My brother was drugged, and I was the one he turned to. In the haze of his fevered need, I undid the buttons of my blouse. When I found out I was pregnant, my parents revealed a lifelong secret—we weren’t biological siblings—and told him to marry me. The day he agreed, he went out street racing and crashed his car. I didn’t care that he was paralyzed from the waist down. I was determined to be his bride. I thought he would be moved, that we would grow old together. On our wedding night, I woke to the acrid sting of smoke. Our villa was on fire. My first thought was to get him out. Instead, he smashed a vase over my head. As my consciousness faded, I heard his voice, as cold as ice. “You and our parents destroyed my love for Sophie. I’ve already signed over the entire family fortune to her as compensation.” “You all ruined my life. Now, you can die with me.” … I was jolted awake by Caleb’s ragged, pained breathing. I opened my eyes. I was in my own familiar bedroom. There were no festive red decorations, no thick, choking smoke. I was reborn. The shock and joy made my head spin. “Kate, get me a glass of water.” Caleb’s hoarse voice came from the next room, sending a chill down my spine. I glanced at the watch on my wrist. A thin layer of sweat instantly broke out on my back. I had been reborn to the night he was drugged. The sticky warmth of blood blinding me, the searing pain of the fire… it all came rushing back. My first instinct was to run, to get as far away from Caleb as possible. But before I could even find my shoes, he was standing in my doorway. “Kate, I’ve already called Sophie. I need you to drive and pick her up now.” Even through the haze of whatever drug was coursing through him, the suspicion and disgust in his eyes were unmistakable. A bold thought sparked in my mind. He was reborn, too. I nodded numbly, grabbing my car keys. I squeezed past him, my body turned away, and hurried out the door. As I stepped out of the villa, I could still feel the prickling discomfort of his gaze burning into my back. The address he gave me was for an apartment near his office. So, Caleb and Sophie had been living together this early on. He had said I destroyed his love for her. He wasn’t lying. The moment Sophie saw my car, she wrenched open the passenger door and slid in. “How is he now?” She looked anxious, but maybe it was just me, but I could see a flicker of triumphant joy in her eyes. “You’ll see when we get there.” I didn’t want to talk to her. It wasn’t jealousy. It was because neither my mother nor I had ever liked her. Sophie was a scholarship student our family sponsored. At first, my parents adored her. She was hardworking, ambitious, and an incredible student—the valedictorian of her entire city. My parents had personally driven to her hometown to bring her to New York for college. My mother was thrilled. Sophie was a year ahead of me, and with her academic prowess, she could tutor me through my senior year of high school. She was diligent, reporting my progress to my father every week, even after I told her my mother was the one who managed my studies. I always felt there was a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes, but I told myself I was just being paranoid. That changed the night she was harassed by a drunk man. She called my father, crying. When he rushed over, she threw herself into his arms. My father, completely startled, shot his hands up in the air, his face turning pale. My mother, who had just parked the car, saw the whole thing. Through her tears, Sophie explained she saw my father as a paternal figure and was just terrified. My parents comforted her, but after that, she was never invited to our home again, and my father ceased to be involved in her affairs. After graduating, she wanted to study abroad. She came to our house with a basket of fruit, looking pitiable as she asked my parents to lend her money. My mother, never one to be stingy, had her secretary wire her fifty thousand dollars. The day before she was supposed to leave, she came to say goodbye and ran into Caleb, who had just returned home after finishing his master’s degree overseas. The next day, Sophie returned the money to my mother. She said she’d had a change of heart and decided to be more practical, to work and earn the money for her education herself. Caleb, who was on his way out, saw her standing there—dressed simply, her face set with determination—and his eyes filled with admiration. A month later, Sophie was hired at our family’s company as Caleb’s personal secretary. I told Caleb that Sophie wasn’t as pure as she seemed, that she had ulterior motives for getting close to him. “Kate,” he’d said dismissively, “not everyone is as obsessed with romance as you are.” Less than a year later, he had moved her into his private apartment. I pushed the accelerator, the car flying down the road. Sophie gripped the handle, her knuckles white. “Kate, I get that you’re upset, but you’re going to get us killed!” 2 I watched as Sophie rushed into the villa. I didn’t follow. I just sat in the car, my mind a blank slate. I knew exactly what was about to happen between Caleb and Sophie. This wasn’t jealousy. My horrific death in my past life—and the fact that I had dragged my parents down with me—had forced me to see the truth. My love for Caleb was poison to him. Sophie’s words just now had only confirmed it. “Kate, he’s your brother,” she had sneered in the car. “Your twisted feelings for him drove him to study halfway across the world. Now he has me. You need to give up.” So, Caleb had known I loved him all along. He went abroad not for his education, but to escape me. If I had known that sooner, I never would have seen his suffering that night and offered myself to him. Just before she got out of the car, Sophie had added one last thing. “You’re a grown woman now. It’s time you found someone suitable to date and marry.” She was afraid I’d keep clinging to Caleb. She didn’t need to worry. I had no feelings left for him whatsoever. I sat in the car all night. As dawn broke, I finally got out and went inside. Caleb was walking down the stairs, dressed in a silk pajama robe. “Where were you last night?” he asked. His neck was dotted with fresh, pink love bites, and his voice was a husky, lazy drawl. “I was with Mia,” I said. Mia was my best friend; Caleb had met her before. The fact that he even thought to ask where I’d been gave me a flicker of hope. Maybe he had let go of the past, too. Maybe now we could finally go back to being normal siblings. “I know you look down on Sophie’s background, that you think she’s poor,” he said, his tone hardening. “But let me tell you, she is the woman I am going to marry. From now on, you will treat her with respect.” When had I ever looked down on her background? A confused expression must have crossed my face. “Don’t give me that arrogant look,” he snapped. “She sacrificed herself to clean up the mess you made.” I was even more confused. “What are you talking about?” Caleb’s patience wore thin. “Are you going to deny that you were the one who drugged me last night? Sophie is such an innocent girl. She wanted to save herself for our wedding night, and you ruined it.” “I didn’t,” I retorted, my voice rising. I had loved Caleb for years, but I would never resort to such a cheap, disgusting trick. “I had dinner with Sophie and came straight home. The only thing I had after that was the glass of milk you always leave on my nightstand. If it wasn’t you, who was it?” In my past life, I had always wondered why he never investigated who drugged him. I just assumed it happened while he was out and he was too embarrassed to talk about it. I never knew he thought it was me. No wonder he hated me so much. Hated me enough to want to burn our parents alive just to make me suffer. Hated me enough that he couldn’t even bear the thought of my child—his child, growing inside me for six months—taking its first breath. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and my eyes stung. “Believe what you want. But it wasn’t me.” Just then, the door to Caleb’s room opened. Sophie peeked out, wearing one of his button-down shirts, looking like a startled little rabbit. “Caleb… is Kate mad at me?” 3 Caleb’s eyes shot me a warning look. “Kate wouldn’t do that,” he said, his voice softening as he looked at Sophie. “She’ll only wish us the best.” “He’s right, sister-in-law,” I said, forcing a smile. “You rescued my brother. I’ll speak to Mom and Dad for you, I’ll get them to agree to the wedding.” A flash of glee crossed Sophie’s face. Caleb’s eyes narrowed, filled with suspicion and doubt. What was there to doubt? He was willing to die for her. Even if she was a manipulative monster, I wouldn’t risk my parents’ safety for anything. “Don’t make things difficult for your aunt and uncle,” Sophie said, her voice soft and demure. “I know I’m not good enough for Caleb. I just want to be by his side.” So, that’s the type he likes. The green-tea bitch type. No wonder he never loved me. Caleb wrapped a protective arm around her. When he wasn’t looking, Sophie shot me a triumphant smirk. “Kate,” she cooed, “your brother… he ripped my clothes. Could I borrow something of yours?” “What about that dress I bought you last month?” Caleb said, not looking at me. “I’ve never seen you wear it. If you don’t like it, just give it to Sophie.” That was his birthday present to me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it; he knew perfectly well I cherished it too much to wear it. He wanted to take back a gift he’d given me. My heart gave a painful little flutter, but the feeling quickly subsided. Sophie put on my dress and twirled around beautifully. Ignoring me completely, she threw her arms around Caleb, pouting and asking if she looked pretty. It didn’t bother me. This time, all I wanted was for my parents and me to live. My parents were on vacation for two weeks. The day they returned, Caleb immediately announced his intention to marry Sophie. When I got home, the floor was littered with the shards of a shattered teacup. My mother was grim-faced, rubbing my father’s back soothingly. Caleb sat opposite them, his expression unreadable. “Mom! Dad!” I ran over and threw myself into their arms, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. Their faces instantly softened. “Look at you, still such a child,” Dad said, ruffling my hair. Mom pulled me onto the sofa beside them. “Your brother wants to marry his secretary. What do you think, Kate?” my father asked. He doted on me the most. Caleb’s gaze, cold and distant, shifted to me as well. “I think it’s wonderful. Sophie and Caleb are a perfect match.” My mother’s brow furrowed. “Do you really think so?” “Mom, Caleb is twenty-six. He has the right to choose his own happiness. We should support him.” What good would it do to object? We couldn’t stop him anyway. Seeing my parents were still hesitant, I continued. “It doesn’t matter if you like Sophie or not. Caleb likes her. After they’re married, we can live separately. I’ll stay with you and Dad forever.” My words seemed to ease their tension. I quickly shot Caleb a meaningful look. It was a silent signal we’d had since childhood. Whenever he wanted something our parents disapproved of, I was the one who would smooth things over before he made his case. “Mom, Dad, after Sophie and I are married, we’ll take good care of you. Please, give us your blessing.” Seeing Caleb kneel solemnly on the floor, I added my own pleas. With no room left for negotiation, my parents finally, reluctantly, agreed. Caleb got his wish. He would marry Sophie. The tragedy of my past life shouldn’t repeat itself now. My clenched fists slowly relaxed. After my parents went to their room to rest, I returned to mine. I had just opened my journal to write when the door was suddenly thrown open. I looked up. It was Caleb. His eyes fell on my open journal, and his face instantly darkened. I had barely stood up before his hand was clamped around my neck. “Kate, are you still writing down those filthy thoughts you have about me?” His hand was large, his grip tightening. I couldn’t breathe. “What… are you… saying?” I choked out. Caleb snatched the journal. “Isn’t this the same kind of diary you used as a teenager to document your incestuous feelings for me?” He had read my diary. He had dared to read my private thoughts. Rage and humiliation burned through me. I clawed at his hand, wrenching it free. I grabbed the journal and threw it at his chest. “What is wrong with you? Isn’t it enough that I’m letting you have her?” I screamed. “It was my mistake to love you! I don’t love you anymore! What more do you want?” I rarely got angry with him. He seemed stunned. “You love reading my diary so much? Then read it!” I sobbed. “I am writing about a man in there. It’s just not you.” With that, I shoved him aside and ran out of the room. 4 “You really agreed to date my brother? You’re really going to be my sister-in-law?” Mia’s shriek in the middle of the coffee shop turned several heads. I quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. “I ran into him the other day,” I mumbled, my face flushing. “We just… hit it off.” Mia rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Spill. You turned my brother down last time he asked you out. How did you two get together?” Mia’s brother, Leo Harrison, had indeed confessed his feelings for me six months ago. Back then, my world revolved around Caleb, and I had rejected him. This time, after I was reborn, I was determined to correct my past mistakes. But at home, Caleb and Sophie were a constant presence, their sickeningly sweet displays a daily torture. Sophie never missed an opportunity to flaunt her ownership of him. Even though I retreated again and again, assuring her I had no designs on Caleb, it was useless. I had no choice but to escape. One night, feeling miserable, I went to a bar. I had a few too many drinks and was cornered by some creep outside the restroom. Just as tears of panic started to well in my eyes, Leo appeared out of nowhere and laid the guy out with a single punch. When he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe my tears, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Leo, you’re like a character out of an old movie. Who even carries a handkerchief anymore?” He just shook the plaid cloth in his hand. “Do you have any idea how expensive this piece of fabric is?” “It’s not as convenient as a tissue,” I teased. He sighed and nodded in agreement, then tossed the priceless handkerchief into the trash. “Whatever Kate says, goes.” Mia used to complain that her brother wasn’t as cool and refined as mine, that he was more like a reckless playboy. But that “playboy” had taken over the Harrison family business and, in just three years, nearly doubled the company’s market value, earning him a fearsome reputation in Chicago’s business world. That little handkerchief brought us closer. Whenever I was in a bad mood, I would text him, and he always managed to say something strange and unexpected that would make me laugh. In this new life, the most relaxed I ever felt was when I was talking to Leo. “I thought CEOs were supposed to be busy. How do you have time to chat with me all day?” I texted him once. He replied almost instantly. “Because it’s you on the other end. I don’t want to make you wait a second longer than you have to. I’ve basically been holding my phone 24/7 these past few days.” Was this what it felt like to be loved? It was a feeling Caleb had never given me. This time, I wanted to know what it was like. I agreed to give things a try with Leo. I’ve kept a diary since I was a child. The man in my recent entries was him. I don’t know if Caleb read it or not. When I returned home, the diary was sitting neatly on my desk. Caleb was gone for several days. I took the opportunity to tell my parents about my relationship with the heir to the Harrison fortune. I made them promise to come live with me after I was married. They nodded indulgently, as if humoring a child, but I didn’t care. They had agreed. They had to stay by my side. That night, Caleb brought Sophie home for dinner. Dressed in designer clothes, she almost managed to look elegant. The mood at the table was tense, but thankfully, there were no major blow-ups. After dinner, we were all sitting in the living room. “Caleb, Sophie,” my father began, “we won’t object to your marriage, but there are some things we need to make clear beforehand.” Caleb’s gaze kept drifting to me, making me deeply uncomfortable. Sophie sat up straight, her eyes gleaming as she looked at my father. “Caleb is getting married, and Kate has a boyfriend now. To avoid any future conflicts, I’m telling you both now: the Vance family assets will be split equally between the two of you.” Before Caleb could say anything, Sophie blurted out, “That’s not fair! Kate is a daughter, after all. She’ll be marrying into another family. That’s basically just handing over our family’s wealth to outsiders!” My mother, who had barely looked at Sophie all evening, spoke up, her voice dripping with ice. “You’re not even married into this family yet, and you’re already trying to call the shots. Isn’t it a bit early for that?” I looked at Caleb. He was looking at me, a strange smile playing on his lips. “Maybe Kate’s boyfriend is only with her for our family’s money.” He pulled Sophie closer. “I agree. A 50/50 split isn’t fair.” Sophie snuggled against him. “Kate is the adopted one. I don’t mind supporting her for the rest of her life. She can marry whoever she wants and continue to live here.” My parents’ faces turned terrifyingly grim. I saw my father’s shoulders begin to tremble slightly. “Who told you Kate was adopted?” my father’s voice was dangerously low. “The one who was adopted… was you.”

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1 Her father saved my mother’s life. For that, I left my home in the secluded mountain Glades, bound to him by a life-debt. The terms were simple: stay by his daughter Seraphina’s side for six years, to repay ninety-nine acts of grace. Only then would I be free. For six years, I catered to her insatiable appetites, exploring every fantasy with her, letting her drag me into the thrill of the outdoors. She seemed to love me with a fierce, possessive passion, once buying me an entire yacht just to see me smile. The final act of grace remained unfulfilled. She promised me a surprise, something special for my birthday. That day came, and on a massive screen before all our friends, she played a video of me, naked and entangled with a much older woman. My five-year-old daughter, Lisa, smashed my birthday cake into my face. “You’re a bad man!” she shrieked, her little voice cracking. “You’re not my daddy!” Cream and blood slid down my cheek. I looked at Seraphina, lost. She was laughing, her arm linked with her childhood sweetheart, Joey. “Your mother was a home-wrecking whore who seduced my father and drove my own mother to her grave,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “I wanted everyone to see just how filthy you really are.” “Kevin,” she said, her voice a cruel mockery of our shared name, “the final debt you owe me is to watch Joey and me get married.” I stared at her, my world tilting on its axis. The woman who had been whispering sweet nothings and feeding me wine just a moment ago now looked at me with chilling indifference. I stumbled forward, my voice a whisper. “Sera… there must be some mistake…” She shoved me, hard. I tumbled back, splashing into the icy water of the pool. As I flailed, gasping for air, her words rained down on me like shards of glass. “Stop acting so innocent! You and that bitch mother of yours know exactly what you did!” she screamed. “Do you have any idea how much it sickened me to even look at your face for these past six years? Now that Joey is back, you can get the hell out of my sight.” Lisa watched me with cold eyes. She picked up an empty wine bottle from a nearby table and hurled it at my head. It struck my forehead with a sickening crack. As blood streamed down my face, she turned to Joey and smiled, a sweet, terrifying smile. “Joey, I punished the bad man. Can you be my daddy now?” In one single, brutal moment, the wife who had shared my bed and the daughter I had adored with all my heart turned on me, savaging me to win the affection of another man. The pain was a physical thing, a spear through my chest. Tears I couldn’t stop welled in my eyes and streamed down my face. “That’s a bit much, Sera,” a voice cut through the haze. It was Vanessa, Seraphina’s best friend. “Kevin has been with you for six years without any official title. He agreed to have a child with you when you didn’t want to get married, he even let Lisa take your name.” She had security guards pull me from the pool, my body shivering and broken. But her words only fueled Seraphina’s rage. “Oh, I underestimated you,” she scoffed, her eyes raking over me with disgust. “Sleeping with my best friend behind my back now, are we? You’re just as cheap as your mother.” “Always babbling about repaying some debt. I don’t have time for your little games. You’ll be in my debt for the rest of your life!” she spat. “Vanessa, you still want him? I left whip marks on him last night. Go on, take a bite.” Her words were daggers, each one twisting in my heart. There was a time when she would have destroyed anyone who dared call me a country bumpkin. Now, she was the one inflicting the deepest wounds. Her six years of tenderness and love had been a lie, a carefully constructed stage for this single, devastating act of revenge. All this time, she had hated me. I came to repay a debt, but I stayed because I had fallen in love with her. In her eyes, though, I was nothing more than a gold-digger, a parasite clinging to her wealth. I had been waiting for this birthday, hoping, praying she would finally agree to marry me. Instead, the ring she had custom-made now shone on Joey’s hand. Joey looked at me, his face a mask of contempt. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself in that video. Don’t tell me you weren’t a willing participant.” He put a protective arm around Seraphina. “You only had Lisa to trap her! You don’t even love your own daughter!” His accusations were a performance, meant not to defend her but to humiliate me. My face burned with shame and rage, but all I could do was shake my head, speechless. I couldn’t tell them it was Seraphina who had begged me to make those videos, that she was the one who promised me a real family, a real title, on this very day. A sharp, searing pain shot through my lower body, and my legs began to tremble uncontrollably. I felt a horrifying wetness, and saw blood beginning to stain my trousers. I met Seraphina’s gaze, my voice barely a croak. “Sera… I just had the enhancement surgery you wanted…” Joey scoffed. “Who knows which one of your little lovers that was for.” The air left my lungs. I swayed on my feet, the world dissolving into black spots. Vanessa rushed to my side, grabbing my arm. “Kevin, you need a hospital. Let me take you.” But my eyes were fixed on Seraphina. My voice was a dry, rasping sound. 2 “The ninety-eighth debt,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash. “You said you wanted me to get the enhancement, to give you a better experience.” A cruel smile touched her lips. “Do I need you? Your body is bland, uninteresting. The thought of touching you makes me want to vomit. Vanessa, he’s just a dog I kept. He’ll never be able to leave me.” I bit my lip, swallowing the question that clawed at my throat: What did Lisa and I ever mean to you? I already knew the answer would be nothing but more poison. Seraphina had planned this for six years, meticulously crafting a dream for me only to shatter it with her own hands the moment I believed it was real. How could she be so cruel? The pain in my groin intensified, a throbbing, relentless reminder of my own stupidity. My expression went numb. “Please,” I said, my voice flat. “Call an ambulance. The surgical wound has torn open.” Even as I lay on the operating table, her venomous messages kept coming. [Kevin, it’s just a torn stitch, not a death sentence. Your mother killed MINE.] [And don’t forget, next month, you’ll be witnessing my wedding to Joey.] She had promised to marry me, to stand before the world and give me a place by her side so no one would ever look down on me again. Now, all I had was shame and infamy. Because of a debt, my mother, who had died long ago, was branded a seductress. And I was left to endure Seraphina’s merciless revenge. The day of her wedding would be the day my debt was finally paid. The day I would finally leave. In the Glades, we have a saying: a broken heart is a debt that can never be repaid, but a faithless partner is a chain that must be broken. After I was discharged, Vanessa offered to drive me home. I managed a weak smile and refused. “Seraphina will take it out on you. You two have been friends since you were kids. It’s not worth fighting over me.” She looked at my pale face, hesitating. “You really love her that much? Even after all this, you can’t let her go?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “The debt I owe her family… it’s almost paid in full.” She didn’t understand, of course. She just sighed. “You and Sera were never going to work. You’re from different worlds. She and Joey grew up together. You should just try to forget her. As for Lisa, the Steinbergs will take good care of her.” “I’ll help you leave town tomorrow,” she offered. “It’ll be better than watching her get married.” I just shook my head. To the world, I was the pathetic lover, clinging to Seraphina despite her cruelty. No one knew the truth. They didn’t know that my mother’s lungs had failed, a rare condition our healers in the Glades couldn’t treat. It was Seraphina’s father, a visiting scholar, who had rushed her to the city, to the best doctors. Mrs. Steinberg had suffered from severe paranoia and delusions. She became convinced her husband was having an affair with my frail, bedridden mother. One day, in a state of psychosis, she threw herself from a balcony. My own mother passed away soon after. Mr. Steinberg, consumed by guilt, brought me to the city and begged me to stay by Seraphina’s side, who was shattered by the tragedy. It was he who invoked the old ways of my people, sealing the life-debt between us. The rules were absolute: until the debt was paid, I could not go home. Seraphina, lost in her own depression, developed a desperate need for physical intimacy, often keeping me awake all night. She thought my talk of “debts” was just a quaint joke. The tasks I completed were small things—watching a sunrise with her, taking her skiing. When someone once insulted me, calling me a country nobody, she had them secretly beaten. Living with her, day in and day out, I slowly, truly fell in love. When she told me she wanted our child, my heart soared. I thought that even after the debt was paid, I could stay with her forever. How wrong I was. The woman I loved for six years, the daughter I cherished… they now saw me as a thorn in their side. As I reached the gates of the Steinberg estate, a swarm of reporters appeared out of nowhere, their cameras flashing in my face. “Mr. Harrows! Is it true you’re the other man who broke up Seraphina Steinberg and her fiancé?” “Your sex tape is all over the internet! Why would you cheat on a woman like Ms. Steinberg with a sugar mama?” “We heard you were injured down there. Was it a client? Will it affect your… performance?” I tried to back away, but they swarmed me, laughing, taunting. One of them even tried to pull down my pants to “get a look.” They were like vultures, jeering as I stumbled and fell, clutching my chest, struggling to breathe. “Look at him, playing the victim again. Is that how you sell yourself, Harrows? Is that the type of thing these rich ladies go for?” “Check out the hickey on his neck. Must have been a wild night.” “Did he piss himself? Your pants are all wet!” They shoved me, pushing their cameras closer to film the fluid still seeping from my surgical wound. 3 I curled into a ball on the cold pavement, shaking. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, and I sobbed, the sound raw and humiliating. The villa gates swung open, and the reporters scattered like roaches. The butler stood there, his face a stone mask. I was left alone, a pathetic, broken heap on the ground. Staggering into the courtyard, I saw Lisa running towards me, her eyes wide and tearful. For a fleeting, hopeful second, she looked like the little girl I knew, the one before Joey had poisoned her mind. “My kite… it’s stuck in the tree…” Her voice was small and sad. Forgetting my own pain, I immediately followed her. But as I pulled on the kite string, a massive, buzzing hornet’s nest dropped from the branches, right onto my head. Lisa was already a safe distance away, laughing. “You stupid idiot!” she screamed, her face twisted with malice. “That’s for using me to get to my mommy! You deserve it!” A swarm of angry hornets enveloped me. Stinging fire erupted all over my exposed skin. I trembled, trying desperately to shield my face as a thousand tiny needles pierced me. Purple welts rose on my skin, and the shock slowly turned into a heart-shattering numbness. I remembered all those sleepless nights, walking the floors with a crying infant Lisa in my arms. The memory was now just a cruel joke. A peal of laughter echoed from above. Seraphina stood on the second-floor balcony, Joey’s arm wrapped around her waist, both of them watching my torment with amusement. “Look at him, Sera,” Joey chuckled. “He looks like a pig’s head.” He raised his voice to mock me. “Hey, Kevin! Think any of your rich old ladies will want you looking like that? I doubt anyone could stomach it.” The woman who used to fret over a paper cut was now watching me covered in stings, a satisfied smile on her face. This must have been what she wanted all along—to see me humiliated by my own daughter, branded a whore by the press. Numbly, I tried to get back to my room to treat the stings, to just lie down. But my belongings were piled in a heap outside the door to the small utility closet. Seraphina looked at me with pure disgust. “Trash belongs with the trash. You have some nerve, Kevin, still hanging around my house.” My eyelashes fluttered. “You forgot,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “I have to watch you get married.” A flicker of confusion, maybe even unease, crossed her face. She hadn’t expected that. She expected tears, pleading. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by her customary sneer. “I’m just worried you’ll stick around like a stray dog even after the wedding.” My face was a mask. After your heart has been shattered, the smaller cuts barely register. Once the ninety-nine debts are paid, I won’t linger for a second. A wife and daughter who despise me? They are no longer mine. I just wanted to rest, but the door to my miserable little room swung open. It was Joey, a smug smile on his face. “Kevin, old pal. Sera tells me you’re a fantastic cook. I’m craving some turtle soup. You know, to build up my strength.” Seraphina, seeing the angry red welts covering my body, actually frowned for a moment. A flicker of something—pity? guilt?—crossed her features. She almost seemed to think she’d gone too far. “He’s not a servant, Joey. I’ll have the chef make it.” But Joey just tightened his arm around her waist. “He’s going to be mooching off us after we’re married anyway. Might as well get him used to his new role.” I took a deep breath, about to refuse. “Didn’t you hear what Joey said?” Seraphina’s voice was sharp, all traces of softness gone. “Get moving or get out of my sight forever.” I couldn’t leave. Not yet. So I clenched my jaw and nodded. Fighting the agonizing itch of the stings, I stood in the kitchen, mechanically washing the ingredients. Joey leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. “Hurry it up. My… happiness with Seraphina tonight depends on you.” I bit my lip. “Is there anything else, Mr. Steinberg?” “Who do you think you are, putting on that righteous act?” He suddenly grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the sink. “Does a bedwarmer like you get to look at me with those eyes?” As I struggled, I knocked over a glass of water. Seraphina rushed in at the sound. Joey was already cradling his hand, hissing in pain. “Kevin’s jealous I’m marrying you! He threw boiling water on me!” “I didn’t—” Before I could finish, Seraphina’s palm cracked across my face. She looked at me, her eyes like ice. “Apologize.” A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I lowered my gaze, my voice dull. “It was my fault. Please forgive me, Mr. Steinberg.” Only then did Seraphina seem satisfied. She wrapped her arm around Joey’s and led him away. “Joey and I are going to pick up Lisa. Have dinner ready when we get back.” I was chopping vegetables when my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Are you Mr. Harrows? You’re listed as Seraphina Steinberg’s emergency contact. She’s been in a car accident. She needs surgery.” My mind flashed back. There was a time Seraphina loved hiking. Once, after a small landslide, I couldn’t reach her, her phone going straight to voicemail. I had run out of the house barefoot, frantic with worry, searching for her in the hills. 4 When she finally came home, safe and sound, she had found me, my feet bloody and torn. Her eyes had filled with tears as she cleaned my wounds. That night, she made me her sole emergency contact, promising that I would always be the first to know if anything ever happened to her. She never changed it. But everything else had. Lisa needed a blood transfusion, but the hospital was out of her rare O-negative type. My type. I watched them draw bag after bag of my blood until my lips were white and I was on the verge of passing out. Seraphina’s injuries were far more severe. Her liver was ruptured. She needed a transplant, and the waiting list was long. I didn’t want to wait. I had my bone marrow tested. I was a match. I insisted on being a living donor. The doctors argued, they warned me of the risks, but faced with my unyielding resolve, they finally, reluctantly, agreed. For the next month, I lay in a hospital bed, recovering. And every single day, all I heard were the glowing news reports about the heroic Joey Steinberg, who had so selflessly donated a part of his liver to save the love of his life. I had asked the doctors to keep my identity a secret. I never imagined someone would have the audacity to steal the credit. By the time I was discharged, the wedding was the next day. The Steinberg villa was draped in white silk and flowers. The moment I walked through the door, a teacup shattered at my feet. Lisa stood there, her face puffy with anger. “You dirty thing! You finally decided to come home!” she screamed. “Mommy was right! You just abandoned us!” Joey swept her into a gentle embrace, then fixed me with a look of disappointment. “Kevin. The moment Sera and Lisa were in trouble, you vanished. Now that they’re safe, you come crawling back.” Every word was a carefully aimed dart, painting me as the coward who had abandoned his family. Hearing him, Seraphina’s face hardened, and she shot me a look of pure disgust. “Just like your disgusting mother. The second you thought I was in real trouble, you ran off to screw someone else. Are you back because you’re afraid I’ll take revenge on you and your new lover?” She turned to Joey, her eyes soft with adoration. “While Joey was giving blood for Lisa and donating his liver for me, you were God knows where, with God knows who. I was right about you all along, Kevin. You’re a heartless, back-stabbing snake.” Their accusations no longer had the power to make me cry. I just felt… tired. On the day of the wedding, I tried to make myself invisible, hiding in a dark corner of the grand hall. But I could still feel the guests’ eyes on me, hear their whispers. “Is that him? The lover she kept for six years?” “I heard she doted on him. Why not marry him after the kid was born?” “Lover? Please. He was a toy. Something to pass the time. His sex tape is everywhere. God knows how many rich women have had a piece of him.” I tried to tune them out. But a moment later, one of Joey’s groomsmen approached me. “Mr. Steinberg needs you to help with his tie.” I was dragged towards the dressing room, the unhealed incision in my side protesting with a dull ache. When Lisa saw me approach, she scowled. “You’re so clumsy! Don’t you dare hurt him!” Seraphina stroked her daughter’s hair. “Our Lisa is such a good girl.” The three of them were a perfect, happy family, leaving me to stand awkwardly to the side. I knelt down and began to polish Joey’s expensive leather shoes. He smiled, rolling up his sleeve, revealing a delicate silver chain bracelet with a tiny bell that chimed softly. “Lisa said this brings good luck,” he said, his voice casual. My blood ran cold. My vision tunneled. It was my mother’s. The last thing she gave me before she died. I had searched for it everywhere. And all this time, Lisa had it, and she had given it to him. I clenched my jaw, my voice a dry rasp. “That’s mine.” Joey’s eyes immediately welled with tears. “Kevin, how can you do this to me? On my wedding day? Are you trying to slander me even now?” he whimpered. “I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t be marrying Seraphina!” He “accidentally” kicked out, his shoe grinding down on the back of my hand before I could pull it away. I fell back onto the floor. Lisa glared at me. “You made Joey upset! You deserve it!” Seraphina rushed to comfort him, her voice a soft coo. She glanced at me, at my numb, expressionless face, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. Was she wondering why I wasn’t crying? You can’t bleed from a heart that’s already turned to stone. I stood in the shadows, watching as Lisa presented them with the diamond-encrusted wedding rings. I watched as Joey lifted the veil and pressed his lips to Seraphina’s in a deep, passionate kiss. “I, Seraphina Steinberg,” she declared, her voice ringing through the hall, “take Joey to be my husband, for the rest of my life.” On my arm, the faint, crimson mark that symbolized the life-debt faded away, disappearing into my skin. The ceremony was over. The debt was paid. As the guests erupted in applause, I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Lisa’s sweet, childish voice pipe up. “I love having Joey as my daddy!” Their love was no longer mine. And I was finally going home. Later, as Seraphina was toasting with her guests, Joey’s arm around her waist, she found her eyes drifting to the dark corner where Kevin had been standing. The familiar silhouette was gone. He’s probably hiding somewhere, crying, she thought. No matter how much she hurt him, he would never have the strength to actually leave. She smiled and took a sip of champagne. Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a friend who had just returned from a trip abroad. “Sera? I just saw your little boy-toy at the airport. Where’s he off to?”

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The moment my boss led the new CEO into the conference room, my world stopped. “Ms. Lee, this is our team.” The woman was my ex-wife. Three years ago, she had trampled all over my heart and betrayed our love for her first love. Now, she stood there, her brow slightly furrowed, her eyes locked on me. My boss, a seasoned veteran of the corporate world, saw the look on her face and immediately understood we had a history. His gaze instantly shifted to me. “Mr. Miller and I are the project leads,” he announced, his voice a little too loud. “Quinn, now that you’ve tidied up the conference room, you can go.” He shot me a desperate look, practically begging me with his eyes to leave. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension. “This project must be discussed with Mr. Quinn. Mr. Davis, if you change the person in charge, the deal is off.” Everyone froze. “Ms. Lee… this… of course, of course! Quinn, you… you have a good talk with Ms. Lee!” The boss herded everyone out of the room, leaving me alone with her. Her name was Liana. Her eyes were slightly red as she choked out the question. “These past two years, where did you go? Why didn’t you answer my messages?” 1 Memories flooded back, a torrent of pain I had long since buried. But the hysteria of the past was gone. I just looked at her calmly. “Please, have a seat, Ms. Lee. Let’s discuss the project.” My indifference seemed to throw her. She stared at me, lost in thought for a moment, before finally speaking. “As long as you’re in charge of this project, I’ll sign.” I nodded. “That might be difficult.” Liana raised an eyebrow, then called my boss back in. She repeated her condition. My boss’s face lit up with joy, and he agreed immediately. After Liana left, I sat in the chair, my mind blank. For two years, I had told myself not to dwell on the past. It wasn’t worth it. But the more I tried to convince myself, the clearer the images became, a constant torture. I had finally crawled out of that shadow, only to run right back into her. Liana and I were married for five years. We went from high school sweethearts to husband and wife. On our fifth anniversary, she spent a fortune at an auction to acquire a national treasure that had been lost overseas—a jade bi disk carved with a dragon and a phoenix. She then donated it to the national museum in the name of her first love, Julian. During the press interview, she gazed at Julian, who stood beside her, her eyes overflowing with affection. “This jade disk is my birthday gift to Julian,” she’d said. “We discussed it, and he decided to donate it to the museum. We hope all of our nation’s lost treasures can find their way home, back to the ones they love.” The video went viral. Everyone knew about Liana’s undying love for Julian. The internet sang praises of their epic romance. Even her friends sent me smug, passive-aggressive texts. “Hey, Colin. Your wife’s in love.” “Congratulations,” I typed back. Then I looked at the comments on the interview. They were all filled with envy. “This is what a female CEO’s love looks like? I guess trophy husbands really do exist! I love it!” “Childhood sweethearts and first loves, she’s got all the bases covered!” I shook my head, a bitter smile on my face. I ate the dinner I had spent all day preparing, alone. I put away the flowers, peonies that had been flown in that morning, fresh and vibrant. Her favorite. Now, everything in the room seemed to mock me. It was our fifth anniversary. She was the one who had told me to prepare for it. I waited and waited, all for nothing. It was just an excuse to get me out of the way. In the video, her face was soft, her gaze on Julian tender and loving. With me, she always wore a mask of ice. In that moment, I was just… tired. It was like the last breath had finally left my body. The heart that had been hanging in suspense finally fell. I used to think it was just her personality, that she wasn’t a smiley person. Now I knew better. It was just that I wasn’t the one who made her smile. Our love? A self-deception that only I had believed in. I decided it was time to cut the cord, to stop torturing myself. I called her. “Where are you?” I could clearly hear Julian’s laughter in the background, but she didn’t even flinch. Her voice was as cold as ever. “Working late.” She couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a more elaborate lie. The laughter faded as she moved to a quieter place, trying to make the lie more believable. “Liana, I’m tired. Let’s get a divorce.” Hearing the finality in my voice, she was silent for a moment. Then, she exploded. “Colin, are you insane? What is this now? If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Don’t bother me.” “I’ll have the papers sent to you. Just sign them.” I hung up, ignoring the furious tirade that followed. I looked around the room, so familiar yet so foreign. This was where I had cooked and cleaned for her, washed and dried her hair, massaged her feet. Where I had comforted her, soothed her worries countless times. After five years of marriage, I finally understood. No matter how much I did, how good I was, it was all for nothing. I wasn’t the one she loved. Anything he did was right. And I… I was just a placeholder for when he wasn’t around. A way to pass the time. Better than nothing. I packed up everything that belonged to me and left the place I had once considered my home. I moved back into my pre-marital condo. It wasn’t as big as her villa, but it gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years. I met with a lawyer and discussed the details of the divorce. He was thorough, offering several strategies to ensure a smooth process. I rested for two days. On the third morning, a call from Liana woke me. “Colin, where did you go? Do you think playing hard to get is interesting?” Her voice was laced with her usual accusatory tone. “Get your ass back here. I already bought you a gift.” The same old pattern. Accusations, blame-shifting, all with an air of absolute entitlement. She never considered my feelings, never tried to see things from my perspective. We were supposed to be a team, but in her eyes, in her heart, I didn’t exist. Once, I collapsed from exhaustion at work. At the same time, a stray cat Julian had taken in threw up a hairball. She was so worried about the cat that she walked right past my unconscious body on the floor and drove over 250 miles to be with him. Even a colleague I didn’t get along with showed more concern, calling an ambulance and taking me to the hospital. When I woke up, the first person I saw was my office rival. Even he was willing to help me, paying my bills and talking to the doctors. My wife? She walked past me without a second glance. Not even a single word of concern. Of course, I was upset. I asked her if I even mattered to her. Her reaction was the same as it was now: furious accusations. “Are you going to make a scene over something so small? Didn’t you get the worker’s comp money? If you don’t want to be married, then let’s get a divorce.” She always used divorce as a threat. I never dared to argue back. I used to love her to the bone. I couldn’t lose her, couldn’t live without her. But the images of her and Julian were burned into my mind. To stop her from divorcing me, I had to lie to myself. Every night, I would tell myself that she was telling the truth, that she and Julian were just good friends, that she loved me. I lived in a fantasy of my own making. She remained on her pedestal, ordering me around, and I was the clueless, lovesick fool. But now, I was done lying to myself. 2 I had plans to have dinner with some colleagues. After work, we all headed to the restaurant. As we stepped out of the elevator, I saw her. Liana. She was standing in the middle of the lobby, bathed in the light of the crystal chandelier. She wore a stunning red dress that made her look both glamorous and cold. Her icy eyes were fixed on me. In the past, I would have been overjoyed. To have such a beautiful wife was a blessing. But now, my heart felt nothing. Instead, I saw something else in her gaze. It was a look of pure indifference, as if I owed her a million dollars. Cold and heartless. I suddenly realized that this was how she had always looked at me. I had just been blinded by love, choosing not to see it. Now, my eyes were open. I quickened my pace, pulling my colleagues along with me. The sound of high heels clicked rapidly behind me. A second later, Liana grabbed my arm. “You have a party tonight,” she said, her voice dripping with arrogance. “You promised me.” I paused. I did seem to remember promising her something. I was about to refuse, but my lawyer’s words echoed in my ears. He had told me that since she was ignoring the divorce papers, the best way to get a smooth separation was not to provoke her. It could lead to unnecessary complications. If I was going to push her buttons, I had to choose the right moment. “Fine.” I got into her car. As the scenery outside flew by, I asked, without thinking, “Why are you wearing this dress?” “It’s Julian’s birthday. He likes red.” The words hung in the air. She fell silent, then glanced at me, only to find me staring out the window. After a moment, she tried to explain. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I just thought it was a formal dress, suitable for the occasion.” “Mm.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. She probably didn’t even remember. This red dress… it was a gift from me. She had never worn it for me, never even tried it on in front of me. Her excuse was that it was too revealing, the color too bold for her. But she was the one who had told me she liked red. Now I knew the real reason. Julian liked red. So she had dug this dress out to wear for him on his birthday. She had never cared about me, so she brushed me off with flimsy excuses. She cared about Julian, so she dressed up for him, using my gift to please another man. If she had remembered I gave it to her, she probably would have been too disgusted to wear it. A woman dresses for the one who delights her. The old saying was true. She was a beautiful flower, but she would not bloom for me. The difference between being loved and not being loved was on full display. The car stopped in front of a hotel. A valet led us to a private room. Julian was there, surrounded by a laughing, adoring crowd. The moment he saw Liana holding my arm, I saw a flash of disdain on his face. “You’re finally here! Come, sit,” he said, quickly pulling Liana away from me and seating her next to him. The others quickly filled the seats around them, leaving me standing alone. They all looked at me with smug, mocking expressions. Most of the people here were their friends. They had always believed that Julian and Liana were the perfect match, childhood sweethearts destined to be together. And me? I was just the third wheel who had slipped in after they broke up. I was not worthy of Liana, not in the same league as Julian. In the past, I had been so concerned with Liana’s feelings that I had put up with their taunts and provocations, even trying to win them over. It only resulted in more ridicule. The prejudices in people’s hearts are like mountains; no amount of effort can move them. Now, I chose to ignore them. I found a corner to sit in. What others thought was their business. I wouldn’t let it get to me. “Colin, why are you sitting so far away? You’re already late, aren’t you going to come over and toast the birthday boy and apologize?” I looked up at her, my voice cold. “I don’t want to drink.” I had always been so compliant with her. This small act of defiance, in front of her friends, was a public slap in the face. She was stunned for a moment, then snapped, “What is wrong with you now?” Julian, smiling, gently pulled on her arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay. If Colin doesn’t want to drink, it’s fine.” Liana quieted down and immediately turned to chat happily with Julian. They laughed and talked, and everyone looked at them like they were watching a romance unfold. From my corner, I was the odd one out.

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1 On the way to the hospital for a placental abruption, our car collided head-on with a wedding limousine. I was thrown from the vehicle, a pool of blood spreading beneath me. Through a haze of pain, I watched my husband, Ethan, ignore me completely. Instead, he cradled another woman in his arms, whispering to the driver, “Just run her over. The payout for a fatality is less.” As he spoke, the car lurched forward, straight towards me. I was run over, again and again, until my legs went numb. During the emergency surgery, my husband’s phone was unreachable. But he was there, sitting in the hospital corridor just outside. I could still hear his voice, laced with a chilling relief. “It’s for the best if they can’t reach me. If she dies, we pay less.” … “The patient is in her third trimester. The impact from the collision has made her condition critical. There’s no time to wait for family consent. Page every available doctor to the OR now.” “And get on the phone with every hospital in the city. We need blood reserves on standby in case things go south.” I could hear the head surgeon barking orders, but Ethan, my husband whose phone was perpetually off, paid me no mind. His hands were clasped tightly around the hand of the woman in the wedding dress. “It’s okay,” he murmured to her, his voice a tender caress. “I’m here.” The woman was trembling, but Ethan’s only response was a dismissive, “It’s not that serious. Every woman has babies. If something happens to her, it’s just her bad luck.” In that moment, I almost hated the hyper-acute hearing that comes before death. It allowed me to hear every curse Ethan uttered against me and our unborn child. He wanted us both dead, a neat and tidy tragedy closed with a small payout. If my family tried to make a scene, he had a team of lawyers ready to handle it. In the end, I would be nothing but a box of ashes. Throughout the entire ordeal, he never once came over to even check if it was me, even though I was lying right in front of him, carrying his child. A single glance would have been enough. But he just said the sight of me was too disgusting, that the fat spilling from my wounds would upset the woman in white. He covered her eyes and led her away to a bench far from the chaos. In that instant, every illusion I held about Ethan shattered. The man who had wept with joy when I told him I was pregnant, the man who called everyone he knew to say that marrying me was the happiest day of his life—that man was dead. A minute before the nurses wheeled me into surgery, I saw Ethan’s parents rushing into the hospital. They didn’t run towards me. They ran to Ethan and the woman. His mother’s voice was frantic. “What happened? Are you hurt? Daisy, you can’t get hurt! How would your godmother ever explain it to your mom?” And then she started to cry. The way she held that woman felt so foreign, so strange. The image was burned into my mind even as my vision blurred and the world faded to black. The lights in the operating room were terrifyingly cold, hanging like pale ghosts above me. I could hear the hushed whispers of the doctors and the orderly clatter of instruments as the nurses counted them out. “Massive blood loss. The placenta is exposed. We need to perform an emergency C-section, but we risk a fatal hemorrhage…” “Has anyone been able to contact the patient’s family?” “No. The husband’s phone is still off. We can’t get through to anyone else.” A heavy sigh followed that announcement. A nurse added, “The patient was in a taxi on her way to an appointment when she noticed signs of placental abruption. The collision with the wedding car happened on her way here.” “She’s this far along and her family let her take a taxi by herself? What were they thinking?” Then the anesthesia took hold, and I sank into unconsciousness. I don’t know how difficult the surgery was. I only know that when I woke up again, the room was filled with exclamations of awe. “It’s a miracle. A genuine miracle. To wake up after losing that much blood…” After the head surgeon confirmed my condition was stable, he had me sign the consent forms myself. As I signed, I glanced at the time. A full week had passed. I looked at the surgeon. “My husband?” 2 “We were never able to get in touch with your husband.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Never able to get in touch… what a joke. Then, the doctor’s expression turned somber. “The baby was born alive,” he said gently, “but he was born with… complications. He passed away two days ago.” Clatter. The pen fell from my hand. I grabbed the doctor’s arm, my voice a choked sob. “I… I want to see him.” The doctor exchanged a look with the nurses. They decided to let me. They placed me in a wheelchair and slowly pushed me out of the room, down the long corridor to the hospital morgue. He was in a small, refrigerated drawer. When they pulled it open, I saw his tiny hands, clenched into tight fists. He looked exactly as I had imagined: a perfect, high nose, a small mouth, a dusting of soft, light hair, and faint, golden eyebrows. I reached out to hold him. My fingers met only ice-cold stillness. It was only when I touched him that I saw the stitches on his tiny arm. The doctor explained softly, “During the accident… when you were run over repeatedly… the child was born with his limbs already…” I looked up at him, the meaning crashing down on me. My baby, born alive, had been born with severed limbs. Even if he had survived, he would have been disabled for life. In that moment, the dam broke. I had been trying to steel myself, to accept his death. But I couldn’t accept this. Every single one of my prenatal check-ups had been perfect. The doctors had all said he was developing beautifully. And he had been born… in pieces. No mother could remain calm in the face of such a horror. Ignoring the protests of my own healing body, I insisted on holding him. The cold of his tiny form was shocking, but in my mind, I could still hear his cry, still feel his little hand gripping my hair. Of course, it was all a fantasy. The next thing I knew, I was being carried back to my room by the nurses, having cried myself into a dead faint. I don’t know how many times I wept in that room. It was only when the police came to ask about the details of the accident that I found my voice again. “It was them!” I screamed. “They said it would be cheaper to kill me than to pay for injuries!” “Do you have any proof?” I shook my head. I had been pinned, helpless. How could I have proof? The officer then told me that according to the traffic cameras, I was the one who had run the red light. Worse, while I was still in surgery, Ethan had already taken the woman, Daisy, on a honeymoon. He had left everything in the hands of his lawyer. When the lawyer saw me, he froze. “Mrs. Thorne! What… how are you…?” His eyes widened in realization. “So, the pregnant woman Mr. Thorne’s car hit was… you?” I nodded weakly. The lawyer sat down awkwardly. When I insisted, for the third time, that he contact Ethan, he finally sighed. “It’s no use. Mr. Thorne has his phone turned off. He said he wants to give Ms. Daisy his undivided attention, to make up for her last birthday, which was ruined.” Ms. Daisy. So, the woman in the wedding dress was Daisy. The one I had only met a few times. His childhood friend, Daisy Shen. Her last birthday? Was that the day I found out I was pregnant? I had called Ethan home. I’d then received a furious call from Daisy, screaming that I had stolen her “Ethan” and ruined her birthday. Even Ethan’s parents had berated me, calling me petty and demanding I apologize to her. It was then that I learned the truth. Daisy’s parents lived abroad, and Ethan’s parents had raised her. Growing up, everyone had assumed she would be Ethan’s wife, their future daughter-in-law. Until I came along. Ethan had fallen head over heels for me, insisted on marrying me, and thrown all their plans into disarray. 3 For that, his entire family blamed me. On our wedding day, Daisy had even attempted suicide. She was revived, but the message was clear. And this time, according to the lawyer, Daisy had wanted a grand, fairytale wedding for her twenty-fifth birthday, with Ethan as the groom. So the whole family had conspired to lie to me. They left me, on the verge of giving birth, at home alone while they all went off to celebrate Daisy’s sham wedding. Even Ethan’s closest friends were there. Everyone knew. And no one thought it was wrong. They all kept the secret from me. Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but laugh. A hollow, broken sound. After explaining, the lawyer presented me with the compensation agreement Ethan had drawn up for the accident. “Mr. Thorne was unaware that the victim was you at the time. This settlement is based on standard legal procedure. Please, take a look…” he said, his voice trailing off. “And this is the compensation claim Mr. Thorne is making against you… of course, since you are currently married, I will hold onto this for now.” I scanned the pages, one by one. The lawyer, trying to lighten the mood, glanced at the baby clothes by my bed. “Ma’am, how is the little one doing?” “Stone dead.” The words hung in the air. The lawyer stared at me, stunned. I finished reading and tossed the file aside. “I reject all of these terms. I will be filing a lawsuit. You may leave.” Not long after the lawyer left, my phone, against all odds, rang. I thought it was the lawyer, that he had finally reached Ethan. I answered, only to hear Daisy’s voice. “Sister-in-law,” she chirped, “I just made a birthday wish, and Ethan promised he would make it come true. Can you guess what it was?” I didn’t answer. She chuckled softly. “What’s wrong? Are you sad your baby died?” In that instant, every hair on my body stood on end. She knew. She knew it was me. “I knew it was you all along,” she purred. “That’s why I deliberately called Ethan away. It’s what you deserve for ruining my last birthday. Besides, if Ethan really loved you, why wouldn’t he answer your messages? Why wouldn’t he pick up your calls?” Just as she finished, another voice came from her end of the line. It was Ethan. “Daisy, I have to go back. Your sister-in-law is pregnant, and I’m worried about her. Especially after… after hitting that woman. I just have this bad feeling.” “Ethan, just one more day. Please? Are you going to abandon your Daisy?” I heard Ethan hesitate. I hung up the phone. A day later, I was lying in my hospital bed, waiting for the doctor’s check-up, when I heard a commotion outside. Ethan was back. He was with his parents. “Son, you’re finally back! Can we turn our phones back on now?” “You have no idea, the baby of that woman you hit was torn to pieces. I was so worried something had happened to Chloe, but I was afraid to call and ruin your plans. I’ve been waiting for so long.” “I wonder what kind of soulless thing that woman’s family did for her baby to die so horribly, born without its limbs.” As his mother’s words faded, I pushed open my door. “Yes,” I said, my voice echoing in the hallway. “I wonder what kind of soullless thing they did, for the baby to be born without limbs, with his intestines spilling out…” 4 The moment our eyes met, Ethan froze. After repeatedly confirming with the doctors and nurses that the pregnant woman he had run over again and again was, in fact, me, he suddenly collapsed to his knees. His parents, who had just been mocking me for losing my child, calling it my karma, went visibly pale with shock when they realized that child was the grandchild they had been so eagerly awaiting. Ethan was a crumpled heap on the floor. It took a sedative injection to get him calm enough to lie down. “I didn’t know it was you,” he whispered, trying to take my hand. “I… I really didn’t know.” He stammered, but that was all he could manage to say. He didn’t know. Right. He hadn’t even bothered to look. When I was on the ground, begging for help, he was the one who suggested running me over. And now he wanted to pass it all off as a tragic accident. His eyes were red-rimmed as he slowly pushed himself up. He looked at me. “Chloe, at the time, I was just thinking of the simplest solution. It wasn’t that I actually wanted you to die. You used to be a lawyer, you know how these things work, car accidents…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Yes. As a lawyer, I knew he had made a calculated decision. But he saw that I was pregnant, and he still made that choice. He ran me over without a shred of mercy, even as I screamed for help, even as I begged. I remembered it all. It was seared into my brain, a memory I could never erase. His parents sat nearby, their eyes now filled with a simmering resentment directed at me. Ethan’s mother spoke first. “Can’t you even carry a baby properly? Ethan is gone for one week, and you manage to screw everything up, even get the baby killed. Chloe! Our family is cursed to have a daughter-in-law like you.” “We were just helping Daisy celebrate her birthday. We were gone for a short time, and you deliberately cause trouble. Tell me, did you do this on purpose? Did you want to use the baby to punish us?” Her words twisted everything, placing all the blame on my shoulders. Their celebrating with Daisy was perfectly reasonable, but my losing the baby was a malicious act on my part. “Was it just a celebration?” I asked, my eyes locked on Ethan. A fresh love bite was visible on his neck, not even bothering to be concealed. The ring on his finger wasn’t our wedding band. He fumbled with it, trying to pull it off, but it was stuck. Just then, Daisy burst into the room. She rushed to Ethan’s side, pressing his hand down to stop him from removing the ring.

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1 A new spicy noodle bar opened downstairs. Not feeling like cooking, I dragged my boyfriend over to give it a try. When it was time to pay, I was floored. The bill was two hundred and eighty-eight dollars. I immediately confronted the waitress. “I had potatoes and cabbage, not lobster and filet mignon! You’ve made a mistake with the price.” The waitress just rolled her eyes, her chin tilted defiantly high. “If you can’t afford it, why are you eating out? Are you trying to dine and dash?” I had no interest in arguing with someone so unreasonable. I told her to get her boss. But before the waitress could even respond, my own boyfriend turned on me, his voice sharp with anger. “You eat, you pay. It’s common sense. What’s the big deal, bullying a young girl like this? Just pay the bill! You’re so embarrassing!” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. When I got home, I threw the bastard’s things out the door. “Get out,” I told him. “I’m done being your sucker.” — Slumped on the sofa after work, I scrolled endlessly through a food delivery app, unable to decide what to eat. My boyfriend, Nick, thought for a moment. “That new spicy noodle bar downstairs? Want to go check it out?” he suggested. It solved my dilemma. The shop was clean and simple. We were past the dinner rush, so there weren’t many customers. The vegetables in the selection bar looked a little wilted, probably because we’d arrived so late. A young waitress approached us with a bright smile. “We also have deluxe options, with fresh seafood. Would you like to try some?” I quickly shook my head, declining. Nick and I filled our bowls with our choices, handed them to the young waitress, and took a number to our table. When the noodle bowls arrived, the broth looked surprisingly light. I like my food with a kick, so I called the waitress over to ask for some extra chili oil and seasoning. She had already turned to leave. “If it’s not enough, you can always add more ingredients later,” she said over her shoulder. “Any more sauce and it’ll be way too salty.” Her words left me speechless for a few seconds. Before I could think of a reply, the cashier called out to her. “Fiona, come over here and show me how to ring this up.” The waitress, Fiona, called back an “Okay!” and walked away. Nick was already eating. He looked up from his bowl, frowning. “It tastes fine. Stop being so picky.” A knot of irritation tightened in my chest. I silently pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of my bowl and Nick’s, and sent it to my friends’ group chat with a warning to steer clear. Nick finished first and went outside for a smoke. I went to the counter to pay. And that’s when it happened. “That’ll be two hundred eighty-eight dollars. Credit or debit?” My eyes went wide. I thought I must have misheard. Did she think we’d ordered the deluxe seafood platters? I immediately called Fiona back over. “I had potatoes and cabbage, not lobster and filet mignon! You’ve got the price wrong.” Fiona’s sunny expression instantly clouded over, her face falling into a long, sour mask. I took a deep breath, trying to de-escalate. Fiona waved the cashier away and picked up the bill herself. She glanced at it, then looked at me. “This is the price. There’s no mistake. This is what you ate.” I couldn’t believe it. Was this some kind of restaurant shakedown? 2 I took another deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Two bowls of noodles for two hundred and eighty-eight dollars? Are your prices even legal? Get your boss out here. I’ll talk to him!” It was clear this young waitress, Fiona, was determined to be unreasonable. I didn’t want to waste my breath on her; I’d deal with the owner directly. I was trying my best to be civil, but Fiona’s attitude was bizarre. She almost looked… smug. “Our boss isn’t here. You ate the food, you pay the money. It’s that simple. Don’t try to scare me by asking for the manager!” The other customers in the shop turned to stare, their eyes glinting with curiosity. Fiona covered her mouth in a theatrical gasp, her voice suddenly trembling and pitiful. “You’re not… you’re not trying to dine and dash, are you? I’m just a waitress. I can’t afford to pay for your meal.” At that, the customers’ curious glances turned into full-blown gossiping stares, all directed at me. Nick, noticing I was taking a long time, came back inside. “What’s going on? Hurry up and pay so we can go.” I quickly explained the situation. “Two bowls of noodles, all veggies and tofu, and she’s trying to charge me $288! She’s treating me like a complete idiot!” Fiona looked even more wronged than I felt. Her eyes grew red as she looked at Nick. “Sir, I already gave your girlfriend a discount. Is it really that hard for her to pay for two bowls of noodles?” I almost laughed out loud. The way Fiona was looking at my boyfriend, her eyes practically sparkling… “Stop playing the victim with my boyfriend,” I snapped. “A scam is a scam!” “Get your boss out here. If he dares to post that price on a sign by the door for everyone to see, I’ll pay it right now!” I tugged on Nick’s sleeve, expecting him to back me up. Instead, his next words were a slap in the face. Nick didn’t even look at me. His gaze flickered over Fiona’s face before he violently yanked his arm away from my grasp. “Just pay for the food!” he hissed. “What’s all the fuss about?! Get it over with!” I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. The restaurant was clearly trying to rip us off, and not only was he not on my side, he was attacking me for standing up for myself. “No!” I shouted. “This is a scam, and I’m not falling for it!” As if frightened by my outburst, Fiona looked even more pathetic, tears welling in her eyes as she gazed at Nick. “I’m just a waitress,” she whispered. “You ate the food. You can’t expect me to pay for it, can you?” Her voice cracked. “You’re just picking on me because I’m an easy target. I work so hard, day in and day out… a scam like this would wipe out half a month’s wages!” She pressed on, “And now you want to get my boss involved. Are you trying to get me fired? Can’t you just leave me with a way to make a living?” 3 As Fiona spoke, tears streamed down her face, making her look innocent and utterly pitiful. It was a masterclass in manipulation. But I was confused. I had made it crystal clear: if her boss confirmed the price and made it public for all customers, I would pay. How was I the one making things difficult for her? Right now, it felt like she was the one deliberately cornering me. Nick’s brow was furrowed in a deep frown. He looked at Fiona with an expression that looked suspiciously like… pity? Was I seeing things? He pulled out his phone and started to scan the QR code at the register. “Alright, I’ll pay. This is so embarrassing. Why do you have to pick on a young girl like that!” I slapped my hand over the code, pushing his phone away. “Why should you? This isn’t over until her boss comes out here and clarifies the price!” I was the one being wronged. If he paid, it would be an admission of my guilt, painting me as the bully. I glared at Nick, furious. I couldn’t believe he didn’t understand that. Nick’s face grew darker, his patience worn thin. He met my gaze. “Yara, stop making a scene.” A chill went through me. With those words, he had officially taken the side of the person who was trying to hurt me. “Fine. Fine. This is my problem. You stay out of it.” My voice was ice. I turned away from him, my silence a clear statement. Suddenly, Fiona broke. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hands, her voice rising in a furious shout. “You ate the food and you won’t pay! Have you no shame? You just want to bully a poor waitress, is that it?” She took a dramatic breath. “Fine! Have your free meal! I’ll pay for it myself, alright?!” That did it. The other customers couldn’t stay silent any longer. A chorus of condemnation rose around me. “It’s not easy for a young waitress. You ate, you pay. Why make things hard for her?” “Exactly! You’re being completely unreasonable. This place is clean, the food is good, the portions are generous, and the prices are fair. How dare you call them a scam?” “Just pay the girl! She’s been running around serving everyone, and you’re bullying her? That’s just awful.” “Right? If you don’t have money, don’t eat out. It’s simple.” “She looks so well-dressed and put-together. You really can’t judge a book by its cover.” 4 In an instant, I was public enemy number one. But… two hundred and eighty-eight dollars for two bowls of noodles. That was a fair price? Had I completely lost touch with reality? The people around me were incensed, their glares burning into me. Someone even had their phone out, recording. I fought the urge to scream. In a steady voice, I repeated, “I just want her boss to resolve this. I am not trying to get out of paying.” “I don’t want a free meal, but I refuse to be a sucker.” I looked directly at Fiona. “Your pricing is unreasonable. I’m not trying to cause trouble for you. I just want to speak with the owner.” I thought I was being incredibly composed. But Fiona ignored everything I said, her lip trembling. “It all comes down to the same thing. You can’t afford two bowls of noodles, so you’re trying to dine and dash.” I was speechless. It was like she couldn’t understand plain English. Nick’s face was flushed with embarrassment from all the stares. He just wanted it to be over. “Alright. I’ll handle this. You go outside,” he said, pushing me towards the door. “I’ll pay. I don’t understand why you have to pick on this girl. You ate the food, just pay for it! This is so humiliating.”

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My only friend was from another world. Her mission here, she said, was to save me. She believed in me, protected me, and poured everything she had into helping my husband claim the imperial throne. In the end, she found a love she believed was true, a man she would die for. This world, she told me, had finally given her a home. She wanted to stay. But then I came galloping back from the frontier, riding my horse to its death. All I found was her body, pale and frail, lying cold as ice in a lonely jade coffin. Beside it, her husband stood frozen, a silent statue of a man. Her young son whispered with relief, “Good. I never wanted a crazy woman for a mother anyway.” My gaze fell upon the woman standing beside them, dabbing at false tears. And I thought, I don’t have to pretend anymore. After today, they would learn what a real monster was. 1 When Marcia slit her wrist, there was no hesitation. The physician who examined her said the gash was terrifyingly deep—a wound inflicted by someone with no will to live. A normal person, he’d whispered, could never be so cruel to themselves. Especially not Marcia, who was always so afraid of pain. She was the kind of girl who’d cry over a paper cut, milking it for one of my honeyed cakes. I stared down at her in the jade coffin. Except for the stark pallor of her skin, she almost looked alive. Her beloved husband, Adrian, stood beside the coffin. At his side was a woman in a delicate pink dress, her hand resting on the shoulder of a young boy who looked so much like Marcia it made my heart ache. I let my eyes travel over this pretty little scene, and I finally understood why Marcia had lost all hope. The woman in pink stepped forward and dipped into a flawless curtsy. “Your Majesty, I wish you peace.” I stared at her, my eyes cold, letting her hang in that uncomfortable bow. I watched the muscles in her thighs tremble. My lady-in-waiting moved without a word. A sharp crack echoed as her boot met the back of the woman’s knee. She crumpled to the floor with a pathetic thud, and only then did the knot in my brow begin to loosen. “Aunt Serena!” two voices cried out. The boy, Noah, rushed forward to help her up, but he froze when he saw the look on my face. Adrian simply stared at the coffin, lost to the world, oblivious. It was Serena who saved herself. Without a word of complaint, she lowered her head to the floor. “A thousand years to Your Majesty,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It was this humble woman’s ignorance. I beg the Queen’s forgiveness.” My eyes narrowed. She was clever, this Serena. She knew I was a storm of rage, and that no words, especially from Adrian or his son, could calm me. Their pleas would only fuel my fire. Submission was her only weapon, a clever way to corner me. Marcia never stood a chance against her. I took two steps forward, my silk slippers, embroidered with shimmering thread, pressing down on the fine fabric of her dress. A servant silently placed a chair behind me. I took Serena’s wrist in my hand. A circlet of shimmering green jade graced her skin. It wasn’t a priceless treasure, but I knew what it was. It was the prize Marcia’s seven-year-old son, Noah, had won at the Royal Academy. He had boasted to all his friends that he would win it for his mother. It was I who had instructed the headmaster to ensure Noah won that prize. And now, it was on another woman’s wrist. My fingers closed around the jade. With a sharp, brutal tug, I ripped it from her arm. “My hand slipped,” I said, my voice sweet as poison. “You mustn’t blame me.” Two raw, red marks bloomed on her pale skin, angry and vicious. “This servant wouldn’t dare,” she choked out, biting her lip, looking every bit as pitiful as her name suggested. Marcia would have fallen for that act. Whenever she was angry with me, I would put on the same face, and her resolve would melt. I could coax anything from her then. But who was Serena to me? My hand drifted to her earlobe, where a pair of magnificent pearls dangled. They were my wedding gift to Marcia. I ripped them free without a shred of mercy. Blood streamed from the torn flesh. Noah could no longer contain himself and fell to his knees beside her. “Auntie Brenda, please! I gave them to Auntie Serena! Mother said I could! Please don’t hurt her!” I toyed with the blood-streaked pearls, my expression placid. “And what if I decide to punish her anyway?” Without Marcia, Noah was nothing more than a piece of flesh in my eyes. I had rarely spoken to him with such chilling coldness. He stumbled forward, grabbing at the hem of my gown, trying to win me over with the childish charm that always worked before. My eyes flashed. A guard stepped forward, his blade a silver blur, aimed for Noah’s arm. “What filth dares to touch the Queen!” I turned away from the terrified boy, his face a mask of white, and gestured for my guards to take Marcia’s coffin. As if waking from a trance, Adrian drew his sword, blocking their path. “No one will take Marcia from me!” Adrian was a high-ranking official, a close confidant of the Emperor, William. My guards hesitated, unwilling to harm him. Fine. I would do it myself. My own sword lunged for his heart, without a flicker of doubt. But in the instant before the steel met his skin, a heavy blow struck the back of my neck. Darkness swallowed me whole. 2 It was William. Though the servants wouldn’t dare say it aloud, there was only one person in the entire empire who would lay a hand on me. He didn’t have the courage to face me himself. He sent an imperial decree instead, posthumously naming Marcia a Grand Princess. I shredded the decree with the golden hairpin he had given me. The palace staff knelt in a silent sea around me. The Serene Palace was deathly quiet until William finally arrived. “Brenda,” he said, his voice strained. “Marcia is gone. If you are not satisfied, I can grant her even greater honors.” “How about I kill Serena,” I replied sweetly, “and you can grant her the title of Empress?” William fell silent. “I want them to join Marcia in death.” “That’s impossible.” “Fine.” My answer was so swift it caught him off guard. He looked up, startled. “What did you say?” “I said, fine.” I would do it my way. I forbade anyone from holding a memorial for Marcia—none of them were worthy. Then, I sent my people to the Adrian’s estate to reclaim everything that had ever belonged to her. Adrian met them in the courtyard, sword in hand. Serena knelt beside him, biting her lip, a silent, suffering statue. I merely lifted a hand. My guards swarmed in, pinning Adrian to the ground. His knees slammed onto the marble floor with a sickening crack. He had knelt before me just like this once, years ago, when he begged for Marcia’s hand. I had discovered their secret affair and, to protect Marcia’s reputation, forbade them from seeing each other. So Adrian knelt before the entire court, pleading for me to approve their marriage. Without my blessing, not even his deep friendship with William could secure him an imperial decree. Back then, I had asked Marcia, “If you marry him, you can never go back.” A blush crept up her cheeks. “Brenda, he swore he would have only me for the rest of his life. I want to try.” “And if you’re wrong?” “Then I’m wrong.” Marcia, for all her gentle looks, was fiercely intelligent and stubborn. I knew that better than anyone. Her decision to leave this world was as absolute as her decision to choose Adrian had been. She used to teach me when we were young. “The greatest victory is not won on the battlefield,” she’d say, “but in the mind.” 3 I was only eight years old then. My half-sister, the daughter of my father’s mistress, had stolen a brocade robe—a final gift from my deceased mother. I went to my father. “A wildcat tore the robe,” he told me. “Father will buy you a new one.” Later, passing my half-sister’s courtyard, I heard her showing it off to the other girls, bragging about the magnificent fabric, the exquisite embroidery, the precious gems sewn into the collar. As they gasped in admiration, I walked into their circle, scissors in hand. I pinned her to the ground and shredded the robe right off her body, slicing it into ribbons. When my father arrived, my half-sister had forgotten how to cry. She only stared in terror until she saw him, then she started screaming for help. I stood over her, holding the blood-tipped scissors, and looked my father dead in the eye. “A wildcat tore my robe,” I said calmly. “Remember to buy me a new one, Father.” Perhaps my gaze was too serene, too unnerving. He forgot to scold me. I walked away through the path the silent, stunned crowd made for me. The next day, an identical robe was delivered to my chambers. I heard my half-sister’s mother had to empty her entire savings to pay for the physicians. I never saw her near my side of the estate again. Whispers about me spread through the capital. They said I was cruel, bloodthirsty, a monster who stalked the night. It was then that Marcia appeared in my life. The daughter of the Minister of Rites pushed me into a lake. I clawed my way back to the bank, grabbed her by the hair, and threw her in. She nearly drowned. The Minister went to the Emperor himself, demanding my father punish me severely. The Emperor asked for witnesses, but no one dared speak for me. Except for Marcia. “It was Lady Eleanor who accosted Lady Brenda first,” she said, her voice clear and steady. “If there is to be punishment, it should be delivered equally.” The Emperor, upon learning the truth, did not punish me. Instead, he ordered the Minister of Rites to better discipline his own child. Before, my only solution was to destroy anyone who wronged me. But Marcia taught me something new. Don’t ruin yourself just to punish someone else, she’d say. It’s not worth it. The goal is to make them suffer while ensuring they can never blame you. I warned her to stay away. “I’m poison,” I told her. Marcia just smiled. “Don’t worry. I brought the antidote.” After that, whenever I made a mess, Marcia was there to clean it up. The whispers stopped. No one called me a monster anymore. Instead, they saw a poor, motherless girl, bullied by her stepmother and half-sister. I once asked her why she helped me. She joked that with my status and name, I was destined to marry into the royal family, and she wanted to hitch her wagon to my star. I didn’t believe her. It wasn’t until my engagement to the Crown Prince, William, was announced that she told me the truth. She was from another world, she confessed, sent here to save me. Without her intervention, I was on a path to destroy the entire dynasty. But now, my life was on the right track. It was time for her to leave. To return to her world, she said, her physical body here had to die. She spoke of her home with such love. I couldn’t force her to stay. It was Adrian who convinced her. And at the time, I was happy for them. But I never imagined there would be a Serena. 4 Marcia’s death had indeed shaken Adrian, but his grief was a fleeting storm. Soon enough, he would forget his sins and resume his brilliant, glittering life. But my Marcia would be buried in the cold, lonely earth. I would not allow it. With Adrian forced to kneel in his own courtyard, my men brought out the wedding robes he and Marcia had worn. “These were Lady Marcia’s wedding garments.” I idly examined my fingernails. “Burn them.” “This is the furniture Lady Marcia purchased.” “Smash it.” “This is…” I made Adrian, Serena, and Noah watch as I systematically erased every trace of Marcia’s existence. Noah was still too young to understand, but Adrian’s eyes were bloodshot with fury. He growled like a caged animal. “Stop it! Stop! Marcia will come back! She’s just angry with me, that’s all… just like all the other times…” I clicked my tongue. Who was he trying to fool? My soldiers were efficient. Soon, the entire estate was stripped bare. Without Marcia’s dowry, the house was just an empty shell. This family had drunk her blood and then driven her to a cliff’s edge. I closed my eyes, a slow smile spreading across my lips. “Since you two are so deeply in love, I shall grant you a boon. I hereby decree that Serena is your lawful wife. From this day forward, Noah is her son.” Serena’s eyes lit up with disbelief and joy. As she was about to prostrate herself in gratitude, Adrian finally spoke. “I will have only one wife in this life—Marcia!” But Noah had already scrambled to Serena’s side, his voice ringing with delight. “Mother! I finally get to call you my mother! I never liked that old tigress anyway.” He then turned to his father. “Dad, didn’t you always say Auntie Serena was the kindest woman in the world?” Adrian’s face went white. He had no answer. I let out a soft laugh and left behind the royal decree of marriage. Weren’t they soulmates? Well, now they had their wish. No need to tarnish Marcia’s name any further. As I left, I tossed a single sheet of paper at Adrian’s feet. Two words were written on it, stark and clear: Decree of Severance. “Adrian,” I called back, “you are not worthy to share her grave.”

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The blizzard had turned the world into a ghost, and I was shooting the breeze with my colleague over the walkie-talkie to kill time. Through the thick, swirling snow, I saw a figure by a car, waving at me. A resident, I figured. I was about to head over, ready to score some points for the property management. Then, my colleague’s voice crackled urgently from the radio. “Sam, don’t go!” “The main roads are all closed. Who’d be trying to drive in this?” “That’s a bear wave!” 1 I’d heard the stories. Some bears, especially near populated areas, had learned to mimic human gestures. A friendly wave. A distress signal. In weather like this, a well-meaning person would think someone needed help. By the time they got close enough to see the truth, it was too late. You were food. The local news had just reported a bear escaping a nearby wildlife park. Our community wasn’t far. If Al hadn’t warned me, I can’t imagine what would’ve happened. A cold dread washed over me. I asked Al what to do. His grandfather had been a hunter up in the mountains, and the old man’s warning echoed through the radio: Never turn your back on a predator. I took his advice, turning off my radio to avoid any sudden noise and beginning a slow, deliberate retreat. But even though I tried to act casual, the hazy figure in the distance began to wave its arm faster, more frantically. The arc of its swing grew wider, a blur of motion no human arm could make. Was it dropping the act? Then, suddenly, it stopped. I blinked, and it was gone. Vanished into the whiteout. I scanned the area, my heart hammering against my ribs as a cold sweat beaded on my forehead. A terrifying thought bloomed in my mind. The frantic waving wasn’t just a threat; it was a distraction. It knew that I knew. It was trying to confuse me, to find a new angle of attack, one that would put it out of my line of sight. The situation had changed. I switched my radio back on, my voice trembling as I updated Al. I didn’t even finish my sentence. “Run, Sam!” his voice screamed, so loud it was distorted. “Run now!” Al’s panicked warning sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through me. I spun around and sprinted, a blind, desperate flight toward the security booth. The whole way, I didn’t feel the thunder of pursuit, and a sliver of relief cut through my panic. I was just at the door, fumbling for the handle. Whoosh! A blast of wind tore past my ear. A set of claws, massive and black, swiped through the space where my head had been a second before. It had somehow gotten behind me. If I hadn’t ducked to unlock the door at that exact moment, my skull would have been crushed. The force of its missed swing was so powerful that the creature stumbled, its heavy body unable to pivot quickly. That was all the time I needed. I lunged inside, slammed the heavy-duty door shut, and twisted the deadbolt. Only then, with the crisis momentarily averted, did my body give out. I collapsed against the wall, my limbs turning to jelly. Outside, I could hear ragged, guttural panting, punctuated by thunderous blows against the door. The force was incredible; the entire booth trembled with each impact. That’s when I realized the horrifying truth. It hadn’t just chased me. It had climbed the perimeter wall, taking a shortcut to head me off. Was this thing really a bear? The pounding continued for several minutes. Eventually, it must have realized the reinforced steel door wasn’t giving way. Thank God I’d complained about the winter cold and had management upgrade the old wooden shack to this insulated, fortified booth. Slowly, the sounds outside faded. Only then did I dare to switch on my radio again. “Al? You there?” “Jesus, Sam! Finally! I thought you were a goner!” I assured him I was safe and quickly recounted what had happened. There was a long silence on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. “Sam, listen to me,” Al said, his voice grim. “From now on, no matter who knocks, you do not open that door.” “What’s going on? What do you mean?” “That bear… I think it’s eaten someone. It’s… leveled up.” “Leveled up? What the hell does that mean?” Suddenly… Knock. Knock. Knock. A polite, human knock at the door. Over the radio, Al’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Don’t open it, Sam. For the love of God, don’t open it.” Then, his radio went silent. I hesitated, then crept toward the door. The security monitors were useless, just a screen of snowy static from the blizzard. The only way to see out was the peephole. I bent down, peered through the small glass lens, and my blood ran cold. Standing outside was a man, bleeding heavily. I could just make out that it was Mr. Henderson, the owner of the little convenience store next to the complex. He’d clearly been attacked. He was looking at me, his eyes pleading for help. My hand instinctively went to the deadbolt. But Al’s warning held me back. Mr. Henderson was weak, his body slumped forward, dripping blood onto the fresh snow. It was that slump, that small detail, that made my eyes widen in horror. Behind him, pressed against the side wall of the booth, I saw it. The bear. It craned its neck, peeking around the corner to watch me, then quickly retracted its head, disappearing from view. In that instant, I understood exactly what Al meant by “leveled up.” 2 Mr. Henderson was a good guy. He’d often slip me a free coffee or a sandwich during my long shifts. I crouched by the door, watching him through the peephole. My plan was simple: wait for the bear to move a little further away, then yank him inside. If I was fast enough, the bear wouldn’t have time to react. I watched for what felt like an eternity. The bear didn’t reappear. Had it left? My gut, now screaming with primal fear, told me to wait. To be sure. Still nothing. Even if it was still hiding around the corner, out of my direct line of sight, I might have a chance. The creature was massive, clumsy. It couldn’t be good at quick turns. After another minute of silent observation, I decided to risk it. Click. I took a deep breath and slowly, quietly, turned the deadbolt. My hand touched the doorknob. It was ice-cold. “Sam… please, hurry!” Mr. Henderson’s voice was a weak rasp from outside. Hope had renewed his urgency. Then, my heart skipped a beat. Through the peephole, I saw Mr. Henderson’s eyes flick instinctively to his right. Had the bear circled around? Was it waiting on the other side of the door? Thwack! I slammed the deadbolt back into place. At the exact same moment… BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! A furious, inhuman pounding rattled the entire booth. This wasn’t a man’s strength. “Aaargh!” Mr. Henderson screamed, a sound of pure terror, before it was cut off by a wet, gurgling sob. Then came the sounds. Tearing. Cracking. Wet, slurping noises. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see, but my mind painted the gruesome picture for me. A moment later, Al’s voice came over the radio. He’d seen the whole thing on a different set of cameras from the main office. He tried to comfort me, telling me that Henderson knew the bear was there. He was using himself as bait to get me to open the door. He was selfish first. It wasn’t my fault. I knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the deep, gnawing fear that was consuming me. “Al… it’s leveled up, just like you said. I saw it.” My voice was shaky. “It can suppress its instinct to feed, use a human as a tool, learn how we open doors. It even anticipated what I was thinking, tried to trick me.” Al sighed heavily. “That’s why I told you not to open the door, man.” “I have to call Brenda,” I said, my sense of duty kicking back in. “She needs to warn all the residents.” Al was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Sam, you need to worry about yourself right now. You start helping the others, and it finds out? It’s not going to let you go.” Before tonight, I would have laughed that off. A bear understanding network communication? Logical cause and effect? But after what I’d just witnessed, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe it really had become something more. Al’s advice made a terrifying kind of sense. If I just stayed quiet, maybe it would lose interest and find another target. But I couldn’t do it. I’m no hero, but I get paid to do a job, even if the pay is crap. I couldn’t live with myself knowing the familiar faces I saw every day were being hunted. I knew it was probably out there, listening, lurking in some blind spot. But I made the call. I dialed Brenda, the property manager, and told her everything. She needed to send out an emergency alert to all the HOA group chats. I was only in one, and a warning from a security guard wouldn’t carry enough weight. I also called the police and reported the situation. After I hung up, I felt a small measure of relief. But before I could even catch my breath, Al’s voice crackled over the radio, telling me to check the group chat. One look at my phone, and the knot of fear in my stomach tightened again. In the Building 13 residents’ chat, a user named Finn from apartment 1201 had posted a photo. It was a panoramic shot of the entire complex, blanketed in a pristine layer of white snow. There was no sign of a bear. No sign of Mr. Henderson’s body. Nothing. Finn’s message read: “A bear? Seriously? Are you guys so desperate for attention you’re making up ‘bear attack’ stories now?” 3 I zoomed in on the photo, frantically scanning every pixel. There was nothing. Not a single track, not a drop of blood. This was impossible. If there was no bear, what had I just experienced? Did the bear drag the body away and cover its tracks? Was the photo photoshopped? I was furious. I typed back: “We are not joking about this. This is a serious threat, and everyone needs to take it seriously. Someone has already been killed. I saw it with my own eyes.” A few of the residents who trusted us chimed in, offering support. The news about the escaped bear had been public knowledge, after all. Better safe than sorry. But Finn from 1201 quickly replied, posting a link to a brand-new news article. The escaped bear from the wildlife park had been captured an hour ago, miles away from our complex. The report stated the bear had not harmed anyone. Finn’s next message was scathing: “Stop with the theatrics. If you people at property management want to feel relevant, try lowering our HOA fees and fixing the plumbing instead of making up drama.” His words opened the floodgates. Residents who already had a grudge against management seized the opportunity, piling on, dredging up old complaints. Even the supportive residents started to waver, asking me to post a photo as proof. Doubt began to creep into my own mind. Was it possible? Was it all a hallucination? I shook my head. No. I wouldn’t believe it. I decided to go out and get the proof myself. The tracks had to be there. Even if the bear dragged the body away, there would be blood under the fresh layer of snow. I pulled out my phone, ready to take a picture. But first, I checked the peephole one last time. Nothing but white, empty snow. Was I wrong? Was it the little bit of whiskey I’d snuck into my coffee earlier? It was just a splash, not enough to make me see things… was it? “Sam, don’t be a fool! Don’t open that door! There’s something wrong with 1201!” Al’s voice crackled through the radio, sharp and urgent. My hand froze, inches from the deadbolt. Click. Rattle. Click. I pressed my eye back to the peephole and a wave of ice-cold terror washed over me. The bear was there. Standing upright. And its thick, clumsy paw was no longer a paw. It had transformed. It was using its knuckles, like a human hand, to twist the doorknob. The shock was so profound, my voice trembled when I spoke into the radio. “Al… what’s wrong with 1201?” 4 I thought I was prepared for anything, but Al’s next words hit me like a physical blow. “The bear… Finn in 1201. He raised it.” Raised it? No wonder. No wonder its behavior was so unnatural. The way it moved, the way it thought. This was no ordinary zoo animal, used to being fed by tourists. Al’s words also made me think about the apartment number: 1201. Our buildings were old, only twelve stories high. But the top-floor units, the penthouses, came with a large attic space. Big enough to house a bear? It was possible. The thud of its heavy footsteps would be the hardest thing to hide, but from the twelfth floor, the residents on the eleventh might not hear a thing, especially with enough soundproofing. But why? I could understand keeping a cat, a dog, maybe even a fox. But a massive, dangerous predator? It was insane. And illegal. I voiced my confusion to Al. He said he didn’t know why, but he did know one thing: he was standing outside Finn’s apartment in Building 13 right now. He’d smelled that familiar, musky scent of a bear and it had led him straight there. He sent me a picture on my phone. It was taken from roughly the same angle as Finn’s, but in this one, you could clearly see a large brown bear lying in the snow right next to my security booth, waiting. The body had been dragged into the peephole’s blind spot on the right, and the bloodstains were deliberately covered with a fresh pile of snow. “I’m going to talk to him,” Al’s voice came over the radio. “Sam, you stay put. Don’t you dare open that door.” Al’s reaction seemed too fast, almost as if he’d known about 1201 all along. But I didn’t have time to question it. A moment later, the radio was silent, but my phone started buzzing with notifications from the group chat. Al was posting. He’d caught the person spreading misinformation, he said. It was Finn from 1201.

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The client’s hand was sliding up my thigh when I saw Adrian Vance across the room, linking arms with his assistant to drink champagne. To keep the client happy, I’d drunk myself into a state of near-suffocation, my body screaming from alcohol poisoning. But Adrian didn’t spare me a single glance. He was too busy, his focus entirely on picking the cilantro out of his assistant’s bowl, coaxing her to eat like a good little girl. When the dinner finally ended, one word from his assistant—”Bored”—was all it took. He ushered me out of the car, ready to whisk her off to the next party. “The kid’s been working so hard lately. I’m taking her out to unwind.” “You wouldn’t get what young people are into these days. Don’t tag along.” “And listen, I’m going to be out with her all night, so that thing about the marriage license tomorrow… let’s just push it back. We’ll talk some other time.” Five years we’d been married. This was the 99th time Adrian had unilaterally canceled our appointment to make it legal. I just nodded. If he was always this busy, then maybe there was no point in ever signing those papers after all. 1 Through the half-open passenger window, Daisy stuck out her tongue in a mock apology. “So sorry, Kate! It’s all Addy’s fault, he just spoils me rotten! I’ll make sure he brings you back some late-night snacks, I promise!” Before I could even respond, Adrian was already there, smiling as he ruffled her hair. “You little glutton. You think everyone’s as obsessed with food as you are?” He shot a look in my direction. “Don’t worry about her. We don’t need another drama about food poisoning or some fake allergy. I don’t have time for those games.” So, he had seen me struggling. He just assumed it was another one of my acts, another pathetic attempt to win his attention. Normally, this would have been my cue to break down, to sob and argue and try to make him understand. But this time, I said nothing. I just offered a simple, quiet instruction. “Alright. You two have fun.” Adrian froze for a second, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before it was replaced by his usual smirk. “Good. It’s about time you stopped throwing pointless tantrums.” The car sped away. Just before they left, Adrian, ever so thoughtful, lowered Daisy’s window all the way so she wouldn’t feel stuffy. I get carsick easily, especially in his car. But he’d never once rolled down a window for me. “The wind will blow dust all over the interior. Can you stop being so dramatic all the time?” A cold clarity washed over me. I twisted the wedding band off my finger and, without a second thought, tossed it into the dark, churning river below. The next morning, I was at the orchestra hall early to hand over my duties. Ever since Adrian Vance, the piano prodigy, had made his debut, I had been his manager. “You’re resigning? Does Adrian know?” my boss asked, his eyes wide with shock. “He’ll find out when the new manager arrives,” I said, then walked out of his office and toward the performance theater. I ran right into Adrian. He was wearing a crisp new shirt I didn’t recognize, the scent of a different shower gel clinging to him. He flexed his wrists, his gaze landing on me. “I drank too much last night, so I just got a room to crash in. That’s why I didn’t come home.” It was the first time in ten years Adrian had ever bothered to offer me an explanation. I simply nodded, saying nothing. “Did you have an early meeting or something?” he asked then. I looked up at him, a ghost of a memory surfacing. After every one of these dinners, I was always up by five or six in the morning, preparing a spread of hangover remedies and a soothing breakfast for him. It had been this way since he was eighteen. It was no wonder he was confused not to find it waiting for him this morning. I just nodded again. “Something like that.” I was about to walk away, but Adrian, whose brow had been furrowed since he saw me, grabbed my wrist, his face darkening. “Alright, Kate, that’s enough.” His voice was tight with annoyance. “I just postponed signing the papers, I didn’t cancel it for good. This little act of yours is getting old.” But I wasn’t acting. And I truly had no intention of ever signing those papers. This was as good a time as any to make things clear. I opened my mouth to speak, but a girlish, pouting voice cut through the air. “Addy! It’s all your fault!” “The ones you bought me this morning… the absorbency is all wrong!” “These are for, like, daily use! I can’t use these! You’re such a clueless man, Addy!” 2 Daisy was stomping her foot a few yards away, her cheeks puffed out in a theatrical display of frustration. The moment Adrian saw her, he shoved past me, rushing to her side and sweeping her up into his arms in a dramatic, bridal-style carry. His voice was laced with urgent concern. “It’s that time of the month and you’re running around barefoot on a cold floor? Are you trying to get sick?” A memory, sharp and bitter, flashed in my mind. Earlier in the month, my own cramps had been so severe I was curled into a ball on the bed. I’d begged Adrian to get me some pads and painkillers. He’d frowned, disgusted. “You want me, a grown man, to go buy that stuff?” “Every woman goes through this. Just tough it out. God, you’re so much trouble.” By the time I snapped back to the present, Adrian was already carrying Daisy away. I looked away, swallowing the familiar ache in my chest, and pulled out my phone. I found the number for the headhunter who had been trying to recruit me for an overseas position for months. Just after I booked the flight, a notification popped up on my phone. Daisy had tagged me in a new post. It was a Boomerang of a large, masculine hand slowly, gently rubbing her stomach. The audio was just her, sighing contentedly. “Addy, your hand is so warm…” The caption read: My clueless boy feels so bad about my period cramps, he said he’d help chase all the pain away! It feels so good to be cherished~ Her intentions were as subtle as a sledgehammer. I liked the post. Then, I navigated to my own profile and removed the picture of our wedding day that had been my cover photo for years. … Later that day, a major orchestra was visiting for a joint rehearsal. Since I was still in the process of handing over my duties, I was tasked with managing the event. I was escorting the visiting musicians, leading them to the lounge to settle in. As we entered, the first thing everyone saw was Adrian, sitting at a table, patiently feeding a spoonful of food to Daisy. “Wow,” one of the violinists whispered. “I’d heard the great Adrian Vance married his manager, Kate, years ago. I had no idea they were still so in love!” “I know, right? And for a pianist, his hands are his life. To think he’d use them to pick vegetables for his wife…” Yes, a pianist’s hands. The most precious things in his world. For ten years, I had managed every aspect of his life, terrified he might suffer the slightest scratch. And now, here he was, using those priceless hands to dote on another woman. The whispers of admiration finally reached the pair. When Daisy saw me at the head of the group, her face crumpled into a mask of wronged innocence. “Kate, look at Addy!” she whined. “He’s forcing me to eat all this liver! I’m going to get so fat because of him!” Adrian didn’t even look at me. He just gently wiped a smudge from the corner of Daisy’s mouth. “Be good. Finish this, and then you have to drink your ginger tea.” The chatter around me died instantly. I met their awkward, pitying glances, forced a professional smile, and guided them to their seats. Once everyone was settled, I pulled out my phone to continue my online visa application. I didn’t hear him approach, but suddenly Adrian was standing behind me. He saw my screen, and his expression turned cold. “A visa? Who are you getting that for?” Before I could formulate an answer, he seized my hand, his voice thick with a surprise that bordered on panic. “Kate, where’s your ring!?” He stared at my bare finger. “Don’t you dare tell me you just forgot it at home!” I knew why he was reacting this way. For the eight years since our wedding, that ring had never left my finger. His own ring, meanwhile, had never once seen the light of day. Connecting the dots, a flicker of genuine fear crossed Adrian’s face. He squeezed my hand tighter, his eyes boring into mine. “Answer me!” I was about to tell him the truth, but a piercing shriek cut through the tension. “Aah! It hurts! Addy, it hurts so much…” Everyone’s head snapped toward the sound. Daisy was on the floor beside the grand piano, her hand outstretched, a bleeding gash across her palm.

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My father, upon hearing that his first love had passed away, was overcome with grief. He immediately donated his entire million-dollar fortune and became a monk. He left my mother to fend for herself and her two children on the streets, where we nearly starved to death. But my mother, through sheer will, started by picking through trash cans and then selling barbecue from a street cart. She not only fed my brother and me but eventually opened a restaurant and bought a house. On the very day we moved into our new home, my father, who had been gone for ten years, returned. He had cancer and wanted us to pay for his treatment. 1 I was at work when my aunt suddenly called. “Minnie, I have some great news! Your father is back! Aren’t you happy?” Hearing her cheerful voice, I froze. That man… ten years ago, for the sake of his first love, he abandoned his wife and children to join a monastery. Why was he suddenly back now? My throat tightened. “Where is he?” “He’s almost at your house! You must have missed him so much after all these years.” Her voice was bright and chipper. “Don’t worry, he’s back for good this time. Your family can finally be whole again. You should hurry home, Minnie!” I hung up, a knot of panic forming in my stomach. Did my mother know? She was the kindest, most soft-hearted person I knew. It had taken her years to recover after my father left. Our lives were finally on track, and I couldn’t bear to see her hurt again. I immediately called her. On the other end of the line, I could hear her haggling at the market, her voice full of life and laughter. “Minnie, honey, Mom’s busy stocking up right now. What’s up?” Hearing her voice, I felt a wave of relief. It seemed she didn’t know he was back yet. There was still time. I had to get that man out of there before she came home. “Mom,” I said, trying to sound casual, “I’m craving crawfish for dinner. After you’re done with your shopping, could you pick some up? The big ones.” “Oh, crawfish? They’re not easy to find this time of year. But don’t worry, I’ll see what I can find after I’m done here.” “Great. No rush. Take your time.” I hung up, took a half-day off from work, and rushed home in a cab. 2 Standing in front of our townhouse were a man and a woman. I had no idea how they’d gotten into the gated community. The middle-aged man was dressed in simple, worn clothes and a wool cap. He stared at the house, his expression impatient. “Didn’t you call her? Why isn’t she back yet? This is ridiculous.” He had aged. His once-handsome face was now sallow and sagging, but he still carried himself with the same self-important air, as if the world owed him its attention. Looking at his pathetic figure, I felt a twinge of bitter irony. Years ago, he’d prided himself on being a literature major from a prestigious university and constantly looked down on my mother, calling her an uncultured housewife. He shamelessly carried a photo of his first love with him, writing poems and painting portraits of her. When he heard that woman had died, he spent the entire night on the balcony, chain-smoking. I was young then, but I remember him clutching her photo, sobbing, “Rose, my love, I’m coming to join you!” The next day, he sold our house, donated his entire million-dollar fortune, and had his head shaved. While the media praised their “heaven-shaking, earth-moving love,” my mother and I were thrown out onto the street. No one cared if we lived or died. I truly didn’t know how he had the gall to come back. “Minnie! You’re back!” My aunt saw me and waved excitedly. “Come over here! What’s wrong with this child? Are you just stunned with happiness to see your father?” My father followed her gaze and looked at me. His face darkened. “What took you so long? Do you know how long we’ve been waiting?” I ignored him and asked coldly, “What are you doing here?” My lack of enthusiasm clearly annoyed him. “What do you mean, ‘what are we doing here’? Who are ‘we’? Have you forgotten how to address your elders? You have no manners at all. What has that idiot Sarah been teaching you?” Hearing him insult my mother sent a surge of fury through me. Did he still think he was the emperor of this household? Who was going to put up with that crap? “Who’s the idiot calling someone an idiot?” “I’m calling your mother an id— wait, you little brat, how dare you talk back to your own father!” He finally realized what I’d said. Shocked and enraged, he raised his hand to strike me, but my aunt quickly intervened. “No, no! Don’t fight! You’ve just been reunited after so long!” She held him back, giving him a pointed look, then turned to me with a strained smile. “Minnie, don’t be like that. I know you’ve missed your father all these years and you’re feeling hurt. But he’s missed you, too. He’s back now to make things right…” “Make things right?” I said sharply. “When he donated all our money and left us homeless, did he ever think about what would happen to Mom, to me, to my brother? And now he wants to ‘make things right’? Who needs it!” My father stared at me, aghast. “What do you mean, I ‘left you homeless’? I earned every penny of that money. Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own property?” He grew more indignant. “Besides, I was grieving. As my daughter, why couldn’t you have a little empathy for me? Is money more important to you than feelings?” I had thought, hoped, that he might feel a shred of guilt for what he did. But he was so utterly self-righteous. I almost laughed out loud. I was done wasting my breath on him. “I’m not going to argue with you. Please leave. You’re not welcome here.” Sensing the situation was escalating, my aunt quickly tried to mediate. “Minnie, your father didn’t mean it like that. Why don’t we go inside and talk? We can all calm down. Arguing out here will just make us a laughingstock.” “There is no way I’m letting you inside today. If you have any shame, leave now. Don’t make me call security.” “How dare you speak to me like that! I’m your father!” He tried to hit me again, but my aunt held him back, shooting him meaningful glances. He finally calmed down and lowered his hand, a cold sneer on his face. “Fine. Fine. I see you’ve become a heartless, ungrateful wolf in my absence. I won’t waste my time with you. We’ll see if your mother dares to keep me out when she gets home.” I clenched my fists. His confidence wasn’t entirely baseless. Years ago, it was my mother who had pursued him, chasing after him for years before he finally, reluctantly, agreed to be with her. Throughout their marriage, she had been submissive, catering to his every whim. She forgave his affairs and never once raised her voice to him. If she saw him now, she might just soften and forgive him all over again. I couldn’t let that happen. “I said you’re not welcome here! Get out! Security! Security! There are intruders! Help!” I shrieked, grabbing a nearby broom and swinging it wildly, like I was shooing away stray dogs. If they wouldn’t leave, I would drive them away. My father’s face was scratched and bruised. He retreated, yelling, “Minnie, are you insane? How dare you treat your own father like this! You’ll be struck by lightning for this!” “I’m not your Minnie! My last name is Thorne, same as my mother’s!” I dipped the broom into a pile of dog crap on the curb and jabbed it at their faces. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” In the midst of the chaos, I heard my mother’s voice. “Minnie?” I froze. There she was, at the end of the street, holding a bag of groceries, staring at us in shock. How did she get back so early? 3 I tried to block my father from her view, but it was too late. Her eyes had already fallen on him. He stood there, stunned for a moment. The woman before him was wearing an elegant silk dress, her makeup subtle, her posture graceful. She was a world away from the frumpy housewife he remembered. He looked awkward, wiping the filth from his face and forcing a stiff smile. “Sarah, I’m back. And this time, I’m not leaving.” I looked at my mother anxiously, terrified she would be hurt all over again by this man. But she just smiled faintly. “Oh, it’s you, Arthur.” Her smile confused me. I rushed to her side. “Mom, let’s call security and have them thrown out!” But she gently chided me. “Minnie! What are you saying? That’s so rude. He is, after all, your father.” Hearing my mother defend him, my father visibly relaxed. He had been worried she would resent him, that he would have to work to win her over. But it seemed his fears were unfounded. This woman was probably just thrilled to have him back. A smug expression crept onto his face, and he reverted to his old, domineering self. He pointed at me, his tone disapproving. “Look at the daughter you raised. She’s a real handful.” My mother glanced at me and shook her head with a smile. “That’s just Minnie’s way. Don’t mind her.” Not wanting to be seen arguing in public, my father forced a laugh. “Why would I mind her?” He started to reach for my mother’s hand. “Sarah, these past few years…” But she sidestepped him smoothly and smiled at me. “Minnie, open the door. Let your father in.” “Mom! Why should we let him in?” “Open the door. Are you going to disobey me now?” I bit my lip and, reluctantly, took out my keys and opened the door. My father watched my mother’s retreating back. He was slightly annoyed by her avoidance, but then he figured it was normal for her to be a little standoffish after all this time. He decided not to make a big deal out of it. His earlier anger vanished, and without waiting for an invitation, he strode into the house.

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All of Justin Antoon’s girlfriends gave birth to children with developmental problems. Only his ex-wife had given him a perfectly healthy daughter, and he doted on her. As for me, the intellectually disabled son I bore for him was thrown to his death by that very daughter. Then, she plunged a knife into my chest, her words laced with venom. “So what if you gave him a son? He was a retard. He was never going to be good enough for the Antoon family.” Reborn, I awakened the “Perfect Pregnancy System.” The system not only allows me to conceive with ease but also to choose the gender and intelligence of my children at will. This time, I will give Justin Antoon a litter of brilliant sons. 1 When I returned, my son was already dead. Justin’s daughter, Olivia, stood before me, her expression triumphant. “Serves him right. A retard like that deserved to die.” I clutched my son’s small, lifeless body, my heart a vortex of pure hatred. SLAP. I struck her across the face with all my strength. In my last life, it was this very girl who had murdered me. This time, I would settle the score. She struggled against my grip, then burst into tears. “Daddy, help me! This crazy woman is hitting me!” Justin appeared in an instant. He glanced at my dead son in my arms, his face showing no sign of grief. His only concern was for Olivia. “Are you all right, Livvy?” Justin was my husband now. He was usually kind to me. I was the only woman who had ever given him a son, but because the boy had developmental issues, he could not inherit the Antoon family fortune. “What’s going on? Who’s bullying my granddaughter?” My mother-in-law arrived, storming over, ready to strike me as I sat on the floor. I caught her wrist in a tight grip. “She killed my son. Don’t I have the right to hit her?” In my past life, I was a doormat, letting Olivia walk all over me without a word of protest. But not anymore. I would not be silent. “He’s dead, so what? He was a retard anyway,” my mother-in-law spat, her face a mask of cold indifference. “Olivia was just helping the Antoon family clean up its useless baggage.” I looked at Justin. He said nothing. Emboldened, Olivia pouted. “Grandma’s right. Useless things should be thrown away. I’m the future heir of the Antoon family. I have the right to do these things.” She turned to Justin. “Daddy, since this woman can’t give you a smart child, why don’t you just get rid of her?” Her words sent a jolt of fear through me. I couldn’t leave. The Antoons were the wealthiest family in the state. If I was cast out, I wouldn’t survive. “Justin,” I said, my voice shaking but firm, “I can give you a smart son.” At this, he turned to look at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. Even my mother-in-law’s attention was captured. Justin had been with many women, fathering many daughters. Apart from Olivia, all of them had developmental problems and had been… dealt with. His greatest desire was for a healthy son to inherit the Antoon legacy. It was a family tradition for the heir to be male, but his generation had hit a roadblock. And now, I had awakened the Perfect Pregnancy System. The system’s voice had echoed in my mind moments after my rebirth: [Host, if you use the Perfect Pregnancy System to bear Justin Antoon four children, your mission will be complete, and you will be rewarded with infinite wealth.] [Furthermore, you can use this system for revenge. You can have as many children as you desire, and you can freely alter their gender and intelligence.] I had agreed without a second thought. I would avenge my son, and I would complete my mission. 2 “Daddy, don’t believe her! How could she possibly give you a smart son? That’s not something you can just decide to do,” Olivia whined. Justin snapped back to reality. “You already gave birth to one disabled son. That means any others will be the same.” He sighed. “But you’ve been the most obedient of all my wives, and the only one to give me a son. I can give you two million dollars. Just leave.” He turned to walk away. I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around his leg, looking up at him with desperate determination. “Just trust me one more time. I can do it. If I fail, you can throw me out then. It won’t be too late.” “You lying bitch!” Olivia tried to push me away. But Justin stopped her. “You really can?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “Of course,” I promised. “I guarantee it.” My words caught my mother-in-law’s attention. A flicker of hope ignited in her eyes. “If you can really do it, then I will finally accept you as my daughter-in-law.” Justin was tempted. “Fine. We’ll try.” I let out a silent sigh of relief and looked down at my son’s still form. Don’t worry, my sweet boy. Mommy will get revenge for you. Olivia started to throw a tantrum. “Dad, don’t believe her! She’s lying!” “Livvy,” I said, my voice small and pathetic, “I know you’re afraid a brother will challenge your position as the heir. Don’t worry, I won’t let him compete with you.” A flicker of pity crossed Justin’s face. He pulled me into his arms and looked at Olivia with a cold expression. “That’s enough! Whether she can do it or not is not for you to say. We’ll know soon enough. If it is a boy, and he is healthy, then he will be the heir to the Antoon family.” Olivia’s face went white. She wanted to argue, but she held her tongue. I smiled inwardly. Olivia, you want to be the heir so badly? I will never let you have it. 3 My promise to bear Justin a son changed his attitude towards me completely. He even arranged a lavish funeral for my deceased son. At the cemetery, Olivia glared at me, her eyes burning with hatred. I ignored her, clinging to Justin’s arm. Rest now, my son, I thought. Mommy will avenge you. “Darling,” I whispered to Justin, “let’s start trying for another baby today.” He laughed. “All right. I’ll trust you this one time. If you can really give me a brilliant son, I will not treat you poorly.” “Okay.” After leaving the cemetery, I ran into Olivia in the garden at home. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she sneered. “I’m telling you, if you don’t produce a boy this time, my father will throw you out for sure! And you won’t, because my father’s genes are defective.” “Defective genes? Then how are you perfectly fine?” I took a step closer, staring into her eyes. A flash of panic crossed her face. “I… I misspoke,” she stammered. In that instant, I understood everything. No wonder all the children Justin fathered had problems. His genes were flawed. But Olivia was normal. Which meant she wasn’t his biological daughter. I said nothing more and walked away. That night, Justin and I were together. I asked him about the genetic issue, and he told me he had been undergoing treatment for years. He believed it was no longer a problem. It didn’t matter. Even if there was a problem, the system would help me. Afterward, the system’s voice chimed in my head: [Host, a fertilized egg has implanted. You may now choose its gender and intelligence level.] I didn’t hesitate. “Male. High intelligence.” I had already lost one son. I would ensure that my next child had a bright future. It would be as if he were living for his lost brother. 4 A month later, I was confirmed pregnant. Justin was so overjoyed he spun me around in his arms. “This is wonderful, Violet! I love you so much! There’s hope for the Antoon legacy!” His face was alight with joy. “I hope it’s a boy.” “Dad, aren’t you afraid she’ll just have another retard?” Olivia grumbled. She turned to my mother-in-law. “Grandma, you know Dad’s genes are bad. That can’t be changed. So Violet’s baby will be a retard, too!” “But if Justin’s genes are defective, how are you normal?” I interjected innocently. I couldn’t believe Olivia was so foolish as to expose herself again. Justin and his mother’s expressions soured. They were starting to see the inconsistency. Just as Justin was about to speak, his ex-wife, Katherine, arrived. “The doctors said that even with Justin’s condition, it’s not a guarantee that every child will have problems,” she said quickly. “Olivia was just the lucky exception.” She shot a warning glance at Olivia. Olivia caught on and nodded eagerly. “That’s right! And I look so much like my dad, how could I not be his daughter? Violet, I think you’re just trying to cause trouble!” “I’m not,” I whispered, shrinking into Justin’s arms. “Justin, you believe me, don’t you? I wasn’t.” I knew Justin all too well. He had a weakness for damsels in distress. As expected, he pulled me into a tight embrace and shot a cold look at Katherine and Olivia. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear another word about my genes. I believe the baby in Violet’s womb will be perfectly healthy.” Though he said that, when we were back in our room, he seemed worried. I wrapped my arms around his neck and cooed, “Don’t worry, Justin. This baby will be fine. I have a doctor friend with advanced equipment. She’s already checked. The baby is perfectly healthy.” “Really?” A wide smile spread across his face. “Of course.” He immediately pulled me in for a long kiss, his eyes wet with emotional tears. He cared so much about having a child. And I would use that to control him. Everything the Antoon family owned would one day belong to my children.

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