I was the scholarship kid. My roommate, Mary, was the campus princess. But the moment we moved in, she insisted we become best friends. She swept me into her world of luxury, treating me to fine dining and lavish parties. She even introduced me to her childhood friend, the impossibly handsome and wealthy Wesley Thorne. But the moment Wesley and I actually got together, the princess wasn’t pleased anymore. She “accidentally” knocked over my instant ramen, claimed the splash of hot broth had scalded her, and demanded I pay for her “injuries.” After I’d emptied my bank account for her, she spread a rumor that I was a thief, that I’d stolen her new Louis Vuitton wallet. The university put me on academic probation. My classmates ostracized me. Even Wesley broke up with me. “You’re an ugly duckling who got a taste of the good life and thought she could become a swan,” he’d sneered. I had no way to defend myself. Hounded by the gossip and cyberbullying, I dropped out. My spirit shattered, I fell into a river and drowned. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in a crowded, pulsing bar, at the very moment Mary was introducing me to Wesley Thorne. 1 “Wesley, this is my absolute best friend from college, Lynn. What do you think? She’s a looker, isn’t she?” The deafening music and Mary’s teasing voice snapped me back to the present. This was it. The first time I’d ever met him. He hadn’t thought much of me then, and he didn’t now. He didn’t even bother to glance my way, just took another sip of his drink. Mary slung an arm around my shoulders, a sly grin on her face. “So, Lynn, what’s your verdict on our Wesley here?” she purred. “His family is in real estate development. We’re talking the wealthiest family in the entire state.” I lowered my head, feigning a shy, bashful smile. “He’s… impressive. I’m just going to use the restroom.” Mary was desperately in love with Wesley, yet she insisted on pushing him toward me. And Wesley, the bastard, played along, getting with me even though he couldn’t stand me. I was nothing more than a pawn in their twisted game. I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, splashing my face with cold water. Then, I reached up and took off the thick, black-rimmed glasses that hid my face. Not this time. This time, I refused to be their plaything. And who says the ugly duckling can’t become a swan? I grabbed my bag and left the bar without a word to anyone. Just as I’d expected, I found Wesley outside. He was sitting alone on a hidden bench, his head bowed as he stared at something in the dim light. In my past life, I’d been obsessed with learning everything about him, piecing together his history from the scraps Mary would feed me. Today was his birthday. It was also the anniversary of his mother’s death. Last time, the whole group had pressured me into toasting him. He’d just laughed in my face, mocking me for not knowing the difference between brandy and whiskey, before leaving me standing there alone. I reached into my bag and pulled out a small carton of strawberry milk. It was supposed to be my breakfast for tomorrow, but now, it would have to serve as a prop. “Here,” I said softly. “Drinking so much on an empty stomach is a bad idea.” Wesley shot me a cold glare. “I don’t need your pity.” I wasn’t offended. I simply set the carton down beside him. “Your mother would worry if you hurt yourself.” Then, I turned and walked away, ignoring the piercing, questioning gaze I could feel on my back. Rich kids like him and Mary would never truly see me. But in this life, I wouldn’t just make him see me. I’d make him put me in his heart. And then, I’d make him and Mary turn on each other, becoming bitter enemies. As expected, when Mary found out I’d left, she complained that I’d disappeared without a word. I fell back into my old role, flattering her and soothing her ego. I became her shadow, her servant. When she skipped class, I answered the roll call for her. When she was too lazy to get food, I delivered it right to her dorm room. When she complained the campus washing machines were filthy, I washed her designer clothes by hand, piece by piece. My other roommate muttered behind my back, calling me a pathetic lapdog. “What’s the point of all that sucking up?” she’d scoff. “It’s not like she’s going to give you a dime.” I pretended not to hear, perfecting my role as Mary’s loyal follower. My days were filled with her chores and her endless bragging. The cafeteria food was “pig slop,” she’d declare, saying her father should just buy the campus and open a proper food processing plant. Occasionally, Wesley would stop by to see her, bringing flowers, gifts, and snacks. He’d even bring a little something for me, an afterthought. Riding on Mary’s coattails, I started bringing him food, too, whenever I did a run for her. “Isn’t Wesley the best?” Mary would say, preening. “So many girls are after him. Do you like him?” I shook my head frantically, my voice full of rehearsed shyness. “How could someone like me ever hope to be with him? Besides, it’s obvious you’re the only one he really cares about.” My words hit their mark, and she beamed with satisfaction. Mary knew Wesley was crazy about her, of course, but she wasn’t ready to be tied down just yet. Soon, the annual university track and field meet would happen. She was a banner bearer for the opening ceremony parade. In my past life, she tripped on her dress, sprained her ankle, and a handsome athlete had swept her up and carried her to the infirmary. That was the day Wesley, consumed by jealousy, confessed his “feelings” to me. This time, however, on the day of the meet, I sprained my ankle first. Biting back a searing cry of pain, I limped my way across the field to deliver her makeup bag. Mary showed not a flicker of concern, only annoyance. “What took you so long? It’s just a sprain, walk it off! What if I’m late for the procession because of you?” I bowed my head and apologized, the perfect little pushover. Just then, the same well-built athlete from my memories appeared. “Hey, are you okay? Let me help you to the infirmary.” I blushed, waving him off, but nearly stumbled and fell. Without another word, he scooped me up into his arms and started carrying me off the field. Suddenly, an icy stare locked onto us. I looked up and saw Wesley. Mary, spotting him, called out in a delighted voice, “Wesley! Don’t I look beautiful today?” He didn’t answer her. His eyes were fixed on me. “Put her down,” he commanded the athlete. “I’ll take her.” Mary’s smile vanished. “Wesley, what are you doing? The procession is about to start!” “It’s okay, really!” I interjected quickly. “This student can take me. Don’t let me hold Mary up.” In the infirmary, the school nurse said the sprain was pretty bad and I needed to stay off my feet for a while. I thanked the athlete, finally learning his name was Thomas. Thomas started to leave but hesitated at the door and turned back. “Hey, uh… can I get your number? You know, in case you need help with anything.” I stared at his bright red ears, a little confused. Not long after, Mary was carried in, just as I knew she would be. Wesley brought her himself, his face a thundercloud. She looked like a fallen princess in her long, gauzy dress, with him as her grim-faced knight. Thomas returned with an ice pack, freezing in his tracks when he saw the two of them. Mary was wailing in pain. The nurse said she needed to ice it immediately. Without a second thought, Mary pointed at Thomas. “Give that to me. Now.” Playing my part, I said in a small, weak voice, “Give it to Mary first. I can get another one later.” Thomas looked annoyed, but he handed it over. “Okay, then I’ll take you back to your dorm first. I can buy you another one.” “Lynn, don’t you have hands of your own?” Wesley’s voice was sharp, dripping with disdain. “Why do you always need someone to run around after you?” But then, to everyone’s shock, he snatched the ice pack from Mary’s hand and knelt, pressing it gently against my swollen ankle. Mary’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Wesley! I was using that! What are you doing?” He ignored her, his gaze lifting to meet mine. “Lynn, you like me, don’t you? Let’s be together.” I masked the cold fury in my eyes with a look of pure astonishment. Wesley wouldn’t fall for me this easily. This was just a game to make Mary jealous. I didn’t agree right away. I stammered, my voice trembling with fake nervousness, “I… I never said I liked you.” Then I fled, scrambling back to the dorm. Mary’s attitude towards me had flipped 180 degrees. She greeted me with a voice full of acid. “Well, well. I had no idea you were so good at seducing men. Hooking up with Wesley Thorne… you’ve really hit the jackpot, haven’t you?” I kept my head down. “It’s not like that.” “Oh, stop pretending!” she spat. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a crush on him. I’ve seen girls like you a million times. Always trying to climb the social ladder, without a thought as to whether you even belong there. Even if he likes you, his family would never, ever approve of you!” This isn’t nearly enough, I thought to myself. I want more than just his affection. Wesley actually began to pursue me. He’d wait for me in the mornings to walk me to class, have lunch with me, and ask me out for evening strolls. With my sprained ankle as an excuse, I stopped being Mary’s errand girl. The dorm grew quiet, with no one talking to either of us. Eventually, she couldn’t stand it and moved into an off-campus apartment. Slowly, in everyone else’s eyes, it seemed I had genuinely fallen for Wesley. I’d blush when I saw him. I’d give him small, handmade gifts. I’d even share a portion of the food I bought with the money from my part-time job. I sent him ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts, sharing little details of my day, whether he replied or not. I ditched the clunky glasses, let my hair grow out, and though my clothes were simple, I had to admit, the girl in the mirror was becoming quite pretty. And gradually, I felt the way Wesley looked at me begin to change. He’d lean in close just to see me blush. He’d steal a kiss under a shared umbrella on a rainy day. We started to feel like a real couple. Until the night Mary got drunk. She burst into my dorm room and swiped the cup of ramen I was eating off my desk. I jumped back just in time, but the hot broth splashed across her own wrist. Even though she shook it off instantly, a painful red mark bloomed on her skin. She glared at me, her teeth clenched. “Lynn, I thought you were my friend, and you go and seduce Wesley behind my back? You’re such a pathetic bitch!” I maintained my innocent facade. “Seduce? Were you two officially together?” Mary fell silent for a beat, then pointed a trembling finger at me. “You just wait,” she hissed. “Do you really think Wesley Thorne would ever fall for someone like you? He’s just playing with you.” So am I, I thought. And I’ve already gotten what I wanted. A breakup is no big deal. Just as before, Wesley came to put me in my place for Mary’s sake. He dragged me into a private room at an exclusive club, filled with his circle of wealthy friends. “Just be reasonable, Lynn,” Wesley said, his voice low. “Mary’s never been hurt a day in her life. This happened because of you.” Mary stood with her arms crossed, a smug smirk on her face. “Make her apologize? Oh, I wouldn’t dare. She’s your precious girlfriend now, isn’t she, Wesley?” He sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Are you still jealous about this? You’re the one who introduced her to me.” Mary pointed to a line of full shot glasses on the table. “Fine. If you’re really sorry, drink this entire row of tequila, and I’ll forgive you.” Wesley didn’t object. He picked up a glass himself and held it out to me. “A whole row is too much. Just this one.” I took the glass from his hand. But then, with a flick of my wrist, I poured the contents onto the floor. “I’m not drinking a single drop.” In my past life, my frantic explanations were met only with laughter. They didn’t care about the truth; they just wanted a show. I was the ugly duckling, the toad lusting after a swan. I was, in short, not one of them. I’d been forced to drink the entire row and ended up vomiting right there. Mary had pinched her nose in disgust while Wesley had someone throw me out. This time, after emptying the glass, I slammed it back down on the table. The sharp clatter silenced the room. I stated my case, once and only once. “You got burned because you deliberately knocked over my food. You deserved it.” Mary shrieked, jumping to her feet. “Who deserved it? What happened to the timid little mouse? Finally dropping the act, huh? I knew you were a manipulative bitch all along!” she screamed. “I’m telling you, if you don’t drink this row and apologize right now, I’ll have you kicked out of this university by tomorrow!” Wesley frowned, shooting me a disapproving look. “Lynn, did you forget what I said? It’s just an apology. Why make this so difficult?” A small, sarcastic smile touched my lips. “I did nothing wrong. I am not apologizing.” He hadn’t expected this defiance. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes boring into mine. “What if I make you apologize?” I gritted my teeth and wrenched my arm free. “Then we’re breaking up.” Wesley’s face darkened instantly. Mary jumped in, a triumphant sneer on her face. “Lynn, do you really think you’re all that? Wesley was just toying with you! If anyone’s doing the dumping, it’s him!” But Wesley took a step toward me, his voice low and dangerous. “Break up with me? You don’t have that right.” “Whether I do or not isn’t for you to decide.” I turned my back on him and walked out, without a single glance behind me.

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As I walked out of prison, the officer clapped me on the shoulder. “Go on, kid. Go out there and live a good life.” Outside the gates, my parents were waiting with a bouquet of flowers and a box of my favorite pastries. I ran into their arms. My mother wiped away a tear, her eyes filled with pain. “Oh, my girl. You’ve suffered so much.” One week later, at my birthday party, I took an axe and chopped off my father’s head. Then I hacked off my mother’s limbs. Finally, I pressed a towel over the face of my little brother, the one I had doted on for nine years, and held him in my arms until he suffocated. When it was all done, I washed the blood from my hands. Then I called the officer who had released me. “Sorry to trouble you, but you’ll have to come and get me again.” 1 I put down the phone and sat quietly on the sofa, taking a deep breath of the metallic air. There was so much blood. It was still seeping from my parents’ bodies. My little brother, on the other hand, had gone peacefully. His face was still, expressionless. I dragged my father’s head over and set it in front of me. The agony on his face was plain to see. I looked at it, and a laugh escaped my lips. Compared to my father, my mother’s face was a mask of pure terror when she died. Thinking of it, I glanced down at my pants. They were stained with the marks of her struggle. As I was reveling in the brutal aftermath of my own creation, the door burst open. The young officers who entered gasped in horror. But the older one, Detective Miles, just stared at me, his face a storm of fury. “You… why would you do this?” The floor was a sea of blood; they had nowhere to step. The commotion brought our neighbors poking their heads out of their doors. I smiled at Detective Miles. “Sir, you’re finally here.” I held out my hands. “I’ve killed them. You can take me in now.” The moment the words left my mouth, two officers slammed me to the ground. My face pressed against the sticky, bloody floor. The smell was so thick it made me want to gag. Then, the cold, familiar touch of handcuffs on my wrists. Detective Miles’s eyes were filled with a deep, sorrowful disbelief. “Why?” he asked, his voice raw. “Why would you do this? They were your parents!” His voice cracked, and tears welled in his eyes. He looked at me with overwhelming disappointment. “I was wrong about you. I was so wrong.” “Someone like you… you don’t deserve any sympathy.” “Take her away!” I was hauled out the door as a team of forensics experts swarmed the apartment. “Abby, you killed them?” my next-door neighbor asked, her eyes wide with terror, as if I were some kind of wild animal. I smiled at her. “All three of them. Mom, Dad, and my little brother.” Her face went white. The other onlookers in the hallway heard me, and whispers erupted. “She’s a psycho! She killed her whole family!” “That girl is sick in the head.” “Yeah, I heard her mom say she was in prison. She just got out a few days ago.” “God, what a tragedy for that family.” Detective Miles, following behind me, waved his hand in frustration. “Everyone, back in your homes. You’ll be questioned later. What are you looking at? This isn’t a marketplace; it’s a crime scene!” I was back in a familiar place. In the interrogation room, Detective Miles no longer looked at me with any kindness. The last time I was here was six months ago. I remembered him clearly. He had put a hand on my shoulder and said, “You’re a brave kid. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t stay in there for long.” He had kept his word. I was out in just six months. He probably never imagined that the person he worked so hard to free would be brought back in by his own hand. “Abigail Wu,” he began, his voice hard. “Tell me. Why did you kill them?” He slammed his hand on the table, and for a second, I thought it would splinter. “They were your parents! Your own flesh and blood!” “And your brother… he was so young! How could you do it?” His voice choked up at the end. I just shook my head, showing no remorse. “Because they all deserved to die.” “My brother… he should never have been born.” My words enraged every officer in the room. Detective Miles swore under his breath. “What the hell are you talking about?” he roared. “Your parents were so good to you! How could you be so cruel?” “Do you even have a shred of humanity?” He leaned across the table, his face just inches from mine, his spittle hitting my cheek as he yelled. Another officer tried to intervene. “Miles, maybe you should take a break. Let someone else handle this.” He shoved the officer’s hand away, his eyes locked on mine. “No. I’m interrogating her myself.” He sat back down, and I could hear the tremor in his voice. “Tell me what happened today.” I smiled and began to speak slowly. “Today was my birthday. My parents were so happy. They cooked so much food. And my brother… he gave me a gift he made himself. I was so touched.” 2 In the week after my release, my family had been incredibly kind. My mom showered me with food and gifts. My dad promised to buy me a house as a “welcome home” present. Even my usually bratty little brother was sweet, hugging me and saying, “I missed you so much, sis.” They deferred to me on everything, even asking me how I wanted to celebrate my birthday. “Abby, do you want to go out with friends or celebrate at home with us?” I was so happy to feel valued again. “Of course, I want to be at home with you guys.” My dad declared a company-wide holiday. “I’m staying home to celebrate my daughter’s birthday!” Mom was in the kitchen, my brother was studying in his room. We were a happy family. “Mom, let me cook the fish today,” I offered. She beamed, her eyes crinkling. “My Abby is all grown up now!” I took the apron from her and started cooking. I used to love cooking before… before I went away. After my return, everyone had unspokenly avoided the topic, afraid of reopening old wounds. My mom took out her phone, documenting the moment. “Look at our Abby, such a good cook.” I playfully covered my face. “Mom, are you posting this on Facebook again?” She pulled my hand away, her voice full of pride. “Of course! I have to show off my amazing daughter.” In her eyes, no matter how badly I did in school, I was always her greatest source of pride. “You’re not worried people will laugh?” I teased. Before she could reply, my dad came home. “Who’s talking about my daughter?” he boomed, patting his belly. “My girl is brilliant! I’d like to see anyone dare say otherwise.” My brother ran out, shouting, “My sister is the best sister in the world!” At the dinner table, my dad pulled out a deed to a house. “Abby, I’m getting old. This house… it’s for your security.” He handed it to me. My mom then produced an exquisite jade bracelet and slipped it onto my wrist. I hugged them both, tears of gratitude streaming down my face. Not to be outdone, my brother presented his handmade gift. “Sis! Me too! I don’t have money, but I made this myself!” He shot a glare at my dad. “It’s all their fault for not giving me an allowance! Otherwise, I could have bought you something nice!” My dad put on a stern face. “Tough love for boys, spoils for girls! You study hard! One day, you’ll have to take care of your sister.” During dinner, I pointed to the Szechuan fish. “I made that.” The three of them eagerly dug in. “My daughter’s cooking is the best!” “I’m such a lucky man. My daughter is so wonderful.” After dinner, just as my mom was about to get me a napkin, she collapsed. My dad panicked, but a moment later, he too fell unconscious. My little brother was already slumped over the table, unresponsive. I called their names. When there was no answer, I went straight to the balcony and got the axe. 3 The sharp pain woke my father. He begged me to stop, but I felt no mercy. I brought the axe down again and again. My mother was jolted awake by her own agony. She tried to scream, but I muffled her mouth. At one point, our neighbor heard the noise and knocked on the door. I made up a quick excuse and sent them away. When it came to my brother, I didn’t hesitate. But I did feel a flicker of pity. I didn’t use the axe. I chose a gentler way for him to leave this world. When I was done, I was drenched in sweat. I ripped up the deed my father had given me and flushed it down the toilet. The jade bracelet from my mother had shattered when I was moving her body and hit it against a table. The handmade letter from my brother? I stuffed it in his mouth. Even the flowers my parents had brought me on my release day were spattered with blood. For a moment, all I could see was red. When I finished my story, I was shaking with laughter. Detective Miles was speechless. His lips trembled. “Why?” he finally managed. “Why would you do it? Abigail, why?” My smile vanished. I scoffed. “Because they all deserved to die.” Growing up, I was spoiled rotten, a princess in a candy-coated castle. I had more dresses than any other girl had pants. I had three closets in our house, and two walk-in closets in our villa we barely used. Still, my mother always thought I needed more clothes. They always told me, “Grades don’t matter. Your happiness is what’s important.” Because of that, I could be last in my class and never get scolded. My dad would even encourage me to play longer with my friends. “We have money. You can do whatever you want.” I tried countless hobbies and quit them all. I couldn’t handle hardship, and my parents couldn’t bear to see me suffer. My childhood was a blur of fun and games. Until my brother was born. Then, my mother changed. She wouldn’t let me near him, saying I would hurt him. I didn’t understand. “He’s my brother, my family. Why would I hurt him?” I would cry. She never explained. My dad would pull me aside and tell me, “Your mom is sick. Postpartum depression. She’ll get better.” He said she was just being overprotective. I believed him. To help her “get better,” I doted on my brother, spending all my allowance and savings on toys for him. And it worked. Seeing how much I loved him, my mother’s “illness” seemed to fade. But they were different with him. They were strict. If his grades were bad, he was punished. If he was too rowdy, he was punished. He would often complain that they were playing favorites. My dad would hit him again and say, “You want to be compared to your sister? She’s our sweet girl. You’re just a leather jacket, nothing but trouble.” My mom and I would often have to step in when it got too rough. Detective Miles listened to all this, then fell silent. “So, just because of that, you killed them?” I shook my head. “Of course not.” He seemed to understand something. “You hate them for sending you to prison?”

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I flew back to the States for my adopted daughter’s wedding, the suit already picked out and waiting. But a former high school classmate recognized me and pointed, his voice loud with ridicule. “Well, if it isn’t our class copycat. In high school, you wore whatever Adrian Prescott wore. Can’t break the habit, can you? Look at you, wearing a suit just like his. Do you even know what kind of event this is?” Adrian offered a phony apology, but his eyes were laced with venom. “Sorry, Victor. I put up with you mimicking my style back then, but today is my wedding day. I’m really not in the mood to indulge your little copycat routine anymore.” He egged on his cronies, who then proceeded to try and strip me naked in front of everyone. I tried to fight back, but he slapped me so hard I hit the floor. Staring at his face, alight with vicious excitement, I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a cold, silent laugh. I’d tolerated it when he copied me, then twisted the truth to accuse me of being the mimic. But this time? This time, I was his future father-in-law. And if I let him marry into my family after this, then I’ve already lost. 1 The moment my plane landed, I rushed to the hotel to change into the suit the household staff had prepared for me—the suit for the father of the bride. Today was my adopted daughter’s wedding. I say “adopted daughter,” but in reality, I’m only three years older than her. My seniority in the family is high. When Alexa’s parents passed away, she was brought into our family. The Vaughn family rules are strict, and after tracing the lines of the family tree, it turned out I was the only one exactly one generation above her. And so, at a young age, I became a father, with her placed under my legal guardianship. Because we were so close in age, we got along well. I took my paternal duties seriously, as laid out by the family charter, and managed to temper her wild, fearless, and somewhat spoiled nature into something more composed. Who would have thought that the tomboyish ‘princess’ of the city would now be getting married? I looked down at the exquisitely embroidered tuxedo and grimaced. At least the cut was modern. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been caught dead in it. The staff took my clothes to be laundered, and I was left alone to fix my hair. I glanced up and saw him—Adrian Prescott, my old high school classmate, basking in the glow of a fawning entourage. Their chirpy laughter was laced with flattery. Adrian soaked it all in, his smile growing wider with every compliment. But when his gaze landed on my suit, his expression instantly darkened. I felt a prickle of unease. My tuxedo was eerily similar to his, clearly the same custom design. “Well, well, who do we have here? It’s the wannabe. Still addicted to copying Adrian, huh?” “He’s too nice to call you out on it, but we’re not going to let it slide!” Many of them were old classmates. Their eyes darted to my suit, their faces twisting in contempt. One of Adrian’s closest friends pinched his nose, looking at me as if I were something foul. “Adrian’s suit was custom-made by a top designer, a gift from the princess herself. You think your cheap knockoff can compare?” “Today is Adrian’s wedding to the city’s darling, Alexa Vaughn. Were you even invited? Or did you just slither in here, dressed like that, trying to seduce someone?” My god. My own daughter was marrying Adrian Prescott. A wave of disgust washed over me. Back in high school, he was the one who copied my style, then used his popularity to flip the script and accuse me of being the mimic. I couldn’t be bothered to argue back then, more focused on my portfolio for studying abroad than on pointless drama. But the rumors festered, and I spent all of high school isolated and bullied. As much as I disliked him, he was the man Alexa loved. I had to show some decorum. I decided to just wait for their taunts to die down and then slip away. I’d get through the wedding and go home. But Adrian blocked my path, stepping hard on the toe of my shoe. A sharp pain shot up my leg. He feigned surprise and moved his foot, his face a mask of innocence. “Look, Victor, today is my big day. Just take off the suit, okay? Don’t try to upstage me by wearing the same thing.” “After today, you can copy me all you want. I won’t mind a little thing like that.” 2 I stared at him, incredulous. This was a father-of-the-bride tuxedo. It was understated and formal, just a bit more modern than the usual fare. It was nothing like Adrian’s flashy groom’s tuxedo. Besides, his face was a work of art, sculpted by a celebrity makeup artist. He was clearly the center of attention. How could I possibly upstage him? I frowned, not wanting to waste my breath. “This is the father-of-the-bride’s suit. It would be inappropriate to take it off.” I tried to walk away, but in the next second, Adrian grabbed my arm. His eyes were red-rimmed as he began to tear at my clothes. “You all heard him! He admitted it’s a formal suit! He’s doing this on purpose!” he cried out. “Normally, I’d let it go, but this is my wedding day! How can I be expected to tolerate this humiliation?” As he ripped at my collar, he deliberately dug his sharp nails into my neck. Blood welled instantly, and I cried out in pain. Seeing the blood, his eyes grew even redder. He pushed me back into the crowd, shaking his head in feigned panic. “I didn’t mean to! It’s your fault for wearing this suit!” “My fiancée had this made for me! It’s deeply meaningful, and I won’t let anyone defile it!” He looked so heartbroken that his pack of sycophants swelled with righteous anger. His groomsmen immediately grabbed my arms, pinning me as they continued to rip at my collar, their eyes glinting with malice. “Adrian, don’t dirty your hands on this trash. This animal probably only owns two nice things. Touching him will just bring you bad luck.” “Let’s strip this bastard and see what kind of cheap crap he’s really wearing. How dare he copy you?” “Someone strong, come help! The little bitch is trying to fight back!” Before I could react, an arm snaked around my neck, choking me until the world started to go black. My limbs went weak, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t fight off the countless hands clawing at me. Tears of pure physical pain streamed from my eyes. “I’m… I’m Alexa’s father, agh—” Before I could finish, a fresh gash appeared on my mouth. The mob’s insults drowned out my words as they tore the suit from my body, leaving me curled on the cold floor, covered in wounds. They presented the tattered remains of my suit to Adrian like a trophy. He didn’t even glance at it. His eyes were locked on me. One of the guys holding me down saw I was still trying to speak and slapped me hard across the face. My cheek swelled instantly, a fiery pain shooting through my skull. Before I could recover, another slap landed on the other side. “There,” a voice sneered in my ear. “Made you symmetrical. You should thank me.” The room spun. Through the haze, I heard Adrian’s fake sobs. “Thank you, everyone. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this filth on such a happy day. It’s my fault for being too lenient with him in the past.” “He’s an old classmate, after all. With all those scars, what woman would ever want him? Not like me. I’m about to marry into the Vaughn family. I’ll be set for life.” He then picked up a nearby bottle of Macallan and, raising it high, poured it all over me. “Might as well use this. A little alcohol to disinfect Victor’s wounds.” He saw me gasp in agony and his eyes curved into a sickeningly sweet smile. “Don’t worry,” he said, feigning thoughtfulness. “I know this is too expensive for you to ever drink, but it’s my wedding. I can do whatever I want with it.” The autumn air was cool. Stripped to my underwear, I shivered violently, hugging myself like a fish left to die on the sand. The crowd, seeing this, seemed to take it as encouragement. They started grabbing bottles from the tables. “Great idea, Adrian! Let me try! I wonder how well this ‘82 Lafite disinfects.” Red wine streamed down my face, mixing with the blood from my cuts, a disgusting cocktail that dripped from my chin. “Hey, don’t you dare lick any of that. It’s mixed with your blood. How gross.” Their eyes were filled with malice and disgust. They laughed and joked, studying my pained expressions and describing them in detail for Adrian’s amusement. I couldn’t speak. Opening my mouth only earned me another slap. The alcohol on my open wounds felt like being rolled over hot steel. The pain was so intense it was becoming numb. I tried to stand, to escape this hell, but I just kept collapsing pathetically to the floor, triggering roars of laughter. “Trying to run? Not so fast. We gave you a chance earlier. You blew it.” He loomed over me, grinding the sole of his leather shoe into my fingers, listening with satisfaction to my weak whimpers of pain. Suddenly, someone hissed, “Isabelle’s here!”

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1 A little over a year ago, my boyfriend of seven years suddenly announced his engagement to my best friend, Nina. While everyone waited for me to go on a warpath and tear the other woman apart, Gary Rockefeller, one of Manhattan’s most powerful CEOs, swept into my life with a whirlwind romance. Before long, I had willingly given up my career, my ambitions, everything, to marry him and become the enviable Mrs. Rockefeller. I was six months pregnant when I heard it all. I overheard his phone call with his father. “You went to all that trouble to get Nina’s biggest rival—both in love and her career—out of the picture by getting her pregnant and forcing her into retirement. Elara’s almost due now. You’ve done more than enough for Nina over the years. Surely, you’re going to let her keep the child.” Gary’s voice was cold, decisive. “I will not have a child with any woman other than Nina.” My world turned to ash. All the passion, all the love—it was a performance. I was nothing but a pawn in their twisted, lingering affair. Fine. I’ll give you what you want… … I lay on the cold operating table, the medication inducing contractions that tore through me, an agony that felt like death itself. The doctor was performing the D&C, cleaning my womb. My stomach felt like it was filled with poison, and my entire body trembled uncontrollably. “The fetus has been removed.” After the procedure, my breasts began to leak milk, an involuntary, cruel reminder. The sight of the tiny, discarded form broke me completely. Six months. You could already see the faint, perfect outline of a baby. So lovely, so innocent. My belly was empty, a hollow ache, but my body couldn’t forget the life it had carried. This was the child Gary had begged for, his voice a husky whisper against my ear night after night for half a year. He would always say, “Elara… I love you so much… Please, give me a child…” After I got pregnant, Gary was consumed by work. I was left alone, filled with a fragile joy, attending every prenatal appointment, drinking bitter tonics daily to protect a pregnancy my family history deemed high-risk. I wanted this baby more than anything in the world. There’s a genetic condition in my family that makes childbirth perilous. The day the test results came back showing the baby was perfectly healthy, I was ecstatic. I thought Gary would be just as thrilled. I rarely went up to the attic, his private office. But that day, the door was ajar. I crept toward it, planning to surprise him. Instead, I heard his father’s voice on the phone. “You went to all that trouble to get Nina’s biggest rival… by getting her pregnant and forcing her into retirement. Elara’s almost due now. You’ve done more than enough for Nina… Surely, you’re going to let her keep the child.” The words struck me like a bolt of lightning. Before I could even process the pain, I heard Gary’s chillingly calm reply. “I’ll slip something into her prenatal tonic. She’ll miscarry.” “I cannot, and will not, have a child with any woman other than Nina.” That single sentence shattered the entire illusion. In an instant, his vows of undying love became a cruel joke, the designer dress on my back a symbol of my own foolishness. All of it—the whirlwind romance, the grand gestures—it was all just a scheme to keep me from competing with Nina for her ex-boyfriend, to push me out of the race for the top spot in the design world. I collapsed to the floor, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened to tear out of my throat. I remembered what I’d seen in his study once. An entire wall, covered in photos of my “best friend,” Nina. The world thought Gary Rockefeller doted on me, treated me like a precious gem, would move mountains for me. But on that wall he stared at day after day, there wasn’t a single picture of me. The irony was so bitter it felt like a joke. Tears streamed down my face. Gary, are you trying to kill me with this pain? When I returned from the clinic, Gary was waiting for me at the door. He saw me and, without missing a beat, leaned in to place a tender kiss on my cheek. “You’re back late. Where have you been wandering?” Where he couldn’t see, I wiped the spot his lips had touched. The moment I stepped inside, the strong scent of a brewed herbal tonic filled the air. It smelled different from my usual one. Gary was always so busy; I was the one who diligently prepared and drank the bitter medicine every day to ensure our child’s survival. Today was the first time he’d come home early to make it for me. His words to his father echoed in my mind: I’ll slip something into her prenatal tonic. He brought the bowl to me, his eyes soft with feigned affection. But the faint scent of a woman’s perfume on his collar—Nina’s perfume—and the glint of the same style of bracelet she always wore on his wrist were like daggers to my eyes. I tilted my head back and drank the sweetened poison down in one gulp. The sweetness lingered on my tongue, but the bitterness that slid down my throat made my entire body shake. A strange sense of humiliation washed over me, even though I had already taken matters into my own hands. I was a clown, a puppet dancing on his strings, pathetic and broken. Gary’s gaze dropped to my stomach, his voice laced with that same false tenderness. “When our son is born, he’ll inherit everything, how about that?” A sour knot formed in my chest. Would you ever let him be born? A desperate, foolish part of me still hoped for a flicker of remorse, a sliver of mercy. But as the last drop of the tonic settled in my stomach, so did the last of my hope. It died, leaving only a cold, gray emptiness. 2 Today was the day of Nina’s return. As the new lead designer for Rockefeller Industries, the company was throwing her a lavish welcome-back gala. Gary had been getting ready for hours, preening in his suit, checking his reflection in the mirror a dozen times. I pretended not to notice his giddy excitement. Before he left, he kissed my cheek. “Just a few contracts to sign at the office this morning.” As Mrs. Rockefeller, my attendance was expected. I went to my closet, but as I searched for something to wear, a sickening realization dawned on me. I didn’t own a single piece of clothing that was truly mine. Last night, out of morbid curiosity, I’d scrolled through Nina’s social media. I discovered my entire wardrobe consisted of duplicates of her outfits. Gary had been buying them for her and simply picking up a second one for me on the side. I opened my jewelry box. My favorite piece, a stunning pigeon’s blood ruby necklace, was gone. It was the necklace Gary had bought for me at auction for a hundred million dollars when he was courting me. But even that, I now realized, was just another move on his chessboard, another piece of his strategy to pave the way for Nina. When Nina made her entrance, reporters swarmed her, mistaking her for the lady of the house. “That pigeon’s blood ruby is exquisite! Mr. Rockefeller must adore you; a hundred-million-dollar necklace is no small gesture.” I stared at the ruby glowing at her throat, a blood-red splash against her skin. So that’s where he had rushed off to this morning. To play the devoted admirer for her. Nina, radiant in a red gown, spotted me and waved. “Mrs. Rockefeller.” She glided over, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Enjoying your life as a housewife?” “Do you know why I’ve become such a sensation abroad these past few years?” The moment she stole my fiancé, Mark, any friendship between us had shattered. Now, with an air of smug superiority, she pulled a design portfolio from her clutch and handed it to me as if bestowing a great charity. I flipped it open, and the world tilted on its axis. Ninety percent of the designs in it were mine. Some were slightly altered, others were copied verbatim. I was still reeling, wondering how she could be so brazen, when she twisted the knife. With a playful smirk, she showed me her phone, scrolling through her chat history with Gary. Gary: These are from the design files she keeps on my laptop. She’s retired now anyway, so it’s not like she’ll be using them. Don’t worry about plagiarism; I’ve already deleted the original files from her computer. My laptop. Gary knew the password. I remembered the day I discovered those files were gone. I’d cried for three days straight. Gary had shown no pity then, and now I knew why. My hands shook as I messaged him. Why are my designs in Nina’s portfolio? His reply came as a sixty-second voice memo, his tone impatient and dismissive. Those drafts were just sitting there, useless. What’s the harm in letting her use them to build her reputation and bring more profit to the company? Elara, why are you still so obsessed with your career? We’ve been married for ages. Can’t you just be content staying at home, taking care of the family? Isn’t this a good life? The Rockefeller family doesn’t need the pocket change you’d earn. You love Nina so much, why didn’t you just lock her away and protect her yourself? What did I have left? Nina watched my face crumble, a mocking smile playing on her lips. Even though I already knew the marriage was a sham to force my retirement, seeing the proof—that the man I loved had casually handed years of my heart and soul to another woman—was unbearable. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles, a hopeless, searing pain.

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On our engagement eve, my fiancée Lily bankrupted my family and fled with Jeff. Creditors drove my parents to suicide. Seeking justice, I confronted the Grants—only to be drugged and sold in an elite poker game. A dozen men filmed my humiliation, breaking me completely. As I prepared to jump, Lily’s sister Claire saved me. She destroyed my tormentors, claimed she’d loved me for years, and married me in a lavish ceremony, cutting ties with her family. Five years later, I stood on that same yacht—and overheard Claire’s plan: “Jeff’s child alone will inherit. Ensure Ken can never father one. Same men as before—don’t hold back.” My salvation was hell. My love, a lie. Very well. She’ll get her wish. 1 On the deck, Claire stood against the sea breeze, her voice laced with a tragic, theatrical sorrow. “Since Jeff has already chosen my sister, the only thing I can do is clear the way for them. Bankrupting the Kauffman family was just the first step. Think of their company’s assets as my wedding gift to them.” She added, with a dismissive wave, “Ken is tainted goods now. He’s not fit to climb into my bed.” Her friend, Cici, frowned, a look of genuine pity on her face. “But you were the one who hired those men to drag him into that cabin five years ago. You know he’s been battling severe depression because of it. You’ve been with him through every therapy session. He’s a man, Claire. To be violated by other men, and now you want to put him through it again? How is he supposed to live with himself after this?” Claire’s expression hardened. “He’ll live. I’ll just have to comfort him through the therapy again.” “I promised Jeff that Ken would never be a threat to him. The only way to ensure that is to completely shatter his pride as a man.” “And what about Ken? Does he deserve to be manipulated like this? He’s innocent! He loves you so much, how could you—” “Enough,” Claire snapped, her voice like ice. “Just do as I said. It’s his own fault for being in the way.” “Give me the pills. I need to go watch him take them myself.” Seeing she couldn’t be reasoned with, Cici turned and walked away, a tear escaping her eye and vanishing into the night wind. I hugged myself, a violent tremor wracking my body. Five years ago. Lily bankrupted my family, taking all our money to start a new life with Jeff abroad. My parents, cornered by debt collectors, saw no way out but to jump. I went to the Grant estate alone, a boy demanding justice from giants. They drugged me and delivered me to this very yacht. A plaything in a dark game for the rich. A dozen men dragged me into a cabin, their jeers and the flash of their cameras burning into my memory. When it was over, I crawled onto the deck, ready to end it all in the cold, dark water. That’s when Claire appeared, pulling me into her arms. She was my only warmth in a frozen world. She gently wiped away my tears and the blood. “Wait for me,” she whispered. “Every person who hurt you… I won’t let a single one get away.” That night, the yacht was filled with screams. The trauma left its mark. I was plagued by night terrors, waking up drenched in sweat. And every time, she was there, stroking my back, whispering reassurances. She said she couldn’t control Lily, but she would repay Lily’s debt to me a hundred times over. To give me the wedding of my dreams, she broke away from her powerful family, declaring her love for me to the world. But it was all a mirage. Five years of happiness built on a foundation of lies. The one who pulled me from the abyss was the same one who pushed me into hell. I stumbled back to our cabin. Seeing my pale face, Claire’s eyes filled with alarm. She rushed to me, pulling me into that familiar, practiced embrace, patting my back gently. “Ken? What is it? Are you remembering things again? Don’t be afraid. I’m with you this time. Those men won’t ever hurt you again.” She held up a glass of water. “I had the doctor prepare your medication before we boarded. Drink it before the water gets cold.” I looked into her deceptively gentle eyes. “Claire,” I said softly, “I don’t want the medication anymore.” “I’m better now. I want to go home.” The warmth in her eyes chilled by a few degrees. She tugged at my arm, her voice a saccharine-sweet pout. “Come on, Ken, be good. Psychological issues can relapse so easily. The medicine will help you recover faster.” “Drink this, and the nightmares will go away.” Before I could protest, she had already pushed the pills into my mouth. The warm water went down, but a profound chill spread through my body. Certain I would soon be unconscious, Claire didn’t linger. She turned and hurried out of the cabin. I knew where she was going. To meet the men from five years ago. Shattered, nightmarish memories flooded my mind. A cold sweat broke out across my skin, and I collapsed onto the floor, writhing in silent agony. As my consciousness faded, I felt a warm kiss on my forehead. “Shh, Ken. It’ll be over soon. I’ll be waiting for you.” Then came the pain. A searing, tearing pain. Blood pooled beneath me. The horrifyingly familiar sensation of coarse, brutal hands on my skin enveloped me. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard Claire’s voice again, sharp and clinical. “Is he broken?” “He’s broken, Ms. Grant. But… they didn’t stop in time. I think they might have… gone too far. He probably won’t be able to… you know… ever again.” “Excellent. Double your fee. You can collect it when you disembark.” When I opened my eyes again, five hours had passed. Claire was holding my hand tightly, her eyes overflowing with anguish. “I’m so sorry… Ken. I failed to protect you.” “It was those men from five years ago. They heard you were here and came for revenge. You’re badly injured… the doctor said… you won’t be able to have intercourse anymore…” “But don’t worry,” she choked out, tears streaming down her face. “I’ve dealt with them for good this time. They’ll never appear again. Please don’t cry. No matter what happens, I’ll be by your side. We don’t need to do… that. I just need you.” I stared blankly at the ceiling, too numb to even feel the pain. I was the one who had been violated. Yet she was crying harder than I was. Her performance was flawless. And I was done being her audience. After a long moment, when her sobs subsided, I spoke, my voice a hollow rasp. “You must be tired… getting revenge for me.” “You should rest, Claire. I’m fine.” She seemed relieved by my lack of hysterics, closing her eyes and lying down beside me. Soon, her breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. Silently, I reached for her phone. In five years of marriage, this was the first time I had ever unlocked it. The password was Jeff’s birthday. Her messaging app was still open. There was only one contact pinned to the top. Jeff. I clicked on it. Their chat history stretched back five years. Not a single day missed their “good morning” and “good night” messages. Though Jeff was on the other side of the world, he sent Claire updates on his entire day. A picture of him shopping, drinking coffee, a selfie from a board meeting. Whatever he sent, Claire responded with enthusiasm and money. A single photo could earn him a ten-thousand-dollar reward. This was how she had remained a part of his life, one photo, one transfer at a time, until thousands of pictures filled a dedicated album. In contrast, whenever I tried to share something from my day, her reply was always the same: “Ken, I’m in a meeting. We’ll talk when I get off work.” To keep Jeff happy, she moved heaven and earth to get him gifts from exclusive auctions in Europe, shipping them across continents. The order history was a dizzying list spanning dozens of pages. I recognized a few of the brands. Claire had given me a gift from one of them once. It had been the freebie that came with Jeff’s purchase. The newest file in her photo album was a video, uploaded five hours ago. The thumbnail was a picture of me, unconscious after being drugged. Standing over me were a dozen familiar, leering faces. My hand trembled so violently I couldn’t press play. With a surge of cold fury, I deleted the video and closed her phone. Claire, if our beginning was a lie, then let me be the one to end it with another. Without hesitation, I messaged my friend, Mark, telling him to have a lifeboat waiting for me on the other side of the yacht tomorrow night. Then, I found a divorce agreement online, downloaded it, and attached it to a new email. Just as I finished, Claire stirred in her sleep, her forehead beaded with sweat. “Ken… no, you can’t…” she mumbled, her voice thick with panic. “Ken!” She shot awake, grabbing me and pulling me into a desperate hug, as if she had just gotten me back from the dead. Our chests were pressed together, but her heart and mine beat to two entirely different rhythms. After a moment, she seemed to pull herself back from the nightmare. “Thank God you’re okay.” This scene had played out countless times. I used to think it was a testament to her deep love, that she felt my pain as her own. Now, I saw it for what it was: a hollow, masterful performance. I let my head fall against her shoulder, allowing her to “comfort” me. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll go get you some food. Wait for me.” The moment Claire left, I followed. She didn’t go to the restaurant. She went to a private suite on a lower deck. As she reached the door, a strong arm shot out, wrapped around her shoulders, and pulled her inside. I stood outside the door, listening as the sounds of breathing inside grew heavy and ragged. “Finally decide to come back?” Claire’s voice was a strained whisper. Jeff laughed, a cocky, arrogant sound. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. “If I didn’t, I was afraid you’d actually fall for Ken.” “I hear you pulled the same trick again? After five years of marriage… leaving your husband impotent for life because of the ‘trauma.’ You’re really something else, Claire…” he taunted. “If Ken ever found out, he’d probably want to skin me alive.” Claire let out a small laugh, pulling him closer, her back against the door. “I told you, as long as I’m here, no one will ever touch you.” “Your happiness is all that matters. I’ll pave your path with his bones.” A passing crew member saw me and gasped. “Mr. Kauffman? What are you doing here? You’re not well, you shouldn’t be wandering around. If Ms. Grant finds out, we’ll be in so much trouble!” “Let me help you back to your room.” His words drew the attention of nearby guests, their eyes landing on me with open scorn. “Is that Claire Grant’s kept man? The one who just got dragged into a cabin by a dozen guys? I heard this is the second time it’s happened. Ms. Grant must have a strong stomach to put up with that.” “Twice? It’s way more than that. A dozen guys each time? Her husband’s been with more men than a porn star! She must be blind to have picked a guy like that. Imagine sleeping next to him at night, you’d probably puke.” “Who knows if he was forced or if he liked it? Probably not a saint himself. I mean, on a yacht this big, why is he the only one always getting into trouble? He looks decent enough, but turns out he’s a switch-hitter who plays for both teams. How disgusting.” … The words hit me like physical blows. My legs felt weak, and I nearly collapsed. Claire heard the commotion and opened the door to see the scene unfolding. Her face went white. She lunged forward, catching me just as my knees gave out. “Ken? What are you doing here?” “Are you feeling alright? Let’s get you back to the room.” I said nothing, my gaze fixed on Jeff, who stood just behind her. Fearing I’d seen him, Claire quickly explained, “Don’t get the wrong idea. Jeff just got back in the country. I just happened to run into him.” “It’s been five years since… that incident. He was afraid you’d be angry, so he stayed abroad. Now that he’s finally back… after all, we’re family. Maybe it’s time to let it go…” “But don’t you worry,” she added fiercely. “As long as I’m around, that little brat Lily will never set foot in our home.” “Yes,” I interrupted, my voice flat. “It’s in the past. I won’t bring it up again.” I knew what she was trying to do. Better to take the initiative myself than be backed into a corner. At least this way, I could maintain a shred of dignity. The gawking onlookers scattered at the sight of Claire. “Ken. Long time no see,” Jeff said with a smirk, flashing a limited-edition designer watch on his wrist. I gave a silent nod, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. “I just needed some air. Since you’re busy, I’ll head back. I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.” Thinking I was angry, Claire chased me back to the cabin, her eyes red with manufactured concern. Seeing the raw lust still lingering in her eyes, a bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. To clear the way for Jeff, she had drugged me and destroyed my life. Now that she had what she wanted, and I was living in a hell of public shame, who was this performance for? “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “It’s been five years. I’ve forgotten all about it. It’s just… the cabin felt stuffy. It brings back things I’d rather not remember. I just went out for some air.” Claire let out a breath of relief. She personally wiped a nonexistent tear from the corner of my eye. After feeding me more medication, she left again, this time heading towards the main dining hall. Ten minutes later, a waiter slipped an invitation to a gala dinner under my door. I knew it was Jeff’s doing. But I went anyway. Before leaving, I dragged the suitcase I had packed to the railing and hurled it into the dark sea. At the gala, Jeff was the center of attention in a bespoke suit, exuding an air of effortless charm. He was introduced as a member of the Grant family by marriage. Everyone was buzzing, speculating about his relationship with Claire. The whispers followed them everywhere. Guests swarmed them, raising their glasses, praising them as a perfect match, a couple made in heaven. Claire, busy networking, didn’t notice me at first. But Jeff did. He walked over and led me out to a secluded balcony. His eyes scanned the fresh, purplish bruises on my neck. He smiled. “Ken. Five years, and you’re still the same useless wreck.” “So, how was it? Being dragged in there? You couldn’t protect your family’s company, and now you can’t even protect yourself. You’re a joke.” “You probably don’t even know, do you? Those men weren’t a random accident. Your beloved wife arranged the whole thing. While you were being stripped naked, she was right there, watching. I almost feel sorry for you!” A white-hot rage surged through me. Before I could move, Jeff slapped himself hard across the face, twice. As a scream pierced the air, he threw himself forward, toppling over the railing and plummeting into the sea below. He thrashed wildly in the churning water. I was still processing what had just happened when Claire shoved me violently to the ground. She didn’t even glance at me before diving in after him. When she hauled a sputtering Jeff back onto the deck, he looked at her with wide, wounded eyes. Claire’s gaze, when it finally fell on me, was stripped of all its former affection. “Ken, what the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed. “Is this what you meant by ‘letting it go’? Jeff knew what you’ve been through. He came to check on you, to try and clear up the misunderstandings from years ago, and you attack him?” I struggled to push myself up from the deck, my shirt riding up to reveal the angry red marks on my skin. My expression turned to ice. “Misunderstandings? What about the misunderstanding from five years ago? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation for that?” “If it weren’t for you, would I be in a position where I needed his pity?” Her brow furrowed, a flicker of panic in her eyes. “What is there to explain? You know what happened to your family’s company! I was the one who graciously took you in!” “And if you hadn’t disobeyed me and wandered off tonight, none of this would have happened! I can’t watch you every second of every day! If you go looking for trouble, why are you blaming Jeff? You should blame yourself for being so reckless!” “Ken, apologize to Jeff! Now!” Before I could speak, Jeff wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Claire, don’t… don’t be so hard on him. The bankruptcy of his family… it was all my fault. I didn’t stop Lily in time. I’m the one who wronged him. Think of today as… my way of making it up to him.” “If he hates me this much, then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I don’t want you to be caught in the middle.” My fingernails dug into my palms, drawing blood. Watching them walk away, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew. It was over. Five years of devotion turned to ash in that single moment. The crowd of onlookers buzzed with fresh gossip. “That’s the Grant family’s punching bag, right? The one who’s been passed around twice? He’s a mess himself, and he has the nerve to pick a fight with Mr. Cross? The nerve. At least Mr. Cross is clean. Not like him… God knows what kind of diseases he’s picked up!” “No wonder Claire never brings him out in public. She’s probably embarrassed. Imagine being a CEO, and your husband is a human pincushion who’s been with dozens of men. Tsk tsk tsk, it’s a disgrace to the Grant name!” “Mr. Cross and Ms. Grant are the ones who belong together. I heard they were college sweethearts. If he hadn’t gone abroad, this guy would never have had a chance. No one but Claire would be blind enough to marry him.”

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The son of the city’s wealthiest man was framed in a high-profile case. To let his little mistress shine, my husband deliberately lied to me about the court date. I arrived late, only to be blocked by the tycoon’s bodyguards and berated for my irresponsibility. Seeing through my husband’s scheme, I simply handed the role of lead defense counsel over to the other woman. “Since you’re so eager,” I said, “you’d better put on a good show.” My colleagues warned me not to be impulsive. This was a golden opportunity to impress the city’s most powerful man. But no one knew that I was the only lawyer in the entire country who could win this case. Even if the little mistress managed to argue her way through the first hearing, without me, her defense was doomed to fail. The tycoon’s son would still face prison. And my husband’s blind protection of her would only lead to his own ruin. 1 The son of our city’s top billionaire, Mr. Wallace, was ensnared in a meticulously planned frame-up, a major financial fraud case. One wrong move, and he could face the death penalty. But the day before the hearing, my husband, a partner at our law firm, told me the court time had been pushed back an hour, claiming the case files needed a final review. I had pulled a week of all-nighters for this case. But when I rushed to the courthouse, I was informed that a junior associate, Jenna, had already taken my place. Mr. Wallace, flanked by his bodyguards, cornered me, ready to tear me apart. “I trusted you! I hired you to defend my son, and you can’t even show up to the hearing on time! Do you have any idea what you almost did? You almost destroyed him!” I stood there, stunned. Just then, my husband, Mark, stormed out of the courthouse and laid into me as well. “Where have you been, Sierra?” “The hearing started, we were looking for you everywhere! Did you just forget about a case this important?” I stared at him in disbelief. What did he mean, forget? Wasn’t he the one who told me yesterday that the hearing had been postponed? Seeing Mr. Wallace seething with rage, I was about to explain when Mark cut me off. “It’s one thing to be absent-minded at home, but to get the time wrong for a court hearing? How did you even pass the bar?” he sneered. “Luckily, Jenna was available and stepped in at the last minute. This case can’t afford any mistakes. Did you stand us up because you wanted to drag the entire firm down with you?” In that instant, everything clicked into place. This whole elaborate charade… it was all for Jenna. Mr. Wallace was a titan of industry, his influence unmatched. Every lawyer, from junior associates to senior partners, was desperate for a piece of this case, a chance to get in his good graces and make a name for themselves. But Mr. Wallace had chosen me. I remember the day we signed the retainer agreement. Mark had been dripping with sarcasm. “Well done, Sierra. You act so high and mighty, so above it all, but you managed to talk Mr. Wallace into picking you personally.” “What a hypocrite. Always pulling strings behind the scenes, never giving the younger lawyers a chance.” At the time, I didn’t understand what he meant. Now, I did. Mark had deliberately made me miss the hearing so Jenna could have her moment in the spotlight. Just then, Jenna walked out of the courtroom. This case was far too complex for a single hearing, but from the look on her face, you’d think she’d already won. She put on a show of sweet concern. “Sierra, are you feeling unwell? Is that why you couldn’t make it? But for a case this important, you really should have given us a heads-up if you needed to take time off.” I watched her saccharine performance with cold eyes. As if she didn’t know exactly why I was late. Jenna then turned to Mark, her face a mask of apology. “Mark, I only stepped in because I was afraid the hearing would be delayed. I know as a junior associate I’m not qualified for a case like this. It was against the firm’s rules. You can punish me.” Mark smiled, completely ignoring my presence. “You did great. When it comes to a case, there’s no junior or senior. A dedicated and responsible person is what makes a truly good lawyer.” Watching the two of them, so wrapped up in their own little world, I could only laugh. Jenna was our junior from law school. I was the one who recommended her for a job at the firm. I had hoped she would bring some fresh energy, but instead, she spent her days flirting with the wealthy clients from our divorce cases. And at some point, she had gotten closer and closer to my husband. She was always calling him by his first name, her tone cloyingly intimate. During her probationary period, her mistakes nearly tanked our entire team on multiple occasions. But Mark always covered for her, saying, “Jenna’s still young. We should give her more support.” He and I had fought about it several times. “Were you perfect when you first started out? Can’t you give a newcomer a chance to make mistakes?” Even back then, I felt something in Mark slowly changing. Today, I finally saw him for who he truly was. I smiled at the two of them, a pair of scheming snakes. “In that case,” I said nonchalantly, “let her continue with the case.” Jenna immediately waved her hands in mock protest. “I’m just a junior associate! How could I possibly handle a VIP client’s case?” “Why not? Rules are made to be broken. Mr. Wallace was just praising your outstanding performance to me. You have a bright future ahead of you!” Mark looked at Jenna with pride shining in his eyes. “You’re going to be the star lawyer of our firm. I believe in you!” I let out a cold laugh and shoved my defense counsel ID badge into Jenna’s hand. She verbally refused, but her hand shot out and snatched it, as if afraid I’d change my mind. “Jenna must be exhausted. I’ll call a car to take you back to the office! I’ll order some barbecue later to celebrate!” Mark walked away with Jenna, not sparing me a single glance. Watching them walk away side-by-side, a bitter taste filled my mouth. A few minutes later, a post from Jenna popped up on my social media feed. “The luckiest thing in the world is when a dark horse meets a patron who believes in them. Thank you to my dearest mentor for giving me this chance. I’ll do my best!” The accompanying photo was of the two of them, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. A long string of likes followed. I glanced at it and silently locked my phone. A superficial victory in court meant nothing. I had studied this case inside and out. Mr. Wallace’s son was a classic scapegoat. These financial cases looked simple on the surface, but they involved a complex web of interdisciplinary financial knowledge, including niche topics like blockchain technology. If the defense lawyer lacked experience in these areas, the real culprits would exploit those loopholes, and we would lose. Combined with the high-profile nature of the defendant, it would be easy for the other side to use public opinion against us. But there were very few lawyers in the country who understood blockchain. I could say with confidence that I was the only one who could completely clear my client’s name. As for Jenna’s supposed victory? It was an illusion. The moment the other side made their next move and forced a second hearing, she would be crushed. She was desperate to make a name for herself in the legal world, but she didn’t understand that winning a case was about more than just reciting legal precedents from a textbook. After sending Jenna off, Mark came back to wrap things up. Seeing me still standing there, his face was a mask of impatience, all traces of his earlier gentleness gone. “I told you you couldn’t handle it, but you had to be so stubborn.” “Making a mistake like this in front of the court… you can forget about a promotion now.” “But you’re getting old anyway. It’s about time you took a step back and focused on taking care of our home.” He was always like this. He hated that I was strong, that I overshadowed him. But he never understood. I was just doing my job, fighting for every single one of my clients. Back at the firm, I found Jenna sitting in my office. “Sierra, a client of Mr. Wallace’s status probably shouldn’t be seen waiting in the main lobby. How about we switch offices? Oh, and by the way, could you please give me all the case files? It’ll help me prepare for the next steps.” The other lawyers in the office were openly staring, their ears perked for gossip. A junior associate being promoted to lead counsel was unheard of. And for the firm to tacitly approve it? Even more so. I could feel the pity in their eyes, as if they were all wondering how I would survive in the legal world now that I had offended a client as powerful as Mr. Wallace. I didn’t get angry. I simply gestured for her to take the seat. Just as Jenna was about to sit down, looking triumphant, I yanked the chair out from under her. She landed on the floor with a painful thud, her face contorting in pain. The office erupted in laughter. Mark saw what happened and rushed over, his voice booming. “What do you think you’re doing, Sierra? Are you trying to bully your colleagues now?” I just smiled coldly. Bullying? I wouldn’t dare. “I thought you had already familiarized yourself with the case. I didn’t realize you hadn’t even looked at the files before you went into court. Did you think this was a game?” “And another thing, this is a law firm. You earn your place in this office with skill, not by pulling strings.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it sent a ripple of chatter through the office. Everyone finally realized that Jenna’s sudden promotion wasn’t earned; it was a favor. I turned and walked away, not wanting to deal with them any longer. Mark, furious, chased after me, yelling about how irresponsible I was. “Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a lawyer!” I ignored him, my face a blank mask as I left the firm. But honestly, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t hurting. A large part of the reason I chose to study law was because of Mark. His father was an alcoholic who would come home drunk and beat him and his mother. I remember him telling me when we were in high school that he wanted to be a lawyer, to open his own firm. He wanted to bring his father to justice, to save his mother from that hell. So, I chose law too. I specialized in family and criminal law, hoping I could be his support. When I told him my plans, Mark was moved to tears. He held me tight and swore he would never marry anyone else, that he would build a different kind of law firm with me, and that we would become a legendary legal duo. Then Jenna appeared.

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I woke up and stretched lazily. Then, with a jolt, I found myself wide awake, sitting upright in my office chair. I whipped my head around. A few of my colleagues were still hunched over their computers, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screens. I stared in disbelief for a long moment before it finally sank in. This wasn’t a dream. I had been reborn. It seemed even fate itself couldn’t stand what had happened to me and had given me a second chance. This time, I vowed, I would stay as far away from Aria Grey as possible. We would be strangers, worlds apart. I opened my laptop to type up my resignation. But then, the memories of my past life flooded back. In my previous life, at the end of June, there was a massive summer job fair. A man having a psychotic break had escaped his mother’s care, grabbed a knife from a fruit stand, and rushed into the crowded venue. In the chaos, many students, unable to escape in time, were left bleeding on the floor. The man eventually charged toward our company’s booth, heading straight for the CEO, Aria Grey. Everyone froze in terror. Everyone except me. I threw myself in front of her without a second thought. Even after the knife plunged into my abdomen, I clung to the attacker, refusing to let go. After the incident was contained, I was rushed to the hospital. The blade had pierced my spleen, and it had to be removed. Just as I was sinking into despair, convinced my life was over, Aria stunned everyone by proposing to me in front of them all. She promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. It felt surreal, but I said yes. After we were married, Aria’s care was meticulous. She practically insisted on feeding me every meal by hand. Without a spleen, my immune system was shot. I ran high fevers constantly, often spiking to 102 or 103 degrees. Aria would stay up all night by my side, bringing me water and medicine. I thought marrying a woman like Aria meant I must have won the cosmic lottery. But it wasn’t until I was on my deathbed that I learned the truth. She hadn’t married me out of love, or even gratitude. She had married me to leverage the fame my “heroic act” had brought, using my reputation to advance her career. Her greatest wish each day was for me to die sooner. Only my death would finally set her free. To that end, she had thrown away the specialized medication my doctor prescribed, replacing it with some counterfeit junk she’d gotten from who-knows-where. No wonder I had only lasted ten years in my past life. It had all been her doing. What a vicious woman. So this time, I had to get away from her. I had to escape this black widow. Snapping back to the present, I lifted my shirt and ran a hand over my stomach. There was no ugly scar. My spleen was still there, safe and sound. I still had a chance. And it wasn’t just about me. I had to save all those young people who died in that attack. They deserved a second chance, just like I got. I closed the resignation letter draft. For now, I had to stay. If I just quit, I wouldn’t have the resources or influence to stop what was coming. I needed help. With my mind made up, I took out a pen and paper to plan my next steps. Just then, a colleague tapped me on the shoulder. “Jay, do you ever check the work chat? The boss has tagged you like a hundred times.” My heart skipped a beat. I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, Aria had messaged me repeatedly. Why on earth would she be summoning me to her office for no reason? Filled with doubt, I went upstairs to see her. The moment I walked in, Aria looked up, her gaze locking onto mine. My treacherous heart began to pound. She was still so beautiful. Her long, wavy hair framed a face so perfect it could have been sculpted. No matter what, she had taken care of me for ten years in our past life. No sane person could just erase that. Seeing her again, I felt a sudden urge to cry. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Ms. Grey, you wanted to see me?” Aria snapped out of her daze. She gestured for me to sit on the sofa and poured me a cup of tea. Alarm bells went off in my head. I had learned my lesson the hard way. Beneath that gentle exterior was a woman poisonous enough to murder her own husband. I watched her with a cold, guarded expression. Aria sat across from me, her voice soft. “You’ve been with the company for two years now. I want you to be in charge of this year’s summer job fair.” I was even more confused. Last time, the job fair was handled by HR. My department was only involved in the interviews. As the saying goes, when something is too strange to be true, it usually is. I refused without a second thought. “Ms. Grey, I know my own capabilities. I can’t handle that kind of responsibility. If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to my work.” But her next words cornered me completely. “I’m not asking, Jay. I’m telling you. This job fair is extremely important. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I believe you’re the only one in the company who is right for this.” My resolve wavered. I had just been racking my brain, trying to figure out how to get the company’s resources for my plan. Now, Aria was handing them to me on a silver platter. Fine. As long as I could save those people, a little interaction with Aria was a small price to pay. I just had to stay vigilant. I clenched my jaw and nodded. “Okay. Thank you for the opportunity, Ms. Grey.” Back at my desk, Aria quickly announced in the company-wide chat that I would be responsible for the job fair. She tagged everyone to make sure they saw it. A colleague sidled over, looking at me with wide eyes. “Man, we slave away day and night and never get a gig like this. The boss putting you in charge… are you about to get a promotion, marry an heiress, and live the dream?” I laughed bitterly to myself. Just like last time. After I married Aria, everyone thought I was the luckiest man alive. No one knew how my story ended. I wonder if they would still be so envious if they knew my short life had been personally cut short by Aria Grey. Whatever. No time to dwell on that. I had more important things to do. That afternoon, I drafted a plan and pulled everyone involved into a new Slack channel, sharing a list of required supplies. The channel immediately filled with skeptical comments. I had requested stab-proof vests, cut-resistant gloves, and riot shields. The HR department thought I was joking and demanded a meeting to explain myself. I agreed, knowing I’d have to come up with a damn good excuse to convince them. To my surprise, Aria showed up at the meeting. The head of HR was furious, accusing me of being on a power trip. I knew he was just angry that I was stepping on his turf. I calmly asked him to hear me out, then looked at everyone with a grave expression. “This year has the largest number of graduates ever. The venue will be packed. It’s best if we don’t have to use this equipment, of course. But we have to be prepared for any unexpected situations.” HR was about to argue again, but Aria suddenly raised a hand, silencing the room. “We’ll go with Jay’s plan. Everyone wears a vest. If you think it’s ugly, wear a jacket over it.” The room fell silent. I was just as surprised as they were. I had a dozen excuses ready, but before I could use any of them, Aria had made the final decision. Not wasting the opportunity, I made another suggestion: mandatory group fitness sessions for everyone involved until the job fair. In a crisis, being in shape could save a life. This time, everyone erupted. “Come on, Jay, don’t mess with us. Work is tiring enough without adding a mandatory workout. Besides, that’s our personal time. You can’t control that.” I tried to explain, but no one was listening, their voices a chaotic buzz of complaint. It was Aria again who slammed her hand on the table, demanding silence. “I support it. For the period leading up to the job fair, everyone involved can leave work early. I’ll rent out a gym. It won’t cost any of you a penny.” I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t figure out what was happening. Since I’d been reborn, Aria was like a completely different person, a total stranger. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t be bothered to think about her. Once this job fair was over, I was quitting. We would go our separate ways and never see each other again. Just then, Aria’s hand came to rest on my thigh. “Go for it,” she whispered, her voice low. “Whatever you do, I’ll support you.” I flinched as if bitten by a snake, snatching my leg away. I turned my face, refusing to look at her. Aria froze for a second, her smile stiffening on her face. As I left the conference room, my colleagues’ stares were… strange. I knew what they were thinking, but what did it have to do with me? After everyone else had gone home, I stayed behind, continuing to flesh out the plan for the job fair. Whatever Aria’s reasons were for supporting me, I had no excuse not to make this perfect. The booths needed barriers—if acrylic wasn’t strong enough, we’d use stainless steel railings. The cost was her problem; my only concern was saving as many lives as possible. I don’t know how much time passed. Aria walked over and placed a coffee on my desk. “The job fair is still a few days away. You need to rest.” Her gentle voice sent me spiraling back to my past life. For ten years, she had used that same gentleness to deceive me until the very end. I looked down at the coffee and immediately pictured the discarded medicine boxes in the trash can. My heart felt like it was being gently torn open. A soft, agonizing pain. I pulled away from her touch, my voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Thanks for your concern, Ms. Grey, but I’m not going to die from exhaustion.” Aria didn’t say anything. She just sat there beside me, watching me with a blank expression. Her stare was making my skin crawl. I finally couldn’t take it anymore, snapped my laptop shut, and stood up to leave. She followed, linking her arm with mine. “The buses have stopped running. Let me give you a ride.” I wrenched my arm free again. “Don’t trouble yourself, Ms. Grey. I have legs.” Aria stopped in her tracks, a look of pure shock on her face. I walked away quickly, almost fleeing, desperate to get out of her sight. Why? In this life, there was no reason for our paths to cross, yet here she was, tangling herself up in mine again. I don’t remember how I got home. I just fell into bed and passed out. And yet, she was still there in my dreams. Aria was lying in my arms, murmuring things I couldn’t understand. I kissed her madly, again and again, until my own tears woke me up. I furiously wiped them away and looked out the window. The sky was getting light. That afternoon, we got off work at four. My colleagues were secretly thrilled. Who wouldn’t be happy about a paid workout session? Soon, the gym was filled with whoops and hollers as everyone tried to one-up each other. Ten minutes later, I turned off the treadmill and stepped off to catch my breath. Aria walked over, holding a towel to wipe the sweat from my forehead. For a split second, I was lost in a daze. Her upturned face seemed to merge with the image from my dream. But then I caught the sweet, floral scent on the towel and snapped back to reality, jerking my head away. Aria didn’t seem to mind. She handed me a thermos. “You can’t drink cold water right after a workout. I added some salt and taurine. It’s good for you.” I refused to look at her, glancing over my shoulder to see a few of my colleagues smirking in our direction. I didn’t want to make a scene. I pushed the thermos away and said in a low voice, “Thanks, Ms. Grey, but I don’t need you to worry about me. I know to drink when I’m thirsty and rest when I’m tired. I’m not an idiot.” I turned and walked away, leaving Aria standing there, looking lost. Her expression was so wounded. She just stood there, all alone, like an abandoned child. My heart gave a painful squeeze. But then I remembered her actions in our past life. This woman loved to play the victim to manipulate people. In the locker room, a few of the guys sidled up to me, their voices dripping with insinuation. “Who knew, Jay? You’ve got Ms. Grey acting like a little wronged wifey, wiping your sweat, bringing you water.” “Don’t even talk about it. We’re not so lucky. All we can do is be jealous.” I shot back, annoyed. “If you wanted a drink so badly, why didn’t you go ask her for it? See if it poisons you.” They all roared with laughter and wandered off, still joking. I was full of doubts, but I pushed them away. It was pointless to think about it. How could I possibly fall for the woman who had already killed me once? But Aria wasn’t giving up. It was as if she was incapable of understanding my rejection. She shadowed me everywhere, constantly bringing me food and water, telling me to take breaks. I stopped trying to figure her out. The job fair was almost here. The moment the organizers gave the green light to set up our booths, I rushed to the venue. Aria followed. She saw my red-rimmed eyes and the dazed look on my face. She took my hand, made me sit down, and started massaging my neck from behind. “I know how much this job fair means to you, but don’t try to carry it all on your own. I’ll always be by your side.” I didn’t pay any attention to her words. My mind was consumed with a single thought: What if I fail? What if I can’t save them? The closer we got to the event, the greater the pressure became. It was crushing me. Aria’s actions, instead of comforting me, only brought back the gut-wrenching pain of my past life. And in that moment, something inside me snapped. I shot to my feet, violently shaking her arms off me. “Aria! What the hell do you want from me! Do I have to scream the ugliest words imaginable at you before you’ll finally leave me alone?” “I don’t know what you’re thinking, or if I’ve misunderstood something, but I can promise you this: there is no future for us!” Aria was stunned. Her mouth opened, and then suddenly, tears were streaming down her face. She wiped them away fiercely with her sleeve, grabbed my arm, and pulled me into a corner. I shook her off, turning my head away. Aria grabbed my shoulders with all her strength, pinning me against the wall. She looked up at me, her eyes blazing. “Jay Chen, in our last life, when you were dying, you said you didn’t want to be my husband anymore. I thought you were just delirious from the fever, but you really meant it! You’re that cruel! We loved each other for ten years! Don’t you have any feelings left for me? I gave you my entire heart! What did I do wrong to make you treat me like this? Tell me! Just tell me, so I can finally rest in peace!” So, Aria was reborn, too. She knew everything about our past life. A rage so intense it felt like my chest would explode erupted inside me. “Aria!” I roared. “If you really loved me, then why did you kill me!” Aria looked as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “What do you mean, I killed you?” she asked, her voice trembling. I was dizzy with anger. I tried to push her away, but she clung to me like a woman possessed, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Tell me how I harmed you! I served you day and night, was that harming you?” The more I struggled, the tighter she held on. In a moment of madness, I grabbed her by the hair and crushed my lips against hers. Aria immediately went still, her lips parting to meet mine. I took the chance and bit her. She cried out in shock and let go. I gasped for breath and looked at her. “It was over the moment I died in our last life. I told you then, if there was a next life, I wouldn’t be your husband. Stop looking for me. There’s no future for us.” I turned and walked away, leaving her behind me, crying and screaming my name. I ignored her and went back to the booth, watching the workers install the final railing. So that’s why she supported my plans. She knew all along. She may have killed me in our past life, but at least she did one good thing in this one. It didn’t matter. My life was no longer hers to claim. As I was lost in thought, a colleague came to take over my shift. He hesitated, then asked, “I saw Ms. Grey run off crying just now. I called out to her, but she didn’t answer. Did you two have a fight?” I shot him a glare. “What does Aria crying have to do with me? I don’t care if she lives or dies.” My colleague just clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t get what a woman like her sees in a stubborn mule like you. She’s got the looks, the body, and she’s a rich heiress. If I had a girlfriend like that, I’d slap myself twice before I ever started a fight with her.” His words sparked a strange flicker of anger in me, like I’d just caught someone prying into my private belongings. I shot him another hard look and left the venue. Aria’s car was gone. She had really left. A hot, dry wind blew, leaving me feeling strangely melancholic. When I got back to the company, she still wasn’t there. I sat at my desk, staring into space.

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The first day of my reincarnation, I realized the Memory-Wipe Potion was watered down. Not only did I have all my memories from my past life, but I also watched as a woman swapped me with another baby girl. Oh, hell no. The life of wealth and luxury I’d spent lifetimes of karma points to secure was being stolen right before my eyes? Not on my watch. Eighteen years later, a girl stormed into my family’s mansion, claiming she was my parents’ real daughter. I just smiled. This was my destiny, and no one was taking it from me. 1 After 800 years of brown-nosing the Administrator of the Afterlife, he finally took pity on me and granted me a chance at reincarnation. I sifted through the celestial archives for ages, finally cashing in lifetimes of good karma for one shot at a life of absolute luxury and happiness. I proudly presented the Fated Life file to the Administrator. “This one. She’s the one I want to be.” Just as I was giggling to myself about the worry-free future ahead, I saw her—a woman, her movements furtive, carefully swapping me with another baby in the nursery. Panic seized me. This could not happen. The second she was gone, I started screaming. I cried until my throat was raw, my voice a shredded mess. Finally, a nurse noticed. She gently scooped me up. “What’s wrong, little one? Are you hungry?” I wailed louder. “Not hungry? Did you wet your diaper, then?” I screamed my head off. “Then what is it?” I was sweating with desperation, wishing I could just open my mouth and tell her what happened. I pleaded, I begged, but all that came out was a pathetic, high-pitched cry. Just as I was about to give up, the head nurse walked in. “Wait a minute,” she said, her brow furrowed. “I don’t remember this baby being in this bassinet.” I stopped crying. And then, I let out a loud, happy gurgle, looking right at her. The sight made both nurses laugh. “What a smart little thing!” The head nurse checked the birth charts, comparing weights and times. Then, her face went pale as she swapped me back with the other baby. The younger nurse looked like she was about to faint. “Oh, thank god you noticed. I can’t even imagine the fallout from a mistake that huge.” The head nurse looked at her sternly. “You have to be more careful. This is the Clark Corporation heiress. If we’d sent the wrong baby home, we’d all be finished.” The stone in my chest finally dissolved. After that day, I never cried again. No one was ever going to steal my life. 2 Coming home with my parents to a sprawling mansion, I smiled with deep satisfaction. I was the heiress to the Clark Corporation. They named me Lila Clark. I also had an older brother, Leo, who was completely and utterly obsessed with his little sister. I’d chosen him specifically. In my last life, my brother had beaten me to death. This time, I desperately wanted a brother who would love me. When I was little, Leo, who was already in elementary school, would wait for me outside my kindergarten every single day. He’d always have a piping hot pretzel tucked inside his coat for me, leaving a red mark on his chest from the heat. When a boy at kindergarten pinched me, Leo rounded up his entire class and beat the kid half to death. When I was in middle school, girls would ask me to pass him love letters and little cakes. He’d throw the letters in the trash and give the cakes to me. “Lila” was the first and last word out of his mouth every day. Growing up steeped in so much love, I’d almost forgotten the chaos of my birth. But of course, on my 18th birthday, the other girl showed up to claim her prize. The party was a massive affair, held at our family’s five-star hotel. A string orchestra played on the main floor while guests mingled, champagne flutes clinking, all wishing me a happy 18th. The presents were stacked to the ceiling like a magnificent Christmas tree. Designer watches, luxury cars, someone even gifted me an entire oceanfront villa. A-list celebrities came to sing “Happy Birthday.” Every important person in the city was there. Luxury brands sent over custom-made gowns. A fleet of drones lit up the night sky, forming a portrait of my face and the words “Happy Birthday, Lila!” I was standing on a balcony, looking down at the glittering crowd below, when she burst in. A girl in a plaid shirt and washed-out jeans pointed a finger straight at my face and screamed, “I’m the real Clark princess!” Her birth mother had swapped us. “Lila Clark is a fraud!” The champagne flute was still in my hand. A shocked silence fell over the crowd. She said her name was Jenna. 3 It was the ultimate gossip-worthy moment. My mother glanced at my father. He shook his head frantically, holding up three fingers in a solemn oath. “I swear, I don’t know that woman! Lila is my only precious daughter!” A small smile played on my lips as I slipped into character. “Mom? Dad? What’s going on?” My mother wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” The next second, Jenna lunged, grabbing my arm and shoving me backward. I stumbled right into the seven-tiered birthday cake. Sticky buttercream ruined my custom designer gown. Gasps rippled through the guests. I struggled to my feet, dazed, and stared at the woman whose face was contorted with a furious jealousy. My parents rushed to pull me up, gently wiping the frosting from my face. My father’s voice was thunderous as he turned on Jenna. “I don’t care who you are! To cause such a scene at a Clark event… it’s clear your mother taught you nothing! Have you no manners?” Jenna seemed momentarily stunned by his authority, but then she latched onto his arm. “Dad! I’m your real daughter! This impostor should be thrown out! She stole my life for eighteen years! Why does she get a party like this?” Her eyes welled up with tears. She looked utterly pitiful. “Today is my birthday, too,” she sobbed. “And I’ve never, not once in my life, had a real birthday party.” My mother helped me up, her expression pained, before turning to Jenna with a rare, severe tone. “Let’s put aside the fact that you’ve come here with absolutely no proof. Even if you were our biological daughter, we would never acknowledge you after a stunt like this! You have no class, no decorum! Look at where you are!” My mother was always gentle; she never spoke harshly. This time, she was truly furious. But something felt off. Something was missing. Where was Leo? I hadn’t seen him all morning. Normally, he’d be glued to my side by now, telling me how beautiful his little sister looked. Thinking back, he’d been distant lately. Could it be? Did he already know about Jenna? My father shot a look at his assistant, who quickly took the microphone and tried to get the party back on track. The rest of us retreated to a conference room in the back. My parents’ brows were knitted with worry. The last eighteen years had been too perfect. This was the scene I had been waiting for. 4 I never knew the identity of the woman who had tried to steal my life. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that she would show up one day. Just as I was lost in thought, the door opened and Leo walked in. “Mom, Dad,” he said, his voice flat. “We’ve been pampering the wrong person for eighteen years. Jenna is our family. She’s my real sister.” Whoa. The brother I’d hand-picked for his sister-doting personality was malfunctioning? Then I remembered. He doted on his sister, not on me. Now that Jenna was his sister, I was just an obstacle. Heh. Interesting. Jenna, now sitting on the sofa, had dropped her aggressive act entirely. Tears streamed down her face, a picture of tragic beauty. She must have just learned the truth herself and rushed here to claim her family, completely losing her composure in the process. Rule number one of the Clark family: never, under any circumstances, tarnish the family’s reputation. In our circle, appearances were everything. My mother spoke first. “Leo! What are you talking about? Are you saying you knew she was your sister?” “Yes. The first time I saw her, I saw the birthmark on her arm.” “I saw it when she was a baby. I remember.” I remembered, too. During the brief time we were switched, my father had brought a five-year-old Leo in to see the new baby. He actually remembered. “So! Lila was the one who was switched!” For a moment, my parents were speechless. Leo pressed on. “I can’t let my sister live like that out on the streets. She has to come live with us.” The brother who had cherished me for 18 years spoke with such chilling detachment. My father sighed. “We need to investigate this properly. In the meantime, this young lady can stay at the villa upstate. After we have the facts, we’ll decide if she’s moving in.” My dear old dad! He was the best. Leo Clark! This means war! But Leo wasn’t done. “No! I won’t have Jenna living so far away! It’s not convenient for us to take care of her. You have no idea how hard her life has been! You haven’t seen the place she lives in!” My mother hesitated. “She can stay here, I suppose. It’s not like we don’t have the room. But Lila isn’t leaving. Even if she isn’t my biological child, I raised her for eighteen years. I won’t be separated from her!” Leo shot back, “Mom! She usurped Jenna’s life of luxury for eighteen years! It’s time for her to go back to where she belongs!” The adoration in my brother’s eyes was gone. In its place was a burning rage, directed at the person who had stolen 18 years of wealth and privilege from his real sister.

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The last thing I remember from my past life was the cybersecurity competition. The campus heartthrob my girlfriend was obsessed with submitted a security protocol identical to mine. Then my own sister went on a livestream to “expose” me, calling me a shameless plagiarist. The entire internet turned on me. Not even my own parents believed me. They told me I was a disgrace and would be better off dead. Eventually, I got sick and fulfilled their wish. I died. Then, I woke up, reborn on the day before the competition deadline. This time, I decided to hell with it all. I was leaving the country. But to my surprise, the campus heartthrob started to panic. 1 My eyes fluttered open. I was still in the university lab. A glance at the wall clock told me it was 2 AM, but the lab was still buzzing with the low hum of computers and the frantic energy of my classmates. I looked at the calendar. Exactly one week until the submission deadline for the cyber-defense competition. After pulling a series of all-nighters, I’d finally crashed for a few minutes. My teammate, Rachel, tapped me on the shoulder. “Kevin, if you’re hitting a wall, you should head home. A fresh mind works faster tomorrow.” I nodded, the full weight of reality crashing down on me. I was back. I had been reborn. Staring at the blinking cursor on my screen, I couldn’t help but be dragged back into the memories of my past life. I remembered the elation our team felt when we submitted our defense protocol to the competition organizers. That joy was short-lived. We were disqualified for plagiarism. An army of online trolls pointed out that our design was identical to another team’s. One of the key members of that other team had been uploading his code and thought processes to a public GitHub repository, amassing a legion of fans who worshipped his “genius.” I was hounded relentlessly by them. “What a shameless rip-off artist. His team just copied the entire open-source project. If I’d known it was that easy, I would’ve entered and won too!” “The nerve of this guy, not even trying to hide it. People like him should be blacklisted from the entire industry. And what kind of university churns out students like this?” “He’s still in school and he’s already willing to do anything for money. Imagine how corrupt he’ll be once he gets into the real world!” … But we knew it was impossible. Our entire team had brainstormed the solution together. How could a design born from the minds of several people perfectly mirror someone else’s work? But our disbelief didn’t matter. My own sister, Jessica, became the star witness for the prosecution. She hosted a livestream, meticulously comparing our code to the “victim’s” code, line by line. It looked like a perfect copy-paste job. The memory sent a jolt through me. I immediately opened my browser and searched for the “victim’s” GitHub profile. The avatar was a handsome, athletic guy. He already had tens of thousands of followers, with comments full of people calling him a “legend” and “the future.” His last post had been updated just five minutes ago. I clicked on it, and my blood ran cold. He had shared his latest design concept, complete with the source code. His logic, his code… it was identical to what I had just finished writing. Not a single character was different. For a moment, I wondered if I was losing my mind, if some cosmic system was playing a sick joke on me. The guy’s name was Ethan. He was a varsity athlete at our university, popular for his sunny good looks. The ultimate career path for graduates from our program was a coveted spot at Nexus Labs, the research division of a tech behemoth that sponsored our competition. A starting salary there could easily hit seven figures. A few days ago, Ethan had posted a bold declaration on the campus social network: he vowed to become a hacking prodigy in 30 days and land a job at Nexus Labs straight out of college. 2 Naturally, none of us in the computer science department bought it. But his fangirls did. And my girlfriend, Sophie, was one of them. More than once, Sophie had gushed to me about Ethan, about how handsome he was, how he had a perfect six-pack. I’d gotten angry, offered to break up and set her free. But she’d insisted he was just an idol, someone to admire from afar. She said I was the one she wanted to build a life with. Back then, I was a fool. Sophie was the daughter of our family’s housekeeper; we’d grown up together. She was always sweet, always there for me, and I believed she truly cherished our relationship. I had my faults, too. I spent most of my time buried in the lab. Sophie used to joke that my code was my real girlfriend, and she was just the other woman. But just now, on Ethan’s profile, I spotted a photo taken in a luxury hotel room. Reflected in the window were two figures. One was clearly my sister, Jessica. The other was just a partial image—a slender arm with a small, distinct scar on the fleshy part of her hand, right where the thumb and index finger meet. I knew that scar. It was Sophie’s. From the angle of the shot, it was obvious Ethan had intentionally framed Jessica in the reflection while cutting Sophie out. It seemed he wasn’t interested in her; she was just a backup. My gut screamed at me that Sophie and my sister were behind this whole twisted affair. But why? Why would they conspire with an outsider to destroy me? And how were they doing it? How was Ethan always one step ahead, getting his hands on my code the second I wrote it? Did they tamper with my computer? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I immediately ran a diagnostic, searching for any monitoring software or spyware. I found nothing. Could it really be a coincidence? The competition’s main goal was to optimize security systems to better defend against foreign hackers trying to steal user funds. The current payment systems on the market already did this reasonably well. With that thought, I deleted all the advanced code I had written. In its place, I wrote out the code for the most common, standard solution currently available. I was curious. Would Ethan update his GitHub with this, too? Once that was done, I finally headed home. Just as I walked in, so did Jessica. Her eyes swept over me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, well, if it isn’t our resident coding genius. How’s it going? Writer’s block finally setting in?” My parents had always favored the more successful child. Compared to my sister, that had always been me. She’d resented me for it her whole life. In my past life, I would have ignored her jab. But now, I was on high alert. How did she know whether my work was going smoothly or not? “Everything’s going great, actually,” I replied coolly. “If things go as planned, I’ll be taking first place again.” “Hah!” she scoffed, her conviction absolute. “No chance. You are not winning this time.” The sound of our bickering brought our father out of his study. He ran a small financial firm. In my past life, my stellar academic record—always first in my class, always winning programming competitions—had been his greatest source of pride. “He gets his brains from me,” he’d boast. I had even helped optimize many of the security systems for his company. But after I was accused of plagiarism, his attitude did a complete 180. He’d spat at me, disgusted that I had shamed him. He’d asked me why I still had the nerve to be alive, why I hadn’t just died. Later, he and Jessica had thrown me out of the house, leaving me to die alone and sick in a hospital. The memory made my fists clench. But now, my father was all smiles. “I believe in my son. He’s just like me, always a winner. Once your system is perfected, I’ll replace my company’s entire security protocol with yours. Think of the bragging rights!” I forced down the unease churning in my gut and nodded obediently, just like I always had. Jessica snorted and stalked off to her room. My father patted my shoulder, telling me to get some sleep. I agreed, but the moment I was in my room, I started tearing it apart, searching for hidden cameras. I found nothing. I logged onto my computer at home and checked Ethan’s profile again. His GitHub hadn’t been updated. Was I just being paranoid? Maybe. If I was, then great. I already had a breakthrough idea for the system optimization. I’d start fresh in the lab tomorrow. 3 The next morning, the first thing I did upon arriving at the lab was check Ethan’s profile. Still no updates. It really must have been a coincidence. A wave of relief washed over me, and I finally felt free to dive back into my work. I skipped lunch, fueled by the adrenaline of coding. The lines of logic flowed from my fingertips, and by the afternoon, the program compiled and ran flawlessly. I leaned back, stretching, a deep sense of accomplishment warming me as I looked at the screen filled with my work. Rachel, seeing I was finally done, came over, her face bright with excitement. “Kevin, you did it? Is it running? You’re amazing! What do you want to eat? We have to celebrate!” But a knot of anxiety was still tightening in my stomach. I couldn’t shake the fear that Ethan was about to pull something. “Anything’s fine,” I said. “Just grab something quick.” Rachel nodded and left to get food. The moment she was gone, I opened Ethan’s GitHub profile again. My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. His latest post contained the exact code I had just finished running. I refreshed the page, again and again, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. On the fifth refresh, a new post appeared. What I saw made my skin crawl. It was a photo. A photo of my own computer screen, with his GitHub profile open in the browser. He had captioned it: “Didn’t expect to get noticed by a competition heavyweight. Looking forward to seeing your final design!” The photo had clearly been taken by someone inside the lab. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. I whipped my head around, scanning the room. Everyone was hunched over their own keyboards, engrossed in their work. There was no way to tell who had done it. The comments under his new post were exploding. “Who’s that? Isn’t that the nerd who lives in the library and the lab? He’s all hard work, no real genius like our Ethan.” “Ethan, I heard he’s in the competition too. You should stop posting your code and ideas online. You never know who’s looking to steal them.” … No wonder I was so utterly destroyed in my past life. I was surrounded by enemies on all sides. “Kevin, food’s here. You look a little spooked, what’s wrong?” Rachel was back with takeout. “I’m fine. Just… tired lately,” I managed to say. I took a large bite of food, the warmth seeming to bring me back to life. I made a difficult decision. If everyone was so determined to see me lose, then fine. I’d quit. My life was more important. With my skills, I could get a great job even without this competition. With my mind made up, I went to find Rachel and told her my decision. She tried to talk me out of it, but seeing my resolve, she eventually relented. Though disappointed, she gave me a hug and told me to get some rest. I immediately booked a flight to Thailand, planning to just get away and clear my head. But just then, my phone rang. It was Sophie. Her voice was sharp with urgency. “I heard from someone on your team that you’re dropping out of the competition.” A chill went down my spine. “Who told you that?” I had just told Rachel. It was unlikely anyone else on our team even knew yet, but Sophie already did. She ignored my question and launched into an attack. “How can you be so irresponsible? A big competition like this is all about teamwork. You can’t just quit whenever you feel like it. Have you even thought about your teammates?” “Sophie, have you ever thought about me?” She was silent for a second. “…What about you?” “I think we should break up.” I hung up before she could respond. I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I didn’t want to be tangled up with her anymore. I grabbed my backpack and walked out. Right at the entrance, I saw them: Sophie, Ethan, and his entire team, rushing towards me. Ethan’s face was a mask of concern. “Kevin, you’re not misunderstanding things between me and Sophie, are you? There’s really nothing going on. And please, don’t quit the competition. I really want a chance to compete with you, fair and square!” Sophie added, with a reluctant pout, “Kevin, stop making a scene. Just stay and compete. I’ll spend more time with you from now on, okay? Besides,” she added with a cruel little smile, “you’ve been with me for so long. Who else would want you if we broke up?” I let out a cold laugh. “So now you’re telling me I can’t even break up with you or quit a competition?” Members of Ethan’s team started whispering. “Did he see Ethan’s code and realize he couldn’t win? Is that why he’s bailing?” “Totally. A naturally gifted guy like Ethan only needs to put in a little effort to crush someone like him.” I ignored them all, walking right past the group and heading for the airport. The online harassment I’d endured in my past life was far worse than this. Back then, I had lived in a state of constant paranoia, flinching every time someone looked at me on the street, half-expecting them to spit on me. This was nothing. 4 I had just arrived at the airport when my father’s call came through. He didn’t ask, he just started yelling. “Kevin! I heard you quit the competition! How could you run away like a coward? Do you have any idea how many people I told that you were guaranteed to be the champion? You get back here and compete right now!” There it was again. My father’s pride, his public image, was always more important than anything else. I didn’t have the energy to explain. Over the years, the prize money I’d won from competitions was more than enough for me to live comfortably for a while. The plane landed smoothly in Phuket. The moment I stepped onto the beach and saw the waves and the sun, a profound sense of peace washed over me. I spent my days sunbathing and drinking coconut water. Life was blissfully simple. No more all-nighters debugging code, no more anxiously refreshing Ethan’s GitHub to see what he’d post next. One evening, I got a call from Rachel. She had found a critical flaw in the design I had originally created. It could handle small-scale attacks just fine, but a massive, coordinated assault would cause the entire system to crash. Hackers could exploit that moment of collapse to drain user accounts. It was a massive security risk. In a real-world application, my code was a ticking time bomb. It needed additional layers of processing to be truly secure. I talked her through a potential solution, a new line of thinking. I could hear the “aha” moment in her voice as she understood. After hanging up, I browsed the news. I saw that my father had officially adopted Ethan as his godson. My father had always said he admired talent. It was true. His son had to be number one. If his real son couldn’t do it, he’d just anoint a new one. The news article quoted my sister, Jessica, crowing about how Ethan had already developed the most brilliant defense system in the world. Our family’s financial firm was about to upgrade its entire network. A flicker of curiosity got the better of me. I opened my laptop and, feeling like a spy, snuck a look at Ethan’s profile. His latest post was bursting with excitement. “The competition solution is complete! Full code below. All feedback is welcome.” The comments were a waterfall of praise for their “legend.” I studied his solution carefully. My blood froze. It was, bit for bit, the exact solution I had just described to Rachel. A chill ran down my spine. Had I been wrong all along? Was Rachel the one leaking my work? But why would she do that? My head was a chaotic mess. I decided to walk to a nearby temple, hoping to find some quiet. The moment I stepped inside, my phone rang. It was my sister. Her voice was frantic. “Kevin, you need to look at our company’s system, now! We’re getting flooded with calls from clients. Their money is just… disappearing from their accounts!” I had already taken a peek. The losses were around $50 billion.

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1 The first thing the renowned actress Ava Aniston did upon her return to this life was march into her agency and terminate her contract. “Ms. Aniston, the Starlight Gala is just around the corner. Are you certain you want to proceed with a forced termination now?” the agent asked, his voice laced with disbelief. “Once terminated, the stage name ‘Ava Aniston’ will be legally voided. You’ll vanish from public records, untraceable.” Ava didn’t hesitate. She pulled a black card from her purse and settled the exorbitant cancellation fee. “I’m certain.” “The termination is successful,” the agent said, a note of finality in his tone. “The paperwork will take ten days to process.” Ten days. The exact date of the Starlight Gala. In her last life, she had been desperately in love with her husband, Michael Croft. A year later, after a devastating car crash, she watched him pull her lead surgeon away from her operating table to save the life of another woman—the one who held his heart. Given a second chance, she wanted nothing more to do with him. Outside the office, Ava bought a one-way ticket to New York, departing in ten days, then wrapped her fur coat tighter and stepped into the waiting car. A blizzard was raging. Wind and snow battered the windows, a chilling draft seeping through the seams. She rubbed her icy fingertips together, her gaze landing on the massive digital billboard in the city square. A new face smiled down from the screen, a high-end luxury ring prominently displayed on her ring finger. A week ago, that billboard had featured Ava, the industry’s youngest Best Actress award winner. But her boss, her husband, Michael Croft, the CEO of Aura Entertainment, had personally ordered it changed. It now featured Seraphina Moss, the internet’s latest sensation, and the woman he truly loved. Ava’s eyes stung. She looked away, opening her phone. Her last social media post was a photo of her and Michael, their hands intertwined. The caption read: “To have and to hold, one heart, until we grow old.” Michael had been the first to ‘like’ it. The comments below were a tidal wave of blessings, all celebrating their picture-perfect love. “Knew I’d see a pic of the boss here! His own feed is a ghost town.” “Goddess-level beauty! And Mr. Croft is so handsome! But why is he in a full suit on a tropical island? Isn’t it hot?” “You must be new. Eight years ago, the Croft mansion caught fire. Michael was already out, but when he heard Ava was still inside, he ran back in to save her. She was fine, but he suffered major burns. He hasn’t worn a short-sleeved shirt since. Always buttons it to the top.” “Who doesn’t know he’s the ultimate husband? He bought her a two-hundred-million-dollar private island in the tropics just because she gets cold easily. I’d light incense every day if my husband was half as good.” “Other celebrity couples might fail, but not these two. He’s obsessed with his wife.” Ava’s lips twisted into a self-mocking smile. Obsessed? Michael had been cheating for six months. Countless nights he’d claimed to be “working late” were spent at Seraphina’s apartment, while Ava foolishly believed he was building a future for them. Her finger paused, then exited the comments. Her gaze fell on that last post, the one he had liked. He never knew that the classic poem she quoted had a devastating first line: I hear you have a second love, and so I have come to break it off. The car pulled up to their villa. The storm was fierce. Even with the butler holding an umbrella, snowflakes found their way to Michael’s eyelashes. The icy specks couldn’t hide the warmth in his eyes. “Ava, you’re back.” He reached for her hand to warm it, but she saw a woman’s hair tie on his wrist—one that wasn’t hers. A chill washed over her. Before she could refuse, his hand was already covering hers, his thumb gently stroking the back. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” he murmured. “I decorated the house. Come see if you like it.” The living room doors opened to a scene of calculated romance. The lighting was dim, the air filled with the scent of expensive candles. Ava walked to the dining table, but instead of her usual red wine, she asked the butler for sparkling water. Michael looked puzzled. “A change of taste?” Ava lowered her gaze, her eyes flickering for a split second towards her stomach. “Nothing. Just wanted to try something new.” Suddenly, Michael’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and quickly declined the call. But it buzzed again, relentlessly. He shot Ava an apologetic look before answering. His face changed. “Sorry, Ava. Something urgent came up at the office.” Ava sipped her water. It tasted bitter. “It’s fine. You should go.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’ll handle it quickly.” She watched him disappear into his study, her eyelashes trembling. She knew what “urgent business” this was. In her past life, she had caught a glimpse of his phone that night: it was a picture of Seraphina, dressed in a nurse’s uniform. 2 Ava silently opened her laptop and navigated to Seraphina’s livestream. A comment flashed across the screen: “He’s still not answering? Babe, you sure your man isn’t with someone else?” Seraphina reapplied her lipstick, then stood to show off the curves accentuated by the tight nurse’s outfit. She smirked. “He’s probably just held up by some stray dog on the road. Can’t be helped, he has such a big heart.” As if on cue, a username—ForSera—appeared in the chat, gifting 100 virtual “castles.” A message followed: “Darling, don’t wear that for the stream.” The word “darling” felt like a boulder crushing Ava’s chest. Seraphina’s face lit up with a coy, triumphant smile. “I just wanted to make you jealous,” she pouted. “Besides, you didn’t spend Valentine’s with me. You can’t blame me for a little revenge, can you?” Michael said nothing more. Instead, ForSera gifted 9,999 of the most expensive “Cosmic Hearts.” Then, another message: “There’s one more gift. Look outside your window.” A series of deafening booms echoed through the night as fireworks exploded, illuminating the sky. Ava could see them from her own window. Seraphina’s livestream ended with her beaming, basking in the glow of a love that gave her the confidence to be reckless. “Sorry, everyone! My boyfriend is a little too possessive. Gotta go!” Back in the dining room, the steak grew cold. The candles were nearly burnt out. As Ava finished the last of her sparkling water, Michael finally emerged from the study. “That was Director Hayes,” he said. “I’ve secured the lead role for you in his new film.” Director Hayes was a legend, known for his critically acclaimed art-house films. A role in his movie was a guaranteed award. If she hadn’t just watched the livestream, she might have actually believed him. Ava was silent for a moment. “His films are mostly arthouse. They often have nude scenes. You don’t mind?” Michael paused. “Of course not. I’m not that petty.” No, she thought. You save all your possessiveness for her. The death of love always begins with the death of jealousy. “Tell him I’m passing,” Ava said, her voice flat. “I want to take a break for a while.” “Alright,” Michael replied, his tone gentle again. “We’ll find you something else next time.” There would be no next time. In ten days, she would be gone forever. That night, Michael held her as they slept, warming her cold hands and feet as he always did. The image of Seraphina’s billboard flashed in her mind. “Seraphina has only had a couple of minor roles,” Ava said, feigning casualness. “She’s barely transitioned from being an influencer. How is she getting so many major endorsements?” Michael’s body tensed. “Her boyfriend must be promoting her,” he said smoothly. The words “her boyfriend” were a sharp, physical pain in Ava’s chest. She gripped the corner of the duvet. “Is it really a good idea for Aura to sign her? What if she wants to get married, or have a baby? Can she afford the breach of contract fee?” “Her boyfriend loves her so much,” Michael said without hesitation, “he would definitely pay the fee for her. And marry her.” He paused, perhaps realizing how certain he sounded. “I’ve met him,” he added. So that was it. That was his real plan. All Seraphina had to do was say the word, and he would abandon everything to be with her. What, then, was their history? A ten-year dream? Ava said nothing more. In the darkness, silent tears traced a path from her eyes to the pillow. Once Michael’s breathing evened out, she slipped out of his arms and went to the study. Moonlight streamed in, casting a lonely glow on her frail figure. Her eyes fell on their university graduation photo on his desk. A bitter laugh escaped her. From the time she was a little girl, her goal was clear: become the most famous actress in the country. It meant being beautiful, talented, and fit. No scandals, no romance. She had been disciplined for eighteen years, ready to dedicate her life to her art. Michael was the one exception she had made. The day they got together, he’d told her, “Ava, I’ll never make you regret this. I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.” Apparently, that promise had a ten-year expiration date. Ava opened a drawer and pulled out the divorce papers. With a steady hand, she signed her name. Michael, she thought, when you realize in ten days that you can never find me again, will you feel even a flicker of regret? 3 The next morning, Ava went to the city’s most private hospital. Michael called. “The driver said you went to the hospital. Are you feeling unwell?” “It’s nothing. Just my usual cycle issues.” Ava closed her eyes and tore the paper in her hand into tiny pieces, dropping them into the trash. On one of the fluttering scraps, two words were printed in stark red ink: Pregnancy Confirmed. After hanging up, Ava’s hand instinctively went to her stomach, and memories flooded back. When they were young and struggling, Michael had acted as her manager, drinking with investors until he vomited blood just to get her a ten-minute supporting role. She had spent three days filming in freezing water, her body aching, but she never gave up on the chance he had fought for. That night, in their tiny, cramped apartment, he’d shaken her awake, his face filled with a panic she’d never seen before, not when investors belittled him or his family berated him. “Ava, you’re bleeding.” They had lost the baby. A doctor told them the fetus had already started to form. Their tears fell together. “I’m so sorry, Ava,” he’d sobbed, holding her tight. “It’s all my fault. I promise, it will never happen again.” The second time she got pregnant, she told him the good news. His response was two cold, emotionless words. “Get rid of it.” Seeing her shock, he’d added, “Ava, you’re at the peak of your career right now. We’ll have one next time.” But “next time” never came. “Ms. Aniston, are you sure you want to terminate?” The doctor’s voice pulled Ava from her memories. He frowned at the test results. “The fetus is developing very healthily. But your body is quite weak. If you terminate this pregnancy, you may never be able to conceive again.” Ava’s heart stuttered. In her last life, Michael had brought her to this same hospital. He’d told her the fetus was unhealthy, and the doctor had recommended an abortion. After that, she was never able to get pregnant again. It was the biggest regret of her life. She looked down at her still-flat stomach. She could feel a life growing there. Heaven had given her a second chance, and with it, this child. This time, she wouldn’t let go. The snow outside had stopped. Sunlight filtered through the clouds, but it couldn’t illuminate the desolation in her eyes. “Thank you, doctor. I’m keeping it.” New York, she thought, must have plenty of single mothers. The next day at the office, her manager, Catherine, rushed over, beaming. “Ava, Mr. Croft got you the Velocity endorsement!” Velocity was a high-end sportswear brand. The campaign would involve intense physical activity. Ava’s face hardened. She went straight to the top floor, to Michael’s office. But she froze at the door. Seraphina was just coming out, a small, red mark visible on the pale skin of her neck. “Ava,” she purred. “Ava, what are you doing here?” Michael sounded flustered, quickly buttoning his collar. There was an edge of blame in his tone. Ava’s breath hitched. She pushed past Seraphina. “Turn down the Velocity deal. I’m not taking any new projects for a while.” Michael frowned. Ava was a notorious workaholic. Even when “resting,” she only ever paused film projects, never endorsements. “Ava, are you sure it’s just your cycle? Are you hiding something else from me?” She froze, but her voice was steady when she replied. “It’s nothing, really.” He finally relaxed, taking her hand. “You should stop taking those birth control pills, then. Let your body recover. If you get pregnant, we’ll have the baby. I’ll take good care of you both.” Ava nodded silently. He had said the same thing in her past life. But when she was actually pregnant, he had dragged her to the hospital without a second thought. Michael, do you have any idea that I took eleven bottles of birth control pills last year alone, all for you? You’re the one who forced me to abort our child. You don’t deserve to be a father. 4 There was a knock on the door. Seraphina’s manager came in. “Mr. Croft, Seraphina’s schedule needs your signature.” “You go ahead,” Ava said. “I’m going home.” Halfway to the elevator, she realized her left earring was missing. She retraced her steps back to Michael’s office. Through the heavy wooden door, she heard his irritated voice. “I told you not to bother me when Ava is here.” Seraphina’s voice was a playful pout. She was sitting on his lap. “Michael, don’t be so harsh. She’s the one who interrupted our fun.” Her voice turned sultry. “I wore this especially for you. Don’t you want to see?” There was a pause, then the sound of a sharp intake of breath, followed by soft, heated moans. The cold metal of the door handle seeped into Ava’s palm, spreading through her veins until it reached her heart. Even knowing what he was, hearing it with her own ears was like a knife twisting in her gut. Her fingers turned white as she pulled out her phone and dialed his number. The phone inside the office rang for half a second before being silenced. No hesitation. Ava’s heart went numb. She walked away, a zombie in her own life. Two hours later, he called back. “I was in a meeting. What’s up?” The lie was so blatant it was almost funny. “Nothing,” she said, her voice smooth. “I dropped an earring, but I’ve found it now.” You’re the better actor, Michael. The awards should all go to you. Two days later, at a family dinner, Michael’s mother deliberately turned the lazy susan just as Ava reached for a piece of fish. “You eat so much, but you still haven’t produced an heir. Even a dog would have had a litter in ten years.” “Do you know what they used to call ‘stars’ in ancient times?” his father chimed in, his disgust unconcealed. “Actors. Performers. Things to be gawked at. Your priority should be to quit your job and give this family a son!” “I will,” Ava said finally. “I’ll be retiring.” And in five days, I’ll be leaving with my baby forever. Michael squeezed her hand. “Dad, Mom, don’t pressure her. We’ll figure out the baby situation.” Just then, Seraphina appeared at the door, holding a bottle of expensive ginseng wine. “Mr. and Mrs. Croft,” she said, beaming, “I felt such a connection with you both. If you don’t mind, I’d love to be your goddaughter! Ava is so busy, not like me. I just want to be here for you.” Michael’s eyes went cold, but his father laughed. “I wish I had a daughter-in-law as thoughtful as you! Not like some people who can’t take a hint!” His mother patted the seat beside her. “Come, dear, sit with us.” In ten years of marriage, they had never once invited Ava to sit beside them. “This is a family dinner,” Michael said, his voice dangerously low. “You shouldn’t be sitting there.” Tears sprang to Seraphina’s eyes. She shot Ava a resentful glare and left. Michael looked like he was about to follow, but seeing Ava still quietly eating, he stayed, though his attention was clearly elsewhere. His parents’ criticisms rained down on her again. Finally, Ava stood up. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going home.” She left so quickly Michael didn’t see the look on her face. It wasn’t until she had locked herself in a bathroom stall that she finally let herself collapse, the tears she’d been holding back breaking free. She dug her nails into her palms. Don’t listen. Don’t look. Don’t care. The doctor said stress is bad for the baby. They don’t want you. It doesn’t matter. The baby is your only family. Suddenly, a notification popped up on her phone. Seraphina had posted a photo from the dinner, tagging Ava. Having dinner with my boyfriend’s family and ran into my idol, Ava Aniston! What a coincidence. Though no faces were fully visible, Ava recognized the private room, the table setting, the back of Michael’s head.

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