The divorce papers hit the marble table with finality. Conrad slid them toward me like a bill as I devoured a $2 donut at his gleaming dining table—its surface so polished I could see my own wretched reflection. Mrs. Gable served Conrad his Ethiopian coffee, the aroma clashing with the fir incense permeating the house. Nauseating. “Sign it.” He stirred his coffee, spoon clinking against china. A grating, delicate sound. I wiped greasy fingers on Lillian’s silk pajama pants (left here “accidentally”) before picking up the thick, gilded document: DIVORCE AGREEMENT Article 1: Rina waives all marital assets. Article 2: Vacate Siega properties within 24hrs. Article 3: No contact with Conrad or Lillian Vance. Article 4: One-time payment: $50,000. My name—”Rina,” a gift from my pretentious father who hoped it’d grant me clarity—stared back, mocking. … And the last one: This agreement is effective upon signing. Rina Williamson agrees to these terms irrevocably and for all time. I finished reading. The only sounds in the cavernous room were the soft sips of Conrad’s coffee and the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, where Mrs. Gable was pretending to be busy. She was listening, of course. Everyone in this sterile modernist mansion knew that “Mrs. Siega” was nothing more than a placeholder. A cheap imitation occupying Lillian’s rightful throne. And now, the queen was returning. The forgery had to be disposed of. “Finished?” Conrad finally lifted his gaze. God, he was handsome. A face carved from stone by a master sculptor, with eyes so deep they could make a dog feel cherished. The look he gave me, however, was colder than the one he reserved for the doormat. “Three hundred thousand?” I pointed to the number. My voice was hoarse. The donut, probably. “Not enough?” A corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. A razor-thin, cruel line. “Don’t be greedy, Rina. You’ve done nothing but spend my money for three years. Three hundred grand is more than enough for you to crawl back to whatever dreary little town you came from and live out your days.” He paused, adding the next part as if tossing a bone to a stray. “Assuming, of course, you don’t blow it all like the idiot you’ve always been.” I looked down at the string of zeros. Three hundred thousand dollars. To Conrad, it was probably less than a rounding error on the watch currently strapped to his wrist. No, wait. That watch was worth over a quarter of a million. This wasn’t even a rounding error. It was an insult. But to me? To the girl whose family had gone bankrupt, whose father had skipped town, and whose mother was wasting away in a hospital bed—to a parasite who had no skills beyond being “Mrs. Siega”—three hundred thousand was a fortune. It was a lifeline. It was the money that could keep my mother breathing for another few months. My fingers tightened on the papers, the sharp edges digging into my skin. A dull ache bloomed in my chest, a phantom pain from a blunt knife twisting slowly. It wasn’t for Conrad. It was for me. For the past three years, I had been a canary in a gilded cage, fed on luxury until my brain had rusted shut. I’d willingly played the background character in his and Lillian’s epic romance. The cheapest kind of extra. Everyone knew he’d only married me to spite his family, a petty act of rebellion to show Lillian, who’d stormed off to Europe after a spat. Now she was back. And my role as a prop was over. What a fucking joke. I took a deep breath. The cloying mix of fir, coffee, and the faint, greasy ghost of my donut filled my lungs. “Fine,” I heard myself say, my voice surprisingly steady. “Pen.” Conrad seemed taken aback. He’d probably expected tears, a tantrum, the usual brainless smashing of expensive trinkets. He frowned but pulled a sleek, heavy-looking fountain pen from the inner pocket of his tailored suit. Sterling silver. He passed it to me. I reached for it. The moment my fingertips brushed against the cool, heavy metal of the pen— ZAP. A bolt of raw, high-voltage electricity shot through my skull. My vision went black. A flood of shattered images and sharp, screaming voices crashed over me, a tidal wave of someone else’s agony, drowning my already fragile consciousness. “Rina is such an idiot! She deserved to be used!” “Damn, Conrad is ruthless. Three hundred grand to dump her after three years.” “I heard Lillian is officially moving in next month. He’s having the entire master suite redecorated for her!” “Did you hear about Rina’s mom? She’s not gonna make it. When it rains, it pours…” “Sign it! Just sign the damn thing and you’ll be free! You can save your mother!” “DON’T SIGN IT! RINA, IF YOU SIGN IT, YOU’LL HAVE NOTHING! Conrad and Lillian will bleed you dry! They’ll cut off your mother’s medical payments! THEY WILL DESTROY YOU!” That last voice. A shriek. Raw and desperate, laced with the taste of blood and regret. It was my voice. But not my voice. It was the voice of a Rina from another time, another life, screaming herself hoarse to warn me. The darkness receded. My vision snapped back into focus. I was still in Conrad’s opulent dining room. The heavy silver pen was still in my hand. Conrad was watching me, his expression a cocktail of impatience and contempt. “What are you staring at? Just sign it.” It felt like an eternity, but it could only have been a second. Yet every pore on my body had erupted. A cold sweat drenched my back. The hand holding the pen trembled violently. Those voices… those images… If I sign, they’ll cut off Mom’s medical payments? Conrad and Lillian will destroy me? An arctic chill shot up from the soles of my feet and exploded at the base of my skull. That wasn’t a hallucination. It was a warning. A primal, instinctual klaxon blaring in my soul. Something inside my head… had just woken up. “I…” My throat was tight, my voice like sandpaper. “I need a minute to read this properly.” Conrad’s brows slammed together. “Rina. Don’t play games. It won’t end well for you.” “I’m not playing games.” I forced myself to be calm, placing the pen gently on the gilded agreement with a soft click. “Three hundred thousand dollars. To buy out three years of my life, to ensure I walk away with nothing, and to buy a promise of my eternal silence.” I lifted my head and looked him directly in the eye. For the first time, truly, without a trace of fear or fawning. A flicker of surprise, almost imperceptible, crossed his face. “This is a big decision. I think I’m entitled to read the fine print, don’t you? A man of your stature wouldn’t begrudge his… ex-wife… a little time, would he?” I let the word ‘ex-wife’ hang in the air, laced with self-mockery. He stared at me, his gaze sharp enough to cut glass, searching my face for any sign of a bluff, any hint of a stalling tactic. But my mind was a chaotic storm, and my face was likely a mask of numb shock. After a few seconds, he looked away, picking up his coffee cup and retreating behind his usual wall of cold superiority. “One day. Tomorrow. At this time. I want the signed agreement on this table. Otherwise…” He didn’t finish the sentence. The threat hung in the air, thick and suffocating. “Mrs. Gable,” he called out, his voice sharp. “Clear this table. This mess is an eyesore.” The housekeeper scurried out, efficiently whisking away my half-eaten donut and its greasy paper bag, her eyes darting towards me with a mixture of pity and… was that a flicker of satisfaction? The cold, hard truth of my position here. I pushed myself to my feet. My legs felt like jelly, but I willed them to hold. “Understood.” I turned and walked away. I didn’t look back at Conrad. I didn’t look back at the divorce agreement lying on the cold marble, a death sentence waiting to be signed. Step by step, I climbed the sweeping staircase, back to the enormous, empty bedroom that belonged to “Mrs. Siega.” My mind was still buzzing, those fragmented voices echoing like a swarm of angry hornets. “Conrad and Lillian have a suite at The Zenith Hotel! Room 1608! They’re going there tonight!” “Lillian’s pregnant! Conrad’s planning to use the baby to solidify his position at Siega Industries! Your divorce has to be finalized before he makes the announcement, or it’ll tarnish his ‘perfect’ family man image!” “Find a private investigator! Mickey. He’s cheap, but he’s good. Address is behind the old post office on Miller Street, third door in the alley, second floor. Tell him ‘The Magpie’ sent you!” “Your mom’s medical bills! All of them! They’re in the locked drawer at the bottom of your nightstand! The key is… in the lining of your old purse! Don’t let the Siegas find it!” “Rina! Don’t trust him! Don’t sign! You have to live! For your mother! For yourself!” That last voice, a desperate, blood-soaked plea, slammed into my heart. I shoved the heavy bedroom door shut, leaning back against the cool wood and sliding down to the plush carpet. My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild, frantic drum solo threatening to burst through. I gasped for air, my hands and feet ice-cold, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. What was that? A premonition? Or had I finally had a complete psychotic break? No. It was too real. Every detail had the cold, sharp texture of truth. Conrad and Lillian at The Zenith, room 1608? Lillian pregnant? A PI named Mickey? My mother’s medical bills… I scrambled on all fours towards the ridiculously ornate, king-sized bed. The nightstand. The bottom drawer. There it was. A small, discreet drawer with a lock I’d never even noticed before. The key… the voice said it was in my old purse. My old purse? Like a madwoman, I flung open the door to the walk-in closet, a space larger than my old apartment, filled to bursting with designer clothes and handbags Conrad had bought to maintain the “Mrs. Siega” facade. My own things? They’d been purged long ago. In the farthest, darkest corner, covered in a fine layer of dust, was a large, worn-out tote bag. The one I’d brought with me when I first moved in. I dragged it out, its contents spilling onto the floor—a few outdated dresses and a scuffed Coach wallet. So old the edges were frayed. With trembling hands, I opened it. Tucked into a hidden pocket in the lining… there it was. A tiny, brass-colored key. Clutching the key, I rushed back to the nightstand, jamming it into the tiny lock. Click. It opened. Inside, there were no jewels, no hidden cash. Just a thick, terrifying stack of hospital bills. Payment demands. Overdue notices. Final warnings. My mother’s name, Iris Williamson, was at the top of every one. And next to it, a number that made my blood run cold. Total Amount Due: $47,860.00. The most recent notice was dated yesterday. “Failure to settle the outstanding balance exceeding $50,000 will result in the immediate suspension of all treatments and medication.” Stamped below was the hospital’s official seal. Red as blood. My blood. It rushed to my head in a furious, roaring wave. Conrad. He knew. He fucking knew my mother was in that hospital, her life hanging by a thread, waiting for money he controlled completely. He bought me million-dollar necklaces I never wore, haute couture gowns I hated, but he let my mother rack up tens of thousands in life-or-death medical debt. And now, he wanted to buy my silence for three hundred grand. Then, just as the voice had warned, he would cut off the payments. He would let my mother die to clear the way for Lillian and their precious baby. A guttural, animalistic sound ripped from my throat. Rage. Hot as lava, it vaporized every last scrap of my fear and weakness. It burned my eyes red. It made my body tremble not with fear, but with a terrifying, newfound power. It wasn’t a hallucination. The voice screaming in my head was an awakening. It was me, the disposable side character, refusing to be crushed by the plot. It was my own soul’s final, desperate roar against annihilation. Conrad. Lillian. You think you can get rid of me for three hundred thousand dollars? You think you can just let my mother and me disappear into the night? You have no fucking idea what you’ve just unleashed.

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1 When Justin’s family went bankrupt, I was the one by his side in a dingy basement apartment, working three jobs a day to pay off his debts. When he rebuilt his empire, he proposed, promising me a real home. Three years into our marriage, I accidentally saw the deed to our house. The owner’s name listed was his first love. He looked at me, his eyes red-rimmed, and choked out, “I owed it to her.” I nodded, then slid a photo across the table—a picture of the mountain of collection notices that had once covered every inch of our tiny desk in that basement. “The house has settled your debt to her. So what about the debt you owe me?” … I gently pushed the property deed across the coffee table toward Justin. The words “Owner: Amanda Remar” burned into my retinas. The color drained from Justin’s face. He instinctively reached to snatch the paper away, but his hand froze mid-air. “Ella, please, let me explain…” His voice was hoarse, his eyes instantly welling up. It was a look I knew all too well. It was the same guilt-ridden, vulnerable expression he always wore when he knew he’d wronged me. I used to be a complete sucker for it. “Fine,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm as I lifted a glass of water to my lips. “I’m listening.” He stared at me, a flicker of panic in his eyes. My composure was clearly not what he’d expected. “Amanda… she’s not doing well,” he began, the words catching in his throat. “Back then, my parents forced us to break up. It sent her into a severe depression. She had to drop out of college… it completely ruined her life.” “So, this house is… it’s compensation. Ella, I owed her this.” I nodded slowly, feigning understanding. “Then what about what you owe me?” Justin stared, dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t comprehend the question. I broke his gaze, pulled out my phone, and found a photo I’d saved for years. It was taken in the cramped, hundred-square-foot basement we used to rent. A worn-out folding table was buried under a mountain of menacing, red-stamped collection notices. In the corner of the frame, you could just make out the side of his face, gaunt and hollowed by despair. “The house has settled your debt to her,” I repeated, my voice flat. “So what about the debt you owe me?” He looked down at the photo, and his body jolted as if struck. The image seemed to drag him back into the suffocating memory of those years we’d spent clinging to each other in shared misery. To pay off the astronomical debt his family had left behind, I’d quit my stable job to juggle three different ones. For three years, I never slept more than four hours a night. I remember one time, I was burning up with a fever. Too broke to see a doctor, I just buried myself under the blankets, trying to sweat it out, and nearly ended up with pneumonia. Justin had held me, sobbing like a child, swearing he would give me a real home, that he would never let me suffer again. And he had kept his promise. He rose from the ashes and became one of the city’s most formidable new tycoons. And he gave me a home. A home with another woman’s name on the deed. “Ella.” Justin looked up, the guilt in his eyes so thick it was practically overflowing. “I know I’ve failed you more than anyone. But Amanda and I are over. You’re the one I love. You’re the only one who will ever be my wife.” “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, okay?” he pleaded, reaching for my hand. “Amanda already lost me; she can’t lose everything else. Just… think of the house as me closing that chapter of my life for good.” I gently pulled my hand away. “Alright. I understand.” Seeing that I wasn’t screaming or throwing things, he visibly relaxed, assuming I’d bought his pathetic explanation. I simply took out my phone and sent a quiet message to my lawyer, telling her to draft the divorce papers as soon as possible. 2 Justin hesitated before speaking again. “Ella, can I ask you for something?” “It’s just… Amanda’s having some trouble with her landlord. She got kicked out of her place and can’t find a new one on such short notice.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Do you think… she could stay with us for a little while? Just until she gets back on her feet.” I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity. Had Justin completely lost his mind? “Do you really think that’s appropriate?” I asked, my voice dripping with ice. “What’s not appropriate about it?” His tone immediately hardened with impatience. “Ella, since when did you become so petty? I told you, she and I are ancient history. You’re the only one I care about.” “She’s a single woman with nowhere to go. What’s wrong with us helping her out?” “Don’t worry,” he added, his voice full of self-righteous conviction. “I would never betray you.” But he already had. He betrayed me the moment he decided to give our home to another woman. “Justin,” I said, enunciating each word with chilling clarity. “What kind of pathetic doormat do you take me for?” “Do you think that just because I went through hell with you, I deserve to be trampled on like this?” He fell silent. After a long moment, he sighed, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Ella, don’t overthink this. I’m just helping a friend. It’s decided. I’m going to go pick her up.” And with that, he walked out. As the front door slammed shut, I closed my eyes, forcing back the stinging tears. He wasn’t worth a single one. Just then, my phone rang. It was Justin’s mother. “Ella, dear. It’s the weekend tomorrow. Why don’t you and Justin come back to the family home for dinner?” Justin’s mother had always been kind to me. I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. “Of course, Mom. We’ll be there.” After hanging up, I stared out the window as the sky bled into a cold, dark gray, a perfect mirror of the ice forming in my heart. The next day, I drove to the family home alone. The sprawling estate had been mortgaged and auctioned off when the family went bankrupt. After Justin made his comeback, he’d tried to buy back the house that held all his childhood memories, but the new owner, a notoriously eccentric retired professor, refused to sell. It was me who had shown up at the professor’s door, time and time again, armed with gifts and endless patience. It took me three months of chipping away at his defenses before he finally agreed to sell it back to us at the original price. When Justin’s mother saw me arrive alone, her brow furrowed. “Where’s Justin? Off chasing some nonsense again?” “He had an emergency meeting at the office. He’ll be here later,” I lied, covering for him out of habit. She took my hand, led me to the sofa, and sighed. “Ella, don’t lie to protect him. I’ve heard about what he’s been up to.” A chill went down my spine. “He’s not mixed up with that Amanda girl again, is he?” Her gaze sharpened. “I warned him. I told him that woman is a conniving, restless soul and that he needed to stay far away from her!” I lowered my head, saying nothing. She patted the back of my hand, her voice softening with sympathy. “You poor girl. You’ve been through too much. Don’t you worry. You are the only daughter-in-law the Peterson family will ever recognize. If he dares to do anything to hurt you, I’ll be the first one to break his legs!” A small warmth spread through my chest, and I managed a weak smile. “It’s okay, Mom.” Just as we were speaking, Justin arrived. The moment he saw me, his face darkened, clearly annoyed that I had arrived before him. “Mom, did you call Ella over to tattle on me again?” he snapped, his words laced with venom. His mother, furious, grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at him. “You ungrateful brat, what did you just say? Do you think Ella is that kind of person? If she had breathed a single bad word about you to me, I wouldn’t have let you set foot in this house today!” “Then what’s this about?” Justin grumbled, loosening his tie impatiently. “If she didn’t say anything, how would you know about Amanda?” “You think I needed her to tell me?” his mother scoffed. “You made the woman your personal assistant and paraded her around the office. You might as well have taken out a billboard announcing your affair. Did you think I was blind?” A bitter smile touched my lips. 3 Shortly after he’d stormed out of our house that day, he had, without an ounce of shame, moved Amanda in. Then, he’d given her a position at his company, right by his side. His excuse, delivered with false sincerity, was, “Amanda’s new to the corporate world. It’ll be faster if I’m there to guide her.” Justin’s face flushed, a mixture of green and white. He took a deep breath, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth the fight, and changed the subject. “Amanda is outside. I had her come drop off an urgent file.” Before either of us could react, he turned and opened the front door. Amanda trailed in behind him, dressed in a pristine white dress, the picture of delicate innocence. When she saw Justin’s mother, she flinched like a startled deer and instinctively hid behind him. Justin immediately shielded her. “She’s just here to drop off a file, Mom. Stop looking at her like you want to eat her alive. You’re scaring her.” I stared at him like he was a complete moron. Amanda, for her part, whispered in a voice barely audible, “Mr. Peterson, this is a family dinner. It’s… it’s not right for me to be here. I should probably go.” Her feet, however, remained rooted to the spot. “You must be tired after rushing over. Stay and have dinner with us,” Justin insisted, pulling her into the empty seat beside him. The seat that had been meant for me. The atmosphere at the dinner table plunged into an icy silence. Justin’s mother watched Amanda’s frail, damsel-in-distress act with a smirk of pure disdain. “Miss Remar,” she said, setting down her chopsticks, her voice cutting through the tension. “We’re all women here. You can drop the act.” “The calculations running behind those pretty eyes of yours are as clear as day to me.” Amanda’s face went sheet-white, tears instantly welling. “Mrs. Peterson, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “You don’t?” Justin’s mother let out a dry laugh. “I remember the first time Justin brought you home from college. The moment you walked through that door, your eyes practically devoured the decor. The second you heard the scale of our family business, the greed and ambition were practically written on your face.” Amanda trembled, biting her lip as if trying to hold back a torrent of emotion. That was all it took for Justin. He slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet. “That’s enough!” He glared at his mother, his face contorted with rage. “It’s been years, and you’re still like this! You don’t care about what’s best for me; you just want to control my life!” “You forced us to break up, and it drove Amanda into a crippling depression! Don’t you feel an ounce of guilt? She’s finally getting her life back, and you feel the need to attack her with your vicious words?” “I control you?” His mother was shaking with anger. “If I wanted to control you, I would have never let Ella suffer with you when you lost everything! You ungrateful child, have you forgotten who was there to pull you out of hell?” “I haven’t forgotten!” Justin roared, his eyes bloodshot. “I’ll spend my life repaying my debt to Ella! But that has nothing to do with me making things right with Amanda!” With that, he grabbed the still-trembling Amanda by the arm and stormed toward the door. “Where are you going?” his mother yelled after him. “I can’t stand being in this house another second!” He dragged Amanda out with him, disappearing into the night. He never once looked back at me. It never even crossed his mind to take me with him. “Ella, let him go. Just let the bastard go,” his mother said, her chest heaving with rage. She took my hand. “You’re staying here tonight. I’ll keep you company.” I shook my head and stood up. “Mom, I should go back.” This was between Justin and me. I couldn’t let her burn the bridge with her only son because of me. In the driveway, Justin’s car was still there. He was leaning against the driver’s side door, impatiently scrolling through his phone. He was waiting for me. So, he did remember he’d left me behind. I walked slowly toward him. The streetlights stretched my shadow long and thin across the pavement, making me look desolate and utterly alone. Justin heard my footsteps and looked up. The impatience on his face intensified when he saw it was me. “What took you so long? Let’s go,” he snapped, getting into the driver’s seat. I walked to the passenger side, but before I could open the door, I heard a pained whimper from the back seat. 4 “Justin… I don’t feel so good… I can’t… breathe…” Justin’s expression changed instantly. He twisted around to check on her. “Amanda, what’s wrong?” “I… I think… I’m having an allergic reaction… to peanuts…” she gasped, her voice ragged with pain. Justin’s head whipped back toward me, his eyes blazing with accusation. “Ella! You knew Amanda was allergic to peanuts! Why didn’t you tell the kitchen staff?” His question stunned me into silence. When had I ever known Amanda was allergic to peanuts? Why on earth would I, a guest myself, be responsible for instructing my mother-in-law’s cook about another guest’s dietary needs? Besides, dinner was already on the table when we arrived. “I didn’t know she had a peanut allergy,” I replied coldly. “You didn’t know?” Justin’s voice shot up an octave. “You did this on purpose! You just can’t stand her, can you?” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “So? What are you going to do about it? Are you saying I’m responsible for her allergy attack?” “We’ll let it go this time!” Justin bit out through clenched teeth. “But she’s going to be living with us from now on, so you’d better pay more attention when you’re cooking! I don’t want this happening again!” He expected me to be her personal chef now? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How shameless could this man possibly be? Before I could respond, Amanda let out another agonized groan from the back seat. That sound shattered what little reason Justin had left. “That’s it, we’re going to the hospital!” He started the car, then turned to me, his voice frantic. “Get out!” I stood frozen, staring at him. “You want me to walk home?” We were in a wealthy suburban enclave, miles from the city center. Public transport was nonexistent, and catching a cab at this hour would be impossible. Justin slammed his fist on the steering wheel in frustration. “The hospital is in the opposite direction from our house! I don’t have time to drop you off, Amanda is in a real emergency! Figure it out yourself. It’ll be an inconvenience, I know!” With that, he floored the accelerator, leaving me standing alone in a cloud of acrid exhaust. I stood on the deserted road as a biting night wind swept over me, chilling me to the bone. He’d said it so casually. An inconvenience. Yes. My entire life for the past few years had been one giant inconvenience. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number for his personal driver. “Mark, could you please come pick me up from the family estate?” Ten minutes later, Mark’s car pulled up. He looked surprised to see me alone. “Mrs. Peterson, where’s the boss? I thought you two were having dinner here tonight.” I got in the car, my voice flat. “He had an urgent matter at the office and had to leave early.” Yes, I thought with a cold, internal laugh, an urgent matter involving his little mistress. Not long after I got home, my phone buzzed with a notification. I opened it, and my pupils contracted. It was a photo. Justin was asleep on a hotel bed, shirtless. His tanned skin was covered in the tell-tale red marks of passion, sprawling from his neck down to his chest. Beneath the photo was a taunting message: “Ella, Justin’s not coming home tonight. He said he can only truly relax when he’s with me.” So, the “allergic reaction” and the trip to the hospital were just a cover for them to get a hotel room. Justin. You are truly something else. Expressionless, I screenshotted the photo and the message and sent the entire package to my lawyer. Then, I forwarded it to Justin with a single line of text: [Guess the house wasn’t enough. You had to throw yourself into the deal, too?]. He must have broken the sound barrier getting home. When he burst through the door, his face was a mask of panic and guilt. “Ella, listen to me, it’s not what you think. Amanda and I…” “Shut up,” I cut him off coldly. I had no interest in hearing his pathetic, recycled excuses. He tried to take my hand. “Come on, don’t be like this. It was nothing.” I wrenched my hand away in disgust and stormed into the study, returning with a thick stack of old papers. The debt collection notices. “Justin, look at these!” I pointed at the stack, my voice trembling with suppressed fury. “Do you remember? When your family went bankrupt, I was the one who moved into that sunless basement with you, the one who survived on a single meal a day right alongside you!” “To pay back those millions in debt, I sold every piece of jewelry I owned! I worked in an office during the day and waited tables at night! When you passed out drunk on the street, who carried you home? When your old ‘friends’ humiliated you, who stood in front of you and fought for your dignity? Where was Amanda then?!” By the end, I was screaming through my tears, and I hurled the stack of bills right at his face. “So what are you going to do to repay this debt?!”

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Only when the men saw the village women and children slaughtered by raiders did they believe my warnings. Staring at the mutilated bodies, they erupted in rage. “Captain!” one shouted hoarsely. “You said Olivia was lying—that we should guard you and Sienna for her birthday! Now my son is dead! Where’s my wife?!” Miles turned deathly pale. I watched the bloodshed, tears falling. In my past life, when raiders attacked, my husband—the Island Guard Captain—took all the men to celebrate Sienna’s birthday. Pregnant, I crawled through storm drains to bring them back. But Sienna was killed by a stray raider. After hunting them down, Miles said nothing—until my childbirth. Then he brutalized me and threw me into the sea. “You,” he hissed, “lured the raiders out of jealousy. Since you wanted her fate, I’ll make sure you die like her.” When I woke again, I was back at the raid’s beginning. This time, if he wanted to protect her… let him. … Reborn, I watched the speedboats approach the shore, filled with marauders. A cold shiver ran through me, but I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the alarm. The blaring alarm sirens swiftly echoed across the entire island. But the island’s sole transport vessel, large enough to evacuate all the women and children, was gone. My closest friend stumbled towards me, her voice choked with tears. “Olivia, the raiders are attacking! Where are all the men? The ferry’s gone too. What are we going to do?!” Before I could answer, other women and children swarmed around me, their eyes, wide with helplessness and terror, fixed on me. As the only one who truly knew, I had to tell them. Miles had taken every man and every weapon, sailing the transport vessel out to international waters to celebrate Sienna’s birthday. My mother-in-law cursed wildly, enraged. “Has he gone mad?! He knows raiders could attack Havenport at any moment, and he dared to take every man?!” She spat Sienna’s name like venom. “That manipulative vixen! I always said she was no good! Always feigning weakness, luring men. And now look! Is she trying to get us all killed?!” Her breakdown triggered a switch, and the other women instantly erupted, screaming insults at Sienna for her shamelessness, for luring away their men. As they spoke, the marauders’ speedboats neared the shore, and panic intensified. I struggled to maintain control, telling everyone not to panic, to head for the shelter tunnels. Our island, isolated from the mainland, was frequently targeted by raiders. To protect ourselves, we had built a network of underground bunkers to withstand their assaults. The cramped shelter tunnels were packed with women and children, listening to the marauders’ cruel laughter echoing from above as they searched the island for women. A chilling wave of terror spread through everyone. To save everyone, the only option was to risk crawling through the storm drains that connected to the tunnels, then take a jet ski to get reinforcements. My mother-in-law grabbed my hand, her calloused hand slick with cold sweat. “Olivia, the safety of all the women and children rests on you. You must bring back help!” I managed a bitter smile, my face etched with reluctance. I told her I feared even if I went, Miles wouldn’t come back with me. At my words, a heavy silence fell over everyone. Ever since Miles rescued Sienna and brought her to the island three months ago, he had clung to her like a shadow. Under the guise of ‘caring for her,’ Miles was inseparable from her daily: fishing together, training together. Even the islanders whispered amongst themselves that he and Sienna seemed more like a couple. Yet, far from avoiding suspicion, Miles only grew more overtly intimate with her when faced with their teasing. I had argued with him countless times over this, demanding to know who his wife truly was. But he remained indifferent, instead accusing me of being petty and jealous. Our love had long since evaporated with Sienna’s arrival. Just when everyone was at a loss, Lily, my sister-in-law, stepped forward. “Let me go. I know everyone in the Island Guard, and besides, Olivia’s pregnant. If anything happened to her, I wouldn’t know how to explain it to my brother.” With that, she eagerly plunged into the storm drain, crawling through the damp, filthy pipes to the outside. We huddled in the shelter tunnels, praying in our hearts not to be discovered. But then, a sharp-eyed raider spotted the entrance to the tunnels. “There’s an iron door here! I bet the women are all hiding inside!” “I knew it! How could an island this big not have a single woman?!” “I’ve been adrift at sea for half a year, dreaming of women! This time, I’m going to have my fill!” The thought of the women hidden inside spurred the raiders to frantically smash against the iron door. Listening to the frantic, booming crashes against the door, the women’s faces went ashen. Their hearts pounded with terror, and they could only pray for the men to return quickly and save them. About half an hour later, Lily, my sister-in-law, crawled back up from the storm drain, covered in grime. Seeing her, everyone immediately cheered, believing she had brought the men back. But to their dismay, Lily only began to wipe away her tears, her face etched with distress. “I’m sorry… they wouldn’t come back with me.” My mother-in-law frantically pressed her, “Why wouldn’t they come back? Their wives and children are in here!” At this, Lily’s tears flowed even faster. She bit her lip. “My brother said I was lying. He said there’s no way raiders would suddenly attack our fishing village… He even said Olivia and I conspired to trick him, and he slapped me.” Seeing the red mark on Lily’s face, everyone began to condemn Sienna as a manipulative vixen. They also cursed Miles for dereliction of duty, for abandoning everyone’s safety for the sake of one woman! Just then, a thunderous boom echoed! The raiders had begun using explosives! The iron door to the shelter tunnel could hold for another hour at most. I comforted the women, telling them that the nearest island, Stonewater Isle, was only twenty minutes away, and I could go there for reinforcements. My mother-in-law clutched my arm, her calloused hand slick with cold sweat. “Olivia, the safety of all the women and children rests on you. You must bring back help!” I nodded, then, pushing past the nauseating stench, I crawled through the storm drain, my pregnant belly cumbersome, until I reached the surface. I mounted a spare jet ski and sped towards the nearest island, Stonewater Isle. When my jet ski hit the beach of Stonewater Isle, I found several armed men already waiting. Recognizing them, my eyes widened. It was Deputy Commander Ethan Reed of our Island Guard. Hadn’t he gone out to sea with Miles? Why was he here? I couldn’t dwell on it. I stumbled towards him, just as I was about to inform him about the raiders’ attack. He suddenly grabbed my arm, yanking me from the jet ski, his gaze filled with utter disgust. “Olivia Vance, how can there be a woman as repulsive as you in this world?!” I stared at him, bewildered, unable to comprehend his meaning. “The Captain specifically ordered me to wait for you here. He said that to stir up jealousy, you’d conspire with Lily to spread rumors on other islands about a raider attack on our village, all to sabotage Sienna’s birthday celebration.” Listening to Ethan, I began to tremble with rage. Miles’ heart was utterly ruthless! To prevent me from reaching him, he had sent men to block the very path I would take to get reinforcements! I urgently told Ethan that the marauders had already begun their assault on Havenport. I wasn’t here to spread rumors; I was here for help! If reinforcements weren’t found within the hour to repel the raiders, everyone would be lost! Perhaps seeing my unyielding expression, a flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. After all, his wife, child, and mother were all still on the island. Just as Ethan was about to contact Miles on his comms, a team member leaned in and whispered, “If there really was a raider attack, how could the Captain not know?” His face held a nearly devout trust in Miles. Miles had served in the military, possessing an exceptional tactical instinct and organizational skills. He had led the islanders in repelling dozens of raider assaults. After less than a second of silence, Ethan burst into loud laughter. “Olivia, you truly are an actress. You almost had me believing you.” “I know the Captain better than anyone. He’s so responsible, the leader of the Island Guard. How could he possibly lack this level of vigilance?” His mockery twisted my heart into a bitter knot, tears stinging my eyes. Every wasted moment meant more danger for the women. Ignoring everything, I tried to rush back towards the island. But in the next second, Ethan moved faster, pressing me down. He then produced rope and bound me tightly. “As long as I’m here, you’re not going anywhere today.” Ethan’s face was grim. After ensuring I was securely tied, he tossed me directly into a speedboat. As the boat sliced through the waves, I watched Stonewater Isle, so close yet growing smaller with every passing moment, and I closed my eyes in despair.

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I posted a picture from our family picnic in the parent-teacher chat group. Almost immediately, another mom went on the attack. “Have you no shame? Photoshopping another woman’s husband into your picture? If you’re that delusional, get help. Stop fantasizing about my husband all day!” Before I could even respond, she flooded the chat with a dozen intimate photos of herself and my husband, capping it off with a final, vicious taunt. “Trash like you will never be treasure. A pathetic wannabe who gets off on daydreams can’t even compare to my little finger, and you dare to impersonate me?” I rolled over and kicked my sleeping husband clean out of the bed. “You’ve gotten bold, haven’t you? Keeping a whole other family on the side?” 1 The kindergarten teacher tagged everyone in the parent-teacher WhatsApp group, asking us to share photos of our kids’ weekend activities. I casually sent the photo of the three of us on a picnic and went back to my work. When I checked my phone again, the group chat had exploded. Trevor’s Dad: [I’ve seen it all now. Stealing someone else’s husband for a photo? This is a parents’ group. Don’t you care that your daughter will be a social pariah at school?] Liam’s Mom: [Anna’s Mom, I think you owe everyone an explanation.] My name was being tagged relentlessly. Even the teacher, Ms. Evans, had tagged me directly, demanding I clarify the situation. There were hundreds of messages, too many to scroll through. Completely bewildered, I typed out the question burning in my mind. Me: [What on earth is going on? What do you need me to explain?] The moment my message sent, an account named “Caden’s Mom” fired back. Caden’s Mom: [Oh, playing innocent now, are we? You seemed pretty proud of yourself when you posted that picture.] Caden’s Mom: [What, did you think no one in this group would recognize the financial magnate Ethan Cole?] Caden’s Mom: [Got a little liquid courage and now you think you’re a queen? Messing with me is a death wish. Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to ruin you in this city?] It was so sudden. I’d just posted a family photo. How was I being called a fake? If she knew who Ethan Cole was, and still had the audacity to attack me, I couldn’t tell if she was playing dumb or was genuinely an idiot. I couldn’t resist. Me: [@Caden’s Mom, has it ever occurred to you that Ethan Cole might actually be my husband?] My reply sent her into a rage. She spammed the chat with dozens of intimate photos of herself with my husband. There were even pictures of them in bed. Before I could process it, Caden’s Mom launched into a full-blown tirade. Caden’s Mom: [My husband and I are solid as a rock. Not just any stray can come sniffing around. Your vanity is pathetic, Photoshopping my husband into your sad little life. Do you realize you’ve violated his image rights? I could sue you for this!] The rest of the group, whipped into a frenzy, joined her in condemning me. Parent A: [Anna’s Mom, I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, but is your child’s real father so embarrassing that you have to resort to such cheap tricks?] Parent B: [I’ve never once seen her husband at drop-off. She probably doesn’t even know who the father is. Tried to flex and got called out by the real deal. If I were her, I’d have to move to another planet from the shame.] Parent C: [How disgraceful! With a mother like that, the daughter is probably just the same. I don’t want my child in the same class as hers.] Parent D: [@Ms. Evans, I don’t want my son to be classmates with a child from a family like this.] Other parents echoed the sentiment, demanding my daughter’s expulsion. Parent E: [We expect a satisfactory answer from the principal and the teacher by Monday.] I let out a bitter laugh. I couldn’t believe a simple photo could cause such a firestorm. I tagged Caden’s Mom directly. Me: [You claim to be Ethan Cole’s wife. Do you have any proof? Because I do.] I sent a picture of our marriage certificate. Unfazed, she immediately posted a photo of Ethan’s sleeping face, a profile shot taken in bed. Caden’s Mom: [Wow, you came prepared. Even forged a marriage certificate. But a fake is a fake. It’ll never be the real thing!] I zoomed in on the photo. It was, without a doubt, Ethan. Could he be living a double life? With another child? If that was true, I had no problem cutting him loose and raising my daughter on my own. Caden’s Mom: [Cat got your tongue? You claim to be his wife, but all you have is one photo and a fake certificate?] Parent A: [Mr. Cole should be home by now. Why not take a picture? Let’s see who the real fake is.] The entire group was mocking me. Frustrated but trying to stay calm, I explained. Me: [He’s on a business trip right now. He’s not home.] It was the truth. Ethan had flown to London to open a new market. Before he left, he’d asked what gifts Anna and I wanted. Caden’s Mom: [LOL! I just posted a picture of him sleeping, and you’re claiming he’s on a business trip? You’re killing me!] Parent B: [She doesn’t want to take a picture because she can’t.] Parent C: [@Anna’s Mom, you’re so good at Photoshop, you should have made a few extra pictures. Getting called out by the real Mrs. Cole is just too embarrassing. If I were you, I’d have already left this group out of shame.] Parent D: [Someone who would do this in the first place has no shame. Let’s be real. @Ms. Evans, my only demand is that Anna be expelled immediately. With a mother like that, the child’s character is questionable. My child will not associate with people like that.] 2 I was seething. This Caden’s Mom was a master of twisting the truth. Just as I was about to retaliate with irrefutable proof, our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, burst into the room in a panic. “Ma’am, it’s terrible! Miss Anna has a high fever, and I can’t wake her up!” In that instant, the group chat war meant nothing. I dropped my phone and sprinted to my daughter’s room. Her forehead was burning hot. “Get Arthur to bring the car around! We’re going to the hospital, now!” I yelled, scooping her into my arms. After a series of tests at the hospital, the doctor informed me that we’d arrived just in time. Any later, and the fever would have developed into pneumonia. I thanked him profusely, but he lingered, a hesitant look on his face. “Dr. Miles,” I said, looking up at him, “is there something else?” He hesitated before speaking. “Initially, I was concerned about potential abuse at home, but seeing how worried you are… that doesn’t seem likely.” “What do you mean, Doctor?” “Her fever wasn’t accidental. It was likely caused by prolonged exposure to cold water. And upon closer examination… I found evidence of mistreatment. There are numerous needle marks on her body, all in very hidden places…” “What?!” The world tilted on its axis. I could no longer remain calm. I had assumed it was just a bad fever, but this… this was a nightmare. Someone was hurting my daughter. Behind my back. But Anna was such a sweet, gentle child. Who could do something so monstrous? And she was almost always with me. Who would have the opportunity? Anna was still unconscious. I sat by her bed, watching her flushed face, and a wave of guilt washed over me. I was a terrible mother. How could I not have noticed my daughter was being tormented? If I find out who did this, I will make them pay. The next morning, Anna finally woke up. I stroked her pale cheek, my heart aching. “Anna, sweetie, are you still feeling sick?” She shook her head, ever the good girl. Remembering the doctor’s words, I chose my next words carefully. “Anna, can you tell Mommy… is someone bullying you?” A flicker of panic crossed her face, but she quickly denied it. Seeing her fear, I knew something was terribly wrong. I told her I was going to buy breakfast and returned ten minutes later. She ate quickly, clearly famished. As she ate, I tried a different approach. “Anna, are the teachers at kindergarten nice to you?” At home, I was her primary caregiver. I only left her with Mrs. Gable when work was unavoidable. Besides, Ethan, ever the protective father, had installed security cameras throughout the house years ago. If Mrs. Gable had done anything, I would have known. The only other place was kindergarten. At the mention of her teacher, Anna nodded immediately. “Ms. Evans is very nice. She even braids my hair in pretty styles.” So, it wasn’t the teacher. “What about your friends at school?” I asked gently. “Do you have any good friends? Maybe you could invite one over to play next time.” At this, her face fell. She looked down at her lap, her small body tense with fear. My heart clenched, but I kept my voice soft. “Does my Anna have a secret she doesn’t want to tell Mommy?” She shook her head frantically. “No, it’s not that.” I took her small hand in mine. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. I just want you to know that you are my most precious, most loved little baby, always.” Her expression was a battle of emotions. After a long moment, she whispered, “But he said if I told you, you wouldn’t want me anymore.” A cold fury gripped me. Who had been poisoning my daughter’s mind? I forced myself to remain calm. “Anna, Mommy will never abandon you. You can tell me now. Who hurt you?” Seeing the conviction in my eyes, she finally let the secret tumble out. “It was Caden,” she sobbed, the tears she’d been holding back for days finally streaming down her face. “He… he bullied me. He stuck me with needles, on my back and my bottom. It hurt so much, Mommy…” This fever, too, was his fault. He had pretended to play a water game, but had held her head under the water for a long time, nearly causing her to develop pneumonia. My blood ran cold. I couldn’t imagine how helpless my daughter must have felt. Caden. It was Caden again. First, his mother’s vicious lies in the group chat. Now, this revelation of his cruel bullying. I would make them pay for every single tear my daughter had shed. 3 Anna was sick and traumatized. We stayed in the hospital for several days. But she hated being away from home, so with the doctor’s permission, I arranged for an early discharge. When we arrived home, however, I found our driveway packed with cars. For a moment, I thought I was at the wrong house, but the address on the gate was ours. As I was about to go in, a mocking voice cut through the air. “Well, well, if it isn’t the knock-off Mrs. Cole. What’s the plan today? Snap a few more pictures to Photoshop yourself into the high-society life?” The speaker was another parent from the kindergarten. I’d seen her at drop-off, but she was the arrogant type who never deigned to look at anyone else. I ignored her and tried to enter my own home to see what was going on. She grabbed my arm. “Silent, are we? Cat got your tongue? Let me tell you something, the Cole mansion isn’t a place for any stray dog to wander into. You’re not on the guest list, so get lost before you embarrass yourself further!” She deliberately raised her voice, and just as she intended, the other parents in the yard all turned to look. “Isn’t that Anna’s mom? I don’t think Mrs. Cole invited her.” “Everyone, look! Some people’s skin is thicker than a castle wall. She got called out for being a fake, and now she has the nerve to show up at the real Mrs. Cole’s house! Someone get Mrs. Cole out here to deal with this shameless woman!” A few moments later, Caden’s Mom was summoned. After the other parents breathlessly recounted the situation, she turned to me with a sneer. “Well, look who it is. The imposter who’s been trying to steal my identity.” Her eyes flicked to my daughter. “Your child has been expelled from the class. What are you even doing here?” I frowned. “Who told you my daughter was expelled?” Anna’s sudden illness meant I’d already called the school to inform them of her absence. “Ms. Evans, would you care to explain why you told everyone my daughter was expelled?” I turned to the teacher, who immediately dropped her gaze, her face pale. Caden’s Mom stepped in front of her protectively. “Anna’s Mom, I understand you’re upset, but you can’t threaten the teacher. After your shameless display in the group chat, just having her removed from the class was me being generous. Don’t push your luck.” I almost laughed. I’d seen shameless people, but she was in a league of her own. The other parents rallied around the teacher. “Anna’s Mom, your daughter was expelled because of you. You should be reflecting on your own actions, not digging a deeper hole.” “Exactly! Mrs. Cole is being magnanimous. If it were me, I’d be suing you for defamation!” Buoyed by the support, Caden’s Mom put on a show of generosity. “Oh, let it go. Perhaps she was just confused. Since you’re here, you might as well come in. It’s not like you’ll ever have the chance again.” The other parents showered her with praise for her “kindness.” I couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure this is your house?” She smirked. “If it’s not my house, is it yours?” My daughter, seeing me being bullied, finally had enough. “This is my house!” she cried out. “You’re all mean people! Stop bullying my mommy!” A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. “Like mother, like daughter. Lying at such a young age.” “Thank goodness the school expelled her. I’d hate for her to be a bad influence on my child.” “The apple doesn’t fall far from the rotten tree. That child is ruined.” “Mrs. Cole, why are you even wasting your breath? Just have security throw them out!” They were all determined to crucify me. While I was distracted, the boy, Caden, lunged forward and shoved my daughter hard. “Liar! Get out of my house!” I had been holding back my anger, but my daughter was my breaking point. No one was allowed to hurt her. I grabbed Caden by the collar. “So you’re the one who’s been bullying my daughter at school.” Smack! Smack! I delivered two sharp slaps before anyone could react. Caden, used to being the one in charge, was stunned. The pain hit, and he burst into a loud, wailing cry. His mother, seeing me strike her precious son, lost her mind. She shoved me back, cradling her son protectively. Her eyes were red with fury. “How could you be so vicious?! You’re taking your anger out on my son just because I exposed you?!” The crowd chimed in, accusing me of bullying a child. I laughed coldly. “Today, I’ve learned the true meaning of the guilty accusing the innocent. Your son has repeatedly bullied my daughter at kindergarten. He stuck her with needles. He’s the reason she had a fever so high she almost died from pneumonia. A demon like that doesn’t deserve a slap?” My words stunned the other parents into silence. They probably hadn’t imagined a child Caden’s age could be so cruel. But it was Ms. Evans who rushed forward to defend him. “Anna’s Mom, you’re still lying? At this point, no other kindergarten will ever accept your child.” Her voice was sharp and self-righteous. “Caden is an exemplary student. It’s Anna who has a history of fabrication. I never understood why she wouldn’t change, but seeing you today, I finally understand the meaning of ‘like mother, like daughter.’” She looked at me with disdain. “Anna’s habit of lying is your fault. If you really care about her, you’ll apologize to Mrs. Cole right now. Otherwise, no one can save you.” The crowd murmured in agreement. “I knew it. A woman with Mrs. Cole’s status would raise a perfect child. He would never bully anyone.” “I think she’s just trying to cause a scene because she’s angry she got caught.” “The poor Coles, having to deal with this trash!” My daughter gripped my hand, her voice trembling. “Mommy, I’m not lying… why do they say we’re liars?” Seeing her like this broke my heart. I stroked her hair. “Sweetie, a lie can never become the truth.” When I looked up, my eyes were ice. “Are you aware that trespassing is illegal?”

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The day Natalie’s wealthy family reclaimed her, a convoy of black luxury cars paralyzed our sleepy village. When the butler arrived, she didn’t flinch—as if she’d expected this. But she hesitated when choosing who to take. Clutching our daughter’s hand, she gave me an apologetic glance. “I’ll take Zoe first. I’ll come back for you later.” Her eyes flickered toward the man in the Rolls-Royce. “As for William… my father likes him, so…” She trailed off, waiting. But I already knew. William was her lost love, the man she belonged with. In our years together, Natalie often sighed that I couldn’t discuss astronomy, poetry, or Proust. Yet when I brought her fresh greens or rich broth, she’d reluctantly set aside her books—complaining about mosquitos, muddy floors, laundry. She never knew I could read her letters to “My Dearest William.” So when she spoke, I just nodded and slung my foraging basket over my shoulder. “Your choice,” I said flatly. “I’m picking morels. We’ll talk later.” 1 The village kids came running to our house, shouting the news, just as Natalie was teaching our daughter, Zoe, her penmanship. Zoe’s pen slipped, smudging a dark blot of ink across the page. Natalie’s expression remained serene. “Zoe, what have I told you? Penmanship is about discipline. A quiet mind.” I knew what was coming. She would be reunited with her family, the illustrious McDonough clan, and would soon return to the sprawling metropolis of Veridia. After the family’s initial visit, Natalie remained impossibly poised. She was, after all, the cherished eldest daughter of the McDonoughs. Even after years of amnesia in this backwater village, the grace and dignity etched into her very bones had never faded. And I was even calmer than she was. I went about my business, heading to the mountains to forage as usual. Old Man Hemlock, a village elder, saw me and chuckled. “Leo! About to live the high life in the city with that wife of yours, and you’re still grubbing for mushrooms in the woods?” Natalie had told her family she needed a day to pack, that they should return for her tomorrow. She said she was bringing two people with her. The whole village was green with envy, saying my ancestors must have done something truly spectacular to grant me such luck. They’d all forgotten how, when Natalie first washed up here with no memory and no skills, I was the only one willing to care for her like a lost child. It was a small village. To protect her from the wagging tongues and preserve what was left of her honor, I married her. The “wedding” was nothing more than a few neighbors, a few hard-boiled eggs passed around. And for a time, we were happy. Back then, she was my wife. Only mine. Now she was leaving, and it was only natural that she should take her husband and child. But I knew better. In my previous life, Natalie had indeed taken two people back with her to the McDonough estate. I wasn’t one of them. Remembering this, I just smiled at Old Man Hemlock. “The morels are especially good this season.” Good mushrooms fetched a high price. Enough for me to leave this place and start a new life. 2 When I returned, William was in our small living room, teaching Zoe some basic French phrases. “You have to study hard,” he was saying, his voice smooth and encouraging. “In Veridia, kids your age can already hold a conversation in French.” Zoe was hanging on his every word. William smiled, ruffling her hair. “You’re a quick learner, Zoe. Not like…” Zoe threw her arms around his waist. “It’s all thanks to you, Uncle William! If I was like Dad, who only knows how to talk like a country bumpkin, I’d be so embarrassed when we get there.” Natalie, who had been engrossed in a book, merely glanced up. A soft, approving smile touched her lips. What a warm, picture-perfect family scene. I’d seen this tableau play out for two lifetimes now. William was a local boy, too. But his father was a violent drunk and his mother had died young. An aunt from the city eventually found him and took him in, giving him a proper education. I never understood why he came back to Stonehaven. At first, I was grateful to him. Zoe had been playing near the river, slipped, and it was William who’d pulled her out. But after that, things began to shift. He started visiting our home and saw Natalie. He watched, mesmerized, as she practiced her calligraphy, one hand behind her back, the other guiding the brush with a fluid, elegant grace. Her slender, clean fingers moved with an artist’s confidence. He leaned in close. “Natalie, you’re a woman of culture. Leo is a lucky man.” I didn’t understand the poets and philosophers she and William discussed for hours. With me, she only ever talked about the summer heat or the winter chill. But I understood the mockery in William’s tone. I just stood there, my hands calloused and dirty, feeling like an oaf. Soon, William was at our house every other day. He even convinced Natalie to take a part-time teaching position at the village school. From then on, it was always “Miss Natalie.” Whenever I brought her lunch, I’d find William sitting right beside her. I watched as she carefully ladled the chicken soup I’d simmered all night into his bowl. Zoe would giggle beside them. “Dad, Uncle William loves your cooking the most!” Yes. I worked from dawn till dusk, foraging and trading for the best hens to feed my wife and daughter. I toiled on that barren patch of land behind our house to grow the tenderest greens. I never saved the best for myself. And now, they were using the fruits of my labor to win the affection of another man. In my last life, I’d said as much, right there in front of everyone. Natalie’s brow had furrowed, her lips a thin, tight line. She gave William a slight, apologetic bow. “I’m so sorry, William. My husband is not himself.” As if I had committed some unforgivable sin. Zoe was more direct. “If you won’t let Uncle William have any, then I don’t want any either!” William, acting like the master of the house, wrapped an arm around Zoe. “Zoe, what have I taught you? You mustn’t speak to your father that way.” He then looked at me, not with embarrassment, but with an air of righteous ownership. In that moment, my wife and my daughter made me feel like a complete and utter outcast. A discarded husband. A bitter wave of despair washed over me. William was handsome and well-dressed. I spent my days on the mountainside and in the fields, perpetually covered in a fine layer of dust and sweat. Together, they looked like a family. Just like in my last life, when he went with them to Veridia, no one ever questioned if he was Zoe’s father. At first, Zoe called him “William.” He’d just smiled and said, “Why don’t you call me Uncle?” Only much, much later did I understand his subtle, calculated ambition. 3 Natalie saw me enter the house, my basket heavy on my back, and she subtly stepped away, as if the smell of earth clinging to me was an offense. When her eyes fell on the basket brimming with mushrooms, a flicker of guilt crossed her face. “Why are you still doing this back-breaking work?” she murmured. “We have… we have money now.” The last part was barely a whisper. In my past life, after she left, a sum of money would appear in my account every month. Just enough to survive on in the village. Not enough to ever leave. I didn’t bother explaining. “Habit. Keeps my hands busy.” I set the basket down and picked up a bundle of dried herbs from the table, beginning to mix them for insect-repellent sachets. The herbs lost their potency after a week, and I’d noticed a fresh constellation of red bites on Zoe’s legs. For some reason, the sight didn’t stir the same ache of pity it once did. Zoe saw what I was doing and wrinkled her nose. “Dad, there won’t be any mosquitos in the city. You don’t have to make those smelly things for us.” True. The McDonoughs had never appreciated anything I made. They’d even laughed at me, a man skilled in what they considered a woman’s craft. In my last life, just before their car pulled away, I had rushed to Zoe with red-rimmed eyes, stuffing her arms with everything I could give her. She’d tossed it all out on the road before they even reached the edge of the village. Old Man Hemlock found the sachets and brought them back to me, his eyes a mixture of pity and amusement. I’d assumed it was Natalie’s father who had ordered them thrown away. Later, I scraped together enough money to buy a used smartphone, hoping to stay in touch. But every video call was met with Zoe’s impatience. “I have to go, my riding lesson is starting.” “Uncle William is calling me.” I saved for months, then made the long journey to her private school, just to see her. She saw me. And she ran, sprinting toward a waiting car, terrified I would call out her name and expose her. Watching her small figure flee from me, I finally understood. It wasn’t the scent of the herbs that had faded. It was the love in their hearts. I never tried to see her again. Not until she came of age. By then, years of hard labor had broken my body. The doctor said I didn’t have long. I called Natalie. After a long silence, she just said, “I’ll arrange a hospital for you.” But I didn’t want treatment. I wanted to see my daughter one last time. So I wore my best clothes, got a haircut with the last of my savings, and went to her lavish coming-of-age party. “Zoe,” I’d whispered, my voice raw. “Don’t you remember your father?” She was clinging to William’s arm, and she looked at me with pure disgust. “Who are you? Why are you here, trying to ruin my family?” Natalie stood beside them and said nothing. The cold, calculating pragmatism of the wealthy was on full display. In that glittering ballroom, I was a ghost, a rat scurrying in the corners. I was escorted out, and as I stumbled onto the street, I was hit by a speeding truck. Lying on the pavement, staring up at the indifferent sky, tears slid from the corners of my eyes. Fate had been so cruel. And then, I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day her family came for her. This time, I would not be that pitiable, pathetic fool. 4 So this time, I didn’t plead with them to take the sachets and pillows I’d made. I just spoke with a detached calm. “I know you don’t like them. These are for Amy.” Zoe was visibly confused. Though I could be strict, I had always doted on her, always offered her the best of everything. She pouted. “Amy’s not a good kid. She’s disrespectful to the teacher! Why would you make them for her?” Amy was one of the few children in the village who wasn’t utterly charmed by William. As a result, she was often an outcast at school. In truth, she’d never done anything to disrespect him. She just liked me more. She said I smelled nice. Like herbs and fresh air. A few days ago, I’d seen the welts on Amy’s pale little arms and promised to make her some sachets. What my wife and daughter didn’t value, others would. I continued mixing the herbs, my voice even. “I’ll make them for whomever I please.” Zoe’s face crumpled. “You’re mean! I’m going to find Uncle William! He’s taking me to the county town for a real steak dinner, and he’s going to teach me how to use a proper knife and fork.” Her eyes glinted with a childish challenge. “You’ve never had a steak before, have you, Dad?” I didn’t even look up. “No, never have. You go on.” Her punch had landed on cotton. She couldn’t understand what had changed. Before, I was always jealous of William, always trying to insert myself into whatever he planned with Zoe. For so many years, I believed my child was more important than my wife. In the end, it was Zoe who delivered the final, fatal blow. 5 After Zoe stomped out, a look of hurt confusion on her face, Natalie approached me. “Leo, are you angry with me?” Her voice was soft, placating. “If you’re upset, take it out on me. Don’t involve Zoe.” She sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning. Let’s not make everyone unhappy.” Unhappy? The word felt foreign. In my past life, from the moment they left, joy had ceased to exist for me. And now she had the audacity to say, “Let’s not make everyone unhappy.” That day, just like in my previous life, Natalie’s ailing father had traveled a great distance to see his long-lost daughter. But the moment his eyes landed on me, standing beside her, his face contorted in revulsion. He let out a shrill cry. “Monster! Get that monster away from her!” I froze. I knew I wasn’t much to look at, that her family wouldn’t approve, but I hadn’t expected this. A member of the McDonough entourage sighed and looked at Natalie. “His mind… it hasn’t been right since you disappeared.” Though Natalie’s memory hadn’t returned, the bond of blood was undeniable. A look of deep sorrow crossed her face. What none of us expected, however, was his reaction to William. He reached for him, his expression softening. “Timothy,” he’d whispered, his voice trembling. “You’ve come back.”

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My wife, Vivian Oravec, came home early from her business trip to find me on the sofa with our young nanny. She flew into a rage, screaming and smashing things, then called her family to drag me out and tie me to a tree in the middle of the community courtyard for a public shaming. “Lex Hoult, why would you cheat on me? Don’t I give you what you need?” Vivian sobbed, her accusations echoing for all to hear. Her pet intern, Leo, picked up a branch and began whipping me with it, calling me a scumbag. A few bloody tears escaped my eyes. I gritted my teeth and shot back, “Doesn’t this feel familiar, Vivian? A lot like the day Tilly died?” Vivian froze. “Your memory… it’s back?” … “Lex Hoult!” “Our daughter has only been gone a month, and you’re already bringing another woman into our home! Have you no shame?” Vivian’s eyes were red with fury as she screamed at me. I slowly lit a cigarette, my voice calm. “You could cheat too, you know. I wouldn’t mind.” “Don’t act so high and mighty,” I added, my tone laced with contempt. “You’re never home anyway. For all I know, you’ve been screwing around for years.” Beside me, the young nanny pulled on a pair of sexy, black silk stockings and chimed in, “He’s got a point.” Her comment made me chuckle. That sent Vivian over the edge. She lunged, aiming a slap at the nanny, but I caught her wrist in a vice grip, allowing the nanny to slip away. “Lex! You’re defending an outsider against me? You bastard! You cheating bastard!” Vivian stared at me in disbelief, her fists raining down on my chest in a wild, frantic flurry. “Stop acting crazy!” I shoved her away, my patience worn thin. At that exact moment, her intern, Leo, arrived with her entire family in tow. Seeing Vivian crumpled on the floor in front of the sofa, they all saw red. Leo stormed over and grabbed my collar. “Lex Hoult!” he roared, spittle flying in my face. “Not only do you cheat on your wife, you hit her too? What kind of man are you? Is this how you honor your daughter’s memory?” “You have no right to mention my daughter!” My own anger flared. I threw a punch, sending him staggering backward. Vivian scrambled to her feet. “Are you some kind of rabid dog, biting everyone you see? Why did you hit Leo?” Seeing that I was not only unrepentant but defiant, her family’s eyes practically shot flames. “My daughter gave you everything!” her mother shrieked. “She didn’t care that you were some poor kid from the sticks with no car and no house! She married you anyway!” “How could you betray her like this?” her father bellowed. “We never should have been soft on you! We should have let you kneel in the rain until you died before we ever agreed to this marriage!” “Today, I’m going to let everyone see you for the pathetic trash you are! And I’ll make sure you never work in the medical field again!” Led by Vivian’s parents, her whole clan—aunts, uncles, cousins—descended on me. I was hopelessly outnumbered, trussed up like a pig for slaughter, and carried to the center of the courtyard. They tied me to a large oak tree and stripped me down to my boxers. “Come and see the cheating, wife-beating scumbag!” one of her aunts screamed. “Someone, please, judge for yourself! My poor niece, dedicating her life to her family, only to have her husband fool around with the nanny!” “This animal was in our home, in front of his own daughter’s memorial photo, making out with the help! It’s an unforgivable sin!” Vivian’s family wailed and shouted, drawing a large crowd of residents from the surrounding apartment buildings. As the story spread, their eyes filled with disgust, and a chorus of insults rained down on me. I was inhuman. I deserved to die. “After your car accident, Vivian stayed by your bedside day and night! That was just a few weeks ago! Where is your conscience?” “You can’t even keep it in your pants, you son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” Vivian’s parents took turns slapping me across the face. The crowd, emboldened, joined in. Some spat on me. Others threw clumps of dirt and small stones. I was a mess of filth and humiliation. Through her tears, Vivian demanded, “Lex, tell me! Why did you cheat?” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “You know damn well why.” “Was it because I couldn’t satisfy you? That whole drawer of lingerie… I bought all of it for you! What more could you possibly want?” she shrieked, her voice cracking with near-hysterical grief. Her words hung in the air. A thousand murderous glares focused on me, burning with righteous fury. “Vivian, this bastard is beyond saving,” Leo said, wiping a tear from her cheek before picking up a thick branch from the ground. He turned and whipped it across my body. “You worthless scumbag!” Again and again, the branch struck, leaving bloody welts across my skin. The crowd cheered. Vivian’s family urged him on, yelling for him to hit me harder, to not let me off easy. Only Vivian herself finally stopped him. “Lex,” she said, her voice trembling, “we’ve been together for ten years. It hasn’t been easy.” “If you admit you were wrong and promise, in front of everyone, to change, I’ll give you one more chance.” The crowd murmured their approval, marveling at Vivian’s kindness, clucking about how such a beautiful flower was wasted on a pile of manure. “Admit I was wrong?” I ground my teeth together, the sound a low, dangerous growl. “Vivian, doesn’t this whole scene feel familiar? A lot like the day our daughter, Tilly, died?” Vivian’s pupils contracted into pinpricks. “Your memory… it’s back?” Seeing the shock on her face, I pressed on, my voice rising. “It was a hundred degrees out, and Tilly was surrounded by a mob, all of them pointing and screaming at her.” “And your precious, favored intern, Leo, instead of helping her, he locked her in a dog cage to ‘teach her a lesson.’” “Do you have any idea how hard she cried, Vivian?” Vivian’s fists clenched at her sides. She bit her lip, her voice a low, defensive murmur. “Leo didn’t mean for it to happen.” Her words were a knife in my heart. A few tears, thick and red with blood, slid from the corners of my eyes. “Vivian! Tilly was your daughter! Your own flesh and blood! How can you be so heartless?” “She begged for a sip of water, but no one would give her any. The sun baked her skin until it peeled, and her lips were so cracked they bled.” “When you saw her body… didn’t you feel anything?” My accusations hung in the hot, still air. Vivian was trembling, and beside her, Leo looked tense. The crowd began to shift, their gazes turning from me to them, a strange new suspicion dawning in their eyes. “Her own daughter was killed by her intern, and she keeps him around? Is she crazy?” “I bet they’re having an affair.” “No wonder the husband cheated. He must have been completely heartbroken.” Even Vivian’s mother was staring at her now. “Vivian, you told us Tilly’s death was an accident. Leo, what really happened?” Her father’s glare was fixed on Leo, demanding an explanation. “It was all my fault…” Leo slapped himself across the face, his voice choked with fake sobs. “I took Tilly out to play that day. I just turned my back for a second to buy some water, and she was gone.” “Later, I found out she’d run into a bakery and tried to steal some bread. The owner caught her, threw her in a cage, and put her on the roof to punish her.” “Vivian was in surgery, and I tried calling and texting Lex, but he never answered.” “I’m so sorry. I failed to protect her. I should be the one who’s dead!” He started slapping himself again, harder this time. “Stop it, don’t do that.” Vivian rushed to his side, her voice filled with a pained tenderness. “I never got any calls or messages from you,” I said, my voice hoarse. “You killed my daughter…” Before I could finish, Vivian spun around and slapped me. “How many times do I have to tell you? It had nothing to do with Leo! It was the bakery owner, and there’s a warrant out for his arrest.” “Besides,” she added, her voice dripping with accusation, “if you hadn’t been starving Tilly, would she have needed to steal bread in the first place?” I stared at her, stunned. “You’re her mother. Don’t you know your own daughter? Do you really think she was a thief?” “Don’t you know how much she adored me?” Vivian was a busy surgeon, often tied up in operations for hours. I had quit my own job at the hospital to be a full-time father to Tilly. If she had been malnourished, it would have been obvious. More than that, Tilly was a sweet, gentle soul. She would have starved before she stole. Vivian was silent. But Leo stepped forward, his voice ringing with righteous indignation. “Stop making excuses, Lex! I checked with her preschool. The teachers said Tilly fainted several times, but she was always fine after a little snack and a drink.” “And I have video proof!” He pulled out his phone and played a clip for the crowd. It showed a teacher leading a group of children in a game. Suddenly, Tilly collapsed. “I have dozens of videos just like this one! What do you have to say for yourself now, Lex?” Leo’s voice was cold and triumphant. “You son of a bitch! You didn’t feed your own daughter? What kind of father are you?” “My poor granddaughter must have been starving to steal that bread! It’s all your fault, you irresponsible bastard!” Vivian’s parents lunged at me again, hitting and screaming. Their relatives followed suit. The crowd cheered them on, their anger reignited, wishing they could strangle me on the spot. Vivian looked at me, her eyes filled with disappointment. “Leo was trying to protect you. He didn’t release these videos out of respect for me.” “And you? You repay his kindness by trying to frame him!” “Wasn’t killing Tilly enough for you? Now you want to destroy Leo too? When did you become so evil?” Her self-righteous questions were a physical blow. I let out a bitter, tear-filled laugh. “Vivian, just because you see something with your own eyes doesn’t make it the truth.” “If I told you Tilly had hypoglycemia, would you believe me?” Vivian froze for a second. But Leo just sneered. “Are you going to use that to claim you didn’t cheat? That what Vivian saw was just an illusion?” “Using your dead daughter like this… you’re truly disgusting!” His words hit their mark. Vivian’s face hardened. “Lex, not only am I Tilly’s mother, I’m also a doctor. Don’t you think I would know if she had hypoglycemia?” “Don’t try to twist the facts to excuse your affair!” Her parents and the rest of her family started screaming at me again, calling me an animal. Through the storm of insults, I kept my eyes locked on Vivian. “I didn’t cheat on you! You and Leo set me up!” “Bullshit!” Leo shot back immediately. “You were caught red-handed, and you’re still denying it? Have you no shame?” “You’re still spouting lies! I’ll shut your mouth for you!” Vivian’s father took off his shoe and started beating me across the face with it, splitting my lip. But my resolve didn’t waver. My voice was cold and steady. “In a little while, I’ll be able to prove my innocence. But some people… might not be so lucky.” My gaze, filled with pure hatred, shifted between Leo and Vivian. “Enough!” Vivian snapped, planting a hand on her hip. “Do you really think anyone is going to believe your empty words? Do you take us all for three-year-olds?” “I’m telling you right now,” she declared, “you will stay tied to this tree until you admit you’re wrong. Otherwise, you can bake in the sun all day!” I said nothing. The crowd muttered that I was stubborn, that I was a lost cause. The temperature was well over a hundred degrees. Under the relentless sun, I felt like I was being roasted on a spit, burning from the inside out. Sweat soaked my clothes, evaporating almost as soon as it appeared. Dehydration made my mouth dry, my lips crack, and my head spin. I thought of my daughter. She had died in this same heat, alone on a rooftop, her cries for help unanswered. Her small life had faded away, bit by bit, until she died of dehydration. She must have been so scared, so desperate. She must have been hoping that her mommy and daddy would suddenly appear, like superheroes, with a bottle of water and a popsicle. “I’ve got watermelon, popsicles, and all kinds of cold drinks! Free for everyone!” Leo’s cheerful shout broke through my haze. He had arranged for a truckload of watermelon and three mobile freezers to be brought to the courtyard, offering refreshments to the crowd. “Leo, you’re so thoughtful,” Vivian said, a happy smile gracing her lips as she took a cold drink from him. “It’s the least I can do,” he replied with a modest smile, before distributing drinks and popsicles to her family. “What a fine young man!” her parents gushed. “Puts a certain scumbag to shame!” The crowd nodded in agreement. The sight of it all made me sick. Leo sauntered over to me, holding a popsicle. He lowered his voice, a cruel sneer on his face. “Hot? Thirsty?” “Call me ‘Daddy,’ and I’ll let you have it. Otherwise, you can end up just like your daughter—a dried-up piece of jerky.” “You should have seen her,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming. “So pathetic. I recorded the whole thing. I watch it every night…” A primal rage exploded within me. I spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm in his face. “You… monster!” Seeing the commotion, Vivian rushed over. She saw the blood on Leo’s face and immediately turned on me. “Lex Hoult!” “Leo was kind enough to offer you a popsicle, and you repay him like this? You ungrateful dog!” “I must have been blind to ever have fallen for a piece of filth like you!” Still not satisfied, she raised her hand to slap me. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself!” A sharp, female voice cut through the air. Everyone turned to look. It was the nanny. She had returned, and behind her were two police officers. They immediately started to untie me. Vivian’s fury erupted. “You! You have the nerve to come back here, you little homewrecker!” “I’ve seen shameless, but this is a new level,” Leo sneered. “Being a mistress and then calling the cops? Pathetic.” Vivian’s family clenched their fists, looking like they wanted to tear the nanny to pieces. “Talk is cheap, isn’t it?” the nanny said, her voice cool. “What proof do you have that I’m a mistress?” “I… I saw you with my own two eyes!” Vivian spat, her teeth clenched. “So, you have no actual proof?” The nanny’s lips curved into a slight smile. She turned to the police. “Vivian Oravec and Leo Croft have falsely accused me of being a mistress, and they have intentionally harmed Lex Hoult.” “Please, arrest them.” Hearing her words, I, the one who had willingly walked into this trap, allowed myself a small smile. The show… was just getting started. Leo panicked. “You little tramp! How dare you make false accusations! You really are shameless!” “You’re so proud of being a mistress you have to flaunt it?” Vivian frowned and looked at me. “Lex, if you have any decency left, you’ll admit what you did!” I took a sip of the cold drink the nanny handed me. “I’m innocent. Why should I admit to something I didn’t do?” “If you think I cheated, then show me the proof.” Her face contorted with rage. She threw her popsicle to the ground. “I saw you! On the sofa! All over each other!” Her father stepped forward. “Officer, my daughter has always been a good, honest girl. She would never lie. The only reason we punished Lex Hoult is because he cheated first!” Her family all nodded in agreement. “Hearsay is not evidence,” one of the officers said sternly. “We need proof. Otherwise, you can be held legally responsible for false imprisonment, defamation, and assault.” “That’s right!” the nanny chimed in. “The burden of proof is on the accuser!” Vivian’s father turned to her. “Well? Show them the proof! Show this disgusting pair for what they are!” “I… I… I was in such a state, I didn’t think to take a picture or a video,” Vivian stammered. The crowd stared, a collective sense of being duped settling over them. Their gazes on Vivian and Leo began to shift, growing strange and suspicious. “You may not have proof,” the nanny said with a smile, “but I do.” She took out her phone and played a recording. “Vivian wants me to find a way to take Lex down a peg, so I’m planning on framing him for cheating with the nanny. I’ll need you to help me buy some bots to get it trending online.” The voice was Leo’s. All eyes, including Vivian’s, turned to him in shock.

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I was born with a wicked heart. As the true heiress to the Brandon fortune, I was brought back to the family estate at fourteen. And while I was busy plotting 108 different ways to ruin Celine Croft, the girl who had taken my place, she became the only person in that cold, cavernous house who genuinely protected me. She called herself my knight and I her beautiful princess. A knight’s sole duty, she would say, was to guard her princess. I scoffed at her naive sentimentality, told her it was useless in a world like ours. Yet, she was the one who helped me seize control of the Brandon Corporation, who guided my hand as I became the head of the country’s largest conglomerate. She even helped me find true love and was there to witness my happiness. Once her “mission” was complete, Celine didn’t return to her old life. Instead, she married a man who promised to love her for a lifetime. But the next time I returned from a business trip abroad, I was met with the news of her death. One body, two lives lost. I rushed back, only to be confronted with her shattered, unrecognizable remains. My sister was dead. And I was finally, gloriously, mad. The darkness I’d kept locked away for so long was finally free. Everyone who had ever hurt her would pay. Chapter 1 “Sera, I’m so sorry. I can’t protect you anymore.” In the hospital security footage my assistant sent me, Celine, her hair matted and her face hollow, whispered those words to the empty air before turning and leaping from the 18th-floor window of her hospital room. No hesitation. Only pure, bottomless despair. My entire body trembled with a rage so profound it felt like an earthquake in my soul. My Celine was obsessed with beauty, always dressed to perfection. She’d pout for half a day if I so much as messed up her hair. There was no way she would have chosen to die like this, to end her life in such a brutal, mangled mess. I stormed out of the car and sprinted toward the surgical wing. The darkness I had buried so deep within me clawed its way to the surface, growing wild and untamed. The operation was over. Inside the cold, sterile room, a white sheet covered the broken, blood-soaked thing that was once my sister. “Ethan, my love, don’t be so sad. Celine loved you so much. She wouldn’t be able to rest in peace if she saw you like this.” My steps faltered. Standing next to my grieving brother-in-law was a woman in a pristine white dress, her face pretty and demure. Her hand was holding that of my six-year-old nephew. Little Hugo’s face showed no trace of sadness. Instead, he looked at the sheet-covered form with disgust. “That nasty woman is so annoying. Why’d she have to die today, when Dad and Hayley-mommy were taking me to the toy store? Now I didn’t even get my new car.” The woman, Hayley, wrapped her arms around the boy, her smile impossibly gentle. “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy and I will take you to get the best toy car in a few days, alright?” “Okay! I love you most, Hayley-mommy!” Hugo’s face brightened, and he threw his arms around her neck, planting a kiss on her cheek. In that instant, I understood everything. I knew why my Celine had leaped to her death without a second thought. I stepped into the room. “The body isn’t even cold, and the mistress is already trying to take her place?” The woman’s face stiffened for a moment before she squeezed out a practiced, pleasant smile and walked toward me. “You must be Seraphina. Ethan has told me so much about you.” She stood before me, a victor striking a pose, her eyes screaming a silent taunt: So what if your sister was the high-and-mighty Brandon heiress? In the end, she still lost to me. I let out a cold laugh. My hand flew, the crack of my palm against her cheek echoing in the sterile room. “I, Seraphina Brandon, have only one sister, and her name is Celine. What the hell are you?” The woman shrieked and crumpled to the floor. Little Hugo balled his fists and charged at me. “You bullied my Hayley-mommy! You’re a nasty woman too! I’m gonna kill you!” My gaze, cold as the grave, fell upon him. He flinched, shrinking back to hide behind his father, Ethan. And Ethan… he just stood there, his face a dead, empty mask, his eyes fixed on the body on the bed. As if he couldn’t see or hear a thing. Hayley bit her lip, but her smile quickly returned. Her act was flawless. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Brandon. Ethan and I grew up together, we’re like family. I just assumed…” She bowed her head. “I’m so sorry. I was out of line. It won’t happen again.” She looked so wronged, so innocent in her apology, making me out to be the cruel, domineering bully. No wonder my sister met such a tragic end. Her kind, sincere heart was no match for a two-faced bitch like this. I’d heard whispers that Ethan had a childhood sweetheart who had gone to study abroad. Now, here she was, the woman who had driven my sister to her death, daring to stand before me. 2 “Hayley, what happened to your face?” A familiar voice came from behind me. It was my husband, Sebastian. But he walked right past me as if I were invisible, rushing to Hayley’s side. He gently cupped her cheek, his face a mask of concern. “Who did this? Hayley, you tell me who dared to touch you, and I swear I’ll make them regret it.” My eyes grew colder still. I’d almost forgotten. He and Ethan had grown up together. Which meant he and Hayley were also childhood friends. Hayley’s triumphant smirk deepened as she shot a provocative glance in my direction. “Sebastian, please, don’t blame Sera. Her sister just died. It’s understandable that she’s upset.” Sebastian finally turned and saw me. His eyes widened in panic, and he quickly snatched his hand back. “Honey, you’re back! Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up.” I sneered. Right in front of him, I swung my hand again, striking the other side of Hayley’s face. She stumbled, falling dramatically into Sebastian’s arms, revealing the fresh, red imprint of my hand. Sebastian stared at me, shocked. He instinctively tightened his hold on Hayley and roared at me, “Seraphina, what is wrong with you? Your sister killed herself! Why are you taking it out on Hayley?” Hayley clutched her face, tears welling in her eyes. “It’s okay, Sebastian, really. If it makes her feel better, she can hit me a few more times. I can take it.” “Then I’ll be happy to oblige.” I lunged forward, grabbing the collar of Hayley’s dress and yanking her toward me. Sebastian tried to intervene, but my bodyguards stepped in, blocking his path. I slapped Hayley so hard she fell to the ground, then I pinned her hand with my foot and wrapped my fingers around her throat. “If you can’t remember your place, allow me to remind you. The Brandon family has two daughters, and both of them have dignity. We don’t have room for a shameless homewrecker like you.” “You drove my sister to her death. None of you are getting away with this.” A vein throbbed in Sebastian’s forehead. “Seraphina! You’re the heiress of the Brandon family! How can you say something so venomous?” I turned my head, my voice dripping with disdain. “What, does it hurt your little heart? Are you in love with her too?” Sebastian’s face went pale. He quickly held up three fingers. “I swear, honey. I only love you.” I turned my gaze back to Hayley. As I did, my eyes caught a glint of something from inside her collar. I reached down and pulled it out. It was a necklace. A Twin Stars necklace. It was the one I had personally designed, commissioned from a world-renowned master jeweler, and given to Celine for her birthday. And now, it was around Hayley’s neck. A white-hot fury erupted inside me. I ripped the necklace from her throat. My nails raked across her skin, drawing blood. I looked down at her, the urge to kill consuming me. “Her things… you’re not worthy to even touch them.” Hayley screamed, clutching her bleeding neck, her tears flowing like a river. It was a pathetic, heart-wrenching sight. I’m sure even my sister, had she seen it, would have felt a pang of pity. After all, Celine always cried whenever she remembered the days I was locked in that pigsty. But her kindness… her beautiful kindness had been trampled into the mud by these people. Seeing Hayley’s state, little Hugo rushed out from behind Ethan, throwing his arms around her, his eyes red. “Hayley-mommy, does it hurt?” Hayley shook her head. “It’s okay, sweetie. As long as it makes your auntie feel a little better, it doesn’t hurt.” Hugo glared at me, his eyes burning with a murderous hatred. “I don’t want that ugly woman as my mom, and this mean lady isn’t my auntie!” He pointed at the necklace in my hand. “I gave that necklace to Hayley-mommy! That other woman was lazy and ugly! She was only good enough to be our maid! She didn’t deserve to wear something so beautiful.” “Hayley-mommy is different. She’s young and pretty, and she deserves the best of everything.” What a touching scene of motherly love and filial piety. It made me want to vomit. Hugo actually lunged at me, trying to snatch the necklace from my hand. An icy chill washed over me. I kicked him away. He hit the floor and started wailing. The others stared, their faces pale, probably shocked that I would be so ruthless with Celine’s own son. But if it weren’t for Celine, I wouldn’t have given the entire Ethan family a second glance. “You little bastard. You’re not worthy of being my sister’s son.” “Say one more word, and I’ll end you right here, right now.” Hugo was so terrified he stopped crying, his eyes wide with fear as he watched me walk toward the cold, still body. I lifted the white sheet. I looked at the broken form on the bed, and a sob escaped my throat. “Celine. I’m here. I’m taking you home.” 3 Just like you once took me home. I was the Brandon family’s long-lost daughter. At seven, I was kidnapped by traffickers and sold to a remote, impoverished village. They kept me in a pen by the pigsty. The stench was unbearable. Filthy water seeped into my clothes. They didn’t feed me. To survive, I fought the pigs for their slop. When it was cold, my only option was to huddle amongst the pigs for warmth. I was no different from the livestock, just waiting to be old enough to be sold off. When I was fourteen, the traffickers took two hundred dollars from a sixty-year-old lech. I knew my life was over. I went with him, my only plan to wait for nightfall, find a butcher knife, and take everyone down with me. Just as the old man was dragging me away, Celine appeared. She was wearing a beautiful princess dress, a glittering tiara on her head, and she charged toward the pigsty. She shoved the old man aside and shielded me with her body. My own parents stood at a distance, holding their noses, their brows furrowed in disgust. They took another involuntary step back. The way they looked at me… it was the same way they looked at the pigs: filthy, but a necessary burden. I was taken back to the Brandon estate. My parents left immediately without a second glance. Only Celine stayed. She held me and cried for what felt like an eternity. “I’m so sorry. I should have found you sooner. You’ve suffered so much.” “You’re the heroine of this story, Sera. You’re meant to live a dazzling life.” “Don’t worry. From now on, I will protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” The image of my parents finding me by the pigsty, tears streaming down their faces, was plastered across the front page of every newspaper. They were lauded as the most loving parents in the country. But at school, I became a laughingstock. The photos of me, covered in filth, surrounded by flies and mosquitoes, were scattered all over campus. The images drove me into a frenzy. I lost control. I grabbed a chair and beat everyone until they were bloody. My parents were called to the principal’s office. Without a word of explanation, they slapped me twice. “Apologize.” I didn’t move. They were furious. “Seraphina,” my mother screamed, “I regret ever bringing you back! You should have died in that pigsty!” My father grabbed a vase from the desk and swung it. It was meant for my head, but it landed on Celine’s. She clutched her head and shouted, “Sera did nothing wrong! They should be the ones apologizing!” Somehow, she got her hands on the security footage from the classroom. It showed the group of them pushing me to the ground, forcing me to crawl and oink like a pig. They threw food on the floor and made me eat it. My mother remained unmoved. “Why don’t they bully anyone else? They only bully you. Is it because you’re not clean? Are you disrupting the other students?” My father just waved his hand dismissively. “It’s a trivial matter. Let’s just drop it.” But Celine fought for me. In the end, I got my apology. Later, I asked her why she was so good to me. She said a knight must protect her princess, and I was her princess. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll go crazy and kill you too?” “No!” She told me she wouldn’t let me ruin my life by killing a bunch of worthless animals. That’s when she told me her secret. She was a traveler, she said. She had read my story. She knew I was on a path to destroy everyone, including myself. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?” She hugged me tightly and shook her head. “No. I love you more than anyone, Sera.” Tears streamed down her face, her voice choked with emotion. “Sera, it’s not worth throwing your life away for a bunch of scum.” She told me my future was bright, brilliant. Whenever I faced difficulties or danger, she was always there. With her help, I reached the pinnacle of power. I even married Sebastian, a man who, I believed, had eyes and a heart only for me. She was supposed to leave after that, but she fell in love with Sebastian’s best friend, Ethan, and married into his family. I was happy because it meant she would stay. But I was also worried. I had heard the stories about Ethan and Hayley. Ethan swore to me, time and time again, that he would only ever love Celine. Seeing the joy on her face, I allowed myself to believe that we would both have our happy endings. But the joy she felt then was matched only by the despair she must have felt when she died. 4 “No one is taking Celine!” A desperate cry pulled me back to the present. Seeing the orderlies about to take the body, Ethan finally snapped out of his stupor. He wept, shoving past my bodyguards to cradle Celine’s body. “She’s my wife! I love her! What right do you have to take her from me?” The bodyguards hesitated. After all, Ethan was Sebastian’s best friend, and Sebastian was my husband. They were reluctant to use force. But I wasn’t. Besides Celine, I didn’t care about anything or anyone. I took the fountain pen from my bag, my eyes fixed on Ethan’s neck, and strode toward him. Just as I was about to plunge it into his throat, Hayley threw herself in front of him, taking the blow in her back. Blood spurted out, instantly staining her white dress crimson. Sebastian rushed over and shoved me, hard. “Seraphina, you’ve really lost your mind.” I stumbled backward, my head slamming against the wall. As the world spun, I saw Sebastian sweep Hayley up into his arms in a princess carry, rushing out of the room, frantically shouting for a doctor. When I woke up, I was in a hospital room, my bodyguards my only company. I walked to Hayley’s private VIP suite. “I’m so sorry, Hayley. Sera… she was locked in a pigsty as a child. Her emotions are… fragile. When she wakes up, I’ll have her apologize to you immediately.” I listened to the man who swore he loved me, my hands clenching into fists. “It’s my fault for worrying about you so much. It must have triggered her. I’m sorry.” As he spoke, Sebastian blew on a spoonful of porridge to cool it before feeding it to Hayley. “And you, Ethan,” Sebastian said, turning to his friend. “How could you not keep a better eye on Celine?” Ethan clutched Hayley’s hand, his head bowed. “Hayley’s always been delicate. I just locked Celine up for a few days so Hayley could get a blood transfusion. My son and I tried to reason with her. Who knew she’d kill herself over something so trivial?” “Trivial? Are you aware that a video of you and Hayley in a hotel room was sent to her phone?” Ethan looked up, shocked. “How? I was so careful.” A bitter smile twisted his lips. “Why was she so damn petty? I just made a mistake that every man makes. But she was the one I loved most.” “By the way, Sebastian, does Seraphina know about this?” “If she knew, do you think you’d be sitting here right now? I’ve already had someone destroy the video on Celine’s phone. Don’t worry.” “Sebastian, thank you.” “If it wasn’t for Hayley, I would never have helped you lie to Sera.” My nails dug into my palms. My stomach churned with a nausea so profound I thought I would be sick. Hayley started to sob softly. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I’ve made things so difficult for you both.” “Silly girl, it’s not your fault.” “But… what if Sera is angry with you? Will the Brandon and Sterling families be alright?” Sebastian laughed. “Sera loves me. She can’t live without me. I can smooth things over with a few sweet words.” Tears fell from my eyes, but I was smiling. So, Sebastian knew everything. He was an accomplice to my sister’s murder. Good. Now, I had nothing left to hold me back. All of you… you’re all going to die.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393825”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was eating fries from a late-night food truck when I ran into him—a trust-fund kid I knew in school. His eyes widened. “Thea? Damn, you really hold a grudge. Took you long enough to come back to Chris.” Chris—my first love, the son of my mother’s employers. We were supposed to study abroad together. But at our graduation party, someone drugged him. I rushed to help, but in his haze, he suddenly became lucid and threw me, half-dressed, out of the room. He called me a desperate social climber. Overnight, I became a “gold digger.” The malice suffocated me, so I left with my mom for two years. Now, he pulled out his phone. “Chris has been looking for you like a madman. Just apologize—couples fight and make up.” I laughed, resting a hand on my pregnant belly. “My baby’s due in three months. What’s there to ‘make up’ for?” 1 This guy—let’s call him Carter—had been Chris’s best friend since they were in diapers. He’d had a front-row seat to my entire history with Chris, from our shy beginnings to the fiery end. He fumbled with his phone, hastily ending the call. For a long moment, he just stared at my stomach, his voice a lost whisper when he finally spoke. “Oh, shit. It’s over. It’s really, truly over. You… you got pregnant by someone else?” I’d snuck out tonight for a craving, not a reunion. I had no intention of strolling down memory lane with him, so I turned to leave. But he rushed to block my path, his face a mask of undisguised panic. “Thea, listen to me! Chris is even richer now than he was when you two broke up!” he said, his voice urgent. “He’s Northwood’s most eligible bachelor, for Christ’s sake. He even said that if you came back, he’d marry you. No prenup, nothing.” His passionate pitch began to falter as he took in my complete lack of expression. Still, he pressed on, a last, desperate attempt. “Look… what if you just… get rid of the baby? I’ll pretend I never saw you tonight. We can fix this.” My gaze turned to ice. “You and Chris both need therapy,” I said, my voice dripping with scorn. “Why don’t you go get some instead of spewing your toxic bullshit all over the street?” His face flushed a deep, blotchy red, and he pointed a trembling finger at me, sputtering, unable to form a single word. I was already a good distance away when I heard him shout at my back. “Thea, who the hell are you pretending to be? Weren’t you the one who was desperate to climb into his bed in the first place?” Climbing into his bed. That label had been stuck to me since the day Chris and I started dating. It made sense, in their world. He was the heir to a city-wide fortune, and my mother was just a live-in housekeeper in his family’s mansion. The rich boy and the housekeeper’s daughter. It was a story that just didn’t add up. But Chris’s love had been loud, passionate, and undeniable. So, they whispered that I must have used some dirty tricks, that I’d seduced him, this poor, naive boy, into falling for the help’s daughter. Back then, I was young and proud. My pride was my world. All I knew was that I loved Chris, and he loved me. So, I clenched my jaw and vowed to prove them all wrong. I would work my ass off until everyone agreed that Thea, just Thea, was worthy of Chris Johnston. I refused the supplementary credit card he offered me. I never used his connections to pad my own resume. From eighteen to twenty-two, our relationship, the one nobody believed in, lasted four whole years. I thought we would have so many more. Until our graduation year. A daughter of a close family friend of the Johnstons came to stay with them for the summer. Her name was Vivian. Vivian was a true heiress, born and bred in a world of privilege. She played the harp, was a champion equestrian, and could breakdance. She was radiant and dazzling—everything I was and everything I wasn’t. People started dropping hints, sometimes casually, sometimes with pointed intent, about an old, unofficial arrangement between the Johnston and Croft families. A childhood betrothal. Vivian’s summer in Northwood, they implied, was really about sealing the deal. My anxiety gnawed at me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I decided to find Chris at the stables. Every Saturday afternoon, he’d ride to clear his head. But for the first time, when I got there, he wasn’t riding. He was leaning against the fence, a relaxed, easy smile on his face as he watched the center of the ring. His eyes were shining. I followed his gaze. There was Vivian, dressed in impeccable riding gear, confidently commanding her horse, a riding crop held loosely in her hand. I watched her for a moment, mesmerized, then turned back to Chris. He hadn’t noticed me. His entire world was focused on the girl in the ring. My simmering unease boiled over into full-blown panic. I finally managed to call his name. He started, then a wide grin broke across his face as he grabbed my hand, excitedly telling me how incredible Vivian’s riding skills were. Finally, he asked, “Thea, you want to give it a try?” My face burned with shame. I bit my lip and mumbled that I didn’t know how to ride. In that instant, the look of disappointment in his eyes felt like a death sentence. 2 That day, I went home and cried, and we had a huge fight. Chris was completely baffled, but he did his best to explain. He didn’t like Vivian that way, he insisted. The whole “childhood betrothal” thing was just a joke their parents had made once when they were drunk. No one took it seriously. His explanation should have been enough. But somehow, the knot of anxiety in my throat didn’t loosen. It only tightened. I wanted to tell him to spend less time with her. I wanted to beg him, Just wait for me. I’ll be amazing one day, too. I’ll be someone you can be proud of. But those secret, girlish pleas were lodged in my throat, too humiliating to speak aloud. To say any of it would be to admit my own inferiority. So, I grew quiet instead. Chris didn’t notice. He and Vivian had too many shared interests to explore. But his mother did. Mrs. Johnston noticed. She summoned me to the sunroom, her grace and elegance making it feel like a casual chat. “Do you know why I never tried to stop Chris from dating you, dear?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk. I said nothing. “Because I knew it would never last. He’s a boy who needs to get things out of his system. Once he’s had his fun, the obsession fades.” She smiled faintly. “See? Look how well he and Vivian are getting along now.” I stood there, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped down my back, making me shiver. “Chris told me he doesn’t like her.” Mrs. Johnston let out a soft, silent laugh and adjusted the cashmere shawl around her shoulders. “Oh, you sweet, silly girl. If you step aside gracefully, you’ll give him an easy way out.” “And if I don’t?” “Thea,” she said, her tone shifting from condescending to cold. “This is a notification, not a negotiation.” Mrs. Johnston was a woman of her word. A week later, she fired my mother. My mom came to our small apartment in tears, her hands trembling as she signed, her chest heaving with silent sobs. “They said I was stealing. They kept my last month’s pay.” I fought back my own tears and apologized over and over, promising her I would find a way to get her money back. But when I went to find Chris, he was in the middle of a video game with Vivian. He spared me a fleeting glance before tossing his controller aside, his tone inexplicably sharp. “Thea, why did you start dating me in the first place?” I froze, then a cold dread washed over me. “Did your mother say something to you?” I asked, my voice rising. “Chris, don’t listen to her, she’s—” “Thea,” he cut me off, his voice laced with irritation. “Don’t talk about my mother like that.” I stood there, stunned into silence, staring at the anger on his face. He was looking at me like I was a stranger, and the coldness in his eyes made me tremble. After what felt like an eternity, he turned his back on me, waving a dismissive hand. “Just go home for now.” I stood outside the door, watching as he sat back down, picked up his controller, and said something that made Vivian laugh so hard she leaned against his shoulder. For the first time, I felt a horrifying certainty that everything Mrs. Johnston had said might be true. A few days later, two things arrived at once: my mother’s missing wages and my acceptance letter for a study abroad program. Seeing the joy on my mother’s face as she held the check, and the official email on my phone, I wavered. After a long hesitation, I sent Chris a text. I thanked him for the money and told him my acceptance had come through. Studying abroad together had always been our plan. He replied instantly with an address and two short words: “Come here.” Chris was out with his friends, a boisterous crew of Northwood’s richest sons who excelled at one thing: giving people a hard time. The moment I pushed the door open, the one closest to me, Carter, raised his glass. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in!” he drawled. “Congratulations on your acceptance to Penn, your highness! Don’t forget about us little people when you make it big!” I’d faced scenes like this more times than I could count since I’d started dating Chris. So, I ignored him and walked straight to Chris, who was sitting with his head bowed. Before I could even sit down, Carter spoke again, a smirk in his voice. “You know, Thea, you’re a classic example of marrying up. Let’s be real, without Chris, someone from your background would never even dream of studying abroad.” The words had barely left his mouth before Chris launched himself across the table and punched Carter square in the face. “What the hell did you just say?” In the end, they were both sent to the hospital. On the way there, Chris wiped a smear of blood from his lip, his head still down. “Did you get the money?” he asked. I was dabbing at the blood on his knuckles and nodded. He snatched his hand back, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh. Then he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him, his eyes boring into mine. He spoke each word with chilling precision. “Thea, if I had no money, would you still want to be with me?” A wave of exhaustion and despair washed over me. But I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his gaze, my voice earnest. “Chris, believe it or not, I have always loved you for you.” Years ago, my mother, who is deaf-mute, had been cheated out of her wages and thrown out of a domestic agency because they saw her as a liability. It was Chris, just a boy passing by, who had given me his number and told me to have my mom call his family, that they were looking for a housekeeper. The image of that boy’s bright, open smile still visited me in my dreams. He was the first splash of color in my otherwise gray life. How could I not love him? But I knew, in that moment, that Chris no longer believed me. He was looking at me with suspicion. It was the look of a superior judging a subordinate, someone trying to curry favor. 3 I began to seriously consider ending things with Chris. But I couldn’t let myself think about it for too long. The second I did, my heart would clench with a pain so sharp it took my breath away. So, I shamefully played the coward. Until the night of our graduation gala. I was in a storage room, grabbing more chairs, when I saw Chris stumbling down the hotel corridor. His body suddenly went slack, and he was about to collapse. My heart lurched. Without a second thought, I rushed forward and caught him. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he was muttering, “So hot, so hot…” He looked flushed and dazed, and I just assumed he was drunk. I struggled to support his dead weight, managing to get him into a nearby lounge to rest. It wasn’t until he pushed me down onto the bed, his weight pinning me, that I realized something was terribly wrong. I tried to fight him off, to wriggle free. But a part of me, a weak and desperate part, wondered if this was fate, making the choice for me. Then Chris made his own choice. He lifted his head, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at me. “Thea…?” My hand trembled as I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck. But in the next second, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me onto the floor. He clutched his head, his eyes clearing as he looked at me, crumpled on the carpet. “Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You drugged me!” I stared up at him, my hand instinctively flying to my chest. “Drugged you?” I whispered in disbelief. “No, I just saw you… you looked like you were about to pass out, so I…” My words died in my throat. The look on his face—pure, unadulterated scorn—silenced me. “Right,” he sneered. “Keep spinning your little stories, Thea. When did you become like this?” Tears welled in my eyes, but I held them back, making one last, desperate attempt to defend myself. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it. You can check the security cameras.” His only response was silence and that cold, mocking expression. The silence froze my heart solid. I wiped my eyes and, with a trembling voice, finally said the words that had been haunting me for weeks. “Chris, let’s break up.” The silent, brooding Chris suddenly let out a cold laugh. He hauled me to my feet. “Wow, Thea. You’re good. Playing hard to get now, are we?” His voice was laced with venom. “Is money really that important to you?” “Fine!” Before I could react, he was dragging me toward the door. He yanked it open and shoved me, hard, into the hallway. I stumbled and fell. The students milling about in the corridor froze, staring. A second later, the silence was broken by a chorus of wolf-whistles. Shaking with humiliation, I curled into a ball on the floor, desperately trying to pull the remnants of my dress over my chest. Someone in the crowd even took out their phone and started recording. My teeth chattered as I pleaded with the man standing over me. “Chris, please, don’t do this. Please, just give me a jacket. Anything.” He scoffed, his voice like ice. “Give you a jacket? Thea, did you think about covering up when you were plotting to drug me and climb into my bed?” His voice rose, echoing down the hall. “Isn’t this just the price people like you have to pay to get ahead?” A wave of shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd. Someone called me a gold-digging whore. Someone else said I got what I deserved. In that moment, I was nailed to a cross of public shame. After that night, I became infamous in our small circle in Northwood. My reputation as a gold digger was sealed. Anyone and everyone felt they had the right to look at me with disgust, their eyes lingering on my body with predatory intent. I was on the verge of a breakdown. I cut off all contact with everyone I had ever known, and one night, under the cover of darkness, I moved my mother out of the city. Seven years ago, when I fled Northwood in disgrace, I never thought I would return. For a long time, just the thought of the city was enough to make me curl up in a ball and tremble through the night. But now, seeing an old face, remembering those events that felt like they happened in another lifetime… the calm in my heart told me that time really is the best healer. And the Thea I am today is not the girl I was back then. So I spun around, walked right back to Carter, and slapped him across the face. Hard. “Go to hell.” His eyes bugged out. “Thea, you’ve grown some balls, haven’t you?” he snarled. “You want me to call Chris over here to deal with you?” I laughed. “It’s been years, and you people are still exactly the same.” Still so arrogant. He must have mistaken my laugh for fear. He pointed a finger at my stomach. “Good, you know you should be sorry. Now hurry up and take care of that… thing.” “Chris has been hung up on you for years. You’re one step away from climbing the social ladder. Isn’t that the lifelong goal for people like you?” Climbing the social ladder? The last time I tried that, Chris Johnston kicked me off, sending me from a “good girl” to a notorious tramp. A bitter smile touched my lips. “And what makes you so sure my husband isn’t a better man than Chris?” He looked at me, his expression shifting from anger to suspicion. He scanned me from head to toe. “Impossible. No respectable family would ever let the housekeeper’s daughter marry in.” He paused, then a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. “Oh, I get it. You married some bastard, didn’t you? An illegitimate son?” I just scoffed, too tired to argue. As I walked away, he yelled after me, “Thea, don’t you dare regret this!” I don’t know about me having regrets, but I was pretty sure he would. He told Chris I was back in Northwood. I found out when I was in a baby boutique, happily browsing through rows of tiny clothes. The sales associate next to me tapped my shoulder. “Is that the baby’s father?” she whispered, nodding toward the entrance. “He’s been standing there watching you for a while.” My heart skipped a beat. I turned, a smile already forming on my lips, but it froze solid on my face.

After the real heiress was brought home, I became a dirty little secret my parents couldn’t stand to look at. “You’ve been living the life my daughter deserved for eighteen years,” my mother spat, her eyes cold. “It’s time you learned what she went through.” They cut up my debit card and put me on a ten-dollar-a-day allowance. The real heiress, Victoria, started a group chat. She called it the “Daily Expense Oversight Committee.” Every single cent of that ten dollars had to be approved by her. I had to upload receipts for everything, writing a formal expense report just to buy a 50-cent packet of ramen seasoning. During the leanest month, I survived on 1-cent expiring bread I managed to snag from flash-deal apps. Until one day, a new couple showed up at the door, claiming I was their long-lost daughter. A DNA test was ordered. And what do you know? Turns out, both of us were imposters. 1 I stood in the living room, my packed suitcase at my feet. Victoria, the true heiress, was nestled between my parents on the sofa, looking perfectly at home. The moment the first DNA test confirmed I wasn’t their blood, my parents’ faces turned to ice. The warm smiles they reserved for Victoria vanished whenever they looked at me. “You’ve been living the life my daughter deserved for eighteen years,” my mother said, her voice dripping with resentment. “It’s time you learned what she went through.” “From now on, you’ll be independent,” my father added. “We will provide a ten-dollar daily allowance to support you until you graduate.” Ten dollars a day? I was so stunned, I thought I’d misheard. I looked desperately toward my brother, Michael, who was standing on the staircase landing. He met my gaze for a fraction of a second before turning and disappearing into his room. The family I’d known my whole life wouldn’t even give me a final glance. I couldn’t believe the people who had raised me for eighteen years could be so ruthless. All those warm, happy memories were gone, incinerated in an instant. My heart plummeted. “Oh, and one more thing,” my adoptive mother—no, not even that, Mrs. Crawford—added. “The costs for your upbringing, clothes, and private schooling over the years come to a little over two million dollars. You can start paying that back once you get a job.” My breath caught in my throat. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I’ll pay it back.” Victoria spoke up then, her voice sickly sweet. “Mom, Dad, why don’t you let me be in charge of distributing Lily’s allowance?” She blinked her big, innocent eyes, and my parents immediately agreed. “What a wonderful idea! You managed to save up enough to buy me a gift on ten dollars a day. You can teach her what real frugality looks like!” That night, I dragged my suitcase to the school dorm. Just as I finished unpacking, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Victoria. “Here’s today’s allowance!” Beneath the message were ten separate one-dollar money transfers. The humiliation was a physical blow. I tapped open each transfer, one by one. The ding of each dollar landing in my account was like a slap across my face. Sharp, clear, and degrading. My fingers moved mechanically across the screen. One dollar. One dollar. One dollar. After ten slaps, my balance had finally increased. Before I could recover, my phone buzzed again, frantically. Victoria had created a new group chat. The name was emblazoned across the top: “Daily Expense Oversight Committee.” She had added my parents, my brother, and even our driver and housekeeper. “From now on, Lily has to report every single purchase in the group chat,” she posted, followed by a cute smiley-face emoji. She claimed it was a team effort to help me develop good, frugal habits. “Victoria, you’re so thoughtful,” Mrs. Crawford replied almost instantly. “That’s the kind of daughter the Crawfords raise,” my father typed, adding a thumbs-up emoji. Michael delivered the closing statement: “Victoria has always been so mature. It’s great that she’s looking out for the family now that she’s home.” I stared at the screen, my hands shaking, wanting to type something, anything, in my defense. But what could I say? I was begging for ten dollars a day just to survive. Before I left, Victoria had personally cut up my debit and credit cards. She’d even gone through my wallet, counting out the cash inside. “This all belongs to Mom and Dad,” she’d said with a smile. “Starting today, you get to experience the real world, Lily.” Even as I packed, she’d stood over me like a hawk-eyed security guard, making sure I didn’t take any “valuables that don’t belong to you.” In the end, I left with only a few changes of clothes and my textbooks. She even confiscated the skincare products I’d used for years. “You stole the life that was meant for me,” she sent in a private message. “Now I’m taking it all back.” They’d already had my name legally removed from the family registry. Everything I had known for eighteen years was being returned to the true heiress. My phone buzzed again. “Oh, and don’t forget to post a detailed expense report in the group by 8 PM every night. If you go over budget, tomorrow’s allowance gets cut in half.” I looked down at the two cold, hard buns in my hand. They were my lunch and dinner, bought with the last three dollars on my meal card. I knew this was only the beginning. In Victoria’s little committee, I didn’t even have the right to fight back. 2 The morning alarm jolted me awake, and my first instinct was to grab my phone. I opened the “Oversight Committee” chat and tagged Victoria. “@VictoriaCrawford Please send today’s allowance.” The cafeteria started serving at 7 AM. I couldn’t afford to wait until 8 AM for her to leisurely send the money. She replied instantly. “Why are you in such a hurry? Afraid I won’t pay you? Mom and Dad promised they’d support you! Don’t you trust us?” Her messages came in a flood. “Can’t you wait a single minute? Is money all you think about? You can’t handle a little hardship? I had to live with your birth parents for eighteen years, you know.” The group chat exploded. Mom: “Victoria is already being so generous with you, Lily. Stop being so aggressive.” Dad: “The ten dollars is to teach you frugality, not for you to demand like a debt collector!” Michael: “Seriously? Making a scene over money first thing in the morning? It’s not like we’re not going to give it to you.” I stared at the screen, my knuckles white as I gripped my phone. In the end, I said nothing. After everyone had had their say, Victoria slowly sent out the ten-dollar allowance. But this time, she’d made it a group cash pool—a ten-dollar pot split into six random amounts for the whole family to grab. By the time I clicked, I’d only managed to get $2.30. My parents were busy comparing who got more, bragging about which of them was luckier and had gotten more of their real daughter’s “good fortune.” They’d completely forgotten their promise that they would “give it to me.” At the cafeteria, I stood in line with my tray. I could only afford a small serving of stir-fried greens, which I paired with the half a bun I’d saved from yesterday. I had just sat down when a piercing laugh cut through the noise behind me. “Well, well, if it isn’t the little princess! What are you eating? Even a pig wouldn’t eat that slop!” It was Victoria, arm-in-arm with her lackey, Ashley. Her voice was deliberately loud. She went to the premium counter and ordered a ninety-eight-dollar steak. She came back and sat down next to me, making a show of cutting into the steak, the sizzling sound a form of torture. My stomach rumbled as the rich, savory aroma filled my nostrils. “After stealing my life for eighteen years, you’re finally getting a taste of how normal people live?” she said, her voice dripping with fake pity. “I’m just too soft-hearted. I had to beg Mom and Dad to even give you an allowance. Otherwise, you’d be starving!” She leaned in closer. “Just you wait. Your real parents don’t even want you. They abandoned you because you’re a girl. Now you see what I had to suffer through for you, don’t you?” “This fake heiress is so obsessed with money. No self-awareness at all.” The whispers started around me. Some students shot me looks of disgust; others smirked with glee. I kept my head down, mechanically chewing the dry, hard bread. My throat was tight, but I forced myself to swallow. That evening, Victoria messaged the group right on time. “Where’s the expense report for today? No funny business, now.” I screenshotted my cafeteria payment. Caption: “Breakfast: Bun & egg, $3. Lunch: Greens, $4. Dinner: Fried dough, $2.” Victoria replied: “See, Mom and Dad? She can’t even spend the full ten dollars in a day!” The one dollar I had saved was for toiletries. Her comment made it sound like ten dollars was a fortune. In reality, I hadn’t had a single full meal all week. It was all vegetables, with the occasional egg. I’d lost several pounds and felt dizzy when I walked. At this rate, just staying healthy was a challenge, let alone studying. I forced myself to go to the guidance counselor and ask about a work-study program. “Ma’am, I’d like to apply for a job in the cafeteria or the library.” The counselor pushed her glasses up her nose and looked me up and down. “Lily, you’re dressed head-to-toe in designer clothes. Why are you pretending to be poor? Victoria already told me her parents are still supporting you. Don’t be so ungrateful.” I was stunned. “But, I…” “That’s enough,” she said, her tone sharp with irritation. “You need to adjust to a normal life and stop acting like you’re still some pampered heiress.” Victoria had gotten to her first. I left her office and leaned against the wall in the hallway, slowly sliding to the floor. Hunger, humiliation, isolation… She didn’t just want me to suffer. She wanted everyone to believe I deserved it. 3 I endured her petty torments, gritting my teeth and keeping my head down. I thought if I didn’t fight back, she’d eventually get bored and leave me alone. I was wrong. A post suddenly went viral on the school’s online forum. Exposing the Fake Heiress’s Life of Luxury. The post was full of photos from my birthday party last year. Back then, I was the apple of my parents’ eye, and my brother would do anything for me. In the pictures, I was wearing a couture gown, smiling in front of a three-tiered cake. Around my neck was a limited-edition diamond necklace from a luxury brand—a gift from my parents. “Look at the life this imposter used to live. Who is she trying to fool with this poor-little-me act?” The comment section was flooded with recent photos of me in the cafeteria, eating dry bread and plain vegetables. Victoria loved to rail against the rich, but even when I was meticulously surviving on ten dollars a day, I couldn’t escape her relentless bullying. My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the post. Those photos were from a private party. They could have only come from someone inside my old house. My first instinct was to call Ryan. He was once my “fiancé,” desperate to ingratiate himself with my family. The phone rang for a long time before he finally picked up. “What’s up?” His voice was cold, distant. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. In the background, I heard Victoria’s sweet, coquettish voice. “Who is it, Ryan?” “No one,” he said quickly, and hung up. I listened to the dial tone, a bitter smile on my face. Ryan was a classic opportunist. He was probably busy fawning over Victoria now. If she found out I’d called him, I’d be walking right into a trap. I’d be accused of trying to “seduce her man.” Then I probably wouldn’t even have my ten dollars a day anymore. After I went from a wealthy heiress to a penniless fake, Victoria’s whispers turned me into the school’s new favorite target for bullying. My textbooks would mysteriously disappear. Someone poured glue on my chair. The words “Fake & Snooty” were scrawled in red paint across my dorm locker. I had no money for sanitary pads, so I had to secretly use wads of toilet paper. During gym class, I bled through my pants. Soon after, the anonymous texts started. “How can you still show your face at school?” “She did it on purpose to get attention from the boys!” “Just die, you imposter.” I hid in a bathroom stall, crying until my head spun. I planned to wait until everyone was gone before sneaking back to my dorm. That’s when I overheard Victoria and her friends talking outside. “Ryan bought me a necklace yesterday,” Victoria chirped to Ashley. “He said he wants to make up for all the suffering I went through.” “So when are you two going public?” “What’s the rush?” Victoria laughed. “Ryan said he’s going to help me get that imposter kicked out of school first. As a sign of his devotion.” I sat on the toilet, a wave of despair washing over me. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone? What were they planning next? And what was I supposed to do? As I sat there, utterly hopeless, a couple claiming to be my real parents showed up at my dorm.

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My fiancé gained ten pounds before our wedding physical. I broke up with him on the spot. He rubbed his temples, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Is my appearance really that important to you? I can lose the weight, Amrita. I promise.” I just shook my head. “No, it’s not that,” I said, my voice steady. “At your last check-up, you were diagnosed with fatty liver disease. For your health, you promised me you’d eat clean.” I calmly held up my phone, showing him the screenshot. A private Instagram story he’d hidden from me. The background was our newly renovated condo, the one we were supposed to move into after the wedding. In the photo, a delicate hand with a perfect manicure was placing a box of beef into a bubbling hot pot for him. “I’m the one eating boiled vegetables and chicken breast with you every night,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “So who’s the girl treating you to hot pot, barbecue, and pizza?” 1 The color drained from Allen’s face. “Amrita, listen to me, I can explain…” Before he could get the words out, his phone buzzed on the table. It had been doing that at the same time every day for weeks. I’d always assumed it was work. Now I knew better. I didn’t even look up. “Put it on speaker.” The phone rang for a full thirty seconds, a shrill, insistent sound in the tense silence. Finally, he swiped to answer, his thumb hovering over the speaker icon before pressing down. “Allen, honey,” a sweet voice cooed from the speaker. “I made that spicy poached fish you love. When are you coming over?” A cold sweat broke out on Allen’s forehead, his lips trembling. He finally managed to choke out a single sentence. “I’m not coming.” Then he scrambled to hang up. But it was too late. I recognized that voice. It belonged to his ex-girlfriend of ten years, Isabelle. A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “After all this time. Of course, it’s still her.” I snatched my car keys from the table and walked toward the door. “Come on,” I said, looking back at him. “Let’s go have some of that fish, shall we?” The drive to our—to my—condo took twenty minutes. The renovations had just been finished last month. I’m a sentimental person; I wanted to wait until we were officially married to spend our first night there together. The bed, a custom piece I’d designed myself, had cost me over ten thousand dollars. I’d never even laid down on it. But apparently, another woman had. A wave of nausea washed over me. I felt sick. “Amrita… Isabelle just got laid off, and her landlord scammed her out of her deposit. She had nowhere else to go. She called me, crying… We all went to college together, you know? I was just letting her crash for a few days…” He kept rambling, his excuses a meaningless buzz in my ear as we waited for the elevator. I tuned him out. The moment I opened the door, a sharp pain lanced through my chest, even though I thought I was prepared. I’d been so busy with work, and Allen had insisted the paint fumes were still too strong, that I hadn’t been back to see the place. I didn’t recognize it. A fluffy pink throw was draped over the sofa. A bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath sat on the coffee table. The kitchen was fully stocked, and a clay pot on the stove was simmering, sending fragrant steam into the air. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my throat, cutting off my air. “Woof! Woof!” A small Pomeranian scampered out of the bedroom, followed closely by Isabelle. The two of them, woman and dog, looked more like they belonged here than I ever would. The sheer audacity of it all made me want to laugh. Isabelle wrung her hands, the picture of innocence. “Amrita, I’m so sorry. I’m in a really tough spot. I’ll move out as soon as I find a place.” Before I could say a word, Allen exploded. “Isabelle, I’ve done more than enough for you!” he roared. “You have two days. Find a job and get out. If you can’t, go back to your hometown and stop screwing up my life!” He stomped into the living room, grabbing the pink throw and the vase of flowers, and hurled them into the trash can. “This is my and Amrita’s home! I let you stay here out of pity, don’t push your luck!” His words brought tears to Isabelle’s eyes. She scooped up her dog, looking lost and hurt. “Allen… please don’t be so cruel.” “Don’t call me Allen! You don’t have the right!” He was putting on quite a show. You’d almost think she’d moved in without his permission. He pointed a shaking finger at the dinner table. “And I never wanted to eat this crap! You’re the one who insisted on cooking it!” The next thing I knew, he’d flipped the entire table over. Isabelle shrieked as hot oil and broth splattered onto her arm, a red welt instantly forming on her skin. Silent tears streamed down her face. She looked at Allen, her voice trembling with grief. “Do you really not want my food? Or are you just scared of her, saying things you don’t mean?” Her voice cracked. “Every time you came here, you were starving. She has you on that crazy diet, she won’t even let you eat a proper meal. I feel so sorry for you, and this is how you treat me?” The sobs wracked her body. “Nothing happened with Leo back then, I swear. We were just drunk. I loved you so much, Allen. How could I ever betray you?” “Shut up!” A flash of raw agony crossed Allen’s face. Right. I’d almost forgotten. They hadn’t broken up because they fell out of love. They broke up because Allen was convinced she’d cheated on him. 2 Allen and Isabelle had been high school sweethearts. First loves. They’d been together for ten years, all through college and his PhD program. A decade is a long time—long enough for someone to become a part of you, woven into the very fabric of your being. If Allen hadn’t walked in on Isabelle in bed with his best friend, Leo, they probably would have been married by now. After the breakup, it took Allen a full year to pull himself together. He was my father’s star student, and with a little encouragement from my dad, we started dating. When Isabelle found out, she staged a suicide attempt and went on social media, accusing me of being a homewrecker. All of their mutual friends treated me like an invader, an unwelcome presence in their circle. But Allen had been my rock through it all. He stood by me, defended me, and made me believe our foundation was solid. I truly thought we were fine. I never imagined that after all this time, he and Isabelle would still be tangled up like this. If a mutual friend hadn’t forwarded me that hidden Instagram story, I would still be in the dark, happily planning our wedding. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. Isabelle’s choked sobs pulled me back to the trashed apartment. I couldn’t stand to be there for another second. I turned and walked out. “Amrita!” Allen scrambled after me. As he left, he tossed a small pack of bandages to Isabelle for her burn. A gesture that was supposed to look cold, but was really just a twisted form of caring. “Amrita, wait, slow down! Let me explain!” he pleaded, catching up to me. “I never wanted her in our home, I swear! But she’s crazy, she threatened to kill herself if I didn’t help her… She was always like this, even back in school. Her family life was a nightmare—abusive dad, mom ran off… She’s not like you, Amrita. You have a great family, a support system. She has nothing. It’s… it’s pitiful.” I almost laughed again. “So it’s my fault for having a good life?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, that’s not what I mean! I’ll handle it, Amrita, I swear. I’ll get her out. Just… please, forgive me.” His eyes were red, desperate, like he was on the verge of tears. Just then, his phone started vibrating again. Call after call. He rejected every one. On the last one, he answered and shouted into the phone, “Isabelle, you’re insane! Stop calling me!” Then, as if to prove his loyalty, he blocked her number right in front of me. “Amrita, I only love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Please… don’t leave me.” I’ll admit it. In that moment, I wavered. We’d been together for three years. There were real feelings there. And our families were a good match; marrying him was, on paper, the most logical choice. I didn’t say anything. I just drove us back to our old apartment. Allen was a model of devotion all evening. “Amrita, from now on, I’ll keep my distance from that psycho, I swear… And I’ll lose the weight before the wedding, I’ll get back to my goal weight!” He swore up and down. “If I ever contact her again, may I drop dead!” His promises echoed in the quiet apartment. But when I woke up in the middle of the night, his side of the bed was empty. I called his phone. He said there was an emergency at work, he had to go in. But I could hear it. A faint, almost imperceptible sound of a woman crying in the background. A bitter smile touched my lips. He really did think I was a fool. I hung up and sent him a two-word text: We’re done. His calls started immediately, one after another. His texts flooded my screen. [Amrita, answer the phone! You’re killing me!] [Babe, please don’t do this.] [I’m begging you, just pick up…] But by morning, he still hadn’t come home. 3 I packed my bags and left the apartment where we had built a life for three years. It was my father’s birthday. The last thing I wanted was to worry him, so I plastered on a smile and pretended everything was fine. The house was full of guests. Just before dinner, the doorbell rang. It was Allen, holding a gift-wrapped box. He greeted my father with a cheerful, “Happy birthday, Dad!” I didn’t want to make a scene in front of our family and friends, so I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and played along. Halfway through the party, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, putting on a show for everyone. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper only I could hear. “Amrita, stop being mad,” he murmured. “I promise, this was the last time. I already told that psycho to get out of our house for good.” He was in the middle of his earnest, heartfelt promise when he froze. He hadn’t noticed her. The very psycho he was talking about was standing in the doorway. Isabelle’s eyes were bloodshot, and she looked like she was about to collapse. When she called his name, her voice was a raw, broken rasp. Allen was stunned. His body went rigid, a look of pure, cornered panic on his face. “What are you doing here? Isabelle, are you trying to ruin my life?” he hissed. “We broke up years ago! If you keep harassing me, I’m calling the cops! Now get out!” He shoved me behind him, a shield between me and her, as he glared at Isabelle. But Isabelle was beyond reason, her tears turning into a hysterical frenzy. She latched onto his sleeve. “No! I’ll follow you for the rest of my life! You’ll never get rid of me!” Her voice rose, drawing the attention of every guest in the room. “I’ve thought it all through, Allen! I still love you! I can’t live without you! The thought of you marrying another woman is killing me! Call me pathetic, call me shameless, I don’t care! I’m not letting you go!” Allen’s face cycled through shades of red and white. I just wanted the floor to swallow me whole. The room was filled with the whispers and stares of my family’s closest friends. A wave of dizziness washed over me, the world tilting on its axis. With the last shred of my composure, I turned to Allen. “Take your drama outside. Get this crazy woman out of my house.” Isabelle let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Oh, that’s easy for you to say, isn’t it, Amrita? Who do you think drove me crazy in the first place?” She pointed a shaking finger at me. “Allen and I had ten years together! If it weren’t for you, we’d be married by now! You think he actually loves you? He’s only with you for your family’s money and connections! If you were like me, crawling out of the mud, do you think he’d even give you a second look?” “Isabelle, shut your goddamn mouth!” Allen’s voice was strained with panic. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the house. As I watched them disappear, the dam inside me finally broke. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until there was nothing left. The three years of our relationship felt like a diseased growth on my body. Cutting it out was going to hurt. When I finally stumbled out of the bathroom, my stomach empty and my body trembling, the guests were all gone. Only my parents were left, waiting by the door. I collapsed into my mother’s arms, the sobs I’d been holding back tearing from my throat. “Dad, Mom… I don’t want to marry him.” My mother held me tight, her hand gently rubbing the back of my neck, just like she did when I was a little girl. “Okay, honey. We won’t. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” “All we want is for you to be happy, sweetheart,” my father added, his voice thick with emotion. I cried until I couldn’t breathe, my head pounding with a dull ache. And then, the world went black. I had a fever of 104. By the time they got me to the hospital, I was burning up. I drifted in and out of a long, disjointed dream. When I finally woke up, it was dark outside. My parents had stepped out to get me some food. I was alone in the quiet room. I finally felt like I could breathe again. And then the door creaked open.

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