Okay,” I replied. He stopped at the door and looked at me. “Nothing you want to ask?” I paused for a moment. Indeed, if this were before, I definitely would have interrogated him thoroughly. Asked him what he was doing, how long he’d be gone, who he was with. I didn’t know when it started—when I became so insecure, so afraid of him leaving me. Fortunately, not anymore. I spoke, my tone flat. “No.” Liam stood there for a few seconds but ultimately said nothing. After he left, I got up and went to my room to pack. Actually, there wasn’t much to bring. The clothes I wore at the facility—I didn’t want to take them. Seeing them would only remind me of those painful memories. I put the photo of me with my mom and dad into my suitcase. And a hardcover notebook—the “reflection journal” I was required to write at the facility. I flipped through it. Each page was only allowed one sentence. [Called him again today. 180th time. He only said to reflect.] [Today’s “correction” really hurt.] [I miss Mom and Dad so much. No one loves me anymore. Now even he’s bullying me.] [It’s my birthday today. No one remembers.] [Haven’t thought about him for three days now. The administrator says I’m almost normal.] I closed the notebook and tossed it into the trash. Liam returned quickly and wanted to take me to a party. I was brought to a makeup room upstairs at the venue to touch up my makeup. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear him talking with friends in the hallway outside. “Liam, how are things with her?” It was Chase’s voice. Liam’s voice was calm. “Fine.” “She seems much more obedient now—just sits there quietly. When she saw me, she didn’t even react. I thought she was going to go crazy again.” Chase continued, “But seriously, hasn’t Serena been getting a bit too showy lately? She bid on a sky-high diamond ring at the auction today without batting an eye. That’s one thing, but she’s been going around telling everyone you gave it to her.”

Liam’s voice came through. “As long as she’s happy.” “Aren’t you afraid Ellie will find out? She finally got back to normal. Don’t let her turn crazy again and start cutting herself with knives and stuff.” Liam replied, “If she finds out, she finds out. She’ll throw a tantrum for a while, then behave. Same routine every time. Doesn’t she get tired of it?” Casual. Matter-of-fact. “Honestly, Ellie’s so much easier on the eyes now that she’s not making a scene. Liam, after bringing her back, did you ‘train’ her?” “Enough.” Liam’s voice turned cold. The hallway fell silent. I sat before the makeup mirror, letting the makeup artist do her work, my heart calm. After finishing my makeup, I went downstairs. Chase approached first, walking up beside me and looking me over with a smirk. “Ellie, you’re looking much better. If you have any ‘needs,’ you can still come find me, you know.” I didn’t respond. He sat down on the armrest of the sofa next to me. “Honestly, I still remember that night last year.” “Looking at you now, you’ve lost so much weight. I wonder if you still feel the same as you did back then.” I remained expressionless. He sneered. “No wonder Liam got tired of you. That cold face, like a wooden plank—no fun at all.” Finally, Liam walked over and looked at me. “Stay with me. You’re my fiancée. Understand?” “What time does this end?” I asked him. He seemed puzzled, as if unsure why I was asking, but answered anyway. “Eleven.” My flight was at midnight. So I nodded, agreeing. Chase’s face showed an amused smile. At the party, Liam took me around to socialize, introducing me to others. Actually, he didn’t need to introduce me. That scandal from years ago had caused such an uproar that everyone remembered I was once a lunatic who slept with her fiancé’s friend. Then I’d gone crazy, cutting myself with a knife, forcing Liam to send his mistress away. Finally, I was sent by Liam himself to the island correctional facility. Those people put on smiling faces for Liam, but when they looked at me, their eyes held something else—like pity. I smiled politely, not caring. “Liam.” Serena’s saccharine voice rang out. She walked naturally to Liam’s side and linked her arm through his. “Thank you.” As she spoke, she deliberately raised her hand to brush back her hair. The enormous, blindingly brilliant diamond ring on her finger drew even more attention. Liam’s expression remained unchanged. He even smiled gently at her. “As long as you like it.” As if I didn’t exist at all. I felt a bit nauseous, so I withdrew the hand that had been linked through Liam’s arm. “I’m going to the restroom.” Liam whispered in my ear, “If you really want to make a scene, wait until we get home. Don’t do it at this kind of event. Understand? Come back quickly.” I hummed in acknowledgment, then went to the restroom and threw up. I vomited until I was dizzy. In my daze, I remembered the times at the facility when the administrators would force my mouth open and make me swallow pills to “calm me down.” Fortunately, I wouldn’t be “disobedient” anymore, and I wouldn’t be force-fed pills again. I walked out of the restroom. Passing by a terrace, I saw Chase smoking. Seeing me, he started talking. Chase blew out a smoke ring. “Are you just putting on a brave front? Jealous again, aren’t you?” “That Serena really is something, deliberately wearing that ring out to show off. She’ll be thrilled if she drives you ‘crazy’ again later.”

I walked straight past him without replying. I returned to Liam’s side. Liam looked down at me, satisfaction in his eyes. He smelled of Serena’s perfume, and there was a trace of her lipstick on his neck. No need to guess what they’d done while I was gone. But none of it mattered anymore. I glanced at my phone. Half an hour until ten o’clock. Liam leaned down and whispered in my ear, “About the wedding—we’ll hold it next month. I’ve looked at a few venues. Tonight when we get back, I’ll have Beta Jordan send you the information so you can choose.” I looked at him. “I already told you—forget about the wedding.” His voice carried a warning. “There’s a limit to throwing tantrums. I’ve told you, I’ll only marry you. What more do you want from me? Do you want me to beg you?” He was getting impatient, mistaking my indifference for another tantrum. “I don’t want anything from you,” I said. “I’m just not marrying you anymore.” “Enough.” His voice turned cold. “Do I need to send you back to the island before you’ll wake up? Don’t be ungrateful.” I took a deep breath. “You still think I’m throwing a tantrum, don’t you?” “What else would it be?” He let out a cold laugh. “Isn’t it all because of Serena? Getting mad at me—how many times has this been now?” I wanted to say that I really didn’t care anymore. But before I could speak, Serena walked over again, holding a glass of red wine. She walked quickly. As she approached us, she suddenly exclaimed “Oh my!” and the entire glass of wine spilled precisely onto the front of my light-colored dress. “Oh my God! Ellie, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Look at me, so clumsy…” She apologized loudly, but her voice held no real sincerity. Instead, she successfully drew everyone’s attention. Liam frowned but first comforted the supposedly startled Serena. Then he looked at me, soaked and frozen in place, his gaze cold, his tone clearly displeased. “What are you standing there for? Don’t embarrass yourself here. Go take care of it yourself.” With that, he put his arm around Serena’s shoulder and turned toward the lounge. Chase’s gaze landed on me like a spotlight, full of amusement and anticipation of a good show. If this were the old me, I would’ve already lost it and started attacking people. But now, I simply said calmly to the nearest server, “Could you take me to the changing room, please?” Chase clapped his hands and approached, looking me up and down. “Damn, Ellie, which facility did you go to that’s so effective? You can endure being treated like this?” “Are you really changed, or are you planning an even bigger counterattack?” “I have to say, this version of you is way more pleasant than when you used to throw tantrums. Liam might actually go for this. Very clever tactics.” I ignored them and simply followed the server outside. Behind me, Chase’s voice rang out. “You’re really just going to change clothes? Not waiting for Liam to come back and coax you?” I didn’t pause or look back. I didn’t go to the changing room. Instead, I went straight to the entrance and said to the doorman, “Could you call me a car, please?” I went back to the villa first to get my already-prepared small suitcase, then headed to the airport. I boarded the plane and put my phone on airplane mode. I slept for what felt like a long time. When I woke up, I’d landed. I turned off airplane mode. Almost instantly, my phone began vibrating violently.

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I bought a secondhand laptop online. When I opened it, the wallpaper was a full nude photo of my fiancé, Lachlan. I was stunned. Was this fate bringing something that belonged to him back to me? Just as I was about to call Lachlan to ask what was going on, the seller frantically started calling me: “I made a mistake! I sent you my boyfriend’s laptop by mistake!” “There are really important work files on that computer—don’t touch anything! I’ll send you the correct laptop right away. I’ll cover the shipping!” Listening to the sweet, delicate voice on the other end of the line, my heart instantly sank. When did Lachlan get another girlfriend besides me? After hanging up, I forced myself to calm down, my fingers trembling as I moved the mouse. Apart from that wallpaper, the desktop was suspiciously clean—just one folder labeled “My Treasure.” Lachlan had once created a folder with that exact name for me, filled with photos of us from childhood to now. My heart pounded wildly as an absurd thought exploded in my mind. Was Lachlan cheating on me? The thought only lingered for a second before I crushed it. Because I knew perfectly well that even if every man in the world cheated, Lachlan would be the exception. After all, we were childhood sweethearts who grew up together in the same neighborhood, watched over by everyone. He loved me—loved me enough to remember my period every month and have hot milk ready in advance. Loved me enough that the passwords to his phone, computer, and all his social media accounts were my birthday. Besides, our wedding was only two weeks away. This had to be a misunderstanding. I took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the inexplicable panic rising in my chest. Double-click. The folder opened. What appeared before my eyes were intimate photos of Lachlan with an unfamiliar girl. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly, like lightning striking me, the shock making every organ in my body ache. I looked through them one by one. Every single photo mocked my self-deception. Lachlan really was cheating. And I had been lost in the joy of soon becoming his bride. How ridiculous. I don’t know how long I sat there in a daze before I finally calmed down. The first thing I did was open my phone and book a flight to Paris in seven days. That was the dream destination I had once given up to be with Lachlan. Now, I was going to pick up my paintbrush again and pursue the artistic dream that had been shelved by love for too long. Next, I packaged all those disgraceful photos from the computer and sent them to my best friend, Zoey. Zoey’s call came through immediately, her voice full of shock and fury: “Harper! That bastard! Just wait—I’m getting people together right now to destroy him!” I interrupted her, my voice terrifyingly calm: “No need. Saturday, at our families’ engagement party, I’ll handle it myself. I need your help with something. I’m going to give Lachlan a big gift.” Just as I finished speaking, Lachlan’s voice suddenly sounded behind me, his tone light and tender: “Harper, guess what I brought you?” He was carrying cream puffs from my favorite shop. When he saw my face, the smile on his face instantly froze. “Harper? What’s wrong? Why are your eyes so red?” He dropped the bags and quickly walked over, reaching out to hug me. I instinctively dodged. I opened my mouth, my voice sounding dry and unlike my own: “Lachlan, you…” Just as I was about to tear away this layer of false warmth, his phone rang abruptly. Lachlan instinctively glanced at the caller ID, and his expression changed instantly. He quickly pressed silent and flipped the phone face-down on the table, his movements so fast it seemed like he was hiding something. “A… telemarketer,” he explained, his tone somewhat unnatural. But I had seen it. The moment the screen lit up, the caller ID showed “Quinn.” Watching him panic while trying to maintain composure, I found it unbearably ironic. I looked up at him and asked softly, “Lachlan, do you love me?” He looked stunned by my question, then laughed and affectionately tapped my nose. “Silly girl, why ask that? If I don’t love you, who would I love?” I stared into his eyes, asking word by word: “What about Tara Quinn? Do you love her too?” Tara Quinn—that was the seller’s name.

The doting smile on Lachlan’s face crumbled inch by inch. He stared at me blankly. After a few seconds, he finally found his voice, tinged with disbelief. “Harper, what are you talking about? Where did you hear that name?” Within just one second, that familiar face had taken on an expression of hurt and helplessness. He reached out to touch my face, his voice low and aggrieved: “Harper, Tara Quinn is a new intern in my department. There was a problem with a project today, and I just helped her out.” The wounded look of being falsely accused was perfectly calibrated. If I hadn’t seen those photos with my own eyes, I would have thought I was being unreasonable. He tried to pull me into his arms, his voice softening even more, as if coaxing a child throwing a tantrum. “Is the wedding stress getting to you?” “Don’t overthink it. After fifteen years together, don’t you trust me?” I looked at his face, so close to mine, yet instinctively pushed him away. This action made the hurt in his eyes deepen. His voice carried a barely perceptible tremor: “Harper, what’s wrong with you? Did someone say something to you?” Just as I was about to pull out that laptop and throw all the sordid evidence in his face, his phone—still face-down on the table—vibrated again. This time it wasn’t a call, but a message. He instinctively reached for it, but I was faster, catching a glimpse of the calendar reminder that popped up on the screen. [Today at 5 PM: Pick up Devotion.] My heart clenched suddenly. Devotion was the name of the first painting I’d ever sold. That year, when I had just started college, my work was hung in the school gallery with no buyers. Finally, a mysterious buyer purchased it. Much later, I learned that buyer was Lachlan. He hung the painting in our future marital home, pointing at my messy signature on it and saying: “For the rest of my life, I’ll marry no one but you.” That painting was the beginning of our love, the unique, devoted love he promised me. Seeing that I’d noticed the reminder, a flash of annoyance crossed Lachlan’s face, which then softened into helpless tenderness. He handed me his phone and opened the note for that reminder. It read: Harper’s wedding ring—inspired by the painting, named with love. He sighed and gently hugged me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “I wanted to surprise you the day before the wedding, but you discovered it early.” “I found a designer in France and had the compositional elements of Devotion made into a ring. Harper, our rings are one-of-a-kind in the whole world.” His voice carried a smile, warm breath falling on my ear. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay? I admit, that Tara Quinn pestered me with some talk, but I rejected her.” “In my world, besides you, there’s no room for anyone else.” He paused and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going out to pick up the ring. It’s too cold outside—stay home and wait for me. I’ll be back soon to keep you company.” I pulled my hand back, my voice eerily calm: “Go ahead.” As soon as Lachlan left, I grabbed my phone to check the transaction records on the secondhand platform. The seller’s name was Tara Quinn, and the address was a high-end apartment complex in the western part of the city. Once, Lachlan had pointed at a billboard for that place and said to me: “Harper, I bought you a small place there. You can paint there in peace from now on!” I had been so happy then, thinking it was another testament to our love. Now, it had become the cruelest irony. I opened a rideshare app and entered the address. Half an hour later, the car stopped at the entrance to the complex. I immediately spotted Lachlan’s familiar black Range Rover. I didn’t go in, just stood in the shadows across the street. Before long, the building door opened. Lachlan walked out with a petite figure. I recognized her immediately as the girl from the photos—Tara Quinn. Tara clung intimately to his arm, practically hanging on him. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. And Lachlan looked down at her with a hint of indulgent affection at the corner of his mouth—the same way he’d looked at me for the past fifteen years. My hands and feet went ice cold, yet I instinctively raised my phone’s camera and pointed it at them.

My stomach churned violently, worse than when I’d first seen those photos. Tara tilted her face up, seeking a kiss. Lachlan didn’t push her away—he just smiled helplessly and tapped her forehead with his finger. “Stop it. What if someone sees?” Tara shook his arm insistently, her voice coquettish: “So what if they see? Your fiancée loves you so much that even if she found out, she’d just assume I seduced you.” Lachlan’s face hardened, his voice cold with warning: “I told you clearly before we got together—I have my responsibilities and my boundaries. Harper is the person I’m going to marry. That will never change.” Tara pouted and pulled an exquisite velvet box from her purse, holding it out to Lachlan. “Okay, okay, don’t be mad. I promise I won’t make a scene in front of her. Look what I got you!” “Can we call our rings Devotion too?” Lachlan’s expression stiffened for a moment. He looked at Tara, and finally smiled: “You little vixen.” I watched him accept that ring and slide it onto his ring finger. The design of that ring was seventy to eighty percent similar to the wedding ring he’d just described to me—the one supposedly inspired by my painting. The last trace of warmth I’d felt for these fifteen years completely dissipated. I recorded this final scene, put away my phone, turned around, and hailed a cab. Back home, I didn’t turn on the lights. In the darkness, I sat on the sofa, replaying that video over and over. Watching the hesitation that flashed across Lachlan’s face when he put on that ring, followed by his eventual surrender. None of it was an accident. That laptop, that wallpaper—all of it was a trap Tara had carefully designed. Just waiting for me, the legitimate fiancée, to personally uncover my husband’s other face. She’d succeeded. My world, along with those fifteen years of love, shattered completely. After sending this video to Zoey as well, I acted as if nothing had happened, quietly waiting for the day of the engagement party. Lachlan was probably feeling guilty—he became even more attentive and considerate toward me. The more he acted this way, the more disgusted I felt. The night before the engagement party, Lachlan excitedly brought over an exquisite gift box, his face wearing a tender smile. “Harper, come quick! Look at the dress I had custom-made for you. You’ll look absolutely beautiful wearing it at tomorrow’s engagement.” He opened the box like presenting a treasure. Inside was a champagne-colored mermaid gown. The hem was studded with tiny crystals that sparkled gently under the light. Then he knelt on one knee and opened a velvet box. Inside lay a diamond ring with an intricate design. The lines winding around the band were the composition from my painting Devotion. He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with love: “Harper, this is our Devotion. It will be like my love for you—eternal and unchanging.” “After tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. Harper, I’ve waited so long for this day.” His voice carried a barely perceptible nervousness, his fingertips trembling slightly. I looked at myself reflected in his eyes—the girl who had once been full of joy and hope for the future now felt only a barren coldness. I didn’t extend my hand. I just quietly watched him, watched the anticipation in his eyes gradually freeze and finally turn into unease. He asked tentatively, “Harper? Don’t you like it?” I slowly shook my head, my voice flat: “I like it. It’s beautiful.” He visibly relaxed and tried to take my hand to put the ring on me. But I gently moved away, taking the ring box from his hand. Looking at those winding lines, I suddenly smiled. “What if tomorrow… I ran away from the wedding? What would you do?”

“What are you talking about, silly?” Lachlan laughed and ruffled my hair: “If you ran, I’d turn the whole earth upside down to find you and lock you by my side.” I lowered my eyelids, hiding the mockery in my eyes: “Lachlan, if… if I did something to hurt you, would you forgive me?” The smile faded from Lachlan’s face. He cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes, his expression frighteningly serious. “Don’t say things like that.” His thumb caressed my cheek, his voice low: “Harper, between us, there’s no ‘hurting’ and no ‘forgiving.’” “You would never do anything to hurt me, just like I would never betray you.” He said it with such certainty, such apparent sincerity. I almost laughed out loud. Was this certainty based on his trust in me, or his confidence in his own acting skills? I said nothing more, letting him hold me in his arms, feeling that false yet familiar warmth. On the day of the engagement, before leaving, I took out my phone and sent Zoey a final message: “Proceed as planned.” The banquet hall was lively and warm. Both our parents and several close elders were there. Lachlan’s mother held my hand, beaming: “Harper is getting more beautiful every day. Our Lachlan marrying you is a blessing from eight lifetimes of good karma.” I smiled, playing the role of a bride-to-be immersed in happiness. Lachlan sat beside me, considerately serving me food, occasionally whispering sweet nothings in my ear. We looked so intimate that everyone envied us. Halfway through the dinner, Lachlan’s father cleared his throat and stood up, preparing to announce our official wedding date. Just as everyone’s attention focused on him, Lachlan’s phone vibrated. He picked it up, glanced at it, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Then he gave me a reassuring smile and lowered his voice: “Something urgent at the office. I’ll step out to take this call. Be right back.” He got up and hurried out. The moment the private room door closed, I stood up. Under everyone’s bewildered gazes, I walked to the front of the room and connected my phone to the huge screen that had been prepared to show our sweet memories. Zoey’s carefully edited video began to play. The entire room fell deathly silent. I heard Lachlan’s mother gasp, saw the shock drain all color from my parents’ faces. I picked up the microphone, my voice ringing clearly through the room: “I’m sorry, everyone. This engagement party is canceled.” With that, I put down the microphone and, under everyone’s stares, turned and walked out of that suffocating banquet hall. Lachlan was leaning against the window at the end of the corridor, softly coaxing Tara on the phone. “Okay, okay, it’s just a stomachache. As soon as the engagement party ends, I’ll come keep you company. Don’t cry, my baby.” Before he could hang up, a resounding slap landed hard across his face. Lachlan was stunned. He covered his face, looking up in disbelief. The next second, his father pointed at him, trembling with rage: “You disgraceful bastard! Get in there right now and see what you’ve done!”

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I’ve read countless stories about cheating husbands eventually crawling back, begging for forgiveness. I never thought I’d end up starring in one. Except, my story didn’t have the part where he begs. Just the part where everything burns. Because I actually died. I became a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after I passed, it was like a delayed reaction finally crushed him. Inside the house I could never go back to, he howled and wept, utterly broken. You ask me how that felt? I just stood there, blankly, savoring every inch of agony on his face. I listened intently to his desperate desolation over my departure. Beneath the grim satisfaction and the heartbreak, a massive wave of schadenfreude surged within me. Joyful, ecstatic vindication. It was a sharp, liberating thrill. I covered my mouth to stifled a laugh. 1 After dying, I became entirely certain that Julian had never truly loved me. When the police called him to identify my body at the morgue, he actually thought I was pulling a sick prank with my friends. He thought it was my desperate way of forcing him to talk. Because just minutes before, our final conversation had ended in disaster. I had screamed, I had raged, I had begged on my knees, and I had used the foulest language I knew to curse him. By the end, we were both drained. With bloodshot eyes, I sat on the balcony railing, my legs dangling over the edge. “Are you really going through with this divorce?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He looked at me calmly. The first time I used suicide to threaten him, he had panicked. Now, his face held nothing but exhaustion. “Are you done with the drama?” he asked. I said quietly, “If you walk out that door today, I’m jumping.” He gave me one long, deep look, turned, and walked away. The front door slammed with a deafening thud, shaking the apartment. Then, I heard the chime of the elevator. I had staged many suicides. The first time was three months after he initially asked for a divorce. It was our third wedding anniversary, which also happened to be his mistress’s birthday. He wouldn’t answer my calls. Finally, I sent him a photo of an empty bottle of sleeping pills and turned off my phone. He rushed back, looking frantic and disheveled. When he pushed the door open, I was sitting at the dining table in the dark. A lavish feast was laid out, a huge bouquet of roses between two flickering candles. I smiled at him across the table. “Happy anniversary, Julian.” He was livid. He screamed that I was insane. He grabbed my arm, dragged me into the bathroom, and pinned me down, brutally ramming a toothbrush down my throat to make me purge. I huddled over the sink, retching, while he kept cursing at me. “Where are the pills? How many did you take?” I was a mess, but I started laughing. My voice was raw and raspy. “I lied,” I told him, looking up through my hair. “I didn’t take anything.” I grabbed his sleeve, gripping it tightly. “Happy anniversary. I bought you a gift. Don’t you want to see what it is?” He looked down at me, his expression unreadable. Finally, looking utterly depleted, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t love you anymore, Sarah. Can’t we just let each other go?” Why should it be that easy? We met in college. Fell in love. A seven-year romantic marathon, followed by three years of marriage. All my youth, all my love, was invested in this man. Now he tells me to “let go”? Over my dead body. I was going to waste his life. I wanted that woman on the outside to remain a mistress, illegitimate and shameful, for the rest of her life. So I looked at him tenderly and said the cruelest thing I could think of. “Let you go? In your dreams.” He stared at me, unblinking. After that night, I could never track him down again. 2 Calls and texts went unanswered, lost in a sea of silence. I talked to his subordinates, but they were a brick wall, smooth and impenetrable. I even went to his office. The receptionist looked at me with an awkward, sympathetic expression, blocking my path. “Mr. Hayes isn’t in,” she said. I really wanted to force my way in. But I didn’t want to make a scene. I had some dignity left. So, I forced a smile, pretending to be unbothered. “When he gets back, just let him know I stopped by.” She relaxed visibly, looking relieved, though she couldn’t hide the pity in her eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Hayes. Will do.” I pretended not to see his silhouette behind the glass wall of his corner office. That night, I went home and drank a bottle of bourbon. I sipped it slowly, sitting on the balcony, watching the sunset bleed orange across the skyline. My mind drifted back to college. We were lab partners junior year. My grades were good, but I was failing statistics. Our advisor suggested he tutor me. I don’t remember much about junior year, except for that humid summer. The slow whir of the ceiling fans in the library. The smelling of old books. And Julian’s fingers, constantly spinning a black pen. I remember late-night study sessions, him leaning in slightly, his warm breath fanning my cheek. His hand, with its defined knuckles, pressed down on the textbook. His voice was low, creating a tender illusion. “Which problem are you stuck on now?” It was an innocent, naive fluttering of the heart, drowned out by months of studying for exams. Actually, Julian and I started dating senior year. Getting into the same law school gave us a sense of camaraderie. He took care of me. During orientation week, I joined the Student Bar Association. The chair of the social committee was always being inappropriate with me, touching me, getting in my space. One night, after a bar crawl, I wanted to go back to my dorm. He insisted on walking me. In a dark alleyway off campus, he suddenly pinned me against a brick wall, pinning my shoulders with his hands. He was slurring, rambling about how I had to be his girlfriend, trying to force a kiss on me. I panicked, screaming for help. The next second, he was ripped off me. Julian was there, swinging his gym bag. He beat the guy up badly. He didn’t seem to care if he killed him. Every punch was vicious. I tried to pull him off, screaming his name, but it was useless. Finally, standing behind him, frantic and not knowing what else to do, I yelled, “Julian, stop! I’m going to cry!” His eyes were red, but he stopped. He turned to look at me, his handsome face tense with lingering rage. The moment he saw me, his expression softened instantly. “Don’t cry,” he cooed. He stood up, walked over, and clumsily used the jacket from his bag to wipe the tears from my face. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He looked at me, looking a little frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry. I just… I’ve had a crush on you for so long, and I never dared to touch you. Now this total asshole tries to force himself on you… Did I scare you? I’m sorry.” He looked down at me, his gaze earnest, his expression tender. “I didn’t want to scare you. I wanted to wait until the time was right. Sarah, I like you. Do you like me?” The memories were so vivid, like they happened yesterday. The young man who had nervously asked me that question had turned into a stranger. Now, he only said things like: “Are you done annoying me? Can you just not, for five minutes?” “Stop calling me.” “I’m not at the office, stop looking for me.” “Please, let’s just end this cleanly. Let me go, okay?” Tears streamed down my face. I finished the bottle of bourbon. This was my second suicide attempt. 3 I woke up in the hospital. My best friend, Chloe, was by my bedside, watching the IV drip. When she saw me open my eyes, she burst into tears, hitting my shoulder, asking me why I did something so stupid. I had just had my stomach pumped. I was incredibly weak, and my throat was too raw to make a sound. I scanned the room. Then I turned my head, stubbornly looking at Chloe, silently asking with my eyes. Where is he? She understood. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She grabbed my hand, sobbing like a child, trying to comfort me. “Sarah, honey, can we just not force this? I called Julian. He didn’t come. Don’t you get it yet? Forget him. He’s not worth your life…” I closed my eyes. A single tear slid down my cheek. Julian hated being threatened. Senior year of college, we had been together for three years. There was a girl who really liked him, but he always coldly rejected her. Finally, her roommate told Julian that if he didn’t go see her, she was going to cut her wrists. Julian was with me at the movies. I still remember his expression when he got the call. He let out a cold laugh. “If she wants to cut her wrists, tell her to hurry up. Otherwise, if I go today, she won’t do it. But tomorrow, if I don’t go, she’ll threaten it again. Do I look like a charity?” He was holding my ice cream cone when he said that. It was winter, but I really wanted ice cream. He was worried I’d get too cold, but he couldn’t bear to say no. So he compromised: he bought it, but he insisted on holding it, only letting me have a few licks before pulling it away. It was strange. Cruelty and tenderness existed within him, side by side, without contradiction. Back then, I couldn’t let it go. I dragged him to the hospital to see that girl. He stood at the door of her room, frowning, looking annoyed. “I’m going to say this one last time,” he told her. “I love my girlfriend very much. Suicide threats don’t work on me. You can slice yourself into stir-fry for all I care. Don’t manipulate me with guilt, and don’t manipulate the people around me.” I was afraid my presence would upset her, so I stayed by the door. Through the window, I saw her lying in bed, tears streaming down her face as she listened to him. At the time, I was confused. Why would a woman want to die just because a man doesn’t love her? I didn’t understand. I always believed a woman should be an independent entity, with independent thoughts, not relying on someone else’s affection to exist. Why commit suicide over a man who doesn’t love you? Life is the most important thing. You should be resilient and dignified. Besides a man, you have family and friends who love you. You shouldn’t toy with your life. I told myself I would never do such a thing. But you don’t know how bad it hurts until the knife cuts your own skin. Many years later, that boomerang hit me. I became the woman using suicide to threaten Julian. And his attitude toward that threat hadn’t changed at all in all those years. 4 Honestly, I don’t know how Julian and I became what we are now. Before he confessed about the mistress, I hadn’t doubted him for a single second. We had too many years of history. I trusted him completely. I never checked his phones, his social media. When he traveled for work, came home late, or had business dinners, I never questioned him. Even when he first told me he had someone else and wanted a divorce, I thought something was wrong with him. Was he sick? Terminal cancer? Was the company bankrupt? IRS trouble? Had he broken the law? I spent two months systematically ruling things out. Only then did I have to accept the truth: he was just a regular guy who cheated. A guy who simply didn’t love me anymore. He just… wanted to leave me. After we initially confessed our feelings in college, he still pursued me for a long time. Even though we both knew I would say yes, when he finally formally asked me out, his voice was shaking. I rarely saw him anxious. But that young man, standing in front of me, trying so hard to be cool while asking me to be his girlfriend, his hands sweating with nerves—that Julian was the perfect image of love in my mind. When I blushed, smiled, and nodded, he lunged forward to hug me. He was so excited he was babbling. “This is great, Sarah. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this day.” He said it was love at first sight. He had waited three years to finally be with me. Back then, we were just broke students. He spent half his monthly allowance treating my entire dorm to dinner to celebrate. At the table, he draped his arm over the back of my chair, looking at me with total adoration, smiling non-stop. Finally, he solemnly asked my roommates to look out for me, because I was clumsy and he worried when he wasn’t around. My roommates giggled and agreed, their eyes full of envy and blessings. Everyone said we were a match made in heaven. We had walked together for so long. Now he tells me he loves someone else and wants a divorce. How could I be resilient? How could I be dignified? Using my life to threaten a man who doesn’t love me only makes him disgusted, but I had no other options. I was in absolute agony. I couldn’t sleep, day or night. I kept wondering what went wrong. I wasn’t ugly, I was educated, my body hadn’t fallen apart over the years. Men at the office still hit on me. I became mentally drained, weeping without realizing it. Julian and I had one calm conversation. I remember sitting at the dining table, trying my best to look composed. I had spent countless days and nights psyching myself up to say these words. “I don’t blame you, Julian,” I said. “I forgive you.” He just looked at me coldly. Very, very coldly. “Don’t you get it yet, Sarah? I don’t need your forgiveness. I love someone else. I want to take responsibility. The reason I’m telling you this is because I want a divorce so I can marry her. Whether you forgive me or not means absolutely nothing. Let’s divorce.” I screamed. I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and hurled it at him. I rarely lost control like that. My upbringing was strict; I was taught to be a lady, demure and polite. Since I was a child, the compliment I heard most was how sweet and gentle I was. But when a heart is cut over and over again with a blunt knife, any gentle, polite woman will turn hysterical and hideous. Julian would never understand why I was so crazy. In his mind, I had nothing to lose in the divorce. He readily admitted he was the at-fault party. He was giving me everything: the house, the cars, all the marital assets, except for his own newly formed company. We didn’t have kids. In his mind, he felt bad, but he had compensated me financially. It was a massive fortune. So why couldn’t I just be a good girl and let him go? Why did I have to cling on like this? I didn’t know either. Maybe because thirteen years is too long. From high school to now. He occupied over half my life. Our love was fused into every inch of my being, like a seed planted in my veins, rooted deep. Thirteen years—any seed would grow into a massive tree. I couldn’t just walk away smiling like everyone advised me to. That would require me to rip out those roots and branches, bit by bit, from my own body. But it was part of me now. Ripping it out would kill me. In the dark of night, I curled up in bed, hugging myself tightly. The pain was unbearable. Chloe tried to convince me to let go. She said Julian was a man who chased emotional highs. A hedonist. He had been with me for over a decade—for a man like him, that was his limit. He followed his desires. He wasn’t producing dopamine for our love anymore. He was bored. 5 But I couldn’t let go. This divorce drama dragged on so long that everyone around us was exhausted. Julian’s patience finally ran out. We were like two wild beasts tearing at each other, ripping all our beautiful memories to shreds. Even Chloe sighed, “How did you guys end up like this?” We were like bitter enemies with a blood feud. As if we had never shared a bed, never held each other close, never loved each other deeply and truly. We left no room for dignity. But now, I was really tired. Congratulations, Julian. You finally got your wish. Listening to the sound of the elevator doors closing outside, I planned my third and final suicide. I sat on the balcony, humming a tune to myself. “Goodbye to yesterday’s love, maybe I shouldn’t have cared so much. Now there’s no more obsession left in me. Fate has its own plans, why try to settle the score…” Then I closed my eyes and, with a smile, stepped off. Like I said, I timed it. By the time Julian walked out of the elevator, I should land right in front of him. From the 28th floor, my body would shatter, blood spattering everywhere. It would be a horrific death. A sight that would haunt a person for a lifetime. Before I fell, I kept my eyes locked stubbornly on the building entrance. Finally, I saw Julian walk out. His face was a mask of shock and terror. He froze, looking at me. His first instinct was to run over and try to catch me, but how could he? I held a tiny smile, gentle as I used to be, right until I hit the pavement with a sickening crash. Through the excruciating pain, I died with my eyes wide open, smiling fixedly at him. I wanted him to never forget me. I wanted him to be plagued by his conscience for the rest of his life. I wanted him to live with the overwhelming guilt of what he did to me. I wanted him to never, ever know a day of peace or happiness for the rest of his life. He destroyed me. So I destroyed him. Before Julian and I fell apart, I had done something that crossed a line for him. Before that, he had always maintained a subtle level of guilt toward me. About a month ago, I finally relented. I told Julian I agreed to the divorce. But I had one condition: I wanted to meet the other woman. Julian had protected her well, just like he protected me back in college. From the moment he brought up divorce until our six-month stalemate, I had no idea who she was. I told him I’d agree to the divorce, but I needed to see this girl. I wanted to know what my thirteen years of devotion had lost to. Julian was furious. He thought I was screwing with him. He looked at me in disbelief. “How can you be so manipulative?” He actually thought I was doing it maliciously. Because after meeting her, I changed my mind. By then, I didn’t want to explain anymore. It didn’t matter what he believed. Actually, I had planned to let go. I really had tried to convince myself to walk away. I wanted to end this undignified marriage that had become a laughingstock. I wanted to set myself free, and set him free. I intended to bless them. But when I met that girl, I changed my mind. She was the polar opposite of me. Lively. Very beautiful. When she looked up, her long eyelashes gave her the fragile, timid look of a startled deer. Seeing me, she was visibly nervous, apologizing over and over again, completely flustered. I sent Julian away. Then I leaned back in my chair and told her, “Convince me. You have the whole afternoon. Convince me to agree to the divorce.” Then, she proceeded to meticulously list all the details of her romance with Julian. She was a marketing coordinator at Julian’s new company. They met at a joint company happy hour. Later, they went to an escape room with a group. She was scared, screamed, and ran right into Julian’s arms. For the rest of the game, she didn’t dare leave his side. Finally, getting annoyed by her jumping every two seconds, Julian无奈ly let her hold onto the hem of his jacket until the game ended. Naturally, she offered to treat Julian to dinner to apologize. Over dinner, they discovered they had common interests. After that, they played a video game together online. She was actually good at games, and Julian admired that. Then there were many, many more details of their interactions. She told me about their internal conflict and guilt in the beginning. She told me about a time Julian was distant and cold toward her. She told me about the happiness of their first hand-hold, their first kiss, the first time they slept together. She told me that after they established their relationship, on a rainy afternoon, Julian lay on the couch, she curled up in his arms, Julian rested his chin on the top of her head, and they played a game together on their phones. She said a lot of things. Finally, with tears in her eyes, looking utterly pitiful, she said, “Sarah, I know I’ve done you wrong. But we truly love each other.” I covered my mouth, ran to the bathroom, and retched for a long time. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Gentle eyes, pale face, which made my dark pupils look even more hollow, tragic, and desperate. I was shaking all over. I had never felt so disgusted. Wave after wave of dizziness hit me. My mind was blank, my vision spinning. I almost couldn’t control my own body. But at that exact, inappropriate moment, I thought of when Julian and I got married.

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As an intern, I accidentally spilled a lunchbox because of the office “mean girl” (let’s call her a “green tea”). She demanded I clean it up, telling me that someone with my lack of money and background was only fit to be a janitor. I agreed with her. Then, right in front of her, I called the boss to inform him that the rent for the office space would be increasing by 20% next month. When I first started this internship, I didn’t even have time to be happy about running into an alum before she gave me a harsh lesson. On my very first day, she used her “senior intern” status to dump all her work on me. Ladies, is this even allowed? 1 In my senior year of college, I applied for an internship at a random company in my family’s office building just to get the required internship certificate. I never expected to run into an office “mean girl” on my very first day. I thought my first day would be filled with welcoming colleagues and friendly managers. At the very least, a regular employee should have shown me the ropes. Instead, what awaited me was a thick stack of bidding documents. The person handing them to me was Chloe, the “it girl” of our department at college. She seemed to have started her internship here before me. At this moment, she lifted her chin, her lips curling into a condescending smile. “Mia, these bidding documents need to be done before you leave today. Make sure you finish them.” I was stunned. Since when do interns have the authority to assign work to other interns? So, I went to the manager in charge of our department to ask about the feasibility of giving a brand-new intern such an urgent bidding document on her first day, and whether an intern even had the right to delegate tasks to another intern. I thought the manager would handle it reasonably. To my surprise, he barely glanced at me, looking annoyed. “If she asked you to do it, just do it. Interns need to prove themselves. Chloe is giving you an opportunity; you should be thanking her.” I was completely speechless. I even started wondering if this company was actually viable. Will they even be able to pay the rent next month? But right now, I wasn’t the landlord; I was an intern. I could only grit my teeth and leave the manager’s office. As I walked past Chloe’s desk, she was looking at me with a smug, gloating smile. I ignored her, hugged the documents, and hurried back to my desk to start working, terrified that if I was even a little slow, I wouldn’t finish by the end of the day. “Why bother fighting with her? She’s only been here a couple of weeks, and she’s been throwing her weight around the whole time. The General Manager is her uncle. She’s a nepo baby; we can’t afford to mess with her,” my colleague Jessica whispered, tugging at my sleeve. “We’re all just here to earn a paycheck. There’s no need to go up against management.” I paused for a second. That’s it? That’s what counts as “management”? I didn’t answer Jessica. I continued studying the bidding documents. Because it was my first time, there were many things I didn’t understand. Fortunately, when I asked my other colleagues, they patiently explained things to me. “Wow, aren’t you supposed to be top three in our major? You have the nerve to ask for help with such basic problems?” Chloe said sarcastically, filing her nails at her desk. I didn’t hold back either. “Well, I should thank you for giving me this ‘opportunity,’ right?” Chloe clearly hesitated for a moment but quickly regained her smug expression. “Then you better work hard.” I was so busy that day I didn’t even have time for lunch. I barely managed to finish the bidding documents before quitting time. But when I handed them to Chloe, she casually tossed them aside and said flatly, “Just leave them there. I’ll look at them tomorrow.” With that, she grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and sashayed out of the office. 2 “Just bear with it. Since she got here, she’s already pushed out three other interns,” Jessica sighed, standing behind me. “Did you see her outfit? That’s worth several months of our salary.” I watched Chloe’s slender figure disappear and then looked down at my own custom-tailored, logo-less clothes. I strongly disagreed with Jessica’s assessment. I expected Chloe to keep finding ways to make my life difficult in the following days. I even made up my mind that if she provoked me one more time, I would just throw my stuff down and quit. Surprisingly, she was very quiet over the next few days. Aside from occasionally making passive-aggressive comments about me being poor, she didn’t do much else. One afternoon, I ordered takeout with some colleagues. I have a pretty big appetite, and one portion of rice wasn’t enough. A few of the female colleagues who were dieting practically fought to give me the extra rice from their lunchboxes. I happily accepted, not wanting to waste food. “Lower-class people are really something else. Even for lunch, they have to scrounge for scraps from everyone else,” Chloe sneered as she opened her expensive bento box, looking at me like I was something disgusting. “Lower-class? What, does that make you upper-class?” I put down my chopsticks and retorted with a cold smile. “At least I’m higher class than someone who has to beg for food from others. You’re so young, yet you’re always trying to take advantage. Are you really that desperate for a bite of rice?” Chloe’s words were so harsh that the colleagues eating with us in the breakroom looked uncomfortable. Someone tried to stand up for me, but after a colleague tugged at their shirt, they stayed quiet. “It’s a blessing to be able to eat food shared by others. Some people couldn’t get it even if they wanted to. Would anyone even offer it to you?” I picked up a piece of radish, popped it into my mouth, and ate it with relish. I even hummed in satisfaction, praising how good the shared food tasted. “You’re acting like a beggar, and you’re proud of it,” Chloe sneered, her nose practically wrinkling in disgust. She threw down that harsh remark, picked up her food, and left. Because of Chloe’s blatant bullying, my colleagues started distancing themselves from me. Fewer and fewer people were willing to eat with me. Even Jessica, after Chloe dropped a vague hint—”Hanging out with someone as poor as Mia might ruin your career prospects”—stopped talking to me. But none of this bothered me much. I just wanted my internship certificate. I only needed to stick it out for a month to get it and leave this toxic environment, so I could endure it. I just didn’t expect her to go so far as to sabotage the company just to mess with me. When the results of the bidding came out, the General Manager called me and my department manager into his office. The General Manager looked to be in his forties. He wore a suit but lacked the sharp look of a professional; instead, he had the classic paunch of a stereotypical boss. Standing next to him was Chloe. As soon as we walked in, we saw Chloe quickly straightening up from a bent position. The sound of us opening the door seemed to have flustered her. My eyes flickered. I wasn’t entirely sure what I saw, but had the General Manager just moved his hand away from Chloe’s waist? Weren’t they supposed to be uncle and niece? Did I imagine it? “Why are the numbers in this bidding document wrong?” Before I could think further, the General Manager threw a bound document at my feet. I frowned and picked it up. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing because I had personally double-checked every single number in that document. It was impossible for there to be an error. But strangely, when I flipped through it, the numbers were wrong. “Mr. Davis, Mia is new. It’s inevitable she’d be a little careless. Please don’t be too hard on her. If she loses this job, she probably won’t even be able to afford food.” Chloe smiled playfully, patting Mr. Davis on the shoulder. Her soft fingers lightly brushed against his suit collar in a way that felt strangely intimate. I kept frowning and didn’t reply, trying to recall everything I did after finishing the document. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you know how big of a mess you’ve made?” Mr. Davis slammed his hand on the desk and yelled, pointing right at my nose. “Our company was guaranteed to win this project! Because of the errors in your document, we lost the bid to a competitor. Do you have any idea how much money you just cost us?” “Mr. Davis, this isn’t my document,” I said calmly, placing the binder back on his desk. “Not yours? Then whose is it? Don’t try to shift the blame.” Mr. Davis narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them. I let out a cold laugh. “I prepared the document, but the numbers in the one I made were correct. As for why this version has the wrong numbers, you’ll have to ask Chloe.” “Mia, what are you talking about? The whole company knows you made this document. How can you have the nerve to blame me? And after I just pleaded for you!” Chloe glared at me, raising her voice. “Pleaded for me? I don’t need it. This isn’t even the version I gave you. You changed the numbers.” “You… you must be joking. Why on earth would I change the numbers?” “That’s a question for you. Why did you change my numbers?” Perhaps seeing that I wasn’t intimidated, Chloe became increasingly agitated. “You’re accusing me of changing the numbers. What proof do you have? You printed this document yourself and handed it to me.” I scoffed. “It’s true I printed it and gave it to you, but the next day, didn’t you ask me for the digital copy?” “You did send me the digital copy, but I checked it today, and the numbers match the printed version. So, you made the mistake.” Chloe put on a hurt, victimized expression. “Mia, I always thought you were a good person. I never expected you to falsely accuse me just to avoid responsibility.” Hearing this, I actually laughed. I looked at Mr. Davis again. “So, she’s claiming I got the numbers wrong, is that right?” “Mia, a mistake is a mistake. Don’t try to blame your colleagues. Do you know the company could sue you for the losses you’ve caused?” Mr. Davis lowered his voice, adding a threatening tone. “Mr. Davis, you don’t need to scare me. Let’s set aside whether we lost the bid solely because of this document. Just the fact that you entrusted a crucial bidding document to an intern on her first day—do you think a judge would even entertain a lawsuit against me?” “Furthermore, she insists both the digital and printed versions I gave her had the wrong numbers. So, Chloe, did you actually read the email? When I sent you the document, I CC’d the department manager and the CEO.” Mr. Davis seemed to have forgotten about this detail. He hurriedly opened his email and, sure enough, found the email I had sent ten days ago. “Who gave you permission to CC the CEO?” Mr. Davis seemed furious, his eyes bulging with anger. I smiled, a bright, cheerful smile. “Is there a rule against CC’ing the CEO? Mr. Davis, you might want to spend some time figuring out how you’re going to explain to the CEO why the wrong version of the document was submitted.” 3 When I left the General Manager’s office, I wore a victorious smile, completely ignoring the venomous glares from the people behind me. In reality, regardless of whether that email existed or not, they had no legal grounds to pin the blame on a brand-new intern. However, the email’s existence changed the dynamic entirely. Of course, I also knew I had severely offended those three. I really didn’t understand where Chloe’s malice toward me came from. I had heard she pushed out other interns, but her actions toward me seemed far more targeted than simple hazing. If someone more timid had faced this today, they probably would have panicked completely. I didn’t have time to dwell on it and threw myself into my next tasks. With this incident as a warning, I knew I had to be much more careful. After lunch, Mrs. Jenkins, the cleaning lady, placed a container of fruit on my desk. “Eat up. You’ve been working so hard these past two days, you’ve lost weight.” Before I could even thank her, Chloe’s shrill voice came from behind me. “What is that smell? Did you dig that out of the trash?” I frowned and turned around. She had resumed her arrogant posture, dramatically pinching her nose. “Have you never seen grapes before? Does your family have to dig through the trash to find them?” I picked up a grape from the container and popped it into my mouth. It was sweet and crisp—my favorite, Shine Muscat grapes. “Who hasn’t seen grapes? It’s just funny that someone who begs for lunch scraps is suddenly acting high and mighty. You have to rely on a cleaning lady for handouts. Stuff from a cleaning lady obviously belongs in the trash.” Chloe waved her hand in disgust. “Chloe, watch your mouth. Stop associating the cleaning staff with the trash,” I said, my anger finally boiling over. I slammed the container down on the desk, the loud noise catching the attention of everyone in the office. “Am I wrong? Cleaners pick up trash. What’s the problem? Of course, someone like you is only fit to associate with cleaners.” As she spoke, she fanned the air around her and squeezed past us, swaying her hips. Could I hit her? Just as I couldn’t resist the urge to step forward and pull her hair, Mrs. Jenkins grabbed my hand and shook her head. Knowing she didn’t want me to cause trouble, I sighed, picked up the grapes, and decided to ignore that woman. “Come over to your great-aunt’s house for dinner after work today. Your cousin is back; I’ll have him pick you up,” Mrs. Jenkins whispered, patting my head. That’s right. The company’s cleaning lady was my great-aunt. She was used to working hard when she was younger and couldn’t stand being idle. So, she found a cleaning job in our family’s office building. Not for the paycheck, but just to have something to do. Actually, the office building next door also belonged to our family, but because people there recognized her, she didn’t work there and applied to this company instead. I chose this company specifically because she worked here. I nodded to show I understood. That afternoon, Chloe was either demanding we open the windows for ventilation or fanning herself, complaining that the office smelled like a dumpster. I just pretended I couldn’t hear her and ignored her. But I didn’t expect that the colleagues who were usually oppressed by her—and too afraid to fight back—would turn their frustration toward me. Some started slamming their mice impatiently. Others echoed Chloe: “Yeah, aren’t you afraid of getting sick eating grapes from the trash?” “Exactly. That kind of stuff should be thrown away.” Chloe smiled smugly. “Someone like her could never bear to throw anything away.” Normally, their relationship with my great-aunt wasn’t bad, but faced with Chloe’s targeted attacks, they became bitter and mean. I gritted my teeth and put the grapes in my drawer. When it was time to leave, my colleagues didn’t even want to share an elevator with me. Having the whole elevator to myself, I didn’t care at all. I just felt the air in the elevator was much fresher than in the office. Downstairs, I immediately spotted Liam’s Jaguar. He seemed to see me too and stepped out of the car. Just as I was about to walk over, I heard rushed footsteps behind me, followed by a hard bump against my shoulder. Chloe dashed past me, the impact not slowing her down at all. Her target was Liam. I raised an eyebrow and slowed my pace. “Liam! When did you get back?!” She smiled brightly, tilting her head up to look at him with a picture-perfect expression of serene adoration. The sight of the handsome guy and the pretty girl was actually quite pleasant. “Just got back.” Liam frowned slightly, offering a curt three-word reply. “Oh! It’s been so long. Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” She seemed completely oblivious to the rejection radiating from Liam, her smile remaining sweet as she took a step closer. “No, I’m here to pick up Mia.” His gaze bypassed Chloe and landed on me, carrying a hint of reproach. I chuckled inwardly. So Chloe had a crush on him. Ignoring Chloe’s resentful glare, I opened the passenger door and got in. Liam gave a distant “Excuse me,” got in the car, and drove us away. “You guys know each other?” I asked, amused, looking at my cousin who was driving with a wooden expression. He seemed to search his memory before replying, “She confessed to me before I went abroad.” My cousin is only two months older than me. He was the campus heartthrob at our university. Half a year ago, for some reason, he decided to do a study abroad program, and now he was back. We had always been close, and he looked out for me in college. But to avoid disrupting my peaceful college life, we never publicly disclosed our relationship. It was obvious he didn’t have a good impression of Chloe. His lips were pressed into a tight line, and a slight crease formed between his brows. I pursed my lips and didn’t ask any more questions about Chloe, instead asking him about his time abroad. The next day at work, the way my colleagues looked at me was a bit strange. Jessica even covertly tugged at my shirt and asked, “Was the guy who picked you up yesterday your boyfriend?” I shook my head. “That’s my…” “Don’t be ridiculous. How could Liam like her? Is Mia even in his league?” Chloe spoke up before me, her tone full of disdain but her eyes screaming jealousy. I was speechless. It’s true he wasn’t my boyfriend, but it definitely wasn’t because I wasn’t “in his league.” “Oh, really? If I’m not in his league, who is? You?” I finally couldn’t hold back my anger and let out a sarcastic laugh. To my surprise, the woman rolled her eyes at me. “I’m certainly a better match than you. Do you know what Liam’s family does? Do you know that one of his outfits costs more than your entire four years of college tuition? Do you think a family like his would ever accept someone with your background? I’m different. My uncle is the General Manager here. Any random purse I own costs more than everything you’re wearing combined, multiplied by ten. Who do you think is a better match for him?” Looking at her, decked out like a walking billboard for designer logos, I just found her ridiculous. “Right, you’re a perfect match. It’s just a shame you can’t even get a ride in his car.” “You… who knows what dirty tricks you used to get into Liam’s car. Girls should have some self-respect. Aren’t you afraid of being dumped and humiliated after scheming your way into a man’s car?” Chloe gritted her teeth, her voice carrying across the room. The entire office heard her little speech. As a result, the looks my colleagues gave me were tinged with contempt. I took a deep breath, suppressing the fury in my heart and the urge to shove her head into the trash can. Finally, I let out a cold laugh, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear: “Do you know why the monk Fo Yin saw Buddha when he looked at Su Dongpo, but Su Dongpo saw a pile of dung when he looked at Fo Yin?” Chloe froze, not understanding the reference at all. However, a few other colleagues almost burst out laughing. I ignored her and went back to work. About ten minutes later, I heard someone yelling from the direction of the restroom: “Mia, you are dead meat!” Looks like… she finally figured it out. 4 That evening as we were getting off work, Chloe suddenly stood up and announced she was treating everyone to dinner. Everyone had to go; refusing meant disrespecting her. A few female colleagues with children had to pick them up after work. Being suddenly told they had to go to dinner put them in a difficult position, their faces showing their stress. I didn’t want to go anyway, so I spoke up before they could. “I’m not going. I have plans.” “Mia, you’re already anti-social enough at work. I’m giving you a chance to bond with everyone, and you’re refusing? Are you just unwilling to hang out with us? What, you’re poor but still a snob?” I honestly didn’t know how she concluded I was poor, or why she kept emphasizing it. I figured any girl with an average income, if told she was poor often enough, would probably start believing it herself. “I’m not going because I have plans. What does that have to do with being a snob?” I frowned, already very annoyed. “Are you the only one with plans? Look at Sarah and the others, they have kids at home. Did they make excuses?” Chloe’s self-righteous attitude was truly obnoxious. “Yeah, Mia, you’re being too aloof. If those of us with kids can make it, why can’t you?” Sarah chimed in, trying to persuade me. I had only spoken up because I saw they were uncomfortable refusing. Since they were now acting like they genuinely wanted to go, I didn’t have any strong objections. The place Chloe took us to was an upscale restaurant near the office, the kind that costs hundreds of dollars per person. For regular employees at our company, it was definitely a place they’d be reluctant to spend their own money on. Let alone the fact that we were seated directly in a private dining room. Everyone bent over backward praising Chloe, saying how it truly showed she was wealthy to eat at a place like this. “She’s not just regular wealthy. Do you guys know this restaurant? Normal people can’t even get a private room; you have to be a VIP. And to become a VIP here, you have to load at least ten thousand dollars onto a membership card upfront.” Sarah’s eyes sparkled as she looked around, reading aloud the information she had just Googled about the restaurant. Instantly, the admiration for Chloe in the room skyrocketed. Chloe’s smile was exceptionally radiant. “It’s just a VIP card, it’s not that big of a deal.” As if she truly didn’t care about the ten thousand dollars. I sat in the corner, not saying a word, just hoping we’d finish eating soon so I could go home and rest. The waiter came in to take our order. Chloe casually ordered a few dishes, then passed the menu to the person next to her, telling everyone to order whatever they liked. They looked at the menu and, seeing the prices, were hesitant to order anything. Finally, a few of the male colleagues stepped up and ordered two dishes. Chloe eventually placed the menu in my hands. “Mia, don’t say I didn’t treat you right. Order whatever you want. After all, this might be the only time in your life you’ll ever eat at a place like this.” I took the menu but didn’t open it. I just looked up at the waiter and said, “I’ll have the hot and sour shredded potatoes. Hold the vinegar.” Everyone in the room froze, their eyes even carrying a hint of mockery. Chloe burst out laughing. “Mia, do you think this is some cheap takeout joint? We don’t have something as low-class as hot and sour shredded potatoes on this menu.” I shrugged. “If that’s the case, never mind. I’m good.” She sneered and flipped open the drink menu. “What do you want to drink?” Everyone knew the drinks here were expensive, so they declined, saying whatever she ordered was fine. Chloe raised an eyebrow triumphantly and shot another malicious look my way. “Mia, since you couldn’t find anything to eat earlier, why don’t you pick the drinks?” “I’ll just take a Budweiser,” I said without batting an eye, not even reaching for the drink menu she held out. This time, my colleagues finally couldn’t hold back their laughter. The one laughing the loudest was, naturally, Chloe. She clutched her stomach, practically bent over. “Mia, you’ve never been to a high-end restaurant, so you probably don’t know. Places like this don’t sell Budweiser. Forget it, you wouldn’t know what to order anyway. I’ll do it.” I didn’t care at all. “Is that so? Well, thank you for showing me the world.” The waiter glanced at me but said nothing. After taking Chloe’s drink order, he left the room. The food came out quickly here, and soon the waiters were filling the table with delicacies. My colleagues kept marveling at how different the food at high-end restaurants was, snapping photos non-stop. Even the male colleagues couldn’t resist pulling out their phones. I was the only one not doing anything. Until a waiter walked in holding a plate of hot and sour shredded potatoes and a bottle of Budweiser, respectfully placing them right in front of me. Everyone was stunned. The room fell completely silent. I could even hear someone gasp. “This… we didn’t order this,” Chloe said in a panic. She hadn’t seen these items on the food or drink menus! “This is complimentary from the house for this lady,” the waiter replied, looking up with a professional smile. Without waiting for Chloe’s reaction, he turned and left the room. I sighed inwardly. It seemed I had been recognized. This restaurant belonged to my uncle, and my family often had gatherings here. I thought keeping a low profile would keep me unrecognized, but the waiter had a sharp eye. Because of these two items, an eerie silence settled over the room, the atmosphere incredibly awkward. I was the only one casually eating my hot and sour shredded potatoes. “Mia, you… what’s your relationship with this restaurant?” Sarah cleared her throat, asking on behalf of everyone. I swallowed my food and took a slow sip of the ice-cold Budweiser. It was refreshing. “I don’t have any relationship with this restaurant.” I just have a relationship with the owner. Then, I smiled brightly at Chloe. “I really thought they didn’t have shredded potatoes and Budweiser here, but it turns out they do!” Chloe’s face visibly darkened, and eventually, she could only force an awkward laugh and invite everyone to eat. I smiled and didn’t continue the topic, instead quietly eating my food. At the table, everyone was still very enthusiastic toward Chloe, but their attitude toward me had noticeably softened. This made Chloe’s expression increasingly sour; she barely made it to the end of the dinner. Leaving the restaurant, Chloe maintained a polite smile, but her initial smugness was gone. Some colleagues called designated drivers, others hailed Ubers. I looked around, spotted a public bike, and prepared to ride it back, since I lived close by. As I pushed the bike in front of everyone to say goodbye. I clearly saw Chloe’s eyes light up. “Mia, you… you’re riding a public bike home?” She purposefully raised her voice, acting like she had just witnessed something scandalous. “Can you really not even afford an Uber?” I nodded. “I live close by; there’s no need for an Uber.” “Close by? Mia, if you’re going to lie, shouldn’t you at least do some research first? This isn’t the slums. How could you possibly afford to live around here?” At this, my colleagues all looked at me, their eyes clearly agreeing with Chloe. “Actually, there are some residential areas nearby. Maybe Mia really does live close,” Jessica chimed in, probably feeling awkward for me and speaking up in my defense for once. “Ha, the residential areas nearby? Jessica, you’re as poor as Mia, so you probably don’t know, but do you have any idea how expensive the housing is around here? It’s not a place someone who rides a public bike can afford.” Chloe sneered dismissively and casually unlocked her BMW. “Does anyone need a ride?” Immediately, a few of the younger girls behind her raised their hands. “That would be great, thank you, Chloe. You’re the best.” As the BMW drove away, I clearly saw the contemptuous look Chloe shot me through the window. I was speechless that one sentence from me could elicit such disgust from her. “Mia, are you… are you really going to ride that bike home? It’ll take forever, won’t it?” Jessica looked at me with concern. “Why don’t we split an Uber?” “No thanks, I really don’t live far. I don’t need a ride.”

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I threw myself in front of a speeding truck to save him. For three years, I was a ghost in my own skin—a “vegetable” in a hospital bed. When I finally woke up, he was already at the altar with someone else. Broken and discarded, I ended my life by jumping from a rooftop. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. I was standing on that street corner, one second before the truck hit. This time, I didn’t move an inch to save him. Chapter 1 I spent over a year in grueling physical therapy. Alone. Finally, I could eat by myself, dress myself, and walk without a brace. To most people, these are the mundane basics of life. To me, they were as difficult as reaching for the stars. Even my doctors called it a medical miracle. After all, that accident had left me in a deep coma for three long years. Everyone thought I’d never wake up. They thought if I did, I’d be a hollow shell—paralyzed or brain-damaged. But I didn’t just wake up. Through a year of agonizing rehab, I got stronger. Now, if I don’t stand for too long, I look just like anyone else. I endured a level of pain most people can’t imagine. I suffered through countless mental breakdowns. And finally, the day arrived. I couldn’t wait any longer. I packed my bags and headed home, planning to surprise Caleb. He didn’t even know I was awake. But when I dragged my suitcase into our—his—apartment, my heart stopped. The place was covered in white lace and ivory ribbons. “Save the Date” cards were scattered on the counter. The house had been completely renovated. The floor-to-ceiling cat tree I had designed myself was gone. In its place stood a sleek, pink designer cabinet. My old friends were there, blowing up gold balloons. My former classmates were hanging floral garlands. My Aunt Sarah was meticulously arranging personalized party favors on a velvet-covered bed, her face lit with a celebratory glow. And my boyfriend? He was standing there in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, looking like a high-end department store mannequin. On the wall hung a massive, new wedding portrait. The girl in the photo was smiling. She looked incredibly sweet. Just then, a server carrying hot tea accidentally bumped into my arm. The scalding water splashed onto me, instantly blooming into a painful red welt. The server gasped. In an instant, every head in the room turned toward me. The air sucked out of the room. I saw shock, a flicker of joy, but mostly… intense, suffocating awkwardness. My aunt dropped the favor she was holding. It rolled across the hardwood floor in the dead silence. Caleb’s pupils shrunk. His face went ghostly pale. “Elara?” he whispered, his voice trembling as if he were seeing a ghost. I forced a smile that felt more like a jagged wound. I didn’t know how to answer. My body acted on instinct. I took two steps back, turned, and bolted out the door. It was autumn in the city. The wind was biting, and dead leaves were piled along the sidewalk. As I ran, they crunched under my feet—a brittle, harsh sound. Because of the lingering effects of the coma, I wasn’t fast. That short distance cost me every ounce of my strength. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me into a hard chest. Caleb held me, his entire body shaking. “You’re back,” he choked out. “Elara, God… I missed you so much.” My tears fell onto his expensive suit. I was back. But it felt like everything was gone. Chapter 2 Caleb went to his fiancée’s house to break off the engagement. The wedding was scheduled to happen in eighteen hours. My Aunt Sarah sat on the edge of my bed, stroking my hair, her eyes red from crying. “Don’t be too hard on Caleb, honey. These four years… he suffered so much.” “If it wasn’t for that girl, he might not have made it through.” I felt a lump in my throat. My eyes drifted to the corsage pinned to her dress. A vibrant red rose with a ribbon that read: Matron of Honor. She quickly covered it with her hand, a look of deep shame crossing her face. “Elara, I didn’t mean to betray you. I just…” “I just never thought you’d wake up.” Her voice trailed off until it was barely a whisper. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Just as the tears threatened to spill over, I forced out a sentence. “I just got back. I’m jet-lagged. I need to sleep.” I pulled my hand away from hers and crawled under the covers. I pulled the duvet over my head and curled into a ball, shaking. This pain… it was a hundred times worse than the physical therapy. I found myself praying it was a nightmare. Just like the dreams I had in the early days of rehab—dreams where I was still a “vegetable,” unable to hold a spoon, drooling, unable to even use the bathroom… Hours passed before the bed dipped. I knew Caleb was back. The silence was deafening. Finally, I sat up to face him. Two buttons were missing from his shirt. His tie was shredded. His face was bruised and bloodied at the corner of his mouth. “Did they hit you?” I asked. “It’s fine. I deserved it.” I understood. The invitations were out. The venue was paid for. To bail the night before the wedding—the bride’s family wasn’t going to let him walk away unscathed. If I hadn’t come back, tomorrow they would have stood before God, exchanged rings, and started a life. The thought made me dig my nails into my palms. I asked the question that had been burning a hole in my heart. “Caleb, did you think I was never coming back, too?” He bit his lip, his eyes downcast. After a long pause, he whispered, “Elara, I’m here now. I’m never leaving you again.” He didn’t answer the question. And that promise—so full of pity—hurt more than the truth. Suddenly, Caleb’s phone buzzed. The lock screen popped up: a photo of him and that girl. The caller ID read—My Princess. He had even set the font to a cute, bubbly script. My Princess… What a sweet name. Once upon a time, that’s what he called me. Noticing my gaze, Caleb quickly hit ‘Ignore.’ But the person on the other end didn’t give up. The phone buzzed again and again. Caleb finally shut the phone off entirely. He looked at me, full of guilt. “I’m sorry. She… she just needs time to process.” He paused, then added, “But don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” “How long were you together?” I asked. The question caught him off guard. He gripped his phone tightly. “A year,” he rasped. I closed my eyes. A year. While I was hiding the news of my recovery because I was afraid my “broken” self would scare him… While I was falling and bleeding as I re-learned how to walk… while I was biting my tongue raw trying to speak… while I was crying in a bathroom because I couldn’t undo my own buttons… While I was pushing through the darkness, thinking only of the day I could be whole for him… He was falling in love with someone else. Chapter 3 Caleb’s promise to stay forever lasted exactly one day. He left in a hurry because Chloe—the girl—had fallen ill. Before he left, he swore he was just going to check on her, make sure she was okay, and then end it for good. One week passed. He didn’t come back. Cold and hollow, I began packing up every gift and trinket he had ever given me. I was going to send it all back. I wasn’t pathetic. I wasn’t going to beg for a man’s love. And I wasn’t stupid. If he had really cared, he would have found out I was awake. Nathan, my foster brother, tried to hide the news at my request, but a year is a long time. If Caleb had looked for me, he would have known. I had spent years making excuses for him. He’s busy. Flights are expensive. The distance is too far. He has his parents to care for… I was tired of making excuses. I was done with him. As I was carrying a box out to the mail, his “fiancée” showed up at my door. Chloe was wearing a loose sundress and holding a folder from a women’s health clinic. She saw me staring at the folder. She gently stroked her stomach and smiled. “Caleb and I were hours away from being husband and wife, Elara. You didn’t think we were just holding hands this whole year, did you?” Her smug look triggered a memory. I recognized her now. She was the “little sister” from our college days who always hung around him—Chloe. No wonder my aunt was the Matron of Honor. She and Chloe’s father had been high school sweethearts. “Are you trying to guilt him into staying with you?” Chloe asked, tilting her head with a look of fake innocence. She reached into my box and pulled out a soda tab. It was the “promise ring” Caleb gave me in college. He told me one day he’d replace it with a real diamond. Ironically, the real diamond was now on her finger. “Don’t be delusional,” she whispered. “He knows he’s going to be a father. He’s thrilled.” She tossed the soda tab onto the ground like trash and leaned into my ear. “Let me tell you a secret. Caleb and I have had a thing for a long time. Four years ago, the day of your accident? He was actually on his way to break up with you.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. I remembered his stuttering that day. I remembered his silence over the last four years. The “heroism” I thought I had displayed… it was all a joke. As I turned to walk away, Chloe intentionally bumped into me. The box in my arms fell, spilling my memories across the pavement. She looked at me with pure triumph. She had won. But as she stepped back, she slipped on a crystal bracelet that had fallen from the box. She lost her balance and tumbled down the porch steps. Blood began to pool under her dress. She screamed, calling me a murderer. Caleb appeared out of nowhere, rushing to her side. He shoved me back so hard I nearly fell. “Elara! How could you be so cruel?” My heart was dead, but I wasn’t a doormat. I stepped forward and slapped Caleb across the face. “I’m not the one who’s disgusting here,” I spat. Chloe’s family called the police. They wanted me in jail. My aunt looked at me as if I were a stranger, desperate to distance herself from me. My old friends whispered that I was a psycho. But then, the evidence came out. Nathan had installed a Ring camera at my front door. It caught everything—Chloe’s smug face, her confession, and her own clumsy fall. She had tripped on her own greed. The day Caleb came to apologize, I was standing on the edge of the apartment building’s roof. The stars I used to love were blocked out by the city smog. “Elara, I was wrong! I should have trusted you. Please, come down. I’m begging you!” My aunt was there, too. “Elara, I’m so sorry! Don’t do anything stupid!” It’s funny. When you decide to leave the world, the world suddenly decides to love you. I stood on the ledge, a leaf ready to drop. Caleb fell to his knees, sobbing, saying he loved me. I was just so tired. Between the rehab and the heartbreak, my mental health had shattered. I needed pills just to close my eyes. I thought Caleb would be my salvation, but he was the one who pushed me into the abyss. I had lost four years of my youth. I had lost my health. I had lost the ability to love. I wasn’t ever going to be okay again. I opened my arms, letting the cold wind whip through my hair. As I tipped backward into the air, I looked at Caleb and whispered: “I curse you to never find a single soul who truly loves you.” Chapter 4 I didn’t expect to wake up. But when I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day of the accident, four years ago. A younger Caleb stood before me, looking at his shoes. “Elara, look… I actually…” “You want to break up, right?” The familiar scene played out, and I couldn’t help but finish his sentence for him. He snapped his head up, looking at me in total shock. “You’re seeing Chloe. You’ve been cheating on me for at least three months.” I took a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of relief. “I agree. We’re done.” I said it so casually, as if I were talking about the weather. Caleb panicked. “I wasn’t cheating! I don’t know who told you that, but I’d never betray you! I just…” His voice dropped. “I just don’t think we’re right for each other.” Hilarious. He chased me for a year. We were together for four. And only now did he decide we weren’t “right.” I scoffed. In the distance, the clock tower struck eight. Snow began to fall. The traffic light at the intersection flickered and went out. Everything was exactly like the first time. “Caleb, I was going to give you a chance. If you had just been man enough to admit you liked someone else, I would have respected that.” “But you don’t even have the courage to admit your own mistakes.” I took a step back, looking at him with pity. At twenty, Caleb was handsome and full of life. But inside, he was hollow. It took me two lifetimes to see it. Just then, the screech of tires echoed through the street. Two blinding headlights cut through the snow. A massive truck was careening toward the curb—straight toward me. In my first life, I had lunged forward to push Caleb out of the way. This time, I saw Caleb’s first instinct. He turned and scrambled back, desperate to save himself. But the truck hit a stone pillar, swerved violently, and fishtailed—straight toward Caleb. CRASH. The world went silent. The pristine white snow was suddenly stained a deep, shocking crimson. A single tear escaped my eye. If Caleb had run toward me—like I had run toward him in my first life—the truck would have hit the brick wall behind us. We both would have been fine. But he didn’t. The boy I had loved since I was sixteen didn’t even look back at me. As they loaded Caleb into the ambulance, I picked up his phone from the snow. A notification popped up. Exactly one minute ago, Chloe had posted a photo of them kissing. The caption: Finally, you’re all mine. The comments were full of “congrats” from Caleb’s friends—the same ones who called me “sister-in-law” yesterday. Only one comment stood out. It was from Nathan, my foster brother: In this day and age, do people really have no shame? The comment was deleted seconds later. My parents died when I was young. My aunt took most of the insurance money. Nathan was the one who raised me. He dropped out of college and worked two jobs just to pay for my tuition. In my first life, he was the one who stayed by my hospital bed for four years. I dialed Nathan’s number. The background was noisy—he was likely at the warehouse where he worked. Nathan wasn’t a tech mogul yet. He was just a guy trying to survive. “Nate,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I miss you.” Chapter 5 Nathan borrowed a beat-up pickup truck and drove halfway across the state through a blizzard to get to me. The first thing he said was: “Don’t cry, Elara. If you still want Caleb, I’ll find a way to make him leave that girl.” His eyes were fierce. He looked ready to throw hands with the world for me. My heart warmed. In my first life, he was the first person I saw when I woke up from the coma. He taught me to eat, to speak, to walk. He never cared if I made a mess. He never judged me. The hospital staff used to whisper that I was a burden, that I’d never get married. Nathan had shouted at them, saying if I never married, he’d take care of me forever. He was my true salvation. Why had I been so obsessed with Caleb? At least in this life, I was healthy. “I don’t want him anymore,” I said, climbing into the truck. “Let’s go to his place. I’m moving out.” I needed a clean break. We went to the apartment Caleb and I shared. An entire wall was filled with my dance trophies. I remembered how excited I was when we moved in. I had picked out the plants, the rugs, the furniture. I thought this was my “forever” home. Slowly, I packed it all into boxes, erasing every trace of myself. I left the keys with the super. When I finished, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Cutting my losses early was a lesson that cost me a lifetime to learn. Just then, I got a text from one of Caleb’s friends. Elara, Caleb was in a wreck. They had to amputate his right leg below the knee. He’s at Mercy Hospital… I didn’t even finish reading. I blocked the number. Chapter 6 A month passed. I was back at school, excelling in my classes and winning a major scholarship. The campus was buzzing with two stories. First, that Caleb had cheated on me with Chloe. Second, that Caleb was now an amputee. “There’s a third story,” my roommate Maya whispered as we sat in the dining hall. Maya knew everything. “Chloe went to see him in the hospital. When she found out about the leg, she almost fainted. As soon as he woke up, she dumped him. She told him she was too young to spend her life with a ‘cripple.’” “Talk about karma. They went public and broke up on the same day.” Maya looked at me. “Seriously, Elara, you dodged a bullet. That guy would have dragged you down with him.” I stared at my shoes. Losing a limb, being dumped by the “love of his life,” seeing his future crumble… Now he knew how it felt. A few weeks later, Caleb was discharged. His friends tried to throw a “Welcome Home” party to cheer him up. They actually had the nerve to tag me in the group chat. Elara, Caleb’s been in the hospital for a month and you haven’t visited once. You have to show up for the homecoming! They even sent a location pin. Did they forget how they cheered when Chloe posted that picture? I was about to reply when Maya beat me to it. You guys are tagging the wrong person. Elara is the ex-girlfriend he cheated on. She doesn’t owe him a damn thing. The chat went silent for a minute. Then someone replied: He’s disabled now. Can’t she let the past go? Are you kidding? Maya recorded a voice memo. Caleb only lost a leg. Elara lost her heart! I hugged her. She was the best “internet bodyguard” I could ask for.

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At a college reunion, I lost a game of Truth or Dare. My classmates dared me: “Call the person pinned at the top of your text messages and say, ‘Honey, I miss you.’” I had to bite the bullet and make the call. I said the words. To my absolute shock, the voice on the other end replied, “Yeah, I miss you too.” My classmates’ eyes lit up with gossip, immediately interrogating me about when I had secretly gotten married. Help me! The person on the other end of the line was my tyrannical boss. We aren’t even close! During the Thanksgiving break, some old college classmates organized a reunion. Faced with the endless, invasive questions from my aunts and uncles back home, I seized the opportunity to escape. At the reunion, we started playing Truth or Dare. The entire evening passed without incident until the very end of the game, when I finally lost. Looking at the pack of wolves around me, their eyes practically glowing green as they dug up everyone’s deepest secrets, I nervously chose “Dare.” A classmate smirked, “Call the person pinned at the top of your text messages and say, ‘Honey, I miss you.’” Oh, crap. The person pinned at the top of my messages was my boss. After all, he’s the one signing my paychecks. It’s only natural I keep his thread pinned so I don’t miss any important work messages. I hesitated. “Um, that might be my boss…” “You’re married?” a classmate asked. I shook my head. “Then make the call!” I had no choice but to dial the number, praying silently that he wouldn’t answer. But before the third ring, Alexander’s deep, resonant voice came through the speaker. “What is it?” Under the expectant gazes of everyone in the room, I gritted my teeth and forced out the words: “Honey, I miss you.” There was a pause on the other end. Right before I could hang up, he spoke. “Yeah, I miss you too.” Seeing everyone covering their mouths, staring at me in silent shock, I hurriedly ended the call. “I’m not married. It’s not what you think.” My classmate waved his hand dismissively. “We get it, we get it. Office romance. Keeping it low-key! We understand!” I rubbed my temples, exhausted. No, you really don’t. I could only take solace in the fact that I didn’t have to go into the office for a few days. Otherwise, I’d probably die of embarrassment right in front of Alexander. But Alexander saying something like that… he must have been drunk. He’ll probably forget all about it by tomorrow. The next day, I had completely pushed the incident to the back of my mind. Early the next morning, I could hear my dad laughing through my bedroom door. Then, I heard my mom knocking gently. “Olivia, time to get up,” she said softly. I was just wondering why my mom was in such a good mood today, speaking so sweetly, when she added: “Your boyfriend is here. Come on out.” I practically jumped out of bed and yanked the door open. “What boyfriend? Who has a boyfriend?” My mom smiled so broadly her crow’s feet crinkled. “Yours, of course! Really, Olivia, why keep such an amazing guy a secret? You should have brought him home sooner.” I looked past my mom and saw the back of a man sitting on the living room sofa, wearing a crisp suit. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist, sitting tall and composed. Wait a minute. Is this a scammer? Or someone trying to sell us insurance? I pulled my mom into my room and gently closed the door. “Mom,” I whispered. “Did that guy ask you for money?” My mom playfully swatted my arm. “What kind of nonsense is that? The young man came to visit for the holidays, and I gave him a little gift card as a welcome. How does that make him a scammer?” I grimaced. “But Mom, I don’t have a boyfriend.” My mom paused. “Well, an ex-boyfriend counts, right? He’s already at the door. You two could rekindle things! He’s so handsome, and I even gave him a $500 gift card!” “What?!” I couldn’t hide my shock. “You only gave me fifty bucks! Am I even your biological daughter?” My mom rolled her eyes at me. “No, you were a free gift when we signed up for a new phone plan. I couldn’t possibly have given birth to someone this dense. Fine, if he’s not your boyfriend, he must have the wrong house. I’ll go kick him out before he gives me a headache.” I stopped her. “No, wait. I have to get that gift card back. We can’t just lose $500.” “You exasperating child. It’s the holidays. Don’t go starting trouble.” My mom tried to grab me, but I dodged her with a swift maneuver. I sprinted into the living room, shouting at the man, “Happy Holidays, Mister! Wishing you a prosperous…” I looked at the boss sitting in front of me and forcibly swallowed the rest of my sentence. Looking at my impeccably dressed boss, I suddenly remembered I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet, and my hair was a bird’s nest. In that moment, the awkwardness made me want to melt into the floorboards. Alexander stood up and looked at me, his eyes surprisingly gentle. “Olivia, Happy Holidays!” I was completely lost. Did my boss take the wrong medication today? Alexander continued, “I didn’t want to make our relationship public so soon either. But when you called me that night, my parents overheard and figured it out. Now they’re asking when I can bring you over to meet them.” In a flash of realization, I finally understood Alexander’s logic. He must have thought that when I called him that night, other people had overheard and misunderstood. So, he came over to return the favor, intentionally causing a misunderstanding with my family as payback. Petty and vindictive. Classic Alexander. But did he really think I was scared of him? A free shield delivered right to my door? I’ll take it. I affectionately linked my arm through his. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alexander stiffen slightly. I couldn’t help but smirk. “Mom, Dad, let me formally introduce you. This is Alexander. My boyfriend.” Sitting in the living room munching on some snacks, I watched him get interrogated by my parents like he was undergoing a background check. I couldn’t help but cackle internally. Take that, Alexander. At the dinner table, I struck again, constantly putting food on my boss’s plate—fatty cuts of meat, raw garlic, ginger, cilantro, and anything else I knew he hated. By the end of the meal, I had earned a look from my boss that transitioned from confused disbelief to barely suppressed rage. I gave him a modest smile. “I know you love these. Eat up! Don’t be shy!” Under the table, Alexander reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it warningly. “I really appreciate this.” Feeling the threat, I wisely lowered my head and focused on my own food. My mom suddenly asked, “How long have you two been together? When are you planning to get married?” I looked up at Alexander, eager to see how he would spin this. Alexander looked at me, his face the picture of devotion. “Although Olivia and I haven’t been together that long, we understand each other deeply. I can’t imagine my future without her in it.” I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms, feeling a sudden chill. I gave Alexander a pointed look, trying to signal him not to make it so ridiculously cheesy. Alexander’s lips curled into a faint smile as he continued, “I was hoping we could get married as soon as possible, but the courthouse is probably closed for the holidays. We might have to wait a couple of days. As for the wedding, our families can take their time planning it. We won’t skip any of the traditional steps.” Wow. I was absolutely floored. The chicken wing I was holding slipped from my chopsticks and fell onto the table. I angrily kicked Alexander under the table. There has to be a limit to this nonsense. How was I supposed to explain this to my parents later? Tell them he died and the wedding’s off? My dad seemed hesitant. “Isn’t this a bit too fast? You’ve only just met us.” Alexander looked at me, his eyes so tender it was almost unbelievable, as if we were truly a deeply in love couple. “When it’s the right person, it’s just a matter of time. But I’d rather do it sooner than later.” Saying this, he casually pulled a large ring of car keys from his pocket. “By the way, sir, are you planning to take a road trip over the break? I have quite a few cars in my garage just gathering dust. You should come by and pick one out. It’ll make your commute much easier.” I clearly saw my dad’s eyes widen. Alexander then turned to my mom. “Ma’am, I know you worry about Olivia. I have a few properties in the city. We’ll live in one of them when we get married. You can pick one out for yourselves, too. That way, it’ll be easy for Olivia to visit you whenever she misses home.” My mom’s face instantly lit up. She pulled out our family’s important documents file and slapped it on the table with gusto. “Oh, nonsense! Stop calling me ‘Ma’am.’ It’s time to start calling me ‘Mom’!” As one of the people involved in this transaction, I was left utterly dumbfounded. Snapping back to reality, I desperately tried to stop this farce. “Actually, we’re not—” Alexander suddenly grabbed my hand, a gentle smile in the corners of his eyes, interrupting me before I could finish. “From now on, all my paychecks will go straight to Olivia. I promise I’ll never give myself a chance to mistreat her.” “This is the engagement gift,” Alexander leaned in and whispered in my ear. “It’s seven figures. If you think it’s too little, I can add more. The PIN is my birthday.” Looking at the bank card suddenly pressed into my hand, my wrist suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. I fell silent. I surrendered. Ugh, the sugar-coated bullets of capitalism are just too sweet. … The Monday after the holidays. A good day to go back to work. I clutched my ID documents, hesitating to get into the car. Alexander looked at me through the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel, exuding an intense, oppressive aura. “Having second thoughts?” Faced with sudden, immense wealth, it’s hard not to lose your head. But once clarity returns, hesitation and suspicion are inevitable. “Why do you want to marry me? I’m so ordinary, and we barely know each other. Even if you just need someone to get your family off your back, it shouldn’t be me.” I cautiously took a step back. To be honest, I had thought about this carefully over the past few days. I suspected he wanted to trick me into going home with him so he could harvest my kidneys, or maybe he wanted to cut out my heart to give to his sick childhood sweetheart. Or maybe he had his eye on my corneas. Alexander suddenly chuckled. “You’re not ordinary. You’re different from everyone else. You’re very special.” The way he looked at me was like a pool of warm spring water, so tender it could drown a person. I felt my ears burning. “How am I different from everyone else?” I shot back. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my tone was all wrong. It sounded like I was playfully flirting with him. The manipulative tactics of a capitalist are truly terrifying! Feeling a bit embarrassed and angry, I blurted out, “Alexander, I suspect you’re involved in organ trafficking!” Alexander let out a soft laugh. “What, are you trying to say I stole your heart?” My face instantly burned bright red. “That’s not what I meant at all!” Who even uses cheesy pickup lines like that anymore? Alexander’s eyes were still smiling. “Are you standing so far away because you’re afraid I’ll steal your heart if you get too close?” “Bullshit!” I angrily climbed into the car and glared at him defiantly. “See? I’m not scared of you. Stop talking nonsense!” “Alright. Since you’re not scared, let’s head to the courthouse.” It wasn’t until we were on the road that I realized something was wrong. Wasn’t I just trying to back out? How did I suddenly end up in the car heading to the courthouse? At the entrance to the courthouse, I stopped dead in my tracks, refusing to take another step. Alexander turned to look at me. “What’s wrong?” I looked at Alexander’s face, gritted my teeth, and said, “Boss, I’m sorry. I don’t think we’re a good fit. You should find someone else to marry.” Alexander stared at me intently with those deep, handsome eyes. It sent a chill down my spine, like I was being targeted by a wolf. “Tell me, how exactly are we not a good fit? Or do you already have someone you like?” “We barely know each other. I can’t handle living with someone I’ve almost never spoken to, let alone sleeping in the same bed with them.” Alexander took a step closer, looking down at me. “Any other reasons?” I kept my head down, not daring to look at him. “I don’t want to easily trade away half my life just for money. I think the most important thing in life is to be happy. Besides, it’s not like I’m the only person you could marry.” Alexander suddenly placed his hand on my shoulder. I instinctively looked up and met his deep, dark, and unreadable gaze. He said softly, “You have a point. Actually, living in the moment and enjoying life is also very important.” Sensing danger, I hastily brushed his hand away, completely missing what he had just said. “Stay away from me.” I noticed his expression darken slightly and quickly tried to smooth things over. “I… I just think you’re standing too close. It’s getting hot.” I regretted it the moment I said it. It’s the middle of winter; how could it be hot? “It’s fine. I’m not forcing you.” Alexander rubbed his temples, returning to his usual demeanor. “I just need someone to help me deal with my family, and you happened to stumble into the situation. Plus, you happen to be a suitable candidate.” He let out a long sigh. “I should have been clearer with you. We can sign a prenuptial agreement. You won’t have to fulfill any ‘wifely duties.’ If you meet someone you like in the future, you can ask for a divorce. And while we’re married, I’ll hand over my salary every month.” I immediately started wavering again. “So we’ll sleep in separate rooms after we’re married? And… how much is your monthly salary?” “Whether we sleep in separate rooms is up to you, though we might occasionally need to keep up appearances for my family. My base salary is only $30,000 a month. Most of my income comes from dividends. While we’re married, you can expense any furniture, luxury goods, or gifts to me.” The scales in my heart began to tip. It was hard not to be tempted by those terms. Alexander continued, “If you’re still worried, I can have someone draft a marriage agreement listing all the conditions I just mentioned.” “Can I have some time to think about it?” I asked. Alexander glanced down at his watch, his face shifting into a strictly business expression. “I can give you three minutes. I have a meeting this afternoon. I don’t have time to waste.” “What about in a few days?” I pressed. Alexander frowned at me, then gave a short, slightly mocking laugh. “My time is very valuable. The entire holiday break is over, and you still haven’t made up your mind? Or have you just been playing me this whole time?” I suddenly didn’t dare to speak. I didn’t know why Alexander’s attitude had suddenly shifted, becoming so intensely intimidating. But it reminded me that this was exactly how he was at the office. High and mighty, decisive, serious, and unapproachable. This was his true self. Alexander urged, “Have you decided? Three minutes are up.” His tone was growing impatient. I quickly blurted out, “I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.” I took a deep breath and stepped into the courthouse like a soldier marching to the front lines. High risk, high reward. It was just a marriage, nothing to be afraid of. Looking at the freshly printed marriage certificate in my hands, I still couldn’t quite believe it. I remembered swearing in the past that I was going to be single forever. When I retired, I was going to travel the world alone, free and unburdened. How did things suddenly end up like this? The marriage certificate was suddenly snatched from my hands. I looked up and saw Alexander casually sliding my copy of the certificate into the inner pocket of his coat. I couldn’t help but object. “Boss, that one is mine. We each get one!” “I earned this marriage fair and square, so naturally, I get to keep all the certificates.” Alexander gave me a sidelong glance. “Got a problem with that?” I blinked, refusing to back down. “You say that like you could have gotten married all by yourself! Give it back!” Alexander leaned against the car door, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at me. “You want it that badly? Come and get it yourself, then.” I glared at him. Pervert! How did he expect me to get it? Did he want me to act like some kind of creep and grope him in public? Alexander offered a seemingly helpful reminder. “Time is ticking. If you want it, you better hurry.” Seeing the uncontrollable smirk on Alexander’s face, I realized for the first time that outside of work, he was actually a very irritating, manipulative person. “If you don’t want it, then forget it. Let’s get in the car and go back,” Alexander said with a look of feigned regret. Yeah, right. Seeing the smug satisfaction he couldn’t hide, I felt even more stifled. Smile, smile, smile. What’s there to be so smug about? Why isn’t he wearing his usual resting funeral face now? I angrily bumped his shoulder and walked all the way around the car to get into the passenger seat. Shortly after, Alexander opened the driver’s side door and got in. I shot him a glare, then immediately turned to look out the window. “Little pufferfish!” Alexander’s voice sounded right next to my ear. I hadn’t realized when he leaned in so close. When I turned my head, I was face-to-face with his flawless, enlarged features. My heart gave a violent lurch. I leaned back, putting some distance between us, trying to calm my racing heart before demanding, “Why did you suddenly get so close? You scared me.” Alexander’s tone was completely innocent. “I’m about to start driving. You didn’t have your seatbelt on.” With that, he reached over my right shoulder, pulled the seatbelt across, and buckled it. “I have hands! Couldn’t you just use your words to remind me?” I said indignantly. Alexander raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his attitude sincere. “I’m sorry, little pufferfish, my mistake. Next time I’ll definitely use my words instead of my hands.” “Who are you calling a pufferfish? You’re the pufferfish!” “Right, right, we’re both pufferfish.” Alexander’s tone was dismissive. “I’m taking you home to see our parents.” “We’re going to see your parents?” … I looked at the grand, imposing house in front of me, then looked down at myself—dressed casually, empty-handed. I wanted to cry. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Do I look appropriate for this?” Alexander frowned. “Why wouldn’t you be? We’ve already got the certificate. You’re not trying to back out now, are you?” Alexander reached out to hold my hand, but I impatiently shook him off. I was speechless. Why did he act like getting a piece of paper meant everything was perfectly fine? Did he think a marriage certificate was some kind of magical talisman? I was getting angry. “I didn’t prepare anything at all. It’s incredibly rude!” Alexander suddenly started laughing. “So you do care what my parents think of you.” He took my hand again, his face showing a hint of apology. “Sorry, it’s my fault for not telling you about meeting my family beforehand. But I’ve already prepared the gifts. They’re in the trunk. I’ll have someone bring them in later. Let’s go inside first. Don’t worry, they’re very happy with you. They won’t care what you’re wearing.” As we approached the door, I suddenly remembered something. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you say you had a meeting this afternoon? Why are we suddenly at your parents’ house?” I stopped, staring at him suspiciously. Alexander raised an eyebrow, speaking with absolute seriousness. “Isn’t bringing you home a very important meeting? What’s the problem?” But this plan was clearly based on the premise that I would agree to marry him. And he had already bought the gifts in advance. He had been absolutely certain I would say yes. Damn it. I felt like I had just stepped into another trap set by this capitalist. I suddenly had the urge to turn and run. The fact that a capitalist had put so much effort into securing me… was he really eyeing my internal organs? Alexander suddenly placed his hand on my shoulder, gripping it firmly. His tone was measured and calm. “You can run, but you can’t hide. We’re at the finish line. Am I going to have to push you through the door, or are you going to walk in yourself?” Ugh, is he the tapeworm living in my stomach? How does he know exactly what I’m thinking? I reluctantly knocked on the door. Once inside, I realized the Crawford family home wasn’t some terrifying dragon’s lair. It was more like a spider’s web, designed to entangle and corrupt me with wealth. Alexander’s parents weren’t what I had imagined. They both looked prosperous and were incredibly warm and welcoming to me. “This must be Olivia,” his mother said, smiling at me. “You look so sweet. A perfect fit for our family.” Saying that, she slipped a heavy gold bracelet and a ring off her own hands and slid them directly onto mine. His father quietly handed me a sleek black credit card. “Buy whatever you need. We have terrible taste, so the things we pick out never suit you young people.” I wasn’t sure if I should take it, so I glanced at Alexander. Alexander looked completely unfazed. “Take it. It’s just a small token from Mom and Dad.” Alexander’s parents were warm but respectful of boundaries, never making me feel pressured. After lunch, they even pulled me in to play a game of Monopoly. “We need a fourth. Come play, Olivia, otherwise we don’t have enough people.” Alexander’s parents and their live-in housekeeper made exactly three. “I don’t know how to play. Let Alexander play,” I declined. Alexander’s mother took my hand, smiling warmly. “That’s okay. Let Alexander teach you. If you lose, it comes out of his pocket.” “Go play. Don’t worry, I won’t let you lose too badly,” Alexander said, giving me a gentle push. Left with no choice, I was dragged to the game table. Whatever, if I lose, I lose. At the table, with Alexander’s guidance and his parents clearly going easy on me, a total novice like me kept winning left and right. I experienced the joy of winning for the first time. “Mom and Dad are really great people.” I slumped back in my seat in the car, counting a thick stack of crisp new twenty, fifty, and hundred dollar bills, practically flying high on happiness. Alexander glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “You like them? Then we can come visit them more often.” I wiggled around excitedly in the back seat. I smiled broadly. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose.” Alexander let out a soft chuckle but didn’t reply. “Where are we going now, boss?” I asked. “You’ll know when we get there.”

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During a brand livestream, I couldn’t fight the nausea and ended up throwing up twice on camera. A minute later, Carter Sterling sent me a text: “Why are you throwing up? If you’re not feeling well, end the stream. I’ll come pick you up.” I replied: “I’m fine. Just thinking about you makes me sick.” Chapter 1 Carter Sterling. The current king of Hollywood, heir to a massive corporate empire, and possessor of a face so flawlessly handsome it could make girls faint with a single glance. He wasn’t just a phenomenal actor; he could play the piano like a maestro. And as of today, he was my ex-boyfriend. I’m Blair Mitchell, a newly rising starlet in the entertainment industry. My career was finally on the upswing, and I had just dumped him. The main reason? I was terrified our secret relationship would be exposed and ruin my acting career. My trajectory could have ended right there. I was wide awake to the reality of this business; I absolutely refused to sacrifice my career for love. At least, that was the lie I told myself. The real reason was that Carter was trash. On Valentine’s Day, I had just wrapped up a shoot. Wanting to give him a huge surprise, I slipped into his favorite little black dress and snuck into his penthouse bedroom. Instead, he gave me the biggest surprise of my life! He walked into the apartment laughing and chatting with Chloe Vance, a wealthy socialite. I looked down at the text he had sent me just two hours prior: “Stuck on set today. Might be back really late, but I bought you a present.” I instantly felt a massive pair of green horns growing on my head. I exploded. I leaped out of his bedroom, pointed right at his nose, and screamed, “Carter! You bastard!” When he saw me, his body stiffened. His brows furrowed slightly before he casually took off his suit jacket, draped it over my shoulders, and said in a maddeningly calm voice, “Blair, I ran into Chloe downstairs. I just brought her up to grab something.” I wrenched my arm out of his grasp, threw his jacket onto the rug, grabbed the Birkin bag I had left on the bed, and glared at him. “Carter Sterling, I’m officially announcing that we are done.” He reached out and grabbed my arm again, a flash of irritation crossing his handsome face. “Blair, stop throwing a tantrum.” Chloe covered her mouth in shock, stepping forward to gently pull at my sleeve, her voice dripping with fake innocence. “Oh my gosh! Carter, are you dating this girl? I am so sorry, I had no idea! I shouldn’t have come up with you. You two talk, I’ll just leave.” She pretended to pull me back, but she didn’t even look at me. Her eyes were glued to Carter the entire time. And Carter, that jerk, actually held her back to explain! “Chloe, wait a second. I’ll be right with you.” He was holding onto me with one hand and telling her to wait with the other. Wow. It’s the 21st century, and he still thought he could have his cake and eat it too? Even if he was the crown prince of the Sterling Corporation, I wasn’t having it. I absolutely refused to swallow this humiliation. “Let go! Carter!” I yanked my arm away with all my strength and stormed out. It wasn’t until I reached the elevator that I realized he hadn’t chased after me. “Fine! Good riddance. The next one will be better,” I muttered to myself. But seeing my reflection in the polished elevator doors, my eyes stung, and two frustrating tears rolled down my cheeks. Thank God his penthouse had a private elevator. I quickly pulled a mask and sunglasses out of my purse and hid in the lobby restroom, waiting for my manager, Valerie, to bring me some normal clothes. Valerie helped me out of the dress, frowning as she scolded me. “I told you not to date him! Do you have any idea how powerful the Sterling family is? Now look what you’ve done. If you offend him, how are you going to survive in this industry?!” I pouted, staying silent and taking the scolding. “You didn’t actually offend him, did you?” Valerie paused, leaning in with a look of pure dread. I was about to answer when my stomach violently turned. “I don’t… hurk.” “What’s wrong with you?” Valerie eyed me suspiciously. “Nothing… I probably just caught a chill running downstairs,” I said, rubbing my stomach. It felt like a balloon had popped inside me, filling me with air. Once changed, Valerie and I bundled up and hailed a cab. My phone buzzed. A text from Carter: “Where are you? I’ll drive you home.” I locked the screen and tossed the phone into my bag. When we reached my apartment building, Valerie reminded me to take some medicine and make sure I was in top shape for tomorrow night’s livestream. Chapter 2 Carter and I met at a brand gala. It was freezing that winter night. As a low-tier actress, I had no choice but to wear a skimpy, backless evening gown, sitting at my table shivering. When we finally got a break, I sneaked out into the hotel corridor to soak up some of the heater’s warmth. That was when I ran into Carter, who had stepped out for some air. It was the first time I had ever spoken to him; before then, I had only admired him from afar. He was ridiculously handsome. Six-foot-two, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. His tailored black tuxedo hugged his perfect physique. He was leaning against the wall with his overcoat draped over his shoulders, his cold, beautiful eyes casually sweeping over me before landing on his own shoes. He exuded an air of absolute aristocracy. I admit it, my heart skipped a beat. He fit my image of the perfect man completely. Rich, gorgeous, and talented. I lowered my head to compose myself, and then his deep, smooth voice drifted over. “Aren’t you cold?” I looked up to see him handing me his heavy overcoat. My heart went into overdrive, pounding against my ribs like a motor. I stared at his perfectly sculpted lips, totally starstruck, and mumbled, “Is this… for me?” His face remained impassive. “Who else? A ghost?” I looked around frantically, searching for cameras. I didn’t dare start a rumor with a superstar of his caliber; his rabid fanbase would tear me to shreds. He sighed. “There are no cameras here.” I carefully took the coat and wrapped it around myself. Carter lit a cigarette. The white smoke swirled around him, making him look like a mysterious prince in the dark. We stood there in silence for ten minutes before I handed the coat back to him. Strangely, after that night, I started running into him everywhere. If it wasn’t at industry events, it was at hotels. We slowly got to know each other. He invited me to a music festival, and I agreed. That night, half-drunk and flushed, I knocked on his hotel room door. “Carter Sterling. Be my boyfriend.” Yeah, I was that bold. I wasn’t going to let a perfect man slip away. I had to try. Through my blurry vision, I thought I saw a flash of smug satisfaction in his eyes before he softly replied, “Okay.” I froze, not knowing what to say. It was that easy? He pulled me forward, and I stumbled into his arms. His soft, warm lips covered mine. The crisp scent of cedar mixed with a faint hint of tobacco rushed into my senses, and I completely forgot how to resist. The hormones of new love have a way of making you lose your mind. Chapter 3 We started dating. By unspoken agreement, neither of us made it public. When Valerie found out, she tore me a new one. She said I could mess around with anyone, but never Carter Sterling. The capital behind him was immense; a small-time actress like me couldn’t afford to cross him. When he got bored and tossed me aside, I’d lose everything. But love had blinded me. I didn’t care. What was the worst he could do, eat me alive? Besides, I never expected to marry into his billionaire family anyway. As long as I had him for a while, I’d be happy. I didn’t realize that missing someone could become a physical ache, even after knowing they’re garbage. The Sterling family was a dominant force in New York, with their hands in multiple industries, including entertainment. Carter was their only son and the definitive heir. He just happened to like acting, so he played around in Hollywood. Now, I believed Valerie. You do not mess with Carter. When disaster hasn’t hit you yet, it’s easy to brush it off. The morning after our breakup, I opened my phone to a headline: “Carter Sterling Spotted with Mystery Non-Industry Girlfriend on Valentine’s Day!” I stared at the paparazzi photo of him and Chloe laughing together, and my heart clenched. So much for “stuck on set.” That evening, my livestream was popping. The chat was flooded with “Blair is amazing!” and “So gorgeous!” I had just played a very likable supporting role in a hit drama, moving me from a nobody to a rising star. I kept glancing at the clock, wondering when I could log off. My stomach was violently rolling. The next second, I gagged right at the screen. “I’m so sorry, my stomach has been acting up,” I quickly apologized. If I didn’t, the haters would come for me. “Is Blair okay?” “Poor thing!” “Ugh, I hate actors who fake being sick for attention.” I kept bowing and thanking the supportive comments, praying I wouldn’t dry-heave again. Back in the dressing room, I pulled out my phone and saw Carter’s text. Seeing his name made me furious. I fired back: “I’m fine. Just thinking about you makes me sick.” The moment it sent, I regretted it. Would he retaliate? Would he have me blacklisted? Probably not. He wasn’t that petty. My head was spinning and I felt completely drained, so I headed straight home. When I flipped on the lights in my apartment, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Carter was sitting on my couch like a stone statue. “Are you trying to scare me to death so you and your childhood sweetheart can live happily ever after?!” A smug smile touched his lips. He walked over slowly, trapping me against the wall, and whispered, “So that’s why you’re mad?” I rolled my eyes and started listing his crimes. “You lied about being on set. You went to dinner with her, got photographed by the paparazzi, and you expect me to play the fool? I’m done playing with you, Carter. Get out and go find your little princess.” He affectionately ruffled my hair, his voice gentle. “Blair, we really are just friends. I was working. She just landed at the airport and couldn’t get a ride. You know we grew up together, so I picked her up and we grabbed a quick bite. That’s it.” I was even angrier now. Oh, so I was the unreasonable one? A rich socialite couldn’t get a ride from the airport? My voice went ice-cold. “I see. So you just love drinking her poison, huh?” He blinked. “What? I prefer whiskey.” “…” My stomach churned again. I pushed past him and ran to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the sink. Carter gently rubbed my back, his voice anxious. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” “No. I just need to sleep.” After rinsing my mouth, I curled up on the couch. He sat beside me, blowing on a mug of hot water. The quiet domesticity was broken by his phone ringing. “Chloe, what’s wrong? Don’t panic, I’ll be right there.” He hung up, looking guilty. He pulled a blanket over me. “Chloe got into a fender bender. I have to go sort it out. I’ll be right back. Get some sleep.” He hurried out the door. I stared at his retreating back, my heart seizing violently. “Carter Sterling!” I screamed at the door. “If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!” He didn’t turn around. Chapter 4 I felt too awful to sleep. Lying in bed, scrolling through my phone, a sudden thought struck me. I checked my calendar. My period was late. Panic seized me. I threw on a hoodie, grabbed a mask, and ran to the 24-hour pharmacy. Ten minutes later, I was crouched on the cold bathroom tiles, staring at two glaring red lines on the stick. My limbs went numb. “God, please tell me this is a joke.” I was in a daze all night. The next morning, I showed up to work with massive dark circles under my eyes. Valerie took one look at me and let loose. “Blair, do you want to ruin your career?! Look at your face! You’re yellow, and you look like a raccoon!” “I’m sorry, Val. I didn’t sleep well,” I mumbled, lacking the energy to fight back. “Alright, just push through. We have the charity gala tonight. We’ll leave early.” She patted the back of my head, her tone softening. Valerie was tough, but she actually cared about me. I glanced at my phone. A text from Carter: “Blair, wait for me at home tonight.” He was always like this. He never thought his actions were wrong. He always thought he was right, and that I had no right to be angry. I already told him we were broken up! But to him, it was like nothing had happened. Beneath that cold exterior, Carter was just an arrogant, thick-skinned man-child. He used to come to my apartment, complain about his private chef, and demand I cook for him. He’d tell me not to get any ideas about marrying him because I was “too nagging.” When I got mad, he’d accuse me of causing drama and give me the silent treatment. I never brought up marriage. Neither did he. I always knew we were from two different worlds. But sometimes, when he slept beside me, and I watched his peaceful face, feeling his arm subconsciously tighten around me… I couldn’t help but fantasize about forever. I ignored his text. He walked into my dressing room while I was reading a script. I decided not to tell him about the baby. But an abortion meant a week of bed rest, which meant I’d have to find a way to tell Valerie. He walked over, sat next to me, and rubbed my hair. “Tomorrow is my family’s annual gala. You’re coming with me.” I kept my eyes on the script. “I don’t want to go. I’m not feeling well. Take your little princess. We’re over anyway. Give me back my keys.” He was silent for a few seconds before saying casually, “If you don’t go, I’ll have you blacklisted from the industry.” I glared at him. He looked incredibly smug. Evil corporate tyrant. Valerie was right. I stood up, too tired to argue. “Just push through,” his voice trailed after me. “I have a surprise for you.” Chapter 5 Out of sheer lack of options, I went. I felt awful the entire week. Damn you, Carter. It was a boring, stuffy high-society event. There was no surprise. “You lied to me again,” I muttered, stabbing a piece of cake at my table, cursing him a thousand times in my head. Chloe Vance strutted toward me in her designer heels. I looked away, trying to ignore her. “Ms. Mitchell. You’re here?” her sweet, saccharine voice rang out. She used my name, so I couldn’t hide. I gave her a polite, tight smile. “Can I help you?” “I heard acting is so exhausting. Yesterday at Carter’s house, Mr. Sterling was saying how entertainers are so unpresentable. He made it very clear that Carter would never be allowed to marry an actress. It must be so hard being you, Ms. Mitchell.” Bitch. She was finally showing her true colors now that Carter wasn’t around. She wanted to mock me to my face? She picked the wrong girl. “I’ve heard Carter talk about how refined you are, Ms. Vance,” I said smoothly, taking a sip of my sparkling water. “But to be honest, I can smell the fake snake on you from a mile away.” It took her a second to process the insult. When she did, her face twisted in rage, and she raised her hand to slap me. In a room full of elites, I wasn’t going to brawl. I simply stepped to the side. Her hand, suspended in mid-air, suddenly changed direction. She grabbed a piece of cake from the table, smeared it on her own face, knocked over a tray of champagne, and started screaming. “Ms. Mitchell, why did you hit me?! Is it just because Carter and I had dinner?!” The commotion drew a horde of paparazzi, their camera flashes blinding me. She set me up. Carter appeared out of nowhere. Seeing the mess, his brows furrowed. He immediately yelled for security to lock down the room and kick the reporters out. Then he helped Chloe off the floor. He looked at me, furious. “Blair, what are you doing?” Oh, so he was blaming me. I held my ground. “She fell on her own. It has nothing to do with me.” “Carter, don’t blame her,” Chloe sobbed. “She just pushed me by accident. I’m fine.” “Blair, apologize to Chloe,” Carter said. His voice was low, but his eyes were burning. I stepped forward and slapped Chloe across the face. Hard. The entire room gasped. If I was going to be framed for it, I might as well get my money’s worth. “Blair! What the hell are you doing?!” Carter roared. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ms. Vance,” I mocked. “You wanted me to apologize, Carter? There. I apologized.” Giant tears rolled down Chloe’s pale cheeks. Any man would feel bad for her. I turned on my heel to leave. Carter grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Stop causing a scene! Apologize to her properly!” I looked straight into his furious eyes. “Never.” He yanked my arm, trying to pull me toward Chloe. I struggled violently. Suddenly, his grip slipped. I flew backward, my spine slamming brutally against the edge of a heavy mahogany chair. Panic flashed across Carter’s face. He rushed forward to catch me, but I violently swatted his hand away and stumbled out of the ballroom. Something inside me felt like it had shattered. A dull, agonizing pain spread through my entire body. In the cab, my lower abdomen cramped so hard I thought I was dying. I told the driver to take me to the ER. Looking at the ultrasound monitor, I saw the tiny flicker for the first time. The doctor said the baby was fine and had a strong heartbeat. “Can I terminate it?” I asked coldly. “You need to think this through. Where is your husband? Your uterine lining is extremely thin. If you terminate this pregnancy, it is highly unlikely you will ever be able to conceive again.”

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I married my childhood friend, but everyone says his “white moonlight”—his ultimate, unattainable crush—isn’t me. On our wedding night, I tactfully moved to the living room. He ripped off his towel. “What’s wrong with me? Why won’t you even look at me?” 1 [First night of marriage, what do I do if my husband, who has a ‘white moonlight’ ex, tries to seduce me? Waiting online, it’s pretty urgent.] I nervously typed these words on my screen. We had laid everything out clearly before the wedding: this was a business merger. We just needed to play the part of a loving couple in front of our parents. In private, we’d live our separate lives. Neither of us would interfere with the other. Besides, wasn’t there a rumor going around at the reception that his white moonlight was about to return? Please don’t have an episode now. I was still waiting to inherit double the family fortune! I begged him silently. [Shocking! Billionaire Secrets Revealed! Real-Life Succession Drama! Heiress Sacrifices Herself for the Company?] [Let’s go live to the scene. Our reporter brings you this exclusive scoop.] Pfft. Just one misstep from Carter tonight, and I’d already written tomorrow’s headlines for him. “Knock, knock, knock!” The sound interrupted my thoughts. “What is it?” “Come out for a second. I need to talk to you.” His cool, detached voice was exactly my type. Honestly, I was a little tempted. I have to admit, Carter had both the looks and the brains, and his voice was incredibly unique. At the very least, when he read me bedtime stories, that steady baritone could knock me out in five minutes flat. Being able to put me to sleep that fast—from childhood to adulthood, only Carter could manage it. And his body… it was pretty tempting too. But as a premium SVIP member of the “Observer’s Club,” I was quite satisfied with the unexpected scene I had just witnessed. Yielding to his tyrannical aura, but worried about any further “accidents,” I tremblingly hid behind the door, opened it just a crack, and peeked my head out. “What’s up? Spit it out.” Carter laughed out of sheer frustration. The seductive charm from earlier was gone. It seemed the cold shower had been very effective. “Chloe, do I really have zero appeal to you?” 2 Of course not. It was just that I had been through too much, and the temptation of a fifty-billion-dollar fortune was just too great. I was immune for now. Since I was little, my greatest defense against him was simply ignoring him. It wasn’t like he dared to do anything to me anyway. “Get to the point. Don’t make me lose my perfect attendance bonus.” I rolled my eyes at him ungracefully, picking at my fingernails out of boredom, leaning lazily against the doorframe, waiting for him to continue. “I have something going on tomorrow, so I’ll be back late. Next week, I’m taking you to meet someone.” Whether you come back or not is none of my business. You’re acting like no one else has things to do tomorrow. Wait? Next week? Rumor has it that’s when his white moonlight is coming back. The new flame meeting the old flame? Are we just skipping straight to the catfight? Wow~ What a classic trope: the white moonlight returns, and the official wife steps down in heartbreak. I’d love to watch that drama unfold. The premise being, it doesn’t involve me. Even though he and I had years of experience as childhood friends… But… damn it, I had no idea what this guy was planning. One second it’s a midnight seduction, the next he’s taking me to meet his white moonlight. You could never guess what kind of crazy stunts went on inside his head. I was completely bewildered. What to do? Just agree with whatever the guy says, of course. “Sounds good! Mission accepted! I’ll be there right on time.” I agreed first to placate Carter, then quickly spun around, exited the room, and locked the door in one smooth motion. “Chloe, go to sleep. I’m checking your screen time tomorrow.” “Alright, alright, I know!” 3 Carter and I grew up together. We weren’t incredibly close, but we weren’t enemies either. It was nothing like those cliché childhood-friends-to-lovers tropes you read about. He didn’t like me. He had a white moonlight he’d been pining over for years. The ironic part? I had liked him, but sadly, I didn’t have a white moonlight of my own. If you were given a choice: marry someone you used to like, and if either of you cheats or gets caught acting inappropriately with someone else, the other party has the right to take action and inherit all of their shares. Would you be willing? I certainly would. After all, this was a high-stakes gamble I was guaranteed to win. The reward was beyond imagination, and the ending was already written. Actually, I had heard from people in our circle that his white moonlight was coming back to him. Exactly one week after our wedding. So, inexplicably, we got married. It just so happened that we ran in the same circles, were the same age, and had known each other since childhood. No need to worry about bad habits or hidden diseases. It was just a pity that no one seemed to have asked Carter if there was someone he actually liked. We were naturally paired up, skipping the dating phase and heading straight for the graveyard of marriage. Childhood friends. It felt like a bond, but more like a ball and chain. Fortunately, my dear mother was very understanding. To protect my interests, the parents had a sit-down. The resulting agreement stated that if either of us cheated or filed for divorce after marriage, the other would automatically inherit their shares. Damn, manipulated again. But my heart fluttered. Inheriting billions for free? Only an idiot would say no. Carter had a white moonlight, and a heavyweight one at that, ready to return. And me, a confirmed bachelorette? Victory was practically waving at me. For the sake of financial freedom, charge! 4 At the grand and lavish wedding banquet Carter threw for me, I shamefully felt a flutter in my heart once again. The boy I played house with when we were kids was now my husband. But before I could even immerse myself in the warmth of the moment, whispers drifted over from a corner. “Hey, didn’t they say the young Mr. Crawford had an unforgettable white moonlight? Is this the wife? They actually look pretty good together.” “Shh, don’t talk nonsense. Isn’t this just a business merger? I heard he always just treated her like a sister.” “Hey, hey, hey, about that white moonlight… I heard she was the girl who lived next door to him when they were kids.” “Later, her family’s business had some issues, and they emigrated overseas, but apparently she’s coming back soon.” “Then… what about the wife?” “It’s a business marriage. That’s how things work in our circle, you know how it is.” My gaze froze. I really wanted to rip the mouths off those gossiping women. Even outsiders knew. It was a successful reminder of my actual place in all this. So, on the first day of our marriage, I very sensibly moved my things out of the master bedroom. 5 This apartment was the one under my name that was closest to my company. Unfortunately, it was a bit small—a three-bedroom place. Just enough for one person and one cat. I had planned it all out: one room for my beloved cat, one for me to sleep in, and one for storage. But Mrs. Crawford—Carter’s mom—efficiently packed up all of Carter’s things and dumped them here. I didn’t even need to ask to know it was her best friend, my dear mother, who tipped her off. Seriously, it wasn’t a big apartment to begin with. Where was he supposed to sleep? But Mrs. Crawford just smiled, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re newlyweds! Of course you should live together. Who lives apart right after getting married? “Didn’t we agree? Unless one party violates the agreement, isn’t fulfilling marital duties and living together a basic requirement?” I could only feel a twinge of resentment and silently pray that the white moonlight would return soon to save my life. I was just about to go make do in the guest room, but I found it stuffed full of junk by our two mothers. There wasn’t even room to stand. I have to admit, Mrs. Crawford and my mom were truly best friends. Their minds worked in perfect sync. What teamwork. What synergy. But it was useless against me. After all, what man smells as sweet as money? Only a fool turns down money, especially when you can inherit a double fortune. I definitely wouldn’t. Before my mom left, before her foot even crossed the threshold, she turned back and pulled me close, speaking earnestly. “Be a good girl. Go to bed early tonight. Less screen time, your eyes haven’t fully recovered yet! “I already told Carter to keep an eye on you. Be a good girl, okay?” It was true. I had just gotten LASIK surgery less than a week ago. 6 I usually nod along and then do whatever I want, but Carter was one step ahead. He set a rule for me: the next day, my screen time couldn’t exceed two hours. If I didn’t listen, he would call my mom. Seriously, the fact that he loves tattling is just… great. I was completely at his mercy. Time for bed. Posting on forums wasn’t urgent; staying alive was. I pulled the covers up, ready to sleep, but the moment I closed my eyes, all I could see was the scene from earlier. I had taken the initiative to move out of the master bedroom and settle for the living room. I never imagined Carter would go even further. Of all the things to do, why did he decide to try and seduce me? Why did he come to the living room, dripping wet, without drying off after his shower? With just a casual glance, I caught sight of crystal-clear water droplets tracing the deep V of his torso, sliding all the way down his waist and abdomen, disappearing into darker territory. He was like a Siren, unconsciously luring a lost traveler. I have to admit, the guy had some serious assets. It was just a pity they were hidden by the towel… Carter didn’t say a word. He made a beeline for me, grabbed my blanket, and started walking toward the master bedroom. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew it was serious. I quickly stepped forward to stop him, accidentally knocking his hand away from the blanket. The blanket slipped from his grasp, but I didn’t care. Carter looked a bit shocked. He stared blankly at the blanket on the floor, but what happened next caught me completely off guard. He yanked open the towel, which was already tied loosely around his waist. For the first time, I heard a whiny, aggrieved, puppy-dog tone from him. “What’s wrong with me? Why won’t you even look at me?” His eyes were completely different from usual. The cold, distant look had vanished. All that remained was the steam from his shower, slowly spreading through his eyes. They were misty, as if the moment I rejected him, tears would start falling the next second. I was dazed for a half-second, but I couldn’t help obediently taking a few more looks. His abs were defined and tense, his chest wet, water dripping continuously from the ends of his hair. As the water droplets fell, a palpable aura of lust surged. Coupled with the dim night sky outside the window and the ambiguous atmosphere in the room, the seductive tension was dialed up to the max. What kind of person is this generous? Carter, wow… you really can’t judge a book by its cover. The ancients didn’t lie. 7 “Pretty good.” I looked at him, my expression playful but with a hint of sincerity. I swear, I had never been more sincere in my life. “It would be even better if I could touch it.” I blurted out. His hand reached for mine, leading it all the way down. An indescribable ambiguity spread through the air. Stop. We can’t go any further. I had a premonition that if I reacted even a second too slow tonight… the family fortune would float away. “J… just joking.” I was genuinely scared of him. I quickly broke free, stepped forward, and pulled his towel back up tightly. I also grabbed the blanket from the floor and wrapped him up securely in it. Only then did I let out a deep breath. Saved it. I will protect Carter’s chastity! Endless piles of cash were waving at me! I patted Carter, using both hands and feet to push him back toward the bedroom, my expression complex. “Go sober up, take a shower, and get some sleep.” “Slam!” That heavy sound was me almost getting hit in the face by the door, and Carter storming off and slamming it behind him. “Scheming man.” I snorted disdainfully and turned to tidy up the second bedroom. I couldn’t guarantee that Carter wouldn’t have another episode tonight. My dream life—sleeping until I naturally woke up every day, shopping with the girls during the day, hitting the clubs and checking out hot guys at night. Taking it a step further? Forget about it. 8 “Chloe, time to get up and go to the office.” The voice, devoid of much inflection, filled me with confidence for my upcoming plans. After all, feelings were nothing compared to this. A perfectly good mood was ruined the moment I heard Carter’s voice. It was morning again. Completely ignoring whether I was tired or not, the sun just decided to shine. Why are my eyes always filled with tears? Because I’m dead tired. When I arrived at the company, the first person I saw was my executive assistant, Liam, with his handsome face. It was easy on the eyes, but the moment he opened his mouth, he became the source of my misery. “Ms. Vance, here are the documents that need your signature today. Over here are the projects Mr. Vance instructed you to take over. Mr. Vance also asked me to remind you that there’s an auction this afternoon you need to attend on his behalf. “Mr. Crawford will also be there. Tomorrow… there’s also a…” Today was another day of my dad dumping his work on me. Looking sympathetically at my assistant, who was as hardworking as a little bee, I thought, Truly, a great value. I mentally gave a thumbs-up to my own excellent eye for talent back in the day. Liam pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. As his thin lips parted to continue, I quickly stopped him. “Liam, the usual rules. I’ll leave these to you.” I smiled slightly. A successful leader must learn to delegate power. After all, if there was too much, I wouldn’t be able to handle it anyway. I turned around gracefully, ready to get my outfit together for the auction. “Chloe, I just got off the plane. Guess who I saw at the airport?” My best friend sent me a text. Just as I was about to reply, she called me. “No way. You came back so early this time. Did your dad not give you extra work?” The words slipped out of my mouth. Every man for himself. It can’t just be me suffering. “Chloe, what’s that supposed to mean? I wanted to come see you as soon as I got back!” Mia’s voice was full of resentment, tinged with a little grievance. I felt a bit guilty and quickly spoke softly to her for a while until she let it go. Mia returned to normal, sounding mysterious. “Whatever, I’ll settle the score with you when I see you.” “Let’s ignore that for now. I’m telling you, I saw Carter at the airport!” “That’s normal. He has business trips lined up every month.” “He was there to pick someone up! And it was a woman! Ahhhhhh, did you hear me, girl? There’s definitely something going on with that guy!” 9 Picking someone up? I flipped through my calendar, double-checking. No way. I had specifically marked next week as—Inherit the Fortune (just kidding)—White Moonlight Returns. Could it be that God took pity on my miserable situation and decided to directly help me get rich and start my easy life? Who cares. My eyes lit up, and I held my phone like it was a precious treasure. “Baby, kisses! Thank you, my wonderful bestie, for helping me find a new direction in life.” “Babe, do you want me to come over and keep you company for a bit? I’ll go ask around…” Mia and I were both stunned for a moment. Damn it, interrupting my deep, affectionate performance that I’d been building up for so long. Before I could finish my act, she cut in, speaking quickly, “No way, are you okay?” I elegantly rolled my eyes and gave a wicked smile. “Stay right there, babe. I’ll send someone to pick you up.” After successfully picking her up, I asked Liam to take us to the auction venue. We walked in together, arm in arm, avoiding the people trying to come up and network, and headed straight for my private VIP box. “Spill it. You rich people… what’s going on with you and Carter? Didn’t you like him a lot when we were kids?” I have to admit, this private box was very well designed. It didn’t obstruct the view of the auction, but it also ensured privacy. Once the door was closed, it was an extremely private space. Not bad. I could learn from this design. I looked around the room, ignoring her question for the moment. I called Liam over and asked him who owned this venue. I learned a name that sounded vaguely familiar. The only daughter of the Montgomery family, who had just returned from abroad. Stella Montgomery.

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His mom smiled and said, “You two haven’t met yet, have you?” Met? In private, we used to make out until our lips were bruised. 1 I didn’t want to move a muscle over winter break, but my mom dragged me out for a walk in my thick sweatpants. We hadn’t walked far when my mom started waving at someone in the distance. She nudged me. “That’s my new coworker, Mrs. Davis.” I squinted. Standing next to Mrs. Davis was a guy with an incredible build and killer fashion sense. Probably her son. Was my romance-novel-loving heart finally getting its meet-cute? I poked my mom. “Is her son single? If he is, hook a girl up.” My mom flashed me an “OK” sign and pulled me forward to greet them. Mrs. Davis was beaming. “Out for a walk too? And this must be your mom?” I looked left and right, finally realizing the “mom” Mrs. Davis was referring to was me. My mom’s smile froze. “Oh, this is my daughter. She just got back for winter break, so she’s a bit dressed down. Haha.” The guy standing in the shadows wearing a black face mask let out a low chuckle. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. Mrs. Davis, looking equally mortified, quickly changed the subject. “I remember you saying your daughter is at the same college as my son. What year did she graduate?” “Oh, she graduated last year,” my mom replied. Mrs. Davis pushed the guy behind her forward. “What a coincidence! My son graduated last year too. Do you two know each other?” I finally looked up. The streetlight illuminated his sharp, deep-set eyes, the strong bridge of his nose, and the familiar little red mole on his neck… Holy crap. Is this my ex-boyfriend? Seeing us lock eyes, Mrs. Davis asked again, “So, do you know each other?” We answered in unison: “No.” And, as if perfectly choreographed, we both turned our heads away. But actually, Mrs. Davis, we didn’t just know each other. During our junior year of high school, we practically conducted our own anatomy classes together whenever we found an empty classroom. We were probably the two people who knew each other best in the world. Inside and out. While our moms chatted enthusiastically, he and I stood off to the side, the atmosphere so cold it could freeze over. Finally, Liam broke the silence. “Nice outfit. Very… avant-garde.” I stomped on his foot. He let out a muffled groan. Mrs. Davis turned around. “What’s wrong?” Liam gave a faint smile. “Nothing. A little stray dog walking by just stepped on my foot.” “Oh, as long as you’re okay,” she said, returning to her conversation. Liam called out to her, “Mom, we should get a dog. I’ll train it. I’ll teach it exactly how to be a good, obedient girl.” He was talking to his mom, but his dark eyes were fixed dead on me. “I barely have the energy to deal with you, let alone a dog,” his mom scoffed. She turned to me, beaming. “Chloe, you two should exchange numbers! You live in the same city now; you can look out for each other.” Liam, with a half-smile, pulled out his phone and opened his contact-sharing screen. Under the eager gazes of our mothers, I pulled out my phone and reluctantly scanned his screen. The guy I had blocked years ago reappeared in my messages. The last texts from our blowout fight were still sitting there. He had said: “Fine. Walk away then. See if I care.” I had replied: “Watch me. I’ll find someone ten times better than you. Go to hell.” A stark contrast to the good-girl image I was currently portraying. Seeing my mom lean over, I quickly locked my screen and played sweet. “Got it! If I ever need anything, I’ll be sure to bother Liam.” He repeated it under his breath. “Bother Liam.” He actually laughed, a deep, pleasant sound. “Anytime… Chloe.” The way he said my name—low and clear—was exactly how he used to say it when he pinned me against the back door of our high school classroom, keeping an eye on the broken security camera while he kissed me. My heart skipped a dangerous beat. 2 My mom told me to keep an open mind about Liam. She said our parents knew each other, so it was a safe bet. I rolled my eyes internally. Open mind? I know every inch of that guy. I’m sick of him. I said, “Sure, sure,” while secretly opening my phone to send Liam right back to the blocked list. The next day, however, I got a call from an unknown number. It wasn’t Liam. Heavy bass thumped in the background. “Hey, Chloe? Liam is trashed. You need to come pick him up from the Neon Lounge. VIP Room 19. Hurry.” Click. I tried calling back, but no one answered. They didn’t even give me a chance to say no. Liam, you absolute bastard. I cursed under my breath, threw on my puffer jacket, and drove to the lounge. Liam was completely wasted. Empty beer bottles and shot glasses littered the table in front of him. When I pushed the door open, I recognized a bunch of the guys. They were Liam’s high school frat-bro buddies. Back when we were secretly dating, they were our cover story. Seeing me, the guys erupted in cheers. “Hey, sister-in-law!” I glared at them. “We broke up years ago. I’m nobody’s sister-in-law.” They just snickered. The guy leading the pack shoved a plastic hotel key card into my hand. “Look, we’re a bunch of clumsy idiots. We booked him a room upstairs. We’re leaving him in your capable hands!” “I’m not taking him,” I said, kicking Liam’s shoe. He didn’t even flinch. Wow, he really is gone. I paused for a two seconds, an evil prank forming in my mind. “Fine. Help me carry him upstairs.” The guys laughed like hyenas. As they closed the hotel room door behind us, one of them actually poked his head back in. “Hey, you need us to run to the pharmacy for some… protection?” I cursed him out in my head but smiled sweetly. “No thanks. Get lost.” The room fell quiet. Liam was sprawled on the bed, his collar unbuttoned, looking incredibly peaceful. I turned on every single light in the room. I pinched his cheeks. Hard. He still didn’t wake up. Perfect. Time for revenge. I pulled a bright red lip tint from my purse and lifted his shirt. I was going to draw a giant, ugly turtle right across his abs, post it to my story, and let the world admire the former homecoming king. I leaned down, uncapped the tint, and started drawing. Okay, there’s the shell… there are the legs… wait, abs? Why were his abs this defined? Shouldn’t a guy’s stomach be relaxed when he’s blackout drunk? I slowly looked up. Liam’s eyes were wide open, looking at me with a lazy smirk. “Chloe, this position is giving me some very inappropriate ideas.” My mind went blank. He continued, his voice rough. “You like the view? I sculpted them just for you.” I tried to play it cool and stand up. “They’re alright. My current boyfriend puts you to shame, honestly.” I didn’t have a boyfriend. Liam didn’t argue. His long arm suddenly shot out. Before I knew what was happening, my face was pressed flat against his bare stomach. Warm, firm, and entirely too familiar. “If they aren’t that great, why were you staring so long?” His voice was light. “Chloe, you’re just as stubborn as ever.” Crap. The red lip tint was now smeared all over my cheek. I pushed against his chest, but everywhere my hands landed felt electric. He let out a low groan. “Don’t move.” I froze. Liam sat up, grabbing my collar. I don’t know how he did it, but suddenly our positions were reversed. I was flat on my back. He was leaning over me. He used his thumb to wipe the red smudge off my cheek, chuckling. “Chloe, the only tough thing about you is your mouth.” I turned my head away, humiliated. “You faked being drunk!” Liam buried his face in the crook of my neck. I could feel the heat radiating off him. He laughed softly. “Feel that? If a guy is truly blackout drunk, certain things wouldn’t be waking up right now.” I shoved at his shoulders. “Get off me!” He effortlessly pinned both my wrists above my head with one hand. He looked down at me, his dark eyes shimmering, his smile dangerously gentle. “I drank a lot tonight, Chloe. You know I’m capable of doing crazy things when I’m drunk, right?” I knew exactly what he was like. His parents were workaholics who were never home. During high school, I was the one who took care of him. We never crossed the final line, but the memories of what we did do when he was half-drunk still made my legs weak. I struggled harder. Liam let out a low laugh. “Relax, Chloe. I’m not going to do anything. Just stay with me for a bit.” He kept his word. He let go of my wrists, pulled the duvet over us, and laid down next to me. He threw an arm over my waist. His breathing slowed until it was deep and even. He really fell asleep. I finally relaxed, turning my head to look at him. Even after all this time, looking at his face made my heart race. He was so incredibly handsome. But you absolute jerk, I thought bitterly. Why did you have to cheat on me? 3 On Friday, my mom called me in a panic from work. One of her junior associates was getting married the next day, and the maid of honor had just tested positive for COVID. I had a bad feeling. “And?” “And they need you to step in!” I didn’t even know the bride! My mom was just being a people-pleaser again. After my mom bribed me with the promise of paying my rent for the month, I caved. “Fine, I’m heading over for the dress fitting.” When I got to the bride’s house, she looked at me like I was her savior and shoved a dress into my arms. The original bridesmaid must have been a size smaller than me. I squeezed into the strapless chiffon dress, but I couldn’t reach the zipper in the back. I cracked the bedroom door open. “Can someone help me zip this up?” The hallway was chaotic with wedding prep. No one heard me. I went back into the room to try again. The door suddenly opened and closed. Click. The lock turned. I spun around. Liam walked in, wearing a sharp black tuxedo. He looked breathtaking. I stared at him. “What are you doing here?” “I heard you were filling in as a bridesmaid. So, I volunteered as a groomsman.” He paused. “Didn’t you need help?” I shifted awkwardly. “Yeah. The zipper is stuck.” Ziiiiip. He pulled the zipper all the way down instead of up. The cool air hit my bare back. I crossed my arms over my chest, jumping. “Pull it UP!” Liam offered a completely insincere apology. “My bad. Didn’t know.” He slowly pulled the zipper up, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of my spine. A shiver ran through me, hitting right at my heart. By the time it was zipped, a thin layer of sweat coated my forehead. Liam kept his hands on my shoulders. We stared at our reflection in the vanity mirror. The mirror had an ornate, vintage frame. He stood behind me in a tailored tux, and I stood in front of him in a white chiffon dress. For a dizzying second, it looked exactly like a wedding photo. Through the mirror, he met my eyes. “The wedding I dreamt about for us… it looked just like this.” Before I could answer, the bride knocked on the door. “Chloe? You got the dress on? Come out so we can run through the schedule!” I brushed his hands off and walked out without a word. The wedding the next day went smoothly. Until the reception. The groomsmen were passing around a tray of tequila shots. The groom, for some idiotic reason, gestured for me to take a shot on behalf of the bride to “protect” her. A massive shot glass was shoved in my face. I couldn’t refuse without making a scene. Just as I reached for it, a long, elegant hand reached over my shoulder and took the glass. Liam smiled, but his eyes were pure ice. “I’ll take it for her.” He threw it back in one gulp. Anyone with eyes could see he was pissed. The groom looked awkward; the bride glared at her new husband. Liam looked at the bride. “I’m borrowing your bridesmaid.” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me away. Both of our parents watched in shock, but we were already out in the hotel corridor. Liam’s voice was tight with anger. “Why are you such a pushover around everyone else? Why can’t you be as stubborn with them as you are with me?” I tried to yank my hand back, but his grip was iron. He backed me against the mirror in the hallway restroom, tilting my chin up. His tone was fierce. “Look at your face! You’re already flushed. Your stomach is a mess, and you were about to down a shot of tequila? Are you crazy?” It was true. He never let me drink back in the day. There were times when I wanted to take things further, but he always held back. He cared about my body more than he cared about his own desires. But… I looked at him. “Who are you to lecture me? We broke up years ago. Did you forget?” He frowned. “I never agreed to it. Besides, your mom said you were single.” The memory of the text message I received during our cold war flashed in my mind. A photo of Liam sleeping, with a perfectly manicured girl’s hand stroking his cheek. Suddenly, I was just exhausted. “Stop bothering me, okay?” I pushed past him and walked out. Liam pressed his lips together, following right behind me. “I’m going to win you back, Chloe. I’m not letting you go that easily.” 4 My younger cousins dragged me to a car camping spot in the mountains. “It’s going to be a clear night!” my little cousin squealed. “We’re going to see so many stars! Maybe even a meteor shower!” The campsite was beautiful. Cars and SUVs were parked around a large central fire pit where everyone was mingling. We grabbed some folding chairs and joined a group playing “The Dare Card.” It was a random draw game. Whoever drew the King got to command two other numbers to do a dare. “Number 1 hug Number 2,” things like that. The college kids playing were wilder than my friends used to be. The current King ordered two guys to hold water in their mouths and stare into each other’s eyes. They broke character in two seconds and spit water everywhere. I was laughing so hard I had to lean on my cousin. Suddenly, a group from across the fire walked over and asked to join. I froze. The guy in the black North Face jacket and grey beanie… Liam? How is he everywhere? He saw me, but acted completely indifferent, taking a seat casually across the circle. He shuffled the deck, his long, nimble fingers moving flawlessly. It brought back far too many memories. My heart hammered. I decided to escape. Just as I stood up, the new King shouted, “I command the Jack of Diamonds and the Ace of Hearts! Do push-ups together! Face to face!” Everyone checked their cards. A feeling of impending doom washed over me as I flipped my card. Crap. Jack of Diamonds. “Who is it? Who is it?” the crowd chanted. I raised my hand stiffly. “I’m the Jack.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam whisper something to the guy next to him. Then, Liam stood up, holding up a card. “I’m the Ace.” I obviously wasn’t going to expose him for swapping cards. Honestly, doing a dare with Liam felt slightly less terrifying than doing it with a total stranger. When he stood up, the crowd went absolutely feral. My little cousin poked my ribs. “Oh my god, Chloe! He is SO hot! Look at him, he definitely has the stamina for this! You scored!” Watching Liam walk toward me step by step, my legs turned to jelly. “How many push-ups?” Liam asked the King. His tone was classic Liam. Arrogant, confident, bordering on cocky. The King, a fratty-looking guy, took the bait. “Fifty. Can you handle that?” Liam scoffed lightly. “Easily.” I wanted to cry. I can’t handle that! If Liam was doing push-ups over me, I’d probably start shaking by number five. But there was no backing out. I was pushed to the center of the circle. Just as I was about to lie down on the dirt, Liam spoke up. “Hold on.” He took off his thick jacket and laid it flat on the ground for me to lie on. The crowd erupted in a chorus of “Awwwwws.” I lay down. Liam positioned himself over me. He started his push-ups. Every time he lowered himself, our faces were inches apart. I could smell the faint scent of campfire and cedar. Liam’s scent. The crowd chanted loudly. “One! Two! Three! Four!” His arms were planted on either side of my shoulders, his shadow completely engulfing me. I couldn’t see the starry sky anymore; I could only see the intensity in his eyes. When they shouted “Nine!” he whispered, “Stop looking at me like that.” My brain was buffering. “Huh?” He shifted his weight to one arm, used his free hand to pull off his beanie, and dropped it right onto my face. The hat completely covered my eyes. I heard a low, raspy chuckle. “I’m going to lose my self-control.” With my vision gone, my other senses heightened. I could feel the heat radiating off him. Every time he lowered himself, his lips would just graze the side of my neck or the corner of my mouth. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst. Thank God the crowd was screaming and cheering, drowning out the sound of my ragged breathing. By thirty-seven, Liam hadn’t slowed down at all. He wasn’t even out of breath. My cousin’s voice echoed in my head: He definitely has the stamina. Yeah. No kidding. Forty-seven. Almost over. I let out a breath of relief. Suddenly, the whistling boom of fireworks echoed across the valley. The counting stopped. Bright flashes of light bled through the fabric of the beanie. The hat was suddenly pulled off my face. I saw the sky exploding in colors, and then I saw Liam’s eyes, brighter than any firework. Then, my world went dark again as Liam crashed his lips onto mine. The vibrant colors faded into the background. The wind swept through the dry grass. Everyone else had run toward the edge of the campsite to watch the display. In the shadows, completely unobserved, the boy I used to love wasn’t watching the sky, and he certainly wasn’t finishing his penalty. He was leaning over me, using the beanie to block our faces, kissing me over and over again. 5 The fireworks ended. The push-ups were done. The heat of his lips still lingered on mine. Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of resentment washed over me. I shoved Liam off and stormed away. The crowd looked confused. Liam didn’t even grab his jacket; he just chased after me. One of his buddies yelled, “Liam, where are you going?” Liam didn’t miss a beat. “Chasing a girl. Mind your business.” I heard my cousin go, “Ooooh!” and then actually yell, “Good luck, future brother-in-law!” Traitor. I finally found a quiet, secluded spot by the edge of the woods and sat down heavily on a log. Liam was right behind me, staring at me silently. I covered my face with my hands, not wanting him to see my tear-filled eyes. “Stop looking at me. Just leave.” He dropped to his knees, pulling me into a fierce hug, pressing my face into his chest. “Call me shameless, but I don’t care,” he whispered. “Chloe, I can’t let you go.” The familiar embrace, the warmth I had missed for so long… but it didn’t belong to me anymore. The suppressed anger finally exploded. I pushed him away with all my strength. “If you couldn’t let me go, why did you cheat on me?!” Liam froze, completely bewildered. “Me? Cheat? You were the one who walked away!” I pulled out my phone, scrolled to the screenshot I had saved for years, and shoved it in his face. Seeing that delicate, manicured hand resting on his sleeping face sent a fresh stab of pain through my chest. Liam stared at the photo. “What the f*ck is this?” “You were always popular,” I choked out. “I knew guys were unpredictable. But I never thought you’d actually betray me…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Liam looked at me intensely. “Why didn’t you come to me with this?” Back then? We were in the middle of a massive fight. I was too proud to beg for an explanation. Whoever panics first loses. I texted him that we were over, and true to form, he didn’t try to stop me. Wasn’t that proof enough? In the adult world, you don’t need a screaming match to know it’s time to move on. Liam slammed his fist into the trunk of a nearby tree. His voice trembled with rage. “You blocked me on everything! I went to your best friend, Madison, to check on you, and she told me you were already hooking up with some older guy from your college. I had no idea this photo even existed. I thought you had just moved on.” “Madison said that?” I asked, stunned. “Who is the girl in the picture then?” Liam pulled out his phone in frustrated panic and dialed a number. “Stella, get your ass to the Grand Point campsite right now. I don’t care what you’re doing. Now!” Thirty minutes later, a gorgeous girl who looked striking similar to Liam hopped out of an Uber. It was Stella, Liam’s older sister. She was loud, overly affectionate, and impossible to hate. Stella explained that she had come home from a party completely trashed years ago. She grabbed someone’s phone from the counter—she thought it was hers—and mass-texted all her friends to brag about how cute her little brother looked sleeping. She had no idea she had sent it to me from Liam’s phone. She held out her hands. The Cartier ring on her index finger and the tiny red mole on the back of her hand were identical to the photo. Stella sighed dramatically, wrapping an arm around my waist. “My sweet, beautiful Chloe. You aren’t going to let me suffer my brother’s wrath, are you? Forgive me?” She was too good at pleading. I nodded helplessly. Stella flitted away like a social butterfly, but before she left, she gave me a meaningful look. “Babe, woman’s intuition: your ‘best friend’ Madison is a snake.” Once Stella was gone, Liam and I stood alone in the dark. I hesitated. “So, this past year… have you…” Have you been with anyone else? Have you treated anyone the way you treated me? He answered immediately. “Dealing with you was exhausting enough for one lifetime. I didn’t have the energy for anyone else.” 6 I climbed back up into the rooftop tent. My cousin was on the phone with her boyfriend, being incredibly disgustingly sweet. When she hung up, she looked guilty. “Chloe… my boyfriend drove all the way up here to surprise me…” I knew that clingy phase well. She was a carbon copy of my past self. “Go on,” I sighed. “Don’t keep him waiting.” She scrambled to put her jacket on, pausing at the ladder. “The campsite is pretty safe, and there’s a panic button on your right. If you get scared, just hit the button!” Gee, thanks for reminding me I’m terrified. Once she left, I looked out the small mesh window at the night sky, listening to the wind howl through the trees. My hands went ice-cold. It was pitch black. Every horror movie I had ever seen about girls alone in the woods suddenly played on a loop in my brain. I tossed and turned, completely unable to sleep. My phone buzzed. Having forced me to unblock him, Liam sent his first text: “Are you alone in that tent?” How did he know? Was he watching my car? I typed back slowly: “Yeah.” He just called me directly. “Chloe.” He just said my name, nothing else. It reminded me of the time I went to a month-long summer academic camp in high school. He hadn’t seen me for weeks. He’d call me late at night, sounding pathetic, just whispering, “Chloe, Chloe.” He never said he missed me; he just said my name like a prayer. Just like tonight. It was nice. Having someone on the line made the darkness feel less suffocating. I heard the wind whipping against his phone. “Are you still here? Did you not go home?” Liam said, “Unzip the tent window.” I peeked out. He was standing right by my car, hands shoved in his pockets, looking up at me. The moonlight washed over him. He looked tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. He spoke with a lazy drawl. “I’m terrified of the dark and I think this place is haunted. Can I crash with you?” …I’m the one afraid of the dark. The moment Liam climbed in, the tent felt incredibly small. I wrapped myself tightly in a sleeping bag and shoved myself into the corner. He casually started taking off his layers. Jacket, sweater, shirt… Wait, shirt?! He caught me staring and slowly grabbed the hem of his undershirt. Good lord… I swallowed hard and lunged forward to grab his hands. “What are you doing?! It’s freezing in here.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m hot.” When I didn’t respond, Liam grabbed my wrists and pulled me flush against his chest, sliding his fingers against the fabric of my collar. “You’re sleeping in a turtleneck? Aren’t you suffocating?” His knuckles brushed my neck, sending a violent shiver down my spine. I begged softly, “We just cleared up years of misunderstandings. Can’t you give me a minute to process?” Liam said quietly, “Do you know what ‘rekindling an old flame’ means? Do you know what ‘making up for lost time’ means?” His tone was dark, like a predator cornering its prey. I tried to scramble backward, but he locked his arms around me. “Stop moving,” he commanded softly. “I’m just going to hold you.” Realizing the physical tension radiating off him, I froze completely. He let out a shaky exhale. “Chloe, when you left… all I could think about was the idea of another guy holding you like this.” “There wasn’t anyone else,” I whispered. After having a diamond, how could I settle for glass? He held me tighter. “I was so jealous of a guy who didn’t even exist. I went insane.” Liam didn’t push any further. Once his breathing returned to normal, he just held me. Even though I had been paralyzed with fear ten minutes ago, lying next to him made me feel incredibly safe. Exhaustion washed over me, and I drifted off to sleep. I dreamt of my seventeenth birthday. I was at that strict academic summer camp, studying late into the night. I got a text from Liam. He had jumped the campus fence in the middle of the night just to bring me a slice of cake. Just as he lit the candle, a security guard spotted the light. I panicked and tried to blow it out, but Liam refused. He made me make a wish first. I squeezed my eyes shut, made a wish, and blew out the candle just as the guard burst into the courtyard. Liam grabbed me, and we dove into the bushes, watching the guard’s flashlight sweep over our heads. The guard cursed, confiscated the cake, and walked away. I let out a sigh of relief, my heart pounding. As I tried to stand up, Liam pulled me back down into his arms. “I took a bite of the frosting before I got here,” he whispered. “Want to taste?” Before I could answer, he kissed me. It was sweet. Strawberry. … I woke up to the sound of cheering from the campsite. Disoriented, my brain was still stuck in that 17-year-old dream. Without thinking, I reached out and wrapped my arms around Liam’s neck. He went completely rigid. Reality crashed back in. I yanked my arms away. But Liam wasn’t letting me retreat. He backed me into the corner of the tent, his eyes dark and dangerous. “You don’t just grab me like that and not leave a tip,” he murmured. Outside, people were screaming, “A shooting star!” But inside, the small window of our tent was violently zipped shut. I didn’t see any shooting stars that night, but I definitely saw stars. I forgot how completely exhausting even his “restrained” affection could be.

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