On our wedding anniversary, Lina finally cleared her schedule for the tropical getaway I’d planned. But just as we were about to board, her phone buzzed. A crisis. Her father was sick. “John, I’m so sorry,” she said, her face a mask of concern. “My dad’s not feeling well. I have to go back and check on him. I can’t go with you this time.” Disappointment pricked at me, but family comes first. I nodded, telling her to go. The moment she was gone, I tore up my ticket. I decided to go home, too. I was morbidly curious to see what was ailing my father-in-law, considering he’d been dead for three months. 1 I tailed her car all the way back to our front door. I didn’t get out right away. Instead, I pulled out my phone, a knot of dread tightening in my stomach. A notification popped up. It was an Instagram story from William, our housekeeper’s son. He was posting from inside my house. The caption read: [Your blatant favoritism is the best 21st birthday gift a guy could ask for!] The picture was of him, sharp in a white suit, with his arm wrapped around a woman. That woman was my dutiful, “worried” wife. I flexed my fingers, my knuckles cracking in the quiet car. Then I opened the door and walked in. The foyer opened into a sprawling living room, now packed with a dozen strangers, balloons clinging to the walls. A chorus of voices rose above the music. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” On the third or fourth chant, my wife, Lina, hooked her hands around William’s neck and pulled him into a deep, passionate French kiss. The crowd erupted in cheers. When they finally broke apart, Lina lingered, tracing his lips with her thumb. Her eyes, still hazy with desire, lifted and met mine. I was standing at the front of the crowd. Her eyes widened in horror. She instinctively tried to shove him away. But I was faster. I strode forward and slapped her. Twice. Hard. The sharp cracks echoed through the room, silencing the party instantly. William spun around. When he saw me, his face went white as a sheet. He grabbed Lina’s arm, pulling her behind him in a protective gesture. I stared at her, a humorless smile playing on my lips. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten yourself a new father.” Lina’s eyes darted around, panicked, as she scrambled for an explanation. But before she could speak, a guy with bleached-blond hair shoved me hard. “Who the hell are you? You can’t just barge into someone’s house and hit people! Are you insane? Apologize to William and his girlfriend right now, or you’ll regret it!” His outburst opened the floodgates. “Yeah, who just attacks someone like that? Is that even legal? An apology isn’t enough, we should call the cops.” “I agree. The police should run a background check on this creep. He’s hitting people now, who knows what he’ll do next?” “How did a psycho like this even get into a private party? Do you have any idea who you just hit?” I let a small, chilling smile touch my lips as I looked past them, my gaze fixed on Lina. “You agree with them, don’t you? You think I was wrong to hit you.” Lina licked her lips, about to speak, but William tugged on her sleeve and gave her a slight shake of his head. I saw the small, swift exchange. I was almost curious to see what kind of game they thought they could play. A moment later, Lina’s expression hardened into a furious glare. “John, what the hell is your problem now? It’s William’s birthday. Whatever you have to say can wait. Don’t make a scene and ruin his night. Get out!” So, she was worried about her boy-toy losing face in front of his friends. My smile widened into a cold grin. “Get out? Where to, Lina? Or is there something you’re afraid of people finding out?” Before she could answer, William stepped forward, taking her hand in a bold declaration of ownership. “John, I know you’ve always had a crush on Lina,” he said, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “It must hurt to see her with me. But you can’t force love. Lina loves me. We’ve been together for two years. She promised we’d get married as soon as I graduate. I’m begging you, please, just leave her alone.” Lina’s face flickered through a dozen emotions at his words. She shot a nervous glance at me from the corner of her eye. But William’s words had hit me like a physical blow. Today was my and Lina’s second wedding anniversary. And they had been together for two years. It meant he was with her before we even got married. It meant she brought him and his father into our home under the guise of hiring a housekeeper, and I’d been played for a fool the entire time. Two years. They’d been laughing at me for two whole years. The blond kid piped up again. “Oh, I get it now! You’re the male nanny who’s obsessed with the boss’s girlfriend! You’ve got some nerve, trying to steal someone’s girl in public.” A male nanny? The absurdity of it all made a laugh escape my lips, raw and humorless. “William, are you still dreaming? In what world am I qualified to be your nanny?” The words were barely out of my mouth when a splash of cold liquid hit my face. Alcohol dripped from my chin. The blond kid held an empty glass, smirking. “Looks like you’re the one who needs a reality check. We all know who William is. His dad’s a big-shot businessman, and his girlfriend runs her own company. This whole villa is his. And you…” He looked me up and down with disgust. “Look at the crap you’re wearing. Not even a brand name on it. You’re only fit to scrub floors and serve people like us.” Crap? My suit had no visible brand because it was a bespoke piece, custom-designed by a master tailor in Paris. A girl next to him chimed in, “Yeah, apologize to William right now, or you’ll be out of a job.” Another girl stepped forward, her tone slick and mocking. “Hey, old man, take a look in the mirror. You really think you can compete with a god like William? But if you’re that desperate for a woman, maybe I can help you out. I’ve never been with a guy in his thirties. How about two hundred for the night?” The group erupted in laughter. I wiped the wine from my face, my eyes burning into Lina. “Lina. I am your husband. And you’re just going to stand there and let them help your lover humiliate me like this? I’m telling you, you will regret this.” Her face was a mask of indifference. “William is my boyfriend. You brought this on yourself.” Her words were deliberately ambiguous, but they were all the encouragement William needed. With his friends backing him, he puffed out his chest. “John, I call you ‘bro’ out of respect for your age, but don’t forget your place. I can ignore your usual tantrums, and I can even forgive you for ruining my party. But Lina is a woman. She’s the CEO of a major corporation. For you to slap her in front of all these people… have you ever once thought about her feelings?” He then turned to Lina, his voice softening. “Lina, darling, I may be young, but I know how to protect my woman. I’ll always give you the respect you deserve in public. Unlike some people…” His words were a masterstroke, preying on her vanity and her deep-seated insecurities. I let out a cold laugh. “You’re right. I forgot. I only hit her, I didn’t hit you.” In the next second, I lunged, grabbing the collar of his pristine white suit and landing two solid punches on his handsome face. William screamed, clutching his now-bleeding nose. “John, you hit me! You’re dead! I’ll make you pay for this!” “Keep barking, you little mutt,” I snarled, raising my fist again. But before I could land another blow, Lina’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and she shoved me with all her might. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward, crashing into the champagne tower. Glass shattered everywhere. I fell into the wreckage, my hand landing on a pile of broken stems. Lina didn’t even glance at me. She shielded William with her body and pointed a trembling finger at me. “John! Apologize to William! Now!” I looked down at my palm, blood welling up around the shards of glass embedded in my flesh. Biting back a wave of agony, I began pulling the pieces out, one by one. Two years of marriage. It felt just like this. A handful of glittering, painful fragments, piercing me to the bone. From behind Lina’s protective embrace, William shot me a triumphant smirk. The searing pain in my hand sharpened my voice, honing it to an icy edge. “Lina. You throw a party for your lover in my house. You cheat on me in front of my own eyes. And now you want me to apologize to him? Did a dog eat your brain? Or do you just think I’m some kind of pushover? Don’t you forget, the same hands that draped you in gold can strip you bare and turn you into a beggar in a second!” My words made her flinch. But William spoke up first. “John, Lina built her company from the ground up with her own hard work and brilliant mind. She achieved her success on her own terms. Don’t act like you had anything to do with it.” I froze. A brilliant mind? Her own terms? Financial freedom? This was a woman who couldn’t even make sense of a simple business proposal. How had she suddenly become a genius? When she wanted to start her own business, it was I who gave her the first million dollars from my family’s funds. It was I who secretly funneled multi-million dollar contracts from my father’s corporation to get her started. To protect her fragile ego, I even poached the heads of several key departments from my father’s company and had them work for her. I told her they were simply inspired by her vision. And she believed it. She actually thought these seasoned professionals flocked to her tiny startup because they were in awe of her “potential.” Without me pulling the strings behind the scenes, her “small company” would never have grown into the massive corporation it was today, on the verge of an IPO. The other guests, hearing our argument, began whispering amongst themselves. “Did you hear that? He said this is his house, and William is the other man. Do you think he’s telling the truth?” “It’s possible. I mean, look at him, he’s about the same age as William’s girlfriend. I always thought it was weird she was with someone so much younger. Maybe she’s the one who’s a fraud.” “But she’s protecting William so fiercely. If he was the mistress, would she really be this bold?” “I don’t know, but grab your popcorn. This is getting good.” The blond kid couldn’t stand it anymore. “Stop speculating! This is William’s house! I’ve been here tons of times. I’ve seen him and his girlfriend sleeping in the master bedroom with my own eyes. I’ve even met his dad. That’s the real tycoon.” My stomach churned with nausea at the thought of them together in my bed. William, seeing his advantage, fiddled with the matching promise ring on his finger. “This is my house. Everyone here can prove it. You’re the one who needs to leave. Lina, darling, I don’t want to see him. Can you make him go?” Lina nodded. “This is your home. Whatever makes you happy, William.” The blond kid grabbed a handful of my hair and started dragging me toward the door. “You need to learn some self-respect, old man. Who do you think you are, trying to steal another man’s girlfriend so openly? You’re pathetic.” Then, he yelled to the others, “Hey, anyone want to see what this creep looks like with his clothes off? He looks like he might have some abs. It’ll be a good way to get some payback for William!” My blood ran cold. I instinctively clutched the front of my shirt. Some of the girls, their eyes gleaming with malicious excitement, reached for my clothes. “Get off me!” I yelled, struggling desperately. I looked to Lina, a last, desperate plea in my eyes, hoping she would stop them. She frowned and started to raise a hand, but William caught her wrist. “It’s okay, Lina,” he whispered. “They’re just blowing off some steam for me. They know their limits. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping, “this way, you’ll have even more control over him later, won’t you?” A flicker of understanding crossed Lina’s face. She pinched his chin playfully, and together, they watched as the mob descended on me, tearing at my clothes. “Let me go! This is assault! You’re breaking the law!” The blond kid slapped me across the face. “We’re doing a public service! You like stealing women, right? There are plenty of hot young girls here. You should be grateful!” His words were the signal. I felt countless hands on my body… Just as despair began to set in, a booming voice echoed from the doorway. “How’s my baby boy’s birthday going? Daddy’s got your present!” William’s father, Mr. Bond, stood there in a sharp black suit, holding an elegant gift box. He looked every bit the powerful tycoon his son’s friends believed him to be. Then he saw the scene in the living room and let out a strangled cry. “What in God’s name are you people doing?” The blond kid immediately ran to him to tattle. “Mr. Bond, you were only gone for a minute and this guy broke in, started trouble, and even hit William!” Mr. Bond’s eyes followed the kid’s pointing finger and landed on my face. The color drained from his own. His lips trembled. He couldn’t even meet my gaze. William, however, put on a show of magnanimity. “Dad, it’s okay. I’m sure John didn’t mean it. He was just upset seeing me and Lina together. My friends were just teaching him a little lesson for me. Please, forgive him this once. Don’t fire him.” Mr. Bond understood immediately, though his tongue still felt thick. “Well… you all carry on, then. I’ll just be upstairs.” Rage boiled in my veins. My voice came out as a raw, cold rasp. “Mr. Bond. Your son is an idiot, and you’re just going to let this happen? You really think these kids can protect you forever?” As I spoke, I discreetly maneuvered my phone into my hand. The housekeeper puffed out his chest, trying to regain his composure, though his voice was still shaky. “You little bastard, watch your mouth. You think I’m afraid of you? Everyone knows my son and Ms. Lina are the real couple. He’s the only one worthy of her. A piece of trash like you needs to be taught a lesson. Don’t hold back, boys. If anything happens, I’ll take care of it.” I gritted my teeth, trying to stall for time. “You’ll take care of it? With what? You’re just a housekeeper who thinks he’s a king.” My gaze shifted to Lina. “Lina, every single person who has touched me today will pay. Every. Single. One. And that includes you.” William charged at me again, but I used my last ounce of strength to surge up and slam my body into his. He crashed to the floor. Lina’s face contorted with fury.

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1. I got a ten-thousand-dollar year-end bonus, and my boyfriend insisted I treat him to a fancy dinner. The bill came. Eighty thousand dollars. Stunned and realizing I’d been scammed, I refused to pay. The restaurant owner had me tied up, snarling that if I didn’t cough up the money, he’d make sure I disappeared. I took a closer look at him, and my blood boiled. Wasn’t this my father’s man, Hugh “The Panther” Pane? My dad, Lucas Thorne, is a mob boss. He’s also completely obsessed with his daughter. When my mom divorced him, I couldn’t stand his life of constant violence and refused to see him. He stood before me with tears in his eyes and swore he’d go straight. But all these years later, it looked like his men were still up to their old tricks! And they had the audacity to tie me up! … “Trying to dine and dash? You got another thing coming, sweetheart. Don’t you know whose turf you’re on?” “Pay up, or you’re leaving an arm behind!” A group of menacing thugs surrounded me. One of them held a heavy meat cleaver, tapping it against my shoulder as if measuring his cut. My heart leaped into my throat. Was this place a front? No wonder four dishes and a bottle of wine cost eighty grand. This wasn’t a dinner; it was a shakedown. I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Where’s my boyfriend? Where’s Jim?” If it wasn’t for Jim insisting we come to this place, I never would have set foot in this godforsaken corner of the city. The decor was opulent, screaming expensive, but I figured my ten-thousand-dollar bonus would more than cover it. I never imagined the bill would be eighty thousand. This had to be a setup. They could have just mugged me, but no, they served me a full meal first. At the mention of Jim, one of the thugs sneered. “Looking for him won’t do you any good. He’s the one who told us to grab you.” “Said you were a real cash cow. Said eighty grand was nothing, that you could pull out eight hundred if you had to! Looks like he misjudged. Our lucky day, huh?” “If you can’t pay, we’ll just break your legs and toss you into the Gilded Cage. You’ll earn back that eighty grand soon enough.” The Gilded Cage did not sound like a finishing school. I yelled, “I’m not going! This is kidnapping and extortion! It’s illegal! Let me go!” The man holding the cleaver laughed as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “Illegal? Honey, around here, I am the law.” “You don’t want to go to the Gilded Cage? Fine. Pay the bill. Otherwise, I’ve got plenty of ways to make you suffer.” With a cruel twist of his lips, he grabbed me by the neck and plunged my head into a nearby fish tank. The suffocating pressure was blinding. I struggled, my lungs burning, until he finally pulled me up. I gasped for air, water streaming down my face. It was time to negotiate. “I’ll pay,” I choked out. “But I don’t have that much on me right now. Let me make a phone call. I can have someone bring the money.” It was true. My mother managed all my earnings. The ten-thousand-dollar bonus was the only money in my personal account. They could drown me, but I couldn’t produce eighty grand. The words had barely left my mouth when a man with a thick, bushy beard slapped me across the face. “Dressed head to toe in designer clothes and you don’t have eighty grand? Who are you kidding?” “Make a phone call? You think we’re stupid? You call the cops, and you’re dead.” Just then, one of the younger goons spoke up impatiently. “Hugh, let’s just cut the crap and send her to the Gilded Cage already. A face like that? She’ll probably earn way more than eighty grand.” I looked closer at the man they called Hugh, the one with the beard. He seemed… familiar. Wait a minute. Wasn’t that Hugh Pane? Hugh “The Panther” Pane. My father’s right-hand man. My dad, Lucas Thorne, was a notorious mob boss, but he was even more notorious for being a doting father. My mother had been swept up in his whirlwind romance, a classic case of forceful charm leading to marriage and then to me. But she eventually grew tired of his domineering ways and decided to leave. I chose not to go with him, unable to stomach his world of violence. Lucas had stood before me, his eyes red, and swore on his life he would clean up his act. And now, all these years later, here was his top lieutenant, still running the same old rackets. And he had tied me up. If I hadn’t been studying abroad for so long, and if my eyesight wasn’t so bad, I would have recognized him sooner. My shock turned to fury. “Hugh Pane, you’ve got a death wish! How dare you tie me up!” The younger goon who had spoken earlier froze, then slapped me again. “You’re the one with a death wish! You think you can just use our boss’s name like that?” He raised his fist to strike me again. Hugh stopped him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How do you know my name?” I thought he’d finally recognized me. “Because I’m Lucas Thorne’s daughter!” I yelled. “Let me go, right now! If my dad finds out about this, he’ll have your head!” The suspicion on Hugh’s face immediately morphed into derision. “You? Posing as the boss’s daughter? You got a lot of nerve, lady!” I was speechless. “I really am his daughter! I’m Tiffany Thorne!” Hugh grabbed me by the collar of my dress and sneered. “Your boyfriend was calling you Jessica Thorne all through dinner. You think we’re all deaf?” “I am Tiffany!” I explained desperately. “I go by Jessica now because my parents divorced! I took my mom’s last name!” “If you don’t believe me, look at my phone’s lock screen! It’s a picture of me and my dad!” Hugh was my father’s most trusted man. He had to know my mother’s name. But the next thing I knew, a sharp pain shot through my shin as Hugh struck me with a wooden bat. “The boss and the missus are as happy as can be! How dare you say they’re divorced!” “You spread another rumor like that, and I’ll rip your mouth off!” I gasped, a cold dread washing over me. I’d forgotten. My father had kept the divorce a secret, afraid of the gossip it would cause my mother. I never thought his attempt to protect her would end up damning me. Just then, another goon handed my phone to Hugh. A flicker of hope ignited within me. Once he saw the lock screen, he’d know. But Hugh held the phone, squinting at the screen and then back at my face for a long moment. Then he spat on the floor. “I can’t believe I almost fell for your act. You’ve been playing me this whole time!” “You think I’m gonna believe a photoshopped picture of you with the boss?” “Tiffany is a sweet, chubby girl, a real picture of good fortune. You, with your plastic-surgery V-line face, you dare to impersonate her?” He raised the bat again, ready to strike. I was horrified. It was true, I used to be chubby. But after high school, my mom sent me to a weight-loss camp. I lost fifty pounds. That, combined with makeup and filters… I used to love it when people told me how thin and beautiful I looked. Now, the irony was just crushing. Just as the bat was about to come down on my head, a woman with heavy makeup stepped in and stopped him. “Hugh, what if this little tramp is the boss’s mistress?” “If you hurt her and he comes looking for you, what then?” Hugh shot her a furious glare. “You looking to die too? The boss and the missus are solid. He’d never have a mistress!” “Now, she’s not getting out of here even if she pays! There’s nothing I hate more than a homewrecker!” With that, he ordered his men to cut my face. My hands and feet were bound. I couldn’t move an inch. I screamed in terror, “I really am Lucas Thorne’s daughter! If you touch me, he’ll kill you all!” But a moment later, I heard the sound of fabric ripping as they tore my dress. “You dare to disrespect the missus? Not even God himself can save you now!” A wave of despair washed over me. Just then, a knock came at the door. “Hugh, the boss is here! He wants to book a private room for a birthday party! He’s looking for you!” Hugh’s face lit up. “Really? If the boss is putting in this much effort, it must be for the missus!” He pointed a disgusted finger at me. “Get rid of this trash. I don’t want the boss to see her. She’ll ruin the mood.” With that, he and his men hurried out of the room. The only person Hugh called “boss” was my father, Lucas Thorne. Could it be? Was he here? Tears welled in my eyes, but I knew I had to hold them back. If I was going to escape, this was my only chance. As they threw a bag over my head and dragged me out the door, I lashed out with a powerful kick, aiming for the groin of the man beside me. He grunted in pain and let go. I stumbled forward, running blindly. Unfamiliar with the layout, I tumbled down a flight of stairs. The fall left me dazed. Before I could recover, the man I’d kicked caught up and slammed something hard against the back of my head. “You little bitch! You dare kick me? I’ll beat you to death!” The world spun. Through the haze, I thought I saw my father’s silhouette at the end of the hallway. Then I was dragged away, and everything went black. When I woke up, I was tied up in a storage closet. My mouth was taped shut. My clothes were still on; I hadn’t been assaulted. Had they all rushed off to greet my father? That meant he was still here. As long as he was here, I still had a chance. I scooted over to the corner and began desperately rubbing the ropes against a sharp edge. Just then, I heard hushed voices outside the door. I pressed my ear against the wood and listened. It was Jim.

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In my eighth year as a Holt, my husband brought home his first love—his ‘one that got away.’ Michelle was the picture of innocence, yet bold and sharp. Despite being buried in debt, her gentle, kind nature won over the entire Holt family. My husband, Harrison, began courting her again, treating her with a tenderness I had never seen. Even my own two children decided this kind ‘Auntie Michelle’ would make a better mother than I ever did. But I wasn’t sad. In fact, I was thrilled. It meant my part in this novel was finally over. 1. So, when my daughter, Annie, stood before me with a look of disgust, demanding I apologize to her precious, kind Auntie Michelle, I didn’t even glance at her. I just calmly snipped an errant branch from the flowers in the vase. “Mom, if you don’t apologize, Leo and I won’t call you our mother anymore!” “Fine,” I said, my voice flat. “Then don’t.” I no longer cared about this daughter whose loyalty had shifted so easily. I remembered how I nearly died giving birth to her. I remembered humbling myself, begging the most famous art masters in the country to teach her piano, ballet, and art history, just so she would have skills to stand on her own. I’d pleaded with Harrison for months to allow her to receive the same heir training as our son. I had given her everything. But ever since Michelle arrived, it all changed. Michelle said children shouldn’t be crushed by tutoring, encouraging Annie to go out and play with her friends. And just like that, Annie stopped going to her lessons, spending her days shopping for clothes with Michelle instead. Since she had chosen that path, I wouldn’t stand in her way. After all, I was just the villainous side character in this book. My storyline was complete, and the System, pleased with my performance, had gone to collect my bonus. In two weeks, at most, it would take me back to my own world. I set down the shears and finally glanced at her, my expression a placid mask. Annie’s small face crumpled in discomfort, a flash of panic in her eyes. It was likely the first time in her life I had ever flatly refused her. But she recovered quickly. She lifted her chin, smugly showing off the makeup and pretty dress Michelle had bought for her. She even spun in a circle, making sure I got a good look. “Auntie Michelle gave me all of this. Isn’t it beautiful?” “You never let me touch this stuff before. You said I was too young, that it would rot my mind. You forced me to study and take lessons, and you’d smack my hands if I didn’t listen. You were always pushing me to perform on stage. You just treated me like a product, you never gave me any dignity!” Her accusations were so absurd, I almost laughed. Michelle must have fed her those lines. I had been terrified that, as a girl, she would be overlooked by the Holt family and married off without a thought. That’s why I brought her to every gala, gave her every opportunity to shine on stage, and taught her how to navigate high society. And now, after two cheap gifts from Michelle, she had devalued all my efforts to nothing. Did she have any idea how much of myself I had poured into her? Seeing my silence, Annie’s cheeks puffed out in anger. “You don’t really love me!” “Auntie Michelle is the one who’s truly good to me! She doesn’t wake me up at dawn to memorize texts and do practice exams. She buys me new clothes, tells me bedtime stories, and takes me to amusement parks! She’s a thousand times better than you!” “And Dad already said it! He’s going to marry Auntie Michelle and divorce you soon!” With a final, furious shout, Annie swept the vase off the table, sending it shattering to the floor before storming out. Even though I had resolved to let go of everything here, her words still left a bitter ache in my throat. I couldn’t help but wonder: was the heroine’s halo really so powerful that it could erase years of my devotion in an instant? Or was it because I was the villain, and everything I did was destined to be wrong? When Harrison first brought Michelle home, I hadn’t paid it much mind. It was only when they started their secret affair that I understood. In his heart, I had always been nothing more than Michelle’s substitute. And Michelle, armed with her protagonist’s luck, had charmed the entire Holt family in record time. My children, already resentful of my strict discipline, were easily swayed by her timely encouragement to rebel. As for Harrison, he’d shown me a sliver of respect at first. But then Michelle was mysteriously given laxatives. Soon after, she was pushed into the swimming pool and nearly drowned. She even had an allergic reaction at dinner. All signs pointed to me, and Harrison nearly tore my room apart, threatening divorce if I didn’t apologize. Furious, I’d snapped and called Michelle a homewrecker. Harrison slapped me so hard I stumbled back, knocking over a vase myself. Shards of porcelain sliced deep into my legs. The wounds were bandaged, but the pain kept me awake all night. This morning, I had finally forced myself out of bed, hoping some simple flower arranging would lift my spirits. That’s when Annie had burst in. I had been gritting my teeth through the pain the whole time she was here; now, it was unbearable. The System was unreachable. I had already used up all the advanced medicine I’d bought from its store on Harrison and the kids. The nanny who had cared for me for years had been fired by Harrison, and he’d forbidden anyone from taking me to a hospital. The only person allowed in my room now was Michelle’s personal maid, Brenda, and I wouldn’t dare touch the medicine she brought. I was a forgotten woman. The morning passed, and no one even brought me a meal. I dug out a tarnished old ring from the bottom of a chest and sighed at it. Around noon, a servant finally brought lunch. It was meager, but I wasn’t picky. I took one bite and immediately spat it out. Lavender. Everyone in the Holt household knew I was severely allergic to lavender. Michelle was doing this on purpose. Just as I was about to have the servant take it away, Harrison kicked the door open and stormed in. He was seething, and with another kick, he sent the small table flying. He glared at me, his brow furrowed in fury. “You almost killed Michelle, and I told you to apologize. Not only do you put on this pathetic act, but you spit out the food she made for you in the kitchen herself? How can a person be as venomous as you!” I lay on the bed, looking up at him with an unnerving calm. This only enraged him further. He lunged forward, his hand closing around my throat. “What? Is it so hard for you to just listen to me?” For eight years in this world, I had dutifully played my part, pouring my entire being into Harrison and our two children. If they had just accepted me, truly accepted me, I could have stayed with them forever. Before the heroine appeared, I had tried so hard to be a good mother and a loving wife, to win them over with genuine affection. But now… I shook my head and gave a bitter smile, looking at the man who was once my husband. “Harrison, I’ve told you a dozen times. I didn’t harm her. It was all her own little drama.” He stared back, his eyes cold and full of disbelief. Looking at his face, I took a deep breath and suddenly lost the energy to explain. “I know you have cameras all over this mansion. If you really wanted to know the truth, you could have found it. You’re just tired of me.” “Since you’ve already decided I’m guilty, what difference does an apology make?” Harrison froze, his expression faltering. For a moment, he looked pained, and his grip on my neck loosened. But then, as if remembering something, the pity in his eyes vanished, replaced by rage. “I thought you genuinely loved me, that you were willing to sacrifice for me. I never imagined you were this jealous, this malicious!” “Michelle is so kind. How could you bring yourself to hurt her?” “From now on,” he snarled, turning to the door, “no one is to bring the missus any medicine. And she is not to take one step out of this room. Not until the pain is too much for her to bear and she agrees to apologize to Michelle!” He waited, expecting to see regret or fear on my face. But I remained perfectly still. Harrison left. The air in the room was heavy. Brenda walked in and, seeing the overturned food, feigned surprise. “Oh, Madam, why did you spit out your porridge? How will you get better if you don’t eat?” “If the food wasn’t to your liking, you should have said something. I’ll have the kitchen make you a new batch right away.” She glanced at me, a smirk playing on her lips. Her voice was laced with sarcasm as she slowly cleaned up, deliberately bringing up my son, Leo. “You’ve been cooped up in here, so you probably don’t know. Master Leo was playing in the yard yesterday and called Miss Michelle ‘Mommy.’” “And to think of all your hard work over the years. Both your children refuse to acknowledge you. What a failure of a mother you are…” Her eyes shifted mockingly to my knees. “I heard your bones were broken. Without that special medicine, you’ll probably never stand up again, will you?” I let out a cold laugh. “I am the wife of the CEO of Holt Industries and the daughter of the chairman of Vance Corporation. What rotten vegetable are you to dare gossip about me?” I pretended not to see the flash of hatred in Brenda’s eyes and focused on straightening my legs. She shot me a venomous glare and then, as if remembering something, she strutted out of the room. In my current state, I started to wonder if I would even live long enough for the System to return. If Harrison tortured me to death before it got back, would I still be able to go home? A week passed. The food they sent became more and more careless. Sometimes it was just a bowl of thin gruel; other times, it was spoiled leftovers. I didn’t dare touch any of it. I secretly sent a note to a young maid, Wendy, whom I had helped before, giving her money to sneak me some instant noodles and bottled water. A few more days went by. Just as the System was about to transport me home, Michelle’s arrival interrupted the process. She entered with a retinue of servants, her chin high, her eyes full of arrogance. “Eleanor, dear. Such a pity about my leg injury. I can’t take care of you myself.” Suddenly, she wrinkled her nose as if smelling something foul. “How are these servants taking care of Mrs. Holt? There’s a strange smell in this room. If Harrison finds out…” She trailed off, a sly smile on her lips. “Then again, what if he does? He won’t even let you go to the hospital. Why would he care about a little mess? Right, Eleanor?” I looked past her and saw Annie and Leo standing behind her. They were clutching her clothes affectionately, their expressions a mixture of disgust and confusion as they looked at me. Annie stepped forward, her voice sharp. “Mother, all Auntie Michelle wants is a sincere apology. Who are you putting on this stubborn act for? No matter how much you deny it, you can’t hide the fact that you hurt her!” Leo’s round face was scrunched up in a frown. He couldn’t even be bothered to look at me. “Mom, you’re so evil!” Evil? I almost choked on a laugh. Leo had been a mischievous child. I had spent a fortune on the best tutors to teach him how to be a decent human being, to instill in him a basic moral compass. I glanced at the servants’ sons standing near him, boys who had grown up as his companions. They used to get along so well. Now, their arms were covered in angry red scratches from a ballpoint pen. Michelle noticed my gaze and giggled. “Leo is just a bit naughty. He loves playing a game with his friends called ‘You scratch me, I scratch you.’ But all little boys are like that. You’re far too strict, Eleanor.” Leo nodded vigorously, his chubby cheeks bunching up as he grinned. He had poor self-control, so I had always managed his diet to prevent health problems from obesity. Michelle, however, plied him with chips, cakes, and other junk food, and let him skip his meals. Now, Leo was short for his age but as wide as a tank. I didn’t even want to acknowledge he was my son. I looked at Michelle. “Did you come here just to show off how popular you are?” Though my heart ached, I knew you couldn’t force a bond. I had given them my all, and they had still chosen to be ruined by her. What could I do but respect their fate? “I never knew you were so heartless, Eleanor. Your own children have disowned you, and you don’t even care.” I shook my head and looked at my two children. “I can honestly say that from the moment you were born, I have cared for your every need. From your daily life to your education, I gave you nothing but the best.” I sighed. “Since you don’t want it, I won’t force it on you. If you want to call Michelle your mother, then so be it. I won’t fight your father for custody. She can be your mother in name.” As I finished speaking, Leo and Annie’s eyes went wide with disbelief. They probably never imagined I could be so resolute. Annie’s lip began to tremble, and she looked ready to cry. Michelle shot a look at a nearby maid, who quickly bent down and whispered to the children. “What mother would ever abandon her own children? She’s just testing you, trying to get you to admit you were wrong.” “Don’t worry. Just give her the cold shoulder for a few more days, and she’ll be begging you to come back. Do you really want to go back to doing homework and lessons every day?” At that, Leo let out a dismissive “Hmph,” convinced I was acting. “Stop pretending, Mom! You’re just like Dad said, always acting like you’re so nice. If you’re so tough, then ignore us forever!” Leo made a face at me, grabbed Annie’s hand, and ran off. “Are you happy now?” I asked Michelle. “Happy?” Michelle sat on the edge of my bed and leaned in, whispering in my ear. “This isn’t nearly enough to get you kicked out of the Holt family.” Before she could finish, she let out a piercing scream and threw herself backward, landing perfectly in the arms of Harrison, who had just rushed into the room. Such exquisite acting. A real shame she wasn’t pursuing a career in Hollywood. But, of course, some people are blind. Seeing this, Harrison didn’t hesitate, his hand flying up to strike me. If I hadn’t dodged, I’m sure the blow would have deafened me. Seeing me scramble away on the bed, Harrison seemed to snap out of it. He stared at his hand for a moment, then frowned. “The missus is malicious and has attempted to take a life. Lock her in the attic. She will kneel for a day and a night. Without my permission, no one is to bring her food. Anyone who disobeys can get out of the Holt family.” He paused, a flicker of conflict on his face. After a few seconds, he added, “If you agree to apologize to Michelle, I can be lenient…” Before he could finish, I cut him off. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Holt. But I won’t admit to something I didn’t do. It’s just kneeling, isn’t it? I’ll go.” The System would be back in a day anyway. There was no need to keep up the charade with this man. Harrison’s face became a kaleidoscope of colors, shifting from green to white. “Don’t you regret this!” he threatened. I met his gaze calmly, a cold smirk on my lips. “I won’t.” He stared at my expression, momentarily dazed. But his attention was quickly drawn back to Michelle, who was sobbing in his arms. “Someone, take Mrs. Holt to the attic.” With that, he swept Michelle into his arms and walked out, never looking back. Brenda couldn’t stop smiling. “You heard Mr. Holt. Madam, you’d better get to the attic. It’s drafty on all four sides, and it’s winter now. I do hope you survive the night.” I pulled a down jacket from the closet and put it on. I paused, staring at the ring on my dresser, and after a moment’s thought, I slipped it on my finger. The attic was colder than I imagined. It had snowed a few days ago, and even bundled up, the wind cut through me, making me shiver uncontrollably. I don’t know how long I knelt there, enduring the bone-deep ache, when I heard whispers at the small door. “Madam? Madam, can you hear us?” “Did she freeze? Oh no, if she stays in the attic any longer, she’ll…” It was Wendy and her younger sister, Lily. I massaged my numb legs and pushed myself up, leaning against the wall to get to the door. “What are you crying for? I’m not dead yet. Now go, before Michelle’s people find you.” Wendy had been with me since I first married into the family. Hearing my voice, she almost broke down completely. “Madam, just wait. I’ll find a way to save you.” “I brought bread and hot water. Please, eat something.” Lily passed the food through the crack in the door. I devoured it ravenously, the food finally soothing the gnawing emptiness in my stomach. “Don’t come back here again. There are a few gold bracelets in my nightstand. Take them and split them.” Wendy’s sobs grew louder. Afraid Michelle’s spies would discover them, I told a lie. “Don’t worry about me. They can’t do anything to me. I’ve already sent a letter to my parents. I’m going to divorce Harrison as soon as I leave this house.” Seeing that I had a plan, Wendy and Lily finally left, still crying. I was so cold I started to drift in and out of consciousness. Just when I thought I couldn’t hold on any longer, the System finally returned.

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I was the vicious fake heiress, raised in a wealthy family. After I died, the man I grew up with, my supposed soulmate, plastered my intimate photos online, calling me a cheap tramp who only knew how to seduce men. Protesters swarmed my family home, cheering that I had gotten what I deserved. To distance themselves from my “taint,” my parents burned our entire villa to the ground overnight. They even fed my ashes to the dogs. Everyone said I deserved to die. But then, on the day of the real heiress’s lavish, live-streamed wedding to my childhood sweetheart… They received a wedding gift from me. 1 The grand wedding of Elle and Elliott was a star-studded affair. In the audience, my parents dabbed at their eyes, whispering, “Our Elle is finally getting married. Our precious girl.” My ghost hovered in the air, a familiar ache twisting in my chest. They used to dote on me just like that. Suddenly, someone in the crowd exclaimed, “They’re a perfect match! Elliott and Elle are made for each other.” “Right? Not like that Vera,” another voice sneered. “She occupied the role of the Vanderbilt family heiress for years, but she was always just a cheap fake. Even in death, she’s considered bad luck.” Elle, on the stage, seemed to hear my name. She paused, a faint, contemptuous smile playing on her lips. It’s true, I thought with a self-deprecating pang. I had stolen twenty years of her privileged life. She had every right to mock me. But then, Elle looked directly into the camera. “Actually,” she said, her voice clear and bright, “I have Vera to thank for something.” “She prepared a wedding gift for us.” A gift? From me? My spectral form froze mid-air. I didn’t know anything about a gift. Before I could even process it, the crowd erupted. “She’s dead! What kind of stunt is this? So manipulative!” “She was arrogant and cruel in life, and now she wants to disgust us from beyond the grave!” “She was so vicious. It’s probably a curse or something.” My mother’s face turned ashen. She shot to her feet. “She spent her whole life trying to steal everything from Elle! Why would she send a gift?!” “Throw it out! Get rid of it! We can’t let something so unlucky tarnish Elle’s wedding!” Elliott frowned, waving a dismissive hand. “Forget it. Let’s not even look. It can’t be anything good. Let’s just continue with the ceremony.” But Elle held up a hand, silencing the uproar. “Really? I, for one, would like to see what she sent.” My parents tried to object, but Elle had already opened the gift box. Inside was a thick journal. I recognized it. It was mine. But… hadn’t my parents burned all of my belongings? How did it end up here? Before I could dwell on it, Elle picked up the journal and began to read aloud. February 1st, 2024. The real daughter of the Vanderbilt family, Elle, is back. She’s dark and thin, and so timid. Mom and Dad said she suffered a lot out there, that I have to let her have her way in everything from now on. As she read, an image appeared on the massive screen behind her. It was Elle, wearing a faded plaid shirt and worn-out jeans. I had secretly taken that photo, hiding in a corner. Her hair was dry and yellowed, her eyes hollow. She was a world away from the radiant woman on the stage today. Elliott tore off his tie. “Turn it off! Who authorized this? The past is the past! Elle isn’t like that anymore!” “Exactly!” someone in the crowd chimed in. “Vera was so calculating! To keep such an ugly photo!” “So she resented Elle from the very first day she came back?” “It makes sense now! All the terrible things Vera did to Elle later on… it was all premeditated!” Hearing this, my parents’ anger boiled over. “If I had known she was so vicious,” my mother seethed, “I would have sent her away that very day!” 2 Their words were a bitter cocktail in my soul. To think a single photograph could brand me so vile. Elle paused, then continued reading. But she doesn’t seem to hate me. She wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans and reached out to shake my hand, but I pulled away. She froze, asking in a small voice if I didn’t like her. I was about to answer when Mom and Dad’s scolding exploded in my ears. Mom said, “It’s Elle’s first day back. Can you please drop the princess act for one second?” Dad said, “Do you have any idea what Elle has been through for the past twenty years? If it weren’t for the mix-up at the hospital, you would be the one who suffered!” I was stunned. Just the night before, they had promised that even with Elle back, they would still love me like their own daughter. I guess all it took was me not shaking her hand for them to reveal their true feelings. But… I only did it because I saw the calluses on her hands. I was afraid she would feel self-conscious. As she read that last line, a flicker of something—confusion? recognition?—crossed Elle’s face. She bit her lower lip. My mother, realizing what was being read, looked up sharply. “I… I might have said that. But she became so unreasonable later, I had to…” “If she was really thinking of Elle’s feelings, why didn’t she explain herself then? It sounds like she’s just making excuses for herself after the fact!” My father wrapped an arm around her, comforting her. “It’s over now. She’s dead. Her debt is paid.” Elliott frowned, cutting in. “It’s obvious she didn’t want to accept Elle. She was probably just scared of losing her position in the family!” Elle smiled faintly, saying nothing. She turned to the next page. March 15th, 2024. The page was accompanied by a photo of Elliott, kneeling on the ground, tying my shoelace. Elliott came to see me today. The first words out of his mouth were that he wanted to break off our engagement. He said now that the real heiress was back, his family couldn’t possibly let him marry a fake. But he used to tell me he wanted to marry me only because he loved me. Twenty years of knowing each other… was it all meaningless compared to a simple accident of birth? Why did he change the moment Elle came back? I ran after him, wanting to demand an explanation. But I overheard him on the phone with a friend. “Vera’s just a cheap knock-off,” he was saying. “She actually thinks she’s something special.” “She was fun to play with, but for a marriage alliance, you need the real thing.” The friend on the other end must have said something, because Elliott burst out laughing. “Yeah, it is a shame, though.” “Five years together, I treated her so well, and she wouldn’t even let me touch her. Acting like some untouchable ice queen.” “But that Elle… she looks like she’d be an easy catch.” So I finally learned. All his past devotion was a lie. It hurts so much. I thought about telling Mom and Dad. But whenever I brought up Elliott’s name, they assumed I was trying to steal him from Elle again. They never gave me a chance to speak. What about Elle, then? I can’t just watch her marry a scumbag like him, can I? But would she even believe me? Elle paused, her eyes darting toward Elliott. He swallowed hard, then blustered, “She must have been jealous that you were going to marry me! She just made all that up!” Elliott’s parents shot to their feet. “If my son really said those things,” his mother roared, “then how do you explain Vera drugging my son, trying to climb into his bed?” Whispers erupted from the crowd. “That’s right! On Elle’s birthday, Vera drugged Elliott’s drink, then had the gall to demand he marry her the next day! She can’t wash that stain away!” Elle nodded slowly. “Yes. Why would she do that?” 3 She turned the page. May 20th, 2024. Today is mine and Elle’s birthday. But Mom and Dad seem to have forgotten about me. They only bought one cake, for Elle. I’m not angry, though. It’s just cake. I don’t even like it. Elle must have seen me standing in the corner. She brought me a slice and said, “Happy birthday, sister.” I pretended to be disgusted and pushed it away. But my heart was pounding. I wanted so badly to wish her a happy birthday, too. Even so, she just smiled and said it was okay. In that moment, I thought she really was an angel. No wonder so many people love her. Later, I saw Elliott slip some powder into her drink. There was no time. Elle was about to drink it. I lunged forward, snatched the glass from her, and drank it all myself. I had just breathed a sigh of relief when Mom rushed over and slapped me across the face. I fell to the floor, but she was still fussing over Elle, asking if she was alright. Me… But Mom, why didn’t you ask me why I did it? In the end, Mom chose not to believe me. She had someone lock me in my room. I don’t know how much time passed. I was dizzy, I couldn’t even stand up straight. Through the haze, I saw Elliott. He pushed me onto the bed, his face a mask of fury. “I was so close to getting Elle, and you had to ruin it! “Since you’re so desperate, I’ll take care of you tonight!” I wanted to fight back. But then a thought crossed my mind. If this happened… could I force Elliott to marry me? Would that keep Elle safe? So, I stopped resisting. Later, I was woken by a splash of cold water. Elliott looked at me with disgust. “Why did you drug me?! And you dared to lie and say you were Elle! You made me…” “But you can forget it. My heart belongs only to Elle.” Mom and Dad wouldn’t listen to my explanation either. They pointed at me, shouting, “You filthy thing! To think you’d use such low-life tricks to stop Elle from marrying into the Willis family!” “Get out of our house! Go back to your real family! You are not welcome here anymore!” I thought being forced like that was the most painful thing in the world. I was wrong. This, right here, was worse. As Elle’s voice faded, someone in the crowd stammered, “So… it was Elliott who drugged the drink? Vera was just trying to save Elle?” “Vera was framed?!” Elliott frantically waved his hands. “Nonsense! She’s delusional! It’s all in her head!” I saw my parents, frozen in their seats, their lips trembling. “Elle… Elle was going to marry Elliott anyway…” my mother whispered, her voice cracking. “It was inevitable. So what if it happened?” “But Vera, that ungrateful wolf! She only wanted to stay in this family for the money!” Elle let out a small, bitter laugh. “For the money?” She turned the page. I didn’t have time to feel wronged. I fell to my knees, begging them not to send me back. There was only my eighty-year-old grandfather there. He couldn’t even afford to buy Elle a decent dress. What could he possibly give me? I really don’t want to go back. Hearing this, my mother seemed to find validation in her own words. A look of relief washed over her face. My father’s expression remained stony. “Vera is a gold-digger. All the kindness we showed her was wasted!” The online comments flooded the screen. “Even if your grandfather is poor, he’s still your family! Calling you an ungrateful wolf is right!” “So disgusted by your own family? Did you ever think that’s the life you were supposed to have?” Elle’s grip on the journal tightened. “Then why was she so desperate for money? Let’s keep reading.” August 9th, 2024. I can’t hold on much longer. I asked Mom and Dad for twenty thousand. Mom asked with disgust where all my allowance went. I told her the truth. I gave it all to Grandpa. She scoffed. “Stop pretending. You didn’t even want to go back to him, and you expect me to believe you sent him money?” “Unlike you, my Elle has been quietly helping him this whole time. Don’t tell me you’re trying to steal credit for that, too?” In that moment, I knew. No matter what I said, Mom would never believe me. When did things get like this? I don’t know. But… I don’t have much time left to live anyway. If the cancer didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t have asked. I hope Grandpa never finds out about me. Elle once said he was a good, good man. If he knew, he would probably move heaven and earth to save me. I don’t want that. He’s already so old. It’s so hard. Forget it. I’ll never ask again. Finally, someone in the audience realized the gravity of what Elle was reading. “Did you say… Vera? Cancer?!” “So she didn’t want to go back to not be a burden on her grandfather?!” The live chat exploded, with people starting to defend me. At her table, my mother clutched her chest and shot to her feet. “She… she did say she wasn’t feeling well… but…” Elliott’s parents had had enough. “That’s it! This is a wedding! Why are we talking about a dead person?” Elliott’s father boomed. Elliott tried to take Elle’s hand, to stop her from reading. But she pulled away from his touch, her eyes red as she looked at my mother. There was a hint of mockery in her voice. “Don’t you want to know what she went through? Why she became the person she was?” My mother choked back a sob and sank back into her chair. “What does it matter now… She was just…” Elle took a deep breath. “Then let’s continue. Let’s see how Vera changed.”

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My sister-in-law and I married into this family on the same day, but from the moment we walked through the door, my mother-in-law favored me. She cooked me king crab for every meal and prepared exquisite, handmade green pastries for me daily, while my sister-in-law, Christina, never got a single bite. I tried talking to her about it again. “Mom, this isn’t fair to Christina. It’s going to cause problems in the family.” And it had. Christina had gotten into a huge fight with her over it, smashing half the things in the living room. My mother-in-law just scoffed. “I don’t care about her! Someone like her wouldn’t even get a scrap from my table if she was starving!” She never changed. Every meal, the best food was always mine. But what was strange was that Christina stopped complaining. In fact, she started acting as if her mother-in-law was her own mother. Then, one day, I overheard their conversation. I realized they had formed an alliance, a united front against a common enemy. And that enemy was me. 1 “Honey, time to eat!” My mother-in-law, all smiles, brought a tray of fragrant dishes into my room. “Mom, I don’t want any more crab. I’d rather just eat downstairs with everyone else. It’s not right, getting special treatment like this.” Ever since I got married, she had served every single one of my meals in my room, treating me like a princess and herself like a handmaiden. I’d told her countless times she didn’t have to, but she never listened. “No, no, you eat here,” she insisted, her smile never wavering. “The dining room downstairs is damp and gloomy. Your room gets the best light.” “The dampness is bad for a woman’s health. And it’s not king crab today, I made you something different. I guarantee you’ll love it!” She was right. My room was the sunniest in the house. Christina had thrown a massive fit over this very room when we first moved in. “Why do they get the biggest, sunniest room? You’re so biased! I guess you won’t be needing us to take care of you when you’re old!” Christina had sobbed, her eyes swollen and red. My mother-in-law, far from placating her, had scolded her right back. “Is that any way for an older sister to behave? You’re the elder, she’s the younger. Did your teachers not teach you about sharing? This is my house! You have no right to demand anything!” “You have no manners at all!” That had been the last straw for Christina. She had lunged at my mother-in-law, and in the ensuing scuffle, she’d knocked out one of her teeth. I had suggested to my husband, Patrick, that we move out to ease the tension, but my mother-in-law had cried so hysterically that we couldn’t bring ourselves to leave. My relationship with Christina was, to put it mildly, strained. To protect the bond between my husband and his brother, I had constantly urged Patrick to help his brother out at work. Snapping back to the present, I looked at the food she’d brought. Stuffed green peppers, sautéed greens, and fish. No king crab, finally. But after one bite of the stuffed pepper, my sensitive palate detected it immediately. It wasn’t ground meat inside. It was crabmeat. She had tried to mask the taste with a mountain of spices, but I could still tell. I flushed the entire meal down the toilet. When she came to collect the dishes and saw the empty plates, she was beaming. “Good girl, my sweet girl. It’s good that you ate. My most important job right now is taking care of you.” Everyone said my mother-in-law favored me because my family was wealthy. She was sucking up to me, afraid I’d leave. I thought so too, at first. But then I realized that her kindness was a velvet glove hiding an iron fist. Her motives were far from what they seemed on the surface. 2 That evening, when I got home from work, Christina happily announced that she was pregnant. My brother-in-law, Andrew, was ecstatic. “Mom, Christina’s pregnant! You have to take good care of her now!” For once, my mother-in-law looked genuinely pleased. “Of course, don’t worry. You’re both my daughters-in-law. I’ll dote on both of you.” Just then, Christina caught the scent of durian. “Mom, I’m craving durian,” she said, her eyes lighting up. Without a word, my mother-in-law went and got the fruit, pried it open, and handed the largest, most succulent piece to me. “Honey, fruit is good for you. You said you wanted durian yesterday, so I went out and bought it especially for you. Here, eat up!” I glanced at Christina, expecting an explosion. The old Christina would have flipped the table and started screaming. But this new Christina just smiled sweetly. “You have the big piece, Nina. I just need a little bite to satisfy my craving.” I didn’t take the fruit. I gave my mother-in-law a faint smile. “I don’t feel like it, Mom. I don’t have much of an appetite. I think I’ll just go upstairs and rest.” A few minutes later, she came up to my room, trying to coax me. “Honey, are you upset? Don’t worry, in my heart, you’re the most important one!” “Even if she’s pregnant, she can’t compare to a single finger of yours! From now on, you’re my real daughter!” I forced a smile and said nothing. An hour later, I went downstairs for a glass of water and overheard my mother-in-law whispering to Christina in her room. “Christina, my dear, I’m sorry you have to put up with this. I have no choice. Nina was spoiled rotten growing up.” “We have to think about the bigger picture. Just remember, you and Andrew are the ones who truly matter to me.” “For the sake of our family’s future, for your little family, we have to stick together against the outsider!” I’d heard this exact speech a few days ago. The initial shock had worn off. It had even made me wonder if my own husband, Patrick, wasn’t her biological son. That would explain her two-faced behavior. But Patrick and his brother looked like they were cast from the same mold, and they both strongly resembled their late father. Still, to be certain, I decided to secretly arrange a DNA test for Patrick and his mother. The next day, Andrew had a sudden relapse of an old illness and was hospitalized. He’d had leukemia as a child but had made a full recovery after timely treatment. Now, it was back, and he needed a hematopoietic stem cell transplant. Patrick, without a second thought, offered to be the donor. The series of tests that followed confirmed what I already suspected: my husband and Andrew were full biological brothers. The surgery was a success. My mother-in-law cried until her eyes were nearly swollen shut. She only started to recover after both brothers were discharged. She clasped my hand and Patrick’s, her voice thick with gratitude. “You are good children. You saved your brother’s life. I was right to favor you all along.” I didn’t expose her charade. I wanted to see how long she could keep up the act. As I was leaving, she reminded me, “Honey, don’t forget to take your vitamins. I’m just waiting for you to get pregnant, too. I’ll take care of the baby for you.” I glanced at the bottle of vitamins on my nightstand. She had bought them for me, making a point to tell me she had picked the most expensive brand. Patrick wrapped his arms around me, beaming. “See? It’s love for me, overflowing to you. She’s always favored me, and now she favors you. And now that I’ve saved my brother, Christina shouldn’t have any more issues with us.” I gave a weak smile and didn’t reply. 3 My mother-in-law’s blatant favoritism continued. Late in Christina’s pregnancy, my mother-in-law came down with a high fever. Even then, she ordered Christina to cook for me. “Christina, make Nina something she likes. And fry up some celery for her.” Christina, heavily pregnant, could barely move. Even walking a few steps left her breathless. “Mom,” she pleaded, “how about I just order some takeout for Nina? I’m so heavy now, and I can’t stand the smell of cooking oil.” My mother-in-law considered this for a moment. “Fine. But order her something expensive.” Christina sighed in relief and pulled out her phone. That’s when I spoke up. “I don’t like takeout. I prefer home-cooked meals. They’re cleaner.” Christina shot me a look of resentment, but she bit her tongue. She looked helplessly at my mother-in-law. “Mom…” My mother-in-law was too sick to get out of bed. “Christina, just go cook for her. Takeout really isn’t clean.” So, Christina had no choice but to drag her swollen body into the kitchen. Cooking was an ordeal for her. The smell of oil had made her sick throughout her pregnancy. Just a whiff of it could send her into a fit of violent retching. I secretly watched as my mother-in-law listened to Christina’s agonizing vomiting, her eyes filling with tears of pity. When Patrick came home and found out, he was furious with me. “Nina, what’s gotten into you? Christina is about to give birth! How could you make her cook?” But it was Christina, the same woman who used to despise me, who came to my defense. “Patrick, don’t blame Nina. A little exercise is good for a pregnant woman.” My mother-in-law chimed in as well. “You dare raise your voice to Nina? Don’t you dare bully my sweet girl!” Patrick just muttered that the whole family was spoiling me rotten. Only I knew the truth. They were trying to kill me with kindness. Christina eventually gave birth to a healthy baby boy. My mother-in-law was overjoyed, setting off firecrackers for three days straight. Patrick gave his nephew a $50,000 gift. “Your uncle is the one who loves you the most,” Christina cooed. Patrick was far more successful than his brother. Andrew was just a regular employee making $6,000 a month. But Patrick was a general manager at his company, with an annual salary of over half a million dollars, and he owned his own house and car, fully paid off. Over the years, he had helped Andrew out in countless ways, both seen and unseen. After the baby was born, my mother-in-law and Christina became even nicer to me. They took turns bringing my meals to my room. One day, Christina’s baby was crying inconsolably, and it was getting on my nerves. “Can’t someone just shut him up?” I grumbled. “It’s driving me crazy.” To my horror, my mother-in-law actually took a piece of tape and sealed the baby’s mouth. Right in front of me, she scolded the infant. “I told you to be quiet! What are you crying for? If you dare disturb your aunt again, I’ll beat you, even if you are my grandson!” “In this house, no one is more important than your aunt!” I was stunned. I had just been venting, and she had taken it to this extreme. Patrick rushed over and ripped the tape off the baby’s mouth. The infant’s face, red as a balloon about to pop, contorted as he let out a raw, hoarse scream. He turned on me. “What’s your problem, arguing with a baby? The whole family spoils you, and you take it for granted. Nina, can’t you stop being so entitled?” Before I could say a word, my mother-in-law slapped Patrick across the face. “Don’t you dare talk to Nina like that!” she warned him sternly. Patrick, furious, stormed out of the house. My mother-in-law immediately started apologizing to me, begging me not to be angry with him. Christina and Andrew spent the rest of the evening calling him, trying to smooth things over. The incident was quickly forgotten. One weekend, my mother-in-law came in with a plate of pastries and found me clutching my chest, dry-heaving. “My sweet girl, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. “Did you eat something bad?” “I’ll take you to the hospital.” I took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eye. “It’s not food poisoning. I’m pregnant.” Shock flashed across her face, but she quickly masked it with a smile. “That’s wonderful news! What are you craving? I’ll make it for you.” “Don’t bother. I’m going to my mother’s to be taken care of. I’ll come back after the baby is born.” The smile vanished from her face. “Don’t trouble your mother,” she urged. “I’ll take care of you. I promise I’ll take the best care of you.” I insisted on going to my parents’ house. She didn’t argue further, but her expression was grim. A short while later, Patrick burst through the door, his face a mask of fury. Without a word, he marched over and slapped me hard across the face. “Tell me!” he roared. “Whose bastard is it?” Before I could react, he grabbed my throat, his eyes blazing with a murderous rage. My mother-in-law rushed over, her voice dripping with false concern. “Nina, honey, listen to Mom. Just get rid of this baby, and you and Patrick can go back to how things were. Okay?” I wrenched myself free from Patrick’s grip. “What gives you the right to say this child isn’t yours?” I demanded. Patrick hesitated, as if struggling with a painful secret, but then he spat it out. “I was diagnosed with infertility six months ago! Nina! You cheated on me, didn’t you?” A cold smile touched my lips. “I’ll only say this once. This child is yours.” My mother-in-law, who had somehow procured a bowl of abortion-inducing herbs, approached me, her voice syrupy sweet. “Good girl, just drink this and get rid of the baby. I’ll make Patrick forgive you. You can still have a good life together!” I took the bowl from her. A look of relief washed over her face. But in the next second, I smashed the bowl on the floor. “I’m done with you and your family!” I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm, her face transforming into a mask of cold fury. “You can’t have that child! It’s a bastard! If you give birth to it, where will my son hide his face?” “I’m divorcing him!” I screamed, shaking her off. Seeing my resolve, she finally dropped the act. Her face was hard as she ordered Patrick, “Call her parents! Since she wants a divorce, she’s the one at fault. She has to compensate you. Her family needs to know about this scandal!” “If we can’t handle this privately, then we’ll let the whole world know she’s carrying another man’s child!” I smiled, a genuine, triumphant smile. This was exactly what I wanted. But I wasn’t the one who was about to be humiliated. I was going to bring their whole house of cards crashing down. I was going to ruin them, expose them, and tear them apart.

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The robotics competition reached its climax as my daughter Zoe prepared to accept the grand prize. Suddenly, a lavishly dressed woman stood. “This school has a rule,” she declared arrogantly. “A five-million-dollar donation earns ten extra points. This card has five million—the trophy now belongs to my son!” The auditorium fell silent. After a stunned pause, the headmaster nodded. Zoe trembled onstage. “But…I’m the real winner!” Her rival, Caden, sneered. “Try all you want, Zoe Locke. My dad’s loaded. The research lab internship? Mine now.” Tears filled Zoe’s eyes. I took her hand and smiled at the smug duo. “Five million on that card?” I asked pleasantly. “Shall we verify it?” Renee Kauffman nodded proudly. “Of course! My husband has endless money.” My smile deepened. That card? A supplementary on my account—the allowance for my kept husband. 1 Renee shot me a dismissive glance and handed the card to the school’s administrator with a flourish. Someone in the crowd gasped. “Is that… an Obsidian Black Card? You only get one of those with a nine-figure net worth verification!” “Oh my god, Caden’s family must be top-tier elite!” Renee basked in the chorus of awe, her eyes sweeping over the crowd with undisguised superiority. Then, her gaze, a mixture of pity and scorn, landed on Zoe. “Little girl, if you want to blame someone, blame your parents for not being able to cough up five million dollars. No matter how hard you commoners work, you’re just stepping stones for us.” Zoe’s face flushed a deep red. “That’s not fair!” she cried out. “I won first place!” She had loved artificial intelligence her whole life. She’d spent three years preparing for this competition, and the internship was her absolute dream. Murmurs rippled through the parents in the audience. “That’s just cruel to the child,” someone whispered. “But that’s how it works with the super-rich, especially at a private international school like this. Money is power. There’s no such thing as ‘fair’ when you’re up against that kind of privilege. It’s a lesson she has to learn.” Even the headmaster shook his head at Zoe. “Rules are rules, my dear.” Caden’s grin widened into a triumphant sneer. “See? I told you, Zoe, you could never beat me. So what if you’re talented? All your hard work is worthless in front of my family’s money!” He turned to his mother. “Mom, can I go get my prize now?” Renee shot me a victorious look. “Of course, darling.” Zoe’s face crumpled, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she muttered defiantly, over and over, “I won first place… I won first place…” My heart ached for her, but I also felt a dark amusement. I leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes widened in shock. “Mom, are you serious?” I gave her a small nod. “Just watch.” Just as Caden was strutting toward the stage, the administrator hurried back, his face pale. “Mrs. Kauffman,” he stammered. “This card… it’s been locked. It’s unusable!” Renee’s brow furrowed. “What? That’s impossible!” she snapped. “You provincials probably don’t know how to use it!” The administrator, looking helpless, simply held the card reader out to her. She swiped it herself. A crisp, mechanical female voice echoed through the silent auditorium: “Your card has been declined.” “How can that be?” Renee stumbled back a step, her face a mask of disbelief. A few parents in the crowd couldn’t hold back their snickers. “Mrs. Kauffman, did you… find that card on the street?” “If you don’t have the five million, why put on the big show? Aren’t you embarrassed?” Renee’s face was a mottled mess of anger and humiliation. She snatched the card and swiped it again. And again. “Your card has been declined!” “Your card has been declined!” The whispers grew into open laughter and jeers. Caden started to panic. “Mom, what’s going on? I want my prize!” I watched Renee’s meltdown for a moment longer before stepping forward. “Well,” I said with a serene smile, “since it appears Mrs. Kauffman can’t produce the five million, I suppose the first-place prize still belongs to my daughter.” The storm clouds on Zoe’s face instantly cleared. She shot me a quick wink and started to walk toward the awards table. “Wait!” Renee’s voice was sharp. “There might be a problem with the card, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get the money. That prize belongs to my son, and that’s final.” Her eyes, now dark and venomous, were fixed on me. She pulled out her phone and made a call. A moment later, I heard the familiar voice of my husband, Lex, on the other end. 2 After she hung up, Renee’s arrogance returned in full force. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said, beaming at her son. “No one is taking this prize from you today. It’s yours!” She shot me a look of pure defiance. I let out a cold, quiet laugh. Just now, Renee and Lex had put on a sickeningly sweet display of affection over the phone, their lovey-dovey talk loud enough for everyone to hear. A moment later, my own phone rang. It was Lex. He didn’t even say hello, just barked orders at me. “Nina, what the hell is wrong with the card I gave you? Call the bank and unlock it right now. And while you’re at it, raise the limit to fifty million!” My voice, in contrast, was perfectly calm. “What do you need that much money for?” “For business, for entertaining clients! Stop asking stupid questions and just do it!” I lowered my gaze, hiding the icy storm gathering in my eyes. I have been the silent, unseen power behind the Stellar Group for over a decade. Anyone who truly knows me knows that my current calm is a signal—a sign that someone was about to face utter ruin. How utterly pathetic. A kept husband, a man living off my family’s name, daring to keep a mistress under my nose and order me around. It seemed my kindness had allowed him to forget who was master and who was the pet. When I didn’t respond immediately, Lex sent a few angry voice messages and then went silent. It was Renee who made the next move. She held up her phone, displaying her banking app for all to see. The balance: a perfect $5,000,000.00. She wore a prim, polite smile, but her eyes were blazing with smug triumph. “There, Headmaster. Satisfied? As I said, five million is nothing to a family like ours. Fifty million would be just a drop in the bucket. Not like those people who live off a fixed salary, who have to pinch pennies just to scrape together a few thousand.” She threw a pointed look in my direction, then turned to Zoe with a look of feigned sympathy. “Little girl, better luck in the next life. Maybe you’ll be born into the right family, and you won’t have to watch someone snatch away everything you’ve worked so hard for.” Zoe just smiled sweetly at Renee. “Auntie, what’s mine, no one can take away!” I stepped forward, my own smile unwavering. “That’s right. What belongs to my daughter, no one can take.” “It’s only five million, after all.” The well-meaning headmaster hurried over to me. “Mrs. Locke, please,” he whispered urgently. “Five million is no small sum. To them, it’s the price of a handbag, but for a normal family, it’s a fortune. This internship is a great opportunity, but don’t bankrupt yourself and your husband over it.” Other parents chimed in, urging me not to act on pride. The sycophants, however, took the opportunity to sneer. “How much could she possibly make in a year? Trying to play big shot like the truly wealthy. She’s going to lose her house over this!” “Some people just have to put on a show, even when they’re completely out of their league!” It was my own fault, I suppose. I’d always taught Zoe the importance of being low-key. As far as anyone here knew, we were a typical working-class family who had gotten into this elite school on the back of Zoe’s academic merit alone. I glanced around at the jeering sycophants, a mental Rolodex of their employers and business connections instantly forming in my mind. Oh yes, I had plans for them. I turned back to the headmaster with a polite smile. “I’ll do as Mrs. Kauffman did. I’ll wire the money directly to the school’s account.” Ding! A notification sound echoed from the headmaster’s phone. “Five million dollars has been received!” The area fell silent for a beat, and then someone shouted, “Holy hell! Zoe’s mom actually did it! She sent five million dollars!” Renee’s face darkened. She furiously tapped at her own phone. A second later, another mechanical voice rang out. Ding! “Ten million dollars has been received!” The crowd erupted. Jaws dropped. “Ten million?! Is she insane?” “You don’t get it! This is what real power looks like! Mrs. Kauffman is the real deal, you have to respect that!” After three massive donations in as many minutes, the headmaster was visibly sweating. Caden puffed out his chest. “My mom’s the best!” Renee preened under the renewed wave of praise, stroking her son’s hair. “Don’t you worry, my love. Your father said that whatever you want, he’ll support you, no matter the cost. What’s ten million dollars to us?!” Indeed, what was ten million dollars? A kept husband using my money to prop up his mistress and bully my daughter. The sheer, unadulterated nerve. I was suddenly curious. Just how far would Lex go for this woman and her child? And how much money had he managed to siphon off behind my back? Under Renee’s triumphant gaze, I spoke, my voice calm and even. “Twenty million.” 3 Every eye in the room swiveled to me, wide with disbelief. “Has Zoe Locke’s mom lost her mind? Where would she get twenty million dollars?!” Renee gritted her teeth. “Talk is cheap…” Before she could finish her sentence, the now-familiar sound cut through the air. Ding! “Twenty million dollars has been received!” My smile widened. “I don’t mind contributing to a worthy educational cause. Do you want to keep going? I can do this all day.” “Oh my god, the Locke family is not what they seem! Who knew!” The headmaster wiped his brow again, a look of ecstatic glee breaking through his professional demeanor. He turned to Renee. “Mrs. Kauffman, do you wish to raise your donation?” The light in Renee’s eyes faded, replaced by a cold, calculating darkness. She whipped out her phone and called Lex again. A few moments later, the triumphant smirk was back. She deliberately unfolded her high-end foldable phone, making sure everyone got a good look at her lock screen. Someone with sharp eyes shouted, “That man on her screen… that’s Lex Astor! The CEO of the Stellar Group! My God, he’s Caden’s father!” “Look, it’s a family picture of the three of them! I can’t believe it! The man famous for being a brilliant, ruthless businessman can look so sweet and happy.” “Well, that’s it for Zoe Locke. No matter how much money her mom has, no one in this city is more powerful than the Stellar Group!” One of the kinder parents pulled me aside again, her voice urgent. “Mrs. Locke, stop. Please, just let it go. Everyone in this city knows you don’t cross the Stellar Group. If you make an enemy of them, you’ll be ruined. You’ll lose everything!” Renee strode towards me, her chin held high. “I was trying to be discreet,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “But some people are just blind. Now you see, don’t you? You might have a few dirty dollars, but to a truly elite family like ours, you are nothing.” I raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying your husband is Lex Astor, the CEO of the Stellar Group?” “Mom, but that’s…” Zoe started to blurt out, but I gently squeezed her hand and gave her a subtle wink. She understood immediately and fell silent. Renee, too absorbed in the fawning admiration of the crowd, didn’t notice our exchange. She nodded at me haughtily. “Now you’re scared. As you should be.” She then gave me a malicious smile. “You’ve offended me today. But I’m a magnanimous person. If you and your daughter get on your knees right now, in front of everyone, and bow to me and my son three times, I’ll tell my husband to let this go.” “Otherwise,” she purred, “my husband will bankrupt your family.” “And you, little girl,” she said, turning to Zoe, “you can forget about robotics competitions. You won’t even be able to afford to go to school!” “You are the most shameless person I’ve ever met!” Zoe snapped, and then she spat right in Renee’s face. Caden, seeing this, lunged at Zoe. “You little bitch! I’ll kill you for spitting on my mom!” My expression turned to ice. In a flash, I moved between them and shoved Caden hard. He tumbled to the ground with a shriek. “Mom! My knee! It’s bleeding, it hurts so bad!” Renee shot me a look of pure hatred. Seeing the bloody gash on Caden’s knee, her eyes became terrifying. “This isn’t over,” she snarled. “My husband is on his way. The Stellar Group’s legal team is no joke. You and your daughter will spend the rest of your lives in prison!” I raised an eyebrow. Well, that saved me the trouble of getting Lex here myself. My executive assistant and my top legal counsel were already en route with divorce papers and Lex’s termination letter. Today was the day this cheating scum would meet his end. The sycophants, hearing that Lex himself was coming, rushed to Caden’s side, fussing over him and shooting me venomous looks. Their taunts grew viler by the second. “Peasants never learn. You can’t handle the wrath of a man like Mr. Astor! Get ready to lose everything!” “You can quit school now, Zoe. Go join your mother picking through trash cans!” “Trash cans? Don’t be silly. Spreading her legs for men is a much faster way to make money! Hahaha!” Just then, a black Porsche Cayenne sped to a halt at the school gate. “That’s a Stellar Group executive car!” someone yelled. “Mr. Astor is such a good husband and father! He got here so fast! The Locke woman and her daughter are finished!” The crowd’s hostility was a palpable thing, their eyes like vultures circling. Renee’s face was twisted in a mask of manic, victorious glee. “You bitch!” she hissed at me. “My husband is here! Your time is up!”

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My mother is the self-aware protagonist in one of those novels about a middle-aged woman finding herself. I discovered this fact at the precise moment I was at the county clerk’s office, finalizing my divorce from the “perfect catch” she’d picked out for me years ago. A strange, frantic voice screamed in my head, distracting me for a split second. The man beside me, my soon-to-be-ex, let out a sneer. “It’s a little late for regrets, Missi. The only way you’re stopping this now is if you get on your knees and beg.” I ignored him, signing my name with a firm, steady hand. The voice in my head stopped screaming. Then, in a tone as cold and flat as a frozen lake, it said: Your mother doesn’t want you anymore. You and your father—she’s abandoned you both. Fine by me, I thought. I hope you mean it. 1. Three months after the divorce, I ran into my mother and her new boyfriend at an auto show. I had to admit, she looked years younger than she ever did with my father. She’d cut her hair, completely revamped her wardrobe, and carried herself with a vibrant new energy. Even though our relationship had been strained for years, she was still my mother. Seeing her thrive like this… it made me happy. The noisy voice in my head started its nagging commentary again. “After your mother divorced your father, he let himself go completely. No one to look after him. But look at her! A successful new business, a younger boyfriend. You’re her daughter. If you apologize now, she might still take you back. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like your father.” Hard pass. I was standing near my company’s feature vehicle, drowning in an ill-fitting work polo, and my first instinct was to pretend I hadn’t seen them. Our last conversation hadn’t exactly been a pleasant one. It was the day I told her I’d signed the divorce papers. She’d been so furious she’d swept my dinner right off the table. “I come home and cook for you myself, and this is the thanks I get? I’m your mother, Missi! Can’t you show me a little consideration?” “My consideration for you and my need for a divorce are two separate things,” I’d said, my expression admittedly cold. I didn’t know how else to look at her as she angrily cleaned up the mess she’d made. “Besides, I told you we could eat out. Or Maria was here. You could have just let her cook.” My mother rarely cooked. Unless my father was home, our housekeeper, Maria, handled all the meals and chores. She looked up, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you criticizing my cooking?” “No, I just—” I just knew that a home-cooked meal from her always came with strings attached, conditions that would inevitably make me miserable. When I was five, she made me take a cold bath and then call my dad, frantic. When he rushed home from work, she’d met him with an icy glare. “From now on, you are only the father of my child, not my husband. I will still wash your clothes and cook your meals, but that is all.” When I was ten, she made me stand in front of my father’s secretary’s son and brag about how much my dad loved me, how wonderful it was to have a father. I had no idea the boy’s own father had died just days before. I got a black eye for my trouble. When my dad scolded her, she clutched me and wept. “Is it so strange for me to talk about you with our daughter? You’d rather believe a stranger and her child over your own wife and daughter?” When I was sixteen, she sent me out in a blizzard to deliver a special dish to my grandmother’s. No one was home. I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. I had to walk all the way back in the storm. Later, she was on the phone with my father, screaming hysterically. “I don’t care how much your mother hates me! Missi is her own granddaughter! How could she be so cruel?” When I was eighteen, the day before my SATs, she let me eat a mango tart that a “friend” had sent over. I had a severe allergic reaction and spent the night in the ER, almost missing the exam. At my post-exam celebration dinner, she sighed with the air of a deeply wounded woman. “That old flame of yours sent a mango tart for Missi. Neither of us realized. What was she trying to prove? Does she just hate to see me happy?” And when I was twenty-three, she introduced me to her friend’s son, telling me he was a brilliant man, a perfect match, and that marrying him would bring me a lifetime of happiness. My father was a philanderer who didn’t love her. My grandmother was a society matriarch who didn’t accept her. For over twenty years, my mother had told me it was the two of us against the world. I had a father and grandmother who didn’t love me, but I had a mother who loved me most of all. So I listened to her. I trusted her. Until the day her “perfect catch” came home drunk and raised his fist to me. When I told her I wanted a divorce, she said it would only give my grandmother more reasons to criticize her. My philandering father, on the other hand, had only one thing to say: “If it’s not working, leave him. I’ll give you my lawyer. Just for God’s sake, tell your mother to stop bothering me.” I accepted my father’s lawyer. My mother looked at me, her eyes filled with a profound, shattered sense of disappointment. After a long, heavy silence, she took my hand, her touch suddenly gentle. “You are my daughter, and I love you. I gave you three chances.” One, when I accepted my father’s lawyer. Two, when I told her that even she couldn’t force me to stay in a miserable marriage. Three, when I signed the divorce papers. “Listen to me,” she’d said, her voice low as she gathered the broken plates, not even looking at me. “This was the third time.” 2. My relationship with my mother had been deteriorating as I grew older, and it only got worse after I married. So when that voice in my head informed me that my mother, fed up with my lack of understanding, would finally abandon my father and me, I actually felt a sense of relief. It seemed better for both of us. If she could truly live the life the voice described—a life of success, wealth, and love—then I was genuinely happy for her. My attempt to remain unseen was my way of not spoiling her good mood. But she misinterpreted it. She walked over, her new boyfriend on her arm, a man who looked at least a decade her junior. She gave me a long, slow once-over, sighed, and handed me a business card. “I heard you left your job,” she said. “Seeing you like this… I suppose you’ve paid your price. The bond between us is broken, but I’m giving you this out of a last shred of maternal duty. This is the last bit of help you’ll get from me. Since you chose your father, don’t come looking for me again.” I took the card. It was for a recruitment agency. I had a feeling she was deeply mistaken about something, but before I could say a word, she and her boyfriend were already walking away. I overheard him whisper, “Seeing your daughter like that… it must still hurt, doesn’t it?” She laughed softly. “She’s not worth my heartache.” I have to admit, for a fleeting moment, that stung. And right on cue, the voice in my head chimed in. “Your mother is completely disappointed in you now. She’ll never forgive you. But she is ready to make peace with her past, so if you try really hard, you might still be able to get a few words with her!” …Thanks, but no thanks. My mother was right. Our relationship was over. Though I was reluctant to admit it, I’d known for a long time, on some subconscious level, that all her demands on me were designed to mold me into one thing: “my father’s daughter.” And what kind of daughter was I supposed to be? A daughter who was relentlessly cheerful and affectionate, despite being treated with cold indifference by her father. My mannerisms, my speech, even my “hobbies” had all been curated to appeal to his tastes. And still, he was rarely home. But it was true that on the rare occasions he did return, seeing the daughter he’d always wanted, born to the woman he never loved, would stir a flicker of guilt in him. For a few days, he would be kinder to my mother. Now that she’d given up on him, my purpose was obsolete. I watched their retreating backs, a familiar ache rising in my throat. Then, she glanced back over her shoulder. I didn’t have time to compose my expression, and my wistful gaze met hers. And I saw her smile. A smile… of triumph. Of revenge finally served. I knew what she was thinking. But as her daughter, as the lifelong witness to her tragic love story, I couldn’t bring myself to expose her. “It’s too late for regrets now. Your mother has given up on you completely. Even if you burst into tears right this second, it would be useless.” I was suddenly struck by the thought that the voice in my head wasn’t very bright. It didn’t seem to have any idea what I was really thinking. 3. After the auto show wrapped up, my colleague thanked me profusely. “Missi, you’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what we would have done after Leo had his emergency. Thank you so much for covering for him today.” “It’s fine. I needed to be here supervising anyway,” I said, handing him my work polo before heading out. I’d been too busy to check my phone all day. Sitting in my car, I saw over twenty missed calls—some from unknown numbers, some from the landline at my old company. There were also a few texts from a blocked number. Judging by the tone, it was my ex-husband, Leo. “Missi, what the hell did you do? Why did the entire design team just quit? You said YOU were the only one resigning!” I couldn’t be bothered to reply. When I’d resigned, he’d smugly informed me that I was nothing without his company. To avoid a scene, I hadn’t argued. The truth was, I had been running that company for years, especially the design department, which I had built from the ground up. My mother must have given him the confidence to believe that I would be completely lost without him. Just as the voice in my head had predicted: “You ignored your mother’s advice and insisted on divorcing the wealthy and gentle Leo. Now, with your high standards and low abilities, you can’t find a decent job and will eventually have to beg your mother for help…” I deleted the texts, tossed the business card my mother had given me into the trash, and opened my chat with my deadbeat dad. A message from him was waiting: “Be at the family estate Saturday at 8 PM. Your grandmother and I need to talk to you.” Compared to my mother, my father’s attitude towards me was mostly one of indulgent neglect. He’d give me anything I asked for but offered little in the way of actual attention. He just wanted my mother and me to take his money and leave him in peace. My mother could never do that, and I was always the one who paid the price. After all, my father did feel at least a sliver of biological connection to me. I had no real feelings for my father or grandmother, certainly nothing close to what I felt for my mother. But he was my dad, and he had given me a divorce lawyer. I’d go and hear them out. I was swamped with work for the next few days and completely forgot about Leo. As far as I was concerned, he was dead to me. I never imagined he would follow me home after my team’s celebration dinner on Friday night. He trailed me all the way to my apartment, and in the second it took me to register what was happening, he shoved his way inside. “Leo—” “You goddamn bitch, Missi! What did you do? Why is the company losing so much money? Tell me! What dirty tricks did you pull?” He threw me to the ground, and his fists rained down on me. The self-defense classes I’d taken for months were useless against his rage. I struggled to reach for my phone, but he kicked it away. A searing pain shot through my scalp as he grabbed my hair, dragging me across the floor. My chest and thighs scraped raw against the hardwood. “You worthless bitch! You deserve to die! You think a divorce can save you?” The fiery sting on my cheek pierced through my skin, and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears. Through the gaps in my tangled hair, I saw the coffee table getting closer, closer… A sharp impact on my forehead brought a wave of numb clarity. My vision started to turn red. “I’m telling you, killing you is exactly what your mother wants!” I flailed my arms, searching for anything I could use to fight back. My fingers finally closed around something on the table. A lighter. The searing pain of the flame on the back of his neck made him yelp and let go. I scrambled on all fours, found my purse and phone, and fumbled for the small object I knew was inside. Leo staggered to his feet, a crazed grin spreading across his face. “I’m millions in debt, all because of you! Missi, let’s go to hell together!” He lurched toward me, a demon in the dim light. I tightened my grip.

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1 Julian Wheeler sneered, his full weight pressing down on the concrete beam that pinned me. His voice was a shard of ice. “Give me a break, Rosalie. You think I don’t know you? You’ve already found a safe spot. Who do you think you’re fooling with this little act?” He stomped his feet for emphasis, sending a shower of fine, gritty dust raining down on my face. The agony of splintered bone ripped a scream from my throat. I tried to shield my stomach, a futile gesture. I already knew. My baby was gone. Julian pulled his precious Sybil up to stand beside him on the very beam that was crushing me. “The earthquake must have terrified you,” he murmured to her, his voice suddenly gentle. “Don’t worry. I’m here now.” Sybil Bristow, a portrait of tragic beauty, collapsed into his arms. “Julian, darling, I’m so scared,” she sobbed. “The stones… they scratched me. What if I’m scarred? What if you don’t love me anymore?” He kissed away her tears. “Never. No matter what, you’ll always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me.” His eyes flicked back to me, contemptuous. “Unlike this manipulative bitch. Found the perfect angle, didn’t you? Almost looks like you’re really trapped.” He kicked the beam, a deliberate, jarring motion. “Is this what it’s about? Another desperate play for my attention? Just like the first time you threw yourself at me. Well, let me tell you, Rosalie, it won’t work again. The only one for me is Sybil.” Sybil burrowed deeper into his embrace, her voice a watery whisper. “Julian, darling, I was so frightened. And just now… Rosalie… she tried to push—” She let the sentence hang, an open invitation for his imagination to fill in the blanks. But a member of the rescue team, his face tight with fury, cut them off. “Get off of her, now! If you don’t move, you’re going to kill them both—the mother and the child!” Julian laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “A woman like her? She’s better off dead. Does she really think she’s worthy of carrying a Wheeler heir?” And in that moment, nestled in Julian’s arms, Sybil mouthed two words to me, a triumphant smirk on her face. I won. Yes. She had won. I remembered the moment just before the world started to shake. She had leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “Why don’t we play a little game? When the quake hits, who do you think Julian will save first? You, or me?” And then, I felt two distinct pairs of hands shove me from both sides, sending me stumbling into the open… The rescuer’s patience snapped. He was about to shout at them again, to drag them away. But I turned my head, tears finally tracing paths through the grime on my cheeks. “Save her first,” I whispered. As the words left my lips, another tremor shook the ground. This time, Julian scrambled, pulling Sybil off the beam. Another slab of concrete crashed down onto it, right where they had been standing. The impact sent a fresh wave of agony through me. I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound. A warm wetness began to spread beneath me. Julian, standing safely to the side, sneered again. “Wow, you really commit to the part, don’t you? Even got the fake blood packets ready. When you’re done playing, crawl out from under there and beg Sybil for forgiveness. If you don’t, I’ll show you what it feels like to be crushed for real.” I said nothing. As I watched him shield Sybil like a priceless treasure, leading her away from the wreckage, I found I no longer had the energy to fight him. Not anymore. I closed my eyes, shutting them out. A love so skewed was never meant for me. Julian Wheeler, I’m done with you. I let you go. 2 When the rescue team finally lifted my broken, bloody body from the ruins, Julian was still there, watching from the sidelines with a cold, mocking smile. “Bravo,” he drawled. “The performance just keeps getting better. I see you’re using my family’s money on special effects makeup now. So realistic.” The pain was a thick fog, blurring the edges of my consciousness. My vision swam with black spots. My silence only seemed to infuriate him. He strode forward and kicked the side of the stretcher. “Addicted to the act, are you? It’s a damn shame you’re not an actress, Rosalie. Such a waste of talent.” The jolt sent a wave of nausea through me. I could almost hear the grinding of my fragmented bones. It was all I could do not to pass out. The rescue team rushed to intercept him. “What’s your problem?” Julian snarled, shoving back against them. “You’d rather waste your resources on a fraud than on people who actually need help? What unit are you with? I’m filing a complaint!” One of the rescuers, his face red with anger, got right in Julian’s face. “Sir, back the hell off and let us do our job! And if you can’t tell a real injury from a fake one, I suggest you go get your eyes checked!” The insult lit a fuse in Julian. With a roar of fury, he kicked the stretcher again, this time with enough force to flip it completely. “So that’s your game, Rosalie! You’ve hired accomplices now! You think this will make me look at you? That it will earn you an ounce more of my affection than Sybil gets? Dream on!” I hit the rough ground hard. The impact stole my breath, the pain so absolute it was suffocating. But the agony in my body was nothing compared to the shattering of my heart. My own injuries didn’t matter. But my baby… my baby never even got the chance to see the sky. He was only mine for four weeks… Despair, cold and vast, washed over me. My heart felt like it was being physically torn in two. But some primal instinct took over, and I began to crawl, inch by painful inch, away from him. I never want to see you again, Julian. I will never love you again… The rescue team was practically brawling with him now, trying to keep him away from me. Sybil, of course, chose that moment to start her own performance, crying hysterically. “Stop it! Please, stop fighting!” She tugged on Julian’s sleeve, her expression a perfect blend of vulnerability and anguish. “Julian, darling, it’s all my fault. Please don’t blame Rosalie. I… I don’t have her talent for theatrics. It’s my fault everyone looks down on me. I’ll… I’ll even forgive her for pushing me. Just please, make them stop!” Julian’s expression softened instantly. He sighed, stroking her hair. “You’re just too kind, Sybil. That’s why she’s always been able to bully you. You’re the most important person in my world. Who the hell does Rosalie Thorne think she is, hurting you like this?” He turned his furious gaze back to me. “Don’t you worry. This time, I won’t let her get away with it.” He shoved the rescuer aside. “Today, I’m going to show all of you just how far she’ll go for a scrap of my attention!” He grabbed me by my hair, dragging my broken body across the rubble-strewn ground. I was barely conscious, a thin, keening sound escaping my lips, a horrifying trail of blood marking my path. But all I got in return was Julian’s scornful laugh. “Such a dedicated performance, Rosalie. You’re really determined to humiliate me in front of all these people. I gave you a chance. You should have taken it.” He kicked me again, sending me sprawling, then strode toward me. “Today, I’m going to prove to everyone whether you’re really hurt, or just putting on a show!” 3 Just as I thought I was about to die, a furious roar cut through the chaos. “Enough! Are you even human? I’ve never seen a man try to murder his own wife for some woman on the side!” It was the rescue captain. I lay on the ground, a broken heap, and looked up at Julian’s enraged face. My own voice was flat, hollowed out by despair. “Julian, just kill me. Then I’ll never have to see you again.” For a split second, shock flashed in his eyes, quickly consumed by a fresh wave of fury. He lunged, but the rescue team tackled him, restraining him as I turned my head away, tears finally blurring my vision. As darkness closed in, I heard his parting roar. “Are you insane? I knew it! I knew you were faking, you manipulative bitch! You’ve fooled everyone!” “You think I want to see you? Fine! Leave me! Let’s see how long it is before you come crawling back, begging to be let back into the Wheeler family!” A dull, throbbing pain in my heart pulled me back to consciousness. My mind was still fuzzy, but I could hear the hushed chatter of nurses nearby. “Did you see Mr. Wheeler? The CEO of Wheeler Corporation? He and his wife are so in love.” “I know, right? He dotes on her completely. She just got a few scratches in the earthquake, but he’s been running around, making sure everything is perfect, even feeding her medicine himself.” “I’m so jealous! He treats her like a princess. You just don’t find men like that anymore.” I opened my eyes, blinking at the sterile white ceiling. My hand instinctively went to my flat stomach. I didn’t need to ask. I knew. My baby was gone forever. The pain had faded into a dull, consuming numbness. For the first time in my life, I truly craved the release of death. But fate wasn’t done with me. Sybil stormed into the room, her face a mask of smug triumph. “Someone like you, competing with me? Don’t make me laugh. Julian will always love me best.” She leaned closer. “Compared to me, your life is worthless.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, I almost forgot. During the earthquake? Julian was so worried you might hurt me that he personally pushed you out of the way.” If I weren’t paralyzed in this bed, I would have lunged at her and torn her to pieces. Sybil just laughed, a cruel, triumphant sound. Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Sybil heard them too. A sly smile touched her lips. “Remember this, Rosalie. There’s only room for one woman by Julian’s side.” In a flash, she threw herself onto the floor, mussing her hair and forcing out desperate, gasping sobs. “Rosalie, please! I’m begging you, don’t hurt me!” The door flew open and Julian rushed in. Without a word, without a moment’s hesitation, he strode to my bed and slapped me across the face. “I knew it! I knew you were trying to hurt Sybil again! You venomous snake, aren’t you tired of this act?” I couldn’t tell what hurt more—my cheek, my heart, or my broken body. Every part of me was screaming in pain. I looked up at him, my voice devoid of emotion. “I’m paralyzed. How, exactly, could I have hurt her?” Julian’s brow furrowed for a second, before he grabbed me and yanked me out of the bed. “You’re not done acting? What a performance! You’ve even got the hospital staff on your payroll. It seems marrying me has paid off quite well for you, hasn’t it?” My body gave way and I collapsed onto the floor, my head striking the hard tile with a sickening crack. Blood began to well from a new cut. But Julian just grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing my head back so I had to look at him. “Sybil is the victim here, because of you! Now you’re going to get on your knees and apologize!” And with that, he tried to slam my head against the floor.

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After my in-laws died, Lily, my sister-in-law, moved in with her mini pig. But the creature unnerved me—charging when David and I showed affection, gnawing my arm at night. I demanded we get rid of it. Lily erupted: “You want to get rid of me!” David accused me of cruelty, but the pig wasn’t normal. It refused pig feed, gorged on fatty pork, and ballooned to 140 pounds. Worse, it stood on hind legs—its shadow eerily human—and tried stealing my clothes, attacking me if I refused. Finally, I called Uncle Frank, a butcher, to handle it. But before he arrived, I overheard David and Lily whispering—and what I heard shattered my sanity. 1 It started with a car crash that killed my father-in-law. My mother-in-law, unable to bear the grief, took her own life at home a few days later. That left Lily, his younger sister, still in high school and suddenly an orphan. After a long talk, David and I agreed. We’d have her come live with us, enroll her in the local high school. A week later, Lily arrived on our doorstep, clutching a tiny, squirming pig. I was stunned, taking an involuntary step back. “What… what is that?” Lily’s eyes narrowed, her arms tightening around the animal as if she expected me to snatch it away. “It was the only thing Mom left for me.” The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. David rushed to smooth things over, pulling me aside. “Look, Cheryl, you know Lily… she was the one who found Mom. Her head’s not in a good place right now.” He sighed, a deep, weary sound. “She says this pig is her emotional rock, her only anchor.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I saw a fresh spray of white near his temples. The sight tugged at my heart. “Honey, if we separate her from that pig right now…” He let the sentence hang, his meaning clear. “If something else happens… I don’t think I could live with myself.” His logic, twisted as it was, made a sick kind of sense. What if I pushed back and it sent Lily over the edge? I glanced at her, a frail-looking girl clutching a piglet, and my resolve crumbled. Besides, David had promised me. “It’s a mini pig, Cheryl. It’ll never get big. It won’t be any trouble, I swear.” Seeing me relent, Lily’s defensive posture softened. The next day, I took off work to get her enrolled in school. Everything went smoothly. On the way home, I got a call from the pet supply store. The forty-pound bag of premium pig feed I’d ordered had arrived. “Great, please have it delivered,” I said into the phone. “Yes, I’m home now.” I might have been against the idea at first, but if we were going to have a pig, I was going to make sure it was cared for properly. When the feed arrived, I poured a generous amount into a new ceramic bowl. I had just turned to put the heavy bag away when the piglet charged, ramming its head into the back of my knees. I yelped, collapsing onto the floor with a painful thud. A sharp, radiating pain shot up from my tailbone. The piglet, after knocking me down, just snorted, gave me a look of what I could only describe as pure contempt, and trotted away. It was the smug look of a victor. A flash of anger went through me, but I pushed it down. They say pigs are intelligent, spiritual animals, I told myself. It probably knows I didn’t want it here yesterday. This is just its way of getting back at me. I chuckled at my own foolishness, getting into a tiff with a pig. I staggered to my feet, tidied up the remaining feed, and went to lie down. A contract dispute at work had me running on fumes for days, and all I wanted was to sink into a deep, dreamless sleep. I had just drifted off when a sharp, tearing pain jolted me awake. My eyes flew open. The mini pig was on the pillow next to me, methodically chewing on a lock of my hair. “Ahhh!” I screamed, shoving at it, but it was useless. It braced its little legs, its gaze fixed on me with an unnerving, arrogant stillness. The pull on my scalp was agonizing, bringing tears to my eyes. In a panic, I fumbled for the scissors on my nightstand and, with a desperate sob, snipped the hair free. Released from its anchor, the pig tumbled off the bed. It let out two angry grunts, spat the mangled clump of my hair onto the carpet, and then, I swear, it bared its teeth at me in a defiant snarl before waddling out of the bedroom. A cold dread washed over me. This was more than animal instinct. This was malice. And those expressions… they were chillingly human. Driven by a horrible curiosity, I crept to the doorway and peeked out toward its little bed in the corner of the living room. It was staring right back at me. The corner of its snout seemed to be lifted in a grotesque, knowing smirk. My skin crawled. Just then, the front door opened. David was home. I rushed to him, throwing my arms around him, desperate for a bit of warmth and sanity. He held me, confused. “Cheryl? Honey, what happened to your hair?” My voice trembled as I recounted the whole story, how the pig had eaten my hair. But when I finished, his face hardened, and he pushed me away. “Cheryl, I know you’re not thrilled about Lily’s pig,” he said, his voice cold. “But saying it ate your hair? Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous?” He strode past me to the pig’s corner and pointed a disbelieving finger at the ceramic bowl. “And you’re feeding it this?” 2 I followed him, my steps faltering. “What’s wrong with it? It’s pig feed. That’s what pigs eat, right?” David completely ignored me. He scooped up the little pig and carried it into the kitchen. A moment later, I heard the click of the stovetop burner. “What are you doing?” “I’m making it some ramen,” he said without turning around. “It doesn’t eat pig feed. It only eats real food.” He paused. “When Mrs. Gable comes tomorrow, just tell her to make an extra portion at mealtimes.” My mouth fell open. “David, have you lost your mind? It’s a pig! An animal! It’s supposed to eat pig feed!” Suddenly, he whirled around, his face red with fury. “Well, this pig—my sister’s pig—doesn’t eat your damn pig feed!” he yelled. “You’re the sophisticated city girl, you’re so high and mighty! We’re just simple country folk, is that it? We raise our pets on the same food we eat. Are you happy now?” He physically pushed me out of the kitchen and slammed the door in my face. In that split second before the door shut, I saw the pig’s eyes over his shoulder. The look in them was pure, unadulterated triumph. My heart hammered against my ribs, a dull ache spreading through my head. This was the first real fight we’d ever had. I’d imagined us arguing over money, over jobs, over family… but never, not in a million years, over a pig. A few minutes later, David emerged, holding the pig in one arm and a bowl in the other. He carefully set the pig on a dining chair, then began spoon-feeding it the noodles, blowing on each spoonful as if it were a baby. The pig slurped and grunted with satisfaction. As it ate, David’s tone softened. “I’m sorry, Cheryl,” he mumbled, not looking at me. “That was… I was out of line. You know how much pressure I’ve been under lately. I just lost my temper.” Looking at his slumped shoulders, the exhaustion etched on his face from his parents’ deaths and his recent layoff, I felt my anger dissolving into pity. “I… I’m going to go get my hair fixed,” I said, grabbing my purse. “We can talk when I get back.” I headed downstairs, but as I reached the lobby, I ran into Lily, who was just getting home. “Ch-Cheryl,” she stammered, quickly trying to hide something behind her back. But I’d already seen it: three greasy cartons from the barbecue joint down the street. Pork belly. I assumed her furtive movements were because she was afraid I’d scold her for spending money. I forced a smile and transferred a thousand dollars to her account from my phone. “Get yourself whatever you like, Lily. Don’t ever hesitate to ask.” She just nodded silently and hurried past me up the stairs. Watching her retreat, a strange, prickling unease crept over me. I abandoned my trip to the salon and quietly followed her back up. As I reached our apartment door, I heard their voices from inside. “Did you get it?” David asked. “I got it. Cheryl almost saw.” “Good. Let’s give it to her now…” I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The scene that greeted me froze the blood in my veins. David and Lily were both on their knees on the living room floor. Between them, they held up the cartons of glistening pork belly, offering the strips of meat to the pig like a sacrifice. 3 A choked gasp escaped my lips. “What… what in God’s name are you doing?” David scrambled to his feet, his face a mask of panic, while Lily snatched the pig and scurried into her room. “David, it’s eating pork belly? That’s… that’s its own kind!” He shut Lily’s door and rushed to explain, his words tumbling out. “Lily said she wanted to give the pig a special treat, so, I just… I’m sorry, honey. I should have told you. I didn’t mean to scare you.” My hand fluttered to my chest, my heart still racing. The image was just so bizarre, so wrong. But then, a more rational part of my brain took over. Pigs are omnivores. They’ll eat anything. Seeing that I wasn’t going to press the issue, David’s panic subsided, and he leaned in to kiss me. “You were going to get your hair cut, right? Come on, I’ll go with you.” After the haircut, he took me shopping. By the time we got home, it was late. We crept in, assuming Lily was asleep. The moment I stepped inside, my foot caught on something and I went sprawling. David flicked on the lights. It was the pig. It stood there, glaring at me, a low, guttural growl rumbling in its throat. David helped me up, but as soon as I was on my feet, the pig charged again, ramming its snout into my shin. I yelped in pain and hopped back as David pulled me behind him. “Cheryl, just go to bed,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ll handle this.” To be honest, after being tormented by that animal all day, I was terrified of it. I didn’t argue. I just fled to the bedroom. Twenty minutes later, David climbed into bed, looking exhausted. “Is it handled?” “It’s handled.” Relief washed over me. I thought, finally, I could get a peaceful night’s sleep. I was wrong. Pain, sharp and blinding, ripped me from my dreams. “AHHHH!” I screamed. “It’s biting my finger! Oh god, it hurts!” David snapped on the lamp. The pig had my index finger clamped in its jaws, its teeth grinding down. I swatted at its head, but it wouldn’t let go. The harder I hit it, the harder it bit down. David was frozen in shock. The commotion brought Lily running into our room. Thankfully, the pig seemed to listen to her. At her command, it finally released its grip. A chunk of flesh was missing from my finger. Blood dripped onto the white sheets, the floor. “Hospital! We’re going to the hospital now!” We didn’t get back until four in the morning. I was wide awake, the adrenaline and pain erasing any trace of sleep. Lily stood in the living room, clutching the pig, and offered a weak apology. “I’m so sorry, Cheryl. I’ll watch it more carefully from now on. I promise it won’t hurt you again.” I looked past her at the pig. Its snout was still smeared with my blood. Its eyes were half-closed, its head swaying slightly, looking utterly content. Something inside me snapped. “GET IT OUT!” I shrieked. “Get that thing out of my house! I want it gone!” I whirled on David, my voice cracking. “Look at me, David! Look at my hair! Look at my hand! Haven’t I been good enough to this pig? I bought it the best food! And what does it do? It attacks me! You’ve seen it! You’ve seen how much it hates me!” My tirade was met with a loud, theatrical wail from Lily. “I get it!” she sobbed. “It’s not the pig you hate, it’s me! I have no parents, I’m just a burden to everyone! I’ll leave! I’ll just go!” David grabbed Lily with one hand and my arm with the other. “Cheryl! How can you say that?” he demanded. “You’ve always loved animals! Why can’t you tolerate one little pig in your own home?” They were both ganging up on me, painting me as the villain. I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. Before I could even respond, David did the unthinkable. He pulled Lily down to the floor, and they both knelt before me. “Cheryl, honey, please don’t be angry,” he begged, his head bowed. “If that pig ever, ever hurts you again, you won’t even have to ask. I’ll get rid of it myself.” Lily started banging her head on the floor. “Please, Cheryl! Don’t send my pig away! Please!” It was a nightmare. I was being emotionally blackmailed. “Get up!” I yelled, my voice shaking. “Both of you, get up! Fine! I promise! We won’t send it away! But it is never to hurt me again. And it is never allowed in my bedroom!” I turned and stormed back to my room. I didn’t dare look back. I could feel the pig’s eyes on me, and I knew, with absolute certainty, that what I saw in them was pure, unadulterated hatred. 4 In the weeks that followed, the pig still found ways to nip and bite at my arms, but never enough to draw blood. It mostly settled for glaring at me with those hate-filled eyes. As time wore on, its appetite grew, and so did its body. I watched in horrified fascination as its weight ballooned. This was no “mini” pig. Every time I complained to David, he just brushed it off. “We’ve had it this long, Cheryl. We can’t just abandon it now.” “Besides,” he’d add, “it’s not like we don’t have the space. We have that empty guest room, right? We’ll just let it stay in there.” I hesitated, and Lily immediately seized the opportunity, plastering a sweet, pleading look on her face. “Cheryl, you have the biggest heart,” she cooed. “It’s only because of you that he’s grown so big and healthy. We can’t just throw him out on the street now, can we?” I glanced over at the pig, which was devouring its dinner. Its body was now the size of a grown man’s, a mass of thick, fleshy limbs. The only thing that hadn’t grown was its face, which remained eerily small and porcine. “If it were a person,” I joked weakly, “it’d have the perfect metabolism. All the weight goes to the body, never the face.” Between David’s casual dismissal and Lily’s cloying flattery, the pig was moved into the bedroom right next to ours. That night, just as I fell into a deep sleep, I felt a strange pressure on my chest, a tickling at my nose. I fought against a wave of suffocation. My eyes shot open. The pig was sitting on me. Half of its immense weight was crushing my ribs, its tail flicking back and forth, brushing against my face and making me want to sneeze. In the pale moonlight filtering through the window, I watched as it slowly, carefully shifted its weight off the bed. It moved with a stealth that was terrifying for an animal of its size. Clever pig, I thought with a grim, internal laugh. Full of tricks. But then, a cold realization washed over me. The words I was about to use to wake David died in my throat. The pig wasn’t heading for the door. It wasn’t trying to leave the room. So what was it doing? Fighting to keep my breathing even, I watched through half-lidded eyes. It lumbered over to my closet and nudged the door open with its snout. I was paralyzed, watching in disbelief. But what happened next sent a sliver of pure ice through my veins. The pig rose. It stood up on its hind legs, its form silhouetted against the moonlight, and used its front trotters to pull one of my jackets from its hanger. Then, it draped the jacket over its broad shoulders. In the gloom of the bedroom, it stood there like a person, its pig ears twitching with what looked like excitement. I was frozen, the blood in my veins turning to sludge. “What are you doing?” My voice was a choked whisper, but the pig heard me. It didn’t bolt. It didn’t squeal and run. It turned its head, its small eyes fixing on me with raw fury, and then it charged. I screamed, scrambling away, but it was too fast. It lunged, grabbing a fistful of my hair. The bedroom light flashed on. David was there, shouting, his voice a roar of anger. Only then did the pig release me. Clumps of my hair were on the floor. My scalp was on fire, and I could feel a warm trickle of blood from where its tusk had grazed my forehead. David was a whirlwind of frantic apologies, cleaning up the mess, placating me. This time, I said nothing. I just picked up my phone and sent a text to my uncle. Uncle Frank. Come to my house tomorrow. And bring your knives. Whatever this thing was, it was not staying in my house another day.

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1 For ten years, my parents guarded the Northern Marches. When they returned, they brought a saint with them—their adopted daughter. The moment we met, my entire family began to hear her thoughts. On the surface, she was all warmth and affection. But in her mind, a different story unfolded. “My sister, raised in the Capital… she’s never known hardship. Dressed in such finery… she has no idea what real suffering is.” The looks my parents and my brother gave me turned sharp with blame. But there was one thing she didn’t know. In this life, I could hear her thoughts, too. … Beneath the searing sun, I stood alone at the gate, a silk parasol shielding me from the heat. A carriage, stark and plain with a simple canvas top, slowly rounded the corner, a jarring sight against the grand, gleaming architecture of our street. Before it even came to a halt, a girl my age leaped down. Her dark hair was tied back with a simple crimson ribbon, and her almond eyes, wide and doe-like, danced with a playful, charming energy. “You must be my sister from the Capital. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. I’m Lila.” Her words were sweet as honey, but I knew the venom that lay coiled in her heart. Sure enough, as my parents and brother hurried out of the carriage after her, I heard that insidious whisper in my mind. “My sister, raised here in comfort, has never felt the bite of a frontier winter. Look at her clothes, so extravagant. She knows nothing of the real world.” Her next thought was even sharper. “That hairpin alone could pay a soldier’s wages for a year, couldn’t it?” My father, General Marcus Thorne, and my brother, Shawn, had just found their footing, but their faces tightened. Their gazes, when they fell on me, were cold with disapproval. It was happening just like before. In my past life, I had waited with a heart bursting with joy for my family’s return, only to be met with this inexplicable disdain from the very first moment. No matter what I did—or didn’t do—Lila’s inner voice was a constant poison, turning my family against me. I had done nothing, yet I became the embodiment of everything they despised: a spoiled, extravagant girl who disrespected her elders. I faded away, consumed by a quiet depression, and died. Lila, meanwhile, built her reputation on my ashes, becoming a celebrated hero—the humble girl from the Marches, a true soldier’s daughter who cared nothing for fame or fortune. This time, I refused to let their coldness break my heart. I gave them a simple, formal nod. “Father. Mother. Shawn.” Then, I turned and walked back into the house, not bothering to see if they followed. Behind me, Lila’s inner voice piped up again. “Why won’t she speak to me? Is she trying to put me in my place? These Capital ladies are all the same, so full of petty games. It’s nothing like the honest simplicity of the frontier.” My mother, hearing this, bristled. “Marcus, that daughter of ours has no manners at all!” My father’s face was a thundercloud. He said nothing. But Shawn couldn’t hold back. “I don’t have a sister that rude. As far as I’m concerned, Lila is my only sister!” A flicker of triumph must have sparked in Lila’s heart, but her face was a mask of gentle sorrow. “Perhaps it’s because she feels I’ve stolen your affection. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have presumed to call myself your daughter.” Hearing their sweet, cheerful adopted daughter speak so humbly, seeing the tears welling in her almond eyes, ignited a fresh wave of rage in my mother. She scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain as she looked in my direction. “Lila, you are my daughter. No one will ever be more important than you. Don’t waste your tears on someone who doesn’t matter.” Father and Shawn rushed to comfort her, murmuring reassurances. How utterly absurd. My own parents, on the very day of their return, calling their flesh and blood “someone who doesn’t matter” for the sake of an orphan they’d picked up. My chest felt hollow, empty. It should have ached. It should have been screaming in agony. But it felt nothing. The part of me that had yearned for my parents, that had missed my brother, had already died in my previous life. It died when Shawn gave the sacred texts I’d painstakingly copied to Lila, who tore them up for sport. It died when Mother, cradling a dripping-wet Lila she’d pulled from the lake, accused me of having the heart of a serpent. It died when Father had me flogged, forcing me to give my post as the princess’s royal companion to Lila. I strode into the grand hall and turned, cutting through their cozy family reunion without a shred of emotion. “Dinner is served.” The chatter behind me died instantly. Perhaps they’d momentarily forgotten that the “someone who doesn’t matter” was still there. Mother’s embarrassment quickly curdled into fury. She snapped, “What is that tone? Is that how you address your parents?” Her voice rose. “Disrespectful to your mother and father, cruel to your sister… How did I ever give birth to a daughter like you?” I feigned confusion, tilting my head as I looked at her contorted face. “I simply announced that dinner is ready. How is that disrespectful?” Her anger, met with my calm, had nowhere to go. She was speechless. Finally, my father intervened. … His voice was a low command. “Enough. Both of you.” He gestured towards the dining room. “We will eat.” Inside, the long, polished mahogany table was vast, yet the setting was sparse. Before them were a few bowls of thin porridge and some meager vegetables. Shawn stared at the pathetic display and slammed his chopsticks down. “What is this? Are you trying to starve us?” Lila immediately played the peacemaker. “Simple fare is wonderful. I’m sure my sister worked hard to prepare it.” But her inner voice sang a different tune. “Living in the Capital, she must have seen every delicacy imaginable. To serve us only this… she must truly despise me already. I should find a way to tell them to send me away. I can’t be the cause of a rift between a daughter and her parents. The guilt would be too much to bear!” My father’s patience finally snapped. His voice was cold iron. “Kneel.” I remained standing, unmoved. Last time, because of Lila’s thoughts, the lavish feast I’d prepared was seen as proof of my decadent lifestyle. It was Lila herself who had clutched her heart and declared that the soldiers on the frontier would be grateful for a simple bowl of gruel. So this time, I gave them the simple gruel they supposedly wanted. Why were they still angry? Seeing my defiance, Shawn surged forward, grabbing my arms. He was a soldier, hardened by years in the field, and his strength was overwhelming. He forced me down, his grip like a vise. In an instant, dark bruises were already blooming on my skin as I collapsed to the hard floor. My father pointed a trembling finger at me, his face purple with rage, calling me a disgrace. Shawn loomed over me, his voice thick with contempt. “You feast on delicacies every day in the Capital, and this is what you serve our parents upon their return? You are an ungrateful child!” “And how, brother,” my voice came out as a ragged whisper, “would you know that I feast on delicacies every day?” My frail body, already weakened, couldn’t take the strain. A mouthful of blood welled up and spilled from my lips. The sight of it shocked Shawn into releasing me. I wiped the blood from my chin, my gaze cold and steady. “When Grandmother was alive, she forbade me from eating meat. I was allowed only half a bowl of porridge at each meal.” I looked from one stunned face to another. “For your return, I specifically told the kitchens to bring me a full bowl. Tell me, how exactly am I an ungrateful child?” My grandmother had despised my mother. After she left me behind at the age of three to follow my father to the frontier, that hatred was transferred to me. Abuse and neglect became my reality. Half a bowl of gruel was a good day. Often, I was forced to kneel for hours on an empty stomach. It was a laughable irony: the daughter of the celebrated General Thorne was starving in his own home. But it was the truth. My parents’ expressions flickered. They knew my grandmother’s cruel nature. The memory of her own suffering at the old woman’s hands finally seemed to touch my mother’s heart, and a genuine pang of sympathy for me broke through. Tears streamed down her face as she rushed to help me up. “My child, my poor child, you’ve suffered so much.” She glanced at Shawn. “Your brother didn’t mean it. We’re family. Don’t hold it against him.” I said nothing, staring at the livid marks on my arms. My father shoved Shawn forward. He stumbled, head bowed, and mumbled a grudging apology. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Lila fluttered over, dabbing at the bloodstain on my dress with her handkerchief. “Oh, sister, it breaks my heart to see you like this!” But her inner voice was a self-righteous whisper. “She may have suffered, but it wasn’t Shawn’s fault. Does she have to be so dramatic and unforgiving?” The shift in the room was immediate. Shawn’s guilt vanished, replaced by resentment. The pity in my parents’ eyes evaporated, leaving only annoyance at my “lack of grace.” I had no more words for them. I simply turned and walked away. As I left, I heard my father’s voice, cold and commanding, follow me down the hall. “The Queen is selecting a new Royal Companion for the princess tomorrow. You will be attending the trials. Make sure you help your sister.” … In the Imperial Gardens, the Queen sat enthroned, with Princess Seraphina nestled by her side. Seraphina, the youngest and most cherished royal, was known for her whimsical and unpredictable nature. In my last life, she chose me as her companion. It wasn’t for my talent or wit, but simply because she found my face pleasing. It was that simple. But Lila’s inner voice had convinced my parents that I had schemed to prevent her from being chosen. I was punished, forced to kneel for days in the dim, suffocating family chapel, to “reflect on my sins.” My father took a riding crop to my back, demanding I “repent” and give the position to Lila. No matter how I pleaded, he trusted only the voice in his head. The position of Royal Companion, chosen by the princess herself, wasn’t something one could simply give away. In the end, he had to cash in years of military favors just to secure Lila a place at court. Now, I watched as Lila performed on the central dais. In a crimson tunic, she wielded a supple blade, a blur of fierce grace that drew gasps of admiration from the other noble girls. Princess Seraphina, however, looked bored. Everyone assumed her spirited personality would be drawn to someone as unconventional as Lila. But the princess had a secret preference for delicate, ethereal beauty. When Lila finished, it was my turn. I glided onto the stage in a gown of gossamer silk with wide, flowing sleeves. My features were painted to be delicate, my eyes holding a deep, quiet sorrow that seemed to draw the light. At first glance, I looked like a celestial being descended to the mortal realm. I hadn’t even begun my performance when Princess Seraphina started tugging on the Queen’s arm, whining like a child. “Mother, I want her!” Just like last time, Lila’s eyes turned red with fury and disappointment. And, just like last time, she waited until Shawn arrived to escort us home to offer her congratulations. “Congratulations, sister,” she said, her voice deceptively sweet. “You’ve won the princess’s favor. You’ll make a fine Royal Companion.” But her mind was a choked sob. “The princess seemed so impressed with my sword dance. Why did she choose my sister the moment she stepped on stage?” Those ambiguous words were the nail in my coffin last time. This time, I couldn’t be bothered to play along with her games. I replied with a lazy drawl, “The princess likes me, so she chose me. There’s nothing to congratulate.” Shawn’s brow furrowed in disgust. “Lila just lost her chance, and you’re here gloating? You’re pathetic.” Without giving him so much as a glance, I lifted the carriage curtain and stepped inside. My voice floated out, cool and dismissive. “Are you going to drive this carriage or not? If you’re not, I’ll find someone who will. I don’t have time to stand around and bicker.”

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