My mother was dying. I begged my fiancé, Ryan, to advance part of our wedding fund for her surgery. He turned around and got engaged to Serena. In my deepest despair, my childhood friend, Richard Blackwood, knelt before me in the hospital, proposed, and handed me a check for a million dollars. I accepted without hesitation, rushing to schedule my mother’s operation. But in the end, she never made it off the operating table. Drowned in grief, I let Richard handle all the funeral arrangements. Our wedding went on as planned. Five years later, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. “Richard, you never thought about what would happen if Brittney found out? That you sacrificed her mother just to save Serena’s? You were willing to risk everything for her?” “If I have to pay, I’ll pay. For her, I’d do anything. It was just one life. I’ve given Brittney the rest of mine to repay the debt. That should be enough.” Tears fell, hot and uncontrollable. I finally understood. The marriage I had so carefully nurtured was a lie from the very beginning. His heart had only ever belonged to Serena. Fine. If that’s what he wanted, I would get out of their way. 1 Through the thin wall of his study, I heard Richard’s voice, thick with a sorrow that was not for me. “Since she didn’t choose me,” he said, “saving her mother was the only thing I could do for her, to ensure she had no regrets. As for Brittney… I’m giving her my entire life as compensation. That has to be enough.” His best friend, Mark, sounded uneasy. “It’s a shame Serena still has no idea what you did for her. That was a life, Richard! If anyone finds out, you’ll spend the rest of yours in prison. Is a woman who doesn’t even love you worth all that?” “My heart decides if it’s worth it. As long as she’s happy, I’d do anything. Forget Brittney’s mother—I’d give her my own organs without blinking.” His voice hardened. “Don’t bring this up again. It’s in the past. All that matters is that she’s happy now.” “And Brittney? I think she’s really fallen in love with you. What happens if she finds out you murdered her mom?” A moment of silence, then the soft click of a lighter. Through the haze of smoke, Richard’s voice was laced with self-mockery. “Then I’ll pay with my life. The money I’ve made these past few years… it’s enough for her to live on forever.” “Man… I don’t get you,” Mark sighed. “Brittney’s a good woman. Why are you still so hung up on… never mind. It’s your life. If this is what you want.” The sound of footsteps approaching sent me scrambling back to my room. The hot tea I was holding spilled onto my hand, but all I felt was a profound, bone-deep cold. My mother hadn’t died in a life-saving surgery. She had died in a conspiracy he orchestrated for Serena. When Ryan had broken off our engagement, leaving me a laughingstock, Richard’s proposal wasn’t meant to give me happiness. It was meant to deliver the final, killing blow. Our entire marriage had been his guilt-ridden compensation. And I had proudly paraded his pity around like a trophy, thinking it was love. How utterly absurd. The front door clicked shut. Mark was gone. A moment later, Richard stumbled into our bedroom, reeking of alcohol. He cupped my face, his drunken eyes filled with a tenderness that now felt like poison as he planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “Why were you standing by the door?” “It’s nothing,” I lied smoothly. “I just spilled some tea and was about to clean it up.” “Leave it for the housekeeper. You’re not well, you should be resting. It breaks my heart to see you tired.” He leaned in and kissed me again, his touch as gentle and loving as it had always been. But this time, I felt no warmth. To think a person could go to such lengths for someone else. I closed my eyes, and a single tear escaped, tracing a cold path down my cheek. I helped him into bed and pulled the covers over him. He was asleep in moments. Sitting beside him, I picked up his phone. I only had to try one password. Serena’s birthday. I navigated to his files, pulling up the business contracts he’d signed over the past five years. Without exception, every major deal was a partnership with Ryan’s company. I’d never set foot in Richard’s office, but I didn’t need to be a businesswoman to see the profits he’d sacrificed just to work with her. The company’s brand ambassador was Serena’s favorite celebrity. The real estate projects were in neighborhoods Serena loved. Even the final payment amounts on the invoices were coded with numbers significant to her: her birthday, her wedding anniversary, the date she and Richard first met. My hand trembled as I opened his private photo album. It was filled with picture after picture of Serena smiling. Serena at charity galas as Ryan’s wife. Serena celebrating a successful project with Ryan. In every photo, Ryan’s face was neatly cropped out, leaving only her. A thousand photos, a perfect chronicle of her life over the last five years. Beyond that, there were records of countless jewelry purchases from high-end auctions. He’d had them all sent to Serena, officially billed as corporate gifts to a valued partner. His hidden love was a roaring, secret flame, tucked into every corner of his life. The details burned, leaving a sour ache in my chest. I recognized some of the jewelry brands. He had given me pieces from them, too—the cheap complimentary trinkets the auction houses threw in with major purchases—and told me they were special gifts he’d picked out just for me. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t look anymore. Instead, I booked a one-way ticket to a foreign country, departing in three days. Then I filed an application to have all of my official identification documents canceled and reissued under a new name. Three days. It was more than enough time to erase five years of lies. I didn’t sleep at all. The next morning, as I was getting ready, my phone buzzed with an official notification. Moments later, Richard’s voice called out from the bedroom. “Brittney? What’s this about canceling your documents?” I quickly walked back in and took the phone, my voice even. “It’s nothing. My driver’s license expired, so I scheduled an appointment to get it renewed.” I changed the subject. “Don’t you have a big meeting today? You should get going.” He didn’t question it. He just pulled me into his arms, his lips brushing against my ear. “Thank you, my love. Marrying such a thoughtful wife is the best thing that ever happened to me.” I smiled but said nothing. “As a reward, how about I get you a huge present today?” “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be waiting at home.” The moment Richard left, his assistant delivered a gourmet breakfast from my favorite hotel. For five years, he had done this every single day. I used to think it was a symbol of his love. Now I saw it for what it was: a convenient, thoughtless gesture. If he really loved me, wouldn’t he have learned to cook a single one of my favorite dishes in five years? He had put so much effort into keeping me placated, keeping me away from Serena. I dumped the breakfast into the trash and walked out the door. It was time to end this five-year charade. The government office wasn’t busy. I filled out my final forms and then went to a lawyer’s office. A divorce agreement where one party leaves with nothing was a standard template. I had two copies in my hand within the hour. I took the papers to Richard’s company. As I walked in, I could hear the employees whispering. “Is that Mrs. Blackwood? She’s stunning! No wonder the boss keeps her hidden away like a treasure.” “That’s definitely her! I personally delivered that necklace she’s wearing last week! I heard it went for five million at auction! I could work since the Stone Age and never afford that. I’m so jealous!” “I heard they were childhood sweethearts, and she was his first love! He built an empire and still only has eyes for one woman. It’s like a real-life fairy tale, isn’t it?” I reached the top floor and stood outside his office. I could hear a familiar voice from within. “Is he treating you well?” It was Richard. “Yes, he’s wonderful,” Serena replied. “He just bought me a small island a few days ago, said he wanted to give me a proper honeymoon. Honestly, married for five years and he’s still such a romantic…” Richard’s voice was heavy with a pained, suppressed longing. “That’s good. As long as you’re happy, I can rest easy.” “You too,” Serena said, her tone shifting. “Why did you send such an expensive gift again? Brittney will be upset if she finds out.” That was Serena’s way. Take everything she could get, then turn around and mock me with feigned concern. She was the one who had rushed to the hospital after Ryan broke our engagement, gleefully announcing the news at my mother’s bedside. The shock sent my mother into a seizure, and she was rushed into surgery that very night. When I confronted Serena, both Ryan and Richard had shown up, and both of them had sided with her, scolding me for being unreasonable. That was the day I cut ties with Ryan and Serena for good. And Richard became my only savior. Now I knew he was the one who had pushed me into the abyss. His secretary, in a hurry to deliver some contracts, rushed toward the door and threw it open before I could move. Richard’s eyes widened in surprise. “Brittney? What are you doing here? Don’t get the wrong idea, Serena just stopped by to chat… and to discuss the new project collaboration. She’s the lead on it for her company…” “Brittney, long time no see,” Serena said, rising from her chair. She was dressed in the latest haute couture, making me feel like a frumpy country mouse. I forced a smile, swallowing my bitterness. “It’s nothing. I was just shopping nearby and thought I’d stop by. Since you’re busy, I’ll head home.” Richard, thinking I was angry, chased after me, tripping over his words to explain. Seeing him so flustered for my sake, I almost wanted to laugh. He had deliberately taken a loss on the deal with Ryan’s company just for a chance to be near Serena. Now that she was here, who was this performance for? “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice gentle. “I’m not that unreasonable. You focus on your work. I’ll be a good girl and wait for you at home.” He let out a visible sigh of relief and had his secretary escort me downstairs. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, the employees’ gazes turned sharp with ridicule. They pointed and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. I ignored them and left. After we married, he told me he didn’t want me to tire myself out with work, that he wanted me to live a life free of worries. I believed him, and I became a housewife, tethered to our home. Meanwhile, Serena, my former classmate, had become a project director at a major corporation. The gap between us was now a chasm—in perspective, in ability. I could no longer compete with her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Richard? Your precious Serena is safe from me now. I am no longer a threat. Back home, I gathered everything he had given me over the past five years into a large box. I took it outside and set it on fire. Just as the flames began to lick at the contents, Serena appeared out of nowhere. She kicked the box over. Burning photographs scattered across the pavement, some embers landing on her clothes, but she just smiled. “Brittney, after all these years, you’re still just as pathetic.” “You couldn’t protect your own mother then, and you can’t protect yourself now. You’re a joke!” She knew? She knew about the surgery? A white-hot rage flared inside me. I slapped her across the face. I didn’t use much force, but she stumbled backward dramatically, falling right into the fire. I froze, stunned. Before I could react, a figure shot past me, shoving me hard to the ground. Richard scooped Serena into his arms, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen before. “Brittney! What are you doing? Are you insane?” he roared. “Serena came here out of the goodness of her heart to see you, to clear up the misunderstandings from the past, and you attack her?” His face was a mask of rage. All traces of love were gone. I smirked. “She mentioned my mother, Richard.” I met his furious gaze. “Speaking of past misunderstandings, don’t you two owe me an explanation?” His brow furrowed, and a flicker of panic crossed his eyes. “What explanation? Your mother was critically ill, the surgery failed. You know this.” He shook his head, his voice hardening again. “Whatever happened back then is no excuse for you to hurt Serena! Apologize to her. Now!” Before I could speak, Serena wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t… don’t be hard on Brittney,” she whimpered. “It was our fault for what happened with Ryan. Just let this be my way of making it up to her…” She looked at me with tear-filled eyes. “Since she hates me so much, maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” My nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. Watching them walk away, clinging to each other, I knew. We were finished. I calmly picked up the scattered contents of the box and threw them back into the flames. Five years of love turned to ash. An hour later, a text from Richard arrived. “Serena is the project lead, after all. Hurting her is bad for business. Making you apologize was just a tactic, a show for her. Don’t overthink it.” “I’ll make it up to you tonight when I get home, okay? I told you I have a gift for you. Don’t be sad.” But I knew the show wasn’t for Serena. It was for me. He had been acting out this deep love for five years. Now, it was time for the curtain to fall. I waited at home with the divorce papers until after midnight. He never came. Instead, news broke online: The CEO of Blackwood Enterprises had caused a scene at the hospital, all for a woman. Serena had a few minor burns, but he had summoned the entire hospital’s team of specialists to treat her, sparing no expense and reportedly spending over a million dollars. In the photos, he held her protectively in his arms. The look in his eyes was a mixture of tenderness and passion I had never seen directed at me. The hospital was lit up all night, all for one woman’s minor scrapes. The next morning, I called him. He answered but was busy giving instructions to his secretary. “Mr. Blackwood, are you sure you want to amend the contract?” the secretary asked, aghast. “Our company will lose over a hundred million on this project!” “Please, reconsider, sir!” “No need,” Richard said firmly. “Just do it. It’s the compensation I promised her. Also, draw up another contract. Transfer half of my shares in the company to Serena.” The secretary left, and only then did Richard seem to remember he was on the phone. “Brittney? Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m on my way home now. Did you need something?” I looked down at the angry red burn on my hand from the day before. “No, it’s nothing. Go on, I won’t disturb you.” “Okay. You be good and wait for me. I’ll be right there.” I didn’t wait. I signed my name on the divorce papers, packed a small suitcase, and left the house for the last time. I went to the hospital where my mother had died and requested the records for her organ transplant agreement. At the bottom of the page, where the signature should have been mine, was a masterful forgery of my handwriting, signed by Richard. I made a copy of the agreement and mailed it to his office. By my calculations, he would receive it just as my plane was taking off. I was gone for a day and a night. He never came home. Just as I was boarding the plane, a message from him finally came through. “Brittney, I had the assistant deliver your gift. Why aren’t you opening the door?” “Are you still mad at me?” “Don’t be difficult. Be a good girl. I’m on my way home now.” Another lie. Thirty minutes earlier, a social media influencer had posted a live video of him shopping with Serena, gushing about the chance encounter. As I boarded, the video was still streaming. He was busy helping Serena pick out a dress for the press conference that would announce her as a major shareholder. I didn’t reply. I received a text confirming my old identity had been successfully voided. I deleted his number and all our conversations. In the live video, his secretary suddenly rushed into the boutique, holding a document, his face pale with panic. “Mr. Blackwood, it’s bad! Your wife… she knows about the surgery from five years ago! I can’t reach her!” Richard looked at him, confused. “What surgery? What are you talking about?” The secretary, frantic, held up the forged agreement I had mailed. “This! Your wife sent this to the office! This is the consent form you signed for her on the day of the surgery! She knows!” He was almost shouting. “I tried calling her the moment the package arrived, but her number is disconnected! I think something’s happened to her!”

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The wedding of the century was supposed to be my masterpiece. Instead, it was my undoing. All because my husband chose to protect his intern over me, deliberately concealing a critical change from our biggest client. After I finished my presentation, the truth crashed down on me. The client, a titan of industry, accused me of unprofessionalism. In that single, humiliating moment, I saw my husband, Steven, for who he truly was. If he was willing to gamble our company’s reputation to boost his new favorite, then I was done fighting for him. “You trust her so much?” I told him, my voice dangerously calm. “Then I wish you both the best of luck with the project.” My best friend was furious on my behalf. I’d poured six months of my life into this plan. But Steven, smugly holding my proposal, thought he had the world in his hands. He had no idea. The most crucial elements for this wedding—the rare flowers, the exclusive artisans, the bespoke decor—were things only I could secure. This time, even if he got on his knees and begged, I wouldn’t lift a finger to save him. … Our event planning studio had landed the contract of a lifetime: orchestrating the wedding for the children of two of New York’s most powerful families. Success meant we’d be catapulted to the top of the industry. I’d spent half a year meticulously preparing for this moment. I walked into the conference room, portfolio in hand, radiating confidence. I was ready to dazzle them. But as I began my presentation, a murmur rippled through the room. Mr. Sterling, the groom’s father, slammed my design portfolio onto the polished floor. “Ms. Thompson, you gave us your solemn promise that you would deliver perfection. And yet you weren’t even aware we changed the venue? You have a stunning lack of professional integrity. We want a new planner.” His accusation left me frozen. “Changed the venue? When was this decided?” I asked, my mind reeling. Before I could say more, my husband, Steven, lunged forward, his fingers digging into my arm as he yanked me aside. “Mr. Sterling, my sincerest apologies,” he said, plastering on a placating smile. “We actually have an alternative proposal ready. Why don’t you hear it? If you’re not completely satisfied, we’ll cover all associated costs.” Standing beside him was the intern, Maggie Hill. She shot me a fleeting, triumphant glance before striding confidently to the front of the room. As she spoke, a cold dread washed over me. Her plan… it was a ghost of my own, a 70% echo of the work I had poured my soul into. When she finished, a satisfied smile finally spread across Mr. Sterling’s face. He looked pointedly at me. “See? The younger generation gets it. They’re hungry. Not like some veterans who get complacent before they’ve even reached the top.” I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Steven cut me off, nodding in agreement with Mr. Sterling. “You’re absolutely right, sir. I’m afraid it’s my fault. I’ve been too lenient with Julie, given her too much freedom. I never imagined she’d betray my trust and forget something so fundamental. Thank goodness Maggie is so proactive and had a backup plan ready.” Mr. Sterling nodded, impressed. “This Maggie is sharp. I think it’s time you made her a permanent employee.” Listening to them, the pieces clicked into place, forming a picture so ugly I could barely look at it. Steven had deliberately hidden the venue change from me. All for Maggie. He was using this high-profile project, backed by the Sterling name, as a launchpad for her career. I remembered when we first landed the contract. Steven had suggested giving “the new talent” more opportunities. I see now he meant Maggie all along. Maggie beamed at them, a picture of innocence. “Thank you so much, Mr. Sterling. And I owe it all to Steven’s incredible mentorship. I promise you, I will personally oversee every detail of this event. There will be no mistakes.” Only after securing their praise did she feign to notice me, her expression turning to one of deep apology. “Julie, I… I never meant to steal your project. I just wanted to learn so badly, so I kept preparing my own proposals for Steven to review. I had no idea you’d make such a critical error and that mine would be used instead. It was an accident.” Before I could respond, Steven jumped to her defense. “Someone as hardworking, dedicated, and talented as you is an asset any company would fight for. How could we possibly blame you?” His words were like daggers to my heart. I was his wife, the person who was supposed to be his closest confidante. Yet here he was, tearing me down for a complete stranger. Maggie and I came from the same small town. She didn’t meet our company’s hiring criteria, but her earnest plea for a chance softened my heart, and I brought her on. At first, she was diligent and hardworking. Her skills were raw, but I believed in her potential. Things changed a few months ago when I had to travel internationally for this very wedding, sourcing materials. I’d asked Steven to supervise her in my absence. In the beginning, he complained constantly about how clumsy she was, how she nearly sabotaged one of his projects. I’d urged him to be patient, to teach her. Gradually, the complaints stopped. I assumed it was because she was improving. I never imagined it was because their relationship had changed. When I returned, I planned to have Maggie resume her duties as my assistant. But Steven protested. “Come on, I just finished molding this raw talent into something useful, and now you want to take her away? I’d have to start all over with a new assistant. Have a heart, honey.” It felt strange, but I let him convince me. I was a fool. The signs were all there. Now, finally, I understood. If Steven wanted to build her a pedestal, I wouldn’t stand in his way. “Fine,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Since you have so much faith in her abilities, then I’m out.” I turned to them both. “I wish you the best of luck.” I walked away without a backward glance. Behind me, I heard Maggie’s anxious whisper. “Steven, I think she’s really angry. I’m just an intern, how can I possibly take over a project this big?” Steven’s voice was firm, unwavering. “She’s the one who lost her focus. You didn’t force her out; she gave up. I’ve seen your work, Maggie. You’re the future of this industry. I know you can do this.” I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to turn around and witness their touching moment of solidarity. That afternoon, Maggie celebrated by buying the whole office bubble tea. My colleagues immediately started singing her praises. “I knew all your hard work would pay off, Maggie!” “Don’t forget us when you’re a senior planner!” Seeing her smug, triumphant expression, I let out a cold, quiet laugh. Did she really think getting the proposal approved was the same as winning? That was just the first step. The real challenge—sourcing the materials—was yet to come. The Sterlings and their in-laws were old money. This wedding wasn’t just a ceremony; it was a statement of their families’ power and prestige. There was a reason I’d spent months flying back and forth across the globe. A moment later, Maggie pushed open my office door without knocking, a plastic cup of bubble tea in her hand. She casually dropped it on my desk. “Here, Julie. I bought you a drink. Hope you like it.” I frowned. I hate overly sweet things, a fact I’d mentioned to her countless times when she was my assistant. She must have forgotten, having spent so much time at Steven’s side. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t drink bubble tea. You can have it,” I said, waving it away. Just then, the door opened again. It was Steven. Seeing him, Maggie suddenly stumbled, letting the cup of bubble tea slip from her grasp. It splattered all over her, the dark liquid and tapioca pearls staining the floor. She shot a quick glance at Steven, then immediately feigned panic. “Oh, I’m so clumsy! I can’t even do something as simple as giving you a drink, Julie.” She looked at me, saw the smirk playing on my lips, and her eyes widened in alarm. She dropped to her knees and started frantically trying to wipe up the mess with the hem of her own dress. “I’m so sorry, Julie! I’ll get it clean, I promise! I won’t bring drinks into the office again, please don’t be angry!” Steven strode forward, his brow furrowed in anger. He pulled Maggie to her feet. “Julie, is this how you treat our star employee? If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t just have a damaged reputation—we’d be facing a massive lawsuit!” I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Who made the ‘mistake’? Who hid the fact that Mr. Sterling changed the venue? And that proposal of hers—who do you think really wrote it? Others might not know, Steven, but you do, don’t you?” He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he took off his own jacket and draped it gently around Maggie’s shoulders. “You’ve been through enough, Maggie. Why don’t you go home for the day?” Watching them, a chill crept through my veins. Once we were alone in the office, his anger finally erupted. “What is wrong with you? Why are you always imagining things? I was swamped with clients, I was exhausted, I just forgot to tell you! It’s that simple!” “And Maggie’s proposal?” I shot back. “I suppose it’s just a coincidence that it sounds exactly like something I would write, after months of you ‘mentoring’ her?” “If you don’t want to work, then just go home!” he snarled. “Go be a housewife. My mother’s been nagging me for a grandchild anyway. You can stay home, clean the house, take care of my parents, and raise the kids. Leave the business to me.” Maggie had deliberately left the door ajar on her way out. She wanted the whole office to hear me get humiliated. Fine. Let’s see who would truly be the laughingstock. I let out a derisive snort. “Steven, just because they call you ‘boss’ doesn’t mean you’re actually in charge. And as for me becoming a housewife? You’re not nearly man enough to make me.” I leaned forward, my voice dropping but carrying clearly through the open door. “And another thing. This company has always promoted based on merit. Seducing the boss might get you ahead for a little while, but it’s not a sustainable career path in this industry.” Steven’s face turned crimson with rage. “What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you slander a talented colleague like that? You’re just threatened by her! You’re afraid she’s going to replace you!” I shrugged. “Well then, I look forward to the day your ‘intensive training’ pays off.” Our argument echoed through the quiet office. I saw my colleagues exchange knowing glances. They understood exactly what I was implying. A brand-new intern with no experience, producing a flawless, high-level proposal in just a few months? Impossible without a lot of hands-on guidance. To celebrate Maggie’s “success” in saving the project, Steven decided to make her promotion official immediately. The company had a tradition of holding a welcome party for every new full-time employee. Maggie put on a show of inviting me, but Steven stopped her. “She loves to work so much, let’s not disturb her,” he announced to the office. “Everyone else, let’s clock out early and go celebrate!” A cheer went up, and moments later, the office was silent and empty. The sudden quiet was deafening. My heart ached. Steven and I had built this company from nothing, just the two of us. Now, he was shutting me out completely. I needed to get out. I called my best friend, and we hit a bar. After venting for an hour, I started to feel a bit more human. She, on the other hand, had her eyes glued to the dancers on stage and, with my blessing, eagerly dove into the crowd. I nursed a drink, feeling bored, and was about to find my own entertainment when I spotted a familiar group in a booth across the room: Steven and the team. Maggie was nestled right beside him, her cheeks flushed as she gazed at him adoringly. Someone tried to make her drink, and Steven smoothly intercepted the glass, downing it for her. It was a scene I knew all too well. He used to do that for me. “As long as I’m here,” he’d once said, “you’ll never have to drink anything you don’t want to.” Maggie saw me first. She immediately got up and rushed over, linking her arm through mine with practiced friendliness, pulling me toward their table. “Julie! You’re here! You should have told us. I bet you and Steven have made up.” She smiled brightly. “Every couple fights. Steven’s so forgiving, I knew he wouldn’t stay mad at you.” Every word was a carefully crafted barb, designed to paint me as the one at fault. She then gave Steven a little push. “Steven, come on. Julie is clearly extending an olive branch. Don’t let me be the villain in your love story. If you two don’t make up, all those nasty rumors about me in the office will just get worse.” Clever. She was publicly addressing the very rumors I’d started, framing herself as the victim. Steven puffed out his chest, playing his part perfectly. “Alright, since you’ve admitted you were wrong, I won’t hold it against you. For the sake of our marriage. But I will not tolerate a senior manager bullying a junior employee.” He fixed me with a stern look. “You’re my wife. You need to set an example. Apologize to Maggie, and I’ll forgive you.” He leaned back against the sofa, legs crossed, a condescending smirk on his face like a king addressing a peasant. Maggie picked up a glass of wine from the table and held it out, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

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After being abducted, I gave birth to eight children. For ten years, I was chained in a pigsty, my mind shattered. Finally, the police found me and brought me back to my biological parents. My father held a large bag of snacks I loved as a child, his eyes red and raw. My mother gently combed through my matted, lice-infested hair, her voice choked with sobs. “It’s our fault, honey. We’re so sorry we lost you.” My younger sister stood beside them, already a mess of tears. Our family of four, finally reunited. But just when I had finally escaped the shadows of the past decade and could live like a normal person again, I did the unthinkable. I fed my sister a massive dose of pesticide. I chopped off my mother’s fingers, one by one, as she was preparing a feast for me. Then, I took the knife to my father’s legs, hacking them until he could no longer stand. As I watched them lying in pools of their own blood, gasping for their last breaths, a sense of relief washed over me. I calmly picked up the phone and called the police. 1. When the police arrived, I was quietly eating the blood-spattered cake on the table. It was the cake my mother had spent all evening baking for me. The cloying sweetness of the cream mixed with the coppery tang of rust in my mouth. After finishing the last bite, I turned and tore up the property transfer documents lying on the table beside me. The deed was in my name. The front door burst open. The first officer through, a young woman, let out a stifled scream and stumbled back. The officers behind her froze, their faces a mask of horror at the scene before them. I turned my head, my expression placid, and looked at the crowd gathering at the doorway. Neighbors craned their necks, their eyes a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity. Two of the officers lunged at me, treating me like a dangerous animal, and slammed me to the floor. The cold tiles and the sharp, sudden pain made me wince, but then a laugh escaped my lips. I had caught sight of the scattered, minced pieces of flesh on the floor. My mother’s fingers. Not far away, my father’s head had rolled into a corner, his eyes wide in a silent, eternal question. I tried to crawl closer to get a better look, but a heavy boot in my side stopped me. “Stay down!” a harsh voice commanded. “A monster like you will get what you deserve from the law.” I coughed, the taste of blood filling my mouth. Judgment? I had been waiting for this moment for a very, very long time. As they escorted me out of the building, the detective who had single-handedly fought off the villagers to rescue me pushed his way to the front of the crowd. His weary eyes, clouded with disbelief, fixed on me. “Did you really kill them? It’s not possible… You’re not that kind of person, Katie.” I smiled, a gentle, almost warm expression. “But I am, Detective Miller. I was born bad. It was all just an act.” Hearing my words, the man who had checked on me regularly since my return recoiled, his expression shifting from disappointment to horror. His face went pale, and he took an involuntary step back, his lips trembling, unable to form words. Seeing his reaction felt like a stone crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. I forced myself to add, my voice soft, “That’s right. I killed them all—my father, my mother, and my sister. I didn’t spare a single one.” My confession hung in the heavy night air. The crowd erupted. “Her parents were so good to her… I remember how they went crazy looking for her after she was taken,” a middle-aged woman said. “For ten whole years, they cried every day, plastering missing person posters on every street corner. They wasted away to nothing…” “Exactly!” another familiar voice chimed in. “I heard when they found her, she was chained up in a pigsty, had eight kids… Her parents went through hell to bring her back, gave her this life of luxury, and she throws it all away!” “That backwoods husband of hers must have put her up to it.” “If we’d known this would happen, maybe they shouldn’t have…” The speaker trailed off. “Get her out of here! It’s dangerous to have someone like that around!” The chorus of condemnation was a heavy shroud over the night. An officer impatiently waved the crowd back, and their angry shouts dissolved into hushed whispers. Detective Miller’s eyes, usually so calm, were still filled with a profound disbelief. We looked at each other through the window of the police car, his gaze trying to bore through my façade. “If someone is threatening you, or…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “You can tell me the truth. I will help you.” I just shook my head, my smile widening, my voice taking on a childlike glee. “I’m so glad you came… All I ever wanted was for you to take me away.” 2. It was almost 4 a.m. by the time I was settled in the precinct’s interrogation room. I kept my head down, letting them move around me. “Dr. Evans, could you give her a psychological evaluation first?” an officer’s voice said from above. “Considering the state we found her in…” I looked up as a middle-aged man in a suit approached. He had a professional, practiced smile and a stack of papers in his hand. I knew what they were. A psychiatric assessment form. Behind the one-way mirror, I could almost hear Detective Miller arguing with his colleagues. “It can’t be her. You don’t know what she’s been through… She just got back… She wouldn’t…” His voice was thick with compassion. I knew he was a good man, but I never imagined he’d still be defending me, even now. I smiled as the doctor sat down across from me. Before he could even speak, I looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not insane,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm. “You’re here to test my memory, logical reasoning, and attention to detail, correct?” I pointed to the one-way mirror. “Since I entered this room, four people have been in the observation room. The first was a female officer in uniform; she left about two minutes ago. The second and third were plainclothes detectives, likely from the homicide unit, based on their conversation. They’re standing behind the glass right now. The last one was the stenographer, who just went in to take notes.” Dr. Evans blinked, stunned. I continued, “Furthermore, you weren’t scheduled to be here today, were you? You were called in unexpectedly about half an hour ago. I can tell from the slight wrinkles in your shirt and the scuff marks on your shoes—you left in a hurry.” I paused, a knowing smile playing on my lips. “Shall I also explain why the camera in this room was repositioned ten minutes ago?” The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The doctor’s expression froze. He glanced at the one-way mirror, from which a muffled commotion could be heard. “This woman’s perception and analytical skills are perfectly normal,” Dr. Evans said, standing up, his voice tight. “In fact, they’re far more acute than average.” The corner of my mouth twitched upwards. After all, the truly insane know precisely how to fake their sanity. And I… I was just waiting for the perfect moment. The moment for the truth to finally see the light of day. An hour later, Detective Miller walked in. For a second, my eyes burned. The man standing before me was not the same one from a year ago. The warmth and pity in his gaze were gone, replaced by a deep, visceral disgust. Of course. Who wouldn’t be disgusted by a monster who had slaughtered her own family? His sharp eyes were fixed on me as he flipped through the report in his hands. He asked his first question. “What was your relationship with your sister like? Were you ever jealous of her? Did your parents show favoritism?” I paused, then answered quickly. “My sister and I had a wonderful relationship. As for favoritism, if anything, my parents seemed to favor me.” He stared at me, searching for a crack in my story. “Tell me, in detail, how you felt about your sister.” The room fell silent again. After a moment, I began to speak slowly. “This morning, for example, my mother and sister rushed out to go grocery shopping. Just before they left, my sister ran back to drape a light jacket over my shoulders, telling me the early summer breeze could still be chilly. She made sure to pack my favorite strawberry cake and chocolates in separate containers, worried the flavors might mix. She remembered everything I liked, even snacks I had idly mentioned wanting as a child.” Detective Miller cut me off. “And your father? What was your relationship with him?” I gave a small, almost mischievous smile. “It was good. My father did everything he could to make up for the past. You saw that yourself, didn’t you?” My words seemed to ignite a fire in him. He shot to his feet, slamming his hands on the interrogation table. “Stop playing games!” he roared. “Give me the details!” I let out a long, heavy sigh, as if expelling years of pent-up grief. “Alright. Let me start with what happened this morning.” I slowly raised my cuffed hands and placed them on the cold metal table. The clink of steel on steel was sharp and jarring. This was the first time I had ever stood up to him. We locked eyes, a silent battle of wills in the tense, suffocating air. The year I was home, my parents and sister were good to me. So good, it was as if they were trying to cram ten years of guilt and apology into a single year. The neighbors all said my years of suffering would be repaid with a lifetime of happiness. Today was supposed to be a party to celebrate the one-year anniversary of my return. This morning, my mother and sister hurried out to buy groceries. My father left early too, and though I didn’t know where he went, I knew he was preparing a surprise. And he was. When he returned, he had a thin piece of paper and a heavy box. It was the deed to the house, already signed and notarized. And a 1.4-ounce solid gold bracelet. I watched my mother and sister return, their arms laden with bags filled with all my favorite foods and snacks. Even in the summer heat, with sweat soaking through their clothes, they wouldn’t let me help carry anything. “Mommy’s going to make you a cake today,” my mother said, stroking my hair, her eyes full of tenderness. “I’ve never made one before, so you can’t make fun of it!” “I’ll help, big sister!” my sister said, tying on an apron. “I’ve been secretly watching baking videos for days. I promise we’ll make your favorite flavor.” Before starting the cake, my mother meticulously cleaned my room, not leaving a single stray hair. She did this every day for a year, saying that since I had lived in filth for so long, she would ensure the rest of my days were clean and beautiful. They poured all their guilt into a bottomless well of love for me. They spoiled me rotten. There were no arguments. Whatever I wanted, they bought. I sat on the sofa, watching them bustle around. All for me. I was enveloped in a cocoon of love. I answered his questions mechanically, my voice too calm for someone who had just annihilated their family. The interrogation room fell into a dead silence. “Then tell me how you killed them,” Detective Miller’s voice, cold as ice, broke through my reverie. My throat felt tight, my own voice trembling but laced with a strange, eerie calm. “I loved my parents and my sister very much. They were so good to me. Naturally, I had to repay their kindness…” A barely perceptible smile touched my lips. “So I made sure they died as a complete family, all neat and tidy.”

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Live on New Year’s Eve, my brother called me. I spoke first. “May you have peace and joy, and live a long, full life.” My brother let out a cold, sharp laugh. “But I don’t want you to have joy or a long life, Lisa. I hope you live in misery forever.” I had cut ties with my brother the year he lost everything. Now that he was a titan of industry, his first order of business was revenge. My voice remained steady. “May you have peace and joy, and live a long, full life.” His patience snapped. “Enough. I could never wish you well. If I have to wish you anything, I wish you eternal suffering.” The show’s host hesitated for a moment before gently interrupting him. “Mr. Chase… that was just a recording of your sister’s voice. When she passed… she was, as you said, in a great deal of pain.” 1 “Passed?” Matt Chase froze, then a sneer twisted his lips. “I hope you mean she’s dead.” The host paused, then simply gestured to the massive screen behind Matt. My face appeared on it. In the video, I slapped a hand over the camera lens. Rain plastered my hair and shirt to my skin, a picture of pure misery. My voice was raw with irritation. “Stop filming. I didn’t agree to this.” A moment later, a warm, magnetic voice replied, full of sincerity. “I’m not a con artist, I swear. I’m a filmmaker. I make documentaries about people’s lives. I can help you.” I turned away from the dumpster I’d been rummaging through and pressed my face close to the lens. “Oh yeah? Can you cure my cancer?” The man behind the camera fell silent. I stretched my lips into a hollow smile. “Don’t waste your time. Find someone else.” “Wait… I can try!” He grabbed my arm as I turned to leave. I looked him up and down, from his shirt and belt to his pants and shoes, and let out a short, sharp laugh. “Twenty bucks, sixty, forty, fifty,” I ticked off. “Oh, and the camera. Bought it secondhand, didn’t you? Do you have any idea how much my treatment costs?” I held up five fingers to the lens. “Half a million dollars.” The man’s breath hitched. I smiled and walked back out into the rain, bending over one dumpster after another. “Shadow? Shadow, where are you?” He followed me. “What are you looking for?” “A dog.” “Is he yours?” “No. I collapsed earlier. He licked me awake.” The man said nothing. I looked up at him. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, then leave. There are plenty of people in this world you can help. Don’t waste your time on me.” My hand covered the lens. The screen went black. 2 [AFTERLIFE — 10.11.2023, 9:32 AM — The Chase Family Heiress Needs No One’s Pity] “You’re Lisa Chase. Matt Chase’s sister, right?” I was sweeping the floor in the back kitchen of a café. I frowned at the voice. “You again?” The man’s voice came from behind the camera. “Everyone online says you’re a traitor, that you abandoned him. But they don’t know you have cancer. I want to film a documentary series about you. Can I?” I shook my head. “Let them call me a traitor. I worked hard to build that reputation. Are you trying to ruin it for me?” “Wait!” He quickly grabbed my arm. “But you’re broke. Where will you get the money for treatment? Let me help you. I have some savings.” I turned my head and smiled. “What do you think was the reason I cut ties with my brother in the first place?” He hesitated. I pulled my arm free and waved him away. “I have a job. I don’t need your help. Just go.” “I asked around. You only make two thousand a month here.” “Still don’t need it.” I turned my back to him, then glanced over my shoulder with a defiant smile. “The heiress of the Chase family never needs anyone’s pity.” The moment the words left my lips, my knees buckled and I collapsed. “Lisa!” The camera shook violently. On the floor, a pool of blood was spreading. “You…!” Brain’s voice trembled. The camera was tossed aside, and a tall, lanky man rushed to help me up. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital!” Just as he was about to lift me, I pushed him away with all my strength. I grabbed a rag, wiped the floor, then smeared the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “I don’t need it.” Then I walked to the sink and washed the blood from my face. Brain’s voice was shaking. “Please, I’m begging you. Let me help you.” I cleaned the last trace of blood, turned around, and looked at him with fierce intensity. “The heiress of the Chase family never needs anyone’s help.” And with that, I walked out of the frame. 3 [AFTERLIFE — 11.15.2023, 3:21 PM — The Puppy Doesn’t Know He’s Dying, Only That He Finally Has a Home] “What do you mean?” At the vet’s office, I stared in shock. The vet sighed and shook his head. “His original owner probably abandoned him because they knew he wouldn’t make it. The poor thing has been starving, getting bullied by other strays… He’s already…” I managed a small smile. “I know. You’re going to say he doesn’t have much time left, right?” The vet hesitated, then nodded. It was the same look my own oncologist gave me. Brain frowned. “Is there really nothing we can do?” “…Just keep him comfortable. Good food, warm bed.” Silence filled the room. I stroked Shadow’s head. “No wonder the two of us found each other.” Shadow’s tail wagged furiously. He rubbed against me, his tongue lolling out, his bright black eyes fixed on me. Brain gave a bitter smile. “He thinks you’re his owner now.” I paused. “Is that something to be so happy about?” Brain nodded, stroking the dog’s head. “A puppy doesn’t know he’s going to die. He only knows that he finally has a home again.” I was silent for a long moment. I patted the dog’s head. “Alright then. I’ll call you Shadow.” Shadow let out a happy “Woof!” As we left the clinic, I turned to face the camera. “You’re the one who found him and brought him to me. As repayment, I’ll agree to let you film your series.” 4 [AFTERLIFE — 12.31.2023, 9:00 PM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 1] “Where did you get this?” I frowned, looking at the old videotape Brain had brought. He dangled it with a grin. “A good filmmaker has to fully understand his subject.” He popped the tape into a VCR. On the TV left behind by the last tenant, a girl with long hair in a pink dress appeared, bending down to look at the camera. Back then, my eyes still sparkled with hope. “Hello, hello! Happy New Year 2015! I wish everyone peace, joy, and all your dreams come true!” “You were so lively back then,” Brain said, sitting beside me, a smile in his eyes as he watched the video. I clutched a pillow, huddled on the tattered sofa in my tiny apartment, my head poking out from under a blanket. “Did you just dig up every video from all my old social media accounts?” “I found them interesting, so I brought them over.” I said nothing, watching my past self sit among piles of presents, a small tiara clipped in my hair. A familiar voice spoke. “Hold on, I’ll help you open them.” Matt walked into the frame and sat cross-legged beside me. I held up a hand in a “stop” gesture. “No! The Chase heiress is self-sufficient!” The camera cut, and now Matt was fastening a necklace around my neck. “Happy New Year, my little princess.” A camera flashed, capturing my huge, beaming smile. Laughter erupted as I smeared a dab of whipped cream on Matt’s nose. He froze for a second, then a grin spread across his face. “Stop messing around. Your hair is all tangled. Come here, let me brush it for you.” The video was filled with the sound of my happy laughter. Outside the screen, I found myself laughing along, a hollow echo of the past. I wiped the corner of my eye, my sigh trembling slightly. “After our parents died, everyone thought I was so pitiful. But I wasn’t. Not at all. I still had my brother, I still had my friends…” A cold draft swept through the leaky apartment. I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself, tears streaming silently down my face. A warm hand enveloped my own, which was red from the cold. Brain looked at me, his expression serious. “I’ve saved up some money. Let’s go to the hospital tomorrow. We can start your treatment.” I sniffled and laughed. “Your channel has less than a hundred followers, and you’re eating instant noodles with me every day. How much money could you possibly have?” His long, pale fingers clenched on his faded jeans. “It’s… something. It could help.” I shook my head stubbornly. “No. The Chase heiress never needs anyone’s help.” I lifted my chin at him proudly. “Don’t worry. My income is enough to cover my medication. See? I bought all of these with my salary.” I grabbed a handful of colorful pills and tossed them back, swallowing them in one gulp. I winced, remaining silent for a long moment before finally pressing a hand to my chest and letting out a long sigh of relief. When I looked up, Brain was watching me, the corners of his eyes tinged with red. I let out a small laugh. “Pretty impressive, right?” Brain looked down, a bitter smile on his lips. “Yeah.” 5 [AFTERLIFE — 12.31.2023, 11:45 PM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 2] On screen, after a meager meal, the two of us were leaning against the sofa, waiting for the New Year’s countdown. Brain glanced at me. “Is that all you’re going to eat?” I felt a wave of exhaustion. “My stomach hurts. Any more and I’ll just throw it up.” Brain was quiet for a moment before finally speaking. “Mr. Chase… he’s made it. His new project just broke a hundred million in revenue.” I closed my eyes. “I know.” “Go back to him, Lisa. He can get you the best treatment.” I shook my head. “Why not? Do you want to die like this?” “Did you really think I expected to live when I cut ties with him?” That shut him up. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice trembling slightly. “Why did you do it? Why not let him face this with you?” I laughed. “Our parents always taught us that the children of the Chase family never need help from anyone. And yet, our family supported a whole clan of relatives. But when my brother went bankrupt, not a single one of them was willing to help.” My breath hitched. I bit my lip before continuing. “Do you have any idea how it felt to watch my brother grovel in front of them, begging them just to pay for my tuition?” “My brother never begged anyone. After being rejected by every single one of our relatives, he took me to a tiny, one-room apartment, about the size of this one. He told me that he, alone, would bring us back to the life we once had. That’s the brother I admire. The one who, even with nothing, still had his pride and his ambition. “But…” I laughed and looked at Brain. “What do you think would happen if he knew I was sick?” Brain stared at me, speechless. “He would get on his knees and beg those relatives.” My voice trembled as I said it. “He almost did, just for my tuition money. I was lucky I was there to stop him. Ha…” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Before I left, he and his partner were just starting to get back on their feet. Can you imagine what would happen if his partner found out the family suddenly had a bottomless money pit to deal with? Would he still have invested?” Brain’s voice was strained. “Lisa…” I held up a hand to stop him. “Cancer might take my life, but half a million dollars would have taken his.” Brain’s fists clenched at his sides. I sighed, a sad smile on my face. “The day I left, I tore him to shreds. I called him every name in the book. At the end, he was holding my arm, crying, begging me to stay, promising things would get better soon, that he’d give us our old life back. You see him now, so polished and successful. You could never imagine how pathetic he looked then. Ha…” Brain’s voice was low. “How did he finally let you go?” I remembered it all too clearly. “I told him he was a failure. That his past success was just because of our parents. I said his pathetic state was a disgrace to their memory, and if he had any shred of brotherly love left, he would let me go find my own happiness. And then… he let go. Bit by bit.” The bells for the new year began to ring. Fireworks exploded outside the window. I raised a hand and wiped the tears from my face. 6 [AFTERLIFE — 01.01.2024, 12:00 AM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 3] Brain turned to look out the window. “Happy New Year, Lisa.” “Thanks.” “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy new year?” I looked up at him. “You’re asking a dying woman for a blessing?” His hand gently covered my own thin, frail one. “Please.” I watched the warm, golden fireworks burst outside the window, feeling as if I were bathed in their hopeful light. I smiled. “Then I wish you a long and happy life.” The hand on mine tightened, trembling slightly. Brain stared out the window, his expression hidden from view. The camera moved, and soon, we had both settled down for the night. But in the darkness, a figure slowly emerged. I leaned close to the camera, frowning. “Damn, forgot to turn it off.” I reached out to press the button, then paused. After a moment’s thought, I dragged a chair over and sat down in front of the lens, adjusting it left and right, a look of doubt in my eyes. “Will anyone ever really see this?” More fireworks lit up the sky, casting a warm, yellow glow on my face. I took a deep breath and gave the camera a small, gentle smile. “If anyone is watching… then I wish you all peace and joy, and long, happy lives.” I waved at the camera, and then pressed the button.

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My husband, Lawrence, sent his secretary to “assist” me with a business negotiation at a downtown restaurant. But at the dinner table, she deliberately made things difficult, goading the client into forcing me to drink. I cited a severe alcohol allergy and tried to leave, but she physically blocked my path. “Zoe, you’re just a trophy wife. When you’re told to drink, you drink. Cut the crap.” A small smile touched my lips. I tore the contract in half right there and then, and dialed my husband’s number. “Your secretary seems to think the Vance family doesn’t need me anymore. Is that right?” 01 “You think crying to the big boss is going to help you, you delicate little flower?” Before Lawrence could even speak, the secretary, Wendy, snatched the phone from my hand. “Let me make one thing clear,” she spat, her voice low and menacing. “You’re drinking this tonight, whether you want to or not.” I shot her a look that could freeze fire. “And if I don’t?” “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been threatened before. Congratulations on being the first.” The line was still open. Lawrence’s voice, tinny and annoyed, came through the speaker. “Zoe, can you stop making a scene? Wendy is doing this for the good of the company. Just listen to her.” I almost laughed out loud. Lawrence’s words were a bitter joke. Since when did I, Zoe Clarke, need a mere secretary telling me how to conduct business? Our client, a Mr. Davis, hadn’t even made his demands yet when Wendy proactively offered him a twenty-percent cut of our profits. Even then, he wasn’t satisfied. He insisted I had to down an entire bottle of top-shelf whiskey before he’d sign. Forget for a moment that my life-threatening allergy to alcohol was common knowledge at the company; the deal itself was rotten to the core. I was about to demand an explanation from Lawrence, but Wendy ended the call. “You heard him,” she said with a triumphant smirk. “Even your husband says to listen to me. What more fight have you got in you?” I slowly lifted my head, my voice devoid of all warmth. “He doesn’t get a say in this.” The moment the words left my mouth, Mr. Davis shot to his feet. “If I’m not mistaken, you must be Mr. Vance’s pretty little wife.” He raked his eyes over me, a sneer playing on his lips. “I can see now that some people just aren’t cut out for business.” “All I asked was for you to have a drink with me, and you tear up the contract?” he continued, his voice rising. “If your husband finds out about this, I bet he’ll divorce you on the spot.” Hearing this, a slow, knowing smile spread across my face. “You and Wendy are in this together, aren’t you, Mr. Davis?” A businessman’s greatest asset is keen observation. From the moment I walked in, I’d noticed the conspiratorial glances they exchanged. Wendy, the Chairman’s secretary, wasn’t fighting for her company’s interests. She was colluding with the other party to corner one of her own. It was becoming clear this whole dinner was a trap, and I was the target. Mr. Davis’s eyes darted away for a second before he regained his composure. “Of course not! I’m just calling it like I see it. Everyone at this table worked their asses off to get where they are. You’re the only one who’s just a pretty face.” His voice dripped with contempt. “As the client, I’m the one with the power here. I tell you to drink, you drink. Understood?” The table erupted in sycophantic laughter. My gaze swept across the room, cold and sharp. “Mr. Davis, I’ll admit I’ve stayed out of the public eye these past few years. But I’m not fond of the term ‘pretty face.’ I suggest you don’t use it again.” My eyes narrowed, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Because if I get angry… none of you will like the consequences.” At that, Wendy shot up from her seat. “Zoe, I’m standing right here! Who the hell do you think you’re trying to fool?” she snapped. “Others might not know your story, but I do! Lawrence told me everything. You only married into the Vance family because of some old promise between your parents. He never, ever wanted you.” I slowly squinted, my eyes fixed on her. “Oh, really? Is that what Lawrence told you?” Wendy nodded, her face alight with malicious glee. “Of course. He’s been wanting to divorce you for ages. You’re the one who’s been clinging to his family like a leech.” Her words hit me like a physical blow. For a moment, I couldn’t tell what was a lie and what was the horrifying truth. But one thing was certain: a mere secretary wouldn’t dare challenge me so openly without someone powerful backing her. I had to get to the bottom of this. I needed to go back to the office and confront Lawrence, face to face. But as I stood up, a heavy hand slammed me back down into my chair. “The party’s not over,” Wendy sneered. “Where do you think you’re going?” 02 I slowly tilted my head back, raising an eyebrow. “Where I go is my business. It’s certainly not for a little secretary to decide.” Wendy let out a short, sharp laugh, her eyes boring into me. “With me here, you’re not going anywhere.” I stared at her, genuinely baffled. Where did this woman get her audacity? “Wendy, consider this your official notice. You’re fired.” My declaration didn’t faze her in the slightest. If anything, it made her bolder. “You? Fire me? Do you even have that authority? You should take a good look at your own position before you start making empty threats.” I shoved her arm away and rose to my feet, my patience worn thin. “You’ve provoked me again and again, Wendy. Do you really think I’m that easy to push around?” The color drained from her face, and in a flash, she grabbed the collar of my dress. “You’re nothing but a dog the Vance family keeps on a leash, you bitch! How dare you raise your voice at me?” she shrieked. “Let me tell you something. No one in the entire Vance Corporation can fire me except Lawrence Vance himself!” If I hadn’t been sober, I would have sworn I was drunk and hearing things. I had never given a damn about the Vance family’s so-called power, and now a secretary was screaming in my face. It seemed my years of living a quiet life had made people forget who I really was. “Wendy, I’m warning you,” I said, my voice dangerously low as I fought to control my fury. “Let go of me right now. If you don’t, no one will be able to save you.” But some people are just too stubborn to listen. Her eyes were bloodshot, fixated on me. “Is that a threat? I’m the Executive Secretary to the Chairman of Vance Corp! Everyone in Auden City shows me respect. Who the hell do you think you are?” Before I could answer, the clients around the table chimed in with their flattery. “She’s right! Everyone in this city knows Vance Corp wouldn’t be where it is today without Wendy’s hard work.” “You’re only here because you married the boss. What’s so special about that?” “Yeah, and she gets mad when you call her a pretty face. Some people…” I finally understood. In their eyes, my position as a director was worth less than that of a secretary. I couldn’t fathom where they found the courage to be so brazen. Wendy basked in their praise, her chin held so high it was a wonder she didn’t trip. “Zoe, if I were you, I’d just drink the damn whiskey. It’ll save you a lot of trouble when you get home.” My gaze was glacial, my tone flat. “Wendy, I’m giving you one last warning. Do not test my limits. The very man you keep hiding behind, your precious Lawrence Vance, only has his position today because of me. The reasons for that are far beyond your comprehension.” I told them this hoping these so-called titans of industry would have the sense to back down. At this point, I was less interested in Wendy’s petty provocations and more focused on unmasking the puppet master behind this whole charade. And if my husband was part of it… well, things were about to get very interesting. I thought back to three years ago. The Vance family was a minor name, teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. One day, Lawrence’s father, Arthur Vance, came to me. His first words were a request for me to marry his son, claiming it was a pact our fathers had made before mine passed away—a childhood betrothal. I’ve always been a dutiful daughter. To honor my father’s last wish, I reluctantly agreed. On the surface, I was Mrs. Vance. In reality, I was the silent architect behind the family’s rise to power. But now, it seemed someone had grown wings and decided they were ready to fly solo, by kicking me out of the nest. Wendy glanced around the room and announced, “Did you all hear that? This little flower is claiming the Vance family rose to power because of her.” She let out a derisive laugh. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. The Vances are one of the most powerful families in Auden City, and you’re just a useless housewife who can’t do anything but clean.” She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with venom. “Let’s be honest. The family would probably be doing even better without you. They might have even made it into the big leagues in the Capital by now.” Hearing that, it all clicked into place. This dinner, these “business leaders”—they were all actors in a play she had staged. The goal was to force a divorce between me and Lawrence. Whoever was behind this had to have some serious influence. 03 Despite their relentless provocations, I didn’t lash out. I held back, time and again. These were, after all, influential figures in the business world, and I didn’t want to cause an ugly scene. But my restraint was met only with more derision. “Enough!” I slammed my hands on the table and stood, my eyes sweeping over every person in the room. “It’s clear this deal is dead. So now, I’m giving all of you a choice.” My voice was calm, but it cut through the noise. “The smart ones will get out of my sight right now. Anyone who stays becomes my enemy. And I show no mercy to my enemies.” The room erupted in laughter. “Did you hear her? The little bitch is giving us a choice! That’s rich.” “Zoe, you really think you’re somebody, don’t you?” “Every single person at this table is a millionaire many times over. What are you going to fight us with?” I turned my head slowly, the fire in my chest burning hotter. “Have any of you ever heard the saying, ‘There are always bigger fish in the sea’?” I warned. “I suggest you choose very carefully. You don’t want to live with the regret.” Wendy’s face twisted into a sneer. “What was that? You don’t actually think we’re afraid of you, do you?” She jabbed a finger in my direction. “Don’t think you can throw your weight around just because you’re married to Lawrence Vance. You probably don’t even know, but he’s about to divorce you!” Her words were like a signal. The other businessmen visibly relaxed, their mockery growing louder and more vicious. I looked at their laughing faces, a profound sense of disappointment washing over me. Was this the best Auden City’s business community had to offer? All this, just because I couldn’t drink. They could call me a trophy wife, a delicate flower—I didn’t care. But to be unable to command respect from someone in my own company… was this the price of my quiet life? Because of my unique circumstances, I had spent the last few years at home, avoiding the public eye. On the rare occasions I overheard staff gossiping about me, I would just smile and walk away. I never imagined that my placid demeanor would become the very thing that emboldened them to act so outrageously. Seeing my silence, Wendy seemed to think I had finally broken. She slid a tray of ten shot glasses filled with whiskey in front of me. “Here you go, Zoe. Drink all ten of these, and you can leave,” she said, her voice cloying. “We’ll call it even, and you can go back to being a pretty ornament in your gilded cage. But if you refuse… well, you’re not walking out of this room tonight.” I fought back the urge to scream, my gaze locked on her. “You are truly asking for a death wish. Do you not understand that I am allergic to alcohol?” Wendy glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, her expression one of pure disdain. “A few shots won’t kill you. I’ve laid out my terms. Drink or don’t. The choice is yours.” Her words were so absurd I almost laughed. Not even Lawrence’s father would dare speak to me like that. Where on earth did a mere secretary find such nerve? My curiosity about the power behind her grew. “Wendy, I see there’s no point in talking to you anymore,” I said, my voice turning hard as steel. “Tell the person pulling your strings to come out. What kind of coward hides in the shadows and sends a puppet to do their dirty work? Or are they too afraid to face me themselves?” The second I finished speaking, the suite door swung open. A woman, about my age, walked in with a slow, deliberate grace. “Miss Clarke,” she said, a cool smile on her face. “It seems the rumors of your stupidity were greatly exaggerated.” 04 “Ms. Lowell! What are you doing here?” Wendy’s exclamation was met with a flurry of activity as everyone scrambled to their feet to greet the newcomer, a woman of obvious importance from the Capital. “So, you must be the power behind the secretary,” I said, my voice even. The woman, whom they called Ms. Lowell, ignored the others and sat down directly across from me. “You’re quick,” she acknowledged. “Yes, I’m Wendy’s boss. My name is Victoria Lowell. You can call me Victoria. If the Vance family wants to make it in the Capital, they can’t do it without my support.” Her tone was breathtakingly arrogant, even more so than Wendy’s. I gave her a single, cold glance before looking away. “You’re here for my husband, I presume.” Victoria nodded, a look of faux pity on her face. “Zoe, from what I hear, you’ve been married to Lawrence for three years and you’ve barely even held his hand. What a terrible waste.” A smirk played on her lips. “After today, your husband will belong to my family.” Her words elicited no reaction from me. Instead, a sense of relief washed over me, and I let out a soft laugh. “Oh, is that so? Then I understand.” I waved a dismissive hand. “If you want my husband so badly, you can have him.” My nonchalance clearly surprised her. “Aren’t you even a little bit angry?” “Why would I be angry about this?” I replied with a breezy smile. “In fact, I should thank you, Victoria. If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have known how to break the news to the family. But I should warn you… it doesn’t matter who you are. Crossing me ends badly for everyone.” Victoria, perhaps unaccustomed to someone being more imperious than she was, flushed with anger. Her face turned a shade of green as she waved a hand dismissively. “Wendy, what are you waiting for? Do it!” Before I could react, Wendy snatched a heavy whiskey bottle from the table and brought it crashing down on my head. The world exploded in a shower of pain and glass. I crumpled to the floor, stunned. Eager to impress her new boss, Wendy lunged at me, her fists and feet a brutal storm of violence. Within moments, my body was a canvas of bruises and cuts. “That’s enough,” Victoria’s voice cut through the haze of pain. “Don’t kill her.” She walked over and crouched down beside me. “You little bitch,” she whispered, her voice a venomous hiss. “Let today’s beating be a lesson to you. Stay out of my sight from now on. If I ever see you again, I’ll show you what real pain is.” I forced myself up, pushing through the agony to meet her gaze. My voice was steady, my dignity intact. “The Lowell family from the Capital… is this all you amount to?” Victoria’s face went black with rage. This time, she grabbed a heavy wooden chair herself, raising it high. Just as she was about to bring it down, the suite door was thrown open again. Everyone in the room turned in unison. “Mr. Vance! You’re here too!”

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1 “Jackson, if you want to divorce Freya, you will forfeit everything—the trust, the shares. You will leave with nothing.” “Fine.” “You will also relinquish all rights to the child and are never to see them again. Can you accept that?” “I accept.” Jackson Vance’s voice was resolute, devoid of emotion. “Mrs. Burrows, the contract has expired. Freya and the boy have someone to look after them now. It’s time for me to go.” Silence lingered on the other end of the line before Freya’s mother sighed, a long, weary sound. “If you’re so determined to leave, then as we agreed, I’ll arrange for you to study music at the Vienna Conservatory. The paperwork will take a week.” “As for the divorce… you can tell Freya yourself.” “Thank you, ma’am.” After hanging up, Jackson quietly pulled out a photograph. In the picture, Freya Burrows’s face was alight with a blissful, radiant smile. Their son, Leo, was beside her, waving a toy in a blur of happy motion. The cruel irony was that the man in the photo with them wasn’t Jackson. It was Freya’s childhood sweetheart, Sebastian Cole. … Sebastian and Freya were heirs to powerful families, inseparable from childhood and each other’s first love. But at twenty, Sebastian went abroad for an arranged marriage with another woman. When Freya found out, she nearly lost her mind, spending her days lost in a haze of tears and grief. Desperate to save her daughter, Mrs. Burrows found Jackson, a brilliant Juilliard student in desperate need of money. For half a million dollars, she bought ten years of his life to pull Freya back from the brink. From that day on, a relentless suitor appeared at Freya’s side. He was not only strikingly handsome but a gifted musician, full of talent and life. When Freya’s spirits fell, he would appear as if from nowhere to play a soothing melody for her. When she was ill, he would keep a sleepless vigil by her bedside, his care absolute. Slowly, she grew accustomed to having this male nurse, this shadow, but she never agreed to his advances. Until one night, at a high-stakes business dinner. A rival heir challenged the table to a drinking contest, with a massive international project on the line. To secure the deal for Freya, Jackson drank himself into the hospital with a bleeding ulcer. That was the first time Freya ever cried for him. “Jackson,” she had whispered at his bedside, “I’ll marry you. I believe we can make this work…” Only later did Jackson learn that day was also the day of Sebastian’s grand wedding, and photos of him kissing his new bride were circulating throughout their entire social circle. The truth didn’t break Jackson’s spirit. Instead, he fulfilled his contract with even more diligence, marrying into the Burrows family. For eight years, he was a devoted husband. He and Freya had their son, Leo, who took the Burrows family name. Jackson thought their quiet life might last forever, but then Sebastian’s family business collapsed. He divorced his wife and returned home. The day he landed, Freya raced to the airport at a hundred and twenty miles an hour. She threw him the most extravagant welcome-home party and gifted him a million-dollar watch and a luxury sports car. Their old flame was quickly rekindled, their contact becoming more and more frequent. To push Jackson out faster, Sebastian deliberately got close to Leo, poisoning the boy’s mind with whispers about his father. Soon, his once-proud son was affectionately calling another man “Dad.” His wife, a woman who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen, began baking Sebastian his favorite pastries from scratch. Jackson understood. There was no place left for him in this home. But none of it mattered anymore. In one week, he would be free from this gilded cage that had held him for a decade. He would finally pursue his own dreams, his music. Jackson drafted the divorce papers and waited quietly for his wife and son to return. Half an hour later, the front door of the villa opened. 2 At the sound, Jackson moved automatically, lining up their slippers by the door and taking their coats, just as he always did. He had timed dinner perfectly, ensuring the food would be hot and ready the moment they walked in. “It’s getting cold out. I made some chicken soup. You and Leo should have some while it’s warm.” “We already ate. I was catching up with Sebastian,” Freya said dismissively, her eyes glued to her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen. Beside her, Leo scowled. “Soup again? I told you I wanted fried chicken!” “Leo, fried chicken isn’t healthy…” “I don’t care! Sebastian bought me fried chicken! You just don’t want to make it for me.” Leo threw the chopsticks Jackson offered him onto the floor. “No wonder everyone says you’re useless! You have no money and no skills! You can’t even make fried chicken!” “You’re not even half the man Sebastian is! Hmph!” The childish, venomous words were like steel needles piercing Jackson’s heart, a cold sickness spreading through him. He couldn’t imagine what poison Sebastian had been feeding the boy to make him so ungrateful. Jackson slowly looked to Freya, but her reaction was even more chilling. “He’s just a child, Jackson. Don’t take it to heart.” She glanced up for a second, her tone flat. “Leo, don’t talk to your father like that.” “I will!” Leo made a face and ran upstairs. “He doesn’t even dare to talk back. He really is a useless loser…” And just like that, everything returned to normal. The vast living room fell into a dead silence, the crystal chandelier hanging precariously above. Jackson sank onto the sofa and sat there for a long time before finally pulling the divorce agreement from beneath the coffee table. Freya was still staring at her phone, but now her frown had smoothed into a look of pure, relaxed contentment. It was obvious she was texting Sebastian. That genuine joy was something he hadn’t seen on her face in their entire marriage. Jackson let out a self-mocking laugh and placed the papers on the table. It didn’t matter. Once she signed, he and Freya would be finished, completely and utterly free. “Freya,” he said, his voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “Let’s get a divorce. I’ll leave with nothing.” “Mm-hmm,” she grunted, her eyes fixed on the screen. “Leo will stay with you. We’ll never see each other again. If that’s all good, just sign here.” “Okay.” He was used to her distracted replies; it was the soundtrack to the last decade of his life. But now, with Sebastian back in the picture, she couldn’t even be bothered to pretend. Jackson slid the pen and paper towards her. Without hesitation, she scribbled her name, only to pause at the final stroke. He glanced over and saw her smiling foolishly at her phone. “Freya, did you hear a word I just said?” “Hmm?” She looked up, annoyed, and quickly finished her signature without a second glance at the document. “Isn’t it just about that charity event again? From now on, you can just sign for those things yourself.” With that, she stood up and went to her room, closing the door firmly behind her. Watching her leave, Jackson’s mouth twitched into a bitter line. She hadn’t heard him. She hadn’t cared at all. Ten years of his life, ten years of devotion, and in the end, it amounted to nothing more than his wife’s indifference and his son’s contempt. But it was almost over. Just seven more days, and he would be gone for good. His wife, his son, and this thing they called a home. He didn’t want any of it anymore. 3 The next morning was cold, the first real bite of autumn in the air. When Jackson woke, Freya’s side of the bed was already empty. He fixed himself a quick breakfast and then headed to St. Jude’s Hospital. He walked into the patient room, and the elderly woman lying in bed immediately sat up, her wrinkled face breaking into a joyful smile. “Jackson… what are you doing here?” “Director Miller, I came to say goodbye.” Jackson handed the old woman an envelope containing the final hundred thousand dollars from his contract payout. “I’m going abroad to study music soon. This is the last of the money for the orphanage.” “Oh, you dear boy… more money?” The director was so moved she began to cry. She had found Jackson at five years old and raised him in the orphanage. He had earned a scholarship to Juilliard on his own merit and was on the verge of a brilliant career abroad when a sudden illness left her in desperate need of a half-million-dollar surgery. To repay her kindness, Jackson had sold ten years of his life. The money had paid for her surgery, and the rest had helped rebuild the orphanage. She didn’t know how she could ever thank him. “Please, don’t worry about it, Director. Once I finish my studies, money won’t be an issue anymore.” “You’re right, of course. Going abroad is a wonderful opportunity. I’m so happy for you.” Then, a thought struck her. “But if you go overseas, won’t it be difficult to see your wife and son?” “It’s better if I don’t see them. Less trouble that way,” Jackson said with a hollow laugh. “I… I’m divorced.” The director stared at him for a moment, then pulled him into a tight embrace, stroking his head. “Good,” she murmured. “It’s for the best. You’ve suffered enough all these years. From now on, you have to be good to yourself.” “I will be, Director. I promise.” … After leaving the hospital, Jackson went back to the villa to pack. He had tied up his last loose end. He could leave the Burrows family with a clear conscience. It only took a few hours to pack up his life. He also boxed up everything related to Freya and Leo. The scarf he had knitted to please her, the baby bottles left over from Leo’s infancy… For ten years, he had poured his heart and soul into this family. Even without the contract, he had wanted a warm home to call his own. But it had all been a fantasy. Jackson took one last look at the boxes, then carried them out to the trash cans by the gate. Just then, a Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb. Leo jumped out of the car first. Seeing Jackson by the trash, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What are you doing, digging through the garbage? Have you no shame?” “Is dinner ready yet? I want fried chicken!” Looking at the boy he had raised for six years, Jackson’s heart twisted, but the pain was quickly overshadowed by a surge of cold anger. “If you want fried chicken, go ask your Uncle Sebastian.” “You…” Leo’s face was a mask of shock. It was the first time Jackson had ever spoken to him like that. At that moment, Freya and Sebastian walked up. “Jackson, Sebastian’s house is undergoing some renovations. He’ll need to stay with us for a few days. I trust that’s not a problem?” This was the first time Jackson had seen Sebastian up close. He had a naturally refined, almost delicate beauty that years of marriage hadn’t touched. It was no wonder Freya was still so captivated by him. In contrast, Jackson, who had once been just as young and handsome, was now worn down by years of thankless labor. Leo seized the opportunity. “Hurry up and help Uncle Sebastian with his luggage! Didn’t you hear me, you bad daddy? If you don’t, I won’t like you anymore!” Jackson looked from Freya to Sebastian. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice flat. “I just pulled a muscle in my back. I can’t lift anything.” At his words, a flash of coldness crossed Sebastian’s eyes, but he quickly masked it with a look of pained reluctance. “Oh, then… perhaps we should forget it. It seems Mr. Vance isn’t too happy about this. My apologies…” He turned as if to leave, but Freya grabbed his arm. “Don’t be silly. I’ll help you with your bags. You’re staying here. He won’t have a problem with it.” Jackson watched the scene unfold with a quiet, bitter amusement. “That’s right,” he said. “You can have our room. I won’t have a problem with it at all.” What did it matter anymore? Judging by Freya’s attitude, this house would belong to Sebastian soon enough anyway. 4 Freya immediately rushed to help with the luggage, afraid that if she delayed for even a second, Sebastian would change his mind. Leo, playing the part of the dutiful son, trotted over to grab a smaller bag. The three of them, laughing and talking as they supported each other, looked like a perfect little family returning from vacation. “What are you still standing there for? Go make dinner!” Leo demanded. “I want fried chicken, and Mom and Uncle Sebastian want seafood to… you know, build up their strength.” Treating Jackson like a personal chef had become the norm in this house. For years, he had been their live-in butler, catering not only to Freya’s demanding palate but also designing perfectly balanced, nutritious meals for Leo. They had never had to lift a finger. This time, however, Jackson’s reply was unexpected. “I can’t.” Freya stared at him, stunned. In her memory, this was the first time he had ever refused to do something she asked. Before she could react, Sebastian put on a wounded expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’m just an outsider, after all. I don’t deserve to have Mr. Vance cook for me.” He picked up his bags, turned around, and put them back in the trunk, slamming it shut. “This has nothing to do with you,” Freya snapped, her brow furrowing as she shot Jackson a dark look. “You said you didn’t have a problem with this. What game are you playing now?” Jackson’s answer was calm. “There’s no food in the refrigerator. I can’t cook.” He was leaving, so he hadn’t gone grocery shopping. Besides, he had no intention of cooking for them anyway. It was a convenient excuse. After ten years of swallowing his pride, he refused to back down again. At his words, Leo threw a full-blown tantrum on the lawn. “I knew it! You’re the most useless dad in the world! You didn’t even buy groceries! Are you trying to starve us? Waaah!” “You’re not my dad! I want Sebastian to be my dad!” Seeing this, a flicker of triumph crossed Sebastian’s eyes, quickly replaced by a mask of false sincerity. “Leo, you shouldn’t talk to your father like that. It’s very rude.” “I’m sorry, Uncle Sebastian. I’ll be more careful.” “Well, since there’s no food here,” Sebastian said smoothly, “why don’t we go to that steakhouse we passed on the way? I’ll even order you your own plate of fried chicken.” “Yay! Uncle Sebastian, you’re the best!” Leo hugged Sebastian’s leg, and Freya watched them with a doting smile. The scene was sickeningly sweet. The three of them piled into the back seat of the car, and Freya told Jackson to drive so that Sebastian could rest. The entire way, Sebastian played games and chatted with Freya and Leo in the back, their laughter filling the car. They treated Jackson like he was nothing but air. “Mr. Vance,” Sebastian called out, his voice loud enough to make sure he was heard. “Freya and I are just catching up. I hope you don’t mind.” He added, with deliberate condescension, “We wouldn’t want to bore you with things you wouldn’t understand.” Jackson just grunted, his eyes fixed on the road. He didn’t need to know, and he didn’t want to know. None of it mattered to him anymore. … Half an hour later, they were seated at a table. Freya took the menu and began ordering for them. “Sebastian likes the filet, medium-rare, and no black pepper…” After a decade, she still remembered Sebastian’s every preference. Then, for the first time in ten years, she asked Jackson what he wanted. “Jackson, what cut would you like?” “I don’t eat steak,” he replied flatly, surprising her. In ten years of marriage, he knew every detail of her life, but this was the first she had ever learned about his. “You guys enjoy your meal. I’m leaving.” He had brought them here. He had no desire to stay and be tortured further. None of the three of them tried to stop him. They simply watched in silent agreement as he walked out of the restaurant. A few minutes later, Jackson realized he still had the car keys. He turned around and headed back. He hadn’t even reached the door when he heard exclamations from inside. “Isn’t that Ms. Burrows? What a beautiful family you have.” “And this handsome gentleman must be your husband. No wonder you keep him hidden away; you must be afraid someone will steal him!” 5 Although Sebastian had been abroad for years and was largely forgotten in their social circles, his elegant demeanor and refined speech quickly captured the attention of the gossiping crowd. Everyone was charmed by him. “Ms. Burrows and Mr. Cole are such a perfect couple. How long have you been married? Your son is already so big!” Freya blushed slightly but didn’t deny it. Leo, meanwhile, played his part perfectly, calling Sebastian “Dad” over and over again. Watching the scene unfold, Jackson felt a brief stab of pain, but it quickly faded into a calm numbness. What was there to be angry about? He was just a toy Mrs. Burrows had bought to appease her daughter, a tool used to produce a Burrows heir. The contract was ending, the transaction was complete. None of this had anything to do with him anymore. Inside the restaurant, Sebastian caught a glimpse of Jackson through the window. He deliberately speared a piece of steak and held it gently to Freya’s lips. “Freya, thank you so much for helping me move today. You must be exhausted.” “It was nothing. Your business is my business,” she replied with a small smile, opening her mouth to accept the bite. Sebastian leaned in closer, their faces nearly touching, the gesture charged with intimacy. The onlookers started to cheer. “This is so sweet! Am I watching a romance movie?” “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Leo joined in with a mischievous grin. “Mom, hurry up and kiss! I can’t wait!” “We’re in public! Behave yourself!” Freya’s cheeks were flushed as she whispered a soft reprimand. This only excited Sebastian more. He cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips to hers. She hesitated for a moment, but as he deepened the kiss, she surrendered, slowly closing her eyes to enjoy it. Watching her feigned shyness from outside, Jackson let out a cold, silent laugh. So, the great ice queen CEO wasn’t always so cold and distant. She was just cold and distant to him. He had no desire to be nauseated any further. He handed the keys to a waiter and left without another word. “Ms. Burrows,” the waiter said, approaching their table. “A gentleman just dropped off these car keys for you.” The two of them were still nestled close together, their faces glowing with happiness. At the waiter’s words, Freya’s head snapped towards the door. “What? Was Jackson just here?” Seeing her apparent concern, Sebastian felt a prick of annoyance. He feigned surprise. “Oh no, this is bad. We were just joking around. I hope Mr. Vance didn’t see and get the wrong idea.” “Don’t worry about him, Uncle Sebastian,” Leo piped up, his mouth full. “He’s just our butler.” “Besides, you and Mom used to date. What’s wrong with a little kiss?” “Leo, don’t talk nonsense,” Freya said, her expression shifting as she cut her son off. She quickly gathered her purse and rushed outside. On the cold, empty sidewalk, Freya ran to catch up with Jackson just as he was about to hail a cab. 6 The moment their eyes met, she held her breath, bracing herself for an angry tirade. But they stood there in a long, tense silence, his face as calm and still as a stagnant pool of water. “Don’t misunderstand what happened back there,” she finally said. “Sebastian and I were just joking around. It didn’t mean anything.” When he still didn’t react, a flicker of anger ignited in her. “Are you blaming me? What was I supposed to do with everyone cheering us on?” “I’m not blaming you,” he said, his frankness terrifying. “Is there anything else?” Freya shook her head, stunned into silence as she watched him get into a taxi and drive away. For some reason, a strange, unsettling feeling crept into her heart. When had Jackson become so… tolerant? Sebastian had already followed her out. Without another thought, she went back into the restaurant to finish her meal. … Night fell, and the trio returned to the villa, their laughter echoing in the grand foyer. Freya immediately started preparing bedding and toiletries for Sebastian, but having never done a single chore, she had no idea where anything was. Though she felt a pang of guilt, she ended up calling Jackson to do it. Jackson silently retrieved the items, then returned to his study and shut the door. Sebastian clenched the towel in his hand and sighed dramatically. “It seems Mr. Vance is still hostile towards me. Maybe I should just check into a hotel tomorrow.” “A hotel isn’t as comfortable as a villa,” Freya said, her expression complicated. “He’s been acting a little strange today. Don’t mind him.” Leo immediately grabbed Sebastian’s hand. “Uncle Sebastian, my dad took the study. You can sleep in the master bedroom with us tonight!” “I don’t think that’s a good idea…” “Don’t be silly, you’re our guest! We can’t let you sleep on the sofa!” “Alright, then.” After Sebastian reluctantly accepted the invitation, Jackson’s phone buzzed with a new message less than half an hour later. [Mr. Vance, mind if I borrow your razor?] The message was accompanied by a photo. It showed not only the razor but also Freya and Leo playing a board game with Sebastian on the master bed in the background. [It’s used. If you don’t mind my germs, go ahead.] Jackson replied without a second thought, then switched his phone to silent and fell into a deep sleep. … Two days flew by. Only four days remained until the divorce was finalized. Jackson had already purchased the instruments he would need for his studies and was practicing in his room. But the constant noise from downstairs was a grating distraction. He went down to find Sebastian and Leo roughhousing. “Uncle Sebastian, I want to play cats and fish! Can you get that fishbowl down for me?” “Hold on,” Jackson said, stepping in front of them. “You can’t play with the fish. Pick something else.” Leo had a history with that fishbowl. Every time, he would torture the small fish until they were half-dead, leaving Jackson to clean up the mess. Jackson had tried many times to teach him to respect life, but his efforts were always met with curses and resentment. He was trying to stop it this time to save the fish he had so carefully raised. “You… you just don’t want me to have any fun!” Leo snarled. Sebastian seized the opportunity. “Jackson, how much can a few fish be worth? You shouldn’t crush the boy’s spirit.” “The fish aren’t worth much. I’m just trying to teach him to be kind.” “And how much is ‘kindness’ worth?” Sebastian sneered, poking Jackson in the shoulder. “You’re so kind, but could you even keep your own wife? Your own family?” Sebastian was a man who never let a slight go. He was still fuming from their confrontation the other night and was eager to humiliate Jackson. “I only protect what’s important to me,” Jackson said, calmly placing the fishbowl back on its high shelf. “What you’re talking about isn’t as important as these fish.” “Then you can have them.” “You…?” Sebastian was flushed with anger. “Talk tough all you want. I don’t believe you have no feelings for the woman you’ve been married to for ten years. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of here before I make you.” This time, Jackson didn’t even bother to reply. He simply turned and walked away. A vicious glint appeared in Sebastian’s eyes. He lunged forward and snatched the fishbowl from the shelf. Jackson reacted instantly, his hand shooting out to grab the edge of the bowl. As they struggled, the glass slipped from their grasp and crashed to the floor. CRASH! Shards of glass flew everywhere, the sharp edges instantly slicing through their skin. At that exact moment, Freya was coming down the stairs.

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The board meeting ended, and I checked my phone. My long-dead college group chat was exploding with notifications—all tagging me. “Thomas, Lary’s getting married today and you’re not coming? Who do you think you are?” That’s how I learned Lary, our old class president, was getting married. Today. Everyone was there—except me. “Busy with work,” I replied, a polite excuse for people I barely knew. “Busy with what? That dead-end job? Lucky if you make two grand a month.” “Just admit you’re scared of being embarrassed.” The moment I responded, the attacks poured in. “Afraid I just want your wedding gift?” Lary tagged me. “Wouldn’t want your hundred bucks—probably a week’s pay for you.” His sarcasm was thick. “Besides, the girl you chased and never got? She’s my wife now. No wonder you won’t come.” He added sunglasses emojis. I frowned. “As I recall, I never chased anyone.” “Convenient amnesia?” Lary shot back, posting a wedding photo. “Take a good look.” My breath caught. The bride in white was identical to the woman in the engagement photo on my desk. “Isabella?” 1 I shot upright in my chair. The woman I got engaged to last month was marrying Lary? As my mind reeled, the group chat continued its relentless assault. “Cat got your tongue? Struck dumb? Or are you crying in a corner because you saw your dream girl is now Lary’s wife?” “Shhh! Don’t expose him! Isabella isn’t just the campus queen anymore, she’s the CEO of Apex Holdings!” “That’s right! And she gave Lary a downtown penthouse and a Rolls-Royce as a wedding gift.” I stared, dumbfounded. Just as I was about to type a furious question to Lary, he played the part of the magnanimous hero. “Thomas, I know you haven’t done well for yourself, but we were classmates. If you show up to my wedding, I could probably convince my wife to get you a job as a security guard in the parking garage.” “What do you say? A guard at Apex Holdings has to make at least five grand a month. Way better than your current gig, right?” “Sure,” I typed. Then I shut off my phone. “Honey, I brought you some restorative ginseng chicken soup.” “You’ve been working so much overtime lately. Don’t burn yourself out. Have some soup, it’ll help.” Isabella placed the porcelain tureen on my desk. She noticed my cold stare and looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?” My face was a mask. I glanced at the soup, then shook my head. “It’s nothing. You can go. I have some things to handle.” “Alright, but make sure you rest. Don’t push yourself too hard.” She walked over, leaned in, and brushed a light kiss against my cheek. “Oh, by the way, honey, I need to visit family out of town for a few days. Just some family matters to take care of.” With a brilliant smile, she left my office, pulling the door closed behind her. “CEO of Apex Holdings, huh?” I watched the door shut, my mind sinking into a deep, cold place. I’d known Isabella for three years. We’d made it official a year ago, and gotten engaged just last month. Over the past year, she had cared for me with a devotion that felt absolute. Hot towels and massages when I worked late. My suitcase perfectly packed for business trips. The memories were a collection of exquisitely tender moments. But now, that tureen of soup and our engagement photo on my desk felt like props in a cruel joke, and I was the fool at the center of it. I snatched my phone, scrolling furiously through the chat history until I found the wedding venue Lary had posted. I called my driver. We were going. Even from a block away, the hotel Lary had booked was impossible to miss. A massive, ostentatious banner was stretched across the entrance. “Congratulations to Isabella, CEO of Apex Holdings, on Her Wedding Day!” Beneath it, Lary stood, resplendent in a sharp suit, his hair slicked back, eagerly awaiting his bride. He was surrounded by a fawning crowd of our old classmates. “Lary, my man! You’re the real success story of our class. The CEO of Apex… and you locked her down! You’re a legend!” “Seriously, man, you kept this quiet! You wait until the wedding day to tell us?” “Lary, with your talent, it’s only a matter of time before Apex Holdings is yours. Don’t forget us old friends when you’re at the top!” I even saw our old college advisor, his face beaming, sucking up to Lary. “Lary, from the day you set foot on campus, I knew you were the one to be class president. My eye for talent is never wrong. Look at you now, the most successful of them all!” The chorus of ass-kissing was so thick it made me sick. Lary, however, was soaking it in, his grin so wide it nearly split his face. “Not at all, not at all. It’s all thanks to your guidance, sir.” As Lary lapped up the praise, my car pulled closer. Through the tinted window, watching their pathetic display, my mind drifted back to the first time I met Isabella. We weren’t together then. She was just an intern at the company, completely lost in the cutthroat corporate world. She spent her days being bullied by senior employees, either forcing a smile or getting chewed out. I couldn’t stand to watch it. We were the same age and had gone to the same school, so I stepped in and had her transferred to my office as my secretary. To be honest, her professional skills were lacking, but her attitude was excellent, and she never made any major mistakes. Over time, she grew more competent, and I started entrusting her with more significant parts of the business. I never imagined she’d relay every single detail to Lary. Or that he would use those trade secrets as his own personal bragging rights. The thought sparked a fresh wave of anger, sharp and painful, laced with a profound sadness. “Well, well, if it isn’t Thomas. Had to rent a fancy car just to show up?” “This is Lary’s wedding, man. Who are you trying to impress? Don’t you have any shame?” The moment I stepped out of the Panamera, a couple of Lary’s sycophants broke away from the group, their voices dripping with disdain. Once they started, the others noticed me and joined the chorus of ridicule. “Thomas, seriously. A day’s rental on this thing must be three months’ salary for you. Why bother?” “So what if Lary snagged your dream girl? Do you have to be so petty about it?” “Thomas, we were all classmates, so don’t take this the wrong way, but you picked the wrong audience to flex on. Lary’s wife is the CEO of Apex!” The subtext was clear: I was an idiot who couldn’t read the room. My face hardened. As I was about to speak, Lary pushed through the crowd, his face a smug mask. “Where’d you rent this car? It looks a lot like my wife’s.” He squinted. “Wait a minute… why are the license plates the same?” The realization dawned on him. His expression twisted into a snarl, and his fist flew towards my face. “Thomas, you son of a bitch! You’ve been sleeping with my wife!” 2 “So that’s why Bella was always ‘working late’ and never coming home! It was because of you!” “You’re a real piece of work. You have the nerve to show up at our wedding, in her car, with her driver?” Lary’s rage escalated with every word. His punch had left me stunned, my mind struggling to catch up. This has always been my car, my primary vehicle for business. I often lent it to Isabella for work. When did it become hers? “Lary, man, calm down. Bella doesn’t seem like that kind of person, right? Maybe you’re mistaken?” a few classmates tried to intervene, looking awkward. “Mistaken? I’d recognize this car if it was a pile of burnt scrap metal!” Lary snarled, whipping out his phone and shoving his photo album in everyone’s faces. They were private, intimate photos of him and Isabella. The two of them locked in a passionate kiss in the driver’s seat. Lary holding Isabella in his arms as they posed on the hood of the car. I even saw a few that were far more compromising. The license plate, the specific details of the car—it was undeniable. Isabella had been using my car to carry on an affair with Lary. In an instant, the onlookers were no longer bystanders. They were a mob, and I was their target. “Thomas. Care to explain?” “I knew there was something off about you from the start. I just didn’t realize you were rotten to the core. You’d really stoop so low as to seduce your friend’s wife?” Lary was completely unhinged now, jabbing a finger in my face. “I knew it! That’s why you didn’t want to come to the wedding! You were afraid of being exposed!” “You just couldn’t stand to see me happy, could you? You had to come here and ruin everything!” Even my old college advisor glared at me with disgust. “Thomas, I am ashamed that our school produced someone like you.” The insults rained down on me. Someone raised their phone, recording me while spewing obscenities. I let out a cold, humorless laugh, picking up my glasses which had been knocked to the ground. “Twisting the facts, ignoring the truth. Lary, is this who you really are?” “Go to hell! I’m the one who’s ignoring the truth? You’re sleeping with my wife and you have the nerve to say that? Have you no shame?” he spat. “Fine. You want to act tough? You want to roll up in my wife’s car just to humiliate me?” Lary sneered, then pulled out his keys and carved three words into the hood of my Panamera. “FUCKING SCUMBAG.” The gouged letters seared my eyes and heart. My voice dropped to an icy whisper. “Are you sure you can afford the price of carving those words?” Lary let out a bark of laughter. “Still talking tough? Who the hell do you think you’re fooling?” “You stole my woman! Keying your car is getting off easy!” “You should be thanking me for not tearing that filthy mouth off your face!” With that, he raised his keys and charged at me, a wild look in his eyes, as if he fully intended to rip my lips from my skull. The crowd didn’t stop him. In fact, they closed in around me, forming a human wall to ensure every one of Lary’s blows landed. When he was done hitting me, his rage still wasn’t spent. He grabbed a loose brick from a nearby planter and started smashing my car, shattering windows, denting panels, inside and out. His lackeys, my so-called “old classmates,” eagerly joined in, their cheers mingling with the sound of destruction. “This loser Thomas thinks he can mess with Lary? Our future tycoon? Not on our watch!” After the car was wrecked and the beating was over, my face and clothes were soaked in a mixture of sweat and their spit. The evening wind was sharp, chilling my skin, but it was nothing compared to the ice in my heart. “A car is just a car. It can be replaced,” I said, my voice raspy. “But when the bill comes, I hope you can pay it with the same ferocity you used to smash it.” “Pah!” Lary spat a thick glob of phlegm onto my collar. “Who do you think you are? Talking like the car is actually yours.” As he spoke, his eyes fell on the jade locket I wore around my neck. “The hell is this? You trying to look classy with a piece of jade?” “How much did you pay for this piece of junk at a flea market?” A cold dread seized me. That locket was the last thing my mother left me. Its sentimental value was immeasurable. He couldn’t break it. My instinctive flinch to protect it only spurred him on. He kicked me squarely in the chest, sending me sprawling to the ground. “Whoa, this actually feels… nice. Doesn’t seem like junk after all,” Lary mused, bending down and ripping the locket from my neck. “If you touch that, I swear I will make you regret the day you were born!” I roared, my eyes bloodshot, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles cracked. “Threatening me? You?” Lary rolled his eyes and brought his foot down, crushing the jade locket into dust. “See this?” he said, holding up his hand and waggling a large, ornate ring on his finger. “This ring is what Bella gave me. This is the real deal!” I recognized it instantly. It was the engagement ring I had given Isabella. The air was punched from my lungs. I was speechless. She had given the symbol of my love for her… to him? Though my heart had already hardened against her, this final, cruel twist was a physical blow. I never imagined her feelings for Lary ran so deep. In her eyes, was I nothing more than an ATM? Seeing my look of utter devastation, the crowd around Lary erupted in laughter. “Look at this idiot. He had no idea his girl would drop a million-dollar ring on another man, did he?” “What’s wrong? Your cheap trinket got crushed by the real thing? Upset?” Their taunts shocked me back to a cold, hard clarity. I smiled a chilling, empty smile and pulled out my phone. “Isabella. Get your ass over here. Now.” Before I could even hear her reply, Lary kicked me down again. “Who the fuck do you think you are, calling my wife by her full name?” he seethed. “Acting like you’re the damn CEO of Apex Holdings. ‘Get your ass over here.’ What gives you the right?” His eyes were filled with contempt as he ground the toe of his shoe into my calf. “Bella was just playing with you. Did you really think she liked you? You’re so full of yourself you can’t even see what you are.” He kept ranting, but I just stared at him, my gaze unwavering and cold. “Keep talking. I want to see if you’re still smiling when she gets here.” “Huh? What’s this? A little good luck charm around your neck? Didn’t realize you were so superstitious.” Lary ignored my warning. His eyes lit up as he spotted something else. He crouched down and snatched the small, worn leather pouch from under my shirt. “A worthless life like yours doesn’t deserve this. Let’s just get rid of it.” I lunged, grabbing his wrist with all my strength. “Let. Go.” 3 Seeing the ferocity in my eyes, Lary just laughed. “What is this, the dark ages? Still believe in this hocus-pocus?” He pried my fingers off. “Or wait… did Isabella get this for you?” My teeth ground together, my hand shaking uncontrollably as I held onto his wrist. “The car, the locket, I don’t care. But you do not touch that charm.” I tried to scramble up from the ground, to snatch it back. My mother had gotten that charm for me from a remote mountain shrine. I was only five, struck by a mysterious illness that left me in a coma, unable to eat or drink. We went to every hospital, tried every folk remedy. Nothing worked except to make me vomit blood from all the failed treatments. We spent our life savings seeking help abroad, only for the world’s top specialists to tell my mother to give up on me. Of course, she refused. She heard of a shrine, a place of great power. Carrying me in her arms, she climbed the mountain, bowing her head to the stone path with every single step. It was a long, grueling path. Her forehead was a bloody mess, her knees worn down to the bone. But I, nestled in her arms, felt only warmth. I was her only hope, the only thing that kept her going. I never knew… that my life would be bought with her death. Whether by some miracle or sheer coincidence, as soon as she placed the blessed charm around my neck, I woke up. Overjoyed, she ignored her pain and bowed again and again to the shrine’s keeper, her bloodied forehead leaving a dark red stain on the stone floor. Perhaps the ordeal had drained every last bit of her strength. On the way down the mountain, she was exhausted. She entrusted me to a kind stranger for a moment while she sat to rest by the side of the path. When she tried to stand, a wave of dizziness overcame her, and she stumbled towards the cliff’s edge. In the final moment before she fell, I saw the look in her eyes. It was pure, unconditional love. And no regret. I know the only reason I’m still alive today is because of that charm, a charm my mother bought with her own life. It was the only proof I had that she had loved me. It was my breaking point. My absolute limit. And I would not let anyone destroy it. “You say I can’t touch it? Well, I’m going to do it just to spite you!” Lary’s face twisted into a demonic grin. And right in front of my eyes, he tore the leather pouch in two. Yellowed paper scraps and a tiny, faded black-and-white photograph fluttered down in front of me. My vision blurred with tears. “Lary… Han… sen!” A searing pain ripped through my chest, so intense I could barely breathe, let alone speak. “I will kill you!” A surge of power I didn’t know I possessed shot through me. I launched myself to my feet, knocked Lary to the ground, and brought my fist down on his face with every ounce of strength I had. It was the most satisfying, and most heartbreaking, punch I had ever thrown. Lary lay on the ground, a disgusting mess of blood and snot. “Son of a bitch! You dare touch Lary? Are you fucking insane?” As I raised my fist again, one of Lary’s lackeys kicked me squarely in the back. “Lary’s about to marry the CEO of Apex! His future is set! If you scramble his brains, do you think your worthless life could ever pay for it?” “You pathetic freeloader! You dare hit the real deal? You think we’re just gonna let you?” The whole group swarmed me then, kicking and punching my collapsed body relentlessly. Only when they saw the blood pouring from my nose and mouth, my face a swollen, bruised mess, did they finally stop, laughing. “Pah!” “If we weren’t old classmates, we would’ve killed you today.” Lary, clutching his jaw, was helped to his feet by a crony. He spat a bloody glob of phlegm onto my chest. Our old college advisor finally stepped in, but only to take Lary’s side. “Lary, that’s enough. Why waste your energy on low-life scum like this? It’s not worth it.” She shot me one last look of utter contempt. The pain was a white-hot fog, making it impossible to think. I curled up on the pavement, each breath a ragged, shallow gasp. “I… will make you… pay for this…” Even then, beaten and broken, the hatred in my heart didn’t lessen one bit. “Pfft!” “You? And what army?” Lary scoffed. “I’d love to see what kind of price you think you can make me pay!” The words had barely left his mouth when the roar of engines filled the air. A fleet of a hundred luxury cars, a symphony of raw power, descended upon the street. There wasn’t a single vehicle in the convoy worth less than a quarter of a million dollars. Click. Car doors opened in perfect unison. Figures emerged—tall, powerfully built men in sharp, dark suits, their faces grim and unyielding…

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I was a model, five years in the industry, and I’d been criticized for everything imaginable. Worse, I’d offended the darling of the heir to the Holt Corporation. I was blacklisted, my name dragged through the mud. In the glittering world of fame and fortune, I was taught a harsh lesson. Then, the internet dug up my past: I had once been engaged to that very heir, Jason Holt. The trolls were ecstatic. “No wonder Jason Holt hates her so much. With her background, how could she ever be Mrs. Holt?” “It has to be Miss Miller. She’s sweet, a talented actress, and the perfect future daughter-in-law for the Holts.” I walked out of the hospital. For the first time in a long while, I opened my social media and posted a single line. “An engagement can be broken at any time. I will never marry.” Later, I went to the Arctic to see the aurora. I left one final message. “Saw the northern lights. In this one second, I was happy.” 1 The moment I was diagnosed with bone cancer, my world went numb. Leaning against the hospital corridor, my eyes felt dry and empty, my limbs refusing to move. My manager, Sarah, stood frozen for a long moment before gently pulling my head onto her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “Maybe there’ll be a miracle. You can be cured.” I didn’t cry. The world just felt… quiet. Finally, I was the one to break the silence. “Sarah, let’s go over my current contracts. I want to finish everything up early, and then I’ll retire.” My words shattered her composure. She hugged me tightly, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The next day, I was trending for all the wrong reasons. “Washed-up model Clara Lynn spotted at hospital, rumored to have had an abortion for a wealthy tycoon.” “Zoom in on the picture. Her eyes are red. The tycoon must not have wanted the baby. She tried to trap him and failed.” “LOL, this is hilarious. The most shameless person in entertainment.” “Three years ago, there were rumors she was beaten up by the tycoon’s wife.” Sarah stormed into my apartment, fuming. “This is absolute garbage.” “That’s it. I’m suing them for defamation. These rumor-mongers need to be held accountable.” But the company’s response was cold. “Sarah, bad press is still press.” It was clear they had no intention of taking down the posts. They’d already branded me as that kind of celebrity. I shook my head, signaling for Sarah to let it go. The online hate… I truly couldn’t feel it anymore. 2 On the set of “The Artisan,” I ran into Jason Holt. And, of course, a young actress named Mia Miller. It was only then that I realized Holt Corporation had invested in the film. Mia, originally cast as the second female lead, had been elevated to co-lead. Sarah was furious. She confronted the producer. “Clara pushed aside all her other work for this film. She spent a year studying with a master carver, who personally requested her for the lead role. Now you’re making the second lead a co-lead? What is the meaning of this?” The producer just shrugged. “Holt Corporation is the investor. My hands are tied.” As the producer walked away, I pulled Sarah back. “Let’s run my lines.” In the break room, I was silently reciting my script when a tall figure walked past the door, followed by a pretty young woman. “Jason,” she said, her voice sweet, “I’m so happy you could be here for the first day of filming.” The man grunted a cool “Mm.” 3 During filming, the director’s standards were sky-high. Mia messed up her lines repeatedly, slowing down the entire production. But no one dared to complain. Even after Jason left, his presence lingered, and no one wanted to cross Mia. We wrapped the last night scene after midnight. Too exhausted to even remove my makeup, I ducked into the bathroom. The sink was filled with blood. My hands trembled. As I came out, I unexpectedly ran into Jason. He glanced at me, his eyes cold. Our gazes met for a brief, charged moment. I clenched my fists. I was about to walk over, to say something, anything. But he had already stubbed out his cigarette and turned away. Five years ago, when we broke up, he’d said, “Clara, if you don’t go abroad with me, we’re over.” Five years ago, he left the country, and I entered the entertainment industry. 4 The next day, Jason hired the best acting coach to tutor Mia on set. Her number of takes decreased dramatically. The filming schedule got back on track, which was a relief for me. My increasingly frail body appreciated the shorter days. But two weeks later, during a scene where I was supposed to be slapped, Mia couldn’t get it right. We spent the entire morning on that one scene. I was slapped more than ten times. And of course, Jason chose that day to visit the set. The director, fuming but helpless, could only patiently demonstrate the correct way to perform the slap over and over. But Mia seemed to have lost her mind that day, unable to learn. Finally, on her last attempt, my nose started to bleed profusely. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes. The next take, she finally got it right. During the lunch break, my head was spinning, and the nosebleed wouldn’t stop. My face was ashen. Sarah, terrified, said she would ask for the afternoon off so I could go to the hospital. I shook my head and told her to close the door. I swallowed a handful of pills, trying to numb the pain that wracked my body. When I seemed a little better, Sarah opened the door to get me some food. Just then, Jason walked past. He glanced in, his brow furrowed at the sight of me wrapped in a thick blanket on a hot summer day, with drops of blood on the floor. Sarah slammed the door shut. “Mr. Holt, you see that?” she snapped. “Acting requires talent. People who can’t act are just here to cause trouble.” “A few slaps and she’s this weak? Then I suggest Miss Lynn quit acting and find a few more sugar daddies.” “You—” Jason turned and walked away. Sarah’s anger still hadn’t subsided. “Mr. Holt, don’t forget, you and Clara still have an engagement.” His footsteps paused. “She’s that filthy. You think I’d marry her?” Crash. The cup in my hand fell to the floor, shattering. Hot water splashed onto my feet. Sarah turned, saw the blood trickling down my leg from a shard of glass, and cried out. “Are you okay, Clara?” As she helped me clean the wound, she continued to rage at the empty doorway. “You don’t want to marry her? In the future, you won’t even have the chance.” The man, as if he’d just heard the funniest joke, was gone. 5 Throughout the shoot, Sarah was constantly on the verge of exploding. The promotional materials released to the public were all edited to show Mia out-acting me, making it look like I couldn’t keep up. That I was unprofessional, constantly delaying the production. I was back on the trending hate list. “So annoying. If you can’t act, just quit. Stop wasting everyone’s time.” “Exactly. I feel so bad for our Mia, having to act opposite someone so unprofessional. What bad luck.” “I was at the set. Clara kept messing up her blocking. Mia had to slap her for the scene, but she kept flinching. They did over ten takes. Mia was so frustrated she was crying by the end.” Sarah turned off her phone, pacing in frustration. “This is insane! They’re twisting everything, completely reversing the truth!” I said nothing, just kept scrolling. Finally, I found a small, quiet voice of support. “Wait, really? I thought Clara’s acting was great. I cried so much watching her as the blind girl in ‘The Last Empress.’” Seeing that comment, my brow finally relaxed. There was no point in getting angry. I tugged on Sarah’s arm. “How can you not be angry? This is clearly Mia’s team, maliciously editing videos to leech off your popularity and build her up.” I shook my head. “When the show airs, everyone will be able to judge for themselves. Don’t worry about it.” “You’re wrong. Her team is powerful. I’m afraid they’ll pull some other stunt.” I fell silent. “Sarah, I just want to finish this film. It’s the most important thing I want to accomplish in my life.” Sarah quieted down. The film was about a master woodcarver, and our family had once been in that business. I wanted to fulfill my parents’ last wish, to bring the traditional art of woodcarving to the big screen for more people to see. 6 As filming neared its end, my body grew thinner. Fortunately, this matched the plot, where my character runs herself ragged trying to get her woodcarving business off the ground. After the final major scene, the director patted my shoulder. “You’ve worked hard, Clara. You were brilliant.” Being praised by the director made me happy. “Thank you, Director.” I headed back to the dressing room to prepare for the next scene. Sarah was also relieved. “This film is finally wrapping up. I was so worried you wouldn’t make it. Thank God.” She clasped her hands together, looking up at the ceiling. Then, she picked up the jade good-luck charm from my dressing table. “No, I should be thanking your aunt. She must be watching over you from heaven.” I smiled and took the jade charm, pressing it to my chest. It was a gift from my mother. Through all the hardest times, it had been my constant companion. But just as I stood up to change my shoes, a sudden force slammed into the dressing table. My jade charm was swept to the floor, shattering into pieces. I froze. Mia stared, wide-eyed. The dressing room fell silent. Everyone knew how much that jade charm meant to me. It was my lucky charm. And now, it was broken. Mia stammered, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. My foot slipped.” I didn’t speak for a long time. Finally, I knelt and carefully gathered the broken pieces, wrapping them in a handkerchief. Sarah lunged at Mia, but the director came in just then, urging us to hurry. I stopped her. “Let’s film first.” 7 After the final moonlit scene, I sat on the stone steps, silently unwrapping the broken jade pieces. “Mia already wrapped and left. She sure ran off fast.” I didn’t say anything, just stared at the fractured characters for “peace” and “safety.” Just then, my phone lit up. I numbly pulled it out. It was Jason, who hadn’t contacted me in five years. A single, short message. “Don’t cause her any trouble. How much? I’ll pay for it.” I stared at the words, a sharp pain twisting in my chest. Did he know what he was offering to pay for? Did he remember that this was the jade charm my mother, on her deathbed, had taken from her own neck and given to me, as I stood there with him by her side? “My dear, I have nothing left to give you. Wear this charm. It will keep you safe for a lifetime.” The faded memories sharpened, becoming painfully clear. After my mother closed her eyes for the last time, I had clung to her cold body, sobbing uncontrollably. It was Jason who had held me from behind. “Don’t cry, Clara. You still have me.” I traced the two halves of the broken characters. As I did, a warm liquid dripped from my nose, staining them red. After five years, I didn’t reply to his message. I just deleted his contact. 8 The next day, I learned that Mia had already posted on social media the night before, tagging me. “I’m so sorry, Clara. I really didn’t mean to break it. I’ll buy you an identical one. Please don’t be mad at me, everyone. If you have to be mad, please be gentle.” The post was followed by two bowing emojis. I had been in the hospital all night, fighting for my life. When I woke up, I was at the top of the hate list. Mia’s comments section was full of people attacking me. My own account was flooded with trolls. “Mia already apologized and offered to pay. What more do you want?” “Why are you being silent? Do you want her to kneel and beg for your forgiveness?” “Live and let live.” Mia’s comments, on the other hand, were full of comfort. “Don’t be scared, sweetie. It was an accident. It’s not your fault.” “Exactly. Everyone makes mistakes. It’s no big deal.” “Mia is the most sincere apologizer I’ve ever seen.” “LOL, those two bowing emojis are so cute!” “Protect Mia! Don’t let that washed-up model make a big deal out of nothing.” “What’s there to be afraid of? Our Mia is dating the heir to Holt Corporation. No one can bully her.” “Haha, her sugar daddy is probably in his forties.” “Not only is Mr. Holt handsome, he’s worth billions. I heard he’s already introduced Mia to his parents.” I turned off my phone. I couldn’t look anymore. I just stared blankly at the tube feeding blood into my body. Sarah tucked the blanket around me. “Aren’t you going to respond?” She knew that if I didn’t, the company wouldn’t either. I would be subjected to the online abuse for a long time. I just shook my head. “Sarah, I’m so tired.” 9 I was in the hospital for a week. My condition had worsened to the point where I had to stay. I was too weak to even get out of bed. My hair was falling out in clumps. After a week of intensive treatment, I was finally feeling a little better. I was getting ready to leave for a voice-over session when Sarah rushed in. “What’s wrong?” I asked, putting on my jacket. She stared at me for a long moment. “Your past relationship with Jason has been exposed.” My hand trembled as I buttoned my jacket. In the car on the way to the recording studio, I stared at the rampant speculation on social media, my face devoid of expression. It had all started with an anonymous blogger. “Explosive news: Five years ago, Jason Holt and Clara Lynn were engaged.” The post created a storm. Jason had always been a mystery to the media. Even with Mia, there were only one or two photos of them together. His private life was a well-guarded secret. This revelation sent the internet into a frenzy. At first, people were skeptical. But then the blogger released photos of us from college. A photo of me at the Holt family mansion. A photo of me and Jason having dinner with his elders. The doubters fell silent. The conversation shifted. “What is going on?” “Didn’t Clara become a model because she needed money? In these photos, she looks so… poised.” Soon, my family background was unearthed. “Clara is the daughter of the bankrupted Lynn Corporation? Oh my god, after the bankruptcy, her father was killed by debt collectors, and her mother committed suicide and couldn’t be saved.” “I believe it. Clara being the daughter of the Lynn family and being engaged to the Holts makes perfect sense.” My past was laid bare. My hands trembled uncontrollably. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, the posts vanished, as if someone had deliberately suppressed them. I guessed it was the Holt family. I thought that would be the end of it. But the hate comments on my own account continued. “Did you leak this yourself? For attention?” “Stop dreaming. Jason Holt is not for you. He belongs to Mia.” “That’s right. Jason only loves Mia.” “Can you even compare yourself to Mia? You started as a trashy model, you’ve probably been passed around by everyone. Mia isn’t like you. She’s pure, a graduate of a prestigious overseas university.” “Haha, no wonder. She used to have an endorsement deal with Holt Corp, but as soon as Jason took over, he canceled it. He must have been disgusted with her for a long time.” 10 It was evening when I left the recording studio. Sarah was squatting nearby, furiously typing on her phone. “Sarah?” I called out. She looked up, quickly hiding her phone. “What’s going on online now?” I asked. She shook her head. “Nothing. We’re done for the day. Let’s go.” But as she turned, I snatched her phone and looked at the screen. I froze. The trolls had started attacking Sarah. Vicious, hateful comments about her parents, her children. I couldn’t stay silent any longer. I logged into my own account. “An engagement can be broken at any time. I will never marry.” When Sarah saw the post, she gently stroked my hair. Only she knew what “I will never marry” really meant. Faced with the overwhelming hate, she had suggested more than once that we release my medical records. But I had refused. It wouldn’t do any good. With the public so firmly against me, even if I was dying, they would probably just accuse me of faking a terminal illness for sympathy. Perhaps only on the day I actually died would the slander finally, maybe, quiet down. 11 I never expected to get a call from Jason that night. The night was still. Neither of us spoke. I didn’t know what he was doing. I looked at the moon outside the hospital window and broke the silence. “You should release a statement. The engagement is off. We have no relationship.” His breathing on the other end of the line quickened. “Clara, are you sure about this? The Holt family’s official channels haven’t said anything. That means you still have a chance.” “Once they do, there’s no going back for us. Ever.” I suddenly spoke. “Jason, do you want to marry me?” “If you did, I wouldn’t have had to wait until now.” I raised a hand to wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. “It was over for us a long time ago. We just never said goodbye.” “This is the real goodbye. Goodbye to the us we were before we were twenty.” I hung up. The silence in the room was chilling. 12 I never expected Mrs. Holt to summon me. When I left the recording studio, the Holt family’s driver was waiting for me. I got in the car. It had been five years since I’d last seen the elegant and regal Mrs. Holt. She was as noble as ever. I no longer had the same cautious timidity I’d had back then. She poured me a cup of tea, a pleased smile on her face. Just as I was about to speak, the butler announced, “Madam, Miss Miller’s shawl was left here last time.” I looked at the pale pink shawl the butler was holding. “Put it away. She’ll be here later for lunch with Jason.” Mrs. Holt’s words were directed at me, her eyes watching my reaction. I showed none. Just then, there was a sound from the staircase. A sharp, piercing gaze fell upon me. The pain in my body suddenly flared. I put down the velvet box I was holding. “I have something else to do. I should go now. I won’t disturb you.” As I stood to leave, the smell of blood filled my nostrils. I quickly covered my nose and hurried away. “Wait.” “Is there something else?” I froze, my body stiff. The person from the stairs came down and picked up the box from the coffee table. “You’re returning the ring?” “Yes. Things should be returned to their rightful owner.” “Take it. I don’t have a habit of taking back gifts.” It was useless to him, of course. He would just buy a new one. But from my perspective, I had no right to keep it. “I can’t accept it. If you don’t want it back, throw it away.” Footsteps approached from behind. I didn’t dare linger. I ran. By the time I was in a taxi, my palm was slick with blood from my nose.

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At Northgate High, a string of brutal murders shocked the nation. One by one, the students who bullied me turned up dead. And I became the prime suspect. As the detectives strode toward me, their faces grim, I smiled. I had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. 1. The Confrontation In the interrogation room, I stared at the stark, white walls. Detective Miller, the one who’d brought me in, and a female officer, Detective Chen, sat across from me, their expressions severe. “Hannah Evans, correct?” I tore my eyes from the wall, my voice laced with indifference. “Yes.” Miller’s voice suddenly boomed. “Watch your attitude. You’re in here to answer for what you’ve done.” I let a small smile play on my lips and sat up straighter. “Fine. My first question is, on what grounds am I being held?” Miller’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You really don’t know?” “Was it a surplus of empty rooms at the station? Offering free stays to civic-minded citizens?” “Hannah, if you continue with this attitude, we can charge you with obstruction of justice.” This time, it was Chen who spoke, her voice softer. I gave my cuffed hands a little shake, my apology dripping with sarcasm. “My mistake. I’m a total amateur when it comes to the law. Don’t hold it against me.” The room fell silent for a moment. Miller pulled out his notepad, his gaze fixed on me. “Where were you last night?” “Working.” “That late?” “I have class during the day. No other time.” “You were working the entire night?” “Yes.” “Lies!” Miller slammed his notepad on the table. “You were seen on Boston Road with Laura Peterson at midnight!” I wasn’t fazed. “Oh. So something happened to Laura.” The certainty in my voice made Miller’s gaze sharpen. “How did you know?” I looked him straight in the eye. “Is it that hard to guess? She missed class all morning, and by the afternoon, you’d dragged me in here asking about her.” “Fine. I won’t beat around the bush. Did you kill Laura Peterson?” A normal person would have been terrified. My emotional state, however, remained perfectly stable. “She’s dead? I have an alibi, Detective. That’s called a forced confession.” Chen picked up the thread. “You even know what a forced confession is. You must watch a lot of crime shows.” I smiled. “Just a few TV dramas.” Chen’s tone shifted. “But we never mentioned the time of the incident. How do you know you have an alibi?” I looked at her earnestly. “She was fine when we parted ways. Whatever happened must have been after I left.” “Left?” Miller cut in. “Left where?” I turned back to him. “Left the school. She’s a boarder. I’m a day student.” Miller produced a grainy photograph. “Then why does security footage show you and Laura on Boston Road at midnight?” It was a still from a security camera, showing two blurry figures—me and Laura—at the school gate. I glanced at it and the memory came flooding back. “The school doesn’t allow phones. I’d charged hers the day before and was supposed to sneak it back to her. But security was tight at the gate that day, so I hid it in the bushes. That night, she was afraid I’d tricked her and insisted on coming with me to get it.” Miller scoffed. “So you two were close?” I didn’t want to get into it. “We were okay.” “Is there a single truthful word in your mouth?” Miller’s face darkened. “On March fourth, you filed a police report claiming Laura Peterson was bullying you. While no charges were filed due to your age, the report is on record!” I lifted my gaze, my voice flat. “Then you should also know that her family paid mine fifty thousand dollars to settle the matter.” At that, a flicker of memory made me smile again. “Why would I kill her? If she beat me half to death again, I could just extort another payment from her.” Since Miller had dug into my past, he knew exactly what I meant. Six months ago, I was relentlessly tormented by Laura and her friends. I couldn’t take it anymore and told my parents and the school. Laura’s family had connections at the school. The anonymous complaint I dropped in the tip box one day was in her hands the next. She read my letter aloud in front of me, her voice dripping with mockery. Halfway through, she flew into a rage, rolled the thick stack of paper into a tube, and shoved it violently into my mouth. I gagged, my eyes rolling back. In my struggle, I managed to scratch her. That only made her angrier. She grabbed a broken mop handle from the bathroom and beat me like a rabid dog. I honestly thought I was going to die, but I clenched my teeth and refused to beg. I passed out and was beaten awake, over and over. Thankfully, it was daytime. Laura and her crew locked me in the bathroom and went to lunch. Terrified I would actually die in there, I dragged my broken body out the window. Under the horrified stares of dozens of students, I stumbled to the nearest police station. I was a mess, and there were too many witnesses. The police quickly found Laura, using the DNA under my fingernails to identify her. Laura’s mother, radiating wealth and arrogance, stormed into my hospital room. In front of the police and my parents, she stated her terms bluntly. “My daughter is young. She gets carried away when she’s playing with friends. Young lady, I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars in compensation. How about it?” Even the police advised me that given Laura’s age, a lawsuit would likely go nowhere. My parents were ordinary, timid people. When I’d told them about the bullying before, their only advice was, “Just endure it. They’re powerful people. We can’t afford to make enemies. Once you get to college, it’ll all be over.” Now, faced with Laura’s intimidating mother and the officers’ advice, their resolve crumbled. They pleaded with me. “Let it go. You’re okay now, aren’t you? And if you won’t think about yourself, think about your brother. The family really needs the money.” They practically forced my head down to sign the settlement agreement. Laura’s mother took the signed paper, glanced at my parents greedily counting the cash, and then smiled at me. “You rest up now. Once you’re all healed, maybe you can earn your parents another big payday.” Detective Chen clearly knew this story. Her expression was complicated. “If you took the money, why didn’t you transfer to another school?” A faint smirk touched my lips. “Detective, are you hoping I’ll say it was for revenge?” Chen didn’t answer, just watched me intently. I leaned back against the chair, exhaled, and smiled. “Of course, it was because that money had to be saved for my brother’s education. And his wedding.” Chen was taken aback and said no more. “Then why were your fingerprints all over the crime scene?” “Crime scene?” I thought for a moment. “The sophomore classroom, the school rooftop, the supply closet, or the abandoned toilets on the sports field? I’ve crawled around like a dog in all those places. It wouldn’t be strange to find my fingerprints anywhere.” Miller cut in. “Forget the other places. Tell me what you and Laura were doing at the school before midnight. Day students are allowed to leave at eight.” I almost laughed. “Detective, you should be asking what she was doing to me.” “Fine. Then tell us what she did to you.” “I’d only been back at school for a few days after recovering. Laura couldn’t stand the sight of me. She was always looking for a chance to ‘teach me a lesson.’ That night, before midnight, she was beating me.” The bruises on my face were still visible. I said it lightly, but the others in the room fell silent. “So you killed her?” The two detectives were deliberately illogical, jumping from topic to topic, hoping to catch me off guard with a sudden accusation. I was getting annoyed. “If you have evidence, present it. I have an alibi. There are cameras all the way from the school to my job, and from my job back to the school. Go check them yourselves.” With that, I leaned back in the chair, closed my eyes, and refused to say another word, no matter what they asked. Interrogations are useless without evidence. Right now, they had nothing concrete. As long as I kept my mouth shut, there was nothing they could do. I was held for 24 hours. When they finally let me go, my legs were swollen. I stretched my stiff limbs. Turning back, I offered the two officers at the door a smile. “See you later.” 2. Campus Terror When I returned to school, the news of Laura’s death was still under wraps. Everyone just assumed I’d taken a day off. Walking past the abandoned toilets on the sports field, I saw they were now cordoned off with yellow police tape. I made it back to the classroom just as the break bell rang. The room was buzzing with noise, but the students, as if by some unspoken agreement, all ignored me. I calmly went to my desk, swept the pile of trash they’d left on it into the bin, and cleaned my space just before the next class began. The teacher, entering from the back door as the bell rang, paused when he saw me. A second later, he pretended not to have seen anything, walked to the front, and started his lecture. The thought of Laura being dead sent a thrill through me. My fingertips danced a happy little rhythm on the desk. Time flies when you’re having fun. The bell rang again, signaling the long mid-morning break—twenty minutes of freedom. Students poured out of their seats, heading outside. Suddenly, a loud THUD! The hallway fell silent for a heartbeat. Then, a scream. “Someone jumped!” A chaotic swarm of students rushed to the windows, bodies climbing over each other to get a look. Someone recognized the fallen figure. “Is that Tiffany?” Tiffany, Laura’s twin sister. The second person who had bullied me had just jumped from the roof. She’d jumped from the rooftop, a spot many students used to get some air during the break. There were no cameras up there. Down below, police had already cordoned off the area. A woman was being held back by a group of officers, her cries echoing, wild and grief-stricken. I almost didn’t recognize her as the same immaculately dressed, imperious woman from the hospital. The school’s PA system crackled to life, ordering all students to return to their classrooms and stay put. I thought about it for a moment, then ignored the announcement and headed downstairs. Under the watchful eyes of the police, I walked toward the hysterical woman. An officer, his gaze probing, subtly blocked my path, keeping me from getting too close. I stopped a few feet away and offered my sincere condolences. “Auntie,” I said, my voice clear and carrying, my smile perfectly placed. “You should use your money to piece your daughter back together.” The woman’s sobs choked off. A second later, her hair flying wildly, she lunged at me. “You bitch! It was you! You killed my daughter!” The police scrambled again, this time to shield me. I watched the crazed woman, my expression cold. I met her bloodshot eyes, and a slow, deliberate smile spread across my face. I puckered my lips and made a soft sound. “Pop.” I was back at the police station. Familiar seat. Familiar faces. Miller’s notebook hit the table with a resounding smack. His voice was a furious snarl. “What was the meaning of what you said back at the school?” I looked at him, the picture of innocence. “Detective, didn’t you know? Tiffany landed in pieces. The morticians will have to stitch her back together.” Based on where she fell, she must have jumped from the southeast corner of the roof. It was a known blind spot. A spot where other students had stumbled upon Laura and Tiffany beating me. A spot they now assiduously avoided, not wanting to get involved. Even if someone had seen something, after I had reported the bullying once, the school had held multiple assemblies, strictly forbidding students from discussing school matters with outsiders, especially the police. The students had learned their lesson well. Their mouths were sealed. Just like when they’d seen nothing as my clothes were torn off and I was left in a corner. I was sure that this time, too, Miller and Chen had gotten nothing out of them. So, they were focusing all their energy on me again. The two detectives exchanged a look. Chen spoke first. “You didn’t seem to mention your relationship with Tiffany last time.” I tilted my head. “Did you ask?” “Fine. I’m asking now. What was your relationship with Tiffany Peterson?” “It was okay.” “Hannah!” Miller roared. “Think carefully before you answer.” I lowered my head, my voice quiet. “Detective, as you know, I have the right to remain silent.” Don’t you raise your voice at me. The power to speak, or not, is mine. He must have remembered my previous stonewalling. Miller changed his tactic. “Only by telling us what you know can we clear your name.” This time, I really did laugh. “Innocent until proven guilty. If you can’t find any evidence, my name is already clear. Detective, what do you mean, clear my name?” Tiffany’s death happened during school hours, with too many witnesses. The fallout would be massive. Every person in charge was probably in a full-blown panic. “Besides, didn’t Tiffany jump? What’s the use of arresting me?” “Laura and Tiffany, both dead in a matter of days. You think that’s a coincidence?” I shook my head. “No, I don’t. But you can’t solve a case based on guesswork.” “Fine. You were the person in most recent contact with them. Did you notice anything unusual about them lately?” The irony was thick. The person they bullied the most had somehow become the person closest to them. Unusual? Of course. Unusually vicious. After my incident was “resolved,” the Peterson twins became even more convinced of their parents’ power. Their cruelty escalated. After I reported them and the police reviewed the security footage, they learned how to erase their tracks. Every act of torment took place in a blind spot, where cameras were either nonexistent or conveniently broken. They had sown the wind, and now they were reaping the whirlwind. The police couldn’t even figure out who they had recently crossed. I shook my head again. “No. I spent every day trying to avoid them. Why would I pay attention to them?” “Did they have any other friends they usually hung out with?” What she really wanted to ask was who else participated in the bullying. If the twins’ deaths were related to bullying, identifying other potential victims was a key part of the investigation. I actually didn’t mind talking to Detective Chen. A bit of civic cooperation. “That’s a difficult question for me to answer. After all, a beating victim’s only job is to cover their head. They don’t get the privilege of looking up.” Chen was silent. I saw Miller frown. “But you must know how many people were there.” The people there… I didn’t need to see them. I could hear their voices. I didn’t refuse outright. I looked at Miller and said, with utmost seriousness, “I can. On the condition that they admit to participating in the bullying.”

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The night before our wedding, my fiancée, Ava, was at her bachelorette party, locked in a passionate kiss with the ghost of her past. As if that wasn’t enough of a thrill, they filmed it and blasted it all over their social media. Our friends and family were instantly in an uproar. By the time I saw it the next morning, the post had over 99 comments. Ava put on a show of feigned embarrassment. “I had a bit too much to drink last night… but what’s done is done. Why don’t we just roll with it? Let him take your place and marry me.” She added, with a careless shrug, “Besides, we already have the marriage license. It’s not like one ceremony makes a difference.” The hotel staff standing nearby stared, their jaws on the floor, clearly expecting me to explode. Instead, I just smiled, nodded, and agreed. A triumphant smirk played on Ava’s lips. She commented that I’d finally learned my lesson, that I wasn’t going to make a scene about her and her old flame this time. But what she seemed to have forgotten was that the marriage certificate she’d given me years ago was a complete fake. … The moment I agreed to Ava’s request, she had me strip off my tuxedo. The hotel staff, moving with a surreal efficiency, began replacing the posters of me and Ava with new ones featuring her and Dylan. “Liam,” she said, her voice soft and placating, “Dylan’s parents have been hounding him to get married. Once we’ve put on this show for them, I promise I’ll throw you a wedding even grander than this one. Okay?” I nodded, my eyes catching on the faint, crimson mark blooming on her neck. Ignoring the bewildered and pitying stares from everyone around me, I removed my tux and took a seat at a table reserved for the bride’s family. I had poured my heart and soul into planning this wedding, agonizing over every detail for months. The venue, the catering—everything was top-tier. I never imagined I was just preparing a dowry for another man. I downed a glass of bitter champagne, the irony a sharp taste in my mouth, and turned my gaze to the stage. Ava, radiant in a pristine white gown, her eyes glistening with tears, shared a deep, passionate kiss with Dylan as the crowd roared its approval. Suddenly, the champagne didn’t taste so bitter anymore. Maybe I was just numb. For years, I’d known about Dylan, the unforgettable ex she could never let go of. I had fought it, argued, raged—all to no avail. Each time, Ava would swear she was done with him, that she would never contact him again, only to find her way back into his orbit. Slowly, without me even realizing when it happened, the fight went out of me. I had convinced myself that once we were officially married, she would finally settle down. But here she was, giving away the very wedding I had begged her for, the one she finally, begrudgingly, agreed to. I drained the last of my glass and slipped out of the reception just before the toasts began. My phone rang almost immediately. It was Ava. “Liam, where did you go? The toasts are about to start.” “Dylan was even going to have a drink with you, to thank you.” Thank me? More like mock me. She knew perfectly well that Dylan and I were like oil and water. But she always cared more about his feelings, so she let him provoke me, time and time again. “I have something to take care of, so I left early,” I said. “What could you possibly have to do? You… you’re not angry about the wedding, are you?” I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, Ava. I’m angry.” Her voice turned sharp, laced with ice. “Why are you like this now? A grown man, acting so petty and jealous all the time.” “You should learn from Dylan. He’s so understanding. He knows I’m your wife, yet he’s willing to risk being laughed at to have this ceremony with me.” There it was again. He was the one being laughed at? The joke was clearly on me. Before I could respond, I heard Dylan’s smug voice in the background. “It’s the least I could do, Ava, babe. I should be thanking you. The minute you heard my parents were on my case, you didn’t hesitate to say you’d do this with me.” “Oh, and thanks, Liam, my man, for putting all this together for us~” Hearing his voice, my hand clenched around my phone. I was no stranger to Ava’s favoritism. At our law firm, she insisted I address her formally as “Ms. Hayes” in front of colleagues. Yet, she let Dylan call her “Ava-baby” for all to hear. Three months ago, on a whim from Dylan, she had transferred a nearly-won case to him—a case I had spent weeks gathering crucial evidence for. Predictably, Dylan, with his stunning incompetence, managed to turn a sure victory into a losing battle. And just as predictably, Ava threw the mess back in my lap. “Liam, you know Dylan just started at the firm. We can’t let one case tarnish his future.” “Besides,” she’d continued, “you were the one handling it from the beginning. Now that it’s about to be lost, it’s only right that you take full responsibility.” “Look, you wanted a wedding, right? I’ll make it up to you. I’ll give you a wedding after this is all over.” I never realized that “wedding” was intended for Dylan all along. When I didn’t respond to Dylan’s jibe, Ava’s patience snapped. “Liam, Dylan is talking to you. What are you doing, just standing there?” “You’re being so childish. Don’t make me yell at you on such a happy day!” A self-deprecating sneer touched my lips. “Right. My mistake. I’m sorry.” Perhaps sensing the bleakness in my tone, Ava’s voice softened slightly. “Fine. It’s not like your immaturity is anything new. We’ll leave it at that. We have to go make the rounds.” “Oh, by the way,” she added, “go home and pack a bag. Move out for a bit. There are going to be wedding night pranks later, and we can’t have Dylan’s parents seeing you there and blowing our cover.” It was time to move out. After all, it wasn’t my home anymore. “Did you hear me? Liam, I…” I cut her off, my voice eerily calm. “Ava, we’re done.” She paused, stunned, then her voice exploded with anger. “What did you just say, Liam? We have a marriage license! We’re husband and wife! What do you mean, ‘we’re done’?” “I’m just pretending to marry Dylan! The certificate is in your hands! Are you really going to be so jealous that you’d say something like that to me?” Hearing that, I lost all will to argue. The years I had invested felt like a cosmic joke. A marriage license? She knew the truth about that piece of paper better than anyone. My silence must have seemed like surrender to her. “Look,” she said, her tone shifting again. “I know you’re just jealous and trying to get a reaction out of me by saying we should break up. But if you ever say that again, I’ll be seriously angry. Just think of this as… a temporary break, okay?” “By the way, there’s a really tricky case in Chicago that needs looking into. Why don’t you head out there and start gathering evidence?” With that, she hung up. But just before the line went dead, I faintly heard her explaining to Dylan, “I haven’t found anyone to take over his current cases yet. Once I do…” A wave of despair washed over me. So that’s all I was to her? A tool? A cash cow? I worked myself to the bone, winning cases, and she took the money I earned to wine and dine Dylan. I remembered a year ago, my old scooter for commuting broke down. I asked her if she could help me get a new one. She bought me a second-hand bicycle, forcing me to pedal through the freezing winter to get to work. “The economy is rough right now, Liam. I don’t have the spare cash. Just make do,” she’d said. I’d arrive at the firm, my nose red and raw from the biting wind, only to see a brand-new Apollo sports car parked out front. It was then I realized the economy wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Ava had used the money I earned to buy Dylan a birthday present, all for the sake of seeing him smile. Shaking my head at the memory, I went home, packed a suitcase, and headed straight for the law firm. “Mr. Evans? Aren’t you and Ms. Hayes at your wedding?” Everyone from the firm was at the ceremony, except for a young female intern. Coincidentally, she was the one I was mentoring. Or maybe it wasn’t a coincidence at all. “You’re mistaken,” I said calmly, pulling out a resignation letter. “That’s Ms. Hayes and Dylan’s wedding. Not mine.” Because Ava had always claimed I was a “partner” in the firm, we’d never signed a formal employment contract. It meant I could walk away whenever I wanted. The irony was staggering—a law firm operating on such legally dubious grounds. The intern stared, then understanding dawned in her eyes, followed by a flash of indignation. “Ms. Hayes has gone too far!” I managed a small smile, told her to keep up the good work, and walked out of the place I had dedicated years of my life to, without a second glance. But leaving didn’t bring the relief I expected. A renowned lawyer, a name in the industry, with only three dollars and sixty-five cents to my name. No one would believe it if I told them. With a heavy sigh, I hesitated, then dialed a number from my college days. When my old friend heard I’d broken up with Ava, she was ecstatic. She immediately offered to drive down overnight, bring me to her firm in Westport, and make me a partner with shares. I told her not to go to such trouble. All I needed was two hundred dollars for a bus ticket. After years of taking the bus on business trips to save money, I was used to it. But her reaction was one of genuine heartache. She immediately transferred two million dollars into my account and told me to book the most expensive first-class flight for the next day. She said she was already on her way to the airport to wait for me. A bitter smile touched my lips, my mood sinking even lower. Such generosity. She was far more generous to me than Ava ever was. I spent the night in a hotel, scrolling through my phone. I saw a video Dylan had posted of the wedding night pranks, of Ava’s unrestrained, joyous laughter. I silently gave it a ‘like.’ The next day, I boarded the first-class flight right on time. Shortly after we landed, as I was walking out of the airport, I heard a familiar voice. It was Dylan, his tone dripping with disbelief. “Liam? You’re supposed to be in Chicago for that case. What are you doing, following us?” “So that’s why you liked our video last night! You were planning this all along, weren’t you!” he sneered. I turned to see Ava and Dylan, wedding rings on their fingers, hands intertwined, looking for all the world like a blissfully happy couple. They really did look perfect together. Seeing me, Ava looked exasperated. She let go of Dylan’s hand and walked toward me. “Liam, we agreed to take a break for a while. I’m taking Dylan on a honeymoon now. It’s the only way to completely convince his parents.” “If you keep following me like this, you’re just going to wear me out. Besides, didn’t I give you a case to work on?” Dylan, scowling, pointed a finger at me. “Liam, I’m already being a good sport about you and Ava having a license together. Can’t you be a bigger person and give us some private space?” “Why are you following us? What’s next, are you going to watch us in bed too?” Seeing Dylan get angry, Ava rushed to soothe him, then turned back to me with a frown. “Alright, Liam, you’ve seen me. Now go home, okay? You know Dylan doesn’t like you.” Then, her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Where did you get the money for a plane ticket? Did you have a secret stash of cash? You’ve got some nerve!” My face remained a calm mask. “First, I wasn’t following you. Second, a friend bought me the ticket.” Ava’s patience wore thin. “Still lying? What friends do you even have in this city?” Dylan chimed in with a smirk. “The money… don’t tell me you took out a loan, Liam?” At that, Ava reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “That’s so embarrassing! I’ll transfer you the money. Pay it back immediately. Don’t let your personal loans affect the firm’s reputation. Now get lost!” Looking at Ava’s disgusted expression, I found the situation absurdly funny. When I first discovered the marriage certificate was a fake, I didn’t expose her lie. I held onto a sliver of hope that one day, the fake could become real. It wasn’t until she brought Dylan into our firm, until her favoritism became blatant and she spent all her time with him, that I finally understood. A fake is always just a fake. “I’ve transferred the money! Now get out of here, do you hear me?!” I was about to ignore her, but her words grew more vicious. Just as I was about to retort, another voice cut through the air. “Liam! I waited for you all night, my eyes are all swollen. You’re finally here.” “Who are they? Your ex-girlfriend? Didn’t you say you two broke up?” I turned to see Claire, a friend I hadn’t seen in years, striding towards us in a stunning designer dress. A smile finally broke through my grim expression as I walked over to her. Ava froze, her mind reeling, before the reality of the situation hit her. “You came here to see her?” A flicker of derision crossed Dylan’s face. “Oh my god,” he said in a singsong, malicious tone. “Is this the little mistress you’ve been keeping on the side, Liam?” The accusation struck a chord with Ava. She looked at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “So that’s why you wanted to break up with me! You found someone new!” “Liam, we were together for twelve years, married for ten! And you’ve been with another woman? How could you do this to me?” Dylan, his eyes shining with triumph, piled on. “Liam, how could you betray your pure, sacred love with Ava over something so small? You’re such a disappointment. Ava, babe, let’s go. I feel dirty just breathing the same air as a cheater like him!” I almost laughed out loud. The hypocrisy was breathtaking. Even if I had been cheating—which I hadn’t—what right did they have to judge me? Ava didn’t leave. Instead, she stormed over to Claire and slapped her hard across the face. “You homewrecking bitch! Didn’t you know he has a wife?!” Reacting instantly, I shoved Ava away. “Ava, are you insane?!” Her eyes reddened with tears as she pointed a trembling finger at me. “Liam, you’re yelling at me? You’re pushing me? For her?” “Have you forgotten all the vows you made to me, the promises of forever?!” She had the audacity to bring up promises. I took a deep, steadying breath, bottling up my rage. “First,” I said, my voice cold and level, “I am not cheating. Second, this is Claire. She’s my friend from college. I came to Westport on business with her, and she’s the one who lent me the money and bought the ticket.” Ava let out a cold laugh. “College friend? You expect me to believe that?” “Believe what you want. Claire, let’s go.” I turned to leave with Claire, but Ava blocked my path. “Liam, if you dare walk away right now, I will fire you from the firm. You’ll never work there again!” Before I could answer, Claire, it seemed, had had enough. “That would be perfect,” she said sweetly, “Then Liam can officially become a partner at our firm.” She punctuated the statement by pulling out a prepared partnership agreement. Ava’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. In the next second, she grabbed the collar of my shirt, her voice a furious hiss. “Is what this woman saying true? You’re going to be a partner at her firm?!” “Liam, you’re going to jump ship over one little argument? I don’t approve!” Dylan, a smirk playing on his lips, adopted a sanctimonious tone. “Exactly, Liam. You’re a lawyer. How can you break the law yourself? You’re in breach of contract. You’ll have to pay us a fortune if you leave now.” Claire shot back instantly. “Whatever it costs, our firm will pay it!” A small smile touched my lips. “There’s nothing to pay. I never signed an employment contract with them.” “Ava,” I said, meeting her gaze, “since there’s no contract, I don’t need your approval. In fact, if I wanted to make this a legal issue, you’re the ones who…” My words were cut off by Ava’s choked cry, her eyes filled with a look of profound disappointment. “Liam, I was so wrong about you.” “If you’re so determined to leave,” she said, her voice flat, as if she were sure I wouldn’t dare, “then let’s get a divorce.” It was her favorite tactic, a weapon she’d used against me for years. In the past, I would have begged her not to. Now, I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. You can’t divorce someone you were never married to in the first place. I shook my head. A flicker of relief crossed Ava’s face, but it vanished as I pulled the two fake marriage certificates from my bag. “We were never married. How can we get a divorce?” For a split second, panic flashed in Ava’s eyes. Then, as if a dark thought occurred to her, her expression hardened.

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