1 The second month after our breakup, my father sold my ashes to a cult. When my mom, desperate, went to my ex-boyfriend Sean and begged him for the money to buy them back, he laughed it off as just another one of our scams and had her escorted from the police station where she’d been warned for harassment. Later, I watched as he recounted the story to his friends at the country club, a smirk on his face. “Can you believe Lynn would stoop this low just to get my attention?” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Making up some crazy story about a cult. Fine. I’m over being angry. I’ll give her one last chance.” A strange silence fell over the table until one of his friends leaned in and whispered, his voice hushed. “Sean… didn’t you hear? The Crestwood family, the tech billionaires? They bought a woman’s body from a corrupt mortuary last week for one of their… rituals. The coroner’s report was leaked. The name on it was Lynn Tao.” … While Sean was insisting the police charge my mother, I was busy pulling strings in the afterlife, trying to get a head start on my reincarnation. My gambling-addict father had sold my remains to some Romanian psychic who dealt in spiritual artifacts, and she’d brokered a deal to have me bound in a dark ceremony. If I didn’t get out of here fast, I was going to end up with a spirit-husband. That’s why Mom had gone to Sean. But he was unshakable in his belief that we were working together to scam him. “Officer, this is a clear case of premeditated fraud,” he’d said, his voice cold. “I want to press charges for harassment. Her daughter, Lynn Tao, is her accomplice.” My mother sat slumped in a chair, her shoulders stooped, her eyes vacant. She just kept muttering the same few phrases over and over. “I’m not lying. Lynn would never lie.” “Lynn is dead.” “She always said you were so good to her. Please, Sean. You have to save her.” I’d never seen my mother look so broken, so fixated. A sharp ache pierced my ghostly heart. But spirits can’t cry, and they can’t speak to the living. All I could do was kneel beside her, feeling her tears fall through my incorporeal form and splash silently on the linoleum floor. Sean’s voice, tight with frustration, cut through the air. “She’s insane.” He shot to his feet, kicking a chair with such force it skittered across the room. “They’re both fucking insane!” “What is all this crap about being dead?!” He turned back to the officer, his tone clipped with irritation. “Officer, just call Lynn Tao’s number. My time is valuable. I don’t have time for these games.” My name seemed to jolt my mother. She scrambled toward Sean, pulling a small, metal object from her coat pocket with a wild look in her eyes. “I’m not lying! Look! Lynn was clutching this when she died. It still has her blood on it.” It was his old dog tag. “Her own father sold her ashes for a ritual, and I can’t find where they took her! I can’t let my daughter have no peace, not even in death! Lynn said you were a good person. I’m begging you, please, help me…” The dog tag fell from her trembling hand, clattering on the floor and rolling to a stop right by my spectral feet. I instinctively reached down to pick it up. Sean, the rich boy, had worked five grueling months as a delivery driver to buy the motorcycle he’d sold to afford the custom engraving on it. It was his proof that he could make something of his own. I had promised him I would cherish it forever. But my transparent fingers passed right through the cool metal. And I remembered. I was dead. And Sean hated me now. I crouched there, frozen, staring at the small piece of metal that tied us together. Sean’s voice, thick with suppressed rage, echoed in the room. “Sold her ashes for a ritual? Do you really take me for that much of a fool? Let me tell you something, ma’am. Forget Lynn not being dead—if she really died, I’d pop a bottle of champagne and celebrate for three days straight!” My mother’s eyes, already red-rimmed, filled with a fresh wave of tears. Her voice was a choked whisper. “How could you say that… Her diary was filled with your name.” I knelt beside her, resting my ethereal head on her shoulder. I wanted to tell her to stop, to stop crying, to stop begging him. He hated me. And so, he hated everything connected to me. Sean’s face was a dark storm cloud. After a long moment, he let out a heavy breath. “Forget it.” He turned and strode out of the station. Behind him, my mother began to sob, telling the officer she wanted to file a report. That her daughter’s remains had been stolen for a dark ritual. Sean must have heard her. His steps faltered for a fraction of a second. Then he walked away even faster. 2 I was trapped, bound to Sean. At first, I kept trying to float back to the police station, worried sick about my mother. But every time, an invisible force would yank me back to him. It wasn’t until I saw the dog tag clutched in his palm that I understood. The tag, stained with my blood, had become my anchor. But when had he picked it up? I sighed, reaching out and poking at the metal tag. At that exact moment, Sean’s thumb brushed over it. For a fleeting instant, our fingers—one real, one spectral—touched. My heart seized, and I snatched my hand back as if burned. A sneer crossed Sean’s lips. “Lynn really knows how to commit to a role.” He snapped a few pictures of the tag and sent them to a group chat. I brazenly floated over his shoulder to read. Sean: Lynn’s regretting it. A reply came almost instantly. Friend 1: Damn, took her two months to come crawling back? Friend 2: Tsk, watch Sean fold in a week. Guy’s a total simp for her. Friend 3: No way. After she took all that money from your mom, she still has the nerve to show her face? I froze. I’d forgotten about the check in my drawer. The “breakup fee” Sean’s mother had given me two months ago. Sean seemed to remember it too. The arrogant tilt of his leg straightened, and he sat up. I watched as he typed out a few cold lines, then tossed the dog tag into the storage compartment in the back seat. Sean: She can dream on. I’ll never forgive her. I lowered my head, a silent, bitter laugh escaping me. It’s okay. I don’t need his forgiveness anyway. Sean stormed into his house with me trailing helplessly behind him, so close that I was practically face-to-face with his mother. “I told you to go to dinner. Why didn’t you?” she demanded. Sean ignored her, changing his shoes and starting up the stairs. “Sean Davenport!” she snapped. “Do you have any idea who the girl I set you up with tonight was? Her family is worth more than your little charity case girlfriend could make in a hundred lifetimes!” Sean stopped, his voice dangerously low. “She has a name.” “It’s Lynn Tao.” “And she’s not half as bad as you think she is!” I floated beside him, staring at his profile, a bittersweet pang in my chest. He had never, not once, defended me like that to my face. I remembered a time he took me to his childhood friend’s birthday party. A guest with a cruel streak had asked me, as a joke, what “tricks” I’d used to land a guy like Sean. I had looked to him for help, humiliated. He’d just paused for a few seconds before smoothly changing the subject. We fought about it later. He just looked at me with that half-smile of his and said, “There’s a huge gap between us, Lynn. What’s the big deal?” From that day on, I started to see our relationship differently. And I realized, with a sense of despair, that his love was always a contradiction. He would work for months to buy me a meaningful gift, something earned with his own two hands. He would appear like a superhero every time my father showed up in a drunken rage to harass my mom and me. But he would also stay silent whenever his friends belittled me with their backhanded compliments and casual insults. Loving him had started to hurt. So, I took the check from his mother. The breakup I couldn’t bring myself to initiate—I would let him do it for me. His mother stormed off in a huff. Sean let out an irritated scoff, shrugging off his jacket and slumping onto the end of his bed. He sat there, motionless, head bowed. I watched him from the window. He pulled out his phone and started dialing. The line was busy. He tried again. And again. His speed increased with each attempt, his expression growing darker. Finally, with a curse, he hurled the phone against the floor. It landed right at my feet. I glanced down instinctively. The cracked screen displayed a familiar number. Mine. He had called me twenty-eight times. 3 After Sean fell asleep, I found I could finally leave the villa. I rushed out, frantically searching for my mom. Just as I left, I bumped into another spirit. “Hey, girl!” she said, grabbing my arm. “Don’t you know your time is almost up?” It was Bao. My intended spirit-husband. I pulled away. “I still have things I need to take care of.” He stared at me, aghast. “Are you crazy? If you miss this window, you’re really going to be bound to me in that ritual!” He muttered to himself, “Then again, my family is pretty well-off, even in the afterlife. The procession they have planned is massive…” I didn’t have time for his chatter. I floated away, searching for my mom. I found her in my old room. She hadn’t even turned on the lights. She was just sitting on my bed in the dark, clutching a photo of me. I stayed with her all night. As dawn approached, she stood and carefully smoothed the wrinkles on my bedspread, then fluffed my pillow. Suddenly, she saw something and bent down, plucking an object from the crack between the nightstand and the bed. I floated closer to look and froze. It was the check from Sean’s mother. When I’d taken it, Sean had been watching from the adjacent private room at the restaurant. He had burst in, his eyes red, and said nothing as he slowly took the check from my hand and threw it in my face. He left so quickly he never saw me collapse into sobs behind him. I had childishly stuck a sticky note on it. To be returned when I stop loving Sean. My mother’s hand trembled as she traced the words, her voice raspy and raw. “Lynn, Mom will return it for him.” I shook my head, trying to block her path. I wanted to tell her not to, that whatever money was in there could give her a comfortable life. But I could only follow her as she went to Sean’s company and, with the help of gawking employees, found him. Sean was on a date. His expression flickered when he saw my mom, his eyes darting around the room. He let out a cold laugh and was about to speak when the check was pushed in front of him. My mother’s voice was hoarse. “This is yours.” Sean’s lip twitched. He stared at the check, a distant look in his eyes. “What, was the amount too small for you?” My mother looked at him, her face devoid of emotion. “Lynn is dead.” I saw his fingers, resting on his knee, give a sudden, violent twitch. The color drained from his face. But in the next second, he exploded as if a fuse had been lit. “Are you people ever going to give it a rest?!” he roared. “Dead, dead, dead! Don’t you get tired of saying such cursed things?!” He took a deep breath and pointed a trembling finger at the door. “Get out! If Lynn wants more money, tell her to come and ask for it herself!” My mother gave him one last look, a sad, hollow smile touching her lips, before she turned and drifted out of the restaurant like a ghost herself. Sean sped to a bar. After downing several drinks, he just sat there, motionless. The owner came over to serve him. “Sean, what brings you in tonight?” Sean’s eyes looked red. He laughed, a self-deprecating sound. “Lynn took money from my mom to break up with me.” “She was only with me for the money.” “And now, for more money, she’s having her mom lie and tell me she’s dead.” He took a swig of his drink, scoffing. “Tell me, what part of any of that is real?” The owner’s expression was strange. “You think Lynn was with you for money?” Sean gave a defeated grunt. “But… that girl worshipped you like a hero.” Sean’s hand froze halfway to his lips. 4 The owner continued, “She was barely eighteen when she started working here part-time. Sweet kid, pretty face. Everyone liked her. The number of rich kids who tried to ask her out could’ve lined the street for three blocks.” “One time, a guy wouldn’t take no for an answer, got aggressive. You were the one who saved her.” Sean looked even more confused. “I saved her?” The owner chuckled, polishing a glass. “Yeah. I guess every girl dreams of a knight in shining armor. She started paying attention to you after that. You probably never noticed, but nine times out of ten, she was the one who served your drinks.” “Then one day, she told me she was quitting. She said she wanted to meet you properly, for you to see her as an equal.” Listening to him, I felt a wave of nostalgia. Just working up the courage to appear in front of Sean had taken all the strength I had. I used my part-time earnings to retake my exams, got into his university, and then carefully, slowly, got closer to him. The day he confessed his feelings, I felt like I had been given the most beautiful gift in the world. “Impossible!” Sean’s voice, trembling with shock, pulled me back to the present. He forced a laugh, trying to convince himself as much as the owner. “I saw her take the check with my own eyes.” But the glass slipped from his grasp, spilling liquor all over his pants. He shot up, fumbling to wipe it off, but froze when his hand brushed against his pocket. I sat beside him and watched as he pulled out the check, his hands shaking like he had Parkinson’s. Maybe it was my imagination, but his eyes seemed to glint with fear. I heard him whisper, “No way. Absolutely no way.” Sean took the check to the bank. He slumped onto a sofa in the private client lounge, his face pale, his eyes staring blankly at nothing. After what felt like an eternity, the bank manager returned with the check. Sean stumbled to his feet, swaying so badly he almost fell. The manager spoke hesitantly. “Mr. Davenport… there are no funds in this account. In fact, this is a voided check.” Sean and I both froze. I almost laughed out of sheer frustration. Sean, on the other hand, went berserk. He grabbed his hair, kicked the coffee table, then threw the check on the floor and stomped on it repeatedly. “Fuck!” he roared. “Lynn Tao, you’re ruthless! You played me for a total fool!” I silently cursed his mother. She was the one who played me for a fool, giving me a worthless piece of paper. Later that night, Sean was still fuming as he drank with his friends. He was sprawled on a sofa, letting out bitter, cold laughs. The friend next to him finally got creeped out. “Dude, what’s wrong with you?” Sean tossed the check onto the table. “This is the check my mom gave Lynn.” His friend was shocked. “Seriously? How’d you get it back?” Sean sneered. “The money was all used up.” “So now Lynn and her mom have cooked up this insane story. They’re saying Lynn died, and her ashes were sold for some kind of ghost marriage.” “Hah!” “She’s really terrified of me breaking up with her, isn’t she? To make up something so sick!” Someone else chimed in. “A person like that is capable of anything.” I emotionlessly started to float away. The coffee table was kicked again. Sean’s warning voice cut through the air. “Can’t you keep your mouth shut? You want another beating?” I stared at Sean in surprise. That guy had insulted me to my face plenty of times before, and Sean had never reacted. The guy surrendered, chugging his drink. “I don’t know what kind of spell Lynn put on you. Every time I say one bad thing about her, you punch me.” He paused. “So, are you gonna get back together with her?” Sean grunted. “We’ll see.” Then he muttered under his breath, “Idiot. She could’ve had all my money if she just married me.” “Whatever. I’m not angry anymore. I’ll give her one more chance.” I stared at the faint smile on his lips, a lump forming in my throat. He still didn’t know I was dead. We didn’t have any more chances. Just then, a hesitant voice came from a corner of the room. “Did you guys just say… a girl named Lynn Tao was sold into a ghost marriage?” Sean’s brow twitched. He turned to his friend. “Who’s that?” “Some guy from Aethelburg. Not important.” Sean shrugged and started to get up to leave. The man raised his voice. “A few days ago, the Crestwood family arranged a spirit marriage for their eldest son. They said the bride was a perfect match.” “The bride’s name… I think it was Lynn Tao.”

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The day I married Isabella, the boy who stole my life killed himself. Two years later, that death shattered us. She blamed me—the true heir—for Lucas Blackwood’s demise. I despised her for mourning the impostor who’d lived my life. For a decade, we were each other’s torment. Curses, hatred, a home choked with venom. It ended in an earthquake. As the world collapsed, she shielded me, her spine snapping under the wreckage. Dying, she whispered, “If I’d known he’d die, I’d never have brought you home. “Then, softer: “If we get another life… let me be your only family.” I died in the aftershocks anyway. But when I woke, I was back—on the day she first took me to the Blackwoods. This time, she stopped me, trembling. “Aaron… the son they lost twenty years ago… it isn’t you.” … Isabella blocked my path before the grand iron gates of the Blackwood estate, her face a mask of conflict and grim determination. I said nothing, my mind flashing with the phantom memory of steel and concrete crashing down, of her blood-soaked back, of the words she’d whispered against my ear. “If I had known he would die, I never would have brought you home.” So, this was her choice. Given a second chance, she chose to abandon me from the very beginning. Fine. The last life was a ten-year sentence in a marriage built on torment. She despised me, I resented her, and we tortured each other day and night until death was our only release. The thought of severing it all at the root… it was a relief, a weight lifting from my soul. I met her gaze and gave a calm, simple nod. “Okay.” A flicker of shock crossed Isabella’s face. The entire speech she’d clearly prepared died on her lips. “What did you say?” she asked, the question a knee-jerk reaction. “I said, I understand,” I repeated, my voice even. “If it was a mistake, then it’s over. Thanks for the ride, but I should head back to campus.” I turned to leave. Her hand shot out, grabbing my arm. “Aaron!” She cried out my name, a note of panic creeping into her voice. “What is this attitude? You’ve always wanted to find your family! Now I tell you it’s not them, and you just give up? Just like that?!” I looked back at her, a bitter laugh threatening to escape. She’d concocted this whole lie precisely so I would give up. Now that I was doing exactly what she wanted, she was unsatisfied. “What else did you expect?” I countered. “Unless you’re lying to me right now. Unless I am the real Blackwood heir.” The panic in her eyes flared, her grip on my arm tightening unconsciously. She looked away, hiding her expression. “This ends here. You are not to mention this again, and you are not to go anywhere near the Blackwood family.” “I get it.” I pulled my arm free, rubbing the red marks her fingers had left on my wrist. “I won’t bring it up. I won’t go near them. Are you satisfied now, Isabella?” She stared at my empty hand, a flicker of loss in her eyes, as if something precious had just slipped through her grasp. She had no idea. I was reborn, too. This time, I would not walk through those gates. I would not become the Blackwood heir. And I would never, ever be her husband. She wanted to protect her childhood friend, to keep his perfect world intact. And I was going to hand it to her on a silver platter. “I’m leaving.” Without another glance, I turned and walked toward the bus stop. Her voice, laced with frustration, chased after me. “Stop! I’ll drive you back.” Isabella didn’t take me back to my dorm. Instead, she drove straight to a luxury high-rise in the heart of the city. I watched the streetlights blur past the window, a cold sense of recognition washing over me. In our previous life, this was our home after we married. It held our tenderest moments and bore witness to our slow, agonizing descent into a couple consumed by hatred. The car glided to a stop. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to me. In the dim light of the parking garage, her expression was unreadable, but her tone was softer now, no longer as sharp as it had been at the estate gates. “Get out. We need to talk.” I followed her into the apartment. The decor was just as I remembered—a sleek, minimalist design in cool tones, much like her: elegant and distant. Only this time, I felt none of the heart-fluttering affection I once had. She tossed me a bottle of water from the fridge, then walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and lit a slender cigarette. The pale smoke swirled around her, a misty veil separating us. “Aaron, I know you’re upset.” Her voice, muffled by the smoke, was heavy. “I didn’t handle the situation with your family well. But Lucas… his mental state is fragile. He can’t handle any more shocks.” Always Lucas. I looked down, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a long swallow. The cold water slid down my throat but did nothing to quell the bitter tide rising in my chest. She’d said the same thing in our last life. She’d told me Lucas had a self-destructive streak, that his mind was a fragile thing, and that I needed to be gentle with him after I was welcomed into the family. And I’d listened. I’d let him have her undivided attention. I’d met his childish provocations with retreat and silence. And in return, he’d used his own suicide to sentence our marriage to a decade of hard time. Seeing my silence, Isabella must have assumed I was still sulking over my lost family. She sighed and stubbed out her cigarette. She walked over to me, tilting her head up slightly to look at me on the sofa, her eyes soft with a placating light. “Don’t be angry with me, okay?” Her voice was a velvet murmur as she reached out, her hand covering mine where it rested on the water bottle. “I admit, I messed up today. I got your hopes up for nothing.” “Whatever you want as compensation, just name it. If it’s in my power to give, it’s yours.” She paused, her tone growing earnest. “But the Blackwoods… let’s just forget about them for now, alright?” She was humbling herself, her love for me practically spilling from her eyes. I could see it clearly—she was terrified I would be angry, terrified I would leave her. But that love was conditional. It required the sacrifice of who I was. I met her gaze and felt a sudden, weary urge to laugh. “There’s nothing I want.” I calmly pulled my hand from under hers. The light in her eyes dimmed for a second. “Don’t worry. Even if the Blackwoods begged me to come back, rolling out a red carpet paved with their fortune, I wouldn’t give them a second look.” I added, “And you don’t need to apologize. You don’t owe me anything. In fact, let’s just end this between us.” Isabella’s brow furrowed, and she straightened up abruptly, her expression icing over. “End it? Aaron, are you trying to punish me? Because I wouldn’t let you join the Blackwoods, you’re trying to blackmail me?” She leaned over me, planting her hands on the sofa on either side of my body, trapping me in the scent of her perfume and lingering smoke. “I only told you not to go back to them! I never said I wanted to break up! We can be just like we were before. No—I’ll be even better to you than before!” I looked at her, overcome with a profound exhaustion. She thought that by stripping away my identity as the “true Blackwood heir,” we could go back to the beginning, that our love could continue unscathed. She didn’t understand. The root of our tragedy was never about whether I returned to the Blackwoods or not. “Isabella,” I said, gently pushing her away as I stood, creating a much-needed space between us. “I’m tired. I want to go back.” Without looking at her again, I walked to the door. This time, she didn’t try to stop me. … In the days that followed, I threw myself into preparing my applications to study abroad. Soon enough, an offer letter arrived from a university overseas. My departure was set for next month. The day before I was due to leave, two men in black suits intercepted me as I was leaving the library. “Mr. Sterling, Ms. Vance would like to see you.” I was forced into a car that sped through the city, finally stopping at a skyscraper that overlooked the entire riverfront. “Ms. Vance is busy. Please wait here.” A bodyguard escorted me into a glass-walled room before turning, leaving, and locking the door behind him. The room offered a stunning panoramic view, its main wall a single, massive pane of glass. Directly across from me, in the sky garden restaurant on the adjacent rooftop, a lavish birthday party was in full swing. The guest of honor was Lucas Blackwood. Dressed in an expensive suit, he was the center of attention, surrounded by a crowd of admirers. And standing right beside him, adjusting his bow tie and gazing at him with undisguised tenderness, was Isabella. I watched as she took Lucas’s hand for the first dance. They spun, drew close, and whispered to each other, looking for all the world like a perfectly matched couple. The guests applauded, their faces beaming with approval. A laugh, sharp and humorless, escaped me. What a fool I’d been in my past life. To throw away my entire existence for a woman who never truly loved me—was it worth it? I closed my eyes, trying to block out the searing image. But another memory forced its way in: Isabella’s mangled face during the earthquake, the trembling of her spine as she shielded me. She hated me, but she had also saved me. That debt was a giant, invisible net, trapping me, leaving me unable to move. I don’t know how long I sat there, but eventually, the party began to wind down. The door behind me creaked open. I turned. Lucas stood in the doorway. A triumphant smirk played on his lips as he sauntered toward me. “Aaron,” he began, standing over me, looking down his nose. “How does it feel? Watching the woman you love throw a party like this for me.” It clicked. The bodyguards weren’t sent by Isabella. They were his. He wanted to crush any hope I had left. He didn’t need to bother. This time around, I felt nothing for her. I remained silent, my gaze cold and steady. My lack of reaction seemed to infuriate him, his smile twisting into a grotesque sneer. “You think staying silent makes you noble? Let me tell you something. What isn’t yours, you will never have!” He leaned in close, his voice a venomous hiss. “Do you know? If you hadn’t shown up, Isabella and I would have been engaged by now! You ruined everything!” “Are you done?” I asked coolly. “If you are, please let me leave.” My detached attitude made him tremble with rage. Suddenly, he pulled a dagger from his jacket pocket, its blade glinting menacingly in the light. My heart seized. “What are you doing?” “Doing?” Lucas sneered, a crazed look in his eyes. “I’m going to show Isabella what you’ve driven me to! I’m going to make her see that as long as you exist, I’ll never know a moment of peace!” Before I could react, he raised the dagger and dragged it across his own wrist. He looked at me, a twisted smile on his face, and then screamed at the top of his lungs. “Please, just leave me alone! I’ll give you anything, why are you trying to kill me?!” The sound of frantic footsteps echoed from outside. Isabella burst in first, pulling a whimpering Lucas into her arms, her face a storm of fury. Lucas sagged against her, his face pale, and pointed a trembling finger at me. “Isabella… he told me he was the real Blackwood son… that I don’t deserve any of this… He told me I should just die…” Isabella’s head snapped up. Her eyes, when they met mine, were blazing with a terrifying fury. “Aaron,” she bit out, her voice dangerously low. “Did I not warn you to behave yourself?” “Today is Lucas’s birthday. It was supposed to be his happiest day of the year, and you’ve completely destroyed it!” I stared at her, my heart sinking inch by inch into an icy abyss. She had forgotten. Today was my birthday, too. Lucas and I were born on the same day, in the same month, of the same year. One of us was born to the heavens, the other, to the dirt. She immediately ordered her bodyguards to restrain me. Then, she threw a military-grade combat knife onto the floor in front of me. Her words were merciless. “For every drop of blood he’s lost, you’ll give back double.” I stared at her in disbelief. “Isabella, are you insane?!” I began to struggle violently, but she gave her men a curt nod. A searing pain shot up my arm as the blade bit into my flesh. Warm blood gushed out. I grunted, cold sweat beading on my forehead as I bit down hard on my lip, the coppery taste of blood flooding my mouth. A second cut, then a third… I lost count of the wounds, the pain dissolving into a dull, throbbing numbness. The world started to blur at the edges. I looked at Isabella’s cold, impassive face, at the faint, triumphant smirk on Lucas’s lips as he hid in her arms. My heart, what was left of it, died completely. “Enough.” Isabella finally spoke, stopping the bodyguard. “Take him to a hospital when you’re done.” With that, she swept Lucas into her arms and strode out of the room without a backward glance. I collapsed into a pool of my own blood, my consciousness fading. Just before I blacked out, I thought I saw the earthquake again. This time, Isabella wasn’t shielding me. She was just standing off to the side, watching coldly as the rubble swallowed me whole, her eyes devoid of any emotion. Isabella, I thought. The life I owed you… we’re even now. When I next opened my eyes, the sterile scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils. Isabella was sitting by my bed. Seeing me awake, her eyes lit up. “I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. I froze. “Last night… I was too harsh.” She looked down, her voice laced with regret. “I was so angry, I lost control. I…” “And?” I cut her off, my voice flat. “Are you saying you regret it?” Her head shot up, her lips parting as if to say something, but all that came out was a sigh. “Aaron, don’t talk to me like that.” Her voice softened. “I know you hate me, but Lucas… he almost died.” “You don’t have to apologize, Isabella,” I said, meeting her eyes. “Just consider us even now.” “Even?” She frowned, not understanding. “Yes.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “In our past life, you saved me in that earthquake. This time… I’ve paid you back with my own blood. We’re square.” The words hung in the sterile air. The sound of her chair clattering to the floor was deafening as she shot to her feet. Her lips trembled, her pupils constricting in utter shock.

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1 My friend and I were just about to leave dinner when a man blocked our path, insisting I pay the bill for another table. I refused, telling him I didn’t know them. The man exploded. “Don’t you get it? I’m doing you a favor letting you pay my bill! You got a death wish, disrespecting the Rhodes Corporation in this city?” Before I could say a word, his arrogance swelled. “You know who I am? I’m the husband of Lilah Rhodes, the CEO of Rhodes Corporation! Scared now, huh?” I paused for a second, then pulled out my phone and dialed Lilah. “So, I hear you have another husband at the office?” … The moment I hung up, the man, completely unhinged, snatched my phone and smashed it on the floor. “You think calling for backup will save you? I’ll make sure you never walk out of this restaurant.” “Hey, back off!” My best friend, Edward Convery, pulled me behind him. “Is this how Rhodes Corporation handles its business? Cornering strangers to pay your tab, then getting violent?” The man’s face flushed a deep red at Edward’s challenge. “Business? In New York City, the Rhodes name is business!” he sneered. “I tell you to pay, it’s a privilege, understand?” “You want to talk about rules? My word is the rule here!” I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as I looked up at him. “Let’s call you by your name. Dylan Shaw, right? Big as the Rhodes Corporation is, I doubt they taught you how to be a common mugger.” Dylan sneered, planting his foot on a nearby chair like a low-life thug. “I’m giving you a chance to climb the ladder, you idiot! People are lining up to buy me dinner, and I wouldn’t even give them the time of day!” A chance to climb the ladder. Since when did the Cole family need to climb anyone’s ladder in this city? I glanced at Edward, whose expression had turned grim. Even a scion of the DC elite like him couldn’t have imagined being bullied like this in New York by some suit from a second-rate corporation. Dylan let out a derisive snort and waved toward the entrance. “Listen up! In this city, I, Dylan Shaw, call the shots! Grab these two morons who don’t know their place!” As soon as the words left his mouth, seven or eight men in black suits swarmed in, instantly surrounding us. Edward instinctively tried to shield me, his fists already clenched. But he was outnumbered. Before he could even throw a punch, two of the guards had his arms pinned behind his back. “Edward!” I started to rush forward, but a sharp blow to the back of my neck sent my vision spiraling into darkness. Through the haze, I saw Edward struggling, spitting out a curse before a fist slammed into the side of his face. A trickle of blood immediately seeped from the corner of his mouth. I was shoved to the floor, forced to watch as Dylan kicked Edward square in the stomach, his voice a torrent of abuse. “You dare stick your nose in my business? Today, I’ll teach you both that the Rhodes name is not to be trifled with!” The bodyguards’ punches landed on me with dull, throbbing pain. Edward had just come to the city for a good time, and now he was caught in this senseless mess. My voice was hoarse as I yelled, “Dylan Shaw, I’m the one who’s legally married to Lilah Rhodes. My name is Ethan Cole.” I pointed a shaky finger at Edward, who was still pinned to the ground. “And he is Edward Convery, of the Convery family in D.C.! You let us go now, and we can still walk away from this!” At my words, Dylan’s foot froze mid-air. Then he burst into laughter. “Lilah’s husband? A Convery? Did you two get hit a little too hard in the head?” The people at his table erupted in laughter. “Everyone knows the VP, Mr. Shaw, is the boss’s man.” “This guy’s got some nerve, making up stories like that.” “The Convery family? From D.C.? Never heard of them. Probably just pulled the name out of thin air to scare us.” Dylan leaned down, his fingers digging into my chin, his eyes filled with menace. “Say you’re her husband one more time, and I’ll break your arm right now. I’m going to teach you what’s real and what’s fake. Only I get to say her name. And I’m the only man for her.” Edward, still pinned to the floor with blood trickling from his lip, managed a sarcastic smirk. “Well, Ethan, my friend, looks like this marriage of yours has been a complete waste. The other guy is claiming your wife right to your face, and you’re the one left looking like a fool.” His words startled a laugh out of me, but mine was laced with fury. While Dylan’s grip was still tight on my chin, I whipped my head to the side and sank my teeth into his wrist. He howled in pain, his hand flying open. I used the momentum to drive my knee hard into the groin of the guard behind me. As he doubled over in agony, I grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and smashed it over the head of the other guard holding me. By the time Dylan recovered, I was on him, my fist connecting squarely with his face. The sudden counter-attack stunned him. He staggered back, blood gushing from his nose. “You son of a bitch, you hit me?!” Dylan roared, a mix of shock and rage on his face. He lunged at me, but I caught his arm, twisted it, and threw him to the floor. I straddled him, raining punch after punch. The Rhodes Corporation employees at his table, reeking of alcohol, scrambled to pull me off. “You’re attacking VP Shaw? You want to die?” Somehow, Edward had broken free. He kicked away a man lunging at me and roared, “Give him hell, Ethan! I’ve never been so disrespected in my entire life!” In the chaos, someone smashed a chair across my back. I grunted in pain but didn’t stop. Dylan was screaming, clawing wildly at my hair. “Rhodes security! Take him down! I’ll take responsibility for whatever happens! Triple bonuses for everyone!” The employees surged forward like a crazed mob, grabbing my arms, wrapping their arms around my waist, one of them kicking at the back of my knees. As I was being pulled back, Dylan saw his chance and kicked me hard in the stomach. I stumbled back, and just as I was about to charge again, a sharp voice cut through the chaos from the restaurant entrance. “Everybody freeze!” Two uniformed police officers pushed their way in. They surveyed the wreckage, their brows furrowed. But when their eyes landed on the bruised and battered Dylan Shaw on the floor, their expressions changed instantly. “Mr. Shaw? What are you doing here? What’s going on?” one of the officers, a portly man, asked, his voice dripping with deference as he hurried to help Dylan up. Seeing the police, Dylan acted as if his saviors had arrived. He pointed a trembling finger at me and Edward. “Officer Wang! These two lunatics from out of town! They refused to pay, then they started a fight! Look what they did to me! And my employees! They’re all injured!” The portly cop glanced at our own cuts and bruises and dismissed them completely. He turned on us, his face a mask of authority. “What do you two think you’re doing? Brawling in broad daylight and assaulting employees of the Rhodes Corporation? You’ve got a lot of nerve!” “He was the one who started it,” Edward said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “He tried to force us to pay his bill and attacked us first.” “Nonsense!” Dylan shot back immediately. “I was just offering them a chance to get on the good side of the Rhodes name, and they threw it back in my face! They even had the audacity to impersonate my wife’s husband and someone from some big-shot D.C. family.” The portly cop clearly bought his story, gesturing at the shattered glass and overturned tables. “Regardless, you beat him up like this and trashed the place. You’re clearly in the wrong! Let me tell you something, in this city, everyone shows respect to the Rhodes Corporation! Mr. Shaw is Ms. Rhodes’ right-hand man. You mess with him, you’re disrespecting Rhodes, and you’re messing with the way things work in New York!” The other officer, a thin man, was already dangling a pair of handcuffs. “Enough talk. You’re coming with us. Oh, and you’ll be covering Mr. Shaw’s bill, the damages to the restaurant, his medical bills, and his emotional distress. Then, maybe if you get on your knees and apologize, Mr. Shaw might consider letting this go.” “On what grounds?” I laughed, the sound sharp with disbelief. “He started this, and you’re just going to convict us without even asking what happened?” “On the grounds that you’re from out of town!” the portly cop waved his hand dismissively. “You’re in our city, you play by our rules. Mr. Shaw letting you pay his bill was an honor. Don’t be an ungrateful punk!” Edward sneered. “I’d love to see if this city’s ‘rules’ are above the actual law.” “Oh, a tough guy, huh?” The thin officer stepped forward to cuff me. “Looks like you need to be taught a lesson!” I sidestepped him, which only enraged him further. He whipped out a taser, the crackle of electricity filling the air. “You want to do this the hard way?” he said, jabbing it toward me. “Fine by me. You’ll be begging for mercy by the time you see a jail cell.” A jolt of pure energy seared through my limbs. My whole body went numb, and I almost collapsed. Edward caught me, his eyes blazing. “Are you out of your mind? That’s abuse of power!” “Abuse of power? I’m just doing my job,” the portly cop shot back, pulling out his own taser and pointing it at Edward. “In this city, Rhodes business is everyone’s business. People like you who don’t know their place need to be taught a lesson in respect!” Edward let out a choked grunt as the electricity hit him, the acrid smell of ozone filling the air. “You power-tripping pieces of trash… you’ll regret this…” he gasped. “Regret it?” The cop’s grin widened. He used his baton to lift Edward’s chin. “You can regret it all you want while you’re getting your ass beat in a cell every day.” He turned to Dylan with a fawning smile. “Mr. Shaw, how’s that? Should we turn it up a notch for you?” Dylan watched, smug and satisfied. “Yeah, give them some more. They need to learn who’s in charge here.” The portly cop gave me a kick for good measure, then bowed to Dylan. “Mr. Shaw, if you don’t mind me asking, when is Ms. Rhodes due? My partner and I would love to send a proper gift to congratulate you both.” The thin cop nodded eagerly. “Absolutely! We’d be honored to share in your joy. Maybe Ms. Rhodes could even put in a good word for us, you know?” At the mention of this, Dylan’s chest puffed out. “About four or five months to go. We had it checked. It’s a boy.” Lilah… pregnant… The words hit me like a physical blow. I had been away on a business trip for six months, just recently returned to the city, and Lilah… she was already having a baby. Rage flooded my system. We had been married for two years, and every time I brought up having kids, she’d use her busy schedule at the company as an excuse to put it off. I struggled to my feet. Seeing me move, the thin cop prepared to tase me again, aiming the prongs right for the back of my neck. The electricity made my vision swim, and I nearly went down again. Seeing his chance, Dylan grabbed a nearby stool, ready to bring it down on my head. Just then, the sharp, hurried click of high heels echoed from the restaurant entrance. Lilah Rhodes swept in. Her gaze passed over the wreckage without a flicker of surprise, but when it landed on Dylan, her voice softened. “What happened? Who hurt you?” Dylan immediately put on a wounded expression. “Lilah, you’re here! These two went crazy. They impersonated your husband and then they attacked me! They even fought the police!” The portly cop scurried over. “Ms. Rhodes, you’re just in time! These two out-of-towners were causing trouble, insulting you and Mr. Shaw. We were just handling it according to the law!” Lilah’s gaze finally fell on me, cold and disgusted, as if she were looking at something foul. “Ethan Cole. I really underestimated you. You come back from a six-month trip just to start brawls like some common thug?” She glanced at Edward. “And the trash you associate with is an embarrassment. Coming to New York to run wild? Do you think my company is a joke?” I wiped a smear of blood from my lip. “Lilah, let me ask you something. Dylan Shaw is going around calling himself your husband, and he tried to force me to pay for his corporate dinner. What exactly is going on?”

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The day after my divorce settlement, I got into a car accident and lost my memory. Later, my ex-husband, Liam, found me. He said we could get back together, if I stopped having my… episodes. I froze, the ice cream spoon halfway to my mouth. After a long moment, I managed to stammer, “No, thank you! I… I think I’m good with just the money.” 1 I woke up to my best friend, Liane, staring at me with a worried frown. She told me not to be sad. She said my health was the most important thing, and that even though I was divorced, I had to live well. She said our children would be fine with Liam, that I didn’t need to fight for custody anymore, especially since I couldn’t win. I stared at her, completely lost. After a moment, I had to ask, “Who’s Liam?” Liane froze, her expression blank. It took her a second to process before she was shouting for a doctor. The doctor said I had amnesia from the car accident. Liane, her voice tight with anxiety, asked me how old I thought I was. I thought for a moment. “Eighteen? Didn’t I just finish my final exams yesterday?” Liane burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she had to squat down, clutching her stomach and pounding her fist on the bed. “Oh, Violet! This is perfect! The timing of this amnesia is just… perfect. Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is great! No Liam, no kids… just us.” I was more confused than ever. 2 Liane took me home. Once she was sure my memory wasn’t coming back anytime soon, she gave me the rundown. Me, Violet Lee. I’d fallen in love my freshman year of college with a poor kid named Liam Pierce. I was with him for ten years, from eighteen to twenty-eight. I helped him build his business from the ground up, lived on scraps with him, gave him children, and took care of his parents. And then, this year, he filed for divorce. “…What?!” I was horrified. It sounded like a tragic, melodramatic soap opera. My voice trembled. “So, you’re telling me I was basically a servant for ten years, and then at twenty-eight, I was thrown out on the street?” Liane nodded. “That’s about right. You also have two kids. A son, who’s six, and a daughter, who’s four. But because you were a stay-at-home mom with no income, and the kids both chose to stay with their dad, Liam got full custody.” “…What?! I lost the children I raised?!” Even though I had no memory of any of this, it sounded terrifying. I was on the verge of tears. Then Liane grinned and patted my shoulder. “Don’t be too sad. At least you have money.” Tears welled in my eyes. “How much?” I asked tentatively. Liane sat up straight. “Violet, listen carefully. You got 20% of Liam’s assets, 10% of the shares in three publicly traded companies, and two townhouses in the city. It’s worth about one hundred and ninety million dollars.” “…” Silence. Contemplation. Then, a hesitant question. “Liane, you’re not messing with me, are you?” “If I’m lying, I’m a dog.” That day, I stared out the window in a daze. I had lost ten years of my life. I had no idea how I had lived them. But Liane said I was rich, and when I was eighteen, the thing I loved most in the world was money. So, I figured, this wasn’t so bad. 3 Liane took some time off work to help me with all the paperwork. I never saw the “Liam” she had told me about; he had his lawyers handle the entire asset division. After about a month of running around, Liane helped me list all my properties for rent. She did the math; the monthly rental income would be around one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. That day, I stared at the endless string of zeros on my bank statement, then at my reflection in the mirror—a twenty-eight-year-old woman, immaculately dressed and styled. I scratched my head. Not bad at all. 4 I didn’t have much to do, but Liane had to work. So I spent my days at her place, playing video games. She’d order takeout for me when she ordered her own lunch. She always came home late, completely drained. She’d collapse onto the sofa, looking like she was at the end of her rope. I’d put down my game controller and give her a shoulder rub. It was like I had muscle memory for it; I was surprisingly good. Once she’d recovered a bit, she started ranting. “Liam is such a bastard. Right after you graduated, you were his free labor. His mom was sick, and you had to give her massages after work every day.” “…” “And you,” she said, turning to flick my forehead, “you’re just a pushover, Violet. When I’m not around, you just let them walk all over you. They took advantage of you because you were an orphan with no one to stand up for you.” I rubbed my head, feeling a little defensive. “I don’t remember any of that! I only remember you.” Liane stopped, then smiled. “That’s right. You don’t remember. It’s better that way. As long as you remember me, that’s enough. I won’t bully you.” I believed her. Liane and I had grown up together in an orphanage. When we were little, I was always trailing behind her. She’d fight for my snacks and help me with my laundry. When we got older, she’d tutor me. She was a year older than me, so when I was a senior in high school, she was a freshman in college. She called me every day, pushing me to study hard. She wanted me to go to the same college as her, but Liane was brilliant. She got into a top university. I studied until I thought my brain would explode, but I still couldn’t get in. The day my results came back, I cried in her arms. Liane flicked my forehead. “What are you crying for? You got a great score. There’s nothing to cry about.” She stroked my head. “You did amazing.” Later, I went to a different city for college, still in tears. 5 Liane always regretted it. “I never should have let you go there,” she’d say. “If you hadn’t gone to that city, you never would have met Liam. And if you hadn’t met Liam…” “I wouldn’t have one hundred and ninety million dollars,” I finished for her. Liane put her hands on her hips. “What’s more important, the money or those ten years of your life?” I tried to guess the right answer. “The money?” “You!” she said, exasperated. “You’re more important. If you’re not happy, all the money in the world doesn’t matter. It’s a good thing you lost your memory. What if you’d done something stupid? What good would the money have been then?” “Um… to buy a nice tombstone?” Liane laughed, exasperated. “Get out!” “…” Liane was always amazing. She was still amazing now, a general manager at a multinational corporation, earning around forty thousand a month. But she was busy, and she often had to travel for work. She was worried about leaving me alone, so she started taking me with her. Then she had a thought: since she was taking me everywhere anyway, why should she pay for it herself? So she hired me as her assistant. I knew this role! I’d spent the last few months binge-reading a dozen “billionaire CEO falls for his assistant” novels. On my first day, I showed up in a form-fitting pencil skirt, brimming with confidence. I made her coffee, organized her files, and ran around the office, looking incredibly busy. She watched me, amused, and finally told me to stop running around. She gave me a spreadsheet. “Let Amber show you the ropes. Work on this. Take your time, no rush.” “You got it!” And just like that, I officially started my new job. 6 I went to work with Liane every day. I didn’t have a lot to do, so I usually finished early. Liane, on the other hand, was swamped. I’d wait for her in the break room. One day, she saw me watching online courses on my phone and asked me seriously, “Violet, do you want to study?” “…I do.” With my amnesia, I was starting from scratch at work. I felt dejected every time I couldn’t do something right. Growing up, Liane had always been my role model, and she still was. I wanted to be like her, effortlessly competent and cool. So Liane signed me up for some classes. After work, I’d drive to my lessons. It was a comprehensive project management course, with a mix of different software applications. I filled two notebooks with notes before it finally started to click. After that course, Liane sent me to study accounting. I spent a year on it, and everything finally fell into place. I was getting the hang of my job. 7 After a year at the company, Liane started having me join Amber in client meetings. Amber was three years younger than me, a project manager with a wonderful personality. She was gentle and kind, and she always looked out for me. After one meeting, she bought herself a coffee and got me an ice cream. I was happily eating my ice cream when Amber laughed. “Liane said you’re 29, but I never believe her. Violet, you’re just a kid! A hardworking, obedient kid.” I thought for a moment and told her gravely, “Actually, I have two kids.” “Don’t lie to me. We’ve been working together for over a year, and I’ve never even seen your husband.” “We’re divorced.” “Violet, you look like a teenager.” “Well… technically, I’m a young divorcee.” Amber was stunned. She didn’t believe me. I laughed; honestly, I didn’t believe it either. I had just finished my final exams, how could I be twenty-nine? But I had been taking good care of myself for the past two years, so I did look young. Right after the divorce, I hadn’t been in a good state. I was a wreck. But maybe money really is the best medicine. After I got out of the hospital, Liane took me for all sorts of spa treatments. She said I was too weak and signed me up for a fighting class. The eighteen-year-old me always followed Liane’s lead. If she said east, I’d never go west. If she said fighting, I’d never sign up for taekwondo. We had a private chef at home, and with all the good food and care, I started to get better and better. With no memory of the past, no worries, plenty of money, and no job, I could eat and sleep as much as I wanted. In those few months, my hair even got thicker. The past year or so had been happy. I had forgotten the messy memories of the last decade. My eighteen-year-old mind was a clean slate, eagerly absorbing all sorts of new knowledge, with Liane always there to support and guide me. But maybe fate couldn’t stand to see me so comfortable. One day, at a client meeting with Amber, I ran into a man. 8 Amber’s meeting that day was confidential, so I couldn’t go. She left me at a coffee shop downstairs with a book and some ice cream. I was halfway through my book when I felt someone staring at me. I looked up. A man in a sharp suit was watching me, his brow furrowed. He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. When Amber finished her meeting, I grabbed the coffee I’d bought for her and went to find her. As I passed the man, I heard him say, “Pretending you don’t know me?” His comment was so out of the blue that I just glanced at him and kept walking. But he followed me out. “Violet Lee, not even a hello when you see me?” I turned around, and Amber turned with me. When Amber saw the man, she smiled. “Mr. Pierce! Long time no see.” Liam ignored her, his eyes fixed on me. I looked at the man. Mr. Pierce? Could it be… Liam Pierce? I whispered to Amber, “Is that Liam Pierce?” “Yeah! The CEO of Pierce Corporation. You know him?” “…Um, I think he’s my… ex-husband.” Amber’s jaw dropped. She looked at me, then at Liam, then back at me. Liam was still staring at me. I thought for a moment, then extended my hand. “Hello.” Liam didn’t take my hand. He looked at me with a condescending, mocking expression. “Violet Lee, I underestimated you. I actually thought you were a good mother. In court, you fought so hard for Leo and Maya, but as soon as you got the money, you didn’t even come to see them once… It’s a good thing I got custody. A person like you, you don’t deserve to be a mother.” A strange wave of sadness washed over me, but it faded as quickly as it came. I wracked my brain, but I couldn’t remember what “Leo” and “Maya” looked like. “Violet Lee, this weekend, you’d better come back. Otherwise, you’ll never see Leo and Maya again for the rest of your life.” Liam left, leaving me with a bewildered Amber and a pensive me. 9 That night, for the first time, I heard about my two children from Liane. “They’re both smart kids,” she said. “But when Liam was starting his business, you were busy too. You went back to work right after giving birth. Their grandparents raised them, so they were never very close to you.” “Violet, when you divorced, you could have gotten 50% of the marital assets. But you signed an agreement with Liam. You only took 20%, but he had to promise in writing not to remarry, and to leave all his assets to the children.” She paused, then continued, “You carried them for nine months. You loved them more than anything. But it didn’t matter. They didn’t like you. The day I came to pick you up, I saw them yelling at you, saying you did nothing and still took 20% of Liam’s money. They told you to give it back. You just stood there, silently. They got so angry they threw a glass at you…” Liane’s voice trailed off. She sighed and hugged me. “Violet, please don’t remember. Isn’t it nice for us to just be happy like this?” I nodded seriously. “Okay. I don’t want to remember either.” “But if you want to see them this weekend, you should go. You can’t avoid them forever. I’ll go with you. No one will bully you.” I looked up at Liane and nodded. It wouldn’t have mattered if I didn’t see them; I had truly forgotten. I only felt a pang of sadness when they were first mentioned, but now, I felt nothing. I was just a little curious. I wanted to see what they looked like. 10 Liane went with me. When Liam opened the door and saw her, he frowned. He clearly didn’t like Liane, and Liane definitely didn’t like him. Liam told me to come in, but tried to block Liane at the door. I panicked and ran back out to stand behind Liane. I was a little afraid of Liam. He was so tall, so imposing, and I didn’t remember him at all. I clung to Liane. If she wasn’t going in, neither was I. Liam’s face instantly darkened. “Violet Lee, if you want to see the children today, you have to come in alone.” “Then I won’t see them.” I shook my head like a rattle. I was terrified. What kind of person was this? I tried to pull Liane away, but Liam laughed, exasperated. “Violet Lee, what’s wrong with you? Am I that scary?” Of course he was scary. He was almost six-foot-three, built like a brick wall. He could probably pin me to the wall with one punch and I wouldn’t be able to get away. I was firm. “…I’m only going in with Liane.” Liam’s face was grim. Liane met his gaze with a blank expression. Finally, Liam stepped aside. “Come in!” The villa’s living room was huge. In the center sat a boy of about seven or eight. He looked just like his father, and his expression wasn’t friendly when he saw me. That must be Leo. Next to him was a little girl, who must be Maya. The little girl followed her brother’s lead, looking at me with a hint of curiosity. “Are you Mommy?” I nodded. Maya tugged on her brother’s sleeve. “Brother, Mommy is… so pretty now.” The boy suddenly yelled, “Shut up! Don’t call her Mommy! She’s not our mommy anymore! She doesn’t care about you or me! What kind of mommy is that?! And she won’t let Daddy get married, so we can’t have a new mommy! She’s a bad person! She’s crazy!” “…” Any anticipation I had felt vanished in an instant. I wasn’t as sad as I thought I’d be. I still couldn’t remember them. They looked familiar, but the memories were completely gone. It felt like two vaguely familiar children were yelling at me. I wasn’t angry, just bored.

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My best friend and I both married into the Thorne family, the undisputed rulers of our city. I married the family’s heir apparent, the formidable Joseph Thorne. She married the nation’s heartthrob, the award-winning actor, Parker Thorne. One afternoon, she stared at a paparazzi photo of Parker having dinner with his first love, a beautiful ingenue named Claire. With a pained expression, she turned to me. “Are you in? “Once we’re divorced, we can each get a couple of male models and travel the world.” I stared at the press release announcing Claire as the new face of Thorne Industries. I hardened my heart. “I’m in! “But the models have to be good… better than Joseph in bed!” As the words left my mouth, a shadow fell over me. Joseph’s voice was cool and dangerous. “Darling,” he murmured, “are you sure you can find anyone better?” 1 Merrin and I were sitting side-by-side on the sprawling sofa, scrolling through our phones. Suddenly, her finger froze on the screen. I leaned over to look. Oh, boy. A notorious gossip site had snapped a picture of her husband, Parker, having an intimate dinner with the recently returned starlet, Claire Vance. He had his arm around her; they looked cozy. Claire was the “one that got away” for both Thorne brothers. Their families were old friends, and since we’d married into the family, we’d only heard about her from our sweet, naive mother-in-law. “I do wish Claire would call, I miss her so.” “Would one of you dears ask Claire when she’s coming back?” Claire, Claire, Claire. The name had become a constant, low-grade source of anxiety for both of us. Merrin’s expression flickered with a brief, haunted look. But she quickly composed herself, her voice firm despite the pain. “I’m filing for divorce.” “Are you in?” My interest piqued to about a 10%. After all, I’d been Merrin’s shadow my whole life. She chose a science major, I chose a science major. She went to Stanford, I went to Stanford. She married a Thorne, and I happily followed suit. But my husband hadn’t been caught having dinner with his first love. Was divorce a bit extreme? Sensing my hesitation, she upped the ante. “Parker’s salary goes directly to my account. I can support you, babe. “Once we’re divorced, two male models each. We’ll travel the world.” My interest shot up to 40%. Male models sounded nice, but just two… probably not as good as Joseph. “Ten! Ten male models!” Interest level: 80%. My eyes widened, the word “yes” on the tip of my tongue. But a final shred of reason held me back. A notification pinged on my phone. A headline blared across the screen. ‘Ingenue Claire Vance Named Annual Spokesperson for Thorne Industries! Contract Rumored to be Worth $50 Million!’ The accompanying photo was of her and Joseph at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. She was radiant, smiling triumphantly. And behind her, my dear husband was gazing at her with a deep, intense look. He never looked at me like that. Whenever I tried to joke with him or do something silly, he’d just give me a look like I was an idiot and say: “Are you insane?” At that thought, I hardened my heart. “I’m in!” Merrin was ecstatic, immediately calling her lawyer. She rattled off her demands for the property division like a pro. My eyes went wide when I heard her say she wanted half of the Thorne family fortune. How much money was that? She even haggled with the lawyer, arguing for a discount since she was bringing him two cases. Now I remember why Merrin was the leader and I was the follower. She was just smarter. I stared at my phone’s wallpaper, a photo from our wedding. A pang of regret hit me. Joseph didn’t just give me money; he provided… other kinds of pleasure, and plenty of it. I spoke up hesitantly. “Um… the models have to be really good.” Merrin turned to me, her expression instantly freezing. Still lost in my fantasy, I continued, “They have to be better in bed than Joseph!” Merrin clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp, her other hand trembling as she pointed behind me. Before I could turn, a familiar hand reached out and grabbed the back of my neck, lifting me like a kitten and depositing me at his side. His voice was laced with ice. “If I’m so good in bed, why are you leaving me?” 2 I turned my head mechanically, my eyes meeting Joseph’s frosty gaze. He narrowed his eyes at Merrin, as if she were the one who had put the idea of divorce in my head. “Sister-in-law,” he said, his voice dripping with menace, “Parker is on his way. You should probably figure out how you’re going to explain this to him.” Merrin froze, then plopped onto the sofa, her mind clearly racing. She was too preoccupied to notice the desperate SOS signals I was sending her. So much for our best-friend telepathy. I could only stare meekly at Joseph’s chiseled profile. When he finally turned to look at me, his expression shifted. A faint smile played on his lips, but his voice was still cold. “One divorce in this family is enough. They can get divorced. We won’t.” Joseph’s voice had always been like a drug to me. It hypnotized me into nodding. I nodded obediently, all thoughts of divorce and male models vanishing into thin air. The roar of a sports car echoed from outside. That had to be Parker, the flashy car enthusiast, coming home. A screech of tires, and a minute later, he burst through the door. He was clearly coming straight from a film set, still in his historical costume, his face etched with fatigue. He glanced at us. “Joseph. Aubrey.” Joseph, his arm around my waist, gave a cool nod. “Your wife is trying to convince my wife to get a divorce. You handle it.” Parker strode over to Merrin. He rubbed his temples, his voice laced with impatience. “Merrin, what is it this time? “Last time you wanted a divorce because I had a kissing scene. I haven’t taken a role with a kissing scene since. “The time before that, an assistant gave me a homemade cake. I fired her immediately. “What are you unhappy about now?” Merrin laughed coldly and threw her phone at him. “See for yourself.” I was just getting into the drama when Joseph pulled me away. “Let’s not get involved in other people’s business.” So, we’re not part of the Thorne family now? I grumbled silently, but followed him obediently. In the passenger seat, I asked him quietly, “Why Claire as the spokesperson?” She had just returned to the country, hadn’t been in the business long, and had no major credits to her name. With an award-winning actor in the family, you’d think they’d avoid any appearance of nepotism. Besides, there were countless popular actresses to choose from. Logically, she shouldn’t have even been in the running. “Aubrey, don’t listen to Merrin’s nonsense. “Claire is just a family friend I grew up with. I have no other feelings for her.” No other feelings? Then what about the photo of the two of them I found in his drawer when we first got married? I had shown it to Merrin, my hands trembling. She didn’t say anything, just went to her room and came back with another photo. It turned out to be a picture of the three of them. Claire was in the middle, smiling sweetly. Joseph had cut his brother out of his copy. Parker had cut his brother out of his. Such perfect synergy. Truly brothers. I stopped talking, turned up the car stereo, and stared out the window. 3 Joseph seemed determined to keep me away from Merrin. He took me to his office and watched me like a hawk. During meetings, he’d even give me a pen and paper so I could sit behind him and doodle. I had to admit, he was incredibly handsome when he was working. The eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses were focused intently on the screen. He would interject at key moments, his comments sharp and insightful. He rarely showed any emotion, but occasionally he’d glance back at me, as if to say, Are you bored? It’s almost over. But the meeting dragged on forever, so long that I almost fell asleep. I was used to it. This was the man who would rush back to the office on our wedding anniversary because of a subordinate’s mistake, leaving me to stare at the flowers and cake on the top floor of a hotel. I’d had to call Merrin to come over so the king-sized bed wouldn’t go to waste. Finally, the secretary knocked. “Miss Vance is here.” “We’ll continue this tomorrow.” Only Claire could pull him out of work mode. I followed him out, seeing Claire for the first time. I’d looked her up online. 25 years old, a squeaky-clean resume, not a single negative story. Not even the media knew she was a Vance, a testament to how well her family had protected her. She was wearing a white dress, looking exactly like she had in that photo from when she was 18. I suddenly understood why both brothers were so hung up on her. That pure, innocent quality… no man could resist it. “Joseph,” she cooed sweetly. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” She completely ignored me, probably assuming I was just a secretary. “Not at all,” Joseph said. “You’re right on time.” He turned and instructed his secretary to take me to the lounge. He also told her to order some of my favorite desserts and fruit teas. The picture of a considerate man. But this considerate man hadn’t looked at me once since she’d arrived. The air conditioning in the lounge was on full blast, and a chill seeped into my heart. I saw a dozen missed calls from Merrin on my phone and called her back. This time, I was the one who asked first. “Merrin, are you still getting a divorce?” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a firm voice. “Yes.” 4 Merrin and I met at a bar and drank ourselves into oblivion. “Aubrey, do you know what that bastard Parker said to me?” “He said he only met with Claire because she just got back and asked him to introduce her to some industry contacts.” “What about me? I was a rising star once. I had just as much talent as she does.” “But what did I get for marrying him? A life where I can’t be in the spotlight, and a man whose heart isn’t with me.” “But you got money,” I whispered. Merrin’s spending habits were legendary. Marrying into the Thorne family, with their deep pockets, was the only reason she hadn’t gone bankrupt. At my words, her hazy eyes lit up. She grabbed my hand, her voice firm, as if she were taking an oath. “You’re right! I have money! The Thornes only have two sons. We’ll take half their fortune. What kind of man can’t we find then?” She paused, as if a thought had just struck her. “You and Joseph didn’t sign a prenup, did you?” Actually, we had. Before the wedding, in front of a lawyer, Joseph had presented me with an agreement. At the time, I was so captivated by his face and his body that I signed it without even looking. When Merrin heard this, she groaned. “Damn it. Then we can only take a quarter.” “How much is a quarter?” I asked. She counted on her fingers. “Enough for each of us to hire ten top-tier male models a day, a different set every day, until we die.” “Yay!” We happily decided that as soon as the lawyers drafted the divorce papers, we would officially split. While waiting for the papers, it was our mother-in-law’s birthday. We had to keep up appearances, so we attended the gala together, leaving the two brothers to stare at each other in confusion. Usually, we would be on their arms, helping them network. Today, they were on their own. At first, Merrin and I thought our mother-in-law was trying to put us, her two less-than-satisfactory daughters-in-law, in our place. But it turned out she genuinely adored Claire. We heard she had always wanted a daughter, but had two sons instead. With the Vances being busy, she had practically raised the princess-like Claire herself. Merrin couldn’t take it anymore and was about to drag me away. But Claire glanced over, her voice intentionally loud. “I don’t believe I’ve met my sisters-in-law. Aunt Linda, won’t you introduce us?” Great. Now we were stuck. She greeted us sweetly, complimenting Merrin on her beauty. No kidding. Merrin was breathtaking. If she were still in the entertainment industry, Claire wouldn’t stand a chance. When it was my turn, she looked me up and down and said I looked… “like I enjoy a good meal.” …So what if I’d gained a few pounds recently and looked a little chubby next to Merrin? Did she have to be so catty? I held my tongue, but Merrin wouldn’t let it slide. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sister. You have such an ethereal quality, like a pure lotus blossom, untouched by the mud.” “And that white dress… it really brings out your inner white lotus, doesn’t it?” Our mother-in-law didn’t get the dig and nodded approvingly. Claire’s face turned from red to green, like a traffic light. She didn’t retort, just scurried over to stand between the two brothers, a picture of perfect harmony. Merrin and I exchanged a look. Our resolve to divorce hardened. Many of Parker’s investors were at the party. Claire wasn’t about to miss this opportunity, coyly following him around and networking. Merrin’s eyes narrowed. “That director, Wu? He wanted me for his last film, but I was too love-struck to accept,” she whispered. “And that producer, Wang? He offered to start a production company for me. Even after I quit, he’d still email me every so often, asking me to come back.” “Damn it, she’s reaping all the benefits. If I’d known this would happen, I would have died trying to make it in the industry.” She was practically steaming. The final straw was when Claire, in front of everyone, casually brushed an eyelash from Parker’s face. The anger that had been simmering all night finally boiled over. Merrin found her moment and brought her stiletto heel down hard on Claire’s dress. Claire gasped. She looked down to see a large tear in her skirt. While it wasn’t revealing, a torn gown at an event like this was mortifying. Parker rushed over and grabbed Merrin. “Merrin! What are you doing? Why would you humiliate her like that?” Joseph came over to me. “Can you lend her a dress?” It was the first thing either of them had said to us all night. I smiled. “Of course. You bought them all, so you can decide.” He looked at me with an unreadable expression, then waved a hand, instructing a maid to take Claire upstairs to change. Merrin and I fled the Thorne mansion. We jumped into the red sports car Parker had bought her and sped off, hitting 120 mph on the highway. When we finally stopped, she said, “I’m not waiting for the papers. We’re leaving tomorrow.” 5 The next day, we were in the Maldives. This had been our dream honeymoon destination. But Joseph was too busy with work, and Parker had a packed filming schedule, so it never happened. We lounged on the beach, mojitos in hand, basking in the sun. It was pure bliss. But our phones wouldn’t stop ringing. Parker texted her: “Are you done with your tantrum? If so, come home.” “I already apologized to Claire on your behalf.” “I haven’t even gotten mad at you for wanting a divorce, and now you’re giving me the silent treatment?” Joseph was much calmer. “Stop messing around with Merrin and come home. I’ll take you shopping.” “Come back when you’re done playing. The dog is waiting for you to feed him.” One of them hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation, and the other thought his wife was just on vacation. A pair of idiots. My family must have been blind. But I did miss my dog. “Can we add a clause to the divorce agreement that I get custody of the dog?” I asked Merrin. Merrin nodded and called the lawyer. He said he could have the papers sent to the Thorne mansion the next day. We were both satisfied, turned off our phones, took off our sunglasses, and started scouting for handsome, pale-skinned, long-legged foreign men on the beach. 6 When we finally turned our phones back on, they exploded with notifications. The brothers hadn’t expected us to be serious. Now, they were truly panicking. Parker’s messages went from angry to pleading, finally ending with: “If you divorce me, you only get half my money. If you don’t, it’s all yours.” Merrin rolled her eyes. “You think I’m after your money? That’s hilarious.” She wasn’t. When she started dating Parker, she didn’t even know he was a Thorne. “What did your husband… I mean, Joseph, say?” I handed her my phone, my hand trembling. Joseph’s text read: ‘Didn’t you say I was good in bed? If I’m so good, can we not get a divorce?’ Merrin tapped out a reply on my phone. When she handed it back, I almost dropped it in the pool. ‘I was inexperienced then. Now that I’ve tried others, I realize you’re not that great.’ Talk about a low blow. But I hadn’t actually tried anyone else. We were all talk and no action. We were used to fine dining; it was hard to work up an appetite for fast food. The male model I’d ordered yesterday… I’d only managed to touch his hand. Merrin was braver; she’d felt his abs. Then she’d pursed her lips and said, “Too scrawny. Not as good as Parker’s.” We were tired of playing, and there was no news on the divorce papers, so we decided to head home. I don’t know how Joseph found out our flight details, but he was waiting for us at the arrival gate. It was a weekday; he should have been at the office. I was about to pull on a hat and sunglasses and pretend I didn’t know him, but Merrin poked me. “Don’t bother. His eyes haven’t left you since we came out.” “We have to go back and force them to sign anyway. Might as well hitch a ride.” We didn’t say a word and got into Joseph’s car. The moment I walked in the door, my beloved dog rushed over, his tail wagging furiously, his whole body radiating love. They say men are like dogs, but I think dogs are better. Parker was also home, sitting silently on the sofa. We each followed our future ex-husbands to our respective suites. I looked around the bedroom we had shared for three years. The “double happiness” character on the wall had faded. Joseph had torn it down the day after our wedding; he preferred a minimalist aesthetic and couldn’t stand all the frills. I had made him put it back up later, and it was still there. Joseph was genuinely angry. He threw the divorce papers in front of me. “So,” he said, “you’ve tried others and decided I’m not good enough? That’s why you want a divorce?” I stiffened my neck. “Yes! Others are better than you!” He suddenly pushed me down onto the sofa, his kiss so forceful I couldn’t push him away. We hadn’t been this intimate in months. He was always too busy, often coming home late and collapsing into bed. After a long time, he released me. Tears welled in my eyes. “Not only are you not that great in bed, your kissing sucks too!” That really set him off. The veins in his neck bulged, his voice as cold as ice. “You’d better tell me that’s not true. Otherwise, I will find that man and I will kill him.” He was a psychopath. I’d always known that. When we first got married, I was working at a small company and was sexually harassed by my boss. I told Joseph, crying. The next day, the company went bankrupt. The boss was ambushed on his way home and beaten so badly he was permanently disabled. He was also sent to prison for embezzlement. Joseph hadn’t let me work since. My tears finally started to fall. “Joseph, I really do want a divorce. “I’ve been married to you for three years, and in your heart, work will always be more important than me. “You missed my birthday, you left me on our wedding anniversary, and all you ever do is try to make up for it with jewelry and handbags. You can’t even say you’re sorry. “And now Claire is back, and she’s more important than me too. Why should this marriage continue?” He looked stunned. “What does Claire have to do with this?” I pointed to his drawer. “There used to be a treasured photo of the two of you in there. You think I didn’t know? How do you think the photo disappeared? I tore it up with my own hands.” He put a hand to his forehead. “I honestly don’t remember that photo, and I have no idea when you tore it up, because I never even looked at it.” I closed my eyes, feeling tired. “It doesn’t matter. Arguing about this is pointless. “Since we got married, I’ve been begging you to take me on a honeymoon. You always said you were too busy, that we should wait. And we’ve waited for three years. “Now I’ve been, and I suddenly realize that I can go out and see the world without you. “The world outside is so exciting and beautiful, so much better than sitting at home, foolishly waiting for you to come back. “Just let me go. We signed a prenup. I won’t take a single penny from you. Just let me leave, please?” I had never seen Joseph bow his head, except in the heat of passion. But now, his head was bowed, his face hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable. After a long time, he looked up, the corners of his eyes red. “Fine,” he said. “I agree.” The tension that had been holding me together finally snapped. I had gotten what I wanted, but I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “But the dog stays with me. You can come and see him whenever you want.” I forced a smile. “Okay.” He silently picked up the papers, his hand trembling as he signed. It made my own heart tremble. As I walked out of the Thorne mansion, I couldn’t help but look back one last time. Joseph stood at the door, unmoving, holding our dog, who was struggling to run to me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393964”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day a billionaire walked into the orphanage and told me I was his long-lost daughter, a stream of text flickered into existence in the air before my eyes. [So naive! The richest man in the city says you’re his daughter, and you just believe him? If it weren’t for your good luck charm vibes, who’d even want you?] [But you have to admit, the side character’s luck is potent. The moment she settles into her new life, not only does the real heiress get found, but the billionaire’s bankruptcy crisis is magically solved.] [Just wait. As soon as the real heiress figures out how to steal that good luck for herself, this useless side character will be thrown out on the street to freeze to death.] [The real heiress is the star of the show for a reason. I’m totally hooked on this story!] A violent shiver racked my body. On pure instinct, I scrambled away from the billionaire and launched myself toward a different couple, a man and woman whose eyes were red-rimmed with a soul-crushing despair. The live-stream commentators were stunned. [Wait, isn’t she supposed to be a human lucky charm? Why did she pick the real heiress’s adoptive parents? That family is drowning in debt! The loan sharks are literally going to kill them!] 1 Staring at the translucent words floating in my vision, I felt a dizzying wave of disbelief. Me? A lucky charm? If I was so lucky, why had I spent my entire life in an orphanage? Mrs. Gable, the director, was nudging me toward the billionaire and his wife, her voice a low, persuasive hum. “Luna, this kind man and woman have come specifically to adopt you. Would you like to go home with them?” she said, her smile warm. “You’d have a beautiful room of your own, all the books and gadgets you could ever want. You’d never have to walk to school again.” [The director isn’t wrong, technically. But that’s only for the first two months.] [Once the real heiress is found and figures out how to steal the luck, Luna’s out on her ear.] [It’s actually kind of tragic. On a snowy night, she tries to walk back to the orphanage in just a thin dress. The mansion’s estate is so huge, she never even makes it out of the gated community before she freezes to death.] [Well, what can you do? She’s a side character. All side characters exist to serve the protagonist! And our protagonist is the one and only Princess Sera! Hey, wait a second… are those people behind her? Aren’t they Sera’s adoptive parents? What are they doing at the orphanage?] The real heiress’s adoptive parents were here? Mrs. Gable wanted the best for all of us, but the billionaire couple’s interest felt unnervingly predatory. Their eyes gleamed with a strange light, and I felt like a lamb being sized up for slaughter. I shrank back, silent, my gaze shifting to the other couple. Their shoulders were slumped, their faces etched with hopelessness. The woman was gripping Mrs. Gable’s hand, her voice trembling. “Mrs. Gable, do you have any leads on our Sera’s birth parents? We… we’re about to lose everything. She’ll only suffer if she stays with us.” “We just can’t bear to see her dragged down with us,” the man added, his voice thick with pain. [The side character’s luck is no joke. That’s the main character they’re talking about! Seraphina is the billionaire’s daughter!] [The adoptive parents are genuinely good people. It’s a shame they’re about to be killed off by debt collectors.] [It’s all part of the plot, to push the heroine back to her birth parents.] A jolt, sharp as electricity, shot through me. I finally understood. We were all just characters living inside a book. But why did we have to die just for the sake of some so-called heroine? The billionaire’s wife, Mrs. Harrison, placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Luna, honey. Won’t you come home with us?” Without a second thought, I dodged her touch and threw myself into the arms of the other, heartbroken couple. “Please,” I begged, looking up at them. “I’m not afraid of hard times. I can help with chores. Please, can you adopt me?” The moment the words left my mouth, the comment stream exploded. [What is she doing?! She’s a lucky charm! Why would she choose the family that’s about to be murdered by loan sharks?] [The crazy thing is, because she’s a lucky charm, almost no one can refuse her requests. Are they really going to adopt her?!] [This isn’t how the story is supposed to go! Are the heroine and the side character going to meet at the adoptive parents’ house now?] I latched onto the key information in the comments and pleaded again, my voice ringing with sincerity. “Please, take me with you. I like you so, so much.” The rejected Harrisons looked mortified, but beneath that was a clear, rising panic. Mrs. Harrison, the billionaire’s wife, actually knelt before me, her expensive perfume washing over me. “Luna, darling,” she cooed, her voice strained. “We have a very big house. We can give you anything you’ve ever dreamed of. Please, just think about it?” I said nothing, only pressing myself tighter against the other couple, hiding behind them. Mrs. Gable managed a polite, if strained, smile. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harrison. It seems the child has made her choice.” Then, she stroked my hair, her voice a low whisper. “Luna, that couple… they aren’t here to adopt a child.” They looked so utterly defeated that my heart ached for them. If we were both just disposable side characters, destined for a tragic end, shouldn’t we stick together? I knew they were in crisis. I knew they wouldn’t easily agree to take on another burden. They were afraid they couldn’t provide for me. “Please, just give me a home,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m ready to share whatever comes, good or bad. And if… if things go wrong, the worst that can happen is I come back here, to the orphanage. I have nothing to lose.” Just as Mrs. Gable started to pull me back, the woman’s eyes welled up with fresh tears. “You’re really not afraid? Of how poor we are?” My face lit up, and I nodded without a shred of hesitation. “Then… alright,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “Come home with us.” The Harrisons exchanged a dark look, their faces sinking. As I joyfully went with my new parents to sign the papers, a thought sparked in my mind. The comments said I could solve the Harrisons’ bankruptcy. Did that mean I could solve my new family’s problems, too? 2 Even as my new parents, the Millers, led me away, the Harrisons trailed behind, refusing to give up. “Wait!” Mr. Harrison called out, jogging to catch up, slightly out of breath. He pressed a business card into my new mother’s hand. “If, for any reason, you change your minds about the child… please, call me. My wife and I are truly fond of her.” My new mother, Sarah, glanced at the card, then at him. She took it but said firmly, “We’ll do our very best for her.” [The adoptive parents are such decent people. It makes it even harder to know they’re about to be written out of the story.] [In the original plot, the debt collectors show up in three days and murder them. The heroine, Sera, is devastated, which is when she conveniently runs into the Harrisons and is reunited with her birth family. It’s the first major tear-jerker of the book.] I stared out the car window, my small hands clenched into tight fists. They were reading a story, but this was our life. Why should we be sacrificed just to create a tear-jerking moment for their entertainment? Half an hour later, the car pulled up to a massive, sprawling mansion. The exterior was magnificent, but as we stepped inside, my new parents, John and Sarah, let out weary, bitter sighs. “We’re so sorry, Luna,” John said, gesturing around the cavernous, echoing space. “The bailiffs took almost everything. This house is just an empty shell now.” I shook my head, a genuine smile on my face. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s okay, Mom.” Just then, a girl in expensive-looking loungewear appeared at the top of the grand staircase. She stood on the second-floor landing, staring down at me with open disdain. [Aah, there she is! The heroine, Seraphina! She’s gorgeous! Just what you’d expect from a billionaire’s real daughter.] [A true main character. She’s never really suffered a day in her life. The moment her adoptive family’s fortune collapses, her real parents show up to rescue her.] “Mom? Dad? Who is she?” Seraphina demanded. The Millers exchanged a pained look. “Sera, honey, this is Luna. We’ve just adopted her.” “She’s part of our family now,” Sarah added softly. “What?!” Seraphina shrieked, clattering down the stairs. “We’re already broke! You just cut my allowance, and now you’re bringing home another mouth to feed?!” Tears welled in her eyes, a perfect picture of wounded pride. “I know I’m not your real daughter,” she sobbed. “You don’t have to rub it in by showing how little you care about me.” She sniffled dramatically. “Even if you wanted another child, you should have at least considered our financial situation! Have you found my birth parents yet? Just find them, and I’ll go back to them! I don’t want to be a burden on you any longer.” The commenters in the stream were somehow cooing over how “cute” and “considerate” she was. I stared, baffled. Her family hits a rough patch and her first instinct is to bail. How was that not the definition of an ungrateful brat? My new parents just looked at her with guilt-ridden faces. “We’re sorry, Sera,” John said quietly. “We haven’t been able to find your birth parents.” The comments said the Millers had to die to give Seraphina a reason to leave. An idea, sharp and clear, cut through my thoughts. I tugged on my new mother’s sleeve. “Mom?” I said, my voice small and innocent. “That girl… she looks a lot like that rich man and woman we saw at the orphanage today.” 3 My new parents froze. John pulled the business card from his pocket. He typed the name “Harrison” into his phone, and a picture of the billionaire popped up. He held the phone next to Seraphina’s face. Mr. Harrison was a bit heavier now, but the eyes, the nose, the shape of his face… the resemblance was undeniable. Their mouths fell open. “My God,” Sarah whispered. “He… he really does look like you.” Seraphina craned her neck to see the phone screen. When her eyes landed on the word “billionaire,” they lit up like a Christmas tree. The Millers almost called the number on the card right then and there, but they hesitated. This was too important to rush. They couldn’t just hand Seraphina over without being sure. They set me up in a room. It was bare except for a bed. Sarah looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, Luna.” I shook my head, my voice filled with genuine gratitude. “This is a hundred times better than the orphanage.” To prove it, I plopped down on the bed and snuggled into the mattress. “It’s so comfortable. Thank you, Mom. I love it.” A small, fragile smile finally touched her lips. She was worried I wouldn’t adjust, so she sat with me for a long time, talking quietly. “We used to be quite well-off, you know,” she said, her voice soft with memory. “Besides Sera, we have a son. Leo.” Her expression clouded over. “A little while ago, he just… up and left. Said he was heading to some lawless zone across the border. We haven’t heard from him since.” I looked up, shocked. Even a kid from an orphanage like me knew those places were black holes that swallowed people whole. You didn’t go there unless you had a death wish. What would a rich kid, who’d seen the world, be doing in a place like that? As she spoke, tears began to slide down her cheeks. “We spent over a million dollars trying to find him, but it’s like he just vanished off the face of the earth. Then, right after that, there was a terrible accident at one of our construction sites. Several workers fell from the 17th floor. We had to pay massive settlements, the project was shut down, and suddenly, our entire line of credit was frozen…” I frowned, my brow furrowed. “Mom, how could so many bad things happen all at once?” It was like they were cursed. Sarah sighed, her hand gently stroking my hair. “It’s not us adults I worry about. It’s you kids who are suffering.” Having grown up without parents, her simple, heartfelt kindness moved me deeply. In just one day, it was clear that she and John were good, loving people. That night, as I lay in bed, replaying the day’s events, another comment flickered into view. [Aww, the adoptive brother, Leo, really doted on the heroine. She once made a stupid bet with a friend, and he actually believed her when she said she was going to that dangerous border region by herself. He panicked and ran off to ‘save’ her that very night.] What?! I was so stunned I couldn’t breathe. Was she a heroine or a walking disaster? A life-ruiner? [Hey, cut her some slack. She felt super guilty about it later. How was she supposed to know her adoptive brother would take a joke so seriously?] “Ungrateful brat,” I muttered under my breath. [??? Who did she just call a brat?] [Did I hear her cuss someone out?] 4 The next morning, the Millers were on the phone, calling old friends and business associates to ask about the Harrisons. They were terrified of sending Seraphina into a bad situation, patiently enduring the scorn and pity of people who had once been their peers. Meanwhile, Seraphina, the subject of all this concern, couldn’t have cared less. She meticulously applied her makeup, dressed herself in an absurdly expensive outfit, and sat primly on the sofa, waiting to be collected like a prize. I watched her, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach. Something felt off. Sure enough, half an hour later, a sleek black Lincoln town car purred to a stop outside. The doorbell chimed. When my adoptive parents opened the door and saw the Harrisons standing there, they froze. They exchanged a look, their faces instantly guarded. “You’re here to…?” John started. Before he could finish, Seraphina pushed past us, her eyes already brimming with tears as she threw herself into her birth parents’ arms. “It was me,” she announced. “I called them.” The Millers fell silent, a profound sadness shadowing their faces. The Harrisons and Seraphina had their tearful reunion, followed by a flood of flowery thank-you’s from the billionaire. John and Sarah forced strained smiles. “We rescued Sera from a trafficker all those years ago,” John said, his voice heavy. “It seems she was always destined for a life better than one we could give.” I let out a small, silent, bitter laugh. It wasn’t that she was destined for a better life. It was that everyone else had to suffer to pave her way. Seraphina twisted a lock of her hair, her voice a picture of innocence. “You’re not mad at me, are you? I know I should have stayed to help you through this, but I just… I really wanted to meet my real parents. No matter who they were, they’re the ones who gave me life.” At her words, Sarah’s eyes filled with tears, but Mr. Harrison’s shrewd gaze kept darting over to me. His small, clever eyes were filled with cold calculation. He scanned the empty, cavernous room, and then made his move. “Luna,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “It seems you and our Sera were fated to be sisters.” “Now that Sera is coming home with us, why don’t you come too? We may not be related by blood, but we would treat you as our own.” Every eye in the room turned to me. Seraphina’s hand tightened on her dress, wrinkling the expensive fabric, but no one noticed. She shot me a look that was pure venom, even as her words dripped with saccharine sweetness. “Yes, Luna. It really is fate, isn’t it?” I shook my head firmly. “Mom and Dad gave me a home when no one else would. I’m not leaving them.” Sarah’s eyes reddened, and she reached out to grip my hand. She gave Seraphina a final, pained wave, unable to look at her any longer. “Go on,” she said, her voice choked. “Go on, and be good to your real parents.” As Seraphina walked away, she shot me one last look over her shoulder, her face twisted with a jealousy so raw it was almost ugly. [This side character is the worst! Is she doing this on purpose, trying to steal the heroine’s adoptive parents?] [Yeah, because she changed her mind, the whole plot is going off the rails! The Harrisons were supposed to find her *after* the Millers died.] [Her one seemingly small decision is causing a butterfly effect throughout the entire book…] I almost laughed out loud. Seraphina was a vain, selfish user, but somehow I was the bad guy? Fine. If I could cause a butterfly effect, then let’s see if I could rewrite the whole damn story. 5 After Seraphina left, my new parents grieved for a while. But I knew we didn’t have time for sadness. The debt collectors were coming. After a moment’s hesitation, I approached them cautiously. “Mom, Dad?” I began. “Sera told me before she left that you have a lot of debt. What… what happens if we can’t pay it back?” John went to the sink and splashed his face with water, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll go borrow the money.” “I’ll go with you!” I declared. He looked startled. “You should stay here with your mom. Borrowing money isn’t fun, Luna. I don’t want you to be scared.” For the first time, I disobeyed. “Please, Dad. Let me come. Maybe they’ll take pity on you if they see you have a little girl to take care of.” He couldn’t argue with that. We went to four different places. Three slammed the door in our faces. The last one threw a bucket of dirty water at us. “Listen, Miller, just give it up!” a man yelled from his doorway. “You think anyone’s going to lend you money now? Everyone knows you’re finished! It’d be like throwing cash into a bonfire. Get lost, and don’t come back!” My father’s hand trembled slightly. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He just nodded, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and pulled me away. He looked so broken. As we walked, my eyes scanned the street, and then they lit up. A lottery kiosk. If my “lucky charm” powers could solve a billionaire’s bankruptcy crisis, surely they could handle a lottery ticket. I tugged on his hand. “Dad, can I have twenty dollars?” He had only a hundred and seventy dollars left in his pocket, but he pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill and gave it to me without a word. He sank onto a nearby bench, the picture of despair. I took the money, my heart aching for him, and bought a twenty-dollar scratch-off ticket. Clutching the small piece of cardboard, I closed my eyes and prayed. If this lucky charm thing is real, please, let me win. Let me help them. I held my breath and carefully scratched off the silver coating. When I saw the prize amount, my entire body went rigid. I wanted to scream with joy, but I clamped my mouth shut, looking at the people around me. “Dad!” I sprinted back to the bench, shoving the ticket in his face. “I won! Eight hundred thousand dollars!” He managed a weak, tired smile. “That’s great, honey. You’re a real winner.” “No, Dad, it’s real! Look!” I pointed at the numbers. He finally glanced down, his weary expression instantly replaced by sheer, unadulterated shock. He shot to his feet. “You… you really won?” I nodded, my heart pounding. We rushed to the lottery office to cash it in. After taxes, we were left with $640,000. Even as the money was being transferred to his account, my father was in a daze, staring into space. “Dad, let’s go home!” I urged, bouncing on my toes. “Let’s tell Mom the good news!” His eyes were red with unshed tears of relief. “Luna,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re our little lucky star.” [The side character’s luck really kicked in… I’m so jealous! No wonder the heroine is so obsessed with stealing it. Who could resist that kind of power?] [$640,000 won’t solve their ten-million-dollar problem, but it’s a start.] [I have a weird feeling that ever since the side character chose this family, the whole plot has started to shift…] [Tomorrow is the day the loan sharks are supposed to… you know. I wonder if her being there will change anything.]

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My cousin always had my back. He married my wealthy fiancée, telling me that rich women were twisted predators who would suck a man dry, and that he would walk through fire for me. He sold her spare villa, claiming I was using it to house my mistress. He maxed out her credit card, saying it was to pay off my gambling debts. He had an affair with her pregnant best friend, causing her to hemorrhage, and then said I had sexually assaulted her, causing the miscarriage. In the end, his wife had me shipped off to a forced labor camp in Southeast Asia to atone for my sins. To tie up loose ends, he hired someone to cut out my kidneys and torture me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the affair, the day of the miscarriage. 1 Every time my cousin, Zander, went on a date with his mistress, he told his wife, Scarlett, that he was with me. The excuses varied: I was having an affair with a married woman and got beaten up, so I needed his support; I was being chased by loan sharks over gambling debts and needed help; I even supposedly needed him to accompany me to the hospital for treatment for an STD. If Scarlett hadn’t shown up at my door in a rage last time, listing off my supposed crimes, I would have never known my life was so damn colorful. Right now, Scarlett’s calls were blowing up my phone again. The second I answered, her sharp voice exploded in my ear. “Caleb, it’s so late! What are you keeping Zander at your place for again?” “I’ve had enough of you! Zander is your cousin, not your father! You’re a grown man, can you stop leeching off of him?” “Zander and I are trying for a baby. Could you have some shame and stop bothering him with your problems every single day? Do you have any idea how annoying you are?” “Is it because I dumped you before? Are you holding a grudge and deliberately trying to ruin my family? Zander is a simple man. If you keep using him like this, don’t blame me for getting rough! Send him back to me, now!” Scarlett sounded like she was at her breaking point, her voice a barrage of accusations that made my ears ache. Back when Scarlett and I were dating, I thought she was a gentle and considerate girl, without any of the arrogance of a rich heiress. But Zander always said that the sweeter a woman seemed on the surface, the more twisted she was underneath. Every time Scarlett was kind to me, he’d insist she must have been with another man, and was just putting on a show to make up for it. Then, during a rough patch between Scarlett and me, he swooped in, becoming her caring confidant. While defending her, he would casually weave elaborate tales about my supposed misdeeds. With Zander stirring the pot, Scarlett and I drifted further and further apart. If I hadn’t accidentally found a pair of Zander’s underwear at her place, I might still be congratulating myself on having such a world-wise cousin who helped me see through a manipulative woman. Not long after, he and Scarlett got married. Since then, I’d had the good sense to keep my distance. But Scarlett didn’t see it that way. Every few days, she’d call me with a new interrogation. My life, outside of work, became a constant cycle of explaining Zander’s whereabouts. The truth was, I had no idea what Zander was doing. I could only repeat the excuses he fed me, enduring her wrath and brushing her off. Until the day Scarlett stormed into my apartment, lectured me furiously, and then had her men stuff me in a sack and ship me off to a labor camp. Only then did I realize I’d been his scapegoat, his fall guy. Thinking back on Scarlett’s revenge in my past life, and Zander’s methods of silencing me, a fire started burning in my gut. Scarlett, tonight, you’re going to see with your own eyes what kind of man your ‘simple, good’ husband really is. A cold smile touched my lips. “Zander’s busy clearing out some pipes right now,” I said into the phone. “He can’t come back just yet.” Then, my expression turned to ice. I hung up and turned off my phone. I wasn’t going to waste another word on her. But soon, there was a knock at the door. The moment I turned the lock, the door burst open with tremendous force, sending me stumbling backward. Before I could react, several bodyguards pinned me to the ground. Scarlett strode in, her high heels clicking on the floor, and began to search frantically for Zander. She tore my two-bedroom apartment apart. But she found nothing. “Didn’t you say Zander was clearing out pipes? Where is he?” She stormed up to me, her face a mask of fury. Seeing her rage, a dark sense of satisfaction began to bloom inside me. I raised an eyebrow. “I only said he was clearing out pipes,” I said slowly. “I never said it was at my place. Maybe he’s clearing out the pipes at your best friend’s place. Why don’t you go check?” Scarlett’s brow furrowed. She lunged forward and grabbed me by the collar. “Don’t play games with me,” she hissed. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where are you hiding Zander?” 2 Zander’s movements were always a secret. I was just his scapegoat; how would I know where he was? “He’s a grown man with two feet,” I said flatly. “How could I control where he goes? I’m not his father!” Not getting the answer she wanted, Scarlett’s eyes turned cold. She slapped me hard across the face. Her long nails raked across my skin, leaving several deep, bleeding scratches. Rage flared inside me. But so did anticipation. Is that all it takes to make you angry? The real fury is yet to come. Seeing my defiant expression, Scarlett began to rhythmically slap my face with the back of her hand, her teeth gritted. “You think you can just clam up and I can’t do anything to you?” She pulled my phone from my pocket, turned it on, used my face to unlock it, and started scrolling through my contacts. When she saw my emergency contact, a cold smile played on her lips. She dialed the number. “Honey, what’s wrong?” My wife Amelia’s gentle voice came through the phone. I tried to speak, but one of the bodyguards clamped a hand over my mouth, silencing me. “Are you Caleb’s wife?” Scarlett asked coldly, her voice dripping with contempt. “Who is this?” Hearing a strange woman’s voice on my phone, Amelia’s tone sharpened with alarm. Scarlett looked directly at me, her expression taunting. “I’m Caleb’s ex. But don’t worry, I’m married now. I have zero interest in him.” Amelia was silent for a few seconds before asking, “Then why are you calling me from his phone?” “No reason. Just thought you should know a few things about your wonderful husband.” “His personal life is a complete mess. When we were together, he was constantly cheating on me.” “I was disgusted, so I broke up with him.” “For all these years, he’s been living off my husband, using our villa to house his mistresses, and gambling away his money, making my husband max out my credit card to pay his debts.” “You probably don’t know this, but your husband also got another woman pregnant.” “A while ago, he even went to the hospital for treatment for an STD. I suggest you get yourself checked out too.” “Aren’t you ashamed to be married to such a filthy man?” “It’s truly pathetic for a woman to live like you, treasuring a rotten piece of trash. It makes me sick just thinking about it. If I were you, I would have killed myself by now.” Scarlett’s words rained down, burying me in filth. On the other end of the line, Amelia fell into a long silence. Amelia and I had a great marriage. She was kind, generous, and gentle. For years, no matter how big our fights, she was always willing to talk things out patiently, never giving me the cold shoulder or losing her temper. But this time, it seemed Scarlett’s words had angered her so much that she didn’t want to say another word. Scarlett hung up, looking at me with triumph. “Well? Still not going to tell me where Zander is?” The bodyguard released his hand from my mouth. “You broke into my home, restrained me, assaulted me, and slandered me. These are all illegal,” I spat, glaring at Scarlett, wishing I could tear this stupid woman to shreds. Seeing my continued defiance, Scarlett’s anger grew. “Illegal? I’ll show you what’s really illegal!” She turned to her other bodyguards. “Trash this place!” On her command, the men began to furiously destroy my apartment. In minutes, my once neat and clean home was a complete wreck. Not a single thing was left intact. “Scarlett,” I said through gritted teeth, “are you not afraid of the law, acting so recklessly?” Scarlett sneered, her face full of disdain. “The law is for punishing morally corrupt, filthy men like you. Cheating is one thing, but how much money have you extorted from Zander over the years? Don’t you know? Everything in this apartment was bought with his money. I’m just breaking my own things. What’s the problem?” Scarlett’s words were forceful and self-righteous. As if she wasn’t committing a crime, but punishing a deserving sinner. I glanced at the time. It was less than half an hour until her best friend’s miscarriage. The real show was about to begin. I suppressed my anger and said playfully, “Why don’t you wait a little longer? Your husband will be contacting you soon.” Seeing my nonchalant attitude, Scarlett became even more furious. “Still talking back? Today, I’m going to completely ruin you!” “Take him away!” Several bodyguards grabbed me and dragged me to the entrance of the apartment complex. The commotion quickly attracted the attention of passersby. Seeing a crowd gathering, Scarlett seized the opportunity to publicly proclaim my ‘sins.’ In no time, a crowd had surrounded me, pointing and whispering. “This is too much! He’s a grown man, still leeching off his cousin like this. He’s just ruining his life! His cousin must be a saint to put up with him. If it were me, I would have kicked him to the curb long ago!” “He’s a classic parasite relative. He’s jealous when you’re poor and resents you when you’re rich, but he’s too lazy and greedy to do anything himself. He just takes and takes. My husband’s cousin scammed him into a mountain of debt, and he ended up jumping off a building. Now he’s paralyzed.” “Men like this are vampires. They latch onto one person and suck them dry. Whoever gets involved with him is cursed!” “And he’s filthy! Cheating on his wife with all sorts of women. I feel disgusted just living in the same complex as him.” The crowd spat their insults, all of them convinced I was a monster. Scarlett looked down at me, her expression triumphant. “Well? Still want to be stubborn?” She thought she had me cornered, that I was about to break. I just laughed coldly. “Your methods are too weak. What good is a small crowd of people in this complex going to do? I can just move and it will all be over. You should have called some online streamers to broadcast this to the whole world. That’s how you really ruin someone.” Scarlett’s face darkened. “Fine,” she hissed. “I’ll grant your wish!” She pulled out her phone and made another call. My anticipation grew. Go on. Make a scene. The bigger, the better. Let the whole world see what your wonderful husband is really like. 3 Scarlett’s influence was impressive. In no time, a horde of online streamers arrived, each holding up their phone and broadcasting me live. “Folks, I’ve got some major tea for you! See this guy right here? He may look all clean-cut on the outside, but inside, he’s completely rotten!” “For years, he’s been living by sucking his cousin dry. Whenever he needs money, he just asks his cousin. His cousin is married, with a wife at home trying to get pregnant, but this guy treats him like a servant, making him run errands, buy him things, drink with him, and even take care of him when he’s blackout drunk in the middle of the night.” “His cousin treats him so well, but not only is he ungrateful, he spends money like water, making his cousin pay for everything. He even used his cousin’s wife’s spare villa to pretend to be a tycoon and house his mistresses, tricking countless young women.” “And get this, his personal life is a disaster. He’s married, but he cheats constantly. He has women in the villa, and he’s got more on the side. He never stops. He even had an affair with a married woman and got beaten up by her husband. The list of his exploits is endless!” “I heard he even has STDs. He had no choice but to go to the hospital for treatment, but he didn’t dare tell anyone, so he made his cousin go with him. Who knows how many women he’s infected.” “I’m telling you all, remember this face. If you see him and you’re strong enough, give him a good beating. If not, just stay away. You don’t want to catch what he has.” The streamers embellished the false accusations, spinning a tale of my supposed depravity. In an instant, all the live streams were flooded with curses and insults directed at me. “Wow, his cousin and his wife are so unlucky to be stuck with such a disgusting, vile person!” “I’m so angry! This guy is a walking plague!” “Yeah, people like him are a menace to society!” The public opinion spread like wildfire. My photo was soon trending online. Labels like “Vampire,” “Toxic Cousin,” and “Syphilis Man” became my new identity. Fueled by the streamers, the crowd’s anger boiled over. They started throwing eggs and rotten vegetables at me. Some people who were eating nearby even started throwing their beer bottles at my feet. I stood there like a criminal awaiting execution, surrounded by garbage, enduring the insults. Just then, Amelia emerged from the crowd and walked towards me. Seeing her familiar face, my cold heart felt a flicker of warmth, as if bathed in sudden sunlight. Amelia was the sun in my life. She loved me, trusted me. No matter what, she was always there to comfort me with gentle patience. She was my lover, my warmest sanctuary. In that moment, all I wanted was her embrace. Without hesitation, I dropped all my defenses and opened my arms to her. But the moment I touched her, she shoved me away. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and fell backward onto the ground. Shards of broken glass from the bottles dug deep into my palms and legs. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, but the pain in my heart was deeper, sharper. Even Amelia doesn’t believe me? “Caleb, I can’t believe you’re this kind of person.” Amelia’s eyes were red as she spoke, her voice filled with disappointment and hurt. “For all these years, I trusted you unconditionally. I took care of you, never once losing my temper.” “I knew your work was hard, so when I was sick, I endured it myself. When I was in pain, I suffered in silence, just so I wouldn’t add to your stress or make you worry.” “I knew you had a sensitive stomach, so I learned how to cook special meals for you, doing everything I could to nurse you back to health.” “But you? Your so-called hard work was just leeching off your cousin!” “Your so-called fighting for our family was just supporting other women on the side!” “The body I worked so hard to nurse back to health, you desecrated in your filthy affairs!” “Caleb, you’re not just disrespecting yourself, you’re trampling on our marriage!” Amelia, who was always as gentle as water, had never been so out of control. She screamed at me, every word laced with a profound disappointment. Seeing her like this, my heart ached. I gritted my teeth against the pain and tried to stand, to explain. “Amelia, I…” Before I could finish, she slapped me across the face. “Shut up!” she spat. “Don’t say my name. You don’t deserve to!” She ripped off her wedding ring and threw it in my face. “I want a divorce!” Amelia’s words pierced my heart. Her slap shattered the last of my resolve. I stood there, stunned, as if my soul had been ripped from my body. Scarlett seized the moment to mock me. “Caleb, now you know what it feels like to be completely ruined. A greedy, morally bankrupt scumbag like you doesn’t deserve anyone’s love, and you certainly don’t deserve Zander being so good to you.” “I’m so glad I saw through you and got away from a parasitic monster like you. The thought of ever having dated you makes me sick.” “The only good thing you ever did in your life was bring Zander to me. From now on, you can just be a rat scurrying in the streets, despised by everyone. I won’t let Zander have anything to do with you anymore. Let’s see how you survive without him.” Scarlett’s speech was delivered with dramatic flair, and it resonated with the crowd. Instantly, the live comments, the onlookers, and the streamers all unleashed a fresh torrent of abuse. The weight of a thousand accusations is terrifying. Even though I had prepared myself, I couldn’t help but feel myself starting to break. Just then, Scarlett’s phone rang. The caller was Zander. The moment she answered, Zander’s trembling, panicked voice came through. “Honey, your… your best friend had a miscarriage.” Hearing this, Scarlett’s brow furrowed in alarm. “What happened?” Zander stammered, “It was Caleb. He tried to force himself on her. When she resisted, he beat her and caused the miscarriage!” Zander’s words, in the middle of this swirling vortex of hate, brought me a sharp sense of relief. Finally, it’s all coming to an end.

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Three years after breaking up with Asher Vance, his socialite mother tracked me down. She claimed he’d become a worthless degenerate and begged me to “save him.” I found him at a club, surrounded by sycophants as he flirted with girls. He froze when he saw me—then sneered. “Want me back? Get on your knees first.” I slapped him hard. Text suddenly scrolled across my vision: [Is this side character insane? Slapping the male lead!] [Our sweet heroine Claire would never act like this!] [Disobedient women deserve to die!] Asher’s face burned red with rage… Then he gritted out, “…Sorry.” The club fell silent. They’d forgotten—three years ago, I’d trained this young master to be my most obedient dog. 1 The day Asher’s socialite mother found me, I was finalizing my plans to study abroad. “Vera, please, I’m begging you. Go back to Asher and save him.” We met at the same café as last time. She got straight to the point, squeezing out a few crocodile tears. “Ever since you two broke up three years ago, he’s been spiraling. Now, he’s a completely degenerate heir who does nothing but party and waste his life away. That boy has been spoiled since birth. His father and I can’t get through to him at all. If he keeps going like this, he’ll be completely ruined!” I stirred my coffee, listening to her entire speech before letting a small, amused smile touch my lips. Because it was this same woman, in this same café, who had thrown a check at my face three years ago and demanded I leave Asher. She had arrogantly called me a gold-digging nobody, unworthy of trying to control her son. That men were born to be on top of women. That I should spend less time social climbing and more time educating myself. That my poverty was a sin and he would be better off without me. She conveniently forgot that it was because of me that Asher had managed to rein in his temper, graduate from college, and was preparing to take over the family business. I looked up at Mrs. Vance, my expression no longer holding the fear and uncertainty of three years prior. It was replaced by a cool, mature composure. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll do it.” Before she could even smile, I delivered the second half of my sentence. “But that comes with a different price tag. How long I stay by his side depends on how much you’re willing to pay. The moment the term is up, I’m gone.” Mrs. Vance’s face turned a sickly green. “Vera, how could you become so mercenary? You can’t put a price on matters of the heart! You’ve disappointed me so much!” I didn’t waste another word. I stood up to leave. Her expression shifted instantly. She scrambled to placate me, fawning and promising to wire the money immediately. I chuckled softly. Kindness gets you bullied. I learned that lesson three years ago. That night, with a five-million-dollar deposit in my account, I found the club where Asher was holding court and pushed open the door to his private room. The noise inside died instantly. All eyes turned to me. 2 Someone barked at me immediately. “Who the hell are you? You think you can just walk in here? Get the hell out!” I ignored the lapdog and scanned the room. It was filled with Asher’s usual cronies, each with a girl in a low-cut dress and a micro-skirt draped over them. Expensive liquor and food littered the table. It was a scene of pure, decadent rot. My gaze landed on Asher, slouched in a corner, leg crossed, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He’d dyed his hair a trendy ash gray and was looking down. Sitting next to him was a girl who was a watered-down version of me. I have an edge of ice; she had an air of innocence. Asher’s childhood friend recognized me, his jaw dropping. “Holy shit! Isn’t that the legendary Ve—” He slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The moment Asher heard my name, his head snapped up. Our eyes met, and he visibly flinched. The colored lights in the room seemed to dim, and I couldn’t quite make out his expression. When the lights flared back up, his face was a mask of disgust and mockery. Asher leaned back, slinging an arm around the girl beside him. Her cheeks flushed, and she snuggled against him like a delicate bird. A pity Asher didn’t notice her shy display. He was too busy trying to humiliate me. “Well now, look who it is. If it isn’t the gold digger who dumped me for money.” Asher’s eyes raked over me, from head to toe. Seeing not a single luxury brand on me, a smug satisfaction flickered across his face. “Still poor as dirt, Vera. What, you want to get back together? Why don’t you get on your knees and beg?” His friends erupted in jeering laughter. Other than his childhood friend, none of them knew who I was. Their insults were sharp and cruel. “Damn, what kind of idiot dumps a guy like Asher for money? If I were a girl, I’d be licking his boots every day. He could hit me, slap me, I wouldn’t care. I’d call him daddy!” “This chick is just trying to cash in, right? Why does she look so much like Claire? Is that a nose job? Jesus, can you stop with the desperate tactics? You’re not even fit to lick Claire’s shoes. She’s the one who deserves to be Asher’s wife!” Claire. That must be the girl’s name. As pure as it sounded. Hearing these words, Claire looked at me from the safety of Asher’s embrace with a sort of pity, hiding a sliver of triumph and disdain. She probably pitied me for going so far as to get plastic surgery to look like her, just to get close to Asher. And yet, I wasn’t even worthy of sitting beside him. Among them all, only Asher’s childhood friend remained silent, his eyes darting nervously between Asher and me. He opened his mouth as if to explain something, but someone else’s loud jeer drowned him out. Just then, the stream of text appeared before my eyes. [The villainess finally makes her entrance. Supposedly she’s the male lead’s ‘one that got away,’ but she doesn’t look like much. Way worse than our girl Claire.] [Don’t worry, she’ll be gone in a flash. The male lead has already forgotten her. He won’t give her the time of day.] [I always laugh at this part of the story. The side character tries to politely talk the male lead into going back to work, but he won’t even look at her. It’s so humiliating, hahaha!] Honestly, I had planned on being civil with Asher. It was our first time seeing each other in three years, after all. But after reading those comments, I changed my mind. Too much time had passed. Someone had clearly forgotten the rules. He needed a reminder. Asher was still preening, turning to praise his lackey for the insults, when a large shadow fell over him. I was standing right in front of him. I raised my hand high. And brought it down, hard, across his face. CRACK! The room went dead silent. 3 For a few seconds, everyone was frozen, as if someone had hit pause. Mouths hung open wide enough to fit an egg. Claire was the first to react. She glared at me, her eyes brimming with tears of indignation. “Miss, how could you hit him? Have you no decency? Even if you have a poor education and no manners, that’s no excuse to come here and harass people! Mr. Vance is not in your league!” What a masterful takedown, all without a single curse word. I found it amusing. Such a righteous little defender. Funny how she seemed to be enjoying it when they were slandering and insulting me just a moment ago. A selective sense of justice, reserved exclusively for men. [Ahhh, this bitch of a villainess is insane! Does she have a death wish, hitting a powerful male lead like that? She scared our precious heroine! Good job scolding her, sweetie! You were too gentle, though. Next time, tear her apart!] [This moron who’s doomed to die in three chapters is supposed to be his great love? More like a bad memory! With the male lead’s temper, he’s going to beat her face in!] [See, our girl Claire is gentle and considerate. The perfect little wife, born for him. She never talks back, she’s as obedient as a kitten. It’s obvious who anyone with a brain would choose, right?] [No wonder she’s the evil side character! Women who are greedy and disobedient are the worst. A woman’s greatest asset is her willingness to please a man. I hope she dies soon. Can’t wait for the male lead to lose it!] I was astonished. If being a fawning, submissive wife was what it took to be the heroine, then I was perfectly happy being the evil side character. What was a man? A creature born to serve women. They were that eager to see Asher lose his temper with me? I smiled faintly. Then I’m afraid you’re all in for a disappointment. I looked down at Asher from my superior height and said, word by word, “Apologize. To me.” A blond guy next to him spat and stood up, pointing a finger in my face. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking—” “Shut your mouth!” Asher’s roar cut the man off. The red handprint was still stark against his handsome, pale face, his eyes were crimson with fury. He met my gaze, and I saw the glint of tears in the corner of his eyes. But he gritted his teeth and forced out the words. “I’m… sor… ry.” The entire room was in shock. Asher’s friend muttered in terror. “Shit… it’s over… the only demon in the world who can control Asher is really back…” I nodded, satisfied. I was beginning to think they’d all forgotten. This young master of the Vance family had been trained, three years ago, to be my most obedient dog. 4 “All of you, get out!” When Asher gave an order, no one dared to disobey. Everyone except Claire scrambled out of the room, tripping over each other in their haste. The gossip about the young master getting slapped would probably be all over their social circle before long. Seeing that I wasn’t leaving, Claire frowned. “Miss, please leave! Didn’t you hear Mr. Vance? Can’t you show a little basic courtesy, or did you really drop out of high school?” Asher, dizzy with anger, snapped, “I was talking to you. Get out. Now.” Claire froze, her face crumpling as tears streamed down her cheeks. Though they weren’t officially together, it was clear she had already cast herself in the role of Asher’s girlfriend. She shot me a resentful glare, the kind you give the other woman, before running out of the room crying, her retreating figure like a fragile white flower. Nice. Very delicate. Too bad Asher was completely immune to such charms. He didn’t even glance her way. [What is the male lead doing?! How could he kick out his future wife? Shouldn’t he have yelled at the side character and comforted her?!] [This has nothing to do with the side character. It’s definitely because our girl said a few extra words to the second male lead yesterday, and our male lead saw and got jealous.] [Our male lead is such a little jealous baby! I hope he figures out his feelings soon and makes it up to Claire!] [But I’m still a little mad that he’s using the side character to make Claire jealous. Ugh, is he really letting this bitch get away with it?] [Don’t worry, our male lead knows what he’s doing. He would never let the side character touch a hair on his head. This is all just an act.] After enjoying their ridiculous mental gymnastics, I sat down across from Asher. “Your taste has changed?” Asher looked at me mournfully, ignoring my question. “Weren’t you going abroad? What are you doing here?” I raised an eyebrow. “How did you know I was going abroad?” Asher was speechless. “I…” “Paying such close attention to me… you’re not still in love with me, are you?” I leaned forward, my gaze invasive. The familiar pressure washed over him. Asher instinctively looked away, the tips of his ears turning red, but his mouth was still stubborn. “Who’s in love with you? That’s hilarious. It’s been 1,186 days. I’ve already forgotten all about you!” A smirk played on my lips as I stood up. “Alright. Well, I forgot to tell you, I moved my things back into the apartment we used to live in. Since you’re not interested, I guess I’ll just have to live there by myself.” Asher shot to his feet, his expression a complex mix of emotions. “You never ended the lease on that place? For three years?” I gave him a meaningful look without saying a word and pushed open the door to leave. He started yelping behind me like a desperate puppy. “Hey, hey! We can talk about this, don’t be in such a rush to leave! I never said I wouldn’t go! Dammit, you abandoned me for three years, can’t you at least pretend to beg me a little? Vera, get back here!” The corners of my mouth lifted. I leaned against the wall outside and lit a cigarette. After my foster mother passed away, I’d picked up the habit of having one occasionally. I watched the smoke curl slowly upwards, listening to Asher’s soft, excited muttering from inside the room. “Thank you, God, Jesus, Mary, and all the saints, she really came back for me…” I lowered my eyes, hiding the look in them. You fool. It wasn’t a god who answered your prayers. It was your mother’s money. 5 Asher and I met in college and were together for five years. During that time, he had countless falling-outs with his family. When a rich kid gets his allowance cut off, he’s just as broke as anyone else. So we rented a tiny one-bedroom apartment and lived there together for three years. After we broke up, I never canceled the lease. I would even come by occasionally to clean. If I had to give a reason, it was probably because after my foster mother died, it was the only place I had left that I could call “home.” I never expected it would come in handy like this. When Asher walked into the apartment and I saw the nostalgic, pained look on his face, I didn’t bother to explain the real reason. After all, I was only here for the money. Why would I say anything that didn’t benefit me? Letting him think I was nostalgic for him wasn’t a bad thing. It had only been a week since my last cleaning, so the place was spotless, preserved exactly as it was when we were in love. Asher did a slow circle of the room before turning to face the wall. As he turned, I caught the glint of red in his eyes. I knew he was already lost in his own world of romantic fantasies. Let him be. I was exhausted from the long day. I dragged my suitcase into the bedroom. Asher tried to follow me, but the door slammed shut with a decisive thud, mercilessly blocking him out. When I opened the door again in my pajamas, he was still standing there, his head hung in disappointment. If he had a tail, it would have been drooping. I tossed a set of clean men’s pajamas onto the sofa. “Change into these.” He looked up, his eyes bright, his imaginary tail wagging like a propeller. I added, “I’m sleeping in the bedroom tonight. You’re on the sofa.” And just like that, the tail drooped again. When Asher came out of the bathroom in his pajamas, I almost whistled. They say your face reflects your soul, and for someone as naive and innocent as Asher, it meant he looked young. Even after all these years since graduation, with his hair combed down, he looked as fresh as a college student. And I suspected he’d left the top buttons of his pajama shirt undone on purpose. It was a convenient way to show off his chiseled eight-pack and the V-line of his abs. Add to that his pale skin and the rivulets of water trailing down his chest, and from a purely aesthetic standpoint, I had to admit it was incredibly sexy and tempting. But I hadn’t forgotten my purpose. A financial relationship was better kept simple. I didn’t want to invite unnecessary complications. I calmly turned around, went back into my room, and got into bed. Crack. I thought I heard the sound of a young man’s heart breaking behind me. That night, for the first time in a long time, I slept well. I usually have trouble sleeping, but strangely, I always slept soundly when I was with Asher. Maybe it was because he was so simple-minded that I couldn’t bring myself to put up my guard. I don’t like enclosed spaces, so I left the bedroom door open. When I got up in the middle of the night, I tripped over something almost immediately. I turned on the lamp and froze. Asher was curled up on the cold floor beside my bed, with only his jacket for a mattress. Snapping out of my daze, I crouched down and stared at him, thinking, Is he going to start talking in his sleep now? “Vera… don’t leave me… can we please get back together…” Ha. I knew it. I leaned in close to his ear, my dark hair brushing against his cheek. “Asher, you’re a really bad actor.” Asher’s face turned visibly red. Perhaps he knew that when it came to intelligence, we weren’t in the same league. I had always been able to see right through him. “Then what’s your answer?” Asher threw caution to the wind and opened his eyes. They were as dark and deep as ink. “Let’s get back together. Forget the past and start over.”

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My roommate, Bella, told me she was pregnant. I almost died laughing. I was about to tease her—how could she be pregnant when she didn’t even have a boyfriend? But then, a line of scrolling text floated across my vision. [Whatever you do, don’t contradict her!] [Your roommate is a rabbit spirit. If you expose her phantom pregnancy, she’ll eat you!] 1 [It’s no use telling her. She’s dead for sure.] [She just has the worst luck. The heroine happens to be on leave this week; otherwise, she might have been saved.] [But if she’s saved, how does the story start? The whole plot kicks off when the heroine returns to campus, finds her roommate’s death suspicious, and begins her investigation and monster-hunting.] [I remember this first story arc being especially brutal. The rabbit spirit devours almost all the flesh from the body.] My eyes instinctively darted to Bella, who was stroking her belly with a look of tender anticipation. Then, I pulled out my phone and Googled: Do rabbits eat meat? The search results were a long-winded mess of fluff. The gist of it was: if they’re curious, they might take a nibble, but their systems can’t handle it. Too much will kill them. See? I knew it. Rabbits are herbivores. Eating people? Total nonsense. A series of ellipses drifted across the screen. [Seriously, what is with her thought process? The main point is whether rabbits eat meat?] [You should be more concerned about the fact that she just looked up, right at us.] [Are you saying she can see the comments? And she trusts Google over us? Did we not make it sound scary enough, or is this girl a complete idiot?] [Yo, you rhymed. You a rapper?] I shot bolt upright, my eyes flicking upward again. Holy crap. Normal people can’t see this text, can they? But I could. [Sweetie, if you can really see this, listen to your big sis: don’t. poke. the. bear. Do not tell her she isn’t pregnant!] [I just saved your life. You’re welcome.] [It’s no use. This is the opening act. She’s destined to…] Before I could read the rest, my arm was yanked hard. Bella had somehow appeared beside me, and she was pressing my hand against her stomach. “Kelly, I was talking to you. Why are you ignoring me?” “Here, feel my baby. It’s kicking.” 2 Feel what in that flat-as-a-board stomach? I swallowed the sarcastic remark that was on the tip of my tongue and forced a dry smile as I patted her belly. “When the baby’s born, you’ll be the godmother…” Bella’s daydream was cut short by a cold scoff. From the top bunk, Tori sat up, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “Bella, if you’re sick, go see a doctor, seriously.” “I’ve been putting up with this for long enough. You’ve been going on about being pregnant all week, but your period literally just ended three days ago. Are you having your period and a pregnancy at the same time?” The gentle expression on Bella’s face froze. I watched as she slowly, deliberately, turned her head, the bones in her neck letting out a sickening series of cracks. It was after lights-out in the dorm, and the only illumination came from a small desk lamp. So Tori probably didn’t see it. Bella’s head was now facing Tori, but her feet were still pointed at me. Her voice was ice. “Are you saying… I’m not pregnant?” A bone-deep chill crawled up my spine. My gut and the scrolling comments were screaming the same thing: the moment Tori opened her mouth again, it was over. I shot to my feet, throwing myself in front of Tori, who was climbing down from her bunk, ready for a fight. I clapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t say another word! Just shut up!” But she was already worked up. She shoved me aside. “Bella, what’s with the tone? Are you threatening me?” “You’re not pregnant! And you can’t be pregnant!” “Could you please stop playing the little expectant mother in our dorm room?” The comments flew across my vision. [It’s over.] [Told you she couldn’t be saved! The plot has to move forward, and someone has to say the lines.] [Kelly, run! Your roommate is a lost cause, but you can still save yourself!] [Just don’t watch her have the ‘miscarriage.’] 3 Wait, how do you have a miscarriage from a fake pregnancy? My brain short-circuited. I abandoned all attempts at logic and decided to just listen. If I could see phantom text and my roommate was a monster whose head could spin 180 degrees, then anything was possible. Run! My body moved faster than my brain. I grabbed Tori’s arm, trying to bolt, but she wrenched me back. “Kelly, what the hell is your problem? Telling me to shut up, taking her side?” Her grip was like a vise. I twisted my wrist, trying to break free, but she didn’t budge. What was I supposed to do? Bella was staring daggers at me. I couldn’t exactly say, She’s about to eat us. “Bella’s acting like a total psycho! Last night, I heard her cooing to a baby in her bed, you know that?” “It was two in the morning! First, she was mimicking a crying baby, then she was shushing it like a mother. It was creepy as hell!” “And her bed! Come look!” Tori was an athlete. During our freshman orientation hike, she was at the front of the pack while I was dying in the back. Now, holding me was like holding a chicken. She dragged me to Bella’s bed, which was hidden behind a curtain. Tori reached in and pulled out a huge, tangled clump of hair. “She’s been pulling out her own hair, and mine, you know that?” “Every night, in the middle of the night, she whispers my name. If I don’t answer, she reaches over and yanks out my hair! Tell me she’s not sick in the head!” Tori was filled with anger, but I was filled with a creeping dread. Though the hair was a tangled mess, I could see distinct strands that had been pulled out in clumps, one handful at a time. I could almost hear the sound of hair being ripped from a scalp. First, the soft rustle of friction, then a series of sharp, tearing pops. [FYI, this is a rabbit gathering fur to build a nest.] [This is genuinely terrifying! If I were the roommate, I’d be losing my mind too. This conflict is actually pretty well-written.] [Stop analyzing and run! Save yourself! This girl is not listening!] I tried! My arm is turning purple! I can’t get away! 4 [Too late. She’s not getting out of here.] [Remember, don’t look. Whatever you do, don’t look. The second you look, you die.] [Just try to hold out. Your best bet is to survive until the heroine gets back tomorrow.] Suddenly, a low moan came from behind us. It was Bella. It was followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor. Tori tried to turn, but I grabbed her head and held it steady. A comment flashed by, telling me to forget my roommate, that a side character was beyond saving. But to them, Tori was just a plot device, a disposable character. To me, she was my roommate, someone I saw every day, someone who, despite being blunt, had a good heart. My voice trembled. “Bella’s dead. It’s past midnight, this is the witching hour for her ghost. If you make eye contact, we’re both finished. So no matter what you hear, do not look at her.” Tori frowned, looking at me like I’d lost my mind. Dammit. I’d just spun a story that was, in theory, more believable than my roommate is a rabbit-monster who eats people. Why wouldn’t she believe me? Splat. Splat. The wet, sticky sound moved closer, fast. A pair of bloody hands clamped around my ankle and Tori’s. We both instinctively looked down. Bella’s eyes were blood-red, staring at us with pure, venomous hatred. “You see? Do you see now?” “My baby is gone.” A long, smeared trail of blood stretched out behind her. Her body was covered in it, making her look utterly horrifying. I sucked in a sharp breath. Fear finally flickered in Tori’s eyes. The next second, Bella’s expression crumpled into one of fragile agony. She pleaded in a tear-choked voice, “My stomach hurts so much. Please, take me to the hospital.” She held a weak hand out to us. Tori, petrified, was being pulled down, about to bend over and help her. [The rabbit spirit eats the face first.] [The moment her head is down, she’s a goner. It’s like a free meal delivery.] 5 [I can’t watch. Are they gonna censor it when she takes a bite?] I shrieked, kicking Bella square in the face, and yanked Tori with me as we scrambled out the door. Even as we fled, Tori’s mind was still processing. “Did Bella really have a miscarriage? Because of what I said?” “We should call 911. She lost so much blood…” She actually started to turn back. I was losing my mind. This wasn’t just being clueless; this was a whole other level of disconnection from reality. I finally snapped, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her, trying to rattle the water out of her brain. “Are you dense? No normal person loses that much blood and just gets up! They’d be dead or in shock!” “You’re the one who said she was acting weird! You called her a psycho! Why are you trying to go back?” Tori stared at me, her expression just as bewildered. “I hate that she’s acting crazy, but that doesn’t mean I’d leave her to die.” “You’re the one being weird! She’s bleeding out and you kicked her! If she dies, you’re going to jail!” Then it hit me. Tori’s strength was her unshakable rationalism. She didn’t read fantasy or horror; she was a devout skeptic. Faced with something this supernatural, my first thought was ghosts and monsters. Her first thought would always be psychotic break. As we stood there deadlocked, Tori suddenly raised a hand and wiped her face. A smear of red stung my eyes. I slowly lifted my head, swallowing hard. “If Bella could climb onto the ceiling… would you believe she’s a monster then?” 6 Maybe it was the sheer terror frozen on my face, but Tori followed my gaze upward. Bella was clinging to the ceiling like some kind of spider. Her four limbs were splayed against the walls, and her head swiveled towards us with a series of sickening cracks. That familiar, 180-degree turn. Her irises and sclera were gone, replaced by a solid, bloody red that filled her entire eye sockets. I wasn’t sure if those were the natural red eyes of a rabbit or if they were stained red by her hatred. She stared down at us, the corners of her mouth slowly, unnaturally, changing shape. In horror movies, to build the atmosphere, the monster usually smiles, a grotesque grin stretching from ear to ear, revealing a bloody maw. But not Bella. Her mouth curved downward into a sharp, inverted U, while the other muscles in her face remained completely still. It created a deeply unsettling, discordant wrongness. Tori was trembling uncontrollably. “Holy sh… is this Gonjiam?” She was way scarier than the black-eyed, rapping ghost from that movie. I clasped my hands together, praying to the air. “Please, just tell me a safe place to hide for the night.” I was begging the comments for guidance. Tori thought I had finally cracked. If we had faced this alone, we would have panicked and been torn apart. But with two people, one always ends up taking charge. She tightened her grip on my wrist and broke into a dead sprint. “I know a place we can hide. Come on!” 7 Our dorm building had six floors, and we lived on the top one. Tori pulled me on a frantic dash down the stairs, the thump-thump-thump of our footsteps echoing through the deserted hallway. It was the middle of the night, yet no doors opened, no one yelled at us, and the dorm supervisor was silent. The splat-splat-splat sound followed us relentlessly. I didn’t have to look back to picture Bella crawling along the walls, chasing us. Tori’s speed was incredible. She led me through a series of twists and turns, finally shoving us into an empty dorm room with a loosely latched lock. “Shh! Don’t talk!” We held our breath, pressing our ears against the door to listen. Splat-splat-splat-splat… The sound paused right outside our door for a moment, then continued its rapid descent down the stairwell. We collapsed to the floor, gasping with relief. “If she’s a ghost, does that mean we’re safe once the sun comes up?” Tori whispered. I wasn’t so sure. Because Bella wasn’t a ghost. She was a monster. And monsters don’t care if it’s day or night when they decide to eat. We didn’t need to survive until dawn. We needed to survive until the heroine arrived. Our other roommate, Sabrina, was the heroine the comments mentioned. She’d taken an abrupt leave of absence last week, looking pale and unwell. We’d all assumed there was a family emergency. Our worried texts had gone unanswered. But according to the comments, she had gone home for a “bloodline awakening” to unlock her supernatural sight. The remote mountain home had no cell service. Now, the ritual was complete, and she was on her way back. I desperately dialed her number. Each ring felt like an eternity of torture. Finally, Sabrina’s cool, collected voice answered. “Kelly? What’s wrong? Why are you calling so late?” Tears welled in my eyes as I quickly explained everything that had happened and where we were. “We’re hiding in an empty room on the fourth floor. She didn’t find us.” 8 Tori gestured to me that she needed the bathroom. I nodded. As the terror and adrenaline faded, I realized my own bladder felt fit to burst. Sabrina took a deep breath, her tone turning grave. “After Bella grabbed you, did you wash the blood off?” Blood? I looked down and saw the dried, crusty handprints on my ankles. My breathing grew heavy. Sabrina understood immediately and cursed under her breath. “Wash it off, now! And get out of there!” “As long as her blood is on you, she can find you anywhere.” I’d thought Bella found us before because Tori and I had been arguing too loudly. It was the blood. I scrambled to the small sink in the room, turning on the tap and scrubbing frantically. I called out to Tori, “Get out here and wash the blood off! We have to find another place to hide!” Before Tori could answer, Sabrina cut me off. “You two aren’t together?” “Tori just said she needed the bathroom. I’m in the main room, we’re just…” separated by a single door. Sabrina’s voice was sharp, cutting through my explanation. “There’s no time!” “Tori was the one who exposed her fake pregnancy. Bella hates her the most.” “She probably knew you were in there the whole time. The reason she didn’t come in was because she was waiting for you to split up…” In the back of my mind, I thought I heard a sickening, wet chewing sound coming from the bathroom. The bathroom door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, and the sight that met my eyes nearly sent me crumpling to the floor. The small room was slick with blood. Tori was slumped on the floor. Her throat had been torn out. Half the skin on her face was peeled away, revealing the raw muscle and gleaming white bone beneath. I clapped a hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. She was still alive. She was even conscious. As I opened the door, her one remaining eye swiveled towards me, filled with terror and despair. I saw her mouth moving, forming small, soundless words over and over. Run… fast… I vaguely heard Sabrina shouting in my ear. “Kelly, run!” “Bella’s still in there! Tori is the bait…” A chunk of flesh fell from above. Bella was clinging to the ceiling, a grotesque smile twisting her face as she looked down at me. I stared, mesmerized, at her still-chewing mouth, unable to even scream. How did this happen? [Why isn’t she running?] [She got in touch with the heroine! There was still hope!] [I think she’s in shock.] [Well, that’s it. No hope left.] [Is she blaming herself? That roommate was asking for it. She was never going to make it.] [I told her to run on her own. She didn’t listen, and now look at the mess she’s in.] [Guys, stop. She can see this…] The comments scrolled past, none of them mourning Tori’s death. For them, she was already forgotten. “Kelly!” Sabrina’s voice was a lifeline. “One hour! Hide by yourself for one hour, I’m almost there.” “I’ll take care of her. We’ll get revenge for Tori together!” “So please, please, don’t let anything happen to you.” The instant before Bella lunged at me, I slammed the bathroom door shut. She was trapped, for a moment. I stumbled out of the dorm room and fumbled with the loose lock, snapping it firmly into place. A furious pounding began from inside. My first instinct was to run downstairs, but as my foot hit the first step, I jerked to a halt. Running down is easier than running up. But the main entrance on the first floor was locked every night. I didn’t know the layout down there, didn’t know anyone. If I couldn’t wake the dorm supervisor, I’d be a rat in a trap. “Kelly, go up! Go back to our room! There’s a protective charm under my pillow. Put it on!” I managed a choked “Okay.” [I remember the heroine’s charm was consecrated by her master.] [Right. The heroine’s special constitution made her a target for spirits, but she couldn’t see them to fight back, so her family gave her the charm for protection.] A loud crash echoed from behind me. The dorm room door had been smashed open.

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Three years after my death, an app called The Book of Life and Death was forcibly installed on every mobile phone in the world. The rules were simple: Anyone could nominate a deceased person for resurrection. After seven days, the user with the highest global Karma score would have their wish granted. The resurrected person would be soul-bound to their nominator, automatically joined in marriage. The second the app went live, my husband, the world’s wealthiest man, Adrian Lowe, made his nomination. But he didn’t nominate me. He nominated his first love, the one who had always held his heart: Sierra Xia. He leveraged his immense wealth, launching a global charity blitz. His Karma score skyrocketed at an astronomical rate, leaving everyone else in the dust. The world watched, certain he would be the sole victor. But on the second day, another nomination quietly appeared beneath his post. “I want to resurrect the wife of the man above me.” 1 I had been dead for three years, murdered by Adrian Lowe, yet my soul remained trapped in our marital home. Day after day, I watched him. I watched him grieve for another woman, mourn for another woman. Until The Book of Life and Death appeared. Without a moment’s hesitation, Adrian orchestrated an unprecedented spectacle of philanthropy for Sierra. He launched a 24/7 global livestream, donating billions to refugee agencies in Africa. He funded the construction of a thousand schools in remote, impoverished regions. He poured colossal sums into wildlife conservation efforts. His Karma score shot up like a rocket, creating a celestial chasm between him and the next contender. In a live interview with global media, his face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot. He played the part of the heartbroken saint, a man willing to sacrifice his fortune to resurrect his one true love, to perfection. “Yes, I nominated Sierra Xia,” he said, his voice husky, filled with a storyteller’s sorrow. “She was the only light in my life. The one and only love I will ever know.” An audacious reporter brought up my name—Nora Grey, his legal wife. A look of carefully crafted helplessness and pity flickered across Adrian’s face. “My marriage to Nora was… a mistake from the very beginning. A debt of gratitude owed by our parents forced us together. I respected her, but I… I never loved her.” He paused, as if wrestling with an immense, unspoken pain. Then, he delivered the lie that would stun and enrage the world. “I never knew a person could be so venomous…” he choked out, a single, perfect tear tracing a path down his cheek. “Three years ago, Sierra needed an operation. It was her only chance at survival. And Nora… Nora was the only bone marrow match in the world. I begged her. I got on my knees. I promised her all my wealth, everything I owned, if she would just save Sierra’s life.” “She agreed, on the surface. But I found out later… she hated me. She hated Sierra. She hated us so much that, when she went to donate her marrow, she took a banned drug, a substance that temporarily alters the viability of bone marrow cells…” He closed his eyes, his face a mask of agony. “It was my fault. I should have seen the darkness in her heart sooner. In the end, the drug backfired. She died on the operating table. But she succeeded… in the most vicious way imaginable, she murdered the woman I loved.” His masterful reversal of the truth instantly transformed him into a tragic hero, a man trapped in a loveless marriage, whose true love was murdered by a jealous wife. And I, Nora Grey, was summarily crucified on a pillar of shame, branded a “murderer who got what she deserved.” The world wept for him. The world spat on my name. Everyone believed he would be the sole victor. But the next day, another nomination appeared beneath his post. It was simple, direct, almost jarring in its audacity. “I want to resurrect Nora Grey, the wife of the man above me.” The nominator: Julian Shen. A name I didn’t recognize. The internet erupted in ridicule. He was mocked as an attention-seeking clown, a twisted freak who sympathized with a killer. But my soul, my trapped and tormented soul, trembled violently at the sight of that name. The bloody, humiliating memories of my life came roaring back, threatening to swallow me whole. 2 My marriage to Adrian Lowe was born from a debt. My family, the Greys, had saved the Lowes from ruin during their darkest hour. To seal the bond between our families, we were betrothed as children. I was naive enough to believe that a childhood friendship could, with time, blossom into love. I was wrong. On our wedding night, there was no celebration, no tender words. Adrian took me to the cold, sterile blood-drawing room of his private hospital. I remember the way he gripped my chin, his eyes colder than a scalpel. “Nora Grey, since you schemed your way into this marriage, you will fulfill your duties as Mrs. Lowe.” “Your duty,” he continued, his voice a blade of ice, “is to use your blood to keep Sierra alive.” That night, I learned the truth. Sierra Xia, the woman he adored, suffered from a severe blood disorder. She needed regular transfusions to survive. And I, I possessed the extremely rare P-type blood that was a perfect match for hers. From that day forward, I was no longer Nora Grey. I was no longer Mrs. Lowe. I was a walking, breathing, warm-blooded IV bag. The weekly forced blood draws became my living nightmare. My body grew weaker, my face paler with each passing day. I watched, week after week, as my blood was siphoned from my body, bag by precious bag, and slowly dripped into Sierra Xia’s veins. She would hold my hand, her face a mask of innocent sweetness, and say, “Oh, Nora, your blood is just wonderful. Look, my cheeks are all rosy now. Adrian says you’re my lifesaver.” And Adrian would stand by, watching her with eyes full of adoration, as if gazing upon a masterpiece. In his masterpiece, she was the beloved subject. And I? I was merely the paint. One day, after a transfusion, Sierra, resting in her hospital bed, began to cough violently, her face turning deathly pale. She clutched at Adrian’s sleeve as he rushed to her side, her voice as fragile as spun glass. “Adrian… I… I don’t know what’s wrong. After the transfusion today, my chest feels so tight, I can’t seem to catch my breath.” The doctors examined her immediately, but all the tests came back normal. She looked at me, her eyes filled with a kind of wounded accusation, before shaking her head at Adrian. “It’s nothing, really. It’s probably just me.” Her performance only made Adrian’s heart ache for her more. “Adrian,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “do you think… maybe… could it be that Nora has been in a bad mood lately? And so her blood… isn’t as clean?” Adrian’s head snapped towards me, his eyes filled with a chilling disgust. He ripped the needle from my arm, heedless of the blood that welled up, and ordered his men to hold me down on the bed. “Take another two hundred ccs!” he barked at the nurse. Then he leaned over me, his face close to my pale, weakened one, and spat out each word with venom. “Nora Grey, I don’t care what you’re thinking. You will get rid of that disgusting resentment and jealousy.” “Your life is worthless, but your blood must be pure. Sierra’s health is a million times more important than your life.” “If Sierra feels the slightest bit unwell again, I will have the doctors double the amount. We will drain every last drop of your filthy emotions from your body!” I went into shock from blood loss that day. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was the two of them on the sofa in my hospital room, wrapped in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world. In Adrian’s hand was a jade bracelet I knew all too well. It was the only thing my mother had left me, a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter. Adrian had often mocked it, calling it old-fashioned and unworthy of the mistress of the Lowe family, telling me to hide it away so it wouldn’t embarrass him. Now, he completely ignored my frail form on the bed. He took Sierra’s hand and gently slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. Her wrist was slender and pale, and the jade did indeed look radiant against her skin. She feigned reluctance, but her eyes, sharp and venomous, darted towards me in triumph. “Adrian, I don’t know… this is Nora’s mother’s, after all…” “Silly girl,” Adrian interrupted, his voice dripping with affection. “What’s hers? What’s mine is yours. Besides…” He finally turned to look at me, his gaze imperious, as if savoring the look of numb despair on my face. He held up Sierra’s wrist, adorned with my mother’s bracelet. “Nora, open your eyes and look. This bracelet… it truly shines on the wrist of someone as pure and graceful as Sierra.” “On you, it just looked gaudy. It was an insult to the jade. Don’t you agree?” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, refusing to make a sound. In that moment, I finally understood. I wasn’t just her blood bag. I didn’t even have the right to own my mother’s legacy. They laughed, admiring the bracelet on her wrist, and left the room. And I lay on the bed, my eyes closed, my body cold as ice, a corpse without a soul. My soul was shackled to this house of horrors, forced to relive the agony of my stolen life. Was this my eternal damnation? Or was the arrival of this mysterious Julian Shen a sign? A chance, not just for resurrection, but for retribution? 3 In those dark, sunless days, I sought a sliver of solace in anonymous philanthropy. Using my substantial dowry and with the help of my father’s loyal former staff, I secretly established several charitable foundations focused on education and medical aid. The one I poured my heart into the most was the “Starlight Initiative,” a project dedicated to funding early-stage cancer research. Reading the letters of gratitude from those I helped was the only thing that made me feel like a living person, not just a walking corpse. Adrian was, of course, dismissive of my efforts. “If you have time for these childish, boring games,” he’d sneer, “you should be thinking about how to serve Sierra and make her happy.” He never imagined that these “boring games” would one day become the very tools he used for his grand performance. One day, Sierra casually mentioned to the media that she wished she could contribute more to charity. To please her, to paint her as the kindest soul in the world, Adrian used his formidable resources to uncover all the foundations registered under my name. Then, at a glittering charity gala, in front of a crowd of socialites and reporters, he announced the formation of a new brand: “The Heart of Sierra.” He took my “Nora Foundation,” the one I had built from the ground up, and gifted it to Sierra on stage, renaming it on the spot. He forced me to attend that night. I was dressed in a gorgeous but constricting gown he’d chosen for me, sitting in the audience like a doll. I watched as Sierra, in a pristine white dress, walked onto the stage as the “founder,” accepting the adoration and praise of thousands. I shot to my feet, ready to rush the stage, to tell the world that it was mine, that it was all mine! I had barely taken a step when Adrian materialized at my side like a phantom. His face was wreathed in a gentle smile, but his arm gripped me like an iron vise. SLAP! Another sharp, crisp slap, right in front of all the guests behind me. The sound echoed in the silent hall. Everyone turned to look. He leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. “Don’t you dare make a scene. Sit down. Or tomorrow’s headline will be the bankruptcy of the Grey family.” Then, he straightened up, presenting a pained, tolerant expression to the stunned guests. “My apologies, everyone. My wife… she’s a bit emotionally unstable. Please, forgive her.” I was frozen in place, listening to the undisguised whispers around me. “Look at her. Just like they say, she’s not right in the head.” “Poor Mr. Lowe, married to such an unpresentable madwoman.” “If it were me, I’d have divorced her long ago. It’s only because he’s so kind that he still brings her out.” He held me down in my seat, a prisoner being publicly executed.

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