My boyfriend had just gotten back from a business trip. Passion flared, and he held me in a flurry of desperate kisses, our bodies tangled together. Our clothes were halfway to the floor when a knock came at the door, and his friend walked right in, his voice laced with amusement. “Looks like I came at a bad time.” The voice was familiar. I looked up, and my heart stopped. The man stood there in a tailored suit, his features sharp and handsome. And when he saw my face, the smirk vanished, replaced by pure, unadulterated panic. 1. I was wearing nothing but my boyfriend Timothy’s white shirt, curled up in his arms as he tried to cover my bare legs from view. The man let out a low chuckle. “Protective, aren’t we?” The air in the room crackled with awkwardness. Timothy, still shirtless himself, scrambled to throw a jacket over me. He glanced down, saw the desperate plea in my eyes, and a grin spread across his face. He brushed his lips against my cheek. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “He’s a friend.” I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. I’d rather he be a burglar. A friend was so much worse. Thankfully, the man gave us an out. “I’ll wait for you guys downstairs. Hurry up.” His voice was so achingly familiar that I couldn’t stop myself from looking up again. All I saw was his back as he turned—a man in an expensive suit, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. Even from behind, he was perfection. He paused, as if sensing my gaze, and started to turn his head. Before I could see his face, Timothy pulled me back against his chest. “What?” I mumbled into his skin. “One more kiss.” The footsteps faded down the stairs. I pressed my foot against his chest. “Your friend is waiting. Stop messing around.” “Nope.” Timothy’s expression was all playful mischief as he grabbed my ankle. “I haven’t seen you in ages. What’s wrong with a little messing around? I’m going to mess around.” It had only been three days. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, lingering kiss. When he finally pulled away, I took a moment to steady my breathing before heading to the bedroom to change. He leaned lazily against the doorframe, watching me unabashedly as he took a call. “Yeah, Chris, we’re coming down. Hey, go easy on the jokes later. My girlfriend’s a bit shy. Don’t scare her.” I shot him a glare. He just grinned, walking over to zip up the back of my dress before taking my hand. “Let’s go, babe.” “Great,” I grumbled. “The legend of the shy girlfriend precedes me.” “What are you worried about? Chris’s a total clam. You can’t squeeze a word out of him.” He leaned in, his voice a low whisper in my ear. “I bet we could even do it right in front of him and he wouldn’t—” “Timothy!” I shoved him away, my face burning. He pulled me back, feigning an apology, but I could feel the laughter bubbling under the surface. “Baby…” Outside, a black sedan was parked in the driveway. A tall, slender man was leaning against the car, talking to the woman in the passenger seat. Timothy’s hand tightened possessively on my waist. “Who are you looking at?” The man heard us and turned around. His eyes landed on my face, and he froze. His gaze then dropped to where Timothy’s hand was linked with mine, and he froze again. My body went rigid. I followed Timothy’s lead and offered a stiff greeting. Chris didn’t respond. The woman in the car, Chloe, nudged him. “What’s wrong with you?” He shook his head, his eyes dazed. “I’m hallucinating.” Once we were in the car, Timothy rested his head on my shoulder, whispering in my ear. In the driver’s seat, Chris’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Chloe glanced at us in the rearview mirror. “Seriously, Timothy, you’re making me sick. All this lovey-dovey stuff is too much for a single woman to bear.” Timothy chuckled. “Still haven’t managed to win Chris over?” “Not a chance,” Chloe said, flipping her hair back with a dramatic flair. She pointed to a small gardenia-scented air freshener hanging from the mirror. “I’ve given up. I’m not as sentimental as he is. Still treasuring a gift his ex-girlfriend gave him ages ago.” My breath caught in my throat. My eyes met Chris’s in the mirror. They were a swirling mess of confusion and pain. My own heart felt like a tangled knot. I was the one who gave him that air freshener. But they were both wrong about one thing. I wasn’t his ex-girlfriend. And the person he was so hopelessly devoted to was someone else entirely. I quickly looked away. Timothy pulled me closer, playing a show on his phone for us to watch, occasionally leaning down to press a soft kiss to my eyelids. Suddenly, with a violent screech of tires, the car swerved and slammed into the guardrail. Everything was thrown into chaos. Timothy held me tight, shielding me with his body. I heard him let out a muffled groan of pain. I was about to ask if he was okay when Chloe’s panicked scream cut through the air. “Chris! Are you alright?” I looked to the front. The airbags had deployed. Chris’s head was covered in blood. He blinked slowly, his dark, inky eyes looking so incredibly wounded. He looked like a lost child who couldn’t find his way home. “Zoe,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Don’t you want me anymore?” 2. I had approached Chris with a purpose. In the grand story of this world, he was the second male lead. The one destined to silently love the brilliant heroine, Seraphina, from afar. In the end, he was supposed to get into a car crash on his way to find her, losing both his legs. And me? I was just a background character. But I loved him. Back in high school, Chris was a punk with a head of bleached-blond hair and too much restless energy. My grades were good, so his grandfather hired me to tutor him. Chris couldn’t stand me, but he didn’t dare defy his grandfather. Sometimes, he’d get bold, cornering me with his motorcycle and demanding I lend him some cash. I’d just pull out my calculator. “Did you already spend the money I gave you for breakfast this morning?” He’d stare at me, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? It was two bucks! I need gas for my bike. Do you have any idea how much gas costs?” He’d rev the engine for emphasis. “Do you know how much this bike costs?” So full of himself. I went straight to his grandfather. The next day, he was riding a bicycle to school, tenderly nursing his bruised ego and a sore behind. Chris wasn’t a bad person. In fact, he was kind of a dumbass. Sweet and simple. When I tried to teach him, he’d doodle in his notebook. When I’d fall asleep from exhaustion, he’d sneakily stick little star stickers on my face. One time, I woke up, my vision blurry, and saw his mischievous grin. “You’re really pretty, Zoe.” I was still half-asleep. I thought his eyes were stars. I reached out, touched his face, and laughed softly. “Chris, I like you so much.” He just blinked, muttering, “You always tease me like this.” “But do you like me?” He mumbled a quiet, “Yeah.” Liar. You said you liked me. But then Seraphina transferred to our school, and his attention was gone, captured by her in an instant. All I got from him was a dismissive, “Zoe, you’re just a friend to me.” His friendship wasn’t worth much. We hadn’t spoken in two weeks. For Seraphina, he had dyed his hair back to its natural brown and started dressing in crisp white shirts, looking deceptively clean-cut. Sometimes I’d look up from my textbooks and see him trailing behind her and the story’s male lead, Tristan. The two geniuses would deliberately ignore him, and he’d just stand there, head bowed, looking small and out of place. It still made my heart ache for him. So, when he showed up at my desk with his failed test and a bubble tea, I sighed. “You didn’t understand it, did you?” He nodded like a bobblehead. The idiot was finally motivated, but it was for someone else. I broke down the concepts for him, piece by piece, but I was still annoyed. I drew a little turtle on his test paper. Slow-poke Chris, you’re hopeless. He told me, his eyes shining, that Seraphina had promised to go on a date with him if he could score in the top ten of our grade. This was a kid who struggled to make the top ten in our class. I rolled my eyes. But I still organized all the study materials for him. I was an idiot, too. He worked incredibly hard, studying day and night. When his blood sugar dropped, he’d be in the nurse’s office with an IV drip in one arm, still scribbling notes with the other. When the results came out, all his effort hadn’t been enough. He sat alone on a bench outside the amusement park where he had planned to take her. He looked so lonely, so pitiful. The date he had planned so meticulously had only one guest: me. The one person who shouldn’t have been there. I sat with him until late into the night. It started to pour, and we just sat there like two fools, neither of us moving. Suddenly, he asked, his eyes filled with a wariness that broke my heart, “Zoe, do you still like me?” I wiped the rain from my face. “Get over yourself. See that guy?” I pointed randomly at a burly, bearded man in a suit taking shelter from the rain. “That’s my type.” I quickly lowered my hand, embarrassed. But he believed me instantly, a wave of relief washing over his face. “Oh. Well, thanks, Zoe. You’re my best friend.” I just nodded. Just then, his phone rang. It was Seraphina. His face lit up, and his voice became soft and gentle as he answered. He rushed off into the rain without a second glance at me. He never had time for me anymore. The rain blurred my vision. I tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. I was used to it. Ever since he fell for Seraphina, all he ever left me was his retreating back. The sky was dark. The streets were empty. I was chilled to the bone, walking for what felt like hours in the downpour. My phone rang. It was him, his voice bright and happy. “Zoe, it’s great news! Sera agreed to a make-up date! But she has one condition. She wants to borrow your set of review notes. Can I give them to her tomorrow?” It was loud on his end. I could hear the warm, happy sounds of a party in the background. They were celebrating Seraphina’s birthday. Rain had gotten into my phone, distorting the sound. It took me a moment to understand what he was asking. “Please, Zoe,” he begged. “You know how much this means to me. It’s the first time she’s ever agreed to anything.” I sniffled, my resolve crumbling as I typed out two pathetic words. “Okay.” “Thank you! I knew you were my best friend!” He laughed, finally happy, and hung up to go celebrate with the girl he loved. The warmth on his end of the line was cut off, leaving me alone in the cold, biting wind. 3. Chris had labeled me a friend, but I was never very good at playing the part. Anyone could see I was in love with him. Anyone except him. He chased after Seraphina with a single-minded devotion that made him insecure, sensitive, and increasingly silent. My heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand needles. I knew he would never win her love, just as I knew I would never have him look back at me. But I still held onto a sliver of hope, thinking I could somehow break the script. What if? What if the plot was forcing him? What if this wasn’t what he truly wanted? What if… what if he could actually be moved by me, even fall in love with me? Seraphina didn’t even like him. She called him an idiot behind his back. His only purpose in the story was to make the male lead, Tristan, jealous. A love story between two geniuses, and they needed my sweet, dumb Chris as a pawn. One day, he came to me, his eyes red-rimmed, and whispered, “Am I really that worthless? Am I not worth loving?” I gritted my teeth, my own anger flaring. “You’re amazing,” I told him firmly. “No one is better than you.” The reason I loved him was simple. When I transferred to his middle school, he was the only one who was nice to me. When I was accused of cheating, he stood up for me. When I was tripped during a track meet, he dropped the relay baton without a second thought and carried me to the nurse’s office. He was from a wealthy family but never acted like it. He was friends with everyone, a little ball of sunshine. I thought he was perfect. So perfect that when I found out he was just the second male lead, I was furious. Why did someone so good have to be a mere supporting character? After graduation, things took a turn. Seraphina, in a fit of pique after a fight with Tristan, accepted Chris’s confession of love. Chris was ecstatic, thinking he had finally won her over. A few days later, he walked in on the two of them, having made up, locked in a passionate kiss. His entire effort was a joke. They were playing him like a fool. Seraphina went back to ignoring him. Chris didn’t fight, didn’t argue. He didn’t even dare to ask why. He just retreated back into his shell. I brought over a six-pack of beer. He had a few days’ worth of stubble on his chin. He popped open a can, took a small sip, and grimaced at the taste. Then he tilted his head back and chugged the whole thing. “Feel any better?” He shook his head. I couldn’t stand it. I found Seraphina and Tristan and gave them a piece of my mind. It was the first time in my life I had ever yelled at anyone. A crowd gathered. Seraphina looked mortified. I was shaking with rage. And then he appeared, pushing through the crowd, and pulled me away. Me, the one fighting his battles for him. His eyes held no gratitude, only annoyance, shame, and a flicker of disgust. My anger died instantly. “Chris, don’t be mad.” His face was a cold mask. “You’re overstepping.” I thought he hated me. But the next day, when I went to see him, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. His eyes were closed. The faint, fruity taste of wine on his lips made my head spin. His voice was low and rough. “Zoe, don’t push me away.” In that moment, in my foolishness, I thought I had finally moved him. The same ridiculous idea he’d had about Seraphina. I held onto a shred of clarity, my hand trembling as I clutched his shirt. “Chris, are you starting to like me?” If he said yes, I would believe him. But he didn’t say anything. The hands holding me just trembled slightly.

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When the embassy ordered the evacuation, my parents only took two people. One was my sister. The other was the son who wasn’t theirs. My sister, Isabelle, was their little princess. They would never leave her in a war-torn country. The fake son, Julian, was the treasure they had raised since birth. They couldn’t bear to see him suffer. As for me, they offered hollow comfort. “You’ve always had it tough, Leo. This kind of thing is nothing for you. We’ll come back for you as soon as they’re safe.” I clung to that promise, waiting week after agonizing week in a foreign land. But the only thing that came for me was a stray bullet that tore through my heart. And as I lay dying, all I saw was the global press release celebrating Julian’s lavish birthday. In this new life, I didn’t wait. I boarded the smuggler’s ship myself. From now on, I would gamble everything on my own future and ask for nothing from a family that never wanted me. 1 When I finally made it back home, Julian’s extravagant coming-of-age party was in full swing. Journalists from all over the world had been invited to document the grand ceremony for the Ashworth family’s beloved son. The moment a camera turned to me, the chorus of praise and admiration died. My tattered clothes and face, streaked with grime, were a jarring stain on the opulent scene. The woman standing beside Julian saw me first. She froze. I opened my mouth to speak her name. She was my biological sister, Isabelle. For a fleeting moment, I thought she might finally remember the brother she’d left behind. Instead, she frowned, pushing me out of the camera’s view and into a secluded corner. “Who let you back in?” she hissed. “Showing up dressed like garbage… are you trying to ruin Julian’s party on purpose?” Julian glided over, a practiced smile on his face. “It’s alright, now that my brother is back… God, Leo, where have you been? What is that smell?” He pinched his nose, recoiling in disgust. Isabelle immediately shielded him, glaring at me with contempt. “We only left you overseas to broaden your horizons a bit. Do you have to be so dramatic and upset Julian?” My parents approached, their faces etched with displeasure. “Today is Julian’s eighteenth birthday! Don’t you know how long he’s been looking forward to this?” I said nothing. They seemed to have forgotten. If Julian and I were switched at birth, it meant that today was my birthday, too. I had spent the last several weeks crammed in a smuggler’s cargo container with dozens of other desperate people. The stench of sweat and fear was ground into my skin. I simply bowed, offered no explanation, and walked past them into the mansion. My quiet compliance seemed to frustrate them, like they’d thrown a punch that met only air. Isabelle, accustomed to my begging for her approval, grabbed my arm. “We just said a few words. What’s with the attitude? Don’t think we don’t know what’s going on. That country looks unstable, but it’s not even a real war. You would have been perfectly fine there for another year!” The phantom pain of the bullet that had pierced my heart in my last life seared through my nerves. I instinctively clutched my chest. My parents just rolled their eyes. “Oh, stop it! Cut the theatrics! So pathetic.” “You’re right,” I said softly. They all stared, stunned. I turned back to them and bowed again, a deeper, more formal gesture this time. “It was my mistake. I shouldn’t have returned from a conflict zone and interrupted my brother’s party. I shouldn’t have shown up looking so unpresentable after such a difficult journey. I was wrong. I’ll go change now.” This was not the me they knew. In the past, I would have cried, trying desperately to defend myself against their accusations. As I walked away, I heard my mother’s voice, sharp with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is he trying to be passive-aggressive with us now?” “Let it go, dear,” my father replied. “Julian’s party is what matters. I’ll have someone watch him. Make sure he doesn’t come out and bring his bad luck near Julian.” My hand tightened on the banister, my knuckles white. Then, I continued up the stairs. 2 After a long, hot shower, I opened my laptop and pulled up the Harvard admissions portal. My application had been accepted. A long, slow breath I didn’t realize I was holding escaped my lips. Before, I had hesitated. If I got in, how could I leave my family? I wasn’t hesitating anymore. There was just one problem: I had no money. Despite being born into a family that owned a Fortune 500 corporation, my entire existence had been funded by the scraps from Julian’s table. Still, what they considered scraps was more than most people saw in a lifetime. I counted my savings. I was five thousand dollars short. Later that night, after the last of the guests had departed, I presented my parents with a formally written IOU. “Five thousand dollars?” my father frowned. “What do you need that much money for?” “I’m an adult now, too. I’d like to see the world a little,” I said calmly. “Consider it a loan. I’ll pay you back with double the standard bank interest rate.” “Your main priority right now isn’t traveling, it’s getting into a decent college.” He took the IOU and, with deliberate slowness, tore it into tiny pieces. “Julian already has a guaranteed spot at UCLA; he can afford to relax. But you? We didn’t bring you back into this family just for you to embarrass us. I’ve already enrolled you in a tutoring academy. You will stay there until your college entrance exams.” He slid a business card across the table. I recognized the name. Just a few weeks ago, the academy had been in the news. A scandal involving tutors assaulting students. “I know it will be hard,” my father said, his tone dismissive. “But you’re mediocre at best. You might not even get into a community college without this. We have no choice.” He glanced at me, then his eyes fell on Julian, and his expression instantly softened into a proud smile. “Actually, Julian, forget UCLA. I’ve found something much better for you.” He handed Julian an embossed invitation. It was for a gala celebrating a five-hundred-million-dollar donation to an Ivy League university. “I made the donation in your name, son,” my father said, beaming. “You’re a man now. It’s time you learned to manage the family’s affairs. You’ll attend this university, and one day, this family’s legacy will be in your hands, and your sister’s.” Julian’s eyes widened. “Dad, I… can I really?” “Of course, you can,” Isabelle said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “And I’ll be there, too. I’ll look out for you.” The four of them shared a warm, happy hug. And I, the real son, stood on the outside, a ghost watching a happiness that would never be mine. The sharp rip of tearing cardstock broke the moment. They looked up, startled. I had torn the tutoring academy’s business card to shreds and dropped the pieces onto the pile of my destroyed IOU. “Leo! What is the meaning of this!” my father roared. I bowed slightly. “I cannot accept the Ashworth family’s charity. I will find my own way from now on.” Ignoring their sputtering rage, I turned and walked back to my room. That same day, I packed a small bag and left the estate for good. 3 I found a job that paid well but wasn’t exactly respectable. I became a waiter in an exclusive, high-end nightclub. With my departure date looming, I didn’t have the luxury of choice. I never expected that, just two weeks into the job, I would run into someone I knew. In one of the private suites, Julian was holding a bottle of champagne aloft, surrounded by two other men and a half-dozen giggling women. “That whole family is full of idiots,” he bragged, his words slurred. “Taking their fortune will be the easiest thing I’ve ever done!” Two of the women, perched on his lap, playfully stroked his chin. “Wow, you’re so impressive, Julian.” “Damn right,” he said, his hands roaming freely over their bodies. “My ‘father’ just donated five hundred million dollars to an Ivy League school in my name. With that kind of leverage, I guarantee you… I could probably kill someone on campus and the board of trustees would cover it up for me. The Ashworth empire? It’s going to be mine and my sister’s.” A strange, chemical sweetness hung in the air, sharp beneath the layers of perfume and spilled alcohol. I frowned, trying to place the smell, but my attention was pulled back to Julian, who was now messily kissing three or four of the women at once. I was so stunned by the scene that I didn’t notice one of his friends had spotted me in the hallway. The next thing I knew, I was yanked into the room and a foot slammed into my stomach, sending me to the floor. “Who the hell are you? Who sent you to spy on us? Talk!” A man with bleached-blond hair grabbed my collar, raising a bottle threateningly. Only Julian looked genuinely shocked. “Leo? What are you doing here?” Our eyes met. His face went white. “You were out there… the whole time?” 4 Before I could answer, the sound of approaching footsteps and familiar voices echoed from the hallway. Julian and I both froze. It was my father and Isabelle. They were talking with a business partner. I started to get up, but it was as if a switch flipped in Julian’s head. He scrambled out of the room, his face a mask of terror. “Dad! Isabelle!” “Julian?” Their voices were filled with surprise. “What are you doing in a place like this?” Tears streamed down Julian’s face. “I didn’t want to come! But I got a tip that Leo was in a private room with a bunch of women…” My father and sister’s eyes widened in disbelief. The door was kicked open. They stared in shock at the debauched scene, at the half-dressed men and women, and at me, standing frozen in the middle of it all. My father caught the strange, illicit scent in the air, and his face contorted with rage. A hard slap cracked across my face. “You worthless piece of trash! I wasted my life raising you!” Isabelle grabbed my shirt collar and slapped me again. “Look at you! Look at what you’re wearing! You are so goddamn cheap!” The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. I shoved her away. “I just work here!” The women in the room, sensing their cue, immediately played along. “He’s right,” one purred. “He’s our entertainment. We have a thing for the uniform.” My father and sister’s faces grew even darker. “Dad, Isabelle, I—” A brutal kick to my stomach cut me off, knocking the wind out of me. A cold sweat beaded on my forehead as I doubled over, every word caught in my throat. “You disgrace! If your mother saw you like this, how heartbroken do you think she’d be?!” My back hit the wall and I slid to the floor, completely drained of strength. My wallet, containing my pay card, slipped out of my pocket. Isabelle snatched it up. “What’s this?” she sneered. “Your earnings for the night?” She held the card between her hands and, with a sharp snap, broke it in two. “Get the manager in here! I want every cent this club has paid him refunded immediately!” “No!” My eyes flew open. That was everything I had earned in two weeks of grueling work. Ten more days, just ten, and I would have had enough. Now… it was all gone. My flight was booked. Where was I supposed to get five thousand dollars now? “Look at how pathetic you are!” The broken pieces of the card were thrown in my face. Isabelle draped a protective arm around Julian, looking at me as if I were garbage. “You can be trash if you want, but don’t you dare corrupt Julian.” My father shot me one last look of pure disgust. “We raised Julian to be a gentleman. If you drag him down with you, don’t blame me for what happens next.” That night, I was fired. With nowhere else to go, I went back to the mansion. It was empty. The staff informed me that Julian had been so “traumatized” by my “depraved” behavior at the club that the entire family had gone out for a special dinner to calm his nerves. Ignoring the servants’ pitying stares, I walked like a zombie back to my room, collapsed into bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, I woke up to a notification on my phone. A deposit had been made to my bank account. It was exactly five thousand dollars. 5 A message from my mother followed. 【Mom knows everything. I know you need money, but you should never resort to doing things like that.】 【Thank God Julian told us. You were heading down a very dark path.】 【Here is some money. If it’s not enough, just ask.】 【Dad and Mom still love you.】 I read the words and let out a soft, hollow laugh. I transferred the five thousand dollars right back to her account. I was done with this family. I wanted nothing more to do with them. After a full day of rest, my energy returned. I could earn the money again. Finding another job that paid as well would be difficult, but I knew I could find a way. I decided to leave for a different city first, to make sure they couldn’t interfere with my plans again. They returned while I was packing my bag. Isabelle saw me and sneered. “Don’t bother. You’re not invited on Julian’s graduation trip.” I paused and looked up. “Graduation trip?” “Don’t play dumb. How could you not know about Julian’s eighteen-country world tour? I know you want to go, but look at what you’ve done. Do you really think you deserve to?” A strange, cold feeling crept into my heart. “Does my brother get a world tour every year for his birthday?” My mother’s expression faltered. “Well… you were only recently welcomed back into the family. Otherwise, you would have had them too.” I didn’t say anything. They must have forgotten. I had been back for five years. Not “recently.” In all that time, I’d never even had a birthday cake. Every year, on Julian’s birthday, they completely forgot it was mine, too. Once, when I found out Julian was going on a trip, I had begged them to take me with them, just once. They finally agreed. And they dumped me in a war zone. The memories of my past life flooded back, and my hands moved faster, stuffing my few belongings into my bag. “I told you, you’re not coming! Why are you still packing?” Isabelle snapped, reaching to grab the bag from me. Julian quickly stopped her. “It’s okay, Isabelle. If he wants to come, let him. I don’t mind. After all…” his voice cracked, and he forced a brave little smile as his eyes welled up with tears, “…he’s your real family.” A wave of fierce protectiveness washed over Isabelle’s face. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, pulling him into a hug. “You will always be the only brother I will ever acknowledge.” Julian shook his head, his eyes red. “Don’t just say that to make me feel better…” “I swear it,” Isabelle said, her gaze intense. “Leo is a nobody. As soon as you get back from your trip, Mom and Dad are going to sign over half of the company’s shares to you.” Tears of joy streamed down Julian’s face. He threw his arms around Isabelle in a tight embrace. For a split second, Isabelle’s body went rigid. And in that moment, I saw it in her eyes—an emotion that was far too deep, too complicated, to be simple sisterly affection. “Since Julian agreed, you can come,” Isabelle said, her voice turning cold as she looked at me. “But you are not to go near him. I will be with him the entire time. Understand?” I nodded and continued packing. Of course, I wouldn’t go near him. I wasn’t going with them anyway. 6 Ten days later, the Ashworth family was packed and ready to depart. But they couldn’t find me anywhere. “What do you mean you can’t find him? Isn’t he still asleep in his room?” my father demanded, his voice tight with irritation. The head housekeeper looked uncomfortable. “Actually, sir… young master Leo hasn’t been home for ten days.” “What?!” my mother exclaimed. “That’s impossible!” She was the first to throw open my bedroom door. The room was pristine. All my personal belongings were gone. A thin layer of dust had already settled on the desk. There was no sign that anyone had lived there for days. “That little bastard!” my father exploded. “He’s throwing a tantrum because we scolded him! He was the one in the wrong, and he has the nerve to act out!” My mother’s voice was laced with disappointment. “We gave him the money, we told him he could come on the trip! What more does he want?” Isabelle scoffed. “He’s probably hiding somewhere, waiting for us to come find him. How childish.” “Ungrateful brat!” my mother said, turning on her heel. “Fine, let him play his games! Does he really think we’ll delay our trip for him?” The four of them started to leave without a second thought. But as Isabelle turned, her hand brushed against the corner of my old desk, jostling a stack of books. They tumbled to the floor. A single sheet of paper and an envelope slid out from between them. She picked them up, her brow furrowed in confusion. The stark title at the top of the page struck her like a physical blow. 【DECLARATION OF SEVERING TIES】

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I was folding his laundry when he spoke, his voice casual. “You know, sometimes, you’re just… cheap.” My hands froze mid-fold. Before I could form a reply, he plowed on. “Don’t get me wrong, you love me, I know you do. You’re responsible, you take good care of me, of the house. But you just can’t compare to Helen.” He sighed, a sound of profound disappointment. “Anyone could do what you do. It’s nothing special. It’s not like what I have with Helen.” My mind flashed back a month ago, to when his ex-girlfriend had invited him to a concert. I’d told her he wasn’t going. He was still holding it against me. I dropped the shirt I was holding and turned to leave the room. The irony was suffocating. Just this morning, my boss had offered me a position at our overseas division. A huge promotion. I had turned it down. For him. But now, as I was finally ready to walk away, to give his precious Helen the space she so clearly wanted… Why would he end up crying, begging me to come back? 1 I threw the half-folded laundry onto the bed. Ethan didn’t move from his chair, just watched me walk to the door. “What, was I wrong?” he challenged. “There’s another show tonight, isn’t there?” I said, my hand gripping the cool metal of the doorknob. “Is that what this is about? All this passive-aggressive bullshit? Go. I don’t care.” He’d never heard me talk back to him like that. A slow, incredulous smile spread across his face. “You really think you can stop me?” “Do whatever you want.” “Amelia!” he snapped, his voice sharp. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Was anything I said untrue? Will you be happy if you force me to go?” “I told you,” I said, my voice flat. “Do. Whatever. You. Want.” I pulled the door shut behind me. A few steps down the hall, I heard the satisfying crash of a glass shattering against a wall. I sat in a Starbucks, stirring a latte I couldn’t afford, scrolling through my phone for Ms. Davenport’s number. For years, I’d been pinching every penny for the down payment on our first home. The most expensive drink I ever bought myself was a slushie from the corner store. This Starbucks… it wasn’t as magical as I’d imagined. But the feeling? The freedom? That was priceless. Ms. Davenport answered on the second ring. I didn’t waste any time. “Ms. Davenport, that offer for the overseas division… is it still on the table?” There was a pause on the other end. Then, a warm laugh. “It’s yours if you want it, Amelia.” “I want it!” “And your wedding plans with your boyfriend…?” “We broke up,” I said, the words tasting like liberation. There was no sympathy, no awkward condolences. Instead, she actually snorted. “Good. It’s about time you came to your senses.” For six years, everyone in my life had gently, and not-so-gently, reminded me that my career had far more potential than my relationship. That I shouldn’t have to put my life on hold while Ethan got his feet back on the ground after his failed startup. But I couldn’t bear to leave him when he was at his lowest. I stayed. The hilarious part? His ex, Helen, was the one who had dumped him back then because he was broke, running off with some rich kid she met in Europe. Now that Ethan was successful, she was back, sniffing around for a second chance without, of course, giving up her lavish lifestyle. My phone buzzed. A new Instagram story from Helen. It was a picture of her and Ethan, their faces projected onto the giant screen above the concert stage. They were nestled close, their hands forming a heart for the camera. The entire arena could see them. No one would doubt for a second that they were a couple. The caption read: After all this time, the right person is still waiting right where you left them. And right below it, a single “like” from Ethan. I took a screenshot and fired it off to my best friend. I can’t deal with these two psychos. A question mark came back instantly, followed by a screenshot of Helen’s empty profile. My friend couldn’t see the story. I checked with a few other people. Same thing. Helen had set the story’s privacy so only certain people could see it. No, not people. Just one person. Me. A cold smile touched my lips. I blocked her number and deleted her contact. 2 By the time I left Ms. Davenport’s office with the signed contract in my hand, most of my anger had dissipated, replaced by a thrilling sense of purpose. I was scheduled to fly out in a week, and I had no intention of spending another minute playing maid for Ethan. But when I got back to our apartment to pack, I found it already occupied. The place was a disaster. Helen stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding a plate of blackened, incinerated chicken wings. “Oops,” she chirped, looking at Ethan. “Is it okay that I made such a mess, sweetie?” Ethan, a notorious neat freak, just shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Amelia will clean it up.” “I feel so bad,” Helen pouted. “I’m just useless at housework…” “Hey, don’t say that,” he cooed. “This kind of stuff isn’t for you, anyway.” I walked straight past them, heading for the bedroom to grab my suitcase. Ethan stared, stunned into silence for a moment. Helen put down the plate of charred remains and followed me. “Amelia, I— ah!” I shoved her out of my way. It wasn’t hard, but she reacted as if I’d hit her with a battering ram, stumbling dramatically and collapsing onto the floor. “Helen!” Ethan rushed to her side, helping her up. He glared at me. “Amelia, she’s my guest! If you’re going to be angry, be angry with me!” My fists clenched. Ignoring them, I started yanking my things out of the closet, tossing miscellaneous junk onto the floor. A folder slid out from a shelf and fluttered to the ground, landing right at Helen’s feet. She picked it up. Her eyes scanned the top page. Her face crumpled, and her eyes welled up with tears. She dropped the folder as if it were on fire and spun around to leave. “Helen, wait!” Ethan grabbed her arm. She struggled, her voice choked with sobs. “Let me go! You two are already engaged!” I glanced down. It was the paperwork for our engagement party venue. 3 Ethan held onto Helen’s wrist, but despite her tearful performance, she wasn’t actually trying very hard to get away. “Amelia,” Ethan said, his voice tight with frustration as he struggled to hold onto her. He shot me a furious look. “Apologize.” I stared at him. “For what?” “If you hadn’t pushed this whole engagement thing, she wouldn’t be this hurt right now! You pretended to be cleaning out your closet, but you just wanted her to see this, didn’t you?” A harsh, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Ethan, I never realized how stupid you could be.” He blinked, taken aback. I turned my attention to Helen. “Let me get this straight. You couldn’t tell we lived together? You didn’t know we were a couple? If that’s the case, why were you calling me his ‘sister-in-law’ earlier? You knew everything. So who is this little ‘I’m the innocent, heartbroken victim’ act for?” Her eyes reddened further. She made another show of trying to leave, and Ethan tightened his grip. “Amelia! That’s enough!” I ignored him and went back to packing. Helen’s voice rose in a dramatic wail. “Don’t stop me! She already misunderstands everything! You’re engaged! I never should have come here!” “Amelia!” Ethan snapped, his grip on Helen unwavering as he glared at me. “Apologize. Now.” My hands balled into fists so tight my knuckles were white. “No.” “Are you sure about that?” My chin jutted out. “I’m sure.” Ethan stared at me for a few long seconds, his jaw tight. Then, he bent down and picked up the engagement papers. “See? This is why you’ll never be as good as Helen,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “All you know how to do is play these petty, jealous games. It’s so obvious you’ve never been out of the country. Your worldview is pathetic compared to hers.” With that, he ripped the folder in half. “Since you won’t apologize, I guess this engagement is off. You can keep this worthless piece of paper for all I care.” He tore it again, and again, until the documents were nothing but confetti in his hand. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he flung the scraps into my face. He didn’t look back. He just grabbed Helen’s hand and walked out. I snatched our framed photo from the nightstand and slammed it onto the floor. A spiderweb of cracks fractured the glass, splitting our smiling faces apart. I kicked it across the room until it slid to a stop next to the trash can. 4 Three days passed. Not a word from Ethan. We used to talk every single day. Our Snap streak was over two thousand days long. Though, if I was being honest, I was the one who started the conversation for more than half of those days. In just three days, the little flame icon vanished. I was in my hotel room, finalizing handover documents for my old job, when his name flashed on my screen. It was the first time he’d called. “You’re not home?” he asked, his voice flat. “Do you need something?” I replied, not looking up from my laptop. A picture message came through. It was our apartment. The trash was overflowing. There were dirty dishes in the sink, caked with dried food. A pile of his wrinkled shirts lay in a heap on the bed. You’ve had your fun. It’s time to come home now, his text read. The apartment is a mess. You should show a little more concern. “What about Helen?” I typed back. Helen tries to help, but she’s not good at this stuff. She’s used to a certain lifestyle, Amelia. She didn’t come back here to do chores. I didn’t have time for this. You’re a successful man, Ethan. Hire a maid. He was silent for a moment. Then, another text. Even the best maid isn’t as thoughtful as you. Helen has high standards. They just don’t measure up. You’re insane, I wrote, and then hung up. He called back immediately. I blocked his number. A minute later, I got a notification from my bank. The joint credit card had been frozen. It was the card Ethan had given me. After his startup failed, I was the one who supported him, encouraged him, and took care of everything at home so he could rebuild. I turned down promotion after promotion to be his stable foundation. In six years, he became the respected CEO everyone looked up to, while I remained a junior associate. The card was supposed to be his way of thanking me, of providing for me. In reality, most of the money went to household expenses. He was freezing it to force me to come crawling back. I had never been more grateful for Ms. Davenport. A separate notification glowed on my screen: a direct deposit from the company. My promotion bonus. I didn’t need his money anymore. The next day, I was at Starbucks putting the final touches on my paperwork when I saw them. Ethan and Helen. I stood up to leave, but Helen spotted me and walked right over, a sickly sweet smile on her face. I couldn’t understand how she had the audacity to approach me after I had made my disgust so clear. In the clumsy shuffle as I tried to get past her, my folder of documents slipped from my hand, scattering papers across the floor. She bent down, her eyes widening as she read the top page. “A transfer letter?” she gasped. “Sister… you’re going to the overseas division!” 5 I snatched the papers from her hand. Ethan was staring at me, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. “You’re… leaving?” Helen’s eyes filled with tears instantly. “Sister, did you do this because you knew I wanted to apply for that division? Are you trying to show me up?” I was speechless. Helen started swaying, her hand flying to her forehead as if she were about to faint. She stumbled, collapsing into Ethan’s arms. He held her, his brow furrowed in disapproval as he looked at me. “Amelia, is this what this is about? You see that Helen has international experience, so now you want to copy her? That division was her dream! What do you think you’re doing, applying at the same time?” “This transfer is being revoked!” he declared. I clutched the letter to my chest. “No, it’s not.” “Ethan,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I’m curious. It’s her dream, so she’s allowed to go. But I want it, so I can’t? What’s the matter? Are you afraid to let her go?” He hesitated. “I can’t hold her back… She didn’t come back to be tied down by me. I can visit her. I will always respect her freedom.” A knot tightened in my chest. “So you weren’t angry when she abandoned you all those years ago?” Ethan closed his eyes for a moment. “She had her reasons. It wasn’t fair to ask her to struggle with me. Amelia, these overseas opportunities are rare. Be good. Withdraw your application. I’ll pull some strings and get you a better job here. Just stop competing with Helen over everything.” Crack. The sound of my hand hitting his cheek echoed through the quiet coffee shop. Helen shrieked and threw herself between us. “Sister! Don’t take it out on him!” she cried, grabbing my arm, tears streaming down her face. “I won’t go, okay? Please don’t fight with him because of me, I—” Crack. Another slap, this time across her face. Her words died in her throat. “What are you two yapping about?” I asked, my voice cold as I carefully placed the transfer letter back in my folder. Ethan pulled Helen behind him, shielding her. “You’re crazy!” he yelled. I gave them both a look that could freeze fire. “I’m leaving. That was my decision. Nothing either of you says will change that.” Then, my eyes landed on Helen. “And don’t you ever pull that pathetic act in front of me again. It’s embarrassing.” Without another word, I turned and strode out of the Starbucks, leaving them in a stunned silence amidst the shocked stares of the other customers. I could feel Ethan’s gaze on my back, a new, unfamiliar look of surprise in his eyes. He gritted his teeth. 6 I was on my way to drop off the last of my files, stopped at a red light on a deserted stretch of road, when a car slammed into me from behind. I stomped on the brake, but the car behind me didn’t stop. It accelerated. I laid on the horn, a frantic, useless blare as the force pushed my car forward. The impacts kept coming, one after another, until my car was violently shoved into a concrete retaining wall. The world spun. Half my body was thrown out the open window, my chest crushed between the deployed airbag and the driver’s seat. I couldn’t breathe. This area was desolate. There was no one around to see. My phone was gone, flung somewhere into the wreckage. The door of the other car finally opened. Helen emerged, teetering on high heels. With tears already streaming down her face, she made a phone call. A few minutes later, Ethan’s car screeched to a halt nearby. “Ethan! Help me!” I managed to gasp, the pain in my ribs blinding. “Ethan, honey! Over here!” Helen cried from where she was now sitting on the pavement, clutching her ankle and shivering. Ethan’s eyes darted between me, covered in blood and struggling for air, and Helen, with a minor scrape on her ankle. He clenched his jaw, and then walked right past me to scoop Helen into his arms. “Ethan!” I screamed, using the last of the oxygen in my lungs. “Help me first! Just… call 911! I can’t… I can’t breathe…” “Stop being so dramatic,” he snapped, his voice laced with annoyance. “It won’t take me long to get her to the hospital. I’ll send an ambulance back for you. Can’t you stop competing with her for one second? Can’t you see how much danger she’s in?” “Ethan, I—” But he was already gone, placing Helen gently in his car. My pleas were lost in the dust kicked up by his tires as he sped away. I don’t remember passing out. I don’t remember who found me or called the police. I woke up in a hospital. Thanks to a passerby, I had received treatment in time. My injuries were serious, but not life-threatening. The first thing I did was file a police report. I found out which room Helen was in. The license plate from the scene matched her car, and the police immediately opened an investigation. But when they questioned her, Helen just wept. “I’m so sorry… sister. I don’t know what happened… I… I was having an episode.” “An ‘episode’ gives you the right to kill someone?” I screamed, slamming my hand on the table. “Do you have any idea how close I was to dying?” “That’s enough!” Ethan shoved me back. “She has depression! Stop harassing her!” “Depression?” I frowned. Of course, a psychiatric evaluation report was promptly shoved in my face. “She was in the middle of a depressive episode! Do you have any idea how much she suffers?” he roared. I took the report, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You can buy one of these from any shady clinic for the right price. What kind of ‘depressive episode’ allows someone to so precisely find a spot with no cameras and keep their foot floored on the accelerator? This wasn’t an episode, it was attempted murder!” “Why can’t you just leave a sick person alone? Does she have to die before you believe she’s ill?” Ignoring Ethan’s fury, I grabbed the front of Helen’s hospital gown. “Fine. Let’s have the police doctors determine if she’s really sick.” “Ahh! No!” Helen started trembling violently. I had barely touched her, but she flinched back as if I’d struck her, stumbling and crashing into a medical cart. The equipment clattered to the floor, and a sharp edge sliced her arm. Police officers rushed into the room. Ethan’s jaw was tight with rage. “Officer, I’d like to report Ms. Amelia Vance for assault and disorderly conduct!” Soon after, Helen had a new psychiatric evaluation. This one was stamped and signed by a reputable doctor. When Ethan personally handed the report to the authorities, I saw the doctor’s signature. It belonged to one of Ethan’s business partners. “Ethan, I’m the victim here!” I cried, my voice raw. He instinctively moved to shield a cowering Helen. “Alright. According to the public security laws, you’ll be held in a detention center for a while. I’ll come get you in fifteen days.” Over his shoulder, I saw a triumphant smirk flash across Helen’s face. And then I understood. All of it. It was her plan from the start. My flight was in two days. Fifteen days in jail, and I would miss the deadline for my overseas transfer. My position was a one-off opportunity. If I didn’t show, Ethan could easily use his influence to get Helen the job instead. And she, thanks to her “mental health issues,” would walk away without facing any legal consequences. “Ethan, you can’t do this to me! You’re fabricating evidence!” Helen’s eyes welled with tears again. “Sister, do I really have to die before you’ll believe me?” With a dramatic cry, she lunged toward the wall, ready to smash her head against it. Ethan shot out a hand, cushioning the impact between his palm and the wall. Slap! His other hand struck my face, his eyes blazing with fury. “Don’t you have a heart?” “Ethan!” I screamed, trying to lunge at them, but the police, alerted by the commotion, quickly intervened and separated us. “Ma’am, if you continue, your detention will only be longer,” one of the officers warned. I could only stand there, teeth gritted, as I watched Ethan gently lead Helen away. His last words echoed in my ears. “I’ll come for you in fifteen days.” All hope drained out of me. My one chance. My escape. It was gone. I spent two days in a numb haze in the holding cell. They had taken my phone. Ms. Davenport had no idea what had happened. In a few hours, when she couldn’t reach me, she would probably leave without me… I felt a pang of guilt. She had tried to promote me so many times, and when I finally accepted, I ended up standing her up. “Amelia Vance?” A police officer was at my cell door. “Come on. Someone’s posted your bail.”

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During a white-water rafting trip, my daughter and I were thrown into the rapids. Without hesitation, my husband, Craig, saved her first. At home, I handed him divorce papers. “Just because I saved her first?” he asked, stunned. “Yes,” I replied coldly. Our daughter Anna fell to her knees, sobbing. “Mommy, please don’t leave Daddy! It’s my fault!” She banged her head on the floor until she passed out, blood blooming on her forehead. I kicked her aside, disgusted by the dirt on my pants. Craig, enraged, tore up the papers. “Have you no heart?” he shouted before rushing her to the hospital. Unmoved, I called my lawyer. “Mr. Davies, are the documents ready? I want a divorce.” 1 Five days later, Craig called. His furious roar filled my ear. “Charlotte, Anna has been in the hospital for days, and you haven’t even bothered to visit! And you have the nerve to file for divorce? Do you really think I can’t live without you?” I remained silent, offering no response. After a long pause, he took a deep breath, his tone softening. “Charlotte, I know you’re just jealous. You love me so much that you can’t stand to see me give attention to anyone else, even our daughter. But we’re her parents. When a child is in danger, isn’t it our first instinct to protect them? Anna is a wreck right now. She’s having a complete mental breakdown. You need to come to the hospital, apologize to her sincerely, and make things right.” I examined my nails, my voice lazy. “If she’s having a mental breakdown, she should be in a psychiatric hospital. I’m not a psychiatrist. Do you want me to send you their number?” He was speechless. After a moment, his voice came again, trembling with rage. “You’re a monster. A complete monster. You’re not even…” I’d heard enough. I hung up. I finished getting ready, my makeup immaculate, and prepared to head out to a new Cajun restaurant I’d been dying to try. Just as I reached the door, my mother called. Her voice was cold and hard. “You have a good life. Why are you trying to ruin it? Get to the hospital right now, or I swear, we are no longer mother and daughter.” Before I could say a word, she hung up. Then, a text from my mother-in-law arrived. “Charlotte, dear, if Craig did something wrong, you tell me, and I’ll give him a piece of my mind. But this is a small thing. Is it really worth filing for divorce? Have you forgotten all the sacrifices he’s made for you over the years? Anna keeps crying for her mommy. She’s terrified you’re really going to leave. We’re all at the hospital. Please come, and we can talk this through.” My good mood evaporated. Fine. They all wanted me at the hospital. How could I possibly disappoint them? 2 When I pushed open the hospital room door, my daughter’s eyes lit up for a second, then immediately dimmed. She scrambled off the bed and cautiously wrapped her arms around me. “Mommy, you came to the hospital. Does that mean you forgive me? Please don’t divorce Daddy. I don’t want to be a child from a broken home.” I shoved her away in disgust. She stumbled and fell to the floor. Craig rushed to her side, scooping her up and placing her back on the bed. He looked at the tears welling in her eyes, tears she was clearly fighting to hold back, and his heart broke. He turned to me, his voice thick with accusation. “Charlotte, look what you’ve done to her. She saves up her own pocket money to buy you vitamins instead of spending it on herself. She’s so afraid of waking you that she only lets me put her to bed at night. And every time there’s a parent-teacher conference, all she wants is for you to be there, just once. Do you think you deserve a daughter as good as her?” I let out a cold, amused laugh. “You’re right. I don’t deserve to be her mother. So just agree to the divorce, and we can all move on.” His mouth opened, but no words came out. He couldn’t understand how I had become so cold, so cruel. My mother stepped forward and slapped me hard across the face. “How could I have given birth to such an ungrateful monster? If you dare to divorce Craig, you will no longer be my daughter.” I cradled my stinging cheek, my eyes locked on hers. “Then please, draft the disownment papers immediately. I’ll sign them without a moment’s hesitation.” Her face flushed, then paled. She pointed a trembling finger at me, speechless with rage. My mother-in-law forced a smile and took my hand. “Charlotte, Craig told me what happened. You and Anna both fell in the water. It makes perfect sense that he would save the one who couldn’t save herself first. If it had been you and me, I’m sure he would have saved you. You know how he’s treated you all these years. You have to be fair.” I snatched my hand away and wiped it on my pants as if her touch had contaminated me. “The fact that he didn’t save me first proves that I’m less important to him than his little darling. And since he doesn’t love me, I’m demanding a divorce. What’s the problem?” The smile vanished from my mother-in-law’s face. She stepped back, her expression now as cold as mine. Anna struggled out of Craig’s arms and knelt before me again, her face a mask of pitiful desperation. “Mommy, if you think Daddy loves me more, I’ll punish myself. Please, just give him another chance. It’s all my fault…” Without another word, she began slapping herself, hard, across the face. Her cheeks quickly swelled and turned red. Craig grabbed her, pulling her into a tight hug. He roared at me, his voice filled with anguish. “Charlotte, look what you’ve turned our sweet, innocent daughter into! How long are you going to keep this up?” A crowd had gathered at the door, drawn by the commotion. “My God, what kind of mother gets jealous of her own daughter?” “They say a daughter is her father’s lover in a past life. It’s only natural for a father to dote on his little girl.” “Didn’t you hear? The daughter and this bitch both fell in the water, and the father saved the daughter first. Now she’s throwing a fit and demanding a divorce.” A few new mothers in the crowd, their faces flushed with righteous indignation, stormed into the room. One of them grabbed a fistful of my hair and started hitting me. “You bitch! Do you have any maternal instincts at all? You don’t deserve to live!” Seeing that someone had made the first move, others surged forward. Fists and feet rained down on me. I heard the sickening crack of a bone. A sharp, searing pain exploded on my scalp as a chunk of my hair was ripped out. 3 Craig desperately tried to hold back the furious mob. Anna was on the floor, sobbing and banging her head, begging them to let me go. My mother-in-law, snapping out of her daze, ran to the nurses’ station for help. Eventually, the chaos was brought under control. But by then, I was a broken, bloody mess. Craig, his face pale with panic, rushed me to the emergency room. Someone had filmed the entire incident and posted it online. I woke up in a regular hospital room after surgery and checked my phone. The top trending topic: “Mom and Daughter Fall in Water, Dad Saves Daughter, Mom Files for Divorce.” A related topic was number two: “Your Wife and Your Mom Fall in the Water. Who Do You Save First?” I calmly clicked on the first link. There were already hundreds of thousands of comments, all of them cursing me. “She doesn’t deserve to be a mother. Go to hell.” “Not this again. Last time, a mother buried her daughter alive in a flour bin because her husband bought the girl a roasted duck. I hope this father learns from that and protects his child.” “Seconded. And that other mother who threw her daughter in the river because she was jealous. The father in this story needs to watch his kid like a hawk.” “She sees her daughter as a rival, a competitor. People like that are incredibly selfish. She should be sterilized.” “What is there to even think about? Divorce her immediately before she becomes an even bigger problem.” “If it were me, I’d rather my daughter have no mother than a mother like that. Get as far away from her as possible.” My hospital room was surrounded by reporters and angry netizens. I could hear Craig’s patient, defensive voice on the other side of the door. “My wife wasn’t always like this. She used to love our daughter more than I did. I don’t know what’s happened to her. Maybe I spoiled her too much. She can’t handle me being nice to any other female, even if it’s our own daughter. Thank you all for your concern. I love my wife very much. I won’t be divorcing her.” Gritting my teeth against the pain, I got out of bed and slowly opened the door. “Craig, you can stop the act. This divorce is happening.” He turned, his voice low and pleading. “Honey, I promise I’ll love you even more from now on. Please, don’t be like this. If you’re really that upset about Anna, I’ll send her to live with my mom for a while.” I was unmoved. “The divorce is non-negotiable. And not only am I divorcing you, I’m taking everything. You will leave with nothing.” Craig’s face darkened. The crowd of onlookers could no longer contain their outrage. They surged forward, wanting to attack me again, but the reporters blocked their path. “You psycho bitch, why don’t you just die?” “Any real man would divorce her. After she’s gone, let’s see who would ever want a monster like her.” “You better pray you never get out of this hospital. If you do, I hope you trip and break your neck.” The reporters shoved their microphones in my face. “Ms. Hayes, is it true what they’re saying online? Are you divorcing your husband because he saved your daughter first?” “Will you regret giving up such a loving husband and a wonderful daughter?” “Is there another reason? Perhaps you’re seriously ill and don’t want to be a burden to your family?” I spoke calmly. “Yes, it’s because he saved our daughter first. No, I’m not seriously ill. If I’m sick with anything, it’s from being beaten by these ignorant fools. And after the divorce is finalized, I will be filing lawsuits against every single person who assaulted me.” 4 My words ignited the fury of the crowd once more. They spat at me. “The whole country wants you dead, you pervert, and you’re talking about lawsuits? Who are you trying to scare? You think you can sue all of us?” “Go ahead! Remember my face! My name is Lee Carter! Sue me too!” “You bitch! I’m a famous influencer! I’m going to post this video of your ugly face all over the internet!” I calmly weathered their abuse, then stepped back and closed the door. Two weeks later, the divorce hearing began. Because the case had become a national sensation, the gallery was packed with people from all walks of life. With my permission, the entire proceeding was being live-streamed. Craig looked at me with a pained expression. “Charlotte, does it have to be like this? Ten years together… does it all mean nothing? Drop the suit. Come home with me.” His words stirred a flicker of something within me. He was right. It hadn’t been easy for us. After college, we both started as interns at the same company. When our relationship was discovered, he willingly gave up his career to become a stay-at-home husband so I could advance mine. My mother had been vehemently opposed to our marriage. “A man with no ambition, what kind of future can he give you?” Even after he knelt outside our family home for three days and three nights, she refused to budge. I had to steal the household registration book to marry him. When we couldn’t conceive, we adopted Anna from an orphanage two years ago, when she was already ten. All my friends envied me. The perfect career, a devoted husband, a well-behaved daughter. My life seemed perfect. I blinked, shaking myself from the memories. I sighed. “Craig, I’m trying to give you an out. Leave with nothing, and I’ll drop everything else.” My mother-in-law, who had always been so supportive of me, shot to her feet. “Charlotte, on what grounds do you demand my son leave with nothing? Even if he doesn’t have a job, he’s spent years taking care of this family, raising a child, and waiting on you hand and foot! He even washes your underwear! Do you have a conscience?” She turned to her son. “Craig, divorce her! We’ll split the assets fifty-fifty.” Craig frowned. “Mom, be quiet. I’m not divorcing Charlotte.” He then looked at me, his eyes full of love. “Charlotte, if you think I’ve done something wrong, just say it. I have nothing to hide. You don’t need to protect my reputation.” Anna was sobbing, her tear-filled eyes fixed on me. “Mommy, if this is because of me, just send me back to the orphanage. The two years of love you gave me are more than I ever could have asked for.” A man in the gallery stood up, his face red with anger. “So this is what happens when a man sacrifices his career for a woman? He gets thrown out with nothing? I bet this bitch found someone else and is just looking for an excuse.” “If the court rules in her favor, what man will ever dare to be a stay-at-home husband again?” The live-stream chat was scrolling at lightning speed. “Sweetie, don’t beg her. She doesn’t deserve to be your mother. Come live with me. I’ll adopt you.” “That poor child. Of course, she’s not her real mother. A real mother would never be so cruel.” I sighed again. “Craig, since you don’t want me to spare your feelings… Mr. Davies, please give your file to the judge. I’m confident that once he sees it, he will grant me a fair and just ruling.” All eyes turned to the file in my lawyer’s hand. Craig, who had seemed so confident just a moment before, now had a flicker of panic in his eyes.

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In the heart of Westmere, inside Obsidian, the city’s most exclusive nightclub, my sister was shoved onto the center stage. Below, a pack of men jeered, each one brandishing a blood-stained hotel sheet as they argued. “It was me! I was the one in her room last night!” “Bullshit! I was definitely the first one in there!” “Get lost, it was me!” My sister’s face was ashen, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at the man sitting on a throne-like chair in the center of it all—her fiancé. “Marcus,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “I’m your fiancée. How could you do this to me?” Marcus Thorne leaned down and pressed a kiss to the lips of the delicate woman curled in his lap before casting a cold glance at my sister. “A slut who doesn’t even know who she spent the night with has the nerve to question me?” The woman in his arms giggled, her eyes dripping with contempt as she looked at my sister. I sat in a shadowed booth across the room, the fury in my eyes as sharp as a blade. I’d only been out of the country for three years, and someone already had the audacity to lay a hand on a Blackwood? 1 My assistant, standing beside me, wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. His voice was laced with reverent fear. “Ms. Blackwood, I’ll summon the owner of this club at once. He will answer to you for this.” A cold sneer touched my lips. “No need. Just have our people surround this place. Not even a fly gets out.” He bowed. “As you wish.” Touch my sister? I’ll make sure you don’t live to see the sunrise. Tears streamed down my sister Uta’s pale face. “Marcus, it was just you and me last night! How could there have been other men in the room?” The woman, Isla Vance, snuggled deeper into Marcus’s arms, covering her mouth in a mock giggle. “Oh, darling, you’re hilarious. Marcus was with me all night. How could he possibly have been with you? It seems to me you wanted a more… exciting first time. One man just wasn’t enough for you, was it?” Uta froze, muttering in a daze. “That’s impossible. Marcus gave me the room key himself. We had a candlelit dinner last night…” Her words trailed off. She looked up, her gaze locking onto Marcus, her entire body trembling with rage. “It was you. You drugged my drink, and then you called them…” Marcus simply arched an eyebrow, unconcerned. A moment later, a short video clip flashed onto the massive screen behind the stage. It was my sister, Uta, sprawled on a bed, barely clothed. With a smirk, Marcus pulled a USB drive from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. “Alright, gentlemen! The winner of tonight’s little wager—whoever can prove they were the one to take Uta Blackwood’s virginity—gets a little bonus prize: the full, unedited video from last night!” Every man in the club stared at the screen like a wolf sighting its prey, their eyes burning with lust. “Even that short clip was incredible. I can’t imagine how wild the full version is!” “Girls from high society are just different. Even their screams sound better!” I watched the screen, my body shaking with a fury so cold it burned. When Marcus and my sister were first engaged, his family was nothing, not even a footnote compared to the Blackwood empire. If Uta hadn’t been so in love with him, my parents would have never approved the match. Where did this insect get the gall to treat my sister this way? My face a mask of stone, I sent a text to my assistant, ordering him to investigate everything. Meanwhile, the men in the club were throwing stacks of cash onto the tables, barking out their bets like rabid dogs. My sister was curled into a ball in the corner of the stage, her eyes glazed over, numb to the horror unfolding around her. “All bets in?” Marcus asked, leaning back into the sofa with a lazy yawn. The club manager, after counting the money on the table, looked up in confusion. “The bets are in, Mr. Thorne, but… how do we determine who actually took Miss Blackwood’s virginity last night?” Marcus grinned. “It was only last night. The evidence should still be there. A simple examination will tell us everything, won’t it?” He clapped his hands. “Bring them in!” Several men in white lab coats walked onto the stage. They moved to grab Uta, their intention clear: they were going to strip her right there. The men in the crowd craned their necks, their faces alight with sick anticipation. Terrified, Uta snatched a pair of tweezers from one of the men’s hands and pointed it at them, her voice a shrill scream. “Stay back! Do you have any idea who I am? If you touch me, I’ll make sure every single one of you is dead by morning!” She was dead serious, but to everyone else, it was just the desperate struggle of a cornered animal. Isla Vance was the first to laugh. “Oh, honey. Do you really still think you’re the untouchable princess of the Blackwood family?” She stepped forward and pinched Uta’s cheek, her long nails digging into my sister’s delicate skin, drawing blood. “The Blackwoods are finished! Besides, this club belongs to my dear ‘brother,’ Donovan Croft. In here, you’re nothing.” Donovan Croft? He was one of my father’s most trusted men. If this was his club, how could he possibly allow my sister to be humiliated like this? And since when was the Blackwood family “finished”? Marcus wrapped an arm around Isla’s waist, cooing softly. “Don’t waste your time arguing with her, darling. The priority is to find out who was lucky enough to be her first.” He shot a sharp look at the men in lab coats. “What are you waiting for? Get on with it.” They descended on Uta again, pinning her down. They tore at her trousers, and just as they were about to rip away her last layer of clothing, the manager’s voice cut through the noise, filled with panic. “Wait!” 2 Everyone froze. The men in white coats paused, their hands hovering over my sister. The manager scrambled onto the stage, his hands trembling as he picked up a black card that had fallen from Uta’s pocket. Sweat instantly beaded on his forehead. “This is… a Centurion Card?!” The name rippled through the crowd, followed by a wave of shocked murmurs. “What? A Centurion Black Card?” “There’s only one person in the entire country who has that card. They say she’s a legend, a ghost, someone who could destroy a family with the snap of her fingers. How did Uta Blackwood get it?!” Marcus stared at the card, his pupils constricting as his face darkened. The manager, drenched in a cold sweat, quickly dialed a number on the club’s private line. “Mr. Croft, I have a guest here who is in possession of a Centurion Card. I believe you’ll want to come down personally.” A few moments later, the private elevator from the penthouse opened, but it wasn’t Donovan who stepped out. It was a woman I recognized—his executive assistant, Jenna. “Mr. Croft was delayed with some business,” Jenna announced with a practiced, professional smile. “He sent me down to receive our honored guest.” She was about to take the card from the manager when Isla interrupted with a dismissive scoff. “If I’d known a little card would cause such a fuss, I would have pulled mine out sooner.” Isla reached into her purse and produced a black card of her own, holding it delicately between two fingers and waving it in front of Jenna. The crowd gasped. The card in Isla’s hand was also a Centurion. “I am the holder of the Centurion Card,” Isla declared, sneering at my sister. “What right does she have to possess one? It’s obviously a fake.” Jenna took Isla’s card, examining it for a moment before her expression shifted into one of fawning subservience. “Miss Vance’s card is authentic!” she proclaimed. Then, she turned to my sister, her eyes filled with disgust. “Miss Blackwood, not just anyone can have a card like this. There’s no need to resort to cheap forgeries to feed your vanity.” Uta shook her head, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Impossible! My sister gave me this card. It can’t be fake! My sister is Aurora Blackwood!” Isla let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Aurora Blackwood? Darling, I know every major player in this city. I’ve never heard that name in my life.” Jenna crossed her arms, watching the scene with smug amusement. “Since Miss Vance is our most distinguished guest, this little matter concerning Miss Blackwood has nothing to do with Mr. Croft. Please, continue.” The quiet crowd erupted once more. “Hurry up with the test! I’ve got a million riding on this!” “I’m adding another half a million! It was me!” The men in white coats closed in again, their hands reaching for the last piece of fabric protecting my sister’s dignity. My assistant hadn’t returned yet, but I couldn’t wait another second. “Get your hands off her!” I rose from my booth, my voice cracking like a whip. I strode to the stage, and while the men were still stunned by my sudden appearance, I pulled Uta down, wrapping my own coat around her and helping her dress. Isla stared at me, her face contorted with rage. “Who the hell are you? Do you have any idea what the consequences are for causing trouble on Mr. Croft’s territory?” I shielded my sister behind me, my voice as cold as ice. “Aurora Blackwood. Eldest daughter of the Blackwood family.” 3 The moment the words left my mouth, the club erupted in laughter, as if I had told the most ridiculous joke in the world. “Aurora Blackwood? You’ve got to be kidding me. The Aurora Blackwood is a legend in this city, a ghost who can move heaven and earth. But she hasn’t been seen in years. The rumor is she died overseas. You’re not going to tell us that’s you, are you?” “But wait, her last name is Blackwood. Could she really be from that family?” “No way. The Blackwoods only have one daughter!” Isla giggled, covering her mouth. “Uta, where did you hire this imposter? The acting is terrible. How dare she pretend to be Aurora Blackwood.” I looked at her as if she were already dead. It was true that, to the outside world, Uta was the only Blackwood daughter. As the designated heir, my identity had been a closely guarded secret. I was raised in seclusion, trained to take over, my existence known to only a handful of people. “Uta, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough tonight? Get this fake out of here!” Marcus scowled at us, his expression one of utter disgust. My sister clutched my sleeve, her eyes filled with worry. I patted her hand reassuringly, my gaze shifting to Marcus, now filled with a lethal sharpness. “You are not worthy of speaking to me,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Where is Donovan Croft? Tell him to get his ass down here!” Isla looked me up and down with a sneer. “You actually have the attitude down, I’ll give you that. But it’s a shame. If the real Aurora Blackwood had returned, the entire city’s elite would be in an uproar. How could there be not so much as a whisper?” The fury inside me burned hotter. “I said, you are not qualified to speak to me. Get Donovan Croft down here. Now.” Isla rolled her eyes dismissively. “You think you can summon Mr. Croft on a whim? Since you’ve got such a big mouth, don’t blame me for teaching an imposter like you a lesson!” She turned to the leering men in the club. “Grab her! Teach her a lesson for me. If I’m satisfied with your work, there will be a generous reward!” “Don’t worry, Miss Vance, we’ll make sure she learns the power of a real man!” “She said she’s Uta’s sister. Let’s give her a taste of what her sister went through last night!” The men surged forward, their faces twisted with greed. “Who gave you the nerve to touch me?” My voice was glacial. As the first man reached for me, a slender knife appeared in my hand, and I slashed it across his face. “Aaargh!” he screamed, clutching his bleeding cheek. “Get her! Kill that bitch!” A dozen of them swarmed me at once. One of them saw an opening and grabbed me by the throat, his face a mask of rage. “You slut! You dare to cut me? I’ll show you the price for laying a hand on me!” The others closed in, some even pulling out their phones to record. Uta tried to throw herself over me, to protect me, but Isla grabbed her by the hair. “Still playing the loving sisters act with this fake? After I’m done with her, you’re next!” Tears streamed down Uta’s face. She grabbed at Isla’s dress, her voice a desperate, broken plea. “Don’t touch my sister. Let her go. I’ll let you do the test!” Isla kicked her to the ground with a look of disgust. “Oh, we’re going to test you, alright. And we’re going to deal with this imposter. Unless…” A cruel smile twisted Isla’s lips. “Unless you get on your knees and bow to me. Keep going until I’m satisfied, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider letting your fake sister go.” Uta turned to Marcus, who was watching the scene with cold indifference. She gritted her teeth. “My sister is the powerful figure you’re all talking about. If you hurt her…” Marcus just laughed. “Enough of this crap! Start bowing! If you don’t, I’ll have them do your sister right here, right now!” Isla looked down at Uta like she was an ant. A bitter, broken laugh escaped Uta’s lips. “Fine. I’ll do it.” She knelt. And she began to bow, slamming her forehead against the hard floor again and again. “Please,” she sobbed, “let my sister go…” Her forehead was bruised, swollen, and bleeding, but Isla didn’t tell her to stop. My heart ached with a pain so sharp I could barely breathe. I tried to stand, to stop this, but I was pinned down, helpless. Every thud of my sister’s head against the floor was like a needle plunging into my heart. My Uta, who I had sheltered and adored her entire life, had never suffered a moment of humiliation like this. My assistant should have been back by now. What was taking so long? Isla yawned, bored. “Alright, alright. Stop.” A flicker of hope lit up Uta’s pale face. “Does that mean you’ll let my sister go?” Isla laughed at her naivety. “I said I’d consider it. And I have. My decision is… no.” “You—!” Uta launched herself at Isla like a feral animal, but Marcus kicked her away before she could even get close. “You touch my sister again,” I roared, a sharp pain lancing through my chest, “and I swear I will kill you.” Isla strode over to me. A flash of jealousy crossed her face as she looked at me, and then she clamped her hand around my throat. “Fine. Then I’ll start with you.” “No!” Uta screamed in panic. “If you hurt my sister, when Donovan gets here, he won’t let you off!” Isla laughed coldly. “You really think the Blackwoods are what they used to be? You have no power to threaten me!” She picked up the knife I had dropped and pressed the cold steel against my neck. Just as she was about to press down, the doors to the private penthouse elevator slid open. Donovan Croft stepped out, flanked by an army of guards in black suits. When he saw Isla holding a knife to my throat, a trickle of blood already seeping from the cut, his face instantly turned black as night.

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In my third year married to Collin, I learned I couldn’t have children—a permanent, irreversible defect. Grief consumed me, but Collin suggested adoption. At the agency, we met a sweet, well-behaved girl. I adored her instantly. But on signing day, I noticed a tiny birthmark on her hand. “I don’t want her,” I said. Collin insisted, “We’re adopting her.” “Then I want a divorce.” Shocked silence filled the room. “Over a birthmark?” Collin asked, disbelieving. “Yes. It’s ugly.” His mother snapped, “You’re the problem! You can’t have kids, and now you’re rejecting her over a mark a doctor could remove?” Collin pleaded, “We’ll get it removed. She’s lovely—is this worth the drama?” I laughed bitterly. “After we divorce, adopt her. Adopt as many as you want. I won’t care.” 1 Collin looked at me, his face a mask of bewilderment. “Lily! What the hell is going on? You’re throwing our marriage away for a child you’ve met twice? What did she do to upset you? This is insane.” I locked eyes with him, my voice devoid of all emotion. “It’s her or me. Choose.” He looked at me as if I were a stranger. Shock radiated from him. “She’s just a child, Lily. A little girl who’s already been abandoned once. How can you be so cruel? She can’t help her birthmark.” “Fine,” I cut him off. “Divorce it is.” The color drained from Collin’s face. I said nothing more. The air in the agency turned to ice. The staff exchanged nervous glances until the director finally broke the silence. “Mrs. Hayes,” she began gently, “Rosie is the sweetest child we have. She never makes a fuss, and she’s always helping the other children. We’ve had other potential families, but she never seemed to connect with them. She really took a liking to you.” My father-in-law tried to play peacemaker. “Lily, dear, she seems like a wonderful kid. And with modern medicine, if that mark bothers you, it’s an easy fix.” I remained silent, my resolve hardening with every word they spoke. Collin moved closer, his hand reaching for mine, his touch hesitant. “Can we please just go home and talk about this?” His voice was thick with a plea, a raw, wounded sound I’d rarely heard. I snatched my hand away, leaving him no room for hope. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll have my lawyer draft the papers. Make sure you’re ready to sign them.” His mother gasped, her eyes wide with fury. “How dare you? You’ve been married into our family for three years without a single sign of a baby, and now we know why. We try to find a solution, and you throw it in our faces.” She jabbed a finger at me. “I never knew you were such a petty, vindictive woman. Are you trying to make sure the Hayes family line dies out?” She started dredging up the past, her voice rising with every grievance. “Remember all those times you wanted a midnight snack? My son got up to cook for you, no matter how late, without a single complaint. You loved that one bakery downtown, so he stood in line for an hour every single day to buy you a cake. Do you have a heart? We have treated you so well, and all I want is a grandchild. What good are you if you can’t even give me that?” She clutched her chest, her words painting me as an ungrateful monster. I grabbed my purse to leave. Just then, the little girl, Rosie, stepped toward me, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Mommy,” she whispered. A wave of revulsion washed over me. I pushed her away. Collin’s sister, Pathy, caught her before she fell. “Lily! She’s just a child! So you don’t like her birthmark, but did you have to push her?” she scolded. “Why are you taking your anger out on her? All she wants is a family. What did she do wrong by calling you ‘Mommy’?” I shot her a cold glance. “You can let her call you that.” Pathy’s face went pale, and she started stammering. “What are you talking about, Lily? This is the child you and my brother were adopting.” “And you know it’s our adoption, so why are you so involved?” My retort silenced her. She bit her lip, unable to respond. “Enough!” Collin’s voice trembled. “Honey, please, can we just talk about this in private? I’ve already told everyone we were doing this today. Just sign the papers, for me. Please. Give me that much. You can scream at me all you want when we get home.” “No,” I said flatly. “Sign the divorce papers.” I turned to walk away. Behind me, there was a heavy thud. Collin had fallen to his knees in front of everyone. 2 “Please, Lily. Just sign,” he begged, clutching at my legs, refusing to let me leave. His mother was beside herself, on the verge of fainting as she shrieked at him to get up. In all our years together, through all our fights, no matter how vicious, he had never knelt before. They say a man’s pride is in his knees, and here Collin was, sacrificing his for a child who wasn’t even ours. Collin, do you really want her that badly? I glanced over at the girl, now hiding in Pathy’s arms. So beautiful. So adorable. So much like her. A dark, humorless laugh bubbled up inside me. I bent down and, one by one, pried his fingers from my leg. “Don’t make a scene.” My coldness finally broke him. His eyes reddened, and tears streamed down his face. I looked around the room. The well-behaved child. The furious mother-in-law. The silent onlookers. And my kneeling husband. Somehow, I had become the villain in this story. The monster who would destroy a three-year marriage over a pea-sized birthmark. “My answer is the same,” I said, my voice steady. “Divorce.” Then, without a backward glance, I walked out. I went home alone and called my lawyer to draft the papers. It was late when the rest of the family finally returned, their arms laden with shopping bags filled with gifts, their voices echoing with laughter. Rosie was in the center of it all, the star of the show, being ushered in like a princess. The moment Collin walked in and saw me sitting in the living room, the smile vanished from his face. “Honey,” he started, treading carefully. “The director said Rosie could stay with us for a few days. I know you don’t like her, so don’t worry, I’ll take her back soon.” I avoided his gaze. “No need. Let her stay.” His face lit up. “Really? You’ve changed your mind?” I slapped the divorce papers down on the coffee table with a resounding thud. “Sign them.” He shook his head, his expression crumpling into one of pure desperation. “Lily, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to adopt, we won’t. Please, just don’t divorce me. I can’t live without you. Why, Lily? Why are you doing this?” His mother pulled him back. “Are you cheating on him? Is this your scheme to leave my son with no heir?” she shrieked. “Since you married into this family, have I ever mistreated you? When you couldn’t get pregnant, I never said a word, afraid I’d upset you. I’m an old woman now! All I want is a grandchild to hold, someone to call me Grandma. Is that so wrong?” She grew more and more agitated, tears streaming down her face as she accused me. Just then, Pathy, holding Rosie, walked over and suddenly knelt before me. “Lily, I know we were lucky when you married into our family,” she said, her voice trembling pitifully. “You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, a true princess, and we’re just an ordinary family. You’ve never known what it’s like to be homeless, but I have. I know what it feels like to not have a family. It’s so painful, I even thought about killing myself.” She continued, her performance worthy of an Oscar. “I just can’t bear to see her go through the same thing. I know you look down on unwanted children like us. And I know you’ve told my brother many times that you don’t like me. If you’ll just take her in, I’ll leave this house right now and never come back.” Her words were so pathetic, so heart-wrenching. I snapped. I swung my hand and slapped her hard across the face. “Don’t you know exactly why I don’t want this child?” I seethed. Collin shot to his feet. Before I could process it, the back of his hand cracked across my face. The force sent me tumbling off the sofa, my head smacking against the sharp corner of the coffee table. The world spun, a dizzying blur, and then I felt something warm and wet trickle past my eye. “Lily, I’m so sorry,” he stammered, staring at his own hand in horror. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.” He rushed to my side, trying to press his hand against the wound. I shoved him away, grabbed my purse, and headed for the door. My father-in-law’s voice boomed behind me. “You walk out that door, you’re never welcome back in this house! You’ll leave this marriage with nothing!” 3 I stumbled back to my parents’ house, exhausted and bruised. My mother gasped when she saw me, pulling me into a hug. “Honey, what happened to your face? Where’s Collin? Didn’t he come with you?” I buried my face in her shoulder, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. “Did you and Collin have a fight? What happened?” she murmured, stroking my hair as the floodgates of my misery burst open. “Mom,” I sobbed, “that child…” I told them everything. When I finished, they stared at me in stunned silence. “I can’t believe Collin is that kind of person,” my father finally roared. “How could he do something so despicable?” “Divorce him,” my mother said, her voice firm. “We don’t want a penny from that family. We don’t need their money.” My father was so furious he wanted to storm over to their house and confront them, but I held him back. The next day, I went to Collin’s office to retrieve the unsigned divorce papers. I rode the elevator to the top floor and pushed open the door to his office without knocking. Inside, he and Pathy were laughing, playing with Rosie. The moment Collin saw me, he shot to his feet. His eyes, filled with pity, went straight to the cut on my forehead. “Lily, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t thinking.” “You know how much Pathy means to our family,” he pleaded. “She’s always been the favorite. I just can’t stand to see her get hurt.” He took my hand and tried to slap himself with it. “It was my fault. I lost my head. Hit me. Do whatever you need to do to feel better.” I pulled my hand away. “I’m here for the papers,” I said, my voice flat. “What is wrong with you, Lily? What happened? Just talk to me, please.” In just two days, I felt like my entire life’s energy had been drained. “I just want a divorce. I’m tired, Collin. I don’t love you anymore.” He just shook his head, refusing to hear it. “That’s not possible. What did I do wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever it is. You’re lying. You can’t just stop loving me. If you don’t like her, we won’t adopt her. No kids, I don’t care. I just want you.” He pulled me into a crushing hug, so tight I felt like he was trying to merge my body with his. “Collin! Don’t you understand English?” I shoved him back. “I want one thing. A divorce!” I enunciated each word. “Or do you want me to start listing all the filthy things you’ve done?” His calm facade cracked. For a split second, I saw a flash of panic in his eyes. “What did I do wrong, Lily? Just tell me, and I’ll change.” Pathy cut in. “Just let her go, brother. She’s an ungrateful snake. She’s forgotten every good thing you’ve ever done for her. Her conscience has been eaten by a dog. What were you thinking, marrying a high-maintenance woman like her?” Collin spun around and slapped her. Pathy staggered back, clutching her cheek in disbelief. “Apologize to your sister-in-law,” he commanded. Pathy stubbornly turned her head away, tears welling in her eyes. “If you won’t sign,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “I’ll see you in court.” With that, I walked out of his office. As the elevator descended, I could hear people whispering behind my back, their eyes darting from me to their phones. I snatched a phone from one of them. “What are you all gossiping about?” The company group chat was buzzing with notifications. “I heard the little girl is the CEO’s daughter. He admitted it himself.” “The wife is being so unreasonable. Who even notices a birthmark that small?” “That kid is adorable. So sweet. I’d adopt her in a heartbeat. I can’t believe someone could be so cruel.” “Well, it’s her own fault she can’t have kids. Now she’s taking it out on a child. The CEO really has it rough, married to a shrew like that.” Suddenly, a message from Pathy appeared: “Anyone who spreads rumors will be fired.” The chat went silent. I sneered. So Pathy was the big boss now, was she? She’d really leveraged her position to become Collin’s executive assistant. 4 A few days later, I came home to find a mountain of trash piled outside my front door. It was everything I owned from the Hayes’ house, dumped unceremoniously on the pavement. Lying in the dirt was my favorite teddy bear, a gift from Collin. It was filthy. I stared at it for a long time before finally picking it up. It was the first gift he ever gave me. The night we made our relationship official, I’d had a sudden craving for a teddy bear. It was late, and most of the stores were closed. Collin ran nearly ten miles before he found a little shop that was still open. It was a cheap, simple bear. I had seen countless others that were more intricate, more beautiful. But for some reason, that one had captured my heart. It had become my most treasured possession. I took a picture of the scene and sent it to him. “You really know how to fake sincerity, don’t you?” I texted. It took him hours to reply. “Lily, that wasn’t me. I would never, ever do something like that!” I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I blocked his number. That evening, a torrential downpour began, raindrops hammering against the glass. The doorbell rang. I opened it to find Collin standing there, soaked to the bone. Water dripped from his clothes, and his wet hair was plastered to his forehead, his jaw clenched tight. “Get inside,” I said. I tried to pull him in, but he wouldn’t budge. “No. Not until you forgive me.” “Then stand outside,” I said, and shut the door in his face. A little while later, I checked the security camera. He was gone. I let out a bitter laugh. I was such a fool for ever believing him. The rain lasted all night. When I opened the door the next morning, he was there again. Wearing the same drenched clothes, still dripping wet. “Can you forgive me now, Lily?” he asked, his voice raw with misery. “I’ve been out here all night.” “What are you trying to pull?” Before I could say more, Pathy appeared, running toward us in a panic. She rushed to Collin’s side, helping him up. “Are you insane?” she screamed at me. “You let my brother stand in the rain all night? What kind of monster are you? Just because your body is broken, you have to make everyone else miserable? You’re disgusting!” Collin put on a show of being hurt, pretending to hold her back but not saying a single word in my defense. The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh. I was done wasting my breath on them. Pathy shoved her phone in my face. “See for yourself what a horrible person you are. My brother may tolerate you, but the rest of the world won’t put up with your princess attitude.” On the screen was a video of Rosie being interviewed by a reporter. She was recounting the story of how I had rejected her because of her birthmark, crying pitifully the entire time. The agency director was there too, confirming my cold and heartless behavior that day. The entire internet was crucifying me. “Oh my god, Rosie is so precious. How could she say those things to a child? That little girl must be so traumatized.” “She’s so young and already so mature. She almost had a home, and then this happens.” “My heart breaks for her. I didn’t even see the birthmark until she pointed it out. That woman was just looking for trouble.” Everyone was attacking me. My identity was leaked. People started throwing eggs at my family’s company building every day. The company’s stock plummeted. I was public enemy number one. Seeing the worry etched on my parents’ faces when they came home each night made me want to scream the truth from the rooftops. “Don’t worry,” I told them. “When the press conference happens, I’ll make them all pay.” On the day of the press conference, the entrance was swarmed with reporters. The moment I appeared, cameras and microphones were shoved in my face, the flashbulbs blinding me. I ignored them and walked expressionlessly to the stage. A few minutes later, Collin and his family arrived. My former in-laws looked at me with pure disgust, not even gracing me with a glance. Behind them was Pathy, holding Rosie in her arms. Good. Everyone was here. As soon as I sat down, the questions started flying. “Ms. Xu, what is your response to the recent incident at the adoption agency?” “Ms. Xu, is it true you refused to adopt Rosie because of the birthmark on her hand?” … I took the microphone. “It is true,” I said slowly, “that I refused to adopt Rosie because of the birthmark on her hand.” The room erupted. “But first,” I continued, “I have two things I want to show everyone.”

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After a year of business trips overshadowing our marriage, I guiltily planned an anniversary surprise—only to find our estate packed with guests. A crimson banner gleamed: “WELCOME THE NEWEST SUTTON HEIR!” Mom and Dad had a late miracle, I mused, until an unfamiliar guard barked: “No invitation, no entry. Get lost!” Then I saw him. My husband Trevor cradling a baby, kissing my spoiled adopted sister Jessica on the red carpet. My parents beamed at them. A bitter laugh tore from my throat. The “heir” wasn’t my sibling. It was my husband’s love child—and I’d just become a mother by betrayal. 1 “Hey! Stop right there!” The unfamiliar guard stepped in front of my car, his eyes dripping with disdain. “Who do you think you are, trying to barge in here? This is a private estate.” “Now get this piece of junk out of the driveway before I have it towed!” I was baffled. My assistant, Sarah, looked equally confused. She rolled down the window. “Open the gate immediately,” she said, her voice crisp. “And inform everyone that Ms. Sutton has returned.” The guard looked at her as if she’d told the funniest joke in the world. He snorted, a look of pure contempt on his face. “You’re Ms. Sutton? And I’m the King of England. Get out of here before I call the cops on you for trespassing.” He waved a dismissive hand. “We’re celebrating a happy occasion today. We don’t have time for beggars like you.” I was speechless, a hot flush of anger rising in my chest. This estate was my marital home. I’d been overseas for a year securing financing, and in my absence, they had hired this vulgar oaf? My brow furrowed. “You’re fired,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “The Sutton family does not employ people who judge others by their appearance.” Sarah nodded, pulling out her phone. “I’m calling HR now. The guard at the suburban estate is to be terminated immediately. Find someone with a working pair of eyes. I don’t want any more strays guarding the gate.” The guard’s face went rigid with panic. He lunged, snatching Sarah’s phone and smashing it on the asphalt. “Don’t push your luck, you crazy bitch! You really want to keep this act up?” he snarled, his face red with fury. He grabbed my car door. “This is the christening for President Sutton’s daughter! You think you can waltz in here without an invitation, pretending to be some rich lady?” “Fire me? Ha! I’m about to have you arrested!” He yanked Sarah out of the car before she could react. She struggled against his grip. “What nonsense are you talking about? The president has been overseas! There is no child—” I shot out of the car and kicked the guard square in the gut. “Open your damn eyes and see who you’re talking to!” He crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach. “You bitch! You’ll be the one in trouble for assault and impersonating Ms. Sutton!” He was so insistent, so utterly convinced I was an imposter, that a sliver of doubt crept into my mind. Just then, Sarah pointed toward the estate, her voice trembling. “Ma’am… Catherine… look. On the stage. Isn’t that… isn’t that Mr. Grant?” I followed her gaze. Inside, a massive outdoor screen was broadcasting the ceremony live. The stage was drowning in flowers, bathed in brilliant lights. And there he was: Trevor, my husband of one year, holding a baby. He pulled a woman into a possessive embrace. It was my sister, Jessica. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a lingering kiss. “Honey,” she cooed, “you’ve worked so hard on our daughter’s christening!” The sight of their intimacy sent a blaze of fury through me. Sarah gasped. “Ms. Sutton, why is Jessica with Mr. Grant?!” Her question was like gasoline on a fire. The green-eyed monster wasn’t jealousy; it was the realization that my head was now home to a thriving forest of antlers. 2 The wind whipped around me, making the banner’s golden letters dance mockingly. Each word was a slap in the face. It wasn’t my parents adding to the family. It was my good-for-nothing adopted sister, the cuckoo in my nest, who had climbed into my husband’s bed and made me a mother without my consent. The betrayal was one thing. But for her to dare to steal my very identity? I built this family’s fortune. Sutton Enterprises was the culmination of years of my blood, sweat, and tears. I’m gone for one year, and I come back to find my position as President has been usurped? What was next? Would I be thrown out onto the street? This was intolerable. I kicked the groaning guard aside and barked at my assistant, “Sarah, get on your other phone. Call every single shareholder in the company. I want to see who dares to be so insolent to my face.” Fifteen minutes later, a fleet of luxury cars streamed up the driveway. A crowd of familiar, powerful faces emerged. With Sarah at my side and a phalanx of the city’s wealthiest investors surrounding me, I marched straight into my own home. This time, no one dared to stop me. The moment I entered the banquet hall, I saw her. Jessica, holding court, a triumphant smile on her face. Our formidable group immediately caught her attention. Her smile vanished. She slammed her champagne flute down and stormed toward us. “Who are you people? I didn’t invite you! Get out of my house!” “Security! Get these lunatics out of here! Don’t let them ruin my family’s party!” The sheer arrogance of it. A year away, and she had certainly learned how to play the lady of the manor. Her words sent a ripple of outrage through the shareholders. I gave Sarah a look. She stepped forward, her voice ringing with authority. “I’d like to see anyone try.” She gestured to the men and women behind me. “Open your eyes and see exactly who you’re talking to.” One of the shareholders, a grizzled veteran of the board, spoke up, his voice booming with anger. “Indeed! The audacity! We are the primary shareholders of Sutton Enterprises. We are here to celebrate the birth of President Sutton’s child. And who are you to be barking orders at us?” “What President Sutton?” Jessica’s face paled slightly. The shareholder scoffed. “The one and only heir, of course. The President of Sutton Enterprises, Catherine Sutton!” “Catherine Sutton? There’s only one President Sutton, and that’s me, Jessica Sutton!” A flicker of panic crossed her face, but it was quickly replaced by a smug confidence. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if you anger me, you’re making an enemy of the entire Sutton corporation!” Then, her eyes finally focused on me in the center of the crowd. She let out a shriek. “You! How are you back?!” I met her gaze coolly. “Even a three-year-old knows that Catherine Sutton is the president. You claim the title, yet you don’t even recognize the company’s own shareholders. Don’t you find that a little pathetic?” Her face flushed with anger and humiliation. “How do I know they’re real shareholders and not just actors you hired? Catherine, you’re just jealous of me!” A malicious smile touched her lips. “This is my daughter’s christening. Did you bring all these people here to crash it? Too bad for you, dear sister. I’m the one in charge of this family now.” I looked at her, a complex mix of anger and sorrow churning inside me. “Jessica, do Mom and Dad know you’re doing this? Even if everyone else in this family recognizes you, our parents would never stand for this.” 3 At the mention of our parents, a strange, knowing smile spread across Jessica’s face. “Sister, I suggest you take a seat and have a drink. You wouldn’t want to make a scene and embarrass yourself.” My eyes turned cold. “The only person who will be embarrassed is you. Mom and Dad need to know about the stupid things you’ve done. Our family has standards. We don’t tolerate vermin like you.” “Whether you’re tolerated or not,” Jessica sneered, “is not up to you.” “Mom and Dad are busy. It’s best not to disturb them.” “You mean you don’t dare contact them,” I shot back, my voice radiating cold fury. “Today, in front of every major shareholder, you are going to explain exactly what you think you’re doing by impersonating me.” My words ignited the crowd. Murmurs turned to angry shouts. All around us, people were pointing at Jessica, their faces masks of contempt. “Who allowed you to cause such a commotion here?” A deep voice cut through the noise. It was my husband, Trevor, a man I hadn’t seen in a year. He held the baby in his arms, his face a thundercloud of rage as he pushed through the crowd. When he saw my face, he froze, pure panic flashing in his eyes. But then his gaze fell on Jessica, and it was as if he’d found his anchor. His composure returned in an instant. “My wife is the heart of this family,” he announced, his voice cool and arrogant. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out.” He scanned the faces of the shareholders. “Together, my wife and I control thirty percent of this company. That makes her the president. Anyone who defies her is making an enemy of the entire Sutton family.” He looked down his nose at us, radiating an air of untouchable superiority. The shareholders exchanged uneasy glances. No one had expected this. Sarah leaned in, whispering frantically. “Ma’am, Jessica only holds a five percent stake, and Mr. Grant has two percent. How could they possibly…” My face paled as the same question screamed through my mind. It was true. Even if Jessica had bought out some minor shareholders, there was no way she could have amassed thirty percent in such a short time… Unless… An alarm bell shrieked in my head, and a sudden, inexplicable dread seized me.

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Ever since my husband died, his Golden Retriever had been suffering from depression. Then my brother-in-law offered to take him for walks in the evening. Miraculously, my dog, Buddy, recovered. I thought maybe it was because my brother-in-law and my husband were identical twins, looking almost exactly alike. From then on, my brother-in-law, Liam, took him for a walk every single night. But watching Liam, the spitting image of my late husband, so happy with Buddy… I couldn’t bear it any longer. Finally, at my mother-in-law’s sixtieth birthday party, I called the police and told them my brother-in-law had raped me. Everyone thought I was insane. “You’re accusing him of rape just because he likes walking your dog?” I nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly why.” 1 “Anna! How could you say something like that?” Liam’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. His voice trembled, his wide eyes bloodshot with disbelief. In stark contrast to his agitation, I was unnervingly calm. “I’m just stating a fact. Are you going to deny that you and I have ever been intimate?” Seeing this, my mother-in-law began to shake with rage. She snatched a bowl of steaming hot soup from the table and, without a word, hurled it straight at my face. “You damn jinx! It wasn’t enough that you killed my eldest son, now you’re trying to destroy my youngest?” she shrieked. “What did our family ever do to deserve a monster like you?” The scalding liquid rushed toward me. Before I could even flinch, a figure lunged in front of me. “Ah!” Liam cried out in pain as the hot soup splashed all over his arm, the skin instantly flushing an angry red. I ignored my mother-in-law’s tirade, my gaze falling coldly on Liam. He gritted his teeth against the searing pain, yet his face was a mask of concern as he reached for me. “Anna, are you okay?” I recoiled, yanking myself away from his touch, my eyes filled with undisguised disgust. “Wipe that sickeningly noble look off your face,” I seethed. “Aren’t you tired of the act?” The expression on Liam’s face froze. A child’s wail cut through the tension. It was Liam’s five-year-old daughter. She stumbled toward me, clinging desperately to my leg. “Aunt Anna, please don’t hurt my daddy!” she sobbed. My sister-in-law, Jessica, rushed over, pulling her daughter behind her. She pointed a finger in my face, her voice a shrill accusation. “Anna, have you no shame? My husband helps you out of the goodness of his heart, and this is how you repay him? Did you try to seduce him and, when you failed, decide to ruin him?” “You black widow!” she screamed. “Your husband dies, so now you’re trying to steal someone else’s!” Then came my own mother’s furious roar, followed by a slap so hard my head spun. “How did I raise a monster like you!” “Have you gone crazy from loneliness? You slut!” I staggered, nearly falling to the floor, my cheek burning. Ignoring his own pain, Liam was the first to try and steady me. “Auntie, please don’t hit her! I’m sure she has her reasons!” He maintained his posture as the kind, innocent victim in everyone’s eyes. “Anna,” he pleaded, “if you’re unhappy with me about something, we can talk it out. You don’t have to scare me like this. Haven’t we all gotten along just fine these last three years since Ryan passed? I’m sure whatever misunderstanding this is, it doesn’t mean our family has to fall apart.” Liam’s seemingly casual words only enraged his wife, Jessica, further. “Liam, are you an idiot?” she shrieked. “She’s accusing you of rape! Do you have any idea how many men have their lives destroyed by false accusations like this online?” With that, Jessica grabbed a glass of iced tea from the table and flung it at me. “I think she’s had too much to drink!” she yelled. “Let’s sober her up!” 2 I had no time to dodge. The cold tea drenched my face. The tea leaves stung my eyes, and I fumbled blindly for a napkin. In the ensuing chaos, Liam cried out, “Jessica, don’t do this to her!” He immediately found a towel and began dabbing at my face. “This is a family matter,” he said, his voice a soothing balm. “We can just sit down and talk through this misunderstanding.” Even as he faced a sea of accusing stares, he stood firmly by my side. His forgiveness and gentleness only highlighted my own cold cruelty. Seeing me cornered by everyone, yet still stubbornly clinging to my accusation, my mother-in-law finally broke. With a sudden thud, she fell to her knees right in front of me, in the middle of her own birthday party, surrounded by all her friends and family. “Anna, I’m begging you! I’m on my knees!” Her face was a mess of tears as she clutched at my pant leg. “Ryan is already gone. Liam is the only son I have left. You can’t destroy him!” “Is it my pension you want? My house? I’ll give you everything! Just please, I’m begging you!” A sixty-year-old woman, at her own birthday celebration, kneeling and pleading with her daughter-in-law. Everyone glared at me, their eyes burning with a hatred so intense it felt like they wanted to tear me apart. But my face hardened. I ignored the woman on the floor and kept my gaze locked on Liam. “I don’t want your money,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “I want him to face the consequences he deserves.” A wave of condemnation washed over me. My husband’s cousin flexed his fist, stalking toward me. “You ungrateful snake. I’m going to beat the hell out of you for my cousin’s sake.” My mother grabbed my ear, yanking my head to the side as she slapped me again. “I’m giving you one last chance. Tell the police this was all a misunderstanding! Otherwise, I’ll disown you!” I licked the blood from the corner of my lip and let out a hollow laugh. “Do what you want.” “No one is changing my mind.” Liam wiped the tears from his face, his expression a mask of pure anguish as he stood in front of me. “Anna, I didn’t do it!” The wail of sirens grew closer. I stared hard at Liam, catching the flicker of panic in his eyes. “If you won’t admit it,” I said, “then we’ll let the police sort it out.” As I turned to walk toward the door, Liam’s daughter rushed forward again, crying and grabbing the hem of my coat, refusing to let go. “Aunt Anna, please… don’t lie about my daddy…” Her heart-wrenching plea moved everyone in the room. I hardened my heart, pried her small fingers from my coat, and, in front of everyone, walked to meet the police officers stepping into the room. I sat in the police car, still dripping with tea, making no effort to clean myself up, letting the drops fall from the ends of my hair. My mind drifted back, uncontrollably, to that night a month ago. That night, Liam had come back from his usual walk with Buddy. I’d bought some takeout and a few beers to thank him. Under the soft glow of the lamp, his face—a perfect copy of Ryan’s—and his bright, easy smile as he played with Buddy made me feel dizzy, as if my dead husband had returned to me. The alcohol blurred my reason and magnified my longing. After a few drinks, I found myself staring at him, and he was staring back at me. His usually clear eyes were now filled with a tender, complex emotion I couldn’t decipher… The memory stopped there. I was trembling uncontrollably, my face streaked with tears I hadn’t realized I was crying. 3 When I was released from the station, I had nowhere to go. I had burned my bridges with Liam’s family; there was no going back there. Dragging my exhausted body, I found a hotel, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and a long sleep. But when I handed over my ID, the receptionist gave me a strange look. She pushed the card back across the counter with a practiced, thin-lipped smile. “I’m sorry, miss, but we’re fully booked.” I pointed to the electronic sign next to her, which clearly showed vacancies. Her smile turned condescending. “Well, a small establishment like ours can’t afford any… trouble,” she said. “What if you were staying with us and decided one of our male staff members had improper intentions? We couldn’t defend ourselves against that, could we?” I heard a few muffled snickers from nearby, followed by blatant, pointing whispers. “That’s her… the crazy woman from the internet who accused her brother-in-law of rape!” “God, she looks so normal. How can someone be so toxic?” A cold dread washed over me. I immediately pulled out my phone. Sure enough, I was famous. Liam had posted an edited version of the restaurant’s security footage online. The title was pure clickbait: Vicious Widow Accuses Saintly Brother-in-Law of Rape in Bitter Revenge Plot. The comments section was a flood of “eyewitness” accounts from friends and family: “Liam is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. He’s been taking care of his widowed sister-in-law for three years without complaint.” “She’s clearly mentally unstable to go this far!” “Anna’s been a widow for three years. She’s obviously lonely and desperate. She saw her brother-in-law looked just like her dead husband and got twisted ideas.” “Did you see that poor little girl? Begging her not to frame her dad? It’s heartbreaking. This woman is a monster!” Liam’s repeated acts of patience and his desperate pleas had filled the internet with a torrent of vitriol directed at me. I had become a pariah. With nowhere else to go, I ended up back at the office, sleeping slumped over my desk. The next morning, I was jolted awake by my boss’s furious voice. “Anna! What are you still doing here?” He slammed a file down on my desk. “Look what you’ve done! Your mess is affecting the company’s reputation!” “The company has decided to terminate your employment, effective immediately. Get out. Now.” I walked out of the office, clutching a cardboard box with my personal belongings, my body numb. I hadn’t even made it out of the building before I was swarmed by a pack of reporters who had somehow gotten wind of my location. “Why would you accuse your brother-in-law of rape over a dog-walking incident? Is there something more to this story?” “We’ve heard that you made multiple advances toward him and were rejected. Is that why you lashed out in revenge?” “Many legal experts have stated that a baseless accusation like this could land you in prison if he decides to countersue. Are you still determined to ruin your husband’s only brother?” I didn’t try to hide. I let the countless cameras and malicious glares surround me. I knew what they wanted: to paint me as a sexually frustrated, predatory harpy who had failed to seduce her brother-in-law. A venomous feminist weaponizing false accusations. Suddenly, Liam’s angry shout cut through the noise. “Leave my sister-in-law alone! If you have questions, ask me!” Seeing Liam shield me from the crowd, someone in the pack of reporters sighed audibly. “Wow, even after she’s tried to destroy him, he’s still protecting her. What a good man!” My stomach churned as Liam put a caring hand on my arm, promising to protect me. I was the only one who knew what a selfish, soulless monster was hiding behind that mask of kindness. My anger boiled over. I shoved him away with all my strength. “Will you ever stop?” I screamed. “This is all your fault, and now you’re playing the hero?” Liam stumbled backward and fell hard to the ground. “Oh my god, she’s attacking him!” Liam’s feigned innocence sent the crowd into a frenzy. A hail of water bottles pelted me. “A woman like that deserves no forgiveness!” someone yelled. “In the old days, they would have drowned her!” Liam scrambled to his feet, a look of profound shock on his face. “Anna, do you really have to make this so ugly?” Clutching my forehead where a bottle had split the skin, I nodded, my eyes burning with hatred. Liam’s eyes reddened instantly. He clenched his fists and, in front of all the cameras, issued a public warning to me. “If you’re going to be this stubborn, then don’t blame me for forgetting we’re family,” he declared. “I will hire the best lawyer and prove my innocence in a court of law!”

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At ten, I learned my billionaire father was unfaithful. My mother left, telling me before she died: “Rich men are heartless, Olivia. But if you can, marry a poor one.” So when my startup-boyfriend kept failing, I stayed. First bankruptcy: Sold my guitar, became a bar singer. Second: Traded singing for serving drinks in a short skirt. Third: He shoved a $300K IOU at me. As I debated calling Dad, I overheard Ethan boasting: “She’s paying my debts. Next step? Maybe selling herself—though I’d draw the line there.” Smiling, I called my father: “Thanks for the texts. I’m coming home.” 1 I hung up the phone. The muffled laughter from inside the private room was starting to grate on my nerves. As I turned to leave, the door swung open. Ethan stood there. He was clearly surprised to see me, freezing for a split second before his expression morphed into one of carefully crafted distress. “Liv,” he started, his voice heavy with false regret, “I’m so sorry. My startup failed again. This time, I owe… three hundred thousand dollars.” His performance was flawless. He gestured vaguely at the room behind him. “I just asked all my friends. No one is willing to help me. You’re the only one I can count on now.” I looked at his head-to-toe designer clothes, then down at my own ridiculously short work uniform, chosen specifically to sell more drinks. The irony was suffocating. A cold laugh escaped my lips. “I’ve already given you all my savings. How else do you expect me to help? Sell me? Sell my body to pay off your debts?” We had been together for three years. In that time, he’d gone bankrupt twice, and both times, I was the one who bailed him out. The first time, to make extra money, I worked my nine-to-five desk job during the day and spent my nights running between bars, my guitar my only companion. Ethan had watched me, his eyes red with unshed tears, and swore he would give me the world one day. The second time, I sold the limited-edition guitar my mother had given me, quit my stable job, and became a full-time cocktail waitress, all for that pathetic sixty-cent commission per beer. Just a few days ago, I had finally paid off his last mountain of debt. I thought we could finally be together without that constant, crushing weight. But now, a third failure, and a new three-hundred-thousand-dollar debt, had arrived right on schedule. If I hadn’t overheard that conversation, I might have continued to believe his lie—that every debt, every failure, was just a stepping stone to a better future for us. Who could have guessed it was all an elaborate, cruel game designed just for me? My unwavering love was nothing but a series of tests for his amusement. Ethan’s brow furrowed. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door opened again. His sycophantic friends spilled out. “Hey, Olivia. So, Ethan’s in the hole for another three hundred K. When do you think you can pay it off? How about this—I’ll buy you… and all your drinks for the night. Consider it me helping you with the debt.” “I call dibs on her… drinks tomorrow! I’ll pay double.” “Don’t worry, Olivia. Ethan won’t mind. We’re just trying to help you out, you know?” They smirked, their words dripping with innuendo, as they bid on me like I was a piece of meat. And they had the gall to say they were “helping.” A bitter smile touched my lips. I looked at Ethan. He just stood there, impassive, his face a mask of anticipation, as if waiting for my answer. In that moment, the last shred of affection I had for him evaporated. I nodded, my voice devoid of emotion. “Sure. Cash or credit?” Ethan flinched, clearly not expecting that. In his mind, I was poor, yes, but I had standards. I would never sell myself for money. His face darkened, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Olivia,” he said, his voice cold, “we can find another way. You don’t have to say things like that just to spite me. If you’re really thinking of selling yourself to pay this off, I’d rather let the loan sharks break my legs!” He turned and walked away. Watching his retreating back, I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely disappointed in me, or if this was just another tactic to force my hand. It didn’t matter anymore. The main actor had left the stage. His friends, losing interest, dispersed without another word about buying drinks. I let out a self-deprecating laugh and went to find the bar manager. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I need to quit.” 2 After changing out of my work uniform, I went home and started packing. Not my things. Ethan’s. The apartment was a gift from my mother. Even if I was returning to my father’s world, this place would always be my sanctuary. Ethan didn’t come home that night. The next morning, just as I was about to call and tell him to pick up his stuff, there was a knock on the door. A group of people I didn’t know walked in, looking around the apartment assessingly. “Hi, I’m from the real estate agency. I’m here to show the apartment to some clients.” I frowned. “An agency? A showing? I’m not selling my apartment. Who sent you?” The agent looked just as confused. “A Mr. Ethan Hayes. He said he was in a hurry to sell and that we could list it at a low price to get it off the market quickly.” It was absurd. He had faked poverty and debt to bleed me dry of my savings. He’d made me sell my most prized possession to pay his fabricated debts. And now, this monster was trying to sell the only thing my mother had left me. He was trying to take even more from me. I kicked the agent and his clients out. Before I could even call Ethan, he showed up, looking frantic. “Olivia, why did you send the agent away? If we don’t sell the apartment, how are you going to pay back the three hundred thousand? Don’t tell me you’re actually going to sell yourself?” I was the one who had been deceived, played, and left with nothing. But he was the one acting desperate. And he had the audacity to stand there, on his moral high ground, and accuse me of something I hadn’t even done. A thousand tiny needles of pain pierced my heart. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Ethan, you’re even after the apartment my mother left me. Haven’t you had enough fun yet?” “We’re breaking up.” His expression froze. For a moment, he looked genuinely panicked, but then, as if remembering something, his face twisted into a sarcastic sneer. “So, when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Olivia, I really misjudged you. It turns out you’ve been looking down on me this whole time. You said you’d never leave me, but now you’re walking out when I’m at my lowest. Are you really that obsessed with money?” I had said I’d never leave him. I had said I wouldn’t care if he had nothing. But those promises were based on the belief that he was working hard for our future. Not that he would use my promises as a get-out-of-jail-free card to play with my heart and feed his twisted ego. I wiped my tears and retreated to the bedroom. No matter how loudly he yelled for an explanation, I didn’t come out. Finally, I heard the heavy slam of the front door. A moment later, my phone rang. It was the bar manager. She said there was a problem with my resignation and asked me to come in. “Olivia, I’m in a tough spot here. Some customers are saying you promised to sell them drinks last night. Now that you’ve quit, they’re causing a huge scene because you’re not here.” I remembered. In my anger, I had agreed to his friends’ disgusting proposition. I couldn’t believe they were still clinging to it. This was between me and Ethan. I didn’t want to drag anyone else into it. I hung up and rushed to the bar. The manager looked frantic. “Olivia, the owner said that if you don’t go in there and sort out those customers, you’ll have to pay for the bar’s losses. And it’s a lot of money… I think he said three hundred thousand…” Another three hundred thousand. I frowned, a bad feeling creeping over me. “Manager, what’s the owner’s last name?” My sudden question seemed to throw her off. She looked at me, puzzled. “Hayes,” she said, a hint of suspicion in her voice. “Don’t you know? Mr. Hayes was the one who arranged for you to work here in the first place.” 3 It all clicked into place. Three years ago, he was the one who suggested I sing at the club. My mother had just passed away. My father, wanting me to come home, was constantly trying to contact me. In a fit of anger, I blocked all his numbers and went to a bar to get drunk. That was the night I met Ethan. He thought I was a working-class girl who had run away from a family that favored sons over daughters. I thought he was a down-on-his-luck but good-hearted man. I remembered my mother’s words: rich men are heartless; find someone poor but kind. Don’t end up with someone like your father, whose heart belongs to another. So I listened to my mother. Ethan and I got together. I dreamed of the day we would build a life together, successful and happy. But the reality was this: he got me a job singing and selling drinks in his club, where I had to grovel and please sleazy customers every night, fending off their wandering hands. And him? He spent his days living a life of luxury, all under the guise of “networking for his business.” I was such a fool. “Olivia… you’re not Mr. Hayes’s girlfriend, are you?” the manager asked, her eyes wide. “I heard a rumor that he was testing his girlfriend, to see if she was worthy of marrying into the Hayes family. Did you quit because you passed the test? Are you going to be a billionaire’s wife?” Passed the test. How ironic. The person who had made my life a living hell for three years was Ethan. The person who stood by and watched as men pawed at me was Ethan. The person who had his friends pretend to be customers, just to torment me for his own amusement, was Ethan. He knew I was being forced to drink until I was sick, until I had bleeding ulcers, just to make a little extra money. And yet, he sat in his exclusive VIP booth with his pack of hyenas, watching me dance to their tune. The thought was so absurd, I almost laughed through my tears. I turned away and dialed my father’s number. “Dad,” I said, my voice shaking, “I want to come home now. Can you come get me?” My father let out a long, relieved sigh. “Of course,” was all he said. Just after I sent him my location, I heard a group of voices. “Well, well, if it isn’t Ethan’s little cocktail waitress. Shouldn’t you be inside, selling drinks?” It was Ethan’s friends. Their leering gazes felt like nails pinning me to a cross. “You promised to sell to us last night, and today you not only go back on your word, but you try to break up with Ethan?” “What, you think he’s not rich enough for you? Looking for a sugar daddy?” “Well, we’ve got money. If you’re willing, I’ll give you three hundred thousand right now. You can pay off your debt.” Who owed whom? And what exactly did they want me to sell? They knew perfectly well. But at this point, I didn’t have to play their games anymore. “I’m sorry,” I said coldly, “I don’t owe anyone three hundred thousand dollars. And I’ve already quit. If you want to buy drinks, you can find someone else. As for Ethan, I’ve broken up with him. From now on, anything to do with him has nothing to do with me.” I tried to walk away, but a hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back. It was Ethan. His face was a mask of fury. “Olivia, all you care about is money, isn’t it? You’re dumping me so you can sell yourself to someone else? I am so disappointed in you.” Disappointed? Funny. I was disappointed, too. Even now, he was still acting. Three years of my life, my unconditional love and devotion… And it couldn’t earn me even a shred of his trust. Fine, Ethan. I’m done with your twisted games.

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1 The merger of New York’s two most powerful dynasties shocked the world—until I caught my fiancée, Sienna Hayes, kissing the scholarship student she sponsored at our engagement party. “Emmet, it’s not what it looks like.” She hastily adjusted her couture gown, cheeks flushed. I laughed coldly as the man fumbled with his collar. “Blind, am I?” I threw the ring at her feet. “Finish this engagement, or your family goes bankrupt. Choose.” Defiant, she retrieved it. “Fine.” But when the ceremony began, she walked past me—straight to him. “The man I love has always been Ryan,” she declared. “I’ll never marry a bastard like you!” The room erupted. Gasps. Mockery. Cameras flashing. And I, Emmet Reed, became New York’s biggest joke. As she kissed him, my heart turned to ash. You betrayed me first, Sienna. Don’t blame me for burning your world down. … “Mr. Reed, the company’s stock has already plummeted by 30%.” My assistant reported the news with his head bowed, his voice trembling. I stared at my phone. The top five trending topics were all about the engagement party fiasco. Under the hashtag #HeiressDefiesArrangedMarriageForLove, the comments were a firestorm of outrage. “Who does this Reed guy think he is? The girl has a true love, and he tries to force her into a marriage? What a shameless scumbag. He deserved to be dumped!” “Sienna Hayes, you are an icon! Show this bastard what karma looks like!” “Reed Corp should just go bankrupt. A trash company like that doesn’t deserve to exist!” Page after page, it was a public trial, and I was the villain. I scrolled through them calmly, my expression unreadable, until a notification for Sienna’s latest post popped up. 【Finally free. Heading toward a new future with the one I love.】 The accompanying photo was a close-up of her hand intertwined with Ryan’s. The engagement ring that was supposed to be ours was now on another man’s finger. I stared at the words for a long time, and then, I laughed. “Get the legal team on the line. I want them to activate the highest-level penalty clause in our contract. Terminate all partnerships with the Hayes Corporation. Immediately.” My assistant’s hand visibly shook. “Sir… shouldn’t we release a statement first? To explain? The entire internet is crucifying you right now…” “What is there to explain?” I cut him off, slamming my phone down on the desk. “I have no time to waste on a treacherous woman like her.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, the familiar ache of a migraine starting, and sank into the plush leather of the sofa. The memories came flooding back. Five years ago, the Hayes family was on the brink of ruin. At a high-profile auction, she had stubbornly kept bidding, trying to save her family’s last ancestral home. The entire room was waiting for her to make a fool of herself. But I saw the fire in her eyes, the refusal to surrender. So I stepped in, bought the estate, and gifted it to her, no strings attached. Back then, she had nothing. She saw me as her lifeline, kneeling at my feet and promising, “Emmet Reed, if you save my family, I will do anything for you.” I had chuckled and helped her up. “Anything? Then marry me.” Her eyes had flashed with anger, but also with a glimmer of something else. To help her family’s company recover, I’d drank myself into a bleeding ulcer at business dinners. She had stayed by my hospital bed, her eyes red, and whispered, “Emmet, don’t you ever do that again.” Seeing her looking at me like I was her entire world, I thought it was all worth it. I thought we were each other’s salvation. I used the Reed Corporation’s resources and my own network to help her rebuild her family’s business empire. I taught her how to be a savvy businesswoman. The Hayes Corporation went from a struggling startup to a global powerhouse. But somewhere along the way, our relationship soured. She started resisting my touch, fighting my decisions. She began to romanticize the past, a simpler time she imagined she’d lost. And that was when Ryan, the scholarship student, appeared. She projected all her nostalgia, all her yearning for a life unburdened by wealth and power, onto him. A month before the engagement, I had warned her directly. “Sienna, I don’t need to tell you how important this merger is. I expect you to act accordingly.” She’d toyed with her teacup, her reply dismissive. “Don’t be so dramatic, Emmet. I just see Ryan as a little brother. His family is struggling. What’s wrong with helping him out?” “He’s a grown man,” I’d reminded her, my voice low. “He can get a job.” She’d slammed her cup down. “It’s not the same! When did you become so cold-hearted? You’re nothing but a cynical, money-obsessed businessman now! Ryan is so much purer than you!” It was in that moment that I understood. She was no longer the girl who needed me. And she was desperate to escape my control. I decided to take a step back, to treat her as nothing more than a business partner. As long as she played her part, everything could proceed as planned. But I forgot one crucial thing: people change. Especially when they convince themselves they are the victim. The door to my office was thrown open. Sienna stormed in, radiating fury, with Ryan trailing timidly behind her. I glanced up at her, my voice cold. “What is it?” She pulled a document from her purse and slapped it onto my desk. “Let’s call off the engagement.” She pulled Ryan into a chair beside her. “Let’s just end this amicably. For our own dignity.” I laughed. “Sienna, you have the nerve to talk about dignity? Where was your dignity last night when you publicly humiliated my family at our engagement party?” I stood up, planting my hands on the desk, and loomed over her. “You didn’t just ruin an engagement party. You destroyed a three-year strategic alliance between our families. You jeopardized the next five years of commercial development for this entire city. Are you telling me you didn’t know that?!” She gave a mocking smile and leaned back, her posture arrogant. “Of course I knew.” “All you ever see is profit! You even turned our engagement into a business transaction!” Ryan tugged at her sleeve, his voice barely a whisper. “Emmet, sir… please don’t blame Sienna. It’s all my fault. I… I couldn’t control my feelings…” “Shut up!” I roared, cutting him off. “No one asked you to speak!” Ryan’s face went white, and he immediately fell silent. The sight of his fear seemed to ignite something in Sienna. She shot to her feet, pointing a finger at me. “Emmet Reed, that’s enough! Just because you helped me once doesn’t mean you get to control my life forever! Every single day with you has been suffocating! You didn’t help my family or drink yourself sick for me! You did it to solidify your own empire! And I was just the most obedient pawn in your game!” Every word was a knife to the heart. I took a deep breath and met her eyes. “So, in your eyes, from the moment I bought your family’s estate, I was just using you?” “When I chartered a private jet to fly in the world’s top specialists for your father’s surgery, that was also an act?” “Sienna, do you even have a heart?” Her eyes flickered with a moment of uncertainty. I smiled, but my eyes were bloodshot. “Sienna, I’m going to ask you one last time.” “Did you ever—” “I loved you!” she blurted out, her face a mask of defiant anger. “Happy now? Did you need to hear that pathetic answer before you’d finally let it go?” Then, in a final act of provocation, she looped her arm through Ryan’s and placed her other hand on her stomach. “But things are different now.” “I’m pregnant with Ryan’s child. I have to do right by them.” The truth, so sudden and brutal, hit me like a physical blow. So that was it. I was just a pawn in their twisted little love story. The very next day, Sienna held a press conference. I sat in my office, watching the news feed, my face an impassive mask. Sienna’s eyes were red-rimmed and her face was pale, the carefully applied makeup unable to hide her exhaustion. Ryan sat beside her, looking like he was bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. “First, I want to sincerely apologize to everyone who has been following this,” she began, her voice catching with a practiced sob. “For five years, I have been repaying a debt of gratitude. Every moment of every day, I’ve had to live under the thumb of the Reed family! A single contract decided the course of my entire life.” She spoke with a tearful choke in her voice for the entire speech. Only when she spoke of Ryan did a genuine smile touch her lips. “Only Ryan cared about what I truly wanted.” She wiped away a non-existent tear. “I admit, Emmet Reed is a brilliant businessman. The Hayes Corporation wouldn’t be where it is today without his help.” But in the next breath, her words turned sharp. “But he controlled every aspect of my life. Which clients I met with, which restaurants I dined at. Even the gowns I wore to galas and the jewelry I was allowed to put on were all pre-approved by him. I felt like a puppet, a marionette with no thoughts of my own, living completely in his shadow.” Ryan, on cue, wrapped a protective arm around her trembling shoulders and cried to the cameras, “Sienna just wanted to be her own person! I couldn’t bear to see her in so much pain! Mr. Reed… I’m so sorry. Please, I’m begging you, just let us go.” The room exploded with flashes. The comments on the livestream went berserk. 【Oh my God! I can’t believe this heiress was living in a gilded cage!】 【Emmet Reed is a monster! A controlling freak! A man like that deserves to rot in hell!】 【I support Sienna! True love will conquer all!】 Finally, Sienna announced that she would be starting a new company, completely separate from the Reed empire. “I will rebuild my company, my way.” “I know the road ahead will be difficult, but with Ryan, and… our child,” she said, her voice filled with resolve, “I know I can do it.” The press conference ended, and the internet boiled over. With the tide of public opinion turned against me, I became the villain of the story. The phones at Reed Tower rang off the hook with calls from the media. Several long-term clients tactfully terminated their contracts, afraid of being associated with the bad press. I stared at Sienna’s duplicitous face on the screen and felt a wave of nausea. A chilling, visceral hatred rose within me. I wiped a cold, damp tear from my own cheek and picked up the phone. “Get the legal team. Conference room in five minutes.” My assistant hesitated. “Sir… is there really no turning back from this?” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. My voice was terrifyingly calm. “The die is cast.” “I’m going to destroy them.”

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