My boyfriend rejected my NYU scholarship offer on my behalf, giving the spot to Lily Davis, a student from a disadvantaged background. I broke up with him. But he just said: “During the last campus popularity contest, I chose you, not her, even with all the pressure. Lily’s family is so poor; she was really counting on that scholarship.” He spoke as if placating an unruly child. “Still mad? Once we’re married, you’ll have everything you desire. Why get so worked up over her?” I stared at his nonchalant face: “I said we’re breaking up. Didn’t you hear me?” He finally frowned, then quickly smiled again: “Alright, I’ll give you a week to cool down. Happy now?” He was so sure I couldn’t possibly leave him. But what he didn’t know. I had already received a full scholarship offer from Oxford University, and in five days, I would be flying to the UK. “You’re breaking up with Noah Harrison?” My best friend Chloe’s incredulous voice came through the phone. “Stella, are you insane? Noah’s dad is a top billionaire, and you’re just dumping him?” I held my phone away from my ear, leaning back against my headboard to scroll through the campus forum. The top-pinned post on the campus forum glared at me with a blazing red title: [Noah Harrison Gave Lily Davis the Scholarship to Shame Her!] The comments below were even more ‘interesting.’ “LOL, isn’t Lily always acting so virtuous and high-minded, claiming she despised the rich? How could she possibly accept this NYU scholarship spot?” “Noah must have done this for Stella.” Reading those comments, a wave of nauseating disgust washed over me. They thought Noah was standing up for me. Only I knew that this NYU scholarship slot, which I had slaved countless nights over and fought tooth and nail to secure, was just tossed aside to someone else with a casual “compensation” from Noah. “Stella, are you even listening? Say something!” Chloe was practically losing her mind on the other end. I tapped open Lily’s Ins profile; her latest post was from half an hour ago. No photo, just one line of text: “A gift that landed in my lap. And while I may scoff at it, it’s what I’m owed.” I screenshot it and sent it to Chloe. “See? That’s his ‘explanation’ to me.” Chloe went silent. After a long pause, her voice came through, dry and strained. “…So, the scholarship really was from him to Lily? But why? Didn’t he despise Lily?” “Every time Lily messed with you at school, wasn’t he always the first one to rush to your defense?” Yes, why? I used to believe he was on my side. I used to think those acts of ‘revenge’ were because he loved me, and thus hated anyone who hurt me. But the truth was, every superficial act of payback only led to a very real compensation for her. And I, the one who was deceived, was the only fool who gave genuine love. “Chloe.” I spoke softly. “Hmm?” “Noah and I, we’re really over.” “No misunderstanding.” On the other end of the line, Chloe gasped. I knew what she wanted to say—that Noah came from a prestigious family, that he was gentle with me, the perfect boyfriend everyone envied, and I shouldn’t be so impulsive. But all they saw was what he wanted them to see.

The next morning, a huge Hermès gift box was delivered to my dorm door. My roommates let out a collective gasp. “Oh my God, it’s the latest collection! Stella, Noah spoils you rotten!” “You guys are so in love! I’m totally jealous!” Inside the box was a card, inscribed with Noah’s elegant handwriting. “Countdown to cool-off period: 144 hours.” My roommates’ envious glances surrounded me. In their eyes, I was a princess held in the palm of a top heir’s hand, the absolute winner in this game of love. I only felt an endless wave of sarcasm. He thought money could buy anything, could smooth over any hurt, even my shattered dignity and trampled heart. I calmly took out my phone, snapped a photo of the bag that I hadn’t even had a chance to really touch. Then, with practiced ease, I opened a luxury resale app and started listing the item. Title: [EX’S CONSOLATION PRIZE, practically new, unboxed only. Serious offers only.] Once the listing was up, I shared the link with Chloe, asking her to keep an eye out for reliable buyers. Chloe’s call came through instantly. “Stella, are you crazy? Listing it on a resale site right after getting it? You’ll lose a fortune!” “I won’t be using it anyway.” I didn’t really care. Still on the phone, I dragged a pre-packed suitcase from the deepest corner of my closet. “Chloe, I’m flying to the UK in five days. Full scholarship to Oxford.” “What?” Chloe went completely silent. I could almost picture her jaw dropping. “When did you even—” “I applied ages ago. Just in case.” I smiled. This was probably the best decision I’d ever made for myself. After hanging up, a message from Noah popped up. “Did you get the gift? Why aren’t you replying? Don’t you like the color? I can get someone to exchange it for you if you don’t.” I couldn’t be bothered to reply, so I simply muted his chat. I started calmly packing my luggage, contacting a familiar international courier service for pickup. Just as I sealed the last box, my mom’s call came in. The moment I answered, her gentle coaxing began. “Stella, honey, are you and Noah having a spat? Noah even came to me complaining.” “Mom, we broke up.” “What nonsense are you talking?” My mom’s voice suddenly rose. “Stella, how can you be so unreasonable? For someone from our background to even get a Harrison, that’s pure luck on your part.” “Girls shouldn’t be so headstrong. Someone from Noah’s family, willing to lower himself to sweet-talk you like this, he’s already gone above and beyond. Don’t push it too far and throw away your good life!” I took a deep breath, cutting her off. “Mom, what if I don’t want this ‘good life’?” A long silence followed on the other end. Then, my dad snatched the phone. “Don’t you dare! Stella, we’ve worked our backsides off raising you all these years, not for you to be so stubborn! If you mess up this engagement, don’t even think about coming back home.” “Beep—” The line went dead with a harsh beep. Clutching my phone, standing in the middle of my chaotic dorm room, I suddenly felt incredibly light. Good. Let’s cut ties. Clean and absolute. That evening, a confirmation email from Oxford University popped up in my inbox. I stared at the lines of text for a long time, then slowly, deliberately, typed out my reply, confirming my enrollment. The moment I sent it, I let out a long breath. Finally, I was escaping.

“Stella, we’re having a family dinner tonight, and my mom specifically wants you there.” Noah called to announce. “Your parents will be there too. It’s time to put our engagement on the agenda. This is an opportunity my mom and I fought hard for, so don’t you dare look like a corpse again.” I rolled my eyes. Did he think I cared about this marriage? But then I remembered I had some important research papers still at home. This would be a good chance for my parents to bring them, and I could settle everything once and for all. “Fine.” I agreed. The Harrison family’s mansion was ablaze with lights. Noah’s parents sat at the head of the table. Their demeanor towards me was distant, almost frosty. Their words always subtly hinted that I came from an ordinary background, not good enough for their son. My parents, however, seemed utterly oblivious to the disdain, relentlessly flattering the Harrisons and plastering on forced smiles. They even went as far as to belittle me, just to curry favor. “Our Stella, she’s just been spoiled rotten by us. She has a bit of a temper, so Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, please bear with her in the future.” “It’s truly her good fortune to marry Noah.” I sat there stiffly, the judging stares making me feel like I was sitting on pins and needles. During the meal, Mrs. Harrison casually, almost artfully, brought up Lily Davis. “Noah, I heard you’ve been targeting a girl named Lily at school all these years?” A flicker of displeasure crossed her perfectly maintained face, but her gaze drifted, light as a feather, to me. As if she blamed me for dragging her son down. “Mom, don’t listen to rumors.” Noah set down his glass. “Actually, I quite admire Lily. She comes from a tough background and she’s fiercely independent. I just playfully teased her a few times, and always made it up to her later.” I pretended not to hear, numbly stuffing spoonfuls of abalone and lobster into my mouth. Halfway through the dinner, the butler ushered someone in. It was Lily. She wore a faded dress, looking utterly out of place in the opulent living room. She looked so pitiful, completely lacking her usual proud demeanor from school. Her beautiful eyes pleaded with Noah. Noah frowned, rubbing his temples, and told the butler: “Take her upstairs to change.” When Lily returned, she was like a different person. It was one of the Harrison family’s limited-edition designer dresses, and on her, it somehow evoked a fragile, almost pitiful beauty. Throughout the meal, Mrs. Harrison’s demeanor towards Lily was even warmer than it was towards me, the actual girlfriend. “Lily, isn’t it? Noah tells me you’re very hardworking and your grades are excellent. And now you’ve even secured that NYU scholarship! Such a good girl.” She took Lily’s hand, announcing she would fully sponsor her education. “If you ever face any difficulties, just tell me. Our family, the Harrisons, truly admires strong, self-made, ambitious young people like you.” Lily looked stunned by her attitude, her eyes welling up as she thanked her. I knew Mrs. Harrison was using Lily to publicly humiliate me. She was using this as a way to tell me that even a financially struggling student had more backbone and capability than I, a girl from a family with merely “some money.” I was the real nobody, vainly trying to latch onto their prestigious family. I couldn’t stand to watch my parents’ groveling, eager-to-please faces anymore. The churning nausea in my stomach threatened to erupt. I dropped my forks, stood up, and took the folder containing my research papers from my mom’s hand. “Excuse me, I’m not feeling well. I’m leaving.” Noah immediately stood up to block me. “Stella!”

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Seven years after my divorce from Julian, we met again at the school bus stop. He was dropping off his stepson for summer camp, and I was one of the teachers in charge of the event. I meticulously checked off his son’s registration details. He listened intently, like any responsible parent. It was only when I coolly addressed him as “Mr. Julian” that he seemed to flinch, a fleeting moment of lost thought. “Elara,” he said, “you’ve… changed a lot.” I focused on adjusting my microphone, offering no reply. Changed? Yes, a lot. At least, I wouldn’t waste my time waiting for him anymore. “Ms. Elara, what are you doing here? We’re just waiting for you to board!” Chloe, a girl with a high ponytail, jogged over from a distance. She was one of the students attending the summer camp, and also our class monitor. I smiled back at her. “Just finishing up with a parent. I’ll be there in a minute.” Chloe’s eyes followed my gaze, landing on Julian. A spark of admiration lit them up. “You must be Leo’s father, right? I’ve seen your pictures in financial magazines.” “They say you’re an outstanding entrepreneur in Maplewood, and you’re so good to him. We all wish we had a dad like that!” Leo was Julian’s stepson. The child he’d sworn to protect, no matter what. Julian offered a polite, strained smile, his gaze instinctively flicking to me. “He calls me Dad, so it’s only right that I’m good to him.” With the details confirmed, I neatly put the documents away. The zipper on my bag had corroded and was jammed in the fabric. I pulled out a small pair of scissors to snip it free, accidentally nicking my finger. Blood beaded and fell to the floor. Julian frowned. He grabbed my wrist, his voice tinged with a sudden worry. “Don’t move. Let me see the cut.” I glanced at him, then calmly pulled my hand away. “It’s fine. It’s not appropriate.” He paused, then said, “Wait here. I’ll go get you a band-aid.” I casually shook the blood off my finger, rejecting him flatly. “Seriously, it’s fine. I need to go.” As I turned, a single leaf spun down, landing at Julian’s feet. The bus to summer camp closed its doors with a heavy thud right in front of him. I settled into the passenger seat and took out a wet wipe, scrubbing at the spot on my wrist he’d touched. The driver, a nosy old-timer, chuckled. “That man in the suit, he looks like a big shot. Any woman who marries him would be set for life.” I smiled, completely agreeing. It had been seven years since my divorce from Julian. Seeing him again, I had managed to feel nothing. I’d resigned myself to us being parallel lines now. He chased his version of love, and I protected my peace. I’d almost forgotten. I once gave him everything. And he, in return, cost me child after child. He pushed me into the abyss with his own hands.

In the rearview mirror, the school bus stop receded into the distance. A memory flashed—this was also where Julian and I first met. Back then, he was desperately poor. He stood there, dirty, like a stray dog begging for scraps. In the biting wind, Julian hung his head, pleading bitterly. “My mom is sick. If you can just save her, I’ll do anything.” Everyone turned a blind eye, except for my dad, a doctor, who offered a helping hand. He arranged for Julian’s mother to be admitted, applied for the hospital’s benevolent fund, and even dipped into his own pockets, spending a fortune. Soon after, his mother’s condition improved. My dad took Julian in. “Elara, I found you a tutor.” Julian, six feet tall, clasped his hands nervously in front of him, his ears bright red. “I… I consistently rank in the top ten in my class. I’m pretty good at every subject.” He said that, but he was being modest. In truth, he wasn’t just good at academics. He was the kind of brilliant, all-around academic prodigy teachers raved about. Without the burden of his mother’s illness, he excelled even more. Soon, he was accepted into the top finance program at Maplewood University. And I, as my dad put it, rode on Julian’s coattails, barely scraping into Maplewood University as the last-place student. But no one could have predicted what would happen next. In Julian’s first year of college, his mother’s old illness relapsed, and she passed away. My dad, being a kind soul, felt awful about it. He said Julian had tutored me for so long, the debt of gratitude was already repaid. Now that his mother was gone, Julian wouldn’t have to carry that burden anymore. But Julian said, “Mr. Richard, this debt… it’s never fully repaid.” “You saved my mother’s life once, so I’ll take care of Elara for the rest of mine.” I traced the cut on my finger. It had stopped bleeding, but still throbbed. Looking back, I was so young then. He said that, and I believed him. I clung to Julian, shamelessly refusing to let go. We planned it all: we’d make enough money to buy a small place in Maplewood, then get married right after graduation. Live happily ever after, like most couples. But while Julian was good to me, his ambition burned brighter. That graduation year, he traveled hundreds of miles for a project. Those vows scattered like dust in the wind, all forgotten. He was so consumed by work, he was practically unreachable most days. On the rare occasion I did get through, before my joy could even settle, Julian said, “Elara, I’ve decided to stay here.” No apology. No mention of breaking up. Not even a single explanation. At that time, my elderly dad had retired from his job. He couldn’t stand seeing me cry every day. He advised, “You can’t force love. You have to let go when it’s time.” But four years of love—I couldn’t just give up. That very day, I packed my bags and boarded a train heading south. All the way there, I sent Julian messages. I poured out my heart, rambling on and on. “Julian, I’m coming to find you.” “So it’s fine if you stay, we won’t separate.” I sent him the train details, the arrival time. I wanted him to come. I wanted him to pick me up. But he didn’t. That day, it rained heavily in New Haven. I dragged my luggage, unable to find a single cab. I huddled there, crying for three hours as blood streamed down my legs. A sharp pain ripped through my stomach, and a terrifying realization dawned on me. It wasn’t my period. It was our unborn baby. It had come without me knowing and left just as silently. I looked up, panicked, desperate for help. That’s when I saw Julian approaching, shielded by an umbrella. A dark gray trench coat, gold-rimmed glasses—he looked impossibly polished, almost unreal. My legs were covered in blood, my clothes were bloody, my hands were bloody. I frantically grabbed Julian’s sleeve. “Our baby… I lost the baby.” His face was impassive, tinged with a flicker of annoyance. “Who told you to come?” Outside, the rain poured down. Julian’s face was like thunder. He asked, “Elara, who told you to follow me?”

The bus reached its destination, and I collected my thoughts, stepping off. There were dedicated staff to greet us at the summer camp, which made my job a lot easier. I was finally free to explore the area for a bit. My friend, Maya, came to pick me up, and immediately spotted Leo, who was holding a basketball. “That’s *her* son, isn’t it? You can tell just by looking at his eyes, he’s hers.” I nodded slightly, a silent confirmation. Maya, seeing my indifferent expression, got furious. Her anger simmered, then she started cursing Julian. “That scumbag is repulsive. How on earth did you ever agree to marry him?” It wasn’t really that complicated. After the miscarriage, I was admitted to the hospital. I was young then, fresh from losing my first baby, and terrified. Healing alone, a thousand miles from home, I hadn’t even dared to tell my parents. When I was at my most helpless, my most desperate for support, Julian proposed. I desperately clung to the idea, almost brainwashing myself that he wasn’t intentional. I just married him. After we got married, Julian was always busy, drowning in endless drinks and social engagements. Night after night, I’d wait, huddled over cold food, utterly drained. The constant emotional drain was agonizing. A sudden, unexpected pregnancy made my emotions incredibly volatile. I was at my breaking point. But that’s when Julian cheated. That woman was Seraphina. Not a business partner, not a socialite. Just a woman with a child, a widow. Their first meeting was anything but proper—in a private room at a club. Julian fell in love with her at first sight. It was just because she, with her 8-year-old son, had pleaded for his help, and it triggered something in him, reminding him of his own helpless past. He acted like he was possessed, bringing the child home. He lied to me, saying: “A friend’s son is sick and needs a quiet place to recover for a while.” I believed him, and I was even happy. Because of this child, he started coming home more frequently. Sometimes Seraphina would be with him. He introduced her to me: “This is Leo’s mother. Her husband was abusive, and she’d barely managed to escape with her child. Pitiful, really.” It left a bitter taste in my mouth, so I became even kinder to Leo. When he had a fever in the middle of the night, I stayed by his bedside, neglecting myself completely. If he wanted to eat something, I’d drag my heavy body out late at night to get it. But my kindness was met with cruelty. When I was seven months pregnant, Leo, upset with a meal he didn’t like, picked up a chair and smashed it into my stomach. Blood gushed out, a crimson stain spreading across the pale tiles. I frantically called Julian, but it was Seraphina’s voice I heard. She said, “Your man is sleeping with me. He’s in the shower right now.” I froze there, my heart went numb. All strength drained from my body. Leo, seeing the havoc he’d wreaked, opened the door and bolted. A passing neighbor discovered me and rushed me to the hospital. Predictably, the baby was gone. Smashed away by Seraphina’s son. And what was Julian doing then? He was sleeping with Seraphina. I’d been to hell and back. When I woke up, I was a madwoman. I smashed everything in the hospital room that I could get my hands on. I ripped out my IV, shredded my medical charts, and overturned the medicine cart. My eyes were bruised, my hair a wild mess as I frantically searched for Leo. I screamed hysterically, demanding he pay for my baby’s life. Doctors and nurses were at a loss; other patients scattered in fear. Julian appeared before me again. He grabbed my wrist, mercilessly pinning me down with all his strength. He asked, “Elara, are you done making a scene?”

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When they told me I was the real heiress, I was busy with a corpse in the basement. I smirked, reading the provocative message from the fake heiress. I was currently on the organization’s hit list anyway, so this “real heiress” identity might just come in handy. My phone rang, making me pause my work. Seeing the caller ID, I was genuinely shocked. It was the police. Had I been exposed already? This fast? “Hello, Ms. Skylar?” “Mmm,” I hummed in response. Listening to the officer on the other end, I let out a sigh of relief. It was about my background, my family. But how did the police find me? And my phone number? I hadn’t been in this country for long. Still, I agreed to the DNA test. This new identity was exactly what I needed to get out of my current predicament. I sat in the basement, wiping blood from my short blade. I’d been kidnapped as a child and raised as an assassin in a foreign country. For the right price, I’d kill anyone. But the organization had gone too far. They ordered me to kill a one-year-old girl. Their twisted reason? She was the daughter of a drug lord, a target for revenge. But even I had a bottom line. I never harmed children. So, I was unfortunately put on the organization’s kill list. That’s why I’d fled to this remote country. But I never expected them to send people after me, all the way here. I glanced at the man’s body before me, then let out a frustrated click of my tongue, carefully maneuvering him into a newly bought chest freezer. Then, I pulled out my phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to Agent A. “Stop sending people.” Agent A was my superior, the one who’d groomed me from childhood. To this day, I didn’t even know his real name. After leaving the basement, I went for the DNA test. There, I met the people who claimed to be my parents. They were dressed in opulent clothes. “My darling!” The middle-aged woman was incredibly emotional. She rushed forward, wanting to embrace me, but I instinctively recoiled. Physical intimacy wasn’t something I was used to. The woman clearly noticed my distant reaction. “It’s okay, let’s just go home first!” On the way, they talked endlessly. From my birth to how I got lost – every single detail. But then, Mr. Hayes suddenly changed the subject. “Sweetheart, you were seven when you were taken from us. We searched for you for years. When we thought you wouldn’t come back, your mother was heartbroken. So, we adopted a girl, Chloe. She’s a year younger than you.” Ah, so all that was just a preamble. This was what they were leading up to. “Your brother Leo couldn’t join us today because Chloe.” “She felt like we would kick her out once you returned, so she took an overdose of sleeping pills last night. We just had her stomach pumped.” “Leo is worried sick, so he’s staying with her at the hospital.” It was the same old, tired story. I just nodded, not saying much. As long as she didn’t bother me, I didn’t mind living under the same roof.

Back home, I finally met my so-called sister. She was pretty, with long hair cascading down to her waist, and eyes so swollen they looked like two puffy red cherries. She was still in a hospital gown, her small face ashen, making her look utterly fragile. Next to her, my brother, Leo Hayes, carefully supported her, not even sparing me a glance. My parents, upon seeing her, rushed forward, showering her with concern. Yet, moments before, they hadn’t asked me a single thing about how I’d spent all those years. I lowered my head, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. “Chloe, why are you back so soon? You should be resting! You’re too delicate for all this stress.” Mrs. Hayes’ gaze was starkly different when she looked at Chloe compared to me. The family continued to chat amongst themselves right in front of me for what felt like ages. Just like Agent A always said, for people like us, family bonds were always a luxury. Chloe walked toward me. “Skylar, welcome home.” I simply nodded, my face unreadable. “Skylar, I’m so sorry. Your room has been mine for years, so would you mind staying on the first floor for now? I’ll move my things to the third floor as soon as I can, but I have a lot of stuff, and it’ll take a while to sort through.” Chloe’s face was etched with a look of feigned embarrassment. I looked at the maid’s room on the first floor, falling silent. Her intentions were as clear as day. She was basically calling me an outsider. “Fine. But from now on, you can just call me Skylar.” Within the organization, my codename was X. Skylar was the name he had given me back then, and all my official documents used it. Thinking about it, my memory of that man was very distant now. He was nine years older than me, an assassin from the same organization. I only knew his codename: L. He went on a solo mission once and never came back. Everyone said he was dead, but I didn’t believe it. Leo Hayes, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his gaze filled with impatience. “Since you’re back in the Hayes family, you should use our surname. You’re Skylar Hayes.” “If you don’t change your name, isn’t it just because you want to constantly remind Mom and Dad that they lost you?” I was about to speak, but he cut me off again. “If you don’t change your name back, don’t even think about inheriting the Hayes family fortune!” I raised an eyebrow. In his eyes, I was only back to claim the inheritance, just for the money, right? “Oh, well. You can call me Skylar.” With that, I grabbed my luggage and walked into the room. The truth was, I wasn’t short on money. My bounty over the years had been the highest in the entire organization. Just then, I heard a rustling sound from the window. A shadow flashed past. As I pondered what it could be. Knock, knock! A knock on the door. “Skylar, dinner’s ready.”

At the dining table. I was placed next to Chloe. “Skylar, try this! I made this braised pork just for you.” Chloe scooped a piece of braised pork onto my plate. She watched me with a look of eager anticipation. Looking at the braised pork before me, I felt a wave of nausea. When I was twenty, I secretly rescued a dog named Make. The organization forbade assassins from developing emotions for anything. Only Agent A knew Make existed. Back then, Agent A and I had a decent relationship. “You’re back. Eat up.” Agent A had put a piece of braised pork on my plate, but he didn’t touch his own food. But as I took the first bite, the taste felt off. Seeing Agent A’s expression and actions, I understood, and I spit all the meat into the trash. My stomach churned. “Why?” Agent A only said one thing. “It will become your weakness.” After that, my relationship with Agent A plunged to an all-time low. I buried Make and his toys in the backyard. And I never ate braised pork again.

“I don’t like braised pork. You can have it.” I picked up some shredded potatoes with my fork and put them in my mouth. Chloe looked a little embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, Skylar. It’s my fault. I didn’t know you hated it. Our whole family loves it, so I thought you would too.” I had to admit, Chloe always managed to layer her words with subtle digs. Leo Hayes directly snatched my plate. “Skylar, we’re not even fighting you about your name anymore, so don’t push your luck. Chloe burned her hand making that meal for you.” I glanced at Chloe’s bandaged thumb and almost burst out laughing. When the organization trained us, I sustained injuries a thousand times worse than that. I even took a bullet during a mission. “It’s okay, Leo. Skylar just doesn’t like me. I’ll just go stay somewhere else.” As she spoke, Chloe shed a few convenient tears right there, then stood up as if to leave. Mrs. Hayes finally couldn’t sit still, her eyes filled with heartache. “Chloe, it’s already dark. Where are you going?” I checked the time, took a few more bites, completely ignoring Chloe’s little act. But Leo wasn’t having it. He actually snatched my fork and slammed it onto the floor. “Skylar, it’s all your fault! If it weren’t for you, Chloe wouldn’t have taken those sleeping pills, and the atmosphere in this house wouldn’t be like this! I wish you’d never been found!” I clenched my fists, barely resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Leo continued to lecture me, his words growing crueler. “Don’t think that just because of blood ties, you can kick Chloe out. She’s my sister!” Seeing my silence, Leo assumed I was scared. “But, if you behave yourself, this family can still afford to raise another daughter.” I almost laughed at how ridiculous that was. He spoke as if I weren’t even their biological child. Mr. and Mrs. Hayes didn’t contradict him, clearly siding with Chloe. I chuckled softly, then looked up, mimicking Chloe’s expression. But I simply couldn’t cry. I could only adjust myself into a fragile, pitiful facade. “I thought finding my biological parents would give me a safe haven. It seems I was wrong. You’re a family. I understand. I’ll move out.” Feigning vulnerability? Who couldn’t? I’d learned plenty of acting skills in the organization. Mr. Hayes finally spoke, his face stern, yet with a hint of sympathy for me. “Skylar, don’t say that. You are my daughter, and this home will always have a place for you.” After he spoke, no one dared to utter another word. It seemed Mr. Hayes held the highest authority in the family. That dinner ended with no one feeling satisfied.

For the next few days, Chloe was surprisingly docile. But that changed when Mr. Hayes announced he was holding a welcome-home celebration for me. That evening, Chloe sent me a message brimming with provocation. “Don’t think your homecoming means you can get rid of me. I’m already engaged to Landon Vance. Once I marry him, I’ll be Mrs. Vance. You’ll always be an outsider. Of course, if you don’t cause trouble, this family might keep you around like a pet dog.” Chloe was far too confident. I replied with just one sentence, but it was a cut that went straight to the bone. “Would the Vance family really want a fake heiress?” “You just wait!” The Hayes and Vance families’ alliance was purely business, all about status. Mr. Hayes had always told everyone Chloe was his biological daughter, so no one knew she was the fake heiress. If they knew Chloe wasn’t the real heir, they wouldn’t even give her a second glance. I changed into the gown Mrs. Hayes had given me. It fit perfectly, making me look like a true socialite. Standing before the mirror, I felt a strange sense of unreality. If I hadn’t been kidnapped and taken to that foreign country all those years ago, would I have been like Chloe, growing up thinking only about what dress to wear or where to travel? But there were no “ifs.” I strapped my short blade to my leg. I hadn’t been without this knife for years. When I finished getting ready and stepped out of my room, the butler looked at me awkwardly. “My apologies, Miss Skylar, but your parents and the others have already left.” Just as expected. Chloe, again. “Is there a car?” The butler looked confused for a moment before he finally understood. “Yes, but you’ll have to drive yourself, Miss.” “Give me the keys.” The butler looked even more awkward. “What now?” “There’s only one motorbike left, the one Mr. Leo bought. The other cars have all been borrowed by Miss Chloe.” Chloe was truly childish, but motorbikes were my specialty. I took the keys and went to the garage. Thankfully, the gown wasn’t too long, so riding the motorbike would be perfectly fine. I put on my helmet and started the navigation. My gown fluttered behind me in the wind. When I arrived at the hotel entrance, I saw Chloe and Leo standing there, greeting guests. They both froze the moment they saw me. Many young socialites were also at the entrance. I handed the keys to the valet, then took off my helmet. Chloe stepped forward, speaking in a voice just loud enough for everyone around to hear. “Skylar, why did you ride a motorbike here by yourself? That’s so improper, especially in a dress.” “I know you’ve just returned, so you might not understand, but you could have asked me.” I turned my head to look at Chloe. “Why don’t you mention that your family left without me, leaving me only a motorbike?” “Sister, try to be less transparent with your little schemes.” The people around us immediately started whispering. “Chloe is so calculating. Compared to her, Miss Skylar looks so much more like Mrs. Hayes. And Chloe, tch, tch, could she not be their real daughter?” “By the way, the Hayes heiress is pretty cool. My car was right behind her on the road, and so many people were taking pictures.” Chloe’s face flushed with anger. She glanced at Leo, seemingly waiting for him to speak up for her. Leo was about to open his mouth when Chloe suddenly looked behind me, then ran over, blushing shyly. “Landon, you’re here.” I turned around, puzzled. The next second, my heart skipped a beat. Chloe had linked her arm with Landon. He was L, the man who had vanished years ago. How could he be here? I couldn’t help but step forward, my eyes slightly red. It was him. L. The tear mole at the corner of his eye, exactly the same. I knew it. I knew he was still alive. Chloe looked at me, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “Skylar, this is Landon Vance, my fiancé.” “Hello, Ms. Skylar. Impressive driving skills.” He extended his hand. I took it, my entire body trembling uncontrollably. How had he become Landon Vance?

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I helped my husband Derek build his empire from the ground up. I stood by his side when we had nothing. Yet, when I was six months pregnant and needed him most, he told me he was going to a remote village for charity work. He’d always been kind-hearted, so as his wife, I understood and fully supported him. That was, until I saw a man, hailed as “the most discreet philanthropist,” appear on my best friend Maya’s livestream. Maya, flushed and coy, snuggled into his arms, thanking him for splashing a fortune on her. The man didn’t show his face, but as he gently wiped the sweat from Maya’s forehead, I saw the ring on his ring finger. It was that cheap $5 silver band we’d bought when we got married. “Honey, the signal in the mountains can be spotty, so please be careful. If you need more cash, just tell me.” I gently stroked my six-month pregnant belly, softly reminding him over the phone. Derek’s voice, tired yet content, drifted through: “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Seeing the smiles on the kids’ faces when they get their supplies makes it all worth it.” “I just feel bad about leaving you alone at home while you’re pregnant.” “Don’t be silly. You’re doing good deeds. I couldn’t be prouder of you.” I hung up, a sweet warmth filling my chest. Turning, I reheated last night’s leftovers and ate them with plain rice. Derek was teaching in the mountains; I knew he must be roughing it, so I had to be frugal too. We’d been together since college, scraping by on ramen and cheap takeout in a dingy basement apartment for three years, before finally building our way up to owning a house and cars and our own company in this major city. Now that he was successful, he hadn’t forgotten his roots, choosing to help those in need. I admired him from the bottom of my heart and felt a pang of sympathy for the hardships he was enduring. After dinner, I opened Maya’s livestream, planning to send her some gifts to boost her viewership. Maya was my best friend, a moderately popular outdoor content creator. Today’s stream was being broadcast from the city’s most exclusive luxury resort. “Hey everyone, we’ve got a super special guest in the stream today!” Maya’s voice buzzed with barely contained excitement. “It’s the internet-famous ‘most discreet philanthropist,’ Mr. Miller, who anonymously donated ten million dollars to schools in remote areas!” My heart gave a sharp lurch. Miller? And a philanthropist? What an odd coincidence. The chat exploded instantly. “Wow! Is that the mystery billionaire who refused all interviews?” “Maya, you’re awesome! How did you get him on your stream?” On screen, Maya coyly linked her arm through the man’s, but he subtly turned, keeping his face out of frame. “Mr. Miller is a very private person, everyone, so let’s not overwhelm him,” Maya explained, a radiant smile on her face, but the adoration in her eyes was impossible to hide. I frowned, a strange discomfort settling in. Maya had a boyfriend. This kind of flirty behavior with another man felt totally inappropriate. “A huge shout-out to Mr. Miller! He’s covering all the gifts for tonight’s livestream!” As Maya cheered, the screen was instantly flooded with super chats and gift bombs. I watched the animations for gifts worth thousands of dollars flash by, my jaw slightly agape. This Mr. Miller certainly had deep pockets. Maya was flushed with excitement, her forehead dotted with fine sweat. Seeing this, the man beside her naturally reached up, gently wiping away the beads of perspiration with his thumb. It was that simple gesture that made my blood run cold. The ring on the man’s ring finger was plain, almost dull, with some of its cheap plating already chipped. It was the $5 silver band Derek and I bought at a night market right after we graduated. He’d said it was more precious than any diamond, a promise of a lifetime to me, and he’d never take it off. I felt a wave of icy dread wash over me, as if I’d plummeted into a frozen abyss. Still desperate, I posted a comment in the chat. “Could Mr. Miller say a few words? I really admire him!” Maya saw my comment and playfully nudged the man’s arm. “Mr. Miller, my fans want to hear your voice.” The man paused, then let out a soft chuckle. That voice, that tone, I knew it to my very core. “Hello, everyone.” Just three words, and I was utterly shattered. It was Derek! Wasn’t he supposed to be teaching in the mountains? He’d said the children there couldn’t even afford food, yet here he was, splashing a fortune to make my best friend smile! My stomach churned violently. I rushed to the bathroom, throwing up until I was dizzy and breathless. My phone chimed. A text from Derek. “Sweetheart, just finished distributing school supplies to the kids. Exhausted. It’s cold in the mountains at night, so I’m heading to bed. Don’t reply.” The message was accompanied by a photo: a pair of mud-caked, worn-out boots next to a dim, dilapidated shack. But on the livestream, Maya was standing on tiptoes, kissing “Mr. Miller’s” cheek, with a dazzling crystal chandelier from the resort sparkling in the background. “Thank you, darling. You’re the best to me.” I clutched my phone, my nails digging into my flesh. Tears blurred my vision, and a sharp, twisting pain shot through my belly. My hands trembling, I dialed Maya’s number. It rang for a long time before she finally answered, her voice languid and laced with a suggestive intimacy. “Hey, babe, what’s up? I’m a little busy right now.” Through the phone, I heard Derek’s suppressed panting. “Maya, that ‘Mr. Miller’ in your livestream…” My voice was an uncontrollable tremor. “Oh, him?” Maya chuckled, her tone triumphant. “Just a man who’s completely in love with me, that’s all.” “What, are you interested in him too?” “Well, I wouldn’t bother if I were you. He only has eyes for me.” “He said his wife is old and boring, a worn-out housewife with a burden of a child, and he’s been sick of her for ages.” Maya’s words were like venomous darts, piercing my heart one by one. I could even hear her and Derek’s unrestrained laughter and heavy breathing on the other end. I couldn’t take it anymore. I slammed the phone down. A worn-out housewife… a burden of a child… I looked down at my swollen feet, a common side effect of pregnancy, then at my haggard face in the mirror. My heart felt like it was being torn to shreds. For this family, for his career, I’d worked tirelessly for ten years. Was “old and boring” all I got in return? No, I couldn’t let myself be defeated like this. I wiped away my tears, my gaze hardening, turning icy cold. Derek, Maya, you two-timing cheats. I’ll make you pay for this. Taking a deep breath, I opened a phone app I’d long suspected but never wanted to confront. It was a home surveillance app. Derek had installed cameras all over the house, ostensibly “for your and the baby’s safety,” and linked them to his phone. But what he didn’t know was that the installer, while calibrating the system, had discreetly set up a copy on my phone as well. I opened the app, my heart pounding, and immediately tapped on the live feed from the living room camera. The screen was empty. They weren’t back yet. I stared at the screen, like a hunter waiting for their prey to fall into the trap. Suddenly, something else occurred to me, and a fresh wave of icy dread washed over me. Derek’s so-called “charity” trip had cost me a full five million dollars. That was the last of my parents’ inheritance. He’d claimed the company was facing a cash flow crisis and desperately needed the funds. I had, with tears in my eyes, given it to him. Now, it hit me. That money wasn’t for the company; it was for Maya! I couldn’t wait any longer! I sprang up, changed clothes, grabbed my car keys, and rushed out the door. I had to get to the company. Before he returned, I needed to find proof and protect my parents’ last legacy and what was rightfully mine! The night was cold, but my heart was even colder. Derek, you’d better pray I don’t find anything to use against you!

I sped all the way to the company building and used my spare key to unlock the empty office. The familiar surroundings now felt utterly alien and repulsive to me. Without hesitation, I headed straight for Derek’s office. His self-proclaimed secrets were utterly exposed to me, his wife of ten years, with whom he’d shared a bed. I walked to the massive framed calligraphy piece behind his desk, a quote that read “Fortune Favors the Bold,” and lightly pressed an inconspicuous spot on the lower right corner of the frame. The frame silently sprang open, revealing a hidden safe behind it. Derek thought I’d never know the password. He used the anniversary of his first time sleeping with Maya. How ironic. I still remembered the scent of perfume on him that night, a scent that definitely wasn’t mine. I entered the password, and the safe door clicked open. Inside, there wasn’t much cash, just a few luxury watches and a black hardcover ledger. This was my true target tonight. My hands trembling, I flipped open the ledger. The dense pages recorded far more than just the whereabouts of my five million dollars. It detailed how he’d abused his position to falsify company records, illegally transfer assets, and pay under-the-table kickbacks to various “partners.” Every single entry was enough to land him in jail for life. It turned out his so-called charity trip to the mountains was just a cunning ruse. He’d planned it all along: to bleed me dry using my five million, then run off with the assets he and Maya had secretly transferred, leaving me and our child to fend for ourselves! I pulled out my phone, turned on the video recorder, and meticulously filmed every single page of the ledger. The light from my phone screen illuminated my face, cold as ice. Derek, you want me and my child to suffer the consequences of your actions? Then tonight, I’ll personally dig your grave and show you what it means to reap what you sow! I placed the ledger back, closed the safe, restored the framed calligraphy, and wiped away every trace of my presence. After it was done, I felt utterly drained, collapsing onto the cold floor. The baby in my belly seemed to sense my despair, kicking me uneasily. I jolted, looking down and stroking my swollen belly. No, I couldn’t fall apart. For my child, I had to get back up. I wiped away the mess on my face, pulled myself off the floor, and dialed a number I knew by heart. “Mr. Davies, it’s Chloe.” The voice on the other end was steady and firm. “Ms. Dawson, it’s late. Is everything alright?” I calmly recounted everything that had happened. After listening, Mr. Davies was silent for a moment, then his tone took on a hint of approval. “Ms. Dawson, you are more composed and decisive than I imagined.” “This evidence is crucial, but it’s not enough. We need undeniable proof, something that will utterly destroy him.” “Go home now. Act as if nothing happened. Remember, from this moment on, every word you utter could be used against you in court.” After hanging up, the huge stone in my chest eased slightly. I drove home. As I pulled my car into the garage, Derek’s familiar BMW slowly drove in after me. He was back. I took a deep breath, adjusted my expression, and pushed open my car door. Derek saw me, paused, then his face broke into a tired yet doting smile. “Sweetheart, why are you still up so late? I told you to get some rest.” He walked over, opening his arms to embrace me. The scent of an expensive cologne mixed with Maya’s perfume clung to him. My stomach churned. I subtly sidestepped, clutching my waist, and frowned. “My stomach’s been a bit uncomfortable, couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come down for a walk.” His hands froze in mid-air. A flicker of something dark, almost imperceptible, crossed his eyes, but it quickly morphed back into tenderness. “Really? Do you want to go to the hospital to get checked out?” “No need, it’s just my usual discomfort.” I looked at him, feigning concern. “You… weren’t you in the mountains? Why are you back?” “The project finished ahead of schedule, and the local leaders insisted on celebrating, so I had a few drinks and stayed at the resort overnight.” He lied without batting an eye. “I wanted to give you a surprise, you know?” A surprise? I stared at his affectionate face, finding it utterly sarcastic. He pulled a beautifully wrapped gift box from the trunk and handed it to me. “Sweetheart, look, I had someone bring you the latest designer bag from abroad. Do you like it?” I opened the box to find a six-figure Hermes Birkin bag nestled inside. I scrimped and saved, barely buying myself anything new, while he used my money to splash a fortune on the other woman, then tried to buy me off with a mere designer bag. My heart bled, yet I forced a moved smile onto my face. “I love it, honey. You’re too good to me.” “Silly girl, who else would I be good to?” He laughed, playfully nudging my nose, his actions as intimate as ever. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, his eyes instantly softening, and walked away to answer it. “Hello, darling… yeah, I just got home… she didn’t suspect anything… don’t worry, everything’s going according to plan…” His voice was hushed, but I heard every word crystal clear. I stood rooted to the spot, chilled to the bone. He hung up and walked back, the tenderness still lingering on his face. He looked at me, then suddenly sighed, pulling me into his embrace, resting his chin on my head. “Sweetheart, you’ve worked so hard all these years, following me.” His voice held a chilling, almost “farewell” tenderness I’d never heard before. “Once things settle down, we’ll sell the company and travel the world. How does that sound?” I stiffened in his arms, feeling the warmth of his chest, yet a wave of dread shot from my feet all the way to the top of my head. I finally understood what Mr. Davies meant by “undeniable proof.” The ledger could only prove his financial crimes, not his complete lack of affection for me, nor could it force him to leave empty-handed. I needed evidence that he not only didn’t love me but even wanted me dead! And now, it seemed, that opportunity had arrived. I looked up, meeting his “loving” gaze, my voice trembling with a feigned excitement. “Honey, are you serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious.” Derek stroked my hair, his eyes brimming with a tenderness that seemed to drip with honey. “I’ve already lined up a buyer. Once the company is sold, we’ll have endless money to live the life we’ve always wanted.” He paused, his hand gently covering my lower belly, his voice filled with a vision of the future. “By then, our baby will be born, and the three of us will go watch the sunset on the beaches of Santorini, soak in hot springs in the Swiss Alps, making up for everything we missed.” The future he painted was so beautiful, every scene a dream I’d once cherished. But now, coming from his lips, it sounded like a carefully spun web leading straight to hell. My heart screamed, it wept, yet my face had to maintain the facade of happiness. “Honey…” I choked, burying my face in his chest, hot tears soaking his shirt. Half of it was an act; the other half, genuine heartbreak. Derek gently patted my back, as if comforting a wronged child. “There, there. You’re about to be a mom, acting like a little girl.” The more tender he was, the more the hatred churned within me. Back home, he thoughtfully drew a bath for me and brought me a cup of warm milk. “Sweetheart, get some rest. Tomorrow I’ll have Mom come over to take care of you. Her special herbal tonic is the best for pregnancy.” Herbal tonic… My heart sank. I remembered that from my fourth month of pregnancy, my mother-in-law, Mrs. Miller, had, without fail, personally brought this special herbal tonic every single day, urging me to drink it while it was warm. She claimed it was a secret recipe she’d obtained from a renowned herbalist, after pulling countless strings, and was the best for the baby in my belly. I’d always believed it was her way of expressing a grandmother’s anticipation for her unborn grandchild. But now, thinking back, could there be a darker plot hidden behind it? “Fine,” I said, suppressing the turmoil in my heart, and gave him a compliant smile. “Thank Mom for me.” He smiled contentedly, leaned down, and kissed my forehead goodnight. “Good girl, sleep tight.” I lay in bed, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom, feeling like I was submerged in ice water, utterly devoid of warmth. I pulled out my phone and opened the home surveillance app. I needed evidence, undeniable proof that would nail them to the pillar of shame! But, I scrolled through months of cloud recordings and found nothing useful. Derek and Maya were incredibly cunning; they never showed any intimacy at home. And Mrs. Miller’s daily tonic, I’d always drunk every drop. In the surveillance footage, she always appeared as a kind and affectionate mother-in-law. Could I be overthinking this? No. My woman’s intuition told me that tonic was definitely suspicious! But where was the proof? Without it, everything was just my speculation. I tossed and turned restlessly until the bathroom water stopped. Derek walked out, wrapped in a towel, drying his hair. Seeing me still awake, he frowned. “What’s wrong? Still uncomfortable?” “No… just having trouble settling in.” I mumbled a random excuse. He didn’t press further, walking straight to the bed, pulling back the covers, and lying down. His familiar masculine scent enveloped me, but I only felt waves of nausea. I lay with my back to him, my body stiff as a board. In the darkness, he suddenly pulled me into an embrace from behind, his warm breath on the back of my neck. “Sweetheart,” his voice was a husky, seductive whisper, “we… it’s been a while.” His hand began to roam over my body, becoming bolder. Every hair on my body instantly stood on end, a chill of revulsion shooting from my tailbone to the top of my head. My first instinct was to push him away. “No… don’t… the doctor said it’s not safe during late pregnancy,” I stammered. His movements paused, then he let out an ambiguous chuckle. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. It won’t harm the baby.” His hand, with an undeniable force, slipped beneath my nightgown. My mind went blank with a deafening roar. I struggled desperately, but my strength was nothing compared to his. In despair, my hand fumbled frantically on the nightstand, just wanting to find something to defend myself with. Suddenly, I felt my phone. A wild thought instantly flashed through my mind. I stopped struggling, my body slowly going limp, letting out a suppressed sob. Derek mistook my submission for consent, his actions growing bolder and more aggressive. I closed my eyes, letting tears of humiliation stream down my face, while my other hand, hidden beneath the covers, clutched my phone tightly, my fingers rapidly manipulating the screen. I opened Maya’s familiar livestream app. Then, with every ounce of strength I had, I turned the phone’s volume to maximum. The next second, Maya’s sweetly seductive, yet now piercingly shrill voice, echoed through the entire bedroom. “Thank you, darling. You’re the best to me!”

Maya’s sweet, simpering voice, amplified by my phone’s speaker, blared through the silent bedroom like a clap of thunder, instantly shattering the illusion of tender intimacy. “Thank you, darling. You’re the best to me!” Derek’s movements on top of me froze. I could distinctly feel every muscle in his body tense up instantly, even his breathing hitched. The air in the room was thick with a deathly silence. I slowly opened my eyes, meeting his gaze-a mixture of shock, panic, and finally, a chilling malice. “Derek,” I enunciated each word, my voice low but sharp as an ice-cold blade, “the signal in the mountains… it’s really good, isn’t it?” His face, before my very eyes, drained of color, turning sickeningly pale. “You… what are you talking about?” He tried to fight back, but his voice was riddled with unconcealed panic. I didn’t answer him. I simply raised my phone. On the screen, Maya’s livestream replay was still playing. She was coyly snuggling into “Mr. Miller’s” arms, and on that man’s ring finger, the $5 silver band glinted with an unbearable irony under the resort’s dazzling lights. Derek’s pupils contracted sharply. It was as if all the strength had been sucked out of him. He rolled off me, landing clumsily on the carpet. “You… you know everything?” “Yes, I know everything.” I slowly sat up, pulling my slipped nightgown back into place. I looked down at him with an expression of pure disgust, as if he were a piece of trash. “I know you took my parents’ five million dollar inheritance to send lavish gifts to my best friend.” “I know your so-called charity work in the mountains was just an excuse to roll around in bed with her at the city’s most expensive luxury resort.” “I know that while you were whispering sweet nothings to me, you were telling her on the phone that you were sick of me, your old and boring worn-out wife!” Every word I uttered was like a resounding slap, hitting him hard across the face. His face was a sickly combination of green and white, his lips trembling, but he couldn’t utter a single word in rebuttal. “Chloe, let me explain.” He struggled, trying to crawl over and grab my hand. “Explain?” I scoffed, then abruptly threw my phone at his face. “Explain that you’ve been with her for five years! Explain that you have more photos with her than with me! Or explain that your safe’s password is her birthday!” “Derek, you make me sick!” He was utterly stunned by my outburst, his eyes now filled only with terror. He couldn’t fathom where his foolproof plan had gone wrong. “You… you touched my safe?” He finally reacted, his voice sharp and distorted. “Not just the safe,” I looked at him, slowly, a chilling smile forming on my lips. “Also that ‘broken’ old computer in your study.” On that computer, there were videos of him and Maya intimate on our marital bed. There were recordings of him explicitly stating that after I gave birth, he’d find an excuse to divorce me and seize all our assets. That was incriminating evidence he could never erase! Derek’s face completely lost all color. He collapsed onto the floor, his eyes vacant, muttering to himself, “Impossible… impossible…” “Nothing’s impossible.” I threw back the covers and stood before him. The sharp pains in my abdomen reminded me that I couldn’t waste any more time on him. “Derek, we’re done.” “Tomorrow, my lawyer will contact you to discuss divorce and asset division. You committed marital infidelity and illegally transferred marital assets; the evidence is irrefutable. I advise you to cooperate. Otherwise, I won’t hesitate to make all of this public and destroy your reputation!” “Divorce?” Derek reacted as if those words had pierced him. He suddenly looked up, his eyes blazing with a savage hatred. “Chloe, don’t even think about it!” He sprang up from the floor like a cornered beast, lunging at me! “You think you’ve won? I’m telling you, without my signature, you won’t get a single penny!” “You damn bitch! You pushed me to this!” His face was contorted in a grotesque mask, his hands tightly clasped around my neck. The sensation of suffocating instantly overwhelmed me. I struggled desperately, clawing at his hands with my nails. But the stark difference in our strength made all my resistance futile. My vision blurred, and the baby in my belly seemed to sense the danger, kicking me violently. Baby… my baby… The instinct to survive ignited a final surge of strength within me. With all my might, I raised my knee and slammed it hard into his lower abdomen! “Agh-!” Derek let out a piercing scream of pain, clutching himself and curling into a ball on the floor. I scrambled to the door, fumbling with trembling hands to open it. Just as I was about to unlock the door, Derek’s voice, like a vengeful ghost, echoed behind me. “Chloe! Stop right there!” I turned, seeing him leaning against the wall, swaying as he stood up. His handsome face, distorted by pain and fury, looked utterly monstrous. “Do you really think I haven’t prepared for this?” He spat the words through gritted teeth, a chilling, malicious smirk spreading across his face. “You want a divorce? Fine! I’ll give you one!” “But first, you’ll have to pay back the five million dollar loan shark debt you owe me!”

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Seven years into our marriage, I found records of Julian and his intern checking into a hotel on his phone. It was 3 AM. I sat on the closet floor, clutching the luxury scarf he’d brought back from his business trip. The packaging had a label from a Fifth Avenue boutique, but his credit card statement showed no such purchase. The shower in the bathroom stopped. I quickly locked his phone screen, which he’d forgotten to close, revealing SnapChat. The latest message was a voice note from Chloe, “Julian, no more bites on the neck. It’s asking for trouble at the office.” In the background, I heard the familiar ticking of the watch I’d given him last month. “Still awake?” Julian walked out, toweling his hair dry, water still clinging to his abs. My eyes caught the fresh scratches across his collarbone. And then I remembered the medical report from earlier that day. My CA125 levels were soaring, a red flag for gynecological tumors. He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head, dodging him. “You said you were in Seattle last week for a meeting?” “Yeah, discussing a project with Mr. Thompson.” He answered quickly, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of his phone. That was his tell when he lied. How pathetic. The boy who once stood up for me now couldn’t even bother to change his excuses for cheating. My phone buzzed. Chloe had sent an ultrasound image: “Mrs. Julian, what do you think the baby should call you when it’s born? Auntie or Mommy?”

The champagne tower at the company’s IPO celebration reflected the crystal chandeliers. I stood beside Julian, watching him effortlessly charm various investors. The sapphire cufflinks on his suit – my birthday gift to him last year – sparkled with a cold light as he raised his glass. “Mrs. Julian, you truly are blessed,” a board member’s wife leaned in. “I hear you two were college sweethearts? From campus to a publicly traded company, that’s rare among young people these days.” I forced a smile, my gaze unconsciously following Julian. He was leaning in to listen to a female investor, a familiar curve playing on his lips. The woman wore berry-colored lipstick, her fingers subtly brushing Julian’s arm as she spoke. My phone vibrated in my palm-a reminder about my medical report from the hospital. I swiped the screen open, my eyes suddenly fixated on a particular number. CA125 levels, abnormally high. A gynecological tumor marker. “What are you looking at?” Julian appeared beside me, his breath carrying the scent of wine. I instinctively locked the screen. “Nothing, just a routine check-up from the hospital.” As I reached to straighten his slightly crooked tie, my fingertips brushed his neck. There, a trace of rose-red that didn’t belong under the ballroom lights caught my eye. Julian flinched back a step. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my hand frozen in mid-air. “Just a little warm.” He loosened his tie, his gaze sweeping over my shoulder. “Mr. Thompson is looking for me. Why don’t you head home first?” That rose-red smudge was clearly half a lipstick print.

In our seventh year of marriage, Julian started putting a password on his phone. “The client information I’m handling lately is too sensitive,” he explained, his fingers tracing a pattern on the screen that I couldn’t understand. Back in college, we’d shared the same Amazon account. He even wrote in his graduation thesis acknowledgements, “Thanks to Audrey for letting me check her phone anytime for inspiration.” Now, his phone was always face down. I stood in the closet, clutching the silk scarf he’d brought back from his business trip last week. The Hermès box had a label from a Fifth Avenue boutique, but there was no record of this purchase on his credit card statement. Deep in his closet, in the pocket of a gray suit he often wore, I found a crumpled hotel receipt. The date on it was the exact day he claimed to be in Seattle for a meeting. At the bottom of the receipt, it read: The Ritz-Carlton, downtown LA. I opened the map app. It was only 0.75 miles from company headquarters. The sound of the shower started in the bathroom. I mechanically tied the scarf around my neck. The silk fabric felt like a cold snake against my skin. The woman in the mirror had a pale face, dark circles under her eyes from insomnia. A thirty-year-old woman, no matter how well she takes care of herself, can’t compete with a twenty-year-old’s collagen. The water stopped. I quickly exited the map app. Julian walked out, drying his hair, water droplets trailing down the ridges of his abs. I had touched this body countless times, but now it felt like a stranger’s. “Tomorrow’s your birthday,” he said, picking up his phone from the bedside charger. “What do you want for a gift?” I gazed at the fresh scratches on his collarbone and softly replied, “Come with me for my check-up tomorrow. My report just came in.” “Tomorrow?” He frowned. “I don’t think I can make it. I have to fly to New York unexpectedly for an important client.” His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “I’ll have my assistant book a restaurant. You can celebrate with your best friend?” I watched his eyebrows twitch as he typed. Ten years ago, when he confessed his feelings for me, he’d been texting and secretly smiling like this. Later, I learned he was live-streaming his confession to his dorm group chat; his buddies had bet he wouldn’t dare kiss me. Now, the curve of his lips was exactly the same as it had been back then.

On the morning of my birthday, I received flowers from Julian via his assistant. Ninety-nine Ecuadorian roses, with a card bearing a standard printed greeting. Even the signature was typed. My phone vibrated. A message from Julian. “Flight’s been moved up. Heading to the airport now. Happy Birthday, I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” I called him. It rang seven times before he picked up. The background was silent, definitely not the bustling airport. “Are you in the taxi yet?” I asked. “Yeah, almost at Terminal 3,” his voice had a strange gasp to it. “Signal might be unstable.” I opened the location sharing app. Our shared location, set up for safety, showed him in a high-end apartment complex in downtown LA. That red dot stung my eyes. “Which hotel did you say you stayed at last time?” I tried to make my voice sound casual. “The Peninsula,” he blurted out, then quickly corrected himself, “No, it was the Hyatt near the airport.” A faint female voice whispered in the background: “Julian, the hot water in the bathroom…” The call suddenly disconnected. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, looking at my carefully chosen nude-pink silk dress. It was Julian’s favorite color. He said it reminded him of the nightgown I wore on our first date. Now, the dress hung empty on my body. I’d lost twelve pounds in the last two months. On the coffee table lay the gift I hadn’t been able to give him. A pair of matching Patek Philippe watches. The men’s watch had “To My Lighthouse” engraved on the inner side of the dial. The women’s, “To My Harbor.” In our senior year of college, we watched a lighthouse by the sea. He said I was his eternal light when he was lost. I said he was my safe harbor after wandering. A sound came from the entryway. I turned, surprised and hopeful, but only saw the delivery guy. He handed me a cake box. “Mr. Julian ordered it. Requested delivery for 7 PM sharp.” Inside was a one-pound Tiramisu. But I was lactose intolerant.

I drove to the apartment complex. The security guard waved my Porsche through without question. Julian’s Audi A8 was parked on basement level B2. Its license plate ended in 668, our wedding date. The elevator required a key card. I stood in the lobby and called Julian. On the seventh try, he finally picked up, his voice laced with suppressed anger. “What’s wrong? I’m with a client.” “I’m in the lobby of The Sycamore Residences,” I said. “Either you come down, or I’ll ask the building management to open the elevator.” A dead silence filled the other end of the line. Five minutes later, the elevator doors opened. Julian stood there, wearing dark blue loungewear I’d never seen before, his collar open, revealing fresh hickeys. Behind him stood a young woman in a silk robe, pinning her bangs with one of my hair clips. “Audrey?” the girl gasped. “Oh my god, Julian, why didn’t you say anything sooner…?” I recognized her. Chloe Yang, a marketing management trainee hired last year during campus recruitment. I had personally put her employee badge on her when she started. She’d told me she envied Julian and my love story. Now, she wore my wedding ring on her ring finger. Last year, I mentioned my ring felt a bit loose and needed resizing. Julian had offered to take it to the jeweler. Later, he said the jeweler suggested a complete redesign, which would take three months. “Let’s talk upstairs,” Julian reached out for me. I shrugged him off, pulling the pair of watches from my bag and throwing them to the ground. The sound of the watch faces shattering echoed through the lobby, and the security guards looked our way, alerted. “Happy Birthday, Julian,” I said, turning towards the revolving door. “The divorce papers will be in your inbox tomorrow.” Behind me, Chloe cried out, “Audrey, you’ve misunderstood! We were just discussing a project…” I pressed my car key, and the Porsche’s headlights cut through the dusk like a knife. In the rearview mirror, Julian stood rooted, only looking down at the mess on the floor. I knew that posture too well. In our junior year, when I was hospitalized with acute appendicitis. After signing the surgical consent form, he had stood in the hallway just like that, staring at his sneakers for forty whole minutes. “Audrey,” he’d said then, “what would I do if something happened to you?” Now, his expression was identical. Only this time, his “what would I do” no longer included me.

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Julian handed Serena every agonizing detail of my assault. The raw, unfiltered horror of it all. Serena, an unknown director, was desperate for an award-winning hit. A breakthrough that would make her name. And Julian, my boyfriend and my defense attorney, kept it all a secret from me. The day of the documentary premiere, I still went. On the giant screen, the desperate humiliation that had shattered my life was twisted, edited to look like a transaction – me selling my body for money. And the men who had ruined me? They were portrayed as “lost youths” who just “couldn’t resist temptation.” When the film ended, Serena was hailed as a star, flanked by admirers as she was escorted onto the stage. She smiled, her gaze finding Julian in the audience, and introduced him to everyone: “This is the lawyer in charge of the case, also the legal consultant for my documentary, my muse, my inspiration.” The audience erupted in applause, and the host gushed about them being a match made in heaven. Amid Julian’s stunned gaze, I slowly raised my hand. “I have a question for this ‘muse’ lawyer.”

The host clearly hadn’t anticipated this, but professionally handed me the microphone. “Ma’am, what’s your question?” I didn’t take it immediately. Instead, I stared across the sea of people, straight at Julian. His lips moved silently, forming words. “Skylar, don’t make a scene.” I forced a twisted smile and took the mic. “Mr. Hayes.” I began, my voice quiet but amplified, echoing through the entire theater. “I’d like to ask, as the legal consultant for this documentary, do you confirm that all content in the film is based on fact, especially the parts concerning the victim, Skylar Davies?” I used my full name. Skylar Davies. A name he had once again personally dragged into the abyss, and then nailed to a pillar of shame. Julian’s face went even paler. He looked like someone had choked him, unable to utter a single word. On stage, Serena reacted quickly. She gracefully took over, her smile flawless. “Miss, thank you for your question. I can responsibly tell you that our team has rigorously verified every detail.” “Mr. Hayes, as the lead attorney for this case, provided us with the most authoritative and authentic information.” She paused, shooting Julian an almost proprietary, adoring glance. “It’s precisely because of Julian’s help that we were able to get so close to the truth, isn’t that right?” Julian gave a stiff nod. But his eyes were locked on me, filled with a desperate plea and a stark warning. “Is that so?” I scoffed softly, turning the microphone to myself. “Then why do I know a completely different version?” Boom— The crowd erupted. After all, I was publicly crashing their party. Camera flashes exploded around me like crazy. Reporters, like sharks scenting blood, instantly stirred into a frenzy. “Didn’t they say it was a true story?” “Are there unknown secrets? This is juicy! Tomorrow’s headlines are set.” The host clearly hadn’t expected me to call them out so directly. He tried to regain control. “Everyone, please quiet down! Quiet down! Miss, please…” “Please what? Don’t speak out? But should the truth be twisted like this?” I looked at Julian, walking step by step towards the stage. Security guards tried to stop me, but the frantic reporters pushed them aside. That winter, I walked out of the precinct after giving my statement, trembling, barely able to stand. It was Julian who pushed through the crowd, came to me, and wrapped his coat around my shoulders. He held my icy hands and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m Julian Hayes, your defense attorney. I’ll get you justice.” His warmth then was my only light. Now, I was walking towards him. Standing just a foot away, I could clearly see the cold sweat beading on his forehead. “Julian,” I looked him dead in the eyes, asking each word distinctly, “The film claims Skylar took ten thousand dollars from them, and everything was consensual. So, is that how it’s recorded in the files you provided to Director Serena?” His throat bobbed, his lips parted, but no sound came out. “Speak up.” I took another step closer. Faced with my accusation, his face was ashen. Serena’s flawless smile finally faltered. She stepped forward, placing herself between Julian and me, adopting the posture of a protector. “Miss, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but the real events are as depicted. Please don’t create a scene here…” “Get out of my way.” I cut her off coldly. “I’m talking to my boyfriend. Who do you think you are?” Serena’s expression instantly froze. “Boyfriend?” She sounded as if she’d heard the most ridiculous joke, turning to Julian, her eyes full of accusation. Julian instinctively took half a step back, avoiding her gaze. The entire hall fell silent. All eyes were on the three of us.

“Julian,” Serena’s voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tremor, “Who is she?” Julian finally spoke, his voice dry, like sandpaper. “She… she’s my client.” He had chosen to distance himself after all. I laughed, tears welling up in my eyes. Serena seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, her gaze towards me now laced with impatience. “Miss, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but since you once entrusted Mr. Hayes with your case, you must know what kind of person he is.” “I can also empathize that some people, after experiencing trauma, might fall for someone who helped them.” “But I truly hope you won’t continue to be unreasonable.” “Client?” I raised the microphone, my voice suddenly sharp. “So, you’re saying Mr. Hayes can treat his clients however he pleases?” “He can slice open her wounds, display them raw and bloody for everyone to see, then pour salt on them and tell everyone she deserved it?” “He can hand over a hospital diagnosis of severe depression to Serena, so she can edit it into proof of the client’s mental instability!” “He can change photos of torn clothes into evidence implying seduction!” “Julian, don’t your nightmares ever scream at you?” My voice was shrill, laced with blood and tears. The theater was deathly silent, broken only by my ragged breathing. Julian was pushed back by my questions, his face as white as paper. The people present didn’t understand what was happening, what could render the usually articulate Mr. Hayes utterly speechless. Suddenly, as if all strength had been drained from him, he mumbled, “I… I was doing it for her own good…” “For her own good?” I repeated those four words, finding them utterly absurd. “So you turn the real victim into a slut who sold her body for money?” “And beautify the perpetrators into lost youths?” “Julian, can you look me in the eyes and tell me who this was really for?” It was for Serena, your childhood friend who has been lying in wait for years, desperately needing a hit to prove herself! I didn’t utter the words, but my gaze said it all. Serena’s face completely changed. She probably never imagined that her meticulously planned triumphant masterpiece would turn into a public trial. Seeing this, the host immediately signaled for security guards to step forward. “Miss, please calm down, we…” “Don’t touch me!” I shrieked, violently swatting away the hand reaching for me. In that instant, dark memories flooded back. The cramped room, the stale air, the men’s heavy breathing, and those dirty hands pressing down on me… “Ah—!” I hunched down, clutching my head, trembling uncontrollably. The world spun, my ears buzzed with static, Julian’s and Serena’s faces distorted and twisted before my eyes. Julian rushed over, trying to help me up. His hand had barely touched my shoulder when I violently flung it away. “Don’t touch me!” I looked up, my bloodshot eyes fixed on him. “Julian, you’re disgusting.” My voice was soft, but it landed like a heavy hammer on his heart. Just then, a reporter couldn’t help but ask, “You’re saying all this as if it’s true, but what evidence do you have to prove any of it?” Soon, others chimed in: “Yeah, this is Director Serena’s and Mr. Hayes’s crowning achievement! Are you just a hater hired by a rival?”

These questions made Julian’s face turn even uglier. He looked at me almost pleadingly. Serena also quickly spoke, “Miss, I don’t care who paid you, if you keep spreading lies, I’ll pursue legal action against you.” All eyes were on me. Some probing, some mocking, some sneering. I opened my mouth to speak, but Julian grabbed my arm. “Stop making a scene, I’ll take you home.” He snatched the microphone from my hand and quickly pulled me away. My attempts to defend myself were drowned out by Serena’s voice speaking into the mic. Suddenly, a loud voice rang out: “Police! Make way!” The crowd parted, and a man in a trench coat, with a refined face, walked through. He walked directly up to me. “Ms. Davies, do you remember me?” I looked up, and through my blurry vision, a familiar face came into focus. It was Detective Miller, the officer who handled my case back then. He rescued me from Julian, took off his jacket, and draped it over my shoulders. Shielding me from those scrutinizing gazes. “I’ll take you out of here,” he said, his voice low but with an undeniable authority. I nodded. As I passed Julian, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go.” His voice was hoarse, tinged with a hint of pleading. “Let’s talk properly.” I looked at him and suddenly felt ridiculous. At this point, what was there to talk about? I spoke calmly. “The moment you handed that diagnosis to Serena, there was nothing left for us to talk about.” That diagnosis was my deepest nightmare. It documented every breakdown, every instance of self-harm, and my most complete despair with this world. I had only shown it to him. Because I thought he was my savior. He stayed by my side, recording my pain while transforming it into a badge of honor for another woman. My gaze shifted from his face to Serena, standing behind him. Serena had regained her composure. She looked at me, lowering her voice. “Skylar, don’t get too smug.” “Do you really think causing this scene today will destroy everything? You’re just a mentally unstable slut. Who’s going to believe anything you say?” Her words were like a poison-tipped knife, precisely piercing my most painful spot. My body stiffened. Julian and Serena had already paved this dead end for me. It turned out, no matter what I said, they could always explain everything away with “she’s mentally ill.” I looked at Julian, my heart sinking little by little. Suddenly, Detective Miller’s deep, authoritative voice echoed through the entire viewing hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, aren’t you curious why this woman knows all of this so clearly?” “Because she is the victim of the 619 case, Skylar Davies.” “I was the lead investigator on the case. The truth of the case has been maliciously distorted and used to mislead the public. The police department will pursue legal action regarding this matter.”

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I woke up to find a naked stranger lying next to me, not my husband. My husband stood by the bed, his voice cold. “Divorce. You’re leaving with nothing.” My head throbbed. I tried to recall what happened. Dylan’s startup had failed, and he was on the brink of bankruptcy. To help him raise funds, I’d had my mother’s heirloom appraised. The appraiser said the jade bracelet was worth over a hundred million dollars and even gave me a buyer’s contact info. That night, Dylan cooked for the first time, celebrating this sudden fortune. I had a few too many drinks and fell into a deep sleep, vaguely sensing Dylan’s fervent passion in bed. The next thing I knew, it was midday… I looked at Dylan. “Wait, let me explain!” I scrambled up, finding my clothes scattered on the floor. The man beside me was still asleep. I dressed as quickly as possible and rushed to the living room. Dylan was there, face grim, smoking. His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, were also present, their expressions like thunderclouds. Mrs. Jenkins glared at me, a venomous look in her eyes. “Dylan works his fingers to the bone, and you pull this kind of disgusting stunt? You’re a disgrace! Why don’t you just drop dead?” “Mrs. Jenkins, listen to me—” “Don’t you dare call me that. It’s sickening.” The disgust in her eyes seemed to overflow. “Just looking at you makes my eyes burn. How can you be so shameless? I remember you used to say you’d tear anyone who cheated limb from limb.” “I actually thought you were pure. How could I have been so blind? I never imagined you’d be such trash. If I’d known, I would have never agreed to your marriage with Dylan.” “Alright, that’s enough from you.” Mr. Jenkins cut her off. He looked at me. “We caught you in the act, plain and simple. Don’t bother explaining, we’re not interested.” “Dylan’s mom and I will stand by whatever Dylan decides.” My husband, Dylan, pointed to the divorce papers on the table. “Sign them. We’ll go our separate ways.” I picked up the divorce papers silently. Everything was spelled out in black and white. All real estate and cars would go to Dylan. I would also have to pay Dylan a million dollars for emotional damages. One clause, in particular, stood out. I was to return the jade bracelet that Mrs. Jenkins supposedly gave me. Seeing that line, I instantly understood everything. I said nothing, walking back into the bedroom. Sure enough… the jade bracelet in the jewelry box was gone. Sudden disaster and untold riches often turn family into foes. They were trying to seize my jade bracelet to claim that hundred million. And here I was, yesterday, thinking of sharing that joy with Dylan first, only for him to stab me in the back. And… I looked at the man still in bed. Dylan would stop at nothing to get his hands on that hundred million. Face grim, I returned to the living room. “Give me back the jade bracelet, and tell the man in there to turn himself in, or I’m calling the police.” “Calling the police?” Mrs. Jenkins glared at me. “You have the nerve to call the police?” I ignored her, looking directly at Dylan. “Are you returning it or not?” Dylan crushed his cigarette underfoot. He looked at me. “Out of respect for our marriage, I’ll give you one chance. Sign the divorce papers right now, or I’ll call the police.” He wanted to call the police too? I wanted to see what grounds he’d use. I wanted to see how he’d twist the truth once the cops arrived.

“Dylan, I won’t sign. Let’s see you call the police.” Dylan actually pulled out his phone and started dialing. He looked at me. “You confirm you won’t sign? I’m hitting dial right now.” “Hitting what dial?” Mr. Jenkins shot him a glare. “Aren’t we embarrassed enough? This kind of thing is best handled privately.” Mrs. Jenkins, however, looked at me. “You pulled such a disgusting stunt, and now you want to cling to Dylan? Do you think our family is that easy to bully?” “If you have any decency left, sign the papers already.” I stared at Dylan. “Dylan, you know the truth better than anyone. Call the police right now. Let’s see if you can be so calm and composed in front of them.” “The truth?” Mrs. Jenkins stood up, pointing at me. “Do you think we’re blind? That man is still lying in your bed! You want to cause more trouble? This is what happens when Dylan spoils you.” “Dylan works so hard on his startup, and he still has to take care of you, feed you, provide for you. And you? You decided to cheat on him instead, making a fool of him.” “Dylan!” I cut Mrs. Jenkins off with a sharp cry. “Your parents don’t know what I’ve done for you, but you do, don’t you?” “Where did your startup funds come from?” “Who’s been supporting our household expenses?” Facing my angry questions, Dylan looked at me calmly. “Valerie, I’ve tolerated everything you do, but you’ve crossed my line today. We have to divorce.” “I’ll say it again. If you’re not signing, I’m calling the police right now.” “Your unreasonable antics won’t work anymore.” Those two sentences from Dylan completely broke my heart. My annual income, with year-end bonuses, easily topped two million dollars. He came from a humble background. To spare his ego, I never talked about my job or my salary in front of his friends and family. Even his parents didn’t know. Before marrying Dylan, I already had assets worth tens of millions. I was the one who gave him ten million dollars for his startup. And now he was doing this. “I confirm I won’t sign. Go ahead and call the police.” Dylan pressed the dial button. “Hello, I’d like to report a crime. Someone has illegally entered my home. Yes… my wife brought a third party in.” The police arrived quickly. The man in the bed was also woken up. He looked at the police, bewildered and terrified. Dylan stood by, stating that he’d been busy with company matters recently and hadn’t been home. He’d decided to come back that morning and found me in bed with another man. Cheating is immoral but not illegal, so the police usually can’t intervene. Dylan’s reason for calling the police was illegal entry. That, they would investigate. “Ms. Valerie, do you know Mr. Oliver Hayes?” “Yes.” My face was pale, but I did indeed know the man in bed. “Are you close?” “Yes.” Oliver, a student four years my junior. I’d hired him at my company. He was my junior in school and my mentee at work. These facts would be easy to verify, so there was no point in lying. “Did you bring Mr. Hayes to your home?” “No.” “Mr. Hayes, how did you get here?” Oliver lowered his head. “Ms. Valerie invited me. She said she had good news to share. I never expected that after a few drinks, we’d… we’d… give in to passion.” “You’re lying!” I glared at Oliver. “Oliver, have some conscience! Tell me honestly, how much did Dylan pay you?” “Ms. Valerie, the truth always comes out. Since we’ve been caught, what’s there to be afraid of? Leaving with nothing? So what if it’s a hundred million? I’ll earn more in the future.” Dylan suddenly grabbed Oliver’s collar. “Wait, what did you say? A hundred million?”

Oliver shoved Dylan away and looked at the police. “Ms. Valerie said a bracelet Mrs. Jenkins gave her was appraised as an antique worth a hundred million. She was afraid that if she sold it, Dylan would divorce her and she wouldn’t get the money.” I quickly interjected, “You’re lying! Officers, they’re working together! That jade bracelet is my mother’s heirloom, it was never from Mrs. Jenkins!” “Valerie, are you saying I conspired with an outsider to cheat on myself?” Dylan glared at me, showing me his phone screen. “Look at this.” On his phone was a screenshot of a SnapChat conversation between me and Oliver. The messages were intimate, clearly showing that I had invited Oliver over. I looked at the chat’s timestamp. It was from after Dylan and I had gotten drunk. He had been plotting this all along. I suddenly remembered something. “Officers, there’s a security camera in my living room. Please check the footage!” Dylan’s face turned cold. “Valerie, you’re really something. You and Oliver were afraid to leave evidence during your rendezvous, so you destroyed the camera. Now you’re screaming to check the footage, hoping there’ll be no evidence? But your little scheme failed today. I caught you red-handed.” My last sliver of hope shattered. The police soon took Oliver away, and the atmosphere in the house grew even heavier. Dylan was the first to break the silence. “Sign the papers.” “Your whole family set me up.” When Oliver said the jade bracelet was from Mrs. Jenkins, she remained calm, even telling the police it was a family heirloom. From that moment, I knew everything was a setup orchestrated by his family, and Oliver had been bought off. “Sometimes being smart isn’t a good thing,” Dylan said, looking at me. “Sign it. With your earning power, your life won’t be that bad.” His coldness contrasted sharply with his usual tenderness. I couldn’t help but remember how we met. I used to work a lot of night shifts back then, and security wasn’t as good as it is now. One night, I was harassed by thugs, and he saved me. After that, he’d wait for me every night on that street and escort me home. I was always busy with work and didn’t have time for relationships. His appearance brought a new possibility into my life. His attentiveness made me fall in love. I didn’t care about his background; I just wanted a good person. But now, this man was a stranger to me. He’d already admitted it was a setup, and I actually calmed down. I looked at Dylan. “I think you should understand that if I sold the jade bracelet, I would have given you the hundred million without hesitation. And my future income would also support your career. Why did you have to plot against me?” “An old hag trying to play coy is still an old hag. You’re thirty-five, Dylan’s twenty-six. What twenty-something guy truly falls for an ‘older woman’ when there are younger options?” A strange voice came from the second bedroom. A woman in a nightgown emerged. She sat next to Dylan. “Does my appearance help clear up your confusion?” Dylan’s hand rested on her belly. “Her and my baby is on the way. We need to register the birth, and no matter how much money we needed, you’d have to make way for her. Besides, I think a hundred million is enough for us to live on. I’m not greedy.” “Of course, if you’re willing to stay by my side, I can let you be a mistress. Once her and my child is born, you can even help raise it.” I had never imagined anyone could say such shameless words. I tried my best to remain calm. I stared at the woman. “Youth doesn’t last forever. He can betray me, and he can betray you too.” “Trying to stir up trouble?” The woman smiled. “Valerie, let me tell you a secret.”

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The very day my father ‘died’, Liam Harrison called off our engagement. He immediately turned around and got engaged to his childhood sweetheart, planning to kick me out of my own home. He was sprawled on the couch in my family’s mansion, his expression chillingly indifferent. “Your dad’s gone, so there’s no need to hide it from you anymore. Amber’s pregnant with my child, and I have to take responsibility for her.” “If you can just stay by my side, be subservient and take good care of Amber and the baby, I might still throw you a bone. Otherwise, get out!” Liam’s mother, Maureen, who used to be our household help, stepped forward, hands on her hips, jabbing a finger right at my face. “I worked as a maid for the Vance family for twenty years. Your father just up and died, leaving nothing behind! This mansion? Consider it my compensation. From now on, you’re the maid here!” Looking at the arrogant sneers on their faces, a cold chill spread through my heart. My father’s ‘death’ was actually just a stunt, a strategic move in a brutal business war. Who knew it would expose the true colors of this mother and son duo so perfectly.

“Eleanor Vance, didn’t you hear my mother talking to you? Are you staying, or are you going to pack your things and clear out now?” Important documents in my father’s study, and my mother’s precious belongings – they’re all still here. I can’t leave. “I’ll stay.” A flicker of triumph flashed in Liam Harrison’s eyes. “Smart girl. Glad you know your place. If you’re willing to stay, then do as my mother says. From now on, you’re the maid of this house. Lunchtime is almost here, go make some food!” “Amber will be over soon. She loves honey-glazed salmon the most. Hurry up and make it! And remember, every single bone must be picked out clean!” I froze. Maureen suddenly lost her temper. “What are you staring at?! That’s my grandchild in Amber’s belly! What’s wrong with asking you to de-bone a fish? Still think you’re the rich heiress you used to be? Your dad’s dead! Didn’t leave you a single cent!” “Stop acting like some pampered princess! Get to the kitchen and clean that fish, now!” Maureen quickly ripped off her apron and flung it at me. “Hurry up and follow me! I’m only showing you once!” Liam, buttoning up his shirt, urged me on. “Faster, faster! Don’t drag your feet. If Amber arrives and you haven’t finished, you’ll see how I deal with you!” He casually picked up my father’s car keys and drove off. I watched Liam’s receding figure, feeling a strange disconnect. Just a month ago, he was kneeling before my father, repeatedly kowtowing, thanking him for agreeing to let me marry him. He was just a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, decent enough, but always lacking courage. He only really started making something of himself thanks to my father’s constant support and countless opportunities. My father had been vehemently against the marriage, but it was Liam’s meticulous attention, his always-agreeable attitude, that finally swayed his mind. Who would have thought that less than a day after my father’s ‘death’, he’d already morphed into a monster. “What are you looking at?! He’s not your man anymore!” A cold, fishy-smelling pair of scissors clattered onto my foot. Maureen roughly nudged me. “Stop daydreaming! Cleaning this fish is what matters now!” Ribbonfish bones are tiny and numerous. Maureen, fearing I wouldn’t be thorough enough, refused to let me wear gloves. My fingertips were a bloody mess, riddled with thorns, before I’d even cleaned half the fish. My father also loved ribbonfish, but he was never good at picking out bones. Yet whenever he asked Maureen to make it, he’d always say she was too old, afraid she’d hurt herself. He never made her de-bone them. I met Maureen’s ugly sneer with a cold smile of my own. Go on, dig your own grave. What goes around, comes around. Under Maureen’s relentless urging, the dishes were all on the table just as Liam walked in, his arm wrapped around Amber Reed’s waist. Honey-glazed salmon, barbecue ribs, creamy truffle pasta, and a rich beef stew – every single one was a dish Liam had specified, Amber’s favorites. Only the simple steamed broccoli in the corner – my favorite. Liam knew that, but he merely glanced at it before sweeping it straight into the trash can. “Eleanor Vance, how many times have I told you? Amber doesn’t eat vegetables! What’s the meaning of putting a plate of broccoli on the table?” “That’s my—” “Yours? When has my mother, the maid, ever sat at this table in twenty years? Is that a place for you, a maid?!” “For your insolence, you won’t be eating lunch today! Just stand by Amber’s side and serve her!” This wasn’t my first time seeing Amber. Every previous meeting, she’d been all smiles, calling me ‘Ellie-jie’ with sickening flattery. Now, her expression had soured. She daintily pointed a finger at the fish, her voice a sickly sweet whine. “Ellie, darling, could you please get me a piece of that ribbonfish? I’d love to taste your cooking.” “Amber, that fish is closer to you than it is to me…” “Eleanor! What are you blabbering about?! Amber told you to serve her, so serve her!” “And ‘Amber’? Is that how you address her? From now on, you call her Mrs. Harrison, got it?” Something inside me clenched. I mumbled for a few seconds, feeling utterly disgusted, but the words still wouldn’t leave my mouth. Seeing my hesitation, Amber snuggled deeper into Liam’s embrace, letting out a simpering giggle. “It’s fine, Liam, don’t bother Ellie. Just let her serve me.” Desperate to avoid any more sickening encounters, I picked up my forks and reached for the dish of fish. My forks had just touched the fish when Liam suddenly called out, “Wait!” He quickly pulled out his phone from his pocket, exchanged a look with Amber, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “The Vance heiress serving others – now that’s a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle! How could I not go live? Wouldn’t want to disappoint all those guys who used to fall all over themselves for you, would we?” The moment I reached to serve Amber the fish, Liam went live…

“Make sure you check every single bone for Amber!” As I meticulously tore apart that piece of fish, checking every tiny fragment, I saw the live chat exploding with comments. “OMG! Isn’t that the Vance heiress? What’s she doing in an apron, serving people?!” “Of course! Her dad died, and now she’s serving her ex-fiancé’s new girlfriend – the one who’s already pregnant! What else is she gonna do? A fallen queen is worth less than a peasant!” Suddenly, a notification for a huge, extravagant gift popped up. “Hey streamer, here are ten Royal Supercars! How about you make the fallen heiress eat someone’s leftovers, right out of their mouth?” Liam’s eyes lit up greedily. He grabbed his phone, ready to respond. I quickly pulled his arm. “Don’t agree. I’ll give you all the jewelry from my box. It’s worth far more than those gifts.” Fearing Liam would refuse, I pleaded, “Liam, for the sake of all those years we spent together, leave some dignity for yourself—and for me.” “We never had ‘feelings.’ If I had any, they were for your dad. Now he’s dead, so what ‘feelings’ are you even talking about?” He snarled. “This house is mine now. Your jewelry? That’s my property too! Stop wasting my time!” The moment Liam typed “Okay” on the screen, Amber had already chewed up the fish she’d just put in her mouth and spat it out right in front of me. “Ellie, darling, go on, eat. I even left you a little flavor.” The live stream audience had already surpassed 1 million. Royal Supercars scrolled across the screen, one after another, as the comments section went wild. “Eat!” “Eat!” “Eat!” Before I could even react, Liam grabbed my head and shoved my face down towards the plate. The heap of filth Amber had spat out pressed directly against my lips. A putrid, fishy stench filled my nostrils. I couldn’t hold it in. I kicked Liam hard with all my might and retched violently. The comments section instantly exploded. “Didn’t even eat it, just threw up? What’s wrong, streamer? This isn’t good enough, refund! Or make her eat what she just threw up!” Liam grabbed my collar and yanked me up, his eyes cold and vicious. “Eleanor Vance, are you useless or what?! You absolute trash! Get that mess back in your mouth, now, or listen to what the top donor says!” The comments section boiled over again, constant notifications showing the stream being shared. “Wow, Mr. Harrison! Now you’re ordering around the Vance heiress? No longer a kept man, are we?!” “Mr. Harrison, you’re awesome!” “Mr. Harrison, my idol!” The sycophantic comments in the chat only inflated Liam’s already colossal ego. Seeing me hesitate, he stepped forward, intending to shove my face onto the table again, just like before. I’d only intended to play along with their cruel game, but this? This was beyond my limit. The instant Liam charged at me, I grabbed a dinner knife from the table and plunged it straight into Liam’s palm. “Ahhh!” Blood splattered across my face. Liam let out a piercing shriek of agony. Maureen and Amber instantly sprang from their chairs, rushing at me in unison. I pointed the knife directly at them. “Who dares move?! One step, and I’ll end you!” Maureen and Amber immediately froze, not daring to stir. Liam, seeing me holding the knife towards his mother and Amber, ignored the gash in his hand. He grabbed a nearby dinner plate, aiming to smash it at me. Maureen’s eyes darted around. After two seconds of frantic thought, she rushed forward to stop Liam. “Son, don’t be impulsive. She was a pampered heiress for over two decades. Who knows what powerful people she still knows? Going this far, this early, might not be wise.” “Anyway, she’s already been humiliated, and we’ve got the gifts. Let’s just leave it at that for today…” Liam gradually calmed down. He smashed the plate on the floor, then looked at me. “You’re a disgrace. Clean this place up! I’m taking Amber and my mother out for dinner. Keep your phone on and stay available. I’ll call you if I need anything!” “Oh, and clear out your bedroom for Amber. From now on, you’re in the guest room!” With that, Liam put his arm around Amber and, along with Maureen, stormed out, slamming the door behind them.

No sooner had they stormed out than I received a text from Chloe, the manager of the bridal boutique. [Ellie, a girl named Amber Reed just came in, demanding to try on your wedding dress – the one we just finished altering for you! We’re about to call the police.] [No, don’t. Let her try it. Make sure she’s well ‘served’.] Chloe is the daughter of one of my father’s oldest, most trusted friends. She was probably in on the whole ‘stunt,’ but we had to play the part perfectly. When my father ‘left,’ he’d repeatedly warned me not to let anyone suspect a thing. If this plan succeeded, the Vance family would be untouchable, securing the top spot among the country’s wealthiest families for the next three decades. This was no time for me to slip up. Thinking this, I also dismissed the idea of calling someone to clean up. I started to pick up the mess on the table myself, piece by piece. Halfway through, Liam called. “Get to the bridal boutique. Be here in 20 minutes.” When I arrived at the bridal boutique, I immediately spotted Chloe, her face a mask of furious indignation. Following her gaze, I saw Amber already wearing the wedding dress that had just been altered for me. She was much shorter than me, so the long train of the dress dragged ludicrously on the floor, looking quite comical. “Do you have any concept of time?! I told you to be here in twenty minutes! Look how late you are! Eighteen whole minutes!” To keep up appearances, all my premium credit cards had been frozen. A cab from our mansion would have cost hundreds of dollars. I’d taken buses and subways to get here. “What are you gawking at?! Can’t you see the dress is dragging on the floor? Go help Amber hold it up!” “Hey! What’s wrong with you?! This is Ellie’s dress! It’s one thing for Ellie to be generous enough to let her wear it, but you’re making Ellie serve her?! Are you out of your mind?!” Chloe furiously defended me. Liam sprang from his seat and aimed a slap at Chloe’s face. “You’re the crazy one! Her dad’s dead! You still think she’s some pampered heiress?!” I instantly stepped in front of Chloe and took the full force of the slap right across my left cheek. Perhaps the incident with the knife still rattled Liam, because when he saw he’d hit me, he didn’t say another word. My face swelled up instantly. Chloe looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears and guilt. I patted her hand, giving her a look that said I was okay. Then, I knelt down to help Amber hold up the train of the wedding dress. In the mirror, Amber looked at me, a highly provocative and mocking smile playing on her lips. Then, she deliberately leaned back, her fifteen-centimeter heel grinding directly into the back of my hand. Excruciating pain instantly shot from my fingertips, through my hand, and up my arm. Before I could even make a sound, Amber shrieked in a high-pitched voice, “Ellie, if you’re upset I’m wearing your dress, just say so! Why would you push me? I have a baby in here!” Seeing this, Liam immediately stepped forward, and a slap landed squarely on my face. “Eleanor Vance, how could I have never seen how evil you truly are?! I knew something was up when you suddenly became so agreeable, doing whatever you were told! You’ve been plotting something wicked all along, haven’t you?!” “Stop making a scene and embarrassing everyone! Get out of here and go home!” Unable to afford a cab, I had to take the bus. The moment I boarded, I became the center of attention. “Isn’t that the fallen heiress from the Vance family? I just saw her get slapped at the bridal shop! Look, you can still see the marks on her face!” “Right? If she doesn’t serve Mrs. Harrison well, she’ll get even more beatings later!” “Serves her right! She’s had it good for too long, it’s about time she got a taste of hardship!” Amidst the cacophony of cruel whispers and insults, I received a text from Chloe. [Ellie, just hang in there a little longer. My dad just sent a message. In three days, everything will turn around.]

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Mom pinned me down, roughly digging the candy Dad had given me right out of my mouth. Then she turned to Dad and said, “All your sweetness, it’s just for me! No one, absolutely no one, can steal your love from me!” Dad picked Mom up in his arms. “You’re my one and only princess.” Eight-year-old me stood up, trembling, tears streaming down my face. Dad had promised me, if I kept quiet about Brittany, I’d get candy every single day. Bang! The door to Mom and Dad’s bedroom slammed shut. Mom’s cries echoed from inside, a constant stream of pleading. Was Dad hitting Mom again? Just this afternoon, he’d promised me he’d only ‘hit’ Brittany from now on, never Mom. I looked out the window. It was already dark. Half an hour later, they emerged. Mom’s clothes were torn and disheveled. Her face was flushed, covered in red marks, yet she smiled at me and said, “Mommy’s so tired, no dinner tonight. There’s instant ramen in the cupboard; just make yourself something.” Dad gave her a doting look. “You should rest if you’re tired. I’m going to work overtime tonight. Didn’t you say you wanted a new bag? My overtime pay should definitely cover it.” Mom laughed, cupped Dad’s face, and gave him a big kiss. “You’re the best, honey!” Then, she looked at me with a triumphant smirk. “See? Dad’s mine. He buys me bags, not you.” My jaw dropped, staring at her in disbelief. Had Mom gone crazy? She took a shower, then went straight to bed. I pulled up a stool to the kitchen counter, filling the kettle and setting it to boil. Dad looked utterly exhausted as he walked over to me. He slipped a candy into my hand. “Smart girl, you gotta hide this one well! Don’t let Mom find it.” I happily tucked the candy into my pocket, nodding enthusiastically. He playfully tapped my nose. “Remember our deal, okay? Don’t ever tell Mom about your tutor, Brittany. Be a good girl, and tomorrow Dad will give you chocolate.” Then, he left. Dad worked so hard. I filled a thermos with hot water for him, planning to catch him before he drove off so he could take it to work. Good, Dad hadn’t driven away yet. Wait… why was Brittany also in the car?

I crept quietly to the car window and heard Brittany and Dad chatting. Dad had his head buried in Brittany’s neck. “Don’t be mad, it’s all my fault. But what could I do?” Brittany’s eyes were red as she kept pushing him away. “You were just with me all afternoon, and you still went and touched her?” “I didn’t want to, but you didn’t see her! God, it was sickening. She’s so old, still trying to act like a young girl, batting her eyelashes. If I don’t give in, she just clings to me forever.” Brittany started crying. “How much longer do we have to live like this? When are you finally going to divorce her?” Dad pulled her into a tight hug. “Soon, soon, I promise. Don’t worry.” Brittany looked up and suddenly saw me in the rearview mirror. She shrieked, a sound that pierced my eardrums. “You… what are you doing here?” Dad quickly pushed Brittany away, opened his door, and rushed out to me. “Cherry, what are you doing here?” I was startled too, tears welling up in my eyes. I held up the thermos. “Dad, I boiled some hot water. I wanted to bring it to you, I was afraid you’d forget to drink water while working overtime tonight.” Dad finally let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Oh, that’s what it is. Does Mom know you came out?” I shook my head. Dad cupped my cheek. “Dad’s office has hot water, don’t worry. Take this back and drink it yourself. Brittany has some errands, and I’m just giving her a ride.” Just then, Brittany got out of the car too. “Cherry? Oh my goodness, you scared me! Have you eaten? Here, this is for you.” She handed me a bag containing an exquisite strawberry cake. “Just remember our little secret, okay? Tell them your dad bought it for you.” I stared intently at the cake inside, nodding happily. Then, Dad opened the trunk and handed me two bags. “This is the dress you need for your performance tomorrow. Your teacher said pink, so take it home. The other one is for Mom.” Wait, that’s not right. I thought I heard earlier… The other dress was too big for Brittany, and she complained the material was itchy. But she didn’t want to bother with returns, so she just left it. Adults are so strange. How did it become a dress for Mom?

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Ever since my best friend, Chloe, got divorced and had nowhere to go, I let her move into my place. I never imagined she’d try to claim my home as her own. When I refused, she trashed me online, accusing me of seducing her husband and causing their divorce. She even claimed I’d swindled all his money to buy my luxury apartment. The entire internet branded me a toxic bestie, wishing death upon me. What I never expected was for her ex-husband to step forward, corroborating her lies and claiming I seduced him. But watching the internet tear me apart, I couldn’t help but smile. Chloe sat on my sofa, three stacks of crisp bills clutched in her hand, which she then slapped onto my coffee table. “Mia, transfer the ownership of this apartment to me. Consider it a testament to our friendship all these years.” This apartment was worth ten million dollars. The irony was, just yesterday, I’d pulled some strings and finalized her daughter Lily’s school admission. I had planned to surprise her over dinner this weekend. Instead, she’d given me this massive “surprise” first. “Chloe, do you even hear yourself?” I set down my water glass, trying to keep my voice calm. Chloe immediately frowned, the smugness on her face dissolving into annoyance. “Mia, how good are we? You’re so well-off now; you don’t even need this apartment!” “But I’m different. Lily is starting school soon, and we can’t do that without a home!” “Can’t you just understand how hard it is for me as a mom? You wouldn’t refuse to help me with such a small thing, would you?” I patiently explained, “It’s not that I don’t want to help. But if I agree, this apartment would be legally yours. Even if you’re in a tough spot, you shouldn’t be asking for something like this.” At that, Chloe shot up, slamming her hand on the coffee table. “You’re living so comfortably now, what’s wrong with giving me a hand?” “I think you’re just stingy! Selfish! Terrified I’ll take advantage of you!” “If I’d known you were like this, I never would have been good to you in the first place!” Her temper flared like spilled gasoline. I was still trying to patiently explain when a small figure suddenly darted towards me. It was Lily, Chloe’s daughter. She clutched a plastic toy knife, aiming it right at my leg. “Bad lady! You’re bullying my mommy! I’m going to kill you!” Lily’s eyes held a viciousness unsettling for her age. The plastic tip of the toy knife poked my leg. It didn’t hurt, but it made my stomach churn. I froze. Lily’s upbringing had always been rough. Before, she’d snatched toys from other kids and even hit them. I’d constantly urged Chloe to teach her better. But Chloe always brushed it off, saying kids would grow out of it. Now, it was clear: it wasn’t a kid’s problem; it was an adult’s. “Lily! What are you doing!” I instinctively pushed her away. Chloe immediately pounced, shielding Lily in her arms. “Mia! Are you crazy? Hitting a child?” I took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger bubbling inside me. “Don’t you think you should do something about your daughter’s behavior?” Chloe, however, became enraged, yelling: “Is Lily wrong? You ARE a bad woman! Bullying us mother and daughter!” “I’m doing this for Lily’s schooling. As her godmother, can’t you just give me the apartment for her sake?” I had felt pity for Chloe and Lily, letting them stay here temporarily. Now, it seemed like a huge mistake. I sighed in exasperation, “I’m not giving you this apartment. You two need to move out now.” Chloe’s eyes immediately widened. “You were the one who let us move in! Now you want to kick us out? No way!” “Today, you either transfer this apartment to me, or we’re staying here indefinitely!” She stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, an utterly unreasonable look on her face.

I stared at Chloe’s unreasonable face, a fire blazing fiercely in my chest. But thinking of our decade-long friendship, I forced myself to calm down. I tossed and turned all night. Ultimately, I still softened. I decided to tell her that Lily’s schooling was already sorted. Maybe then she would back off a little. So I grabbed my phone, opening the screenshot of the principal’s reply from yesterday. But just then, a trending news alert for our city popped up on the top of my screen. The headline stabbed at my eyes. “Best Friend Sits on a Million-Dollar Home While Forcing Mother and Daughter onto the Streets.” My hands trembled as I clicked on the video. Chloe sat on the living room sofa, her eyes red and swollen from crying. “I know I don’t have much, and maybe I don’t deserve to be her best friend, but she shouldn’t treat me like this!” “Not only is she kicking us out, but she also hit my daughter and called her ill-mannered!” “Most importantly, she seduced my husband. Our divorce? It’s all her fault!” The comments section exploded, filled with insults aimed at me. “This woman is too cold-hearted, isn’t she? Does having money make you superior?” “To be so ruthless after a decade of friendship, who would dare be friends with her?” “And seducing her best friend’s husband? That’s just disgusting!” My phone shook in my hand, blood rushing to my head. Unable to hold back, I stormed to her room door and violently pushed it open. Chloe was busy replying to comments on her phone. Seeing me, a flicker of panic crossed her eyes. “What are you doing here? This is my room, get out!” I didn’t say a word. I just raised my hand and slapped her across the face. *SMACK!* The sound was sharp and clear. That slap was for my decade of genuine friendship, and for her vile slanders. Chloe clutched her face, stunned for two seconds before she shrieked, “Mia! You dared to hit me?” Then, she immediately turned her phone towards me, the live comments scrolling wildly. “OMG! This b*tch is hitting people!” “So arrogant! Hitting someone live on camera!” “We have to cyberbully her! Make her pay for bullying people!” It was then that I realized she had been livestreaming. She did it on purpose. She intentionally provoked me to make a fool of me in front of the entire internet! “Get out! Get out of my apartment, right now!” Chloe suddenly laughed, a cold, sinister sound. “How can you afford a million-dollar apartment and live so lavishly? Isn’t it because you seduced my husband? You swindled all his money, and that’s how you bought this place!” “My husband used to be so good to me. Ever since he met you, he started to act cold! He stopped bringing money home. I bet you took it all!” “You’re a whore! You specialize in ruining other people’s families and still dare to bully me!” Chloe had clearly rehearsed her lines, dumping all the blame on me in one go. With those words, the livestream chat went completely wild, a deluge of insults raining down on me. I was so furious I could barely breathe. Just then. A heavy knock echoed from the front door. Chloe immediately ran to open it. The person at the door was indeed Mark, Chloe’s husband. His face was ashen. He didn’t give me a chance to speak. He raised his hand and slapped me. 2. My cheek burned. Mark’s slap was so powerful it felt like my bones would shatter. Then he roared into the camera: “Mia! You’re a bloodsucking liar, a manipulative whore who preys on men!” “This luxury apartment? You clearly bought it with my stolen money! How dare you try to kick us out?” The livestream comments surged even faster, vile words densely covering the screen. “It’s true! This woman looks innocent, but she’s so evil underneath!” “She needs to return the money! Give Chloe justice!” “Mark, don’t be soft! Today, you get back what’s yours!” Clutching my burning cheek, I glared at Mark in a fury: “What nonsense are you spouting?! This apartment was paid for with my parents’ inheritance! It has absolutely nothing to do with you!” Chloe’s lips curled into a sneer. “Mia, we’ve been best friends for over a decade. I know how tight your finances were growing up! Better than anyone!” “Your parents died so young. Back then, you couldn’t even afford college tuition and had to borrow money from me! Where would you get an inheritance?!” “What can you do besides seducing men and swindling their money?!” The commotion soon alerted the neighbors. Several people gathered at the door, starting to gossip about me. “No wonder she could buy a luxury apartment so young. Her money must be dirty…” “A girl in her twenties, how could she have such means? Definitely relies on men!” Their whispers pierced my ears like needles. “Have you forgotten how I treated you all before?” I couldn’t help but roar. Ever since inheriting my parents’ estate, I had genuinely been good to Chloe. Any designer bag she liked, I’d buy for her the moment I saw it. The total was easily over a hundred thousand dollars. When she got married, I gave her a fifty-thousand-dollar cash gift and personally helped decorate her wedding venue. Mark wanted to buy a BMW and was thirty thousand dollars short. When Chloe asked me, I transferred the money that very day, without even asking for an IOU. Even after Lily was born, every time I visited, I bought her clothes and toys, caring more than her own mother. But now, they were conspiring to slander me. Chloe scoffed, “You did all that just to seduce my husband, didn’t you?” “Until you tricked him out of every penny! Forcing him to divorce me!” Mark held Chloe close, his gaze firm as he addressed the camera: “Wife, don’t worry! Once this is sorted, I’ll remarry you and make it up to you and Lily!” “As for a whore like Mia, she just disgusts me now!” I trembled with rage again. I couldn’t fathom how they could be so shameless, so utterly vile! “You two are slandering me, fabricating lies! Aren’t you afraid of the law?!” “Slander?” Mark’s face darkened, then he pulled out his phone and played a video. “Mia, you forced my hand. Now everyone gets to see how you seduced me back then!” When I saw the video’s content, my pupils constricted. I gasped sharply.

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