After two years with Caleb King, I discovered the man I’d been intimate with was actually his twin brother. During the film festival awards ceremony, countless scandalous photos of me suddenly leaked. Overnight, my fans turned on me, endorsements were canceled, and my phone wouldn’t stop ringing with people asking, “What’s your rate for a night?” And those photos? Only my fiancé, Caleb, had them. I ran, distraught, to confront him, but outside a private booth, I overheard him, my rival Amber, and a few of his buddies laughing. “Do you think she’ll be mad when she finds out the truth?” My fiancé, Caleb, scoffed. “Mad? She had it coming for trying to steal Amber’s endorsement. It’s just a little lesson.” “That’s nothing,” one of his friends chimed in. “If she knew Caleb had his brother sleep with her for two years, that’s when she’d really lose it!” “Hey, Jax, how’s it feel to have been secretly sleeping with Caleb’s girlfriend for two years?” I dug my nails into my palms. Caleb’s twin brother, Jax King, said casually: “How do you think it feels? The innocent goddess on screen is actually pretty wild in bed, willing to try anything… I’m back in the country for good this time, just so I can hook up with her whenever I want.” Then, Caleb, his arm around Amber, spoke expressionlessly, “It’s just for a few more days. Get your fill now. Once Amber nails down the lead role, I’ll break it off completely with Anya and marry Amber.” Whistles and cheers erupted throughout the booth. “Damn, Caleb! You’re finally going to marry Amber!” “To help Amber get that lead role, you went after Anya, took those photos, and ruined her career. You’re a pro, man!” Every word was like a knife, twisting in my heart. But my mind uncontrollably flashed back to how Caleb first pursued me. Back then, I had just blown up after a campus drama, labeled as “America’s Sweetheart.” But because I refused to compromise with a sleazy producer, I was harassed. It was Caleb who flipped the producer’s table, getting me out of that sticky situation. Later, he learned I was afraid of the dark, so he’d time my wrap-up every day, driving halfway across the city just to pick me up. What truly melted my heart was when my grandma got sick. I couldn’t get back home in time due to work, but he hired the best doctors. I thought I’d found someone who truly understood and cared for me, so when he asked me out, I said yes without hesitation. Though after we started dating, Caleb did act a bit strange. During the day, he was always cold and dismissive, but at night, he was passionate, and he loved taking those intimate photos. But I loved him too much. I was willing to give him everything. I’d even suppress my shyness, posing in ways I thought would please him. How could I have known that my devotion would become the sharpest blade, piercing my own heart? I looked at the people laughing and chatting in the booth, terrified I’d completely lose my mind if I stayed another second. I abruptly turned and stumbled back home.

My agent, Brenda, called. “Anya, the company has decided to put all your projects on hold and send you overseas for a ‘break’.” “Your flight’s in three days. Do you want to go?” If I left, I wouldn’t have to face this disgusting harassment, wouldn’t have to remember Caleb’s betrayal. I felt all the strength drain from my body. Numbly, I nodded. “I’ll go.” But I knew I would never come back. “Where are you going?” I spun around, facing a face almost identical to Caleb’s. My body tensed instinctively. Did he know I was leaving? Just as I was about to answer, he held up a paper bag, imitating Caleb exactly, just like he had countless times before. “I brought you your favorite mango cake.” I looked at the mango cake in his hand, and my stomach churned. I used to think he forgot I was allergic to mangoes because he was too busy with work. Now I knew he simply didn’t care. I didn’t take the cake he offered. I just stepped back. “No, thanks. I’m allergic to mangoes.” The smile on Jax’s face stiffened, but he didn’t pull his hand back. Instead, he took a step forward. “What’s wrong? Is it because of those photos?” “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. No one will say anything bad about you.” “So what if your career is over? The King family can certainly afford to take care of you, can’t we?” A bitter taste spread through my heart. These two brothers were master actors, each one better than the last. Seeing my silence, Jax pulled me into a hug. “If you cry, my heart will break.” As he spoke, his hand started reaching under my clothes. I used to enjoy Jax’s tenderness, immersing myself in the sweetness he brought. But now, I just felt sick. I pushed him away. “Not right now.” Jax was caught off guard by the push. He paused, then smiled gently. “Okay, then I’ll just hold you while you sleep.” I couldn’t break free, so I just let him hold me.

I woke up the next day to an empty bed. I used to wonder why Caleb always got up so early, never staying in bed a little longer with me. Now I knew. It was because the one sharing my bed at night was Jax, while the real Caleb disdained to touch me. I pushed open my bedroom door, and Amber sat at the dining table, smirking at me. “Anya, my stomach’s a bit sensitive, so Caleb invited me over for breakfast. You don’t mind, do you?” Caleb expressionlessly placed a perfectly made omelet in her bowl. “She doesn’t.” After serving her, Caleb carefully picked the onions out of her scrambled eggs. He pushed the plate back to Amber, his voice a tenderness I’d never heard before: “It’s just been warmed up, the temperature is perfect. Your stomach is sensitive, so eat slowly.” Amber pouted, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Caleb, I suddenly feel like eating your soft-boiled eggs. Would you make some for me?” Caleb instantly put down his fork. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.” I stood rooted to the spot, watching the scene unfold before me, my heart clutched by an invisible hand, aching so much I could barely breathe. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of caring for someone, nor did he have a bad memory. It was just that his tenderness and attentiveness had never belonged to me. I had asked him to make me a fried egg before. He had just frowned and said it was “too much trouble,” then threw me a piece of cold toast, grumbling impatiently, “Be grateful for what you get; don’t be so picky.” Back then, I’d comforted myself, thinking he was just too tired. But now, watching him seriously adjust the heat and carefully flip the egg for Amber, I finally understood: it wasn’t that he was lazy or tired, it was just that I wasn’t worth his effort. But it didn’t matter. I would be leaving soon. Whether he loved me or not, I no longer cared. Amber watched Caleb busy in the kitchen, then turned to me, her smugness practically overflowing. “Anya, why do you think Caleb cares so much for me?” “Unlike some people, even after two years by his side, he wouldn’t even crack a smile for them.” She paused, then leaned closer. “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you, that endorsement you lost? It’s mine now.” “And that lead role you were supposed to get? The director said it suits me better.” “Isn’t this just fate? Even if you held the spot, you’d have to give it up to me eventually.” My nails practically dug into my palms, but I didn’t get angry as she expected. I just looked at her calmly. Amber probably didn’t expect me to be so serene. The smile on her face stiffened, then she just scoffed. “Since you won’t give up, I’ll make you face reality!” The next second, she suddenly screamed and slashed a fruit knife across her own arm! “Anya! How could you do this to me!” She cried as she stumbled backward, right into Caleb’s arms.

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My mom always dragged me to fancy restaurants, forcing me to eat foods I was severely allergic to until I was frothing at the mouth. Then, she’d whip out her phone, filming my convulsing, gasping, suffocating misery, and demand a hefty payout from the restaurant. Scared of a lawsuit or bad press, the owners always caved, settling quickly. Every single time, she got away with it. Until she met one cold-hearted owner who just wouldn’t budge. My mom had my EpiPen in her purse, but she just *watched* me, her own daughter, die right there in that restaurant. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before I died. 1 “Mia, sweetie, how about Mom takes you to get your favorite tiramisu?” My mom’s voice, light as a feather, drifted into my ear. My body stiffened. I opened my eyes to see my hand gripping a paintbrush, dragging a harsh black line across the paper. In my past life, my mom’s sweetness terrified me. She never had a kind word for me, not unless she needed me to be “sick.” That was the only time her voice would soften like this. A chocolate bar, my favorite brand, was placed on my drawing paper. Just like last time. I knew this chocolate wasn’t a treat; it was a death knell. “Mom, didn’t you say last time was… the very last time?” She gave an impatient ‘tsk,’ the sweetness in her voice vanishing instantly. “Who knew your Grandma needed such expensive surgery? If I don’t get some money, how will she pay for her medication next month?” “Come on, sweetie, just help Mom out one more time. I promise, this is absolutely, positively the last time!” She’d said those words countless times before. One winter, she wanted to scam a newly opened five-star hotel. She poured an entire packet of crushed nuts into my corn chowder. I choked on the spot, my face turning blue, my body convulsing. The hotel manager was terrified and paid a hundred thousand dollars on the spot. That night, I spent in the intensive care unit. Through the glass, I watched her, happily chattering on her new phone outside. I begged her, *please* stop. I was really dying. She screamed at me: “You ungrateful brat! I worked my fingers to the bone raising you, and now you won’t even earn some money for your Grandma’s medical bills?” “If your deadbeat dad had paid child support on time, would I even *be* doing this?” Because of the hives and track marks from all the injections, I never dared wear skirts or short-sleeved shirts in the summer. I used to be the class president, with excellent grades, but my teacher removed me because I missed school so often. My classmates isolated me, calling me a liar, saying I always faked illness for sympathy. I wanted to tell them the truth so badly, but I couldn’t. Mom said Grandma needed the money to save her life. If I spoke up, Grandma would die. From a very young age, I knew my mom had a hard time raising me alone. So, when she first used my allergies to “make money,” I didn’t fight back. I wanted to be useful to her. I wanted her to have an easier life. That way, she wouldn’t abandon me. But again and again, the restaurants she took me to became fancier, the payouts she demanded grew higher. And my “illnesses” became more frequent. The once lively, laughing girl I was became silent and terrified of going out. Last month, at a Japanese restaurant, she secretly sprinkled peanut dust into my Udon noodles. I went into anaphylactic shock, my throat swelling shut, making it impossible to breathe. I writhed on the floor in agony, feeling like some grotesque spectacle. But she just calmly filmed me, negotiating with the restaurant owner. Only after the thirty thousand dollar settlement hit her PayPal account did she finally give me the life-saving EpiPen. I came back from the brink of death, lying in the hospital for three days. On that lonely, frigid night, I lay alone in my hospital bed, cold, hungry, and in pain, my stomach felt like a nest of angry, squirming worms. That’s when I vaguely thought, *maybe it’d be better if I just died*. And then, I did. God knows why I was brought back again. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish. 2. My mom saw me lost in thought, figuring I didn’t want to go. A beautifully wrapped music box was placed in front of me. She clasped her hands together, a pleading smile on her face: “Mia, just help Mom one more time. I promise, once we get enough for Grandma’s surgery, we’ll never do this again!” She was usually so cheap with me; a five-dollar chocolate bar was her limit. Today, she was giving me such an expensive gift. She clearly knew this particular scam was no ordinary one. Sure enough, the next second, she spoke. “Mia, this restaurant, it’s new, an all-you-can-eat seafood place. Super fancy, like two hundred dollars per person.” “But the owner… he seems pretty tough. So this time, we need to make it *really* convincing.” “No, I’m not going.” I trembled, backing away repeatedly. Of course I knew how ruthless that owner was. That’s where I died. As I lay on the ground, frothing at the mouth, that owner’s eyes were like daggers, ready to flay someone alive. My mom filmed my horrific state with her phone, screaming at the top of her lungs. The owner, hands on his hips, ignored her completely. It was only when I was floating above the scene that I saw the owner’s face change. He probably hadn’t expected my mom would truly let me die. Someone among the diners had already called 91

The ambulance arrived, and so did the police. “Officer, look, these are the mother and daughter from that scam video online!” “Yeah, it’s them! I saw the video from the Japanese restaurant last time, too.” “Right? They even went viral on local Twitter, and they still have the nerve to pull this stunt?” “That poor kid, stuck with a mom like that. What awful luck.” Turns out, someone had recorded my mom and me during our last scam at the Japanese restaurant and posted it online. My mom just didn’t know it and had walked right into a trap. Reborn, how could I possibly jump back into that death trap? I fell to my knees, clutching my mom’s leg, pleading desperately: “Mom, please, let’s not go, okay? If we go this time, I’ll really die…” I cried, feeling hopeless, wishing she’d show a shred of pity. But my mom impatiently kicked me away. My head slammed into the corner of the table, instantly forming a huge bump. She loomed over me, then *slapped* across my face, swelling it even more. Her eyes held no tenderness, only disgust and contempt. “Worthless thing! What are you crying for?! I raised you all these years, and now you won’t even do this one thing I ask!” Clutching my swollen face, I sobbed, slurring my words: “Mom, we’ve done this so many times. Maybe… maybe people have already posted videos of us online.” *Slap!* Another blow landed. “You’re talking nonsense! Are you cursing me?” It was the sound of her own deep-seated guilt. My heart grew colder, inch by inch. Seeing my vacant eyes and lack of response, she finally ripped off her disguise, losing patience. “Last chance, are you going or not?” Her voice was icy.

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Five years ago, a wealthy heiress hired me to test her fiancé, Liam Gallagher. She wanted to see if he could resist temptation. For a million dollars, I agreed. That night became my everlasting humiliation. Five years later, I started a new job. The nameplate on my direct superior’s office door glaringly read: “Liam Gallagher.” He looked up, his gaze falling on me, utterly calm. “The new intern, Sarah Miller? From today, you report to me.” My knuckles turned white as I clutched my resume. Five years. I thought I’d never see him again in this lifetime. But here he was, sitting across from me, my direct superior, holding the power over my three-month internship. He had changed, yet somehow hadn’t. His eyes still held that cool detachment I remembered, but the youthful awkwardness was gone. His features were sharper, and the aura around him had deepened, becoming more commanding. He looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. Which was probably for the best. I swallowed the storm raging inside me, respectfully lowering my head. “Yes, Director Gallagher.” He didn’t say another word, waving me out. The moment I turned, his voice, devoid of warmth, reached me from behind. “Double-check the data in this market report. I want it on my desk by the end of the day.” My heart sank as I took the report, thick as a brick. One afternoon to verify such a report? It felt like an impossible task. A colleague passing by patted my shoulder sympathetically. “First day, and Director Gallagher’s already giving the new intern a hard time? He’s the company’s notorious tyrant. Good luck.” I could only manage a smile that felt more like a grimace. Yes, the tyrant. I knew him better than any of them.

To finish the task Liam had assigned, I even skipped dinner. I watched as everyone else gradually left the office, until it was just me and the figure in the director’s office. At nine that night, I finally finished checking all the data, found three subtle errors, and reorganized them into a new report. I knocked on his office door. “Director Gallagher, the report is verified.” He grunted, his eyes still glued to the computer screen. “Just leave it.” I stood rooted to the spot, not moving. He finally looked up from his work, his eyes behind the lenses holding a flicker of impatience. “Something else?” “There were three data errors in the report, I’ve already…” “I know.” He cut me off, his voice flat. “I left them there intentionally.” My mind went blank. “You…” “Wanted to see if you had basic professional diligence.” He stood up, walked over to me, took the report from my hand, and casually flipped through it. “It’s decent work, just a little slow.” He was a head taller than me, his shadow completely enveloping me. I caught the clean, woody scent of him, exactly the same as that night five years ago. My stomach twisted. “If that’s all, you can go home.” He dismissed me. I clenched my fists, turned on my heel, and left without a word. As I reached the door, his voice came again from behind. “Sarah.” I paused. “Tomorrow morning, bring me a black Americano, no sugar.” It was a command, not a request. My back stiffened, rigid as a board. Five years ago, Victoria’s file on him clearly stated: Liam had low blood sugar and never drank black coffee.

The next day, I placed a steaming hot Americano on Liam’s desk right on time. He didn’t even glance up. “Who told you to buy it this hot?” I lowered my eyes. “My apologies, I’ll get another one immediately.” “No need.” He picked up the coffee and, right in front of me, drank it, sip by sip. His brow didn’t even furrow. I watched him, a strange taste in my mouth. Had he forgotten, or was he reminding me in this way that he remembered *everything*? Just then, a sweet, chipper female voice floated in from the doorway. “Liam, I’ve brought you breakfast!” Victoria Chase, dressed in a brand-new Chanel suit, sashayed in, carrying a designer lunch box. She saw me, her smile faltered for a second, then snapped back into place, perfect. “Oh, isn’t that Sarah Miller?” She clapped a hand over her mouth dramatically, as if just recognizing me. “I thought I was mistaken. What are *you* doing here?” I forced a smile. “Ms. Chase, long time no see. I’m interning here.” “Interning?” She scanned me from head to toe, her gaze like an X-ray, stripping me bare. “Liam, since when do you hire *these* types of interns?” Her disdain and contempt were palpable. Liam set his coffee cup down, his voice unreadable. “I hired her.” Victoria’s expression became a masterpiece of shock. She turned to Liam, her voice taking on a wheedling tone. “How can you let her work next to you? You forgot how she, back then…” “Victoria.” Liam cut her off, his voice hardening. “This is the office.” Victoria’s face went pale, and she clamped her mouth shut, seething. She shot me a venomous glare, a look that felt like a poisoned dagger. Then, she walked to Liam’s side, intimately linked her arm through his, and opened the lunch box. “Alright, alright, let’s not talk about that. I *personally* made this cake for you, try it!” She put extra emphasis on “personally made,” like a hostess reveling in her victory. Liam didn’t even spare it a glance. “I don’t have an appetite in the morning.” He picked up a file and handed it to me. “Follow up on this project. I want to see a preliminary proposal by 3 PM.” I took the file and nodded. “Understood, Director Gallagher.” From start to finish, I didn’t look at Victoria again. But I knew her gaze, fixed on my back, felt like it was burning holes through me.

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Everyone thought I was dead. Dead on the very day my boyfriend married my stepsister behind my back. For five long years, the red roses adorning my grave never stopped appearing, not even for a single day. Five years later, I stood before my own tombstone, and there he was again – Caleb Vance, holding a bouquet of red roses, ostensibly to mourn me. After a brief moment of shock and awkwardness, I still managed to greet him. “Long time no see.” He forced a smile, tucking the roses behind his back. “Long time no see, Audrey. I thought… you were dead.” I was back in the country to help relocate my mom’s memorial plot when I discovered a new grave beside hers, one that belonged to me. It read: “Beloved Wife, Audrey Hayes.” A bouquet of roses, a necklace, and my favorite chocolate cake sat before it. The cemetery staff followed my gaze, a flicker of surprise in their eyes. “Ms. Sterling,” one said, “don’t you think the photo on that headstone looks a lot like you? If I didn’t know you just returned from overseas, I’d swear we had a ghost!” I smiled. “It does, but it’s not me.” My name is Skylar Sterling. I’m a top contributor for “MT” magazine in France, and the sole heiress of the Sterling Group. I just celebrated my third wedding anniversary with my husband, and our child is two years old. I had it all. A truly blessed life. The person on that tombstone was Audrey Hayes. Five years ago, because my father’s illegitimate daughter, my stepsister Maya, was diagnosed with depression, my father and brother secretly arranged a wedding for her. The groom? The man I’d been in love with for eight years, the boy I’d grown up with. Audrey Hayes was a complete and utter failure. She and I, we were no longer the same person. I pulled my gaze away, turning to the staff to discuss my mom’s burial plot. Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed behind me. “Audrey!” I ignored it, continuing my conversation with the staff. A strong hand suddenly clamped onto my arm. Under the surprised gaze of the cemetery workers, I stumbled, turning to meet Caleb Vance’s eyes. “Audrey, you… you’re not dead?” A cold smile played on my lips, but my eyes were drawn to the red roses in his hand. Five years. Why were Caleb’s eyes as red as those roses?

I excused the staff and stood before my tombstone. Caleb followed, tossing the red roses to the ground. His voice, laced with the fury of someone deceived, cut through the air. “Audrey Hayes, you’re quite the actress, aren’t you? Living in guilt for five years must have been amusing for you, huh? Not even a single message.” I answered nonchalantly. “Didn’t you tell me yourself? To never bother you again.” Five years ago, when I received the news that he was marrying Maya, I rushed to the wedding venue in a panic. On the way, I got into a car accident. I was pinned by the airbag in the driver’s seat, nearly dying. I called him, begging him to come and save me. But he was busy putting the veil on Maya. My phone rang again and again. He finally answered on the very last ring. “Maya has lived a tough life as an illegitimate child. Can’t you even tolerate her having one wedding? Forget about a car accident, even if you were dead, don’t bother me. I *will* marry Maya!” Caleb and I met when we were seven, fell in love at eighteen, and got engaged at twenty-three. At twenty-six, he wished me dead just so he could marry my father’s illegitimate daughter. In that moment, I swore I’d never bother him again. Now, hearing my words, he gave a strained smile. “It was just a joke, you took it too seriously.” He straightened up, looking me up and down. “How did you know I’d be at the cemetery today? And you’re wearing my favorite green coat…” His eyes, devoid of any genuine warmth, narrowed at me. “You’re not actually thinking that after playing dead for five years, if you just act dumb and play hard to get, I’ll fall back in love with you, are you? I’m telling you, Maya has been amazing to me these past few years. Unless you genuinely apologize and beg me, I’ll never—” “You’re overthinking it.” I cut him off, unable to stand it any longer. “I came back to help my mom relocate her burial plot. Once it’s done, I’m leaving immediately.” “And…” I paused, then turned and walked towards the cemetery gate. “Since you’re married, you should probably stop wearing our engagement ring.” “It’s all faded.”

Caleb froze, then quickly strode after me. “Tomorrow is your dad’s fiftieth birthday. He really misses you. Make sure you come early.” I paused for a second, then quickened my pace. I hadn’t had a father for five years. Five years ago, at my mom’s funeral, Robert Hayes brought his illegitimate daughter home and brazenly acknowledged her identity in front of all our relatives. “I just made a small mistake, one every man makes.” “Maya was raised outside for over twenty years. I only brought her home after your mom died. I’ve done right by your mom.” So, as compensation, he allowed Maya to take my room, my jewelry. He let her play the “innocent little sister” while she meddled in my relationship with Caleb. Even when I was in a car crash and rushed to the operating room, when the nurses called him to sign consent forms, he said: “Today is my younger daughter’s wedding day, and a hospital is such a place with bad vibes, I can’t go. I know Audrey; she’s always been dramatic. Broken bones and massive bleeding? She’s making it up. You’re a hospital for saving lives, don’t play along with her. My daughter needs me; the wedding is about to start. Don’t call me again.” Lying on the operating table, I could clearly feel the sympathetic, pitying glances of the doctors and nurses around me. Perhaps they’d never seen anyone so utterly abandoned by their entire family before. My thoughts snapped back to the present. I pulled down my sleeve to cover the scars on my arm and hailed a taxi back to my hotel. That evening, I lay in my hotel bed, video calling my husband and son. My husband, Jaxson, who grew up abroad, is incredibly sweet and clingy, just like our child. He can’t go a day without me. “Wife, my dad says he misses home too. He’s packing his bags now and will be flying back with us tomorrow morning.” My non-biological brother, Brandon Sterling, poked his head into the video frame. “That’s right, Sis. Dad and I discussed it. Moving Aunt Carol’s plot is a big deal, we have to be there. Plus, Dad and I can inspect our domestic businesses. You’re alone in the country, so remember to eat well and stay warm. Your knee isn’t doing great.” The car accident five years ago left permanent scars on my knee. Brandon, who was my senior at university at the time, was the first to recognize my helplessness. During those five years in France, he took me into his home, treated me as his sister, and helped me create a new identity. My godfather, David Sterling, spoiled me like his own daughter. They were my real family. I smiled and nodded, chatting a little longer before reluctantly hanging up. The feeling of being cared for by family, it truly was wonderful.

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Liam’s voice was rough, his eyes on my rain-soaked clothes. “Damn, why are you always so… compliant?” I handed the bag to Liam, who was leaning against the doorframe. “The 0.01mm ones you wanted.” As he took it, he smirked, his fingers deliberately brushing mine. “She’s not here yet. Why don’t we use them first?” I froze, and he chuckled. “Just kidding. I’ve set you up with someone for next Wednesday. You’ve been with me for years; I don’t want to see you mistreated. You’ll go, right?” Liam’s tone was conversational, but there was an undertone of careless pressure in his eyes. He didn’t actually want to avoid “mistreating” me. He was clearly just worried about his first love, Chloe, finding out about us when she returned from abroad, so he wanted to get rid of me before then. My curled fingertips tightened sharply. I forced myself to look up, feigning composure. “Just send me the address, please.” He noticed the polite distance in my voice. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but only for a second. Rainwater dripped from my hair onto my collarbone, making me shiver from the cold. I stammered, “It’s getting late. I should go.” “Wait.” Liam walked into the living room and returned with a Burberry shawl. He wrapped me tightly in it, leaving only my slightly damp eyes visible. In my fluster, I looked up to thank him, only to meet his suddenly darkened gaze. His thumb was still resting on the shawl’s collar, not yet withdrawn. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he abruptly said, “Stay tonight?” I paused, then blurted out, “But isn’t someone else coming…” He cut me off before I could finish, pressing his knuckles against my head, his voice tinged with impatience. “You actually believed that?” “Do you really think I’m some kind of promiscuous jerk?” “All these years, who else has been in my life besides you?” Liam held me in bed, and as my consciousness blurred, he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “This is our last time.” “Chloe is coming back.” “I don’t want her to suspect anything about us, so you’ll go to that social event, won’t you?” He finally spoke the truth. In a surge of anger, I bit down hard on his shoulder.

Liam’s stamina was simply astounding. The whole ‘men past their prime at 25’ thing? Total myth for him. It wasn’t until the morning mist peeking through the curtain gaps had turned pale that he finally ended our session and headed to the bathroom. As the sound of the shower started, I picked up my clothes from the floor and went to the guest bedroom. This had been our unspoken rule for five years. Liam was a light sleeper and didn’t like anyone beside him. So, no matter how exhausted or drained he left me, I always dragged myself to the guest room afterward, clinging to the last shred of my strength. The next day, I woke up well past nine. As I rushed downstairs after getting ready, I saw Liam returning from his workout. He wore a white tank top, his shoulder and back muscles sculpted and powerful. “Maria left breakfast for you.” I quickly waved my hand. “I’m going to be late for work, and I still need to catch the subway.” Liam raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t I just drive you?” I was putting on my shoes by the entryway and instinctively blurted out, “No!” “My promotion results are coming out today. If my colleagues see me getting out of the CEO’s car, I’d never live it down, even if I had ten mouths.” Liam’s motion of twisting the cap off his water bottle paused. The air suddenly went silent for a moment. A beat later, he let out a soft laugh. “Fine, suit yourself.” Before I left, Liam called out to me and handed me a business card. “Your date for next week’s setup.” A buzzing sound filled my ears, dragging me back to reality. One night of intimacy had almost made me forget. Last night, the reason I’d agreed to bring him the condoms was to finally tell him I wanted to end our five-year, undefined relationship. Afraid he’d think I was still clinging on, I reached out and took the business card. The sharp edges of the plastic card dug painfully into the skin between my thumb and forefinger. My nose felt a little blocked, and I softly mumbled, “Okay.” “I’ll go.” Over the years, I always stayed at Liam’s house on weekends. Initially, I’d lugged in big bags filled with changes of clothes and countless bottles of skincare products. He found it bothersome, me moving things back and forth, so he eventually had someone build a vanity table specifically for my things. This day, as I was leaving, I took all those things with me. And the pink slippers I usually wore by the entryway, and the nightgown in the closet. As I did all of this, Liam quietly leaned against the doorframe, watching me, his eyes holding an emotion I couldn’t decipher. When I had finished packing and said goodbye, I told him, “From now on, we’re strictly professional.” Seeing through my concerns, Liam scoffed softly. “Don’t worry, I won’t make things difficult for you.”

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My husband claimed to suffer from face blindness. It was his excuse for mistaking twenty different women for his wife. The first time, he held his intern’s face in the cubicle, locked in a scorching kiss. The second time, he and his assistant shared our marital bed, sleeping intimately side by side. The third time, he had his arms wrapped around the campus queen from the dance department, rolling around scandalously on the emerald green lawn… Each time, I showed him our marriage license. Each time, he collapsed at my feet, sobbing. “Anya, please don’t leave me. I truly thought they were you.” So I tried to make it easier for him. I wore the same style of clothes every day. I even let him draw a special heart on my cheek – a secret code, just for us. Everything changed when his ex-lover Blair Ashton returned to the country. She was the one woman who had always held a dark, dangerous sway over him. I watched him weave through the crowded airport, move with purpose, and pull her into a tight embrace, calling out her name with undeniable intimacy. “Blair, welcome home.” It hit me then. He didn’t have face blindness at all. He only went blind when he looked at me. In that moment, I slipped off my wedding ring, my heart finally, utterly dead.

My husband Julian Vance brought Blair back to our house. The moment he saw me, his face registered utter innocence. “Who are you? Why are you in my house?” “I’m warning you, don’t even think about messing with my wife and me. Get out, now.” At that point, I had no interest in even showing him our marriage certificate. I stared intently into his eyes, searching for a flicker of shame, a hint of guilt. All I found was cold disdain, outright scorn. In that instant, a hollow laugh bubbled up. How incredibly stupid and pathetic I must have been. He must have reveled in it, treating me like a fool for three years, probably laughing behind my back. Serves you right, you naive, love-struck idiot. You deserved to be fooled. I felt an irresistible urge to see if Julian had any conscience left. My voice was chilling as I unveiled our brutal past. “Julian, your face blindness is acting up again. You’ve brought the daughter of your enemy into our home.” “Six years ago, she teamed up with Liam Thompson, the heir of the Thompson family – the Vance Group’s bitter rivals. They framed the Vance family for smuggling, leading to the collapse of Vance Group and the tragic death of Mr. Vance, your father.” “Have you forgotten? When you confronted her, she had her bodyguards pin you down in the pouring rain, beating you mercilessly. They broke your leg and three ribs. That traumatic event was what triggered your face blindness.” That bloody truth had only happened six years ago. I refused to believe he could have forgotten. A flicker of emotion seemed to cross Julian’s face. Before he could speak, Blair cut in. “Honey, you just gave me all those hickeys on my neck. You even Snapped me, saying you’d only love me for this lifetime. Have you forgotten?” With that, she pulled open her collar, exposing a swath of red marks on her neck, staring at me with a triumphant, challenging smirk. Blair then looped her arm through Julian’s. “Honey, I love you. I swore to you, no matter what you do, I’ll be by your side, without an ounce of complaint or regret.” Julian’s face softened with affection. He pulled her into a tight embrace. “Good. This time, I’ll make sure you can never leave me.” Then, he shouted at me, his voice laced with fury. “Who the hell are you, you fraud? I might be face-blind, but I’m not stupid. I still remember my wife’s scent.” “Get out, now.” The bodyguards started to move towards me, ready to physically remove me. Blair smiled at me, a chilling, sinister smile. “Honey, we can’t just kick her out. What if she’s a trap set by an enemy to gather dirt on you?” “I think it’s best to lock her up and interrogate her thoroughly. Leave no loose ends.” Julian nodded. He turned to the bodyguards, his voice cold. “Take her to the basement. Use the tools. Don’t let her out until she confesses who’s behind this.”

The bodyguards hesitated, looking from me to Julian, then back to me. Finally, one couldn’t help but speak. “Mr. Vance, she’s truly Mrs. Vance, not a fraud.” Julian erupted in a furious rage. He kicked the bodyguard, sending him sprawling. “Idiot! You think I don’t recognize my own wife? Tell me, have you all been bought off by her?” At his words, the bodyguards dared not argue further. They dragged me towards the basement. With a loud thud, I was thrown onto the cold, concrete floor. The bodyguards looked at me with an air of regret. “Mrs. Vance, Mr. Vance is having one of his episodes again. We have no choice but to offend you.” Then, one of them pulled out a whip from the basement wall and brought it down hard. A searing pain ripped through me. “Tell us, who sent you, you spy?” the bodyguards yelled, their voices intentionally loud. I noticed the hesitant movements of their whips, realizing they were holding back. As a bodyguard slowly raised the whip for a second strike, Blair appeared at the top of the stairs, arm-in-arm with Julian. “Are you all just standing around? Didn’t you eat anything?” At Blair’s displeased voice, Julian’s face also darkened with anger. “Beat her harder! Make her confess who’s behind this!” The bodyguards had no choice but to crack their whips, delivering several swift blows. My skin tore, blood spattering on the grimy concrete.

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In my past life, I was forced to watch my husband Derek Thorne and his entire family of seven swallow poison in a suicide pact. His company’s collapse, brought on by his gross mismanagement, was the final trigger. The shock was too much. I collapsed, losing consciousness. When I woke again, Derek and the six others had already been cremated. Before the grief could fully settle, loan sharks were already breaking down my door, demanding payment. That’s when it hit me: I was the sole survivor, and the debt was mine to bear. Ten years later, I made the final payment. I returned to my empty house only to find the Thorne family, all seven of them, alive and well inside. Derek tossed a single dollar bill at my feet. “Thank you,” he said, the words dripping with mock gratitude for clearing the mountain of debt they’d left behind. The sight of their smug, deceitful faces broke me. I choked, blood flooding my mouth, and collapsed. My world went black. My eyes flew open, and I was back. Back to the day Derek’s company fell.

Derek’s face, drenched in tears, appeared before me. Every word he spoke was drenched in tears, his voice cracking with emotion. “Celeste, I know I’ve failed you. It’s my fault. My nepotism, my terrible business decisions… they led to the company’s bankruptcy, and now we owe a fortune.” His hand trembled as he pulled out a small blue glass bottle, a crudely drawn skull and crossbones on its label, as if to ensure no one missed it was poison. “Celeste, I’m so sorry! We… we’ve truly reached a dead end. We can only atone for our sins by taking our own lives!” He looked at me deeply, a prolonged gaze. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he raised the bottle and gulped down its contents. “Celeste, please forgive me.” Derek coughed up blood, thrashing on the floor in agony, his eyes still fixed on mine… That agonizingly familiar scene jolted me awake. I had been reborn. Reborn to the day the nightmare began, ten years ago… In my past life, my husband had stubbornly insisted on his own way, filling the company with his cronies, and ultimately running it into the ground. I’d pleaded with him countless times, but our arguments only festered until our relationship turned completely toxic, leaving us as enemies. Out of sheer frustration, we stopped all contact. A year later, to my horror, Derek showed up at my door with his father, Mr. Thorne, his mother, Mrs. Thorne, his elder brother, Victor, his second brother, Paul… the entire family of seven. Derek was sobbing uncontrollably, filled with what seemed like deep regret. He drank the poison right in front of me, begging for my forgiveness even in his dying moments. Before I could even react, the whole family of seven simultaneously swallowed poison and died. It was an utterly gruesome scene. Watching my once-beloved husband die such a painful death right before my eyes, seeing all seven of them collapse, I was overcome with sorrow. I not only forgave Derek for all his mistakes but was consumed by unbearable grief and profound regret. Overwhelmed, I eventually fainted. When I finally woke up, I discovered something shocking. My elder sister-in-law, Scarlett, had already cremated all seven of them with shocking speed. Before I could even begin to process the immense grief, I was slapped with another terrifying reality – loan shark enforcers were practically breaking down the door. They stood there, menacing and formidable, blocking the entrance. It was then that I learned Derek owed a staggering one hundred million dollars. And I was the only surviving debtor in the entire family. Even though I fought it every step of the way, legally, I was on the hook for everything. It was either pay up or rot in jail. With no other choice, I sold off my villa and my company to pay down the debt. Even my parents’ company and house were liquidated. After that, I worked day and night, juggling three jobs, scrimping and saving every penny. It took me a full ten years to pay off the very last dollar. Just as my trembling hands paid off the very last penny, believing it was finally over… I suddenly realized that the very mansion I’d sold off was now home to a ‘happy’ family. My husband, under a new name, was embracing a new woman, with two adorable children doting at their feet. Mr. and Mrs. Thorne were beaming, looking years younger than me, clearly living a life of leisure and comfort. My heart instantly felt like it was being ripped apart, bleeding raw. I remembered my parents, who had died prematurely three years earlier, overworked and exhausted from helping me pay off the debts. I remembered myself – white-haired and haggard in my youth, worn out from a decade of ceaseless labor. Derek, with his gorgeous, fawning wife clinging to him, drove off in a luxury car. He rolled down the window, his gaze sweeping over me as if I were a pathetic fool. He tossed a single dollar bill at my feet. “This dollar is my thanks for all your hard work, paying off our family’s debts. Hahahahaha…” Seeing the despicable, triumphant smirk on their faces, I felt a thousand daggers pierce my soul. “Pfft!” I spewed a mouthful of blood and collapsed into eternal darkness…

SMACK! A stinging slap across my face. Before I could even regain my balance, a shrill torrent of abuse assaulted my ears. “You wretched hag! After everything you and my brother went through as husband and wife, how could you just stand there and watch him die?!” My younger sister-in-law had slapped me. I snapped my eyes open. Her malicious face filled my vision. “You cold-hearted witch!” Tiffany’s voice was shrill and piercing. I looked up to see my elder sister-in-law, Scarlett, and Tiffany charging at me like two enraged she-wolves. Scarlett, heavily pregnant, her eyes spitting fire, pointed a finger at me and snarled, “It’s all because of you, you cold-blooded woman! You refused to help us with the debt, forcing our whole family to die! You’re an absolute demon!” Tiffany Thorne, decked out in flashy makeup, also glared at me furiously, her scarlet-painted fingernail practically touching my nose. “You, you’re so heartless! Even if you and my brother fought, after all you’ve been through as husband and wife, were you really going to watch them all die before you were satisfied?” Their accusations rained down on me like a storm, giving me no time to react. I narrowed my eyes, standing silent amidst their barrage of insults, feigning a terrified stupor. Inside, though, a cold, bitter laugh echoed. It was just like this in my previous life. Everything happened so suddenly, the bodies strewn across the floor had shocked me into a daze, leaving me utterly helpless. Just as I rushed forward to embrace Derek, my two ‘dear’ sisters-in-law suddenly burst onto the scene. These two had always resented me, constantly stirring up trouble, always finding fault where there was none. They had played a significant role in poisoning my relationship with Derek, pushing us to the point of not even speaking. Now, without a second thought, they were dumping all the blame and vitriol squarely on me. It was Derek’s own stubborn refusal to listen to advice, his own terrible business decisions, that led to the bankruptcy. But to anyone unaware, it would seem as if I had driven them to their deaths. What’s more, Derek and I had been separated for over a year. According to our prior agreement, our divorce would have been finalized very soon. In this second life, the truth finally dawned on me. Derek had planned all of this. He deliberately timed their fake deaths just before our divorce was finalized, so they could escape their debts. It was all to ensure I’d legally become the sole inheritor of their mountain of debt. The entire family had conspired, orchestrating this elaborate charade: first, the sudden, tearful ‘suicides’ to shock me into paralysis, then the two sisters-in-law launched their relentless assault, leaving me utterly speechless and unable to defend myself. Looking back, it was a meticulously planned trap, each step designed to leave me no room to breathe, no time to think, only to react.

Their insults and baseless accusations continued. Scarlett and Tiffany stood on either side of me, completely blocking my view. “Celeste Sterling, if it weren’t for how much my brother ‘loved’ you, I’d call the police right now and have you arrested!” “Celeste Sterling, you owe me my brother! You owe me my parents! May you rot in hell!” … At that moment, my parents arrived. Seeing the bodies sprawled out, the blood everywhere. My usually timid mother instantly collapsed onto the floor. My father staggered, his face ashen. My heart ached for them. My parents must have been terrified out of their minds. The Thornes’ scheme was truly wicked. Any decent person witnessing seven bodies sprawled out like this would be utterly traumatized. In my past life, my family was utterly disoriented, manipulated precisely as the Thornes intended. They had no idea they were slowly falling into a meticulously crafted trap. Thinking this, a subtle, almost imperceptible curve touched my lips. Even fate must have been disgusted by Derek’s depraved actions, granting me this second chance at life. If that’s the case, I absolutely cannot squander this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I will meticulously erase every single stain of humiliation they inflicted upon me. My gaze pierced through Scarlett’s hair, seeing Derek lying on the floor in a comical, twisted posture, the red dye splattered from his mouth coated the floor, a gruesome, sickening sight.

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On my wedding night, my adopted brother Brandon, the man I’d secretly loved for ten years, plunged a knife into my father’s heart. “You pathetic bitch! If you hadn’t insisted on marrying me, your dad wouldn’t have forced Brittany into that arranged marriage!” “How could you be so cruel?!” I watched my father’s lifeless body, crumbling completely. That day, I renounced the world, seeking refuge in solitude, leaving everything behind. Years later, I was kidnapped, bombs strapped all around me. As everyone else stood frozen in fear, it was Brandon who threw himself in front of me, shielding me with his own body. Just before he died, he grit his teeth, his voice a ragged whisper. “I’m sorry for how I treated you in this life.” “But in our next life, don’t stand between me and Brittany again!” Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the day my father intended to marry me off to Brandon. This time, I chose to grant them their wish. “Dad, let me be the one for the arranged marriage.”

My father stared at me, completely stunned. “What did you say?” “Celeste, are you sure? You’ve been trailing after Brandon since you were kids, always declaring you would marry him one day.” The bloody scene from my past life flashed through my mind. I forced a bitter smile. “Not anymore. I’m tired of it.” Seeing my insistence, my father sighed. “Alright, if your mind is made up. The marriage alliance would be with Julian Hayes of the Hayes Group. The family for the alliance is the Hayes Group. Julian Hayes. His family and reputation are beyond reproach. I had initially considered Brittany as the match…” He paused, then continued, “Since you’re willing, I’ll arrange a meeting for you two.” “Okay.” As long as it wasn’t Brandon, marrying anyone else made no difference to me. I turned to leave, and just as I pulled open the study door, I walked straight into Brandon and Brittany. The sight of his face made my stomach churn. My father’s body, sprawled in a pool of blood from my past life, instantly overwhelmed my senses. Brandon, seeing me, his brow twisted into a tight, angry knot. “Celeste, have you been bothering father again? Is this about your ridiculous obsession with marrying me? His voice was laced with ice, every word dripping with impatience. “Let me tell you, forget about it. I will only ever marry Brittany!” I froze. This never happened in my past life, did it? Had he been reborn too? The thought flashed through my mind, but I couldn’t be bothered to dig deeper. I gave him a cold glance. “You’re overthinking. I have no interest in you. I just told Dad I want the arranged marriage.” The words had barely left my lips when Brandon visibly stiffened, a flicker of shock and panic crossing his face. But the next second, it morphed into raw mockery. “Celeste, stop playing your manipulative games!” “Do you honestly think I’ll fall for your lies again?” Before he could finish, Brittany’s eyes reddened. With a soft thump, she knelt directly in front of me. “Celeste, I know you hate me… but Brandon and I truly love each other. Please, I beg you, let us be together!” Brandon’s face was filled with anguish. He pulled Brittany into his arms, glaring at me. “Why are you begging her?! Someone like her isn’t worthy!” He clutched Brittany close, gritting his teeth. “I’m going to talk to Dad right now! Even if I get kicked out of the Hayes family, I’ll still be with you!” With that, he turned and stormed into the study. My heart felt utterly dead. Always like this. In my past life, he stabbed my father in the heart, all for this woman. How far would he go for her? How could his heart be so cold? As soon as Brandon entered the study, Brittany’s tears vanished. She scrambled to her feet, a triumphant, cold smirk on her face. “Celeste, how does it feel to be publicly humiliated?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “If you hadn’t constantly hounded Brandon in our previous life, Brandon and I wouldn’t have ended up in such a mess, would we?” So, it was true. They both remembered. I tugged at the corner of my mouth, a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Don’t worry. In this life, I wouldn’t be caught dead with him.” She scoffed as if I’d told the funniest joke. “Who are you trying to fool? Celeste, I know exactly how cheap your love is!” “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have no chance at all. I want Brandon to hate you to his very bones!” My brow twitched. I was about to speak, but she suddenly pulled a necklace from her neckline and dangled it in front of me. In an instant, my blood ran cold. That was the only keepsake my mother had left me! “How do you have that?!” My voice trembled as I glared at her. “Give it back to me!” Brittany’s smile widened, more triumphant than ever. She walked to the window, raised her hand, and with a flick of her wrist! The necklace, holding all my cherished memories of my mother, disappeared into the lake outside the window! The last thread of sanity in my mind snapped. I lunged at her like a madwoman, grabbing her by the collar. I slapped her across the face with all my strength, my voice hoarse. “Brittany, who gave you the guts?!” I had barely finished shouting when a voice, chilling to the bone, spoke from behind me. “Celeste!” “I knew it! The moment I’m not here, you start bullying Brittany!”

The next second, a figure burst through the study door. Brandon, his eyes bloodshot, grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like my bones would shatter. “Celeste! What has Brittany ever done to you? Why do you torment her like this?” “How can your heart be so vicious?!” Before I could even open my mouth, a flash of white, then a sharp, stinging slap across my face. SMACK! The crisp sound echoed through the hallway. My head snapped to the side, my cheek instantly throbbing with a fiery pain, and the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. A flicker of triumph crossed Brittany’s eyes, quickly replaced by the look of a frightened little lamb. She leaned bonelessly into Brandon’s arms, her voice trembling. “Brandon… it’s all my fault, please don’t blame Sister, I was wrong…” I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug deep into my palms, using every ounce of strength just to keep from collapsing. I raised my head, forcing each word through gritted teeth. “She threw my mother’s necklace into the lake! Don’t you know how important that necklace is to me? What’s wrong with me hitting her once?” At my words, Brandon’s grip on my hand noticeably loosened for a moment. He looked down at Brittany, who was crying dramatically, tears streaming down her face. Brittany’s reaction was incredibly quick. Her eyes instantly turned crimson, and large tears began to fall. “Brandon, I truly didn’t mean to… I just wanted to look at it, and in my haste… I just couldn’t hold on…” “It’s all my fault, I’ll go to the lake and get it right away!” As she spoke, her body went limp, and she made to break free from Brandon’s embrace, as if to jump into the lake from the window. Any hesitation in Brandon’s eyes was instantly replaced by anguish. “Stop it!” He scooped Brittany back into his arms, holding her tightly. When he looked at me again, there was only complete impatience left. “Brittany already said it was an accident! Do you really have to be so relentless? She’s about to jump in, what more do you want?” He paused, his tone filled with disdain and irritation. “Besides, it’s just a necklace! Your mom is dead, why keep holding onto things from the dead? It’s morbid!” “Things from the dead.” Those words were like a poisoned dagger, plunging deep into my heart. My mind went blank. When he was brought into the Hayes family, he was scrawny and ran a high fever at night. My mother held him, staying up night after night, gently wiping his body with warm water over and over, feeding him spoonfuls of porridge. And now, he could say such a thing! Brandon seemed to realize he’d spoken out of turn. His face stiffened, his tone softening slightly, but he still stubbornly retorted. “Why didn’t you put the necklace away properly? Losing it is your own fault. This has nothing to do with Brittany, you’re not allowed to snap at her again!” I couldn’t control myself anymore. The hatred, the injustice from both past and present lives, coalesced into a towering inferno of rage, burning away my last shred of reason. I swiftly raised my hand, and with all my might, I slapped him hard across the face. SMACK! This slap was louder, harsher than the one he’d given me. Brandon staggered, a clear five-finger mark rapidly appearing on his face. He stared at me in utter disbelief, completely stunned. The entire hallway was deathly silent. I slowly lowered my trembling hand, my chest heaving violently, but my voice was cold as ice. “Brandon, in this life, you and I are completely over. Done for good!”

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After giving birth, my husband sent me to his ex-girlfriend’s postpartum recovery center. For an entire month, no one visited me. The caregivers there abused me, both physically and verbally. Meanwhile, my husband and his ex-girlfriend hosted a lavish welcome party for my son. On TV, in a grand banquet hall, they held my baby, looking like a happy family. My husband turned to his ex and said: “Thank you,honey” I choked back my tears, pulled out my phone, and called my brother, who had just returned to the country. **Chapter 1** I was at home, enjoying a bowl of hot chicken soup, when Ryan and Scarlett burst through the door with a group of people. Ryan’s face was contorted with fury. He immediately snapped at me, “Aubrey, where have you been running off to? Do you have any idea how frantic Scarlett was when she found out you’d disappeared from the recovery center? And you’re here, casually sipping chicken soup!” Scarlett, her eyes welling up with tears, said softly, “Ryan, don’t blame Aubrey. Maybe she just missed home and left without a word.” At her words, Ryan’s anger flared even more. “Scarlett was kind enough to let you stay at her recovery center, arranged for the best caregivers to look after you, and made sure you had the most nutritious meals. How can you be so ungrateful? Aubrey, you’re becoming absolutely impossible! Apologize to Scarlett right now!” I let out a cold, bitter laugh. This was the man I once loved. For the sake of his idealized ex, he had sent me to an unlicensed, shady postpartum recovery center. The “best nutritious meals” he spoke of were cold, leftover food. A thick layer of congealed fat sat on top of the “recovery chicken soup,” and at the bottom, I found a gnawed chicken bone! The “best caregivers” he mentioned gave me cold water, took my phone, restricted my freedom, and subjected me to constant verbal and physical abuse. The more I replayed those memories, the stronger the hatred burned within me. But now wasn’t the time to deal with them. I finished my chicken soup and gently set down the bowl. “Where is my baby?” Ryan impatiently paced around, then launched into another tirade. “Who are you putting that sour face on for? “Didn’t I explain it all? Scarlett lost her baby, and she just wanted to hold ours for a while. She’s been through so much; what’s the big deal if you let her have the baby? We can always have another one later!” I scoffed. He said it so easily, talking about the baby I’d nearly died giving birth to as if he could just give him away. I remembered when Ryan was first pursuing me, he swore he would always be good to me. My parents initially didn’t approve of him and strongly objected to our relationship. But he knelt before them, swearing he would marry no one but me. That’s when my parents reluctantly agreed. But I never expected that the moment his former “white moonlight,” Scarlett, returned to town, his attitude would completely shift. I thought back to the day I went into labor. I couldn’t get ahold of him no matter how many times I called. I had a difficult labor, and the hospital needed a family member’s signature. Unable to reach him, I shakily signed the critical condition notice myself. What was he doing then? He’d said, “Scarlett’s baby fell down the stairs and is in critical condition. Can you please stop being dramatic?” Before I could even respond, he roughly hung up. When I tried to call back, his phone was off. When I woke up, I found myself in a postpartum recovery center I’d never heard of, and the baby I’d given birth to after such a difficult labor was gone! My phone was missing, and I couldn’t contact anyone. Desperate to find my baby, I tried to escape, but the center’s caregivers grabbed my arms, dragged me back to the room, tied me down, and forced me to eat their disgusting leftovers. I was on the verge of a complete breakdown, almost losing my mind, when I saw the news report of Ryan hosting a baby’s welcome party on TV. The news showed him with his arm around Scarlett, who was holding my baby. His mom, Mrs. Sterling, personally placed a family heirloom bracelet on Scarlett’s wrist, beaming, “Scarlett gave birth to a healthy baby boy; she’s a true blessing to our Sterling family!” A happy family of four, smiling perfectly for the media. And I was tied up like a dead dog in a dark, forgotten recovery center! **Chapter 2** My hands, resting on my lap, clenched into fists. I looked directly at Ryan. “Give me back my baby, or I’ll call the police. You illegally confined me in an unlicensed recovery center just to steal my child!” Ryan’s face instantly paled. Scarlett burst into tears. “I’m a mother too; I know the hardships of childbirth. That’s why I suggested to Ryan that you come to my recovery center. I never thought you’d see me this way, Aubrey. “I never intended to steal your baby; I just wanted to hold him… Besides, you couldn’t attend the welcome party while recovering, so I just went to watch the baby for you. I never thought you’d misunderstand.” Scarlett cried, her voice full of feigned innocence, as if she were the victim. Ryan looked at her with pity, patting her back to comfort her. “You meant well, Scarlett; it’s not your fault.” Then he turned to me, annoyed. “Aubrey, don’t push your luck. Apologize to Scarlett! And go back to the recovery center, or you’ll never see the baby again!” With that, he didn’t wait for my reaction. He motioned to the caregivers behind him, ordering them to forcibly take me away. As the caregivers roughly grabbed me and pulled me to my feet, my brother, Asher, walked in through the door. His gaze was steely, his face grim, and behind him followed several towering bodyguards. “What do you think you’re doing to Aubrey?” The bodyguards stepped forward, seized the caregivers, and delivered several sharp slaps. In moments, their faces were already swollen. These were the same caregivers who had abused me. At the time, I didn’t know the recovery center belonged to Scarlett. Treated like that, I thought I was in a mental institution. I begged them to let me contact Ryan. But they just laughed, “Your husband and Ms. Hayes are the ones who put you in here. You think your husband will take you out?” My heart pounded, and the incision from my C-section throbbed. Guessing that they were intentionally sent by Ryan and Scarlett to torment me, I sternly questioned, “You’re assaulting a patient; that’s illegal. Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?” Their tone was contemptuous. “Our recovery center has been open for so long, and we’ve had countless new mothers. No one has ever successfully reported us. Who do you think you are?” “Just stay put, and we’ll take good care of you!” They didn’t want to waste any more words with me. Their faces were twisted, their nails dirty and dark, as they forcefully pressed down on my abdominal incision. I screamed in excruciating pain, and blood slowly seeped from the wound. And at that very moment, my husband was publicly flaunting his affection with his “white moonlight.” … Ryan stared at my brother, trying to compose himself. His face shifted through a spectrum of emotions as he cautiously spoke, “Aubrey might be suffering from postpartum depression. I just had someone take her back for recovery.” “And how would I not know Aubrey has postpartum depression? Is my Reed Corporation’s medical team somehow inferior to your recovery center?” Asher scoffed. Ryan’s face finally dropped. He abruptly turned to me, his voice dry. “Aubrey, Asher, the CEO of Reed Corp, is your brother? Why didn’t you tell me?” I let out a cold laugh. “Asher is busy with work; he couldn’t make it to our wedding. I was planning to have both our families gather for a meal after the baby was born. Who knew you’d send me to that hellhole instead?” Back then, my parents had reluctantly agreed to my relationship with Ryan but wanted to “vet” him further. They’d told me not to reveal our family’s background to Ryan, which is why he didn’t know I was Asher’s sister, the CEO of Reed Corporation. This year, my grandpa fell ill, and my parents went abroad with him for recovery, while Asher was busy with our international businesses. That’s why, when I had complications during labor, I could only reach out to Ryan. **Chapter 3** Ryan looked on the verge of collapse. I knew that just a while ago, his company had been practically begging and pleading, wining and dining my brother’s company’s business development manager, all to secure a project collaboration with Reed Corp. Asher draped a jacket over my shoulders, then turned to Ryan, a chilling smile playing on his lips. “I was actually thinking of taking my sister’s advice and giving you the project, cooperating with your company seemed acceptable. But I never imagined you’d treat my sister like this.” Asher’s words were, of course, a lie. I just wanted Ryan to taste the hope of success before it was snatched away. A flicker of surprise flashed in Ryan’s eyes, but he quickly tried to maintain his composure. He grabbed my hand, a hint of reproach in his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me about something so important earlier? “I sent you to that recovery center for your own good, but if you didn’t like it, then forget about it.” Every single word was designed to shift blame, never once acknowledging the hell I’d been through at that center. Asher saw this and suppressed his anger, scoffing. “Aubrey suffered there, but I’m not a difficult person. We’ll just follow the law. We’ll call the police and make sure the person in charge of that recovery center and those who abused my sister go to jail, so they can’t harm anyone else.” At that, Scarlett finally panicked. She clutched Ryan’s sleeve, sobbing, “Ryan, I didn’t know they would treat Aubrey like that. I only wanted Aubrey to get the best care. I truly didn’t know… “Aubrey, please, just blame me. Ryan truly didn’t know anything.” She cried so piteously, presenting herself as the ultimate victim. Scarlett was Ryan’s childhood neighbor, his secret crush, the “white moonlight” he’d never truly had. Years ago, she had flirted with Ryan but refused to commit, turning around to marry a wealthy socialite. Who knew that socialite’s family would quickly go bankrupt? She divorced, returning with her child. From then on, Ryan started spending nights away from home. All it took was a little tearful act from her, a whisper that her child was sick and she didn’t know what to do. Ryan would leave my side without a second thought, rushing to her. Meanwhile, I was heavily pregnant, going to my prenatal check-ups alone. When I had a fever, I could only call a ride-share for myself. I had insisted on being with Ryan, and now I had to swallow the bitter consequences myself. I didn’t want my parents to worry, so whenever they called, I always said I was fine. I never expected that this would only embolden Ryan and Scarlett. I scoffed. “Just saying ‘I didn’t know’ doesn’t absolve you of everything. If apologies fixed everything, what would we need the police for?” The atmosphere instantly froze. Asher helped me sit at the table and drink some tea, watching their faces shift nervously. Asher said, “You two should leave. You’re not welcome here. “And Ryan, you can forget about that project.” The next second, Ryan suddenly slapped Scarlett across the face, roaring, “Who told you to treat my wife like that?” Scarlett clutched her red, swollen cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. I clicked my tongue in wonder. Ryan was a ruthless man; for his own gain, he could even lay a hand on the “white moonlight” he’d always treasured. I remembered how, back then, Scarlett had falsely accused me of burning her finger. Ryan had frantically pushed me away, causing me to hit my forehead. He then forced me to apologize and didn’t come home for days, saying he would only forgive me once I truly admitted my mistake. At that time, I wanted to divorce him. But while getting my wound bandaged at the hospital, I unexpectedly discovered I was pregnant. Upon learning of my pregnancy, Ryan was overjoyed and reverted to his old, caring self. I thought he had changed his heart, that the responsibility of a new life had matured him. Later, I learned that Scarlett had damaged her uterus during her daughter’s birth and had to have it removed, making her unable to conceive again. And the baby in my belly was confirmed to be a boy… Ryan had his back to me, so I couldn’t see his expression. Scarlett whimpered, then knelt before me. “I’m so sorry, Aubrey.” Ryan also looked full of remorse. “Aubrey, Scarlett didn’t mean it. We grew up together, so I usually look out for her a little more.” I remained unmoved. I knew full well about Ryan’s lingering feelings for his former “white moonlight.” I just asked him coldly, “Where’s the baby?” Ryan quickly said, “The baby is at our place, perfectly fine.”

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Sixteen, that’s how old I was when I unexpectedly saved Julian. To repay me for saving his life, he spent the night making sure my gambling stepfather, the one who’d broken my legs, landed in prison. Afterward, still bruised, he gently ruffled my hair, a small smile on his face. “Skylar, with me around, no one will ever dare to bully you again.” He kept that promise, protecting me year after year. Because I once said I loved classical music, he pushed himself to become the most renowned pianist in the country. Until five years later, at our engagement party, he was kidnapped. I threw myself to protect him, hitting my head on a stone pillar. The severe trauma slowly stole my mind, leaving me increasingly confused and child-like. From that day on, Julian never touched a piano again. He stayed by my side, caring for me day and night. This went on for three whole years. The once-celebrated genius pianist, a household name, faded into obscurity. On his thirtieth birthday, I’d prepared a house full of surprises just for him. But my memory was so bad. I not only got lost trying to find him, I almost got into a car accident. When the driver called Julian, I could hear a girl’s soft gasps coming from the other end. I didn’t understand why the driver’s face turned crimson, only that Julian was furious. So I asked him. “Julian, what kind of birthday gift do I need to give you to make you not angry?” Julian’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Then go die.”

He said it so seriously, I didn’t react right away. The driver muttered a few more warnings. Half an hour later, I saw Julian’s custom luxury car parked by the roadside. His white suit was a mess, and one of his socks was even on inside out. The driver stood with his hands on his hips, his grating voice like a skipping record from an old-timey musical. It was kind of scary. “What kind of guardian are you? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a dummy in a wheelchair, who can’t even tell north from south, to be wandering around in the street?” “Good thing no one died, just a minor scrape. If she tried to pull a fake accident on my watch, I’d make sure you both ended up in jail!” The driver spit on the ground near Julian’s feet. “Damn unlucky, running into a dummy like this…” Julian bent down, expertly offering a card as an apology. Five minutes later, the driver grumbled and drove off. I knew. I had messed up again. Julian turned to look at me, his eyes, usually so gentle and calm, now seething with rage. “Skylar, how many times has it been this month? You’re either lost or on your way to getting lost.” “Didn’t I tell you to stay home? Why don’t you listen? Do I need to chain you up to make you obey? Do you have any idea how much trouble you cause me?!” His hand tightened on my shoulder, little by little. It landed right on the fresh scrape from the accident, sending excruciating pain through me. I had never seen Julian so angry. Confused, I held out the crooked cake I had made, stammering my explanation. “I’m sorry, Julian. I just wanted to bring you a birthday cake.” “I waited for you all day at home, but you didn’t come, and my calls went unanswered.” His face grew even darker. He swatted the cake out of my hand. “Eat, eat, eat! What else do you do all day besides eating and drinking?” “Skylar, I’m human too. I have my own life. I don’t have time to play house with you!” I watched the cake splattered on the ground like mud, my eyes welling up with tears without me even realizing it. I had spent so long learning how to make it, pestering our neighbor Martha. Martha hadn’t wanted to teach me at first. She’d joked, saying a little dummy like me shouldn’t even bother. It was only after I’d begged her for three days and three nights that she finally caved. Julian’s voice was hoarse with anger, and his grip on my shoulder tightened even more. “Enough, Skylar!” “How much more trouble are you going to cause me?!” My whole body trembled, tears streaming down my face, unbidden. “Julian, it hurts…” Julian suddenly let go. A vein throbbed on his forehead. The next second, he’d pulled me from my wheelchair and dragged me into the passenger seat. He took me to the hospital for more thorough checks. In the office next door. Julian, holding my medical report, repeated the same question for the third time. “Doctor, is her condition really incurable?” “I can pay. Any amount. The hospital needs funding, right? I can provide it, as long as you can cure her.” The doctor just shook his head, helpless. “Mr. Julian, you’ve asked this many times. The world’s leading experts have all been unable to do anything. I also…” The light in Julian’s eyes died.

Julian punched the wall. His knuckles scraped raw. People bustled past. The young nurse bandaging my hand knew me from three years ago. She openly gossiped with her colleagues. “How is this dummy hurt again? How many times has she been here now? Once a week, she’s more diligent than I am clocking in for work.” “Her caretaker must be so pathetic. Stuck with an incurable dummy like her, he’ll probably be dragging this dead weight around for the rest of his life.” “If you ask me, she’d be better off just dying early. Save everyone the trouble…” So, everyone thought I was a burden. What about Julian…? Did he also think I was a huge problem? I desperately shook my head, waving my hands, trying to fool myself. “No, I’m not a burden.” “Julian said I wasn’t…” I wanted to find Julian and ask him, but I forgot that I’d been paralyzed ten years ago. The medicine vials on the table clattered to the floor. Julian appeared in the room, I don’t know when. “Skylar, what are you doing?” Julian’s face was cold as he helped me up from the floor. The shattered glass from the medicine vials had pierced my palm. Julian’s lips were bloodless from biting them. He slowly closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were bloodshot. “Skylar, I was only gone for ten minutes. Why did you hurt yourself again?” “I’m not your slave! I can’t watch you every second!” His voice grew louder, almost a scream. “Why can’t you just take care of yourself? Is your brain messed up *and* your eyes blind? Can’t you see those big glass vials? Did you have to bump into them?!” “When will you stop making me worry?” He slumped, punching his thigh, tears gathering in his eyes. “Skylar, is this my punishment for you saving my life? Why me? Why always me?…” I wanted to comfort him, reaching out to touch his head. His hair, slick with gel, felt stiff and prickly under my touch. “I’m sorry, Julian. I’m just too clumsy.” “I’ll… I’ll be good from now on.” “Don’t cry. Your eyes will hurt if you cry too much. I’ll listen to you from now on…” I wanted to lift my hand to smooth the worried lines from his forehead. But he dodged my touch. A new nurse came in and re-bandaged my wound. Julian went out to take a call. It was from Isabelle. The girl who grew up with Julian, who was on his phone wallpaper, the one people often mentioned. I didn’t know what they talked about. I only knew that on the way home, Julian drove incredibly fast. The tires shrieked against the pavement. The buildings outside blurred past. Just as the speedometer was redlining, I heard Julian call my name. “Skylar, I’m so tired.” “Let’s just die together, okay?” His voice was flat, but held a rare seriousness and determination. I didn’t understand what he meant by “die.” But I knew Julian was so good to me, and I was willing to “die” with him. So I stared into his eyes and answered, just as seriously as him. “Okay.” Julian clearly froze for a second. Just as the car was about to hit the guardrail and plunge into the river, he violently swerved the steering wheel, slamming on the brakes. We both slammed our foreheads into the dash. After a long moment, he lit a cigarette, his body slumped against the seat, but his fist pounded the dashboard. “Skylar, what am I going to do with you? My debt to you was almost repaid. Why did you have to save me again?…” “Why do you always make me owe you? Why is it always like this?” The corners of his eyes were rimmed with an unhealthy red. I clutched the hem of my shirt, at a loss. Like usual, I reached out with my other hand to pull on his fingers. Only this time, what met my touch wasn’t his comforting squeeze, but a men’s ring on his right middle finger. I remembered, Isabelle had one just like it. “Julian, I’m sorry. I won’t run off again.” I didn’t want him to be angry. So I asked again. “Julian, what do you want for your birthday this year?” Martha said wishes made on birthdays always come true. I had collected a house full of birthday presents for him. Surely one of them would make him happy. I wanted Julian to be happy. Julian sharply inhaled, not even glancing up. He put out the cigarette. Repeating the words he’d said two and a half hours ago. “Then go die.”

Before I could ask further, a video call came in. It was Julian’s friends. Behind them was a hotel lobby, confetti scattered all over the floor. “Julian, today’s your engagement party with Ms. Isabelle. Are you really going to ditch her like this? Aren’t you afraid she’ll be mad?” “Do you really want to drag this dummy around forever? Is her family dead or something? Why does she cling to you?” “Honestly, just send her to a psych ward and be done with it. Stop letting her cause you trouble everywhere…” Julian turned off the speakerphone, but their words still drifted straight into my ears. Old memories suddenly became painfully clear. The moldy, damp basement, my drunken, gambling stepfather. I tried to find some happy moments in them. But there were none. Ever since I could remember, the man who called himself my father had only ever beaten and cursed me. The only salvation in my dark world was probably Julian. He always said he owed me a debt of gratitude he had to repay. But actually, I was the one who owed him. If he hadn’t burst into my bleak life like a beam of light that afternoon. I probably would have died under my stepfather’s knife long ago. I didn’t really understand what “death” meant. But if my death could make Julian smile again. Then… I was willing. “Julian, don’t worry. I won’t be a burden to you. Your birthday wish will come true very soon.” Julian hung up the phone. I didn’t hear what he said after that, only that he visibly let out a sigh of relief. Julian locked me in the house and left again. I frantically searched through all the information I could find. Finally, I understood what death was. The internet said that death was leaving this world for another. I didn’t want Julian to die with me. Because that would mean he also had to leave this world. He must not want to leave his friends and family, not want to leave this world. So I would leave alone. But I was still so sad. That way, I wouldn’t be able to see Julian anymore. So I still picked the lock and slipped out. I wanted to see Julian one last time. To tell him not to be sad anymore, that I had a house full of birthday presents for him. And that I was leaving soon. But before I could even leave the complex, Isabelle’s car blocked my way. She kicked over my wheelchair, then stepped on my hand, grinding it against the ground. “Skylar, how can you still live here so shamelessly, staying by Julian’s side?” “If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be living in constant guilt, taking antidepressants every day. You’re nothing but a leech, just like your gambling stepfather. You have dirty blood.” She gripped my jaw so tight, the ring identical to Julian’s dug painfully into my chin. “Do you know why he stopped playing the piano? It’s because of you! Because every time he stepped onto that stage, he’d remember that he was the one who hurt you so badly. He feels he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve such a good life. If it weren’t for taking care of you, he would have been a world-renowned pianist long ago!” “As long as you’re alive in this world, he’ll suffer for another day.” I didn’t understand what she meant by “depression.” I only knew Julian was sick. I didn’t want Julian to be sick, didn’t want him to suffer. I wanted to tell Isabelle that I would die soon, and then Julian wouldn’t suffer anymore. But what came out was. “Julian, don’t be sick. Be well. Live a long and happy life.” Isabelle’s face flushed red, and she suddenly screamed at me. “Skylar, your act might fool Julian, but it doesn’t fool me!” “If you want him to live a long life, then just die! Only when you’re dead will you stop affecting him, stop being a burden!” “Slit your wrists, drown, car crash, hang yourself… there are so many ways to die! Why don’t you just die?!” My face was scraped raw against the ground. The protective charm Julian had given me was being trampled under her foot. He had climbed nine hundred ninety-nine steps to get it for me three years ago. I had treasured it ever since. So I pushed her with all my might, trying to get the charm back. “This is Julian’s… Don’t step on it.” “Don’t.” Isabelle was shoved by me, falling backward, straight into Julian’s arms. Julian’s face was cold as he shielded Isabelle in his embrace. The next second, I was thrown to the ground, my tailbone screaming in agonizing pain.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “300930”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #励志Inspiring #后宫Harem #玄幻Fantasy #校园School