Harrison Vance, a billionaire titan in the city, sponsored two underprivileged students from my university. One was Christopher, a brilliant, top-of-his-class senior destined for Wall Street. The other was me—Chloe. Just empty beauty, with a GPA that barely kept me enrolled. During our first meeting, Harrison asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I answered honestly: “I want to marry a rich man just like you.” Harrison rolled his eyes. “Rich men aren’t blind, sweetheart. Thanks, but no thanks.” But later, I saw him with his Italian leather shoe pressing down on Christopher’s hand, crushing it into the pavement. His voice was like dry ice as he warned him: “Are you blind? Can’t you see Chloe belongs to me?” Chapter 1 Since I was a little girl, my only dream was to marry into high society. And today, it looked like it was actually happening. The water was running in the hotel bathroom. Harrison had me pinned against the steamed-up mirror, kissing me so deeply I could taste the expensive scotch on his breath. His breathing was ragged, a hectic flush spreading across his handsome face. It was obvious: someone had roofied him. Morality told me I shouldn’t take advantage of a man in this state. But cold, hard logic told me I’d be an idiot not to. Harrison Vance was the ultimate prize. If I didn’t take this shot, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. Especially since he was the one initiating it… But just as my hand settled on the leather belt around his waist, something bizarre happened. Lines of glowing text suddenly floated across my vision like a live stream chat: 【Stop, you dumb home-wrecker! He’s hallucinating. He thinks you’re the main character, not the villain.】 【This side-piece is so shameless. If Harrison hadn’t picked her name through a random lottery for the sponsorship, she wouldn’t even be in this room. Now she thinks she’s going to go from rags to riches?】 【Don’t worry, when he wakes up and realizes he slept with the wrong girl, he’s going to throw her to the sharks!!】 Thrown to the sharks? My hand trembled with fear, but Harrison grabbed it, holding it steady. His voice was hoarse as he whispered against my ear, coaxing me: “Baby, please. Help me.” I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. But I was terrified of becoming shark bait. Breaking away from his grip, I shoved him into the bathroom and locked the door from the outside. Then, crying, I dialed Christopher’s number. “Chris, you have to come to the hotel. Now. Mr. Vance… I think someone drugged him.” Waiting in the VIP hospital wing later that night, I kept my eyes on the floor, praying Harrison wouldn’t remember what happened when he woke up. He already didn’t care for me much. Christopher saw how anxious I was and tried to comfort me. “Don’t be scared, Chloe. Mr. Vance is strong. He’ll be fine.” Before he could finish, the long lashes of the man on the bed fluttered. Harrison… was waking up. I gripped the hem of my dress, heart in my throat, trying to think of what to say, when an anxious female voice cut through the air— “Harrison!” A second later, I was shoved aside violently. I stumbled, nearly going down, but Christopher caught me just in time. It was Maya, his secretary, dressed in a sharp black blazer. She was already frantically opening her laptop bag, rambling about some minor emergency at the firm. Harrison leaned back against the pillows, rubbing his temples with his long fingers. He gave her a lazy, barely interested response. The text chat floating in my eyes spiked again— 【LOL, Maya is such a girl-boss. She loves work more than Harrison does. True main character energy!】 【Maya would get up from her deathbed to check stock options!】 【You guys don’t get it. Harrison only admires successful, career-oriented women. Not like the pointless, ambitionless side-character. She’s insufferable to look at.】 I rolled my eyes mentally. Okay, I get it, she’s great. Do you have to drag me to lift her up? People have different goals in life! Suddenly, my eyes caught a specific line in the chat: 【Is no one looking at Christopher in the corner? He’s been secretly in love with Chloe since freshman orientation. He finally got to hold her hand today to save her from falling. Bet he’s on cloud nine right now.】 Christopher is in love with me?! Before I could process the shock, Harrison’s dark, fathomless eyes locked onto mine. His gaze shifted from my face down to my hand, which Christopher was still holding. His expression suddenly soured, his tone turning irritable. “How long do you two plan on making a scene in here?” Yes, irritable. I had realized a long time ago that Harrison particularly loathed me being near Christopher. We were both sponsored by him. Christopher was valedictorian material. I was the girl who fell asleep the second I opened a math textbook. When Harrison launched his foundation, he said he would help us find our respective paths in life before we turned twenty. In a pristine, glass-walled conference room, Harrison’s assistant had laid out various personalized life plans for us. I picked the “Marry Wealthy” plan immediately. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” Harrison asked, leaning back, tapping a cigarette on his lighter. I was staring at his face, completely lost in his looks, and my true thoughts slipped out. “I just want to marry a rich man like you.” Predictably, he sneered. Through the drifting smoke, Harrison half-closed his eyes, scanning me from head to toe. “Breathtaking beauty, undeniable class, exceptional personal ability, and a powerful family background. A successful trophy wife needs at least two of those four things.” “Which one do you have?” Back then, I was wearing a faded T-shirt and worn-out jeans, my hair dry and brassy. I looked completely out of place in his world. But I was stubborn. “How will I know if I don’t try?” Harrison said nothing more. But his assistant murmured with obvious disappointment, “What a total waste of a sponsorship slot.” And so, every day after that, Christopher worked tirelessly on finance cases and investment research, planning his entry into the business world. I, on the other hand, worked tirelessly on fashion trends and makeup techniques, planning my entry into high society. Over time, Harrison started looking at me more often. His gaze was strange, impossible to read. I allowed myself to think he didn’t hate me as much anymore. Until the day I accidentally stumbled upon him reprimanding Christopher. Harrison was sitting imperiously behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he said, “Stay away from Chloe. You two are not walking the same path.” From that moment on, I understood. Harrison was terrified that a “bad apple” like me would ruin the masterpiece he was carefully cultivating in Christopher. Harrison was discharged later that afternoon. Christopher offered to help me take him home. When Harrison heard this, he frowned with obvious displeasure. “Did you finish that market analysis I assigned you?” Christopher scratched his head awkwardly. “Not… not yet.” Defeated, I had to take him home alone. Inside the town car, Harrison and I sat in the back. He was close. The clean, scent of cedarwood from his cologne filled my nose. It inexplicably reminded me of that hot, mirror-steaming kiss… I immediately rolled down the window halfway. I needed air. I also secretly watched Harrison’s reaction through the reflection. Since he woke up, he hadn’t mentioned it once. It seemed he really didn’t remember. That evening, I cooked a few light, healthy dishes. “Not much brainpower, a coward, but at least you can cook,” Harrison remarked. He was unusually biting today. Sometimes, I really wanted to drug him. Just with something to shut him up permanently. As I was clearing the table, the floating text appeared again. 【To be fair, she really knows how to take care of him. And she’s gotten so much prettier over the last year. I actually support her marrying rich, as long as she stays away from Harrison.】 【Girl, look at Christopher instead. He might be broke now, but he’s Harrison’s protégé. His future is limitless!!】 【By the end of the book, Christopher opens his own firm. He’s making millions.】 I stared at the text, losing my train of thought. The rich men I currently had access to all had flaws. The loyal ones were too old; the young ones were too wild and slept around. Harrison was perfect in every aspect, but he would never want me. Thinking it over, Christopher was actually the best option I could realistically reach. He was always good to me. But if I wanted to be with Christopher… I’d probably have to get through Harrison first. Perhaps encouraged by the text, I glanced at his study. The light was still on. I put on some flawless makeup, then knocked on the study door. A short “Come in” followed. Harrison was working and didn’t even look up. I gathered my courage and called his name. “Mr. Vance…” Only a single desk lamp lit the room. He finally looked up. I gripped the hem of my dress, looking directly at him. “Do you think I’m beautiful now?” Harrison was silent for a long moment, his Adam’s apple moving slightly. “…You’re alright.” My cheeks flushed hot, but I kept going. “Then, do you think I can marry into wealth now?” Another long silence. He stared at me with an unreadable expression before giving an ambiguous answer. “Maybe.” I was shocked. Harrison didn’t immediately shoot me down. Emboldened, my eyes lit up. “Then, do you think Christopher and I make a good match?” Harrison’s warm gaze instantly turned to ice. “So, the rich man you want to marry is Christopher?” Chapter 2 “So, the rich man you want to marry is Christopher?” When those words came out of Harrison’s mouth, the desk lamp flickered. It wasn’t because the bulb was bad; his hand had slammed down on the base of the lamp. I didn’t notice that detail. My mind was too busy trying to figure out how to say this right. “Christopher has great character, he’s driven, and he treats me—” “I asked you,” Harrison interrupted me, his voice not loud, but the study was so quiet I could hear myself swallow, “if the man you want to marry is Christopher.” It wasn’t a question anymore. It was a demand for confirmation. I nodded. Harrison said nothing. He turned and pulled a tan accordion file from the very bottom shelf of the bookcase. He threw the file onto the desk with force. It hit so hard my phone slid to the edge, nearly falling off. “Open it to page fourteen.” I stood frozen for two seconds before opening the file. It was the original sponsorship agreement I had signed years ago. To be honest, I never read it. It was twenty pages of dense legalese; I would have fallen asleep by the second line. Page fourteen, section three. “During the term of sponsorship, the recipient must obtain written consent from the sponsor for any major life decisions, including, but not limited to, the establishment of romantic relationships.” I read that sentence three times. Then I looked up at Harrison. “This can’t be right.” “What’s not right?” “The life plan you set for me was to marry rich,” I pointed to the other plan in the file, “yet this says I need your written permission to date—so do you want me to get married or not?” Harrison reached for his pack of cigarettes, pulled one out, and clicked his lighter twice. No flame. He threw the lighter down and kept the unlit cigarette between his fingers. “Christopher does not qualify as ‘wealthy’.” “Then who does?” “We’ll talk about that when he actually makes something of himself.” I let out a frustrated laugh. “Mr. Vance, what kind of man do you actually want me to marry?” He didn’t answer. “Or—” I took a step forward, testing the waters, “do you just not want me to marry anyone at all?” The study went silent for a very long time. It was so long I didn’t think he would ever answer. Harrison put the unlit cigarette back into the pack, closed the lid, and tapped his fingers twice on the surface of the box. When he spoke, it was a complete non-sequitur. “That lipstick you’re wearing today. Don’t wear it again.” I stood my ground. He hadn’t looked at me once since I came in. How did he know I was wearing lipstick? The text chat floated by again. 【He saw her the second she came in. The lamp flickered because his hand shook when he realized she had made herself up for him.】 【The sponsorship agreement clauses contradict each other. Harrison knew that when he wrote them. It’s a logical trap—she can never get married because he will never agree to anyone.】 I stared at the text, a cold chill slowly creeping up my spine. This agreement was a cage from the very beginning. The next day, I asked Christopher to meet me. The coffee shop was just outside the university’s east gate. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall; our knees nearly hit the table legs when we sat down. Christopher arrived wearing a new button-down shirt. The creases from the packaging were still visible; he clearly just bought it. After sitting down, he stirred his coffee three times but didn’t take a sip. I didn’t drink mine either. “Chris, I need to ask you something.” “Shoot.” “Do you think… you and I are a good fit?” The spoon in his coffee stopped moving. He didn’t look at me. His ears turned a brilliant red, spreading to the tips. It wasn’t a shy pink; it was the deep red of holding something in for too long that was suddenly exposed. “Chloe, why are you asking this so suddenly—” “Just wondering.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He started stirring the coffee again, twice as fast as before. The text chat exploded in my eyes. 【Christopher has been in love with her since freshman orientation. During military drills, he stood in the third row, she was in the first, and he stared at the back of her head for seven days straight.】 【The last line of his senior thesis acknowledgments originally read, “And to Ms. Chloe Evans, for being the light in my darkest days.” Harrison saw it and made him change it to “To all who helped me.”】 【Do you guys know why he brings her breakfast every time they meet? Because she nearly fainted from low blood sugar in the cafeteria once freshman year, and he’s never let her skip a meal since.】 I looked at the boy across from me, who was stirring his coffee so hard he was practically drilling a hole through the cup. He loved me. It wasn’t just the word “crush” that the text used. It was four years of hot soy milk at the cafeteria entrance every morning. It was never saying no when I asked for help. It was coming to meet me today, even though Harrison had warned him off and he was clearly terrified. My original plan was to confirm his feelings and then team up with him to negotiate terms with Harrison. But sitting here, watching him unable to even form a complete sentence because he was so nervous, that plan suddenly felt disgusting. I was using him. I was using four years of sincere devotion as a bargaining chip. “Chris,” I stood up, the chair screeching harshly against the floor. “I just remembered I have to be somewhere.” He snapped his head up. “You deserve someone who actually loves you back,” I said, grabbing my purse, unable to look him in the eye. “That’s not me.” Pushing open the glass door of the coffee shop, the outside wind rushed in. I walked ten or fifteen paces before my phone buzzed. It wasn’t Christopher. It was Harrison. No text. Just a photo. It was a side profile shot of Christopher and me sitting across the table. The angle was from across the street. It was so sharp I could see the foam art in my cup. I stood on the curb, my thumb hovering over the screen for five seconds. Then I typed: “Good shot. Want me to pose next time?” Harrison replied instantly. “No need. I already saved the one where you’re smiling.” I hadn’t smiled the entire time. Which photo did he save? I stared at that text for a long time. “I already saved the one where you’re smiling.” I definitely hadn’t smiled in the coffee shop today. Either he was lying, or the photo he saved wasn’t from today. The thought made my skin crawl. I didn’t reply. I shoved the phone back into my purse and walked quickly back to the university. By the time I returned to Harrison’s townhome, it was 7:00 PM. The living room lights were off. There was an extra pair of women’s high heels next to the shoe rack in the entryway. Black, stiletto heels, a size larger than mine. I changed into my slippers and walked in. The dining room lights were on. Maya, Harrison’s secretary, was sitting at the table. A file was spread open in front of her, and an untouched glass of water sat next to it. When she saw me, her expression was calm. It wasn’t the calm of someone waiting for a person; it was the calm of a judge waiting to deliver a verdict she already knew. “Ms. Evans, please, have a seat.” I didn’t sit. “Where’s Mr. Vance?” “Mr. Vance is out of town on business. His flight just took off.” She pushed the file towards me. “This is the termination notice for your sponsorship agreement. Mr. Vance has already signed it. You have one week to move out.” I looked down at the termination notice. The formatting was very formal—company letterhead, serial number, date. At the very bottom was Harrison’s electronic signature. The reason for termination read: “Recipient has substantially achieved the development goals; sponsorship relationship naturally concludes.” I read every word. Then I flipped to page two, page three. “Ms. Evans, do you need me to explain any of the clauses?” Maya’s voice was steady. Too steady. I had seen her report to Harrison. She spoke fast, was organized, and would occasionally swallow nervously under Harrison’s gaze. But sitting here, facing me alone, she was far more composed than she ever was with him. “Maya,” I laid the file down, “the reason says ‘development goals substantially achieved’.” “Yes.” “My agreement stated the conclusion criteria as ‘marrying into high society’.” I looked her in the eye. “I haven’t married anyone yet. How is it achieved?” Maya’s finger twitched. A tiny movement; her index finger lifted slightly from the table and dropped back down, as if she had been pricked. “Ms. Evans, development goals and conclusion criteria are not the same concept. Mr. Vance believes your current personal cultivation has—” “Mr. Vance believes?” I interrupted. “Or you believe?” The dining room went silent for a few seconds. I pulled out my phone to call Harrison. “His phone is off,” Maya was faster than me. “You won’t reach him until he lands.” “Then I’ll wait.” “The one-week notice starts tomorrow,” Maya stood up, picking up her glass. “I suggest you start looking for a new place.” As she walked to the entryway to change her shoes, I opened the original sponsorship agreement—the tan accordion file Harrison had pulled from the shelf last night. It was still on his desk. I read it from beginning to end. On the very last page, in the bottom right corner, was a line of handwritten text. The handwriting was Harrison’s; I knew his hard, angular script. “This project has no set expiration date.” By the time I grabbed the agreement and ran out, Maya was gone. The clicking sound of her high heels on the steps outside grew fainter and fainter. I took a picture of the handwritten line and texted it to Harrison. I wrote: “Your handwritten note says ‘no set expiration date,’ your secretary says I move out in a week. Which of you runs this show?” The message was sent, shown as delivered. No “read” receipt. Of course not; he was on a plane. The text chat floated by just then, a single line. 【Maya forged Harrison’s electronic signature. She has authorization to sign business documents on his behalf, but a sponsorship agreement is not a business document.】 I put the phone down and re-examined the signature on the termination notice. Then I opened the photo Harrison had texted me earlier—the one in the coffee shop. I zoomed in on the bottom right corner, on the watermark. Harrison didn’t take that photo. The watermark had a tiny logo. It was the brand of Maya’s phone case. I didn’t sleep at all that night. It wasn’t out of fear. I was thinking about one thing: Why did Maya want to kick me out? If it was Harrison’s idea, he didn’t need to use his secretary. He could have told me to my face in the study last night. If it wasn’t Harrison’s idea… for a secretary to forge her boss’s signature to kick out someone he was sponsoring—that takes incredible nerve. Unless she had a reason more important than keeping her job. Around 4:00 AM, the text appeared again. 【Maya has been secretly in love with Harrison for six years. Since the first day she started as an intern.】 【She used to think she knew Harrison better than anyone. Until Chloe Evans arrived. Harrison started changing his schedule for a poor student, pushing meetings, even cooking for her—things he had never done for anyone.】 I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. So this wasn’t a business move. It was a jealousy move. At 7:00 AM, I didn’t pack a single bag. I went to the kitchen and made coffee and breakfast. Then I sat at the dining room table and waited. At 8:10 AM, Harrison’s plane landed. At 8:43 AM, my phone rang. Harrison. I didn’t answer. I texted him: “Breakfast first. Coffee is on the counter, food is on the table.” At 9:30 AM, the front door opened. Harrison walked in, carrying his blazer. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. He looked more like he hadn’t slept than I did; the left side of his shirt collar was messed up, standing askew. He looked at the food on the table, then at me. “You’re still here.” “Why wouldn’t I be?” He draped his coat over the back of a chair and sat down. He picked up his fork, took a bite of eggs, and chewed slowly. “That thing Maya gave you. I saw it.” “You saw it, but you have nothing to say?” “I was on a plane.” “And after you landed?” Harrison put his fork down. “After I landed, I made a phone call.” “To who?” “To Maya.” When he said her name, his tone was flat, like he was remarking on the weather. “Her signing authority was revoked as of this morning. The termination notice is void.” I let out a breath, but only halfway. “And the photo?” Harrison’s hand paused for a second as he reached for his coffee. “What photo?” “The one in the coffee shop. You texted ‘I already saved the one where you’re smiling’—Maya took that photo, not you. Right?” I pushed my phone towards him, zoomed in on the watermark. Harrison looked at it for three seconds. Then he did something I completely didn’t expect. He flipped my phone over, screen-down, onto the table. “She took the photo.” “And the text? Did she send the text too?” “I sent the text.” “So you looked at a photo she took of me, and then used your own phone to text me that sentence?” “Yes.” “Don’t you think that’s incredibly—” “Incredibly what?” I swallowed the words. I was going to say “incredibly creepy.” But I couldn’t say it looking at him. He wasn’t aggressive, or cold. He was watching me with an intensity that was almost… honest. Like he didn’t feel he had done anything wrong. Like in his mind, monitoring where I went, saving photos of me, stopping me from marrying someone else—it was all perfectly logical. The text floated by just then. 【Harrison remembers everything from the bathroom incident. He’s been waiting for Chloe to admit it herself.】 The fork in my hand clattered onto the table, bounced, and rolled onto the floor. Harrison looked down at the fork. “Why are you nervous?” “I’m… I’m not.” “Then why are your hands shaking?” I hid my hands under the table. He didn’t press the issue and went back to his breakfast. After a few bites, without looking up, he said one more thing. “Next time you do your makeup, don’t use that shade of lipstick Christopher complimented you on. Use a different color.” I had never told him Christopher had complimented my lipstick.

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When my male neighbor found out I was a small business owner who only worked three hours a day, he rapid-fired sixty-eight text messages to me in the middle of the night. “I saw you bought more makeup. Who gave you permission to spend money like that?” “Don’t think you’re special just because you make good money! Let me remind you, your income needs to go toward supporting our future family!” I was completely bewildered, and naturally, my response wasn’t exactly polite. “That’s absolutely none of your business, is it?” The moment I sent that, he exploded. “How is it none of my business?! You’re going to be my wife! Every extra dollar you spend now is a dollar missing from my bank account!” “Also, about the dowry. We’re thinking eighty grand in cash and a brand new Audi A8. Have you saved up enough yet?” “Oh, and by the way, I’m not sexist or anything, but I want the perfect family. We must have both a son and a daughter!” He unleashed this insane barrage of texts, making my blood boil. I didn’t even bother replying; I just blocked his number immediately. But I never expected this guy to be a lingering nightmare. Days later, he showed up at my company as the lead project manager to negotiate a contract. Watching him sit across from me, confidently running his mouth and demanding endless concessions, I simply waved my hand. “I think we’re done here. Let’s cancel this partnership.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the atmosphere in the conference room plummeted below freezing. The smug smile on the face of my neighbor, Caleb Vance, instantly froze. The regional director who had come with him offered a panicked, apologetic smile and asked cautiously, “Ms. Evans, our collaboration on this project has been going perfectly so far.” “Why the sudden decision to terminate?” He rubbed his hands together nervously. “There must be a reason, right? Otherwise… it’s going to be very hard for me to explain this to the board!” I offered a dry, sarcastic smile, lazily pointing a finger at Caleb. “The reason is very simple. It’s because of him…” “Chloe Evans! Are you ever going to stop?!” Caleb violently shot up from his chair, slamming his palm against the conference table with a loud thud. He glared at me, his face red with anger. “There are a lot of people here today! I won’t say anything too harsh!” “If you want to throw little tantrums with me at home, fine!” “But today is a professional setting! Reel in your terrible attitude right now!” He then picked up the contract file and slammed it back down onto the table. “I’m finalizing this deal right now! It’s settled!” The regional director looked at Caleb with absolute awe, then frantically pushed the contract toward me. Conversely, my own managers sitting next to me were looking around in utter confusion. One of them opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him. I pressed my lips together into a thin line. “Caleb Vance, who the hell are you to me? What gives you the right to make decisions on my behalf?” “Do we even know each other?” A flash of intense embarrassment crossed Caleb’s eyes, but he stubbornly pushed through, attempting to soften his tone. “Alright, Chloe, stop being mad at me!” “There are people watching! I’m still your man!” “Can’t you at least leave me a little dignity?” Hearing that, every single person in the room gasped audibly. The regional director immediately jumped on the opportunity. “Ms. Evans, we totally understand that you and Caleb are having a little lover’s spat.” “But we’re on company time right now. We have to prioritize the work. You absolutely cannot let personal feelings ruin this deal!” Before he even finished his sentence, the conference room door swung open. Six security guards marched in in perfect formation. My executive assistant, who also happened to be my best friend, stood behind me and gestured to the guards, speaking with absolute coldness. “I’m sorry, but our CEO has spoken. This partnership is terminated.” “You can either leave on your own two feet, or I can have security escort you out.” The regional director was stunned. He frantically elbowed Caleb in the ribs, hissing, “Say something!” “Hurry up and sweet-talk your girlfriend! If this deal falls through, you know exactly what the consequences are!” Caleb grew even more aggressive. He reached out and grabbed my arm, his voice thick with irritation. “That’s enough!” “I tolerate it when you blow money on stupid things!” “Are you really trying to push me to the edge today?!” My patience had completely evaporated. I violently shoved him away. “Caleb, are you clinically insane?!” “We don’t even know each other! Doesn’t it feel completely pathetic to walk in here and announce yourself as my boyfriend?” The regional director’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Ms. Evans, please don’t say things you’ll regret in anger!” “Did Caleb do something to upset you? Please, just calm down! Calm down!” I found the entire situation hilariously absurd. “Is there something wrong with your ears, or am I not speaking English?” “I have absolutely zero relationship with Caleb Vance!” “He’s entirely delusional, trying to manifest his way into being my boyfriend!” “Chloe Evans!” Caleb roared, staring at me with bulging, furious eyes. “Don’t push it!” “Keep acting like this and I’ll break up with you!” Seeing that he was still completely submerged in his own psychotic fantasy, and having no desire to waste another second on him, I gave the order: “Escort them out.” As he was being dragged away, Caleb was still shouting threats. “You stupid bitch! You haven’t been put in your place for a few days and you’re getting itchy, aren’t you?!” “You dare disrespect me like this?! Just wait until we get home! I’ll beat the living hell out of you!” The regional director seemed to finally realize something was horribly wrong. He remained silent, his face dark as a thundercloud. Once the walking plague was finally gone, my assistant—my best friend, Maya—leaned in. “Chloe, who the hell was that guy?” “Is he a psychopath? Why was he calling himself your boyfriend?!” I rubbed my temples, completely exhausted. “I have no idea!” “He wasn’t this unhinged before.” “In fact, he initially acted like I was completely beneath him!” About six months ago, I moved back into an older, working-class apartment complex. Everyone I knew thought I was crazy. They asked me why, when I was so wealthy and owned a massive luxury condo downtown, I would choose to live in an old, inconvenient building. “I built my business from nothing. That apartment holds too many beautiful memories from my early struggle.” So, the very first thing I did when I made it big was buy back my old apartment. During my first week there, my neighbor, Mrs. Vance, brought her son over to introduce us. She even thoughtfully presented our “credentials” to each other. “This is Chloe. She’s twenty-seven. What did you say you did for a living again, sweetie?” We didn’t know each other well, so I just gave a vague, non-committal answer and laughed it off. I didn’t expect that the second I finished speaking, Caleb would flick his cigarette ash right by my feet. “Mom! How many times have I told you? Stop trying to set me up with these low-quality women!” “I’m a senior corporate executive! I know you want grandkids, but you can’t just drag any random nobody off the street and expect me to settle!” Finally, he looked me dead in the face and sneered mercilessly, “Bringing me out to look at trash like this is a total waste of my time.” The second he walked away, Mrs. Vance grabbed my hands, bowing repeatedly to apologize. “Chloe, I am so sorry! I raised a fool! Please don’t be angry!” “Let me apologize on his behalf!” I have a soft heart, and I can’t stand seeing an older woman grovel like that, so naturally, I didn’t hold it against her. But I never expected that, two days ago, Caleb would suddenly add me on the community WhatsApp group. “You’re Chloe, right?” “I’m your neighbor, Mrs. Vance’s son. Caleb!” At the time, I was reviewing contract details. The moment I saw his name, I knew he was the lead manager for the opposing firm. Just as I was preparing to shift into a professional gear to discuss the project details, a barrage of unhinged accusations flooded my screen. “My mom told me you run a small business and make decent money?” “What’s the point of making money? The important thing is knowing how to save it and hoard it!” “By the way, how is your fertility? Are you healthy? Are you still pure?” Staring at the endless stream of psychotic texts, I was completely shell-shocked. Remembering all this, I handed my phone to Maya. “Look at what he sent me.” Maya scrolled through the chat logs, her jaw dropping. “This guy is clinically insane.” Right at that moment, the CEO of Caleb’s company called my private line. His voice dripped with blatant flattery. “Ms. Evans, I was hoping to understand how our partnership suddenly fell apart.” “You’ve always been known for keeping business and personal matters strictly separate. Why let emotions dictate things today?” “Caleb told me all about the little spat between you two. If you ask me, couples fight, but it never lasts overnight…” “Mr. Davis.” I interrupted him, my patience completely gone. “I think you have a massive misunderstanding. I have absolutely no relationship with Caleb Vance!” “We don’t even know each other!” After I briefly explained the situation, I could feel the suffocating silence radiating through the phone. Sure enough, five minutes later, Mr. Davis sent me a photo. It was Caleb Vance’s termination notice. “Ms. Evans, I am deeply apologetic that something like this occurred. I have already fired Caleb!” “As for the profit margins, to make up for this unpleasantness, I am willing to concede an additional five percent.” “Regarding the contract, could we perhaps sit down and renegotiate?” He was showing immense sincerity, and it would be bad business to refuse. That very night, we set a time and booked a high-end restaurant. But just as I arrived at the restaurant entrance, Mrs. Vance suddenly grabbed my arm, her face drenched in tears. “Chloe, my son made a terrible mistake! He wronged you!” “But you can’t be this ruthless!” “At the end of the day, you two are husband and wife! What kind of grudge could possibly be this deep?!” Right beside her, Caleb dropped to his knees in front of a crowd of people, wrapping his arms around my calves in a vice grip. “Wife!” “I was wrong! I know I was wrong!” “Please, just forgive me, okay?” The restaurant entrance was busy, and pedestrians instinctively stopped, staring at us with insatiable curiosity. Caleb pressed his face desperately against my leg. The warm, damp sensation of his tears made me feel incredibly nauseous. “Wife! If you want to be mad at me, be mad! But why would you tell people we don’t know each other?!” Mrs. Vance aggressively joined the performance. She collapsed onto the sidewalk, slapping her thighs in dramatic, theatrical despair. “Oh, dear God!” “What sin did I commit in a past life to deserve this?!” “Chloe, have I been a bad mother to you?” “Why are you doing this?!” She sobbed loudly, addressing the growing crowd. “Everyone, look at this!” “Who has a more unfilial daughter-in-law than me?!” “Just because my son criticized her for spending too much money, not only did she tell everyone she doesn’t know him, but she actually made his boss fire him!” The moment she finished, the crowd didn’t even give me a chance to explain. They immediately turned their righteous fury on me. “That is disgusting! Getting your husband fired over a petty argument? If that was my wife, I would have beaten her half to death!” “You can tell just by looking at her face that she’s bad news. She looks like a gold-digger!” “Look at how glamorous she’s dressed, and look at her husband in cheap clothes. This woman is completely ungrateful!” I was burning with fury. I desperately tried to explain to the crowd, “I do not know this man!” “Please, someone call 911!” I was sweating profusely from panic, but someone in the crowd loudly voiced their doubts. “She doesn’t look like she’s faking it… maybe we should call the police?” “I agree, this seems like something the cops should handle!” “Chloe! Can you please stop this?!” Caleb looked at me with an expression of deep, tortured devotion. Then, he pulled two bright red, official-looking marriage certificates from his pocket. “She is my wife!” “We are legally married!” I stared at those two marriage certificates, completely dumbfounded. To ensure the crowd believed him, he flipped them open. “Look, the people in this photo are us.” “This is fake! I don’t even know him!” “Chloe! Has it really come to this?! Are you still refusing to forgive my son?” Mrs. Vance’s voice cracked, shrill with panic. “Do you want him to die right in front of you before you admit he’s your husband?!” I was losing my mind. All I could do was silently pray that someone had actually called 911 and that the police would arrive quickly. Caleb had one hand gripping my leg, and his other hand locked around my wrist. He leaned his entire body weight against me, dropping his voice so only I could hear. “Let me tell you right now, you are not escaping today!” “The one thing you women care about most is your reputation, right?” “I’m going to completely destroy your reputation. Let’s see if you submit to me then!” I turned my head and locked eyes with his venomous, psychotic glare. In a split second, his eyes filled with tears again. Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and started violently slapping his own face with it. “Wife! Hit me! Beat me to death!” “As long as you forgive me, I’ll do anything!” Mrs. Vance practically crawled to my feet. “Chloe! If you’re still angry, beat me!” “I’m old and useless! But I’m not blind!” “My only wish is to see you and Caleb living happily together!” My attempts to defend myself were instantly drowned out by the roar of the crowd’s condemnation. “This woman is absolute trash!” “Yeah, and the guy is an idiot too. Can’t he just divorce her?” “What do you know? That’s true love!” As the crowd swelled, all I could do was scream at the top of my lungs, “They are trying to kidnap me! Please, call 911!” “I really don’t know him!” Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from the crowd. “I can vouch for him!” “The woman standing right there…” Looking at that familiar face, a wave of relief washed over me. But a second later, he laughed and said: “Is 100% this man’s wife!” “They are a married couple!” My voice caught in my throat, coming out as a hoarse shriek. “You’re lying!” “Mr. Davis! You know exactly what my relationship with Caleb is! Why are you lying?!” Mr. Davis casually adjusted his expensive watch, speaking with absolute entitlement. “You’re the one lying, aren’t you?” “If Caleb hadn’t shown me your wedding photos, I really would have fallen for your act!” Caleb nodded in solemn agreement. “Thank you, Mr. Davis!” “If you hadn’t helped me trick Chloe into coming here, I really wouldn’t have known what to do!” “Chloe, please just be reasonable, okay? Forgive me, please?” “I know I messed up!” His grip on my wrist was brutal, the pain radiating up my arm making it hard to breathe. I had no idea where Caleb had hidden my phone during the scuffle. My last sliver of hope rested entirely on the crowd. “I swear to God, I don’t know him! Please, someone call 911!” There was a time when I would scroll through true crime videos online about women being kidnapped in broad daylight, and I could never understand why they couldn’t just run away. Now, living it in real time, I finally understood. In this kind of chaotic, overwhelming situation, compounded by Caleb’s manipulative victim-playing, Mrs. Vance’s hysterical crying, and a “credible” witness validating their story… It was nearly impossible for me to escape. Caleb gripped my wrist like a vice, a sickeningly smug smile on his face. “Stop wasting your energy! No one is going to believe you.” Sensing an opening, I lunged forward and bit down as hard as I could on his forearm. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth instantly, spreading rapidly. Caleb gasped in excruciating pain and instinctively shoved me to the ground. I broke free and scrambled to my feet, sprinting away as fast as I could. But the crowd was too thick, mostly comprised of men. They formed a human wall, physically blocking my path and refusing to let me through. “Everyone, help me stop her!” Furious, Caleb lunged forward and grabbed me again, dragging me back. Gritting his teeth, he delivered a brutal backhand slap across my face. “Bitch! I’m trying to give you an out and you spit in my face!” “You want to run?!” “Fine! Give me back my dowry and every single dollar I ever spent on you!” Mrs. Vance wailed theatrically, “This is marriage fraud! This is marriage fraud!” Hearing this, the crowd’s disgust toward me reached an absolute fever pitch. “This is literally a gold-digger in the flesh!” “Wow, this is wild! This woman has zero shame!” “How much money did you steal from him?! Pay him back right now!” I had barely opened my mouth to speak when Caleb delivered another vicious slap. “You dirty whore! I was completely blind to marry you!” Just as the words left his mouth, the wail of police sirens pierced the air in the distance. I let out a massive sigh of relief, using every ounce of energy I had left to scream for help. The police quickly pushed through the crowd and reached us. By this point, my face was swollen like a balloon, but I forced myself to stay conscious to report the incident. But the moment I managed to choke out the word “Officer,” the tears began falling like broken pearls. “My husb—” Before I could finish the sentence, Caleb stepped forcefully in front of me, lifting his chin arrogantly. “What?” “Are the police getting involved in domestic disputes now?” “I am simply disciplining my own wife!” The lead officer, his face carved from stone, stared at him. “You’re saying she’s your wife?” Caleb nodded arrogantly. “Obviously.” “Who gave you the right to— AHHHH! IT HURTS!” The officer’s hand clamped down like a steel trap on Caleb’s shoulder, violently spinning him around to face me. “Her name is Chloe Evans, and she is my legally wedded wife!” “Are you implying that my wife would leave me for a pathetic piece of trash like you?”

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On the first Monday back after the holidays, the entire company was in a frenzy, sprinting to hit our Q1 targets. Except for me. I was blatantly staring out the window, lost in thought. No one bothered me. Because last year, I was the sole reason the company’s revenue spiked by thirty million dollars. The CEO himself had granted me a special privilege: “You can do whatever the hell you want.” But our newly hired Director of Operations didn’t know that. He smashed my personal laptop in front of the entire floor and demanded I pay a three-thousand-dollar fine to set an example. I didn’t say a word. I just made one phone call, packed up my desk, and walked out. The very next morning, my former CEO drove to my apartment himself, begging me to come back to work. Because the number I dialed yesterday… Belonged to the private cell phone of his biggest rival’s CEO. On the first Monday back after the New Year, the whole company was scrambling. I was the only one leaning against the window, staring at the skyline. Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed down the hallway. Someone was trying very hard to make their presence known. “Just her?” “Yes, Mr. Thorne. This is our ‘special’ employee, Elena Vance.” I recognized the second voice. It was Derek Hayes, the recently promoted Deputy Director. I turned around. A man in his early thirties was standing in front of me. Derek trailed right behind him. Both men stood with the exact same arrogant, puffed-out posture. Derek tipped his chin up. “Elena, this is our newly appointed Director of Operations, Marcus Thorne.” Marcus didn’t say hello. His eyes landed on the laptop resting on the windowsill behind me. “Yours?” I didn’t answer. Derek immediately stepped forward. “Mr. Thorne, that’s her personal laptop. She refuses to use the company-issued hardware…” Before Derek could finish his sentence, Marcus reached out and picked up my laptop. “So, if you use your own laptop, that gives you the right to zone out during company time?” He raised his arm high. And let go. The laptop slammed against the hardwood floor. The sound of the screen shattering was crisp and deafening. The entire open-plan office instantly plunged into a dead silence. Marcus stepped right over the shards of glass and walked up to me. “Elena, I hear your numbers were great last year. That was last year. It’s a new fiscal year, which means new rules.” Derek immediately threw gasoline on the fire. “Mr. Thorne, she’s always acting entitled! Just because she closed a few deals, she never attends team-building events. Slacking off on the most important day of the quarter? She needs to be disciplined!” Marcus pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and shoved it in my face. It was a memo on the company’s Slack channel. Posted three days ago by Marcus Thorne. “Read it carefully,” he sneered. “Rule number three: Anyone caught slacking during business hours will be fined a hundred dollars. Anyone publicly violating company policy and causing a severe negative impact will face aggravated penalties, starting at one thousand dollars.” He pocketed his phone. “Your behavior constitutes a severe negative impact. You are fined three thousand dollars. Pay it to the finance department by the end of the day. If you can’t pay it, pack your shit and get out.” I looked down at the shattered remains of my laptop. Then, I pulled out my phone and dialed Richard Sterling, our CEO. He answered on the second ring, sounding surprised. “Elena? Happy New Year…” I cut him off. “Richard, the new Director of Operations just smashed my laptop and demanded I pay a three-thousand-dollar fine, or I’m fired. I’m just calling to confirm: is this your directive?” The line went dead silent for two seconds. Then, Richard’s voice spiked. “What?! Marcus did what? Hold on, I’m calling him right now!” I hung up. Marcus and Derek were still standing there. Marcus had a smug smirk on his face. “Calling the CEO? Cute. I’ll wait.” He turned and started walking toward his glass-walled office. After a few steps, he glanced back. “Derek, stay here and keep Ms. Vance company while we wait.” Five minutes later, the phone in Marcus’s office rang. He picked it up, murmured a few words, and his posture visibly relaxed. When he hung up, he walked back out, hands shoved deep into his tailored pockets, looking down his nose at me. “Keep waiting.” Just two words. Then, he and Derek strolled off down the corridor. A second later, my phone vibrated. Richard Sterling. I answered. Richard’s voice was suddenly diplomatic, even laced with a nervous little chuckle. “Elena, hey… I just got off the phone with Marcus to get his side of the story. He said you were slacking off, just staring out the window first thing in the morning?” I didn’t say a word. “Look, he’s new, he’s trying to establish some discipline for the good of the company. Your numbers were beautiful last year, but it’s a fresh start. You need to get your head back in the game. Are you… maybe overreacting a little? Let’s not make a mountain out of a molehill. We’re all on the same team here.” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. I looked down the hall. Marcus and Derek were standing by the corner, sharing a victorious, mocking laugh. I looked at my shattered computer on the floor and spoke softly. “I understand, Richard.” My phone buzzed against my ear. A text from a headhunter: [Victor Cole from Vanguard Tech is asking if you’ve made a decision yet?] I swiped the notification away. I didn’t reply. The next afternoon, the company held its Q1 kickoff meeting. The massive conference room was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with employees. I sat in the very last row, pressed against the wall. I had two Band-Aids wrapped around my fingers from picking up the glass yesterday. Marcus stood at the podium, his suit buttoned tight. Behind him, the projector displayed a massive, bold title: [New Beginnings. New Rules. New Heights.] He grabbed the microphone, scanning the crowd before locking his eyes directly on my section of the room. “I am well aware that this company used to harbor certain ‘special’ employees. People who relied on past achievements to stroll in late, leave early, skip team events, and treat company policy like a joke.” The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Marcus brought the mic closer to his mouth, raising his voice. “Starting today, all special privileges are revoked! Every single employee will clock in, attend meetings, and submit daily and weekly performance reports!” He paused, his gaze pinning me to the wall like a dagger. “And that includes those who think they are above the law.” A few people in the front row started clapping. Derek stood up, clapping louder than anyone else, repeatedly turning around to sneer at me. A smattering of nervous applause followed. I didn’t move a muscle. When the meeting ended, the crowd began to filter out. I was the last one to stand up. Just as I reached the door, Derek jogged up to me, clutching a pink slip of paper. “Elena, hold up.” He slapped the slip directly onto my chest. “Three thousand dollars. Pay it to finance before you clock out today, or it counts as a no-show. Mr. Thorne said rules are rules. No exceptions.” I glanced down at the penalty slip, then back up at his smug face. “My computer is smashed. How exactly am I supposed to work?” Derek’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Was it a company computer? Figure it out yourself. Since you love using your own gear so much, just go buy a new one. It’s not like you’re broke.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head. “Oh, by the way. Your desk has been moved to the spot by the restrooms. We need your old office for a new senior hire starting this afternoon. Better start packing.” I didn’t argue. I walked past him and headed into the bullpen. When I reached my desk, I bent down and started pulling things out of my drawers. A few notebooks, my coffee mug, a box of unopened pens, and the crystal trophy I was awarded at last year’s gala. Engraved on the glass: Apex Innovations – Employee of the Year. I placed the trophy into a cardboard box. I could feel the eyes of my coworkers on me. They would steal quick glances and immediately look away when I turned. Marcus strolled down the aisle, stopping about ten feet away. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Derek, crossing his arms and watching me pack. I carried my box toward the back of the floor, to the cramped desk right next to the bathrooms. The desk was tiny, covered in a layer of dust. Two massive boxes of printer paper were stacked in the corner, smelling faintly of mildew. I set my box down. At 2:00 PM, I was called into the HR office. The HR manager didn’t even look up as she slid a clipboard across the desk. “Elena, Mr. Thorne has assigned you to reorganize the basement storage archives this afternoon. Character-building exercise. Everyone has to do it.” I took the clipboard. The basement was a windowless dungeon, packed to the ceiling with expired legal files, broken office chairs, and promotional t-shirts from five years ago. I spent the entire afternoon hauling boxes alone. The sharp edges of the cardboard sliced into my hands, drawing fresh blood. I blindly wrapped them in paper towels and kept lifting. By 7:00 PM, I was finally home. I didn’t even bother turning on the lights. I collapsed onto my sofa, opened my contacts, and scrolled down to [Victor Cole]. My thumb hovered over the call button. I suddenly remembered what Richard Sterling had told me at the company gala last year. He was holding a glass of champagne, his face flushed with alcohol and success, patting my shoulder and laughing so hard I could see his molars. “Elena! From now on, whatever you want, you get it! The company rules don’t apply to you. You ARE the rule!” I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh and locked my phone. The next morning, I had barely sat down at my dusty desk by the restrooms when footsteps echoed down the hall. Marcus led the charge, holding a manila folder. Derek flanked him like a loyal guard dog. They stopped right in front of me. Marcus tossed the folder onto my desk. A few pages slid out, scattering across my keyboard. “Elena. This is the Q4 audit report on the accounts you managed last year. Several of the financial metrics don’t add up. We strongly suspect you fabricated your performance numbers. The company is launching a formal investigation. You are suspended pending the results.” I looked down at the papers. I knew those numbers backward and forward. I could recite them in my sleep. But the spreadsheets in front of me had been completely doctored. The gross revenue was slashed by 30%. Operating costs were inflated by 20%. The net profit margin was literally in the red. Derek stepped up beside my chair, crossing his arms, his voice dripping with venomous glee. “Elena, I never thought I’d see the day. You were so high and mighty last year. The CEO practically served you tea himself. Look at you now.” The surrounding coworkers kept their heads down, but the frantic clicking of their keyboards noticeably slowed. Everyone was listening. I looked up, staring dead into Marcus’s eyes. “Are you sure you want to play this game?” Marcus stood up straight, stepped around my chair, and leaned in close. His voice dropped to a sinister whisper only I could hear. “Let me spell it out for you, Elena. Richard doesn’t give a damn about you anymore. I had drinks with him last night. He told me he paid you way too much last year and it went to your head. This is my company now.” He stood back up, casually dusting off his immaculate suit jacket. “Pack your things. Don’t bother coming in during the investigation. Hand over your keycard.” I didn’t move. I could feel the stares of everyone on the floor. Pity. Indifference. Most of them were just enjoying the free entertainment. I slowly stood up from my chair. I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. Right in front of Marcus’s smug face, I opened my contacts, found the number I had left uncalled for three months, and hit dial. It rang twice. A deep, steady voice answered. “Elena? You finally decided to call.” “Victor. I accept your terms.” The line was quiet for exactly one second before a rich laugh echoed through the speaker. “Excellent! I’ve been waiting three months for those words. I’ll send a car to pick you up tomorrow at 8:00 AM.” I hung up. Marcus stood completely still. The arrogant smile hadn’t fully faded from his face, but his eyes were suddenly laced with uncertainty. Derek leaned in and whispered frantically, “Mr. Thorne, who did she just call?” Marcus ignored him, glaring daggers at me. I started packing my bag. There really wasn’t much to take. My laptop was already dead. I shoved a few notebooks into my purse. Then, I picked up the heavy crystal Employee of the Year trophy. I walked right past Marcus without a second glance. As I reached the elevator banks, Marcus’s voice echoed down the hall, intentionally loud enough for the whole floor to hear. “Let her posture! What kind of waves does she think she can make?” Derek laughed loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. I didn’t look back. THUD. I tossed the crystal trophy directly into the metal trash can by the elevators. That afternoon, I put my phone on silent and tossed it into my purse. Derek called me five times. I didn’t answer a single one. At that exact moment, I was sitting in a luxury boardroom on the 27th floor of Vanguard Tech’s global headquarters. Sitting across from me was Victor Cole. He personally poured me a cup of artisan tea. “The paperwork is all finalized. Tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM, my driver will be downstairs.” I picked up the teacup. “Perfect.” Meanwhile, back at Apex Innovations, Derek was pacing nervously outside Marcus’s office, clutching his phone. “Mr. Thorne, she’s not answering.” Marcus didn’t even look away from his monitors. “Let her ignore us. What is she going to do, destroy the company?” “But the audit file…” Marcus waved his hand dismissively. “Have someone else redo it. I’m glad she’s gone. I was sick of looking at her. She’s just a sales rep who thinks she’s a god.” Derek opened his mouth, swallowed his words, and walked away. The next morning. 7:58 AM. Richard Sterling walked into the Apex executive conference room holding a mug of black coffee. The long table was packed with department heads. The projector was humming. The morning sync was about to begin. The second he sat down, his phone started vibrating. Message after message. He frowned and opened the first text. [Industry Breaking News: Apex Innovations’ Star Rainmaker Elena Vance Officially Joins Vanguard Tech as General Manager of Strategic Development.] Attached was a high-res photo of me shaking hands with Victor Cole. All the color drained from Richard’s face. The coffee mug slipped from his trembling hand, crashing onto the mahogany table. Hot coffee splattered everywhere. Everyone in the boardroom stared at him in shock. He ignored them. His fingers shook violently as he dialed my number. [The number you have dialed is currently powered off.] He immediately dialed Victor Cole. It rang twice before Victor answered, his voice dripping with amusement. “Richard! How’s the new quarter treating you?” “Victor! What the hell are you playing at?! Elena signed a non-compete agreement with us!” Victor let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Richard, when she closed her first mega-deal for you, you publicly declared that the rules didn’t apply to her. A verbal waiver takes precedence. Everyone in the industry knows you said it.” “And as for that non-compete… you might want to check with your HR department. Are you absolutely certain you actually had her sign one?” “Don’t be so arrogant, Richard.” Richard’s phone nearly slipped from his sweaty grip. Victor added one final, twisting knife. “Oh, by the way. Thanks for hand-delivering me your best weapon.”

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Every year for my birthday, my boyfriend would team up with his childhood best friend to throw me a “surprise.” Last year, they rented out an escape room, claiming it was for my birthday party. I went inside and was locked in there for four hours. Outside, they were watching the security monitors, laughing so hard they couldn’t stand up. Inside, I was shivering uncontrollably from sheer terror. By the time the staff finally pulled me out, my legs were complete jelly. I’ve had severe claustrophobia ever since. Afterward, my boyfriend held me and apologized profusely, swearing he would never do something like that again, promising that this year, he would give me a proper, wonderful birthday. So, when my birthday rolled around this year, and he mysteriously invited me out to a bar… I specifically got my hair blown out, bought a brand new dress, and even busted my ass at work to make sure I could leave early. But the moment I happily pushed open the door to the private VIP room, a bucket of rancid, foul-smelling liquid poured directly onto my head. I stood frozen in the doorway. A thick, sticky red substance dripped down my hair and over my face. It was watered-down ketchup, mixed with crushed eggshells that were now clinging to my bare shoulders. The entire room erupted into exaggerated, booming laughter. “I told you she’d wear a dress tonight! Liam, you lose!” Liam stepped out from the crowd of his friends, holding out a napkin to me, acting exactly like he always did. “You dressed up so nice, too. What a shame.” “I made a bet with the guys on whether you’d wear a dress tonight. I bet you wouldn’t. If I won, I was going to take you out to pick your birthday present. If I lost, you’d have to wait until next year.” “Sorry about that. Since you wore a dress, no present for you this year.” The pungent, sour smell invaded my nose. I stared at him in absolute, dead silence. “So, you did know it was my birthday today?” He laughed, reaching out to playfully ruffle my ruined hair. “Of course I know. We’ve been together for six years, how could I forget?” The foul-smelling liquid dripped steadily down the hem of my dress. In that exact moment, I felt a profound, overwhelming wave of absolute disgust. My birthday was nothing but the punchline to a prank. Just like how my feelings were nothing compared to his childhood best friend. I reached up and unclasped the necklace around my throat. It was the very first birthday gift he had ever given me. “Then let’s break up.” 1 The sound of the delicate necklace hitting the floor was completely drowned out by the roaring laughter in the room. Liam frowned slightly. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s just a little juice. I’ll help you wash it out when we get home. You know how Chloe is, she’s been a prankster since we were kids. Honestly, she went easy on you this time.” “It’s so hard to get everyone together. Don’t make my friends think I’m dating someone who can’t take a joke.” Chloe, his childhood best friend, pouted and sauntered over. “Geez, Chloe, it was just a prank. If you hate it that much, we won’t do it again, okay? Don’t just throw around the word ‘breakup’.” “I told Liam you couldn’t handle it, but he insisted you come. Look what happened.” She huffed and threw herself onto the nearest leather sofa, puffing her cheeks out. Instantly, the gaze of everyone in the room shifted to me, their expressions turning judgmental and knowing. Chloe was the only daughter of a wealthy family in their elite, old-money neighborhood. She grew up pampered, the undeniable princess of their social circle. Whenever she was unhappy, everyone scrambled to coddle her. Liam was no exception. The first time I met her, she organized a game of Mafia. Everyone else drew standard character cards. But when it came to me, she secretly slipped me the ‘Siren’ card, leaned into my ear, and whispered: “When it’s your turn, read the lines for this character. Make sure you act really slutty.” I completely froze. I pushed the card back to her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her face instantly dropped. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Can’t handle a game? Whatever. Forget it.” The way the rest of the group looked at me instantly shifted. I heard someone mutter, “Why is she acting like such a prude?” Liam frowned at me too. “It’s just a game, Chloe. Is this really necessary?” In the end, I didn’t play. I sat alone in a corner drinking soda for the entire night. Meanwhile, Chloe was laughing hysterically, eventually revealing that there was no ‘Siren’ card in the deck—she had just made it up to mess with me. Feeling exhausted by the bullying, I casually remarked that it wasn’t a very fun way to play. Chloe’s eyes instantly welled up with tears, and she ran out of the room crying. The entire group chased after her to comfort her, including Liam. What was supposed to be a welcoming party for me ended with me sitting in an empty room, entirely alone. Liam didn’t say anything about it afterward, but for future gatherings, unless Chloe explicitly gave the green light, he never brought me along. And now, Liam was glaring at me, his brows knitted in frustration. “Chloe, apologize to her.” In the past, just to fit into his world. Just to save him from embarrassment in front of his friends, I would have swallowed my pride. I would have apologized and smoothed things over before he even had to ask. But right now, standing here covered in garbage, I realized that me ending our six-year relationship carried less weight than Chloe experiencing a minor moment of displeasure. I finally understood that, from the very beginning, our entire relationship meant absolutely nothing to Liam compared to his bond with his precious childhood best friend. I reached down and picked up the small clutch I had bought specifically for tonight. I met their judgmental, mocking stares. “Liam, we are done. I mean it. It’s over.” I turned on my heel and walked toward the door, the hem of my dress still dripping sticky red fluid onto the floor. Behind me, I heard Chloe’s teasing laugh. “Your little ‘pick-me’ girlfriend is leaving. You really aren’t going to chase her?” Liam let out a cold scoff. “She’s just throwing a tantrum. If I actually chase her, what happens to you?” “Besides, she doesn’t have anyone else but me. She’s easy to calm down.” My heart, already sliced open, was burning. His words were like freezing wind scraping against an open wound. Six years ago, Liam had confessed his love to me right in this very bar, swearing I was the only girl for him. When I was seventeen, my parents divorced and immediately started new families. I was dumped at my grandmother’s house. After my grandmother passed away, I went through high school completely alone. I was terrified of relationships. I was terrified of relying on anyone. I rejected Liam five times. The last time, I was trying to pull laundry off the balcony line, lost my footing, and fell. He sprinted forward and caught me, but the momentum slammed the back of his head into the brick wall. He needed seven stitches. When I went to see him at the hospital, his eyes were red. “Chloe, why do you always have to act so tough? Can’t you just let me protect you?” In that exact moment, my walls crumbled. I thought that maybe, if I dated someone this gentle, life wouldn’t be so bad. That same day, he took me to the amusement park and officially asked me out. When he heard me say “yes,” this guy—who was usually so composed and serious—picked me up and spun me around like a little kid. We spun until we were dizzy, both collapsing onto the grassy lawn. He used his body to shield mine so the rocks on the ground wouldn’t hurt me. Sitting under the Ferris wheel, he swore to the starry sky above us that as long as he was around, I would never be lonely, and I would never be abandoned again. But now, the deep, vulnerable wounds I had finally gathered the courage to show him, the wounds that had finally started to heal, were being viciously ripped open by him all over again. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I pulled out my phone, opened my email, and clicked on the international job offer that was about to expire. [Accept Offer.] Turns out, clicking those two words wasn’t hard at all. I looked up at the night sky, heavily polluted by the city’s neon lights. Liam, I actually wasn’t easy to calm down at all. And from now on, I will never need you to try. My flight was booked for the morning after next. I didn’t have much time. As soon as I got back to our apartment, I rushed to shower off the disgusting, sticky mess, and then immediately started packing. I didn’t own a lot of things. Packing was quick. One large suitcase and one carry-on, and I was done. At 2:00 AM, I booked a room at a nearby hotel. Just as I grabbed my bags to walk out the door, I ran straight into Liam, who was just getting back from the bar. He dumped a heavily intoxicated, stumbling Chloe onto the sofa, pulled a packet of brown sugar from his pocket, and handed it to me. “Good thing you’re still awake. She’s got her period but still insisted on drinking. Go boil some ginger and brown sugar water for her, or she’s going to have brutal cramps tomorrow.” I stood perfectly still, not moving an inch. When we first moved in together, my period cramps were so severe I was practically rolling on the floor. He had been a frantic, anxious mess trying to take care of me. In the middle of the night, I had tried to get up to boil my own ginger water. Because I was dizzy and distracted with pain, I ended up severely burning my hand on the stove. When he saw the burn, his sleepiness vanished instantly. Seeing me sweating from the pain, he was heartbroken and consumed with guilt. From that day on, he never let me touch anything remotely dangerous in the kitchen. Even when he was craving a home-cooked meal, he would rather order takeout than let me cook. For the past few years, I hadn’t stepped foot in the kitchen to cook a single meal. He even pre-cut all my fruit before handing it to me. To this day, there was still a sticker he made hanging on the kitchen door: [DANGER ZONE: CHLOE KEEP OUT.] I let out a dry laugh, walked over, ripped the sticker off the door, and threw it in the trash can. “Sorry, not my job. If her stomach hurts, she can boil it herself.” With that, I grabbed the handles of my suitcases, ready to leave. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist in a vice grip, pinning me against the front door. “Okay, Chloe, enough. Talk is one thing, but packing your bags? I already told you it was just a joke, stop being so dramatic.” “I know you were really looking forward to celebrating your birthday with me. I wanted to, too. Next year. We’ll celebrate together next year, okay?” His breath, laced with the smell of alcohol, brushed against my neck. But unlike the past, a few soft words weren’t going to fix this. I shoved him hard in the chest and slapped him squarely across the face. “Liam, I made myself perfectly clear. We are breaking up. I am not marrying you!” The slap didn’t just sober him up; it seemed to shock Chloe out of her drunken stupor on the sofa. She stumbled over, raising her hand to slap me back. “Who the hell do you think you are?! Who gave you the right to hit Liam?!” “Break up then! There are plenty of good girls out there! You… you’re nothing but a piece of trash!” A burning, stinging pain erupted across my cheek. My eyes blazing, I raised my hand to strike back. But Liam grabbed my wrist with terrifying force and violently shoved me away. The small of my back slammed hard into the metal door handle, a sharp pain radiating through my entire body. He shielded Chloe behind him, his expression filled with intense irritation. “She’s drunk! Why are you fighting with a drunk person?!” “Enough. Go outside and cool off. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” I stared at his complete apathy in sheer disbelief. He was treating me like an annoying, irrelevant stranger. He never looked at me again. Instead, he lowered his voice, gently comforting the drunk, erratic Chloe. He saved all of his tenderness for her. I dug my nails so deeply into my palms they almost drew blood. I grabbed my suitcases and walked out the door. After checking into the nearest hotel, I didn’t close my eyes until dawn. When I woke up, my phone was blowing up with notifications. Besides birthday wishes from friends, it was mostly messages from coworkers asking why I wasn’t at work, gossiping about whether I had some “good news” to share. My heart gave a painful throb. I typed a quick reply saying we broke up. I felt profoundly, deeply exhausted. The ping, ping, ping of notifications continued. Some thought I was joking. Some said it was impossible. Some even told me not to throw away a good relationship just because I didn’t get an engagement ring. After all, in their eyes, Liam was gentle, considerate, and eternally reliable. A rare, perfect catch. But they didn’t know that this “perfect catch”… On our two-year anniversary, arranged a romantic stargazing camping trip, only to use it as a setup for Chloe’s prank, having a fake “ghost” jump out of the woods and nearly giving me a heart attack. And on our five-year anniversary, he watched as rancid, rotting liquid was dumped all over me. He had his reliable moments, yes. But the person he was reliable for was never me. In the past, I had automatically blocked out all these awful moments, constantly gaslighting myself into believing that, aside from the Chloe situation, he was truly good to me. But now that I was awake, I realized that a relationship like this wouldn’t survive a marriage anyway. I offered a bitter smile and, out of habit, opened Instagram. Amidst the sea of birthday posts, Chloe’s photo carousel was the most prominent. Liam took her stargazing, rode roller coasters with her, and ate cake with her. Even though in the past he would always finish humoring Chloe before coming to celebrate my birthday… He had never, ever done any of those things with me. He always claimed those activities were too childish, that staying home and watching a movie was more meaningful. I thought it was just a sign of his maturity, so I suppressed all my girlish, romantic hopes. But now, looking at the relaxed, genuine smile on his face in those photos… I realized it wasn’t that those activities were childish. It was that doing them with me was a chore. The comment section was a miles-long parade of people calling them a perfect match. All our mutual friends had liked the post. It had more likes than our official relationship announcement did. Just as I was about to close the app, a message popped up. It was from Liam. 【Don’t get the wrong idea. I just took her out to clear her head. Come by the apartment when you have time, she said she wants to apologize to you.】 I frowned, my fingers hovering over the keyboard to type No thanks. A delivery notification suddenly popped up at the top of my screen. I tapped it. It was for the birthday present I had bought for myself weeks ago. The shipping address was still set to his apartment. I thought about it. I did need to make things crystal clear. And I needed to return his keys. A clean break. I got ready quickly and hurried over. But the second I stepped through the door, Chloe sprinted toward me and grabbed my hand. “Chloe, come here! I have a surprise for you!” Before I could react, she dragged me toward the balcony, shoved me outside, and— The door slammed shut. The lock clicked from the inside. It was a chilly March night. The wind was biting. I was only wearing a thin sweater, standing barefoot on the freezing balcony tiles. Through the glass door, I saw Chloe making a grotesque face at me, mouthing the words: “Happy Birthday!” I pounded on the glass, screaming her name. She just giggled, shook her head, and turned back to the living room. From inside, I could hear their laughter. Someone turned the music up. I heard the clinking of glasses. I pounded on the door for ten minutes. My hands were bright red. No one came. Twenty minutes. Half an hour. I started shivering violently. I didn’t know if it was the cold or the panic. I have severe claustrophobia. Liam knows this. Ever since Chloe locked me in that escape room, my claustrophobia had gotten exponentially worse. But right now, he was drinking and laughing with his friends. He had completely forgotten I was on the balcony. I curled into a tight ball in the corner, my body shaking uncontrollably. My throat was so tight I couldn’t even force a sound out. Until my vision went completely white. Right as my eyes fluttered shut, I heard a familiar voice through the glass. “Chloe!” When I woke up again, it was evening. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, the suffocating terror of confinement still lingering from my dreams. My movement woke Liam, who was dozing in the chair beside the hospital bed. “Chloe, you’re finally awake! You terrified me. The doctor said being in a confined space for too long, combined with extreme emotional distress, caused hypoxia and made you pass out.” “She really does want to apologize. You know she’s been spoiled since she was a kid, she doesn’t know where the line is sometimes. But she didn’t mean any real harm. Please don’t hold this against her, okay?” In his desperate, rapid-fire rambling, there wasn’t a single shred of concern about whether this trauma would permanently worsen my claustrophobia. Only excuses for her. I looked at him. I looked at the face I had loved for so many years, a face that now felt completely alien to me. Tears suddenly spilled down my cheeks. “I’m not angry. I just feel profound regret. I never, ever should have dated you.” He froze. He opened his mouth to speak, but his phone screen lit up. Seeing the name [Chloe B.], Liam instantly swallowed his emotions. “I need to step out for a second. Get some rest. I’ll be right back.” He walked out quickly. Driven by a morbid impulse, I pulled myself out of bed and followed him. Through the crack in the heavy fire doors of the stairwell… I saw him sitting next to Chloe. “It’s okay, stop beating yourself up. She won’t be mad. She always gets over it.” Chloe punched him lightly on the arm. “If she can’t even handle this, imagine if she knew you only asked her out because we made a bet! A bet on whether you could get her to sleep with you in a month! She’d absolutely lose her mind!” In that split second, it felt like a bomb detonated inside my skull. Besides a deafening ringing, I couldn’t hear a single thing. Liam covered her mouth, looking around nervously. “Shh! Keep your voice down! That was years ago, take that to your grave!” My legs gave out. It felt like every bone in my body had been vaporized; I couldn’t even stand. The questions that had tormented me for years finally had their answers. Why, when forced to choose between the two of us, I was always the one discarded. Why Liam, who swore he loved me, could stand by and watch her hurt me over and over again. I had been stupid enough to believe he was just naturally non-confrontational and didn’t know how to say no to a friend. I never imagined that every single thing he gave me was a lie. Even what I thought was our beautiful, cinematic meet-cute… was just a predatory bet, and I was the prey. To them, I was never Liam’s girlfriend. I was just a pathetic clown performing for their amusement. In that moment, every last shred of my dignity was annihilated. I clamped my hand over my trembling mouth. I had to leave. Leave this suffocating, fraudulent nightmare. I took a cab back to the hotel, grabbed my luggage, and headed straight for the airport. I changed my ticket to the earliest available international flight. Right before takeoff, a message from Liam popped up on my screen: 【The doctor said you need to stay overnight for observation. Don’t wander off. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.】 Looking at his hypocritical, sickening concern, I laughed until there were tears in my eyes. I didn’t reply. I blocked his number, blocked Chloe’s number, and deleted every single mutual friend we shared. Liam. I’m officially tapping out of your sick little game.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “400797”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I was five years old, I was adopted from the foster system by the wealthy Montgomery family. My sole purpose was to be a companion for their only daughter, Chloe. The very first time Chloe saw me, she grabbed her best friend, Liam, by the hand, ran over, and split her candy in half with me. From that day on, the three of us became an inseparable trio. The “Iron Triangle.” Until the summer after high school graduation, when I finally accepted Liam’s confession of love. After that, Chloe quietly applied to a college three thousand miles away. The night before she was supposed to leave, she went to a bar to drink away her sorrow. She was dragged into a dark alley and brutally assaulted until she died. Liam and I lived the rest of our lives carrying an unbearable, suffocating guilt. When I turned forty, I was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease). The night before I died, Liam held my rapidly deteriorating body, sobbing so hard he shook. “Anna, I love you. I have always loved you.” “But if there is a next life, I have to protect Chloe. I absolutely cannot let anything happen to her ever again.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact day Liam was planning to ask me out. Inside the karaoke room, our classmates were screaming into the microphones, beer bottles clinking loudly against the glass tables. Liam and Chloe were missing. The horrific image of Chloe’s mutilated body in that dark alley flashed violently through my mind. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone and texted her. “Chloe, I’m not feeling well, so I headed home early. Please come home soon.” I grabbed my purse, muttered an excuse to the person sitting next to me, and practically ran out the door. Standing in the elevator, I leaned against the metal wall, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. In this life, I absolutely will not let history repeat itself! When I got back to the Montgomery estate, it was dead silent. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery were already asleep. I tiptoed upstairs. As I passed Chloe’s room, I saw the door was slightly ajar. Sitting on her desk was a framed photo of the three of us from elementary school. Tears fell before I could stop them. In my previous life, I had been so wrapped up in the joy of accepting Liam’s confession. I completely failed to notice Chloe’s forced smiles and her shattered heart. Later, when it was time to submit our college applications, Chloe secretly chose a university in freezing, remote Alaska. The night before she left, she went to that bar. When we finally found her, she was lying in that damp, foul-smelling alley. She looked like a ragdoll that had been torn to pieces. There wasn’t a single patch of untouched skin on her body. The bruises, the lacerations, and the lingering terror and absolute despair in her dilated, lifeless eyes… it became a nightmare that Liam and I could never, ever escape. We stayed together, bound by our massive, shared guilt, trying to keep each other warm while simultaneously torturing each other. Until I was diagnosed with ALS, my body slowly freezing into a living corpse. The night before I passed away, he held me, his scalding tears dropping onto my neck. He said: “Anna, if there is a next life… I have to guard Chloe properly. I can never let anything happen to her again.” … My breath hitched violently, a sharp pain seizing my chest. The tragedy of our past life will absolutely not happen again. I went back to my room and didn’t sleep a wink all night. The next day, the angry, questioning phone call I expected from Liam never came. My iMessage and texts were completely silent. According to the timeline of my past life, after I ghosted his meticulously planned confession, given his personality, he should have stormed over to demand an explanation immediately. I opened my phone and saw a few scattered messages in our class group chat. “Liam has been hanging out with Chloe all day today!” “Yeah! They’re inseparable. Didn’t he act super mysterious yesterday, saying he was going to do something huge?” “And Liam is acting incredibly protective of her today.” “Do you think there’s something going on between them?” My confusion deepened. I put my phone down and went downstairs to get a glass of water. I saw Liam and Chloe sitting in the living room. Chloe was laughing, talking to him while peeling an orange and popping a slice directly into his mouth. Liam didn’t pull away. His gaze was entirely focused on her. When Chloe shifted slightly to the left, his eyes tracked her immediately. Seeing Chloe so vibrant and alive, a wave of intense emotion washed over me. I walked over, clutching my water glass. “Chloe.” She looked up, her smile radiant. “Anna! Come here! The oranges Liam bought are so sweet!” I was just about to sit down when someone suddenly grabbed my arm. Liam yanked me around the corner into the hallway, pinning me aggressively against the wall. He gripped my shoulders so hard it hurt. He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot, his voice dropped to a lethal whisper: “Anna. Stay away from Chloe.” I froze. He continued, “Stay away from me, too. It’s better for all three of us this way.” His eyes were a storm of regret, self-blame, and a complex, indescribable agony. I stared at him, stunned. In a fraction of a second, all the missing pieces connected, exploding in my mind! Liam. He had been reborn too. After that day, I became the sole target of Liam’s “special attention.” As long as I came within ten feet of Chloe, he would materialize instantly, physically wedging himself between us. If I went to the kitchen for water and passed through the living room where she was, his entire body would tense up. If I took three steps toward her, he would immediately stand up. One time, Chloe was standing on a dining chair, trying to reach a photo album on the top shelf of a cabinet. I reached out to help her. Before my hand could even touch hers, Liam lunged forward and roughly swatted my arm away. “I’ve got it.” He shoved my arm so hard I stumbled back two steps. Chloe glared at him. “What is your problem?! Why are you being so mean to Anna?!” He didn’t explain. He just pulled the album down and handed it to her. Chloe turned to me, offering a sweet, apologetic smile. “Just ignore him. He’s been acting like he ate a bowl of gunpowder lately.” With that, she pulled a piece of chocolate from her pocket and shoved it into my hand. “Liam bought it! We can split it! What’s mine is yours~” The chocolate still carried the warmth of her palm. I clutched it tight, my nose stinging with unshed tears. When we were little kids, this was exactly how she had shared her candy with me. But I knew I couldn’t get close to them anymore. I stopped participating in any activities that involved the two of them. Chloe invited me out ten times, and I rejected her ten times. My excuses ranged from being lazy, to having a headache, to needing to study at the library. She finally realized something was wrong. That weekend, she forcibly “arrested” me and dragged me to a dessert shop. Liam followed closely behind, his face dark as a thundercloud. Chloe aggressively scooped her mango shaved ice, her eyes full of worry. “Anna, seriously, what is going on with you?” “The three of us haven’t hung out together in forever. Did you… get into a fight with Liam?” I stirred the boba in my milk tea, unable to look her in the eye. “No. I’m just… the SAT scores are coming out soon, and I’m really anxious.” I tried to change the subject, acting as casual as possible. “Have you thought about which colleges you’re applying to?” “Honestly, the local State University is great. It’s close to home, and their programs are strong. If you go too far away, your parents will worry.” The moment those words left my mouth, Liam, who had been completely silent across the table, snapped his head up. His voice was ice cold. “Staying close to home isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes, the further away certain people are, the better it is for everyone.” The implication was glaringly obvious. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Chloe froze, then lightly shoved his shoulder. “Liam! Watch your tone! Why are you acting like such a jerk?!” She turned back to me, offering a comforting smile. “Anna, seriously, ignore him. He forgot to take his meds today.” Watching Chloe aggressively defend me, my heart felt simultaneously warm and agonizingly broken. Late that night, I curled up in bed, and a flood of beautiful memories crashed over me. At six years old, some neighborhood kids mocked me for being an orphan. Liam and Chloe teamed up and beat them until they cried. At twelve, when I had a high fever, they skipped class, climbed the school fence, and bought me hot soup. At fifteen, sitting on the roof, we screamed at the stars, promising to be “best friends for life.” … All that kindness… it was real. But now, the cautious, disgusted look in Liam’s eyes when he looked at me… that was real, too. The day before the college application portal opened, Chloe and I sat on the swings in the neighborhood park, swaying gently. The setting sun stretched our shadows long across the grass. I hesitated for a long time before finally speaking up. “Chloe, no matter what happens in the future… please, never go to a bar or a club by yourself. It’s not safe.” “If you’re ever feeling upset or depressed, you can call me anytime, okay?” Chloe blinked, then burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, Mom! I don’t even like those loud, annoying places anyway!” I was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when a voice, vibrating with suppressed rage, echoed from behind us. “Anna. Evans.” I didn’t know when Liam had arrived, but he was standing a few yards away, his face looking absolutely murderous. He took long, aggressive strides toward us, grabbed Chloe by the arm, and yanked her off the swing. “We’re leaving.” “Liam, what is your problem?! I’m talking to Anna!” “There’s nothing left to talk about.” Liam dragged her away, shooting a warning glare over his shoulder at me that was thick with venom. “Anna. Stop trying to brainwash Chloe with your cryptic bullshit.” As Chloe was being dragged away, she kept looking back, shooting me confused and apologetic looks. I stood rooted to the spot, watching their silhouettes shrink in the distance, unmoving, until my entire body felt freezing cold. When it was finally time to submit our college applications, I sat right in front of Chloe and Liam and selected the exact same local State University as them. Chloe cheered in excitement. Liam stared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable, but he didn’t say anything else. What they didn’t know was that later that same night, I opened my laptop. I submitted applications to several prestigious universities overseas, and then I spent hours researching the early-onset symptoms of ALS. That weekend, Mrs. Montgomery cooked a massive, elaborate dinner and specifically invited Liam to stay. At the dining table, Mrs. Montgomery kept putting the best cuts of meat onto Liam’s plate, smiling so hard she couldn’t close her mouth. “Liam, eat up. We really appreciate you spending so much time with Chloe lately. This girl has been smiling like a fool all week.” She then shot me a loving look. “In this house, both Chloe and Anna are my precious girls.” Chloe giggled. “Mom, you’re being so cheesy!” Mr. Montgomery chuckled warmly. “Liam is a solid, reliable kid. Knowing he’s looking out for you gives us incredible peace of mind.” The atmosphere at the table was incredibly warm and domestic. Chloe chattered non-stop about her college plans, while Liam offered occasional, quiet agreements. I ate my food silently. It tasted like ash in my mouth. Mrs. Montgomery looked at Liam and Chloe sitting side-by-side, suddenly letting out a soft sigh. “You know, I never really thought about it before, but looking at you two now… Liam and our Chloe really are a perfect match. You look so good together.” The moment the words landed, the entire dining room fell dead silent. Chloe’s face instantly flushed a dark, brilliant red. She stole a shy glance at Liam. Liam didn’t look up from his plate, but he didn’t deny it, either. Mrs. Montgomery then scooped a bowl of soup for me. “And Anna too. I know you’ll find a wonderful man who will love and cherish you.” I took the bowl. My fingertips were ice cold, but I forced a perfectly shy smile onto my face. “Thank you, Mom.” After dinner, I cleared the table and went into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Just as I turned on the faucet, I heard footsteps behind me. Liam stood in the doorway, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper. “Anna. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery just want what’s best for Chloe. They saved you from the foster system. You owe them a massive debt of gratitude.” My heart began to sink, inch by inch. “I logged into the portal and changed your college application. You’re going to the University of Alaska. It’s far away from here. It’s better for you.” The water rushed loudly into the sink. I gripped the ceramic bowl in my hands tightly. He was right. Being far away from here was better for me. But hearing those words come out of his mouth still felt like a jagged knife twisting in my chest. I turned off the water and turned around to face him. “Okay.” He froze for a second. He probably hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. I dried my hands and walked past him. “Liam, protect Chloe. I won’t come near either of you ever again.” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. That night, an email notification lit up my screen. It was an acceptance letter from a top-tier university overseas. Attached was also an invitation to participate in a cutting-edge clinical research program focusing on early intervention for neurodegenerative diseases. I stared at the screen for a very long time before finally knocking on Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery’s bedroom door. I showed them the acceptance letter on my phone. Mrs. Montgomery gasped. “Anna, you want to study abroad?” I nodded. “I want to see the world.” Mr. Montgomery was silent for a moment before asking, “Do Liam and Chloe know?” I shook my head. “Could you… please not tell them just yet?” “I’m afraid they’ll try to stop me. You know how Chloe is; she’ll definitely try to make me stay.” Mrs. Montgomery sighed heavily and gently stroked my hair. “Silly girl. If you want to fly, then fly. We’ll help you keep it a secret from Chloe.” My eyes burned with tears. I dropped to my knees and bowed my head deeply to them. “Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Mom.” Mr. Montgomery pulled me up, his own eyes red. “We’re family. You never have to thank us.” The next day, I booked my flight. The departure date was three days after Chloe’s birthday. Two days before her birthday, I went up to the roof to bring in the laundry. Down in the garden below, Liam and Chloe were sitting together on a bench. Chloe seemed a bit sleepy, her head nodding slightly. And then, her head gently came to rest on Liam’s shoulder. Liam’s body went completely rigid for a fraction of a second. But he didn’t push her away. He slowly lifted his hand and gently stroked her hair. I turned around, my eyes stinging painfully. As soon as I walked back inside, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe: “Anna! Liam is taking me to the amusement park tomorrow! Do you think he’s going to…” Before I could finish typing a reply, she sent a rapid-fire string of blushing emojis. I typed: “He definitely likes you.” She replied instantly: “Really?!?!?!” “Really.” That night, Chloe came into my room and refused to leave my bed. “Anna, honestly, I used to think he liked you. I secretly cried about it so many times.” I turned my head to look at her. She continued, “But I really hate how mean he’s being to you lately. I’ve yelled at him about it so many times, but he never listens.” I smiled softly. “It’s okay. How he treats me doesn’t matter. As long as he treats you well, that’s enough.” “Of course it matters! You’re my best friend! What gives him the right to be mean to you?!” I didn’t say anything. I just pulled her into a hug. Chloe, you don’t know. He’s mean to me because he’s trying to protect you. On Chloe’s birthday, the Montgomerys hosted a small, intimate party at the house. Liam’s entire family was there. Mrs. Montgomery held Chloe’s hand in one of hers, and Liam’s hand in the other. Tears welled in her eyes, but her smile was overwhelmingly joyful. “Seeing you two so happy together… as parents, it’s the greatest comfort we could ever ask for.” I stood on the outskirts of the crowd, watching Chloe’s face flush bright red. Suddenly, she stood up. “Liam, I… I have something to tell you.” The entire room went dead silent. She took a deep breath. “I like you. I’ve liked you since we were kids. Will you… will you be my boyfriend?” Liam stared at her. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly. The hopeful light in Chloe’s eyes began to dim with every passing moment of his silence. Just as she was about to burst into tears… Liam closed his eyes for a second, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, very slightly, but undeniably, he nodded. He said, “Yes.” The room erupted into cheers. Mrs. Montgomery cried tears of joy, covering her mouth. Liam’s parents were grinning from ear to ear. Chloe launched herself like a joyful little bird straight into Liam’s arms, hugging him fiercely. Liam’s arms hovered in the air for a moment, before slowly, securely wrapping around her. He lowered his head and gently kissed the crown of her hair. I stood hidden in the shadows near the doorway, quietly watching this perfect, happy scene unfold. The warm glow of the candles illuminated every smiling face. I thought back to my previous life. I thought of his scalding tears, and the words he had forced out with the last ounce of his strength: “If there is a next life… I have to protect Chloe properly.” Liam. In this life… you did it. I quietly turned around and walked back to my room. I placed the gift I had prepared on Chloe’s desk. It was a glass jar, filled with hundreds of origami stars I had spent the last week folding. Inside every single star, I had written the exact same sentence. “Chloe, be happy.” I rolled my suitcase down the stairs. The party in the living room was still loud and vibrant. No one noticed me. The taxi was waiting outside the gate. I got in. Closed the door. The airport. The security line. The boarding gate. My phone buzzed. A text from Chloe: “Anna!!! Where did you go?! I looked all over the house for you! Mom said you went out to buy me a present?” “Hurry back! Liam gave me a necklace, it’s so beautiful! I want to show you as soon as you get home!” I typed: “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.” I powered the phone off. The plane taxied down the runway and lifted into the air. Outside the window, the lights of the city grew further and further away. I leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes. Memories flashed through my mind like a movie reel. At five years old, Chloe grabbing Liam’s hand and splitting her candy with me. At fifteen, eating popsicles on the roof, promising to be best friends forever. At eighteen, the brilliant light in Liam’s eyes when he confessed his love to me. And in my past life… the sterile white hospital room, him holding my freezing, dying body, his tears burning my skin. “If there is a next life…” Finally, the reel stopped on tonight. In the flickering candlelight, him nodding and saying “Yes.” Chloe throwing herself into his arms, her smile absolute perfection. The tears I had held back for so long finally, uncontrollably, flooded down my face. In the quiet cabin of the airplane, no one noticed. Goodbye, Liam. Goodbye, Chloe. I hope that in this life, the two most precious people I have ever known get everything they ever wanted. I hope you stay safe, happy, and grow old together. As for my battle… it lies thousands of miles away in a foreign country, fighting against a body that is destined to betray me.

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While hiking deep in the mountains, we decided to spend the night in an abandoned chapel. In the middle of the night, I was violently awakened by the unmistakable, sickening sounds of my best friend and my boyfriend sleeping together. I quietly sat up in my sleeping bag to eavesdrop. “You’re a genius for using this hiking trip as an excuse.” “I locked the heavy wooden doors. She can’t escape. There’s an old stone well out back. After she falls asleep, we’ll smash her skull in with the hatchet and dump her at the bottom.” My blood ran completely cold. Trembling, I silently crawled behind the crumbling altar at the front of the chapel to hide. They had absolutely no idea that my hometown was just a few miles from this mountain ridge. And they had absolutely no idea that the deity worshipped in this specific chapel wasn’t a saint. It was a demon. Listening to my boyfriend and my best friend whisper about my murder, a freezing, unnatural gust of wind swept through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. The deep wilderness. A ruined chapel at midnight. Three people. There’s an old superstition in the mountains: Never enter a haunted shrine alone. Looking at my situation now, three people shouldn’t enter one, either. Murdering me. That was the real reason they dragged me out into the wilderness for this hiking trip. I didn’t have the time to feel heartbroken over my boyfriend’s betrayal, and I didn’t have the luxury of wondering why they wanted me dead. Right now, my only thought was how to make it out of here alive. My boyfriend, Carter, had bragged before we went to sleep about securing the heavy iron deadbolt on the main doors. My best friend, Riley, had tightly latched the only two windows. The only remaining exit was a jagged, gaping hole in the chapel’s rotten roof. Right now, this abandoned building was a perfect locked-room trap. If I tried to make a run for it, I would instantly alert them. One against two. I had zero chance of winning a physical fight. Was I really destined to die here tonight? As my heart hammered against my ribs, my eyes darted around and caught sight of the wooden idol resting on the altar. By the pale moonlight filtering through the roof, I could clearly see the idol’s features. It was a carving of a short, hunched old man squatting on a pedestal. He had a round face, a creepy smile, a crescent moon carved into his forehead, and a massive beard that touched the floor. He wore a complex, blood-red crown. It was the Caretaker of the Earth. I instinctively looked at the idol’s eyes. Normal statues of the Caretaker always have intricately carved eyes. But the eye sockets of this specific idol were completely hollow, resembling two pitch-black, bottomless pits. This was the exact entity from my hometown’s darkest urban legends! It was only then that I remembered I had never told Carter the exact location of the rural town where I grew up. Because I hadn’t been back in years, and Carter had driven a completely unfamiliar backroad to get here, I hadn’t even realized we were on the outskirts of my hometown. This meant that if I could just escape this chapel and run into the woods, I would eventually hit familiar territory and find the neighboring villages. But the only way out of this chapel… was him. But local lore always warned: Once you invite the Caretaker, it is almost impossible to send him away. I gritted my teeth. Walking on my tiptoes, I carefully bypassed the corner where those sickening, intimate noises were coming from. I crept up to the idol, reaching into the shadows behind the pedestal to pull out a single, unlit wax candle. Placing candles or offerings behind the idol was a tradition in these parts, meant to make it easier for passing travelers to pay their respects. Lighting three candles was a standard prayer of respect. But lighting exactly one candle… was a desperate summon. This was something my grandmother had taught me. But at the same time, she had given me a terrifying warning. “If you ever find yourself facing certain death, light a single candle to the Caretaker and sincerely whisper your plea. The Caretaker is immensely powerful and can solve any problem. But successfully summoning him is a massive gamble. It all depends on your fate!” “However, unless you are completely out of options, absolutely never light a single candle to him. Inviting a demon is easy, but banishing it is hell. Catastrophic things will happen.” My grandmother had repeated that final warning to me countless times. But right now, I was truly facing a brutal execution. I had no choice but to follow her instructions. I quietly pulled a lighter from my pocket and lit the wick. The tiny, flickering orange flame was glaringly obvious in the pitch-black room. Cold sweat poured down my face. I closed my eyes, pressed my trembling palms together, and silently pleaded in my head. Caretaker of the Earth, Carter and Riley are going to murder me. I don’t want to die. I want to live. I don’t want to die, please let me live… I placed the candle onto the iron tray at his feet. My grandmother had said that if the candle burned down completely within one minute, it meant the Caretaker had accepted your request. If it went out, you were doomed. My entire body shook as I stared at the candle, anxiously waiting, praying for it to melt faster. “Where are you? Sylvia—” Carter’s cold, menacing voice suddenly pierced the darkness. A freezing chill shot straight up my spine. I scrambled up onto the altar and huddled directly behind the wooden idol. “Sylvia! Where are you? Where did she go?!” It was Riley’s voice. I could hear the sheer, frantic panic in her tone. I crouched down, making myself as small as possible, using the idol to block my body. “Where is she?!” “I don’t know! I turned around and her sleeping bag was empty!” “Find her, now! I have a really bad feeling about this. Do you think she heard us talking?!” “Check the corners! She has to be in here somewhere. I double-checked the locks on the doors and windows myself.” My heart violently leaped into my throat. Because I could hear the crunching sound of heavy hiking boots slowly creeping toward my side of the room. I clamped both hands over my mouth, desperately trying to muffle my own rapid, terrified breathing. After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps in the chapel faded away. Riley’s voice echoed again: “Carter, did she manage to run away? I literally can’t find her anywhere. Did we just not hear the door open because we were too… focused?” “Maybe…” Just as I thought I had narrowly escaped death, Carter’s next sentence made my blood run completely cold. “Why is there a lit candle sitting here?” After a moment of dead, suffocating silence, the brutal sound of a heavy hatchet violently chopping into wood echoed through the room. CRACK—! The top half of the Caretaker’s wooden head was cleaved clean off. It tumbled heavily off the altar and crashed onto the stone floor, leaving the idol with only half a nose and a carved mouth. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes. I was so paralyzed by terror that I couldn’t even cry out loud. “Damn it, I missed,” Carter’s voice was dripping with annoyance. He stared directly at the spot where I was hiding, enunciating every single word. “Sylvia. I originally planned to chop your head clean off with one swing. That way, you wouldn’t feel any pain.” My legs felt like jelly, but I took advantage of his distraction, leaped off the back of the altar, and limped frantically toward the heavy wooden doors at the front of the chapel. “Sylvia, you really shouldn’t have woken up. After all, our plan was to let you die peacefully in your sleep.” Riley laughed maliciously, then ordered Carter, “Hurry up and get her. Stop wasting time.” I pounded on the doors with everything I had, but the rotting, antique wood was unbelievably sturdy. It wouldn’t budge an inch. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THEY’RE TRYING TO KILL ME! PLEASE!” My screams for help were entirely useless. In this isolated, abandoned mountain shrine, it was physically impossible for anyone to be walking by. “AHHHHH!” The heavy steel hatchet slammed into the wood right next to my ear. If it had been one inch closer, it would have sliced my ear clean off. Riley giggled flirtatiously. “You’re so annoying, your aim is terrible tonight. Let me do it this time.” I turned around and dropped to my knees, frantically bowing and begging them. “Please don’t kill me! Whatever you guys want, I’ll give it to you! I’ll step aside, I promise I won’t tell anyone you cheated on me! Just let me go!” Riley smiled sweetly. “But, Sylvia. Only dead girls don’t tell lies.” Suddenly, I felt incredibly cold. It wasn’t a psychological chill. It was a visceral, physical, freezing drop in temperature. A violent gust of freezing wind swept through the closed room, and all three of us heard a strange, rustling noise. Carter violently whipped his head around. “Who’s there?!” But there was no one behind them. Just shattered pieces of rotting wood and swirling dust. Riley suddenly looked terrified. She grabbed Carter’s arm, her voice tight with anxiety. “Baby, I suddenly feel really, really cold. Is it because you hit the idol with the hatchet? Is the spirit angry?” Carter patted her hand, trying to comfort her. “Don’t be scared, I’m right here. Let’s just kill her first…” Saying that, Carter looked at me, picked up a secondary hatchet from the floor, and took a step closer. But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something. The single candle I had lit… had completely burned down to a puddle of wax. Which meant… my summon had worked! WHOOSH— The previously dead-silent night suddenly exploded into a howling gale. I knelt on the floor, my face deathly pale. Because I could see the Caretaker. He had materialized, completely silently, directly behind them. He was staring at me with a sickeningly sweet smile, not saying a single word. His face was frozen in a perfectly symmetrical, terrifyingly cheerful grin. My trembling finger pointed over Carter’s shoulder. “The Caretaker… he’s right behind you…” Carter violently spun around. “WHAT THE FUCK!” He grabbed Riley and leaped backward, staring at the entity with pure, defensive hostility. “Where the hell did you come from?! We locked the doors from the inside!” The Caretaker maintained his creepy smile. “Someone invited me. So, I arrived.” “Carter, Riley. You are committing murder for money.” He was incredibly short, barely reaching Carter’s chest. Because he looked so physically unimposing, Carter’s hostility shifted into arrogant annoyance. Carter scoffed at him. “None of your damn business!” Riley tugged hard on Carter’s jacket, lowering her voice. “Baby, he’s terrifying. Let’s just get out of here…” “Tomorrow at noon, buy a Powerball ticket. At 6:00 PM, buy the exact crypto coin you lost eleven grand on last month. At 7:00 PM, stand outside the Neon Tavern downtown.” Carter remained deeply suspicious. “Why the hell should I believe you?” The Caretaker kept smiling. He slowly turned his head to look at Riley, his voice rattling like a mechanical automaton. “Tomorrow at 5:00 AM, go for a morning jog. At noon, take a walk across the downtown suspension bridge. At 9:00 PM, call 911 for the very first elderly woman you encounter.” Riley clung to Carter, her voice trembling violently. “What… what exactly are you?!” “I am the Caretaker of the Earth.” The entity’s empty eyes seemed to glint in the dark. He looked incredibly sincere. “You are only killing her for the fifty thousand dollars in her savings account. Do exactly as I say, and you will walk away with tens of millions.” Having their darkest secrets exposed so casually, the two of them exchanged a shocked look. For some reason, they began to actually trust this bizarre, spectral entity. Because everything he had just said was 100% accurate. “You cannot kill her, or I will be very angry,” the Caretaker said, pointing a short, wooden finger at me. Walking away with tens of millions without having to murder anyone, and without having to live in paranoia about hiding a corpse. If they backed off now, they didn’t even have to worry about me calling the cops. After all, they hadn’t committed any actual crime yet. The worst they were guilty of was cheating. It was a guaranteed, zero-risk jackpot. After a few minutes of whispered debate, Carter and Riley chose to trust him. “Fine. But what happens if we do it and we don’t get the money?” The Caretaker let out a raspy chuckle. “If you don’t get the money, you can chop me to pieces. I will die in her place.” The way he phrased it was incredibly disturbing, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. Just like that, a brutal, backwoods murder was completely defused by a few sentences from a ghost. My execution was permanently canceled. But… I felt a deep, gnawing sense that something was horribly, terribly wrong. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Since all the cards were on the table and our relationship was officially over, Riley wordlessly packed up their gear, and the two of them hiked down the mountain in the dark. Leaving me alone with the Caretaker. “What about you.” His voice made me jump out of my skin. “What?” The Caretaker stared dead at me. His face still carried that perfectly symmetrical, horrifyingly cheerful grin. “What do you want?” “I already got what I wanted. I survived. Thank you, Caretaker.” “Not enough.” I finally realized what was so horribly wrong about him. From the very beginning, every single time he spoke, his carved, wooden mouth had never once opened. My grandmother had warned me. Only a corpse-stealing demon speaks without opening its mouth. “Sylvia, the Caretaker isn’t a saint. He’s a demon.” I finally remembered that exact sentence. That night, I fled the abandoned shrine in absolute terror. Not long after, Carter actually struck it rich. The Powerball ticket he bought won him a ten-million-dollar jackpot.

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After the divorce, my mother immediately stuck her nose back into my love life. She found a guy. An engineer. Handsome, loaded, and he spent nine months of the year working on remote job sites. His only drawback? A five-year-old son who was allegedly “mentally unstable.” My mother asked if I minded being a stepmom. I laughed. Why go through labor when you can just push a button and get a kid instantly? Isn’t the government worried about the birth rate anyway? I’ll take that deal. Chapter 1 David Vance was a busy man. We scheduled our first date at a coffee shop right downstairs from his downtown office. He showed up wearing light gray technical workwear. He had sharp, striking features, but a gentle smile. I was shocked. I didn’t think my mother had connections to resources this high-quality. Between sips of coffee, he gave me a brief breakdown of his life. Thirty-five years old. High six-figure salary. Field engineer for international infrastructure projects. He was almost always traveling overseas. After the conversation, he made it clear he was interested, but he hesitated before adding a caveat. “I’m not sure if Mrs. Miller told you, but I have a five-year-old son. He’s in kindergarten.” I nodded. I understood teenage rebellion, but I couldn’t comprehend how a five-year-old could be “mentally unstable.” Did David have anger issues? Some hidden, dark vices? I looked him up and down again. His hands were clasped tightly into fists, resting nervously on the table. He offered me a smile that was the definition of painfully earnest and maybe a little slow. He looked like a decent guy. “Can I ask why you and your ex got divorced?” David was silent for a moment. “It wasn’t a divorce. I’m a widower. She passed away from an amniotic fluid embolism during childbirth.” I froze. My mother had conveniently left that part out. “Because of my job, I was traveling all over the world when he was born. He grew up with his grandparents. When I finally brought him to live with me at age four, he just…” Since we were laying it all on the table, he rubbed his hands together awkwardly, testing the waters. I thought about it for a long time. Finally, I said, “I have a three-year-old daughter. We are a package deal. She has to live with me. I need to know if you can accept that.” My daughter, Goldie, is a little Golden Retriever I rescued from a puppy mill bust. I spent eight grand on her surgeries, which started a cold war with my ex-husband. We divorced six months later. David blinked for three seconds. The moment I pulled out a picture of Goldie, he let out a massive sigh of relief. Aside from Goldie, David knew my situation. Thirty years old. A freelance ghostwriter bringing in pennies a month. Practically a hermit. Because of my low income, I’d been living off my mom since the divorce, and she never let me forget it. “Should we swap numbers? Maybe keep talking?” I was satisfied with David. He needed a wife to take care of his son, and I needed his high salary to support my hermit lifestyle. More importantly, I am a total sucker for a pretty face. After we swapped numbers, I immediately Venmoed him my half of the coffee bill. David stared at the notification on his phone for a few seconds, then frowned, hesitating. “If… if you think I’m okay, maybe I could bring you to meet my son sometime soon.” “Honestly, he’s only ‘unstable’ occasionally. Most of the time, when he’s quiet, he’s actually pretty cute.” I didn’t say anything. He gritted his teeth and made a final offer. “I’m really impressed with you. If you’re willing, I’ll take care of all your existing debt as a gesture of goodwill, and I’ll transfer my paycheck to you every month for the household.” “Let’s do tomorrow. I have to take Goldie to the vet for a check-up tomorrow afternoon anyway. We can let them meet then.” After setting the time, I picked up Goldie from the groomer and went home, giving my mom a brief summary. I truly didn’t understand why David got so tense whenever the child was mentioned. A five-year-old. Even if he had a bad temper or was a brat, how “unstable” could he possibly be? “Mom, have you actually seen his son?” My mom scratched her head. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. The kid looks fine. Just as polite as his dad, but quiet. Introverted. Won’t talk to anyone.” “What are you afraid of with a five-year-old? It’s not like he can tear the roof off.” The next day, after Goldie’s vet appointment, I made a special trip to the mall. I bought some trendy little toys and some gourmet donuts. David picked me up. It was only then I realized he owned a massive, luxury condo right in the city center. Because he was so busy, his son was usually living there all alone. “For the past few years, his mother’s parents haven’t been in good health, so they couldn’t care for him anymore. I have a live-in nanny who comes to cook his meals and manage the house.” “What’s his name?” “Leo. His mother picked it.” I stopped talking. David parked the car in the underground garage, took the shopping bags from me, and led me inside. “Leo is still young. He might… need a lot of patience. A lot of care.” “I came back yesterday and gave the place a deep clean…” Before he could finish, he opened the door and found the living room in absolute chaos. cushions were thrown everywhere, and books were scattered across the floor. Leo was sitting alone on the sofa, stuffing a piece of mashed-up cake into his mouth with his bare hands. “Leo Vance!” David was furious. Leo stared blankly at Goldie for a second, then turned around and sprinted back into his room without a backward glance. David had a massive headache. He apologized to me profusely. Leo had locked his door tight. No matter what David said, he wouldn’t open it. It was going to take some time for the nanny to get back and clean up the mess, so I sat on the sofa with David, making small talk. Suddenly, David sighed. “He tells people he can hear cats and dogs talking. He claims a dog ‘found a mommy’ for him.” “But don’t worry, I’ve taken him to specialists. The doctors said it shouldn’t affect his normal development.” Since I talk to Goldie all the time, I didn’t instantly think Leo was unstable because of that. He was only five, after all. His dad had brought home a strange woman. Declaring ownership through destruction is standard toddler protocol. Just as I was thinking about how to bridge the gap with Leo, he quietly cracked his bedroom door open an inch. We made eye contact for a second. He looked away, spotted the nanny rushing in to clean, and slammed the door shut again. He was afraid of the nanny. I told the nanny to leave the trash for now and go home early. Then I walked over and knocked on Leo’s bedroom door. “The nanny is gone. If you’re hungry, come out and eat.” After a long silence, he pulled the door open, peeking out to confirm the woman was actually gone before he would step out. Goldie wagged her tail excitedly, panting, and began circling him. He looked uncomfortable, tugging at his clothes, which seemed a bit ill-fitting. Like a little thief, he reached out and touched Goldie on the head. Then, he swiped a donut from the shopping bag and stuffed it into his pocket. The nanny hadn’t prepared lunch, so we ordered in from a nice restaurant. “Are you my mommy?” Leo was sitting across from me, and the question came out of nowhere. Goldie was lying next to him and barked twice the moment he spoke. Leo looked up, staring intently at David and me. He had incredibly long eyelashes. His face was flushed, still carrying some chubby baby fat. He looked like a sweet little strawberry shortcake. David was right; Leo was actually pretty cute. “Yes,” David answered. “Would you like to live with her?” “Dad is a liar!” Leo’s eyes filled with tears, stubborn defiance in his voice. “My mommy died a long time ago!” The atmosphere at the table instantly became tense. I smiled, peeled a shrimp, and placed it on his plate. “I’m not your mommy. You can call me Aunt Maya. Or, if you want, you can call me Mom.” “Just like my nanny?” He offered a naive smile, but it looked a little mean. “No. I will live with you. I will discipline you when your dad isn’t around. The nanny might not spank you, but I will.” His eyes filled with a fresh layer of tears. The very next afternoon, David and I went to City Hall and got our marriage license. Then, he hurriedly helped me move my things into the condo. David had received an overseas assignment from his company two weeks ago, but because this trip was going to be for a long time, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave Leo alone. That was the only reason he had delayed. “I’m going to be gone for over six months this time. I’m trusting you to take care of Leo. If anything happens, text me. I’ll reply as soon as I can.” “Leo might be a handful at kindergarten. I apologize in advance; you’ll probably have to listen to the teachers scold you for him.” “If he does something wrong and makes you angry, you have my permission to discipline him harshly. Just… don’t bruise him.” “Video call me if you miss me.” At the airport gate, David was micromanaging every detail, giving me endless instructions. I had wanted Leo to take a day off to see him off, but the boy stubbornly refused to come. David’s silhouette grew smaller as he walked down the jet bridge, finally disappearing into the crowd. On the way back, I made a detour to a grocery store. Ever since I noticed Leo was afraid of that nanny, I had David fire her. With no live-in help, I had to cook. Day one of being a mom. To make a good impression on Leo, I drove to pick him up from school. But I saw him lingering at the school gate with his friends, refusing to come out. The other kids were actually circling him, jumping up and down and singing a song. What is this? Why are they playing at the gate? Why are they singing? It’s not Leo’s birthday. I couldn’t take waiting any longer. I got out of the car, walked over, and lifted Leo right out of the crowd. “Sorry, boys, but Leo’s mom said he has to come home early for dinner today. He can’t play right now.” I buckled Leo into the back seat. The loose, floppy seat belt was a joke on him. I forgot to buy a booster seat. Goldie was sniffing all over him, licking his hands, nudging his chin with her head. “What do you want for dinner?” He said nothing. I almost forgot. He didn’t seem to like his new stepmom very much. I changed the subject. “I fired the nanny.” I secretly watched his reaction in the rearview mirror. He looked up, looking incredibly surprised and happy. But his answer to my previous question was completely nonsensical. “I want lasagna. BBQ ribs. Sweet and sour chicken…” Cold sweat broke out on my back. I had vastly overestimated myself. In the end, I took him out to a diner to solve the dinner problem. Chapter 2 After dinner, we went home. I fed Goldie, and Leo meekly washed his hands and went to his room to look at picture books. Where is this kid ‘unstable’? This kid is perfectly normal. I was happy for the peace and quiet. I opened my laptop and started writing. By 9:00 PM, Leo was still playing Sudoku. He had no intention of going to sleep. I took his puzzle away and told him to go take a shower. He gripped his bedroom doorframe tightly, screaming, “I can wash myself! I can wash myself!” I pried his stubborn fingers loose. “Can you actually get yourself clean? You smell like a locker room.” He let go in shock, his cheeks puffing out in anger. He looked like a cute little pufferfish. “Liar! I take a shower every single day!” In the end, I forced him into the bathroom. Leo’s bathroom had a huge soaking tub. The faucet was set very low, making it easy for him to fill the tub himself. I stripped his clothes off, put him in the tub, and started scrubbing him like I was washing a muddy potato. When I got to his arm, he suddenly started crying out in pain. I thought he was just being dramatic, but when I looked closer, his eyes were filled with tears. That’s when I noticed a massive purple bruise on his right upper arm. I became serious. “How did this happen?” He wouldn’t say. I lightly swatted his rear end, feigning fury. “Leo Vance. Speak!” He wailed like a teakettle. “If I wasn’t good, the nanny would pinch me. She said I was a charity case that nobody wanted.” I was stunned. It was only then that I realized his question, “Just like my nanny?”, hadn’t been a challenge. It was a test. He was truly afraid that I would abuse him. Regaining my composure, I softened my voice, wrapped him in a giant beach towel, and lifted him out of the tub. “How long was she doing this to you? Why didn’t you tell your dad?” I pulled his pajamas onto him, feeling frustrated on his behalf. “You seem plenty talkative with me. Why do you go mute around your father?” “I only see Dad for a little bit. By the time I see him, my owies don’t hurt anymore.” I pulled the pajama hood over his head. “Don’t hurt? Then who was just screaming bloody murder in the bathroom?” “Listen to me. If anyone ever bullies you again, you punch them right back. You understand? I’ve got your back. We don’t need to tell your dad.” I tucked him into bed, then turned around to fix his closet. What is this kid even wearing? Everything is high-water. “No new clothes.” Leo was peeking out from under the covers, his voice muffled. “The nanny took all the new clothes Dad bought me.” Motherfucker. Suppressing anger only gives you ulcers. At midnight, I was tossing and turning, unable to sleep, plotting a way to teach her a lesson. But I didn’t expect that before I could go looking for her, she would come right to me. The teacher called. Leo had gotten into a fight at kindergarten. I peeled into the parking lot. When I got there, that old witch was sitting on the floor, screaming and crying, putting on a full performance. I pulled Leo behind me, knelt down, and checked him over multiple times. I only found a tiny scratch on his face from another kid’s fingernail, and I let out a sigh of relief. “You’re this little brat’s parent! Look at what he did to my precious grandson!” I bent down and pointed to the child, who was covered in bruises and had a black eye. I asked Leo, “Did you do this?” He wouldn’t answer. “Leo Vance! Look up at me when I’m talking to you!” He meekly looked up, his hands twisting nervously in front of his chest, muttering softly, “I did it.” “He started it. He said I was an orphan with no mommy. I got mad.” I patted his head and praised him. “Good. Good job.” The teacher looked like she had just swallowed a fly. “Leo’s mom, it’s one thing for the children to not know better, but you are an adult.” The nanny screamed, “Just an apology? My grandson is beaten like this and all you want is an apology? She has to pay!” “Leo didn’t do anything wrong. I’m standing right here. Since when does Leo not have a mom?” I turned around and smiled at the nanny, who was still wailing on the floor. “Funny you should mention money. I just realized some cash is missing from my desk drawer. I was just about to come find you.” She shivered, tightening her jaw in defiance. “What are you talking about?” “It doesn’t matter if you admit it. The security cameras in the house saw everything.” She scrambled to her feet, glaring at me viciously. “I don’t care! Your son beat my grandson, and you’re going to pay. If you don’t, I’ll make you sorry!” Her face twisted into a smug smile of certainty. “I know your man isn’t in the country right now.” I tightened my fists, ready to throw hands. But the teacher grabbed my wrist. “Do not get emotional. An apology will solve this. His father is… he’s powerful. Not someone you want to make an enemy of.” Just as she finished speaking, a voice came from the doorway. “Who? Who is bullying my son?” Rex’s father was only five-foot-seven, but he was built like a brick shithouse. Standing there, he looked like a retaining wall. His eyes darted to Leo behind me. “This is the little brat who bullied my son?” I shoved Leo behind the teacher. In a low voice, I said, “Call the cops.” At that moment, I was incredibly grateful that after being sexually harassed by a former boss, I had taken Sanda and Muay Thai classes. That training was the only reason I was able to hold my own until the police arrived. I turned over all the video footage of the nanny stealing from the condo to the officers. The nanny was held in custody for seven days for theft. I also paid the medical bills to settle the fight between Leo and Rex. On the drive home, Leo didn’t say a word. But that night, while he was eating noodles, he suddenly burst out crying and started apologizing. I pulled out a tissue, looking disgusted, and wiped his eyes. “Why are you crying like this? If your dad saw this, he’d think I was abusing you.” He climbed onto a kitchen chair, cupped my face in his hands, his face a mess of tears and snot. “Does it hurt? I’ll make it better.” I pulled him down and hugged him, patting his back. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” “Leo, I want to praise you. You did a good job today.” “If someone bullies you, you can hit back, or you can report them. If your father were here today, he would have made the same choice I did.” “I just want you to know, no matter what happens, your dad and I are always your strongest supporters. Do you understand?” He cried again. How can a child have this many tears? At least Goldie was good; her broad shoulders were always available for me to wipe my tears on. I sighed, helplessly patting his back. “Baby, let’s eat first, okay?” After dinner, Leo played with blocks for a bit before getting sleepy. I handled the clothes stripping, tub tossing, the whole routine. By now, bathing Leo was an art form. I was washing that potato with silky-smooth efficiency. He let me pull his clean, new pajamas onto him. Goldie wagged her tail and circled his bed. Ever since we moved in, Goldie didn’t sleep with me anymore. She was obsessed with Leo. I was annoyed, but I was also glad he had Goldie to keep him company. He wasn’t unstable. He was just too lonely. He desperately wanted his dad to spend more time with him. I woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. That’s when I realized the little brat had somehow ended up in my bed. He was sleeping on top of the covers in his new dinosaur pajamas. Goldie was lying at his feet, using her stomach to keep them warm. My eye twitched. I lifted the covers and tucked him in. He mumbled something and snuggled into my arms, whispering a single word. Of course, the little brat woke up with a fever the next morning. And not just him. Goldie, who had spent the night warming his feet, was sick too. I called the school to excuse him and immediately rushed both the kid and the dog to the vet. Goldie had to stay at the animal hospital for two days for observation. I drove Leo home first. On the way back, he suddenly yelled for me to stop the car. He scrambled out of his booster seat with immense effort. He crouched next to a dumpster and looked up at me. “She looks pregnant. Can we take her home?” I touched his red, frozen nose and his cold cheeks. I smiled. “Of course.” I took off my jacket, and together, we rushed the pregnant tabby cat to the pet hospital. Leo asked me, “Why can’t we bring her home? She won’t fight with Goldie.” “The doctor needs to check if she and the babies are healthy. I’ll bring you back on Saturday to pick her and Goldie up, okay?” He nodded solemnly. Because of this, he was distracted and anxious for two solid days. Early Saturday morning, he was burrowing around under my covers, refusing to let me sleep until I woke up. Left with no other choice, I braved the morning cold to take him to pick up the zoo. Goldie hadn’t seen me in days and was furiously enthusiastic, jumping all over me. Leo, on the other hand, was entirely focused on the pregnant cat. One minute he was feeding her a cat treat, the next he was petting her belly. Goldie got so jealous she was whining and circling around the apartment.

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This is the story of the day before my boyfriend was supposed to finish his three-year assignment at one of our remote manufacturing plants. I hadn’t told him I was coming; I wanted to surprise him. When I got to the apartment door, I heard him inside, having a dinner party with his colleagues. “Come on, just let Chloe have one glass of wine. Don’t be such a protective tightwad.” “Seriously, you guard her so closely, you might as well just lock her in a tower.” Then, I heard that familiar voice respond. “Stop it, guys. She’s my star trainee. If she gets pissed off, I’m the one who suffers for it.” My heart did a painful somersault. Just yesterday, he had grumbled to me over text: [This trainee is so incompetent. It’s exhausting to teach her! I’m so over it!] But now he was calling her his “star.” I pushed down the instant flash of suspicion, punched the code into the keypad, and opened the door. Chapter 1 The second the door swung open, the laughter inside stopped dead. Several pairs of eyes snapped toward me, filled with shock and defensiveness at my sudden appearance. Blake casually removed his hand from the back of the girl’s chair. He forced a look of absolute delight onto his face at my arrival. “Audrey! What are you doing here?” Around the table, glances were exchanged, followed by a few forced, awkward laughs. I didn’t respond. I just looked directly into Blake’s deep, bright eyes and said, “Aren’t you flying back to New York tomorrow? I came to pick you up.” The room fell silent. Even Blake’s smile faded a little. Then, the sharp sound of glass shattering broke the tension. Someone shouted urgently: “Chloe!” I felt Blake go instantly rigid in front of me. He threw my hand off in a second. “I’ll go check on her.” Half the sentence was lost in the rush of air he left behind. In the blink of an eye, Blake had rushed to the girl’s side. She stood there looking completely helpless, a shattered glass at her feet. Her gaze was filled with suppressed grievance and vulnerability as she gazed adoringly up at Blake, who was checking her anxiously for injuries. A few knowing looks floated my way, tinged with schadenfreude. “It’s fine, it’s just a glass,” Blake said, trying to comfort her. Someone else joked, “Hey, let it break! Breaking glass is good luck, right? Fresh start and all that.” “Besides, it’s just a glass. Your mentor adores you; are you really afraid he’s going to yell at you?” The girl cast a timid glance at me. Blake followed her gaze, looking over. Our eyes met in mid-air. He froze for a second, as if finally remembering I was in the room. He forced a casual chuckle. “I’m always giving her a hard time at work, so she’s a little scared of me. Breaking a glass nearly scared her to death.” “Come, let me introduce you. This is my trainee, Chloe Bennett.” Chloe Bennett. I knew her very well. In Blake’s texts, she was the girl who was incompetent, clumsy, and always getting into trouble. He was always complaining that mentoring her was a massive headache. I felt bad for him and asked if I should call the plant manager—a friend of my father’s—to switch trainees. Blake had refused, saying it was a learning experience and that he couldn’t let my father down. It seemed there was another reason entirely. At the very least, his actual “headache” over Chloe wasn’t one-thousandth of what he’d told me. I ignored his cheerful introduction. I just looked at the pile of shards on the floor. “It’s just a glass. Who cares that it broke?” “Audrey, let’s not make a deal out of this.” Blake’s tone was solemn, as if he were trying to teach me a lesson in manners. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault,” Chloe said, moving to apologize by bending over to pick up the pieces. Blake stopped her immediately. He started cleaning up the mess for her. But the moment his eyes fell on the shards, he froze. The crystal fragments reflected the light beautifully. That was the gift I had given Blake for Valentine’s Day last year. Custom-made, private reserve crystal. Only two in the world—his and mine. I was too proud to say “forever,” so I used the gift to express it. He looked up at me carefully, tentatively. After several attempts to speak, he finally said, “Audrey, it was my fault. It had nothing to do with Chloe—” “It’s fine, it’s just a glass,” I interrupted him, my voice flat. “If it breaks, you get a new one.” In the past, he had treasured every single gift I gave him, not allowing anyone to touch them. Yet today, everyone at the party was using paper cups. Including Blake himself. That single broken crystal glass was the smoking gun of his blatant favoritism toward Chloe. It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t baseless paranoia. Even before Blake had said that sentence, I was trying to rationalize his behavior. I was blaming my discomfort on oversensitivity. But the facts were right there. I couldn’t lie to myself. At the dinner table, his colleagues tried too hard to obscure the truth. They kept telling me stories about Blake’s strictness and hilarious mistakes Chloe had made under his supervision, trying to frame it as a strict-mentor/clumsy-apprentice dynamic. But they couldn’t hide the edge of hostility in their tone toward me. It was as if my appearance had forcibly broken up the perfect couple in their eyes. They tried to run interference for Blake, but couldn’t resist sticking up for Chloe. My blatant coldness caused the party to end awkwardly. After everyone left, Blake had me sit on the sofa in the living room. He knelt down and carefully placed some cozy, pink slippers in front of me, taking off my heels. He made me hot tea and brought over some fruit. Then he rolled up his sleeves to go clean up the mess in the dining room. He was exactly like he used to be—attentive, detailed, taking care of my every need. I looked at the steaming tea on the table and remembered college, how Blake always followed right behind me. I had a bad temper back then. Proud, cold, and unapproachable. Blake was the warm, friendly guy who could talk to anyone. He pursued me relentlessly for four years. He was like a servant who willingly accepted my dominance, ready to follow my commands at a moment’s notice. He wouldn’t let other guys get near me, wouldn’t let anyone else try to do me favors. For anything involving me, big or small, he refused to let anyone else handle it. “You’re my Rapunzel, Audrey. I can only rest easy when you’re tucked away safely in your tower.” I struggled in the memories, almost starting to let go of my reason. Then came the click of the lock. The door opened. Chloe Bennett had come back. She nodded at me but didn’t speak. She walked directly to the shoe rack, opened it, dug around, closed it, and finally, her gaze fell on my feet. Her expression was timid, but her words carried a definite edge of provocation. “Um, Audrey? Those are my slippers you’re wearing…” They were pink house shoes, very cute, but not my style. However, Blake was wearing a dark blue pair. I had assumed Blake had specifically prepared a matching couple’s set for my visit. Hearing her words, I lowered my eyes for a moment, then stood up and took the shoes off. The moment my bare feet touched the hardwood floor, a wave of coldness surged through me, chilling me to the core. I changed back into my own high heels and looked down at Chloe. I was practically laughing from rage. I wasn’t even planning on counting her in this, initially. But how could someone be so stupid as to go begging for a slap in the face? “Audrey!” Blake appeared from behind me. The sound of his rapid footsteps betrayed his anxiety. He didn’t hesitate for a second. He stood directly between me and Chloe, terrified I was going to do something to her. “I didn’t have time to tell you beforehand. I’m living in the factory dorms right now, so I let Chloe stay here temporarily.” “She was afraid you’d get the wrong idea and offered to stay in a hotel.” “But it’s very late now. There are probably no rooms left.” Before Chloe could explain anything, Blake had already found the perfect excuse for her. I remained silent. I just scanned the room briefly, and I already saw many matching couple’s items. The place was filled with traces of two people living together. Blake tried to offer another explanation: “Chloe’s boyfriend comes over occasionally.” “Is that so?” “Yes.” Blake’s gaze didn’t waver. After a brief staredown, a sarcastic laugh escaped my lips. “Fine. Whatever you say.” I looked around the fully renovated, two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment. “So, how much rent are you collecting from her a month?” Blake froze. “What rent?” Once he understood my meaning, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “She’s just a college grad who only started working a little while ago. How much money do you think she has?” “Do you really have to pick a fight over a few thousand dollars?” I had known Blake for so long, and yet this was the first time I had ever seen this aggressive, defensive side of him. I looked at him silently, feeling completely estranged. “She’s a young girl, living in an apartment rented in your name, and you’re actively paying her rent.” “You’re so thoughtful toward her. Why didn’t you spare a thought for her reputation?” Blake’s favoritism toward Chloe was undisguised. That’s why his colleagues found it normal, and instead felt repulsed by my sudden appearance as the official girlfriend. In their eyes, Blake and Chloe were the couple. Realizing he had lost control of his temper, Blake tried to explain further. But a sob came from behind him. Chloe wiped away tears. “Ment… Blake, I should just go. Don’t fight because of me.” Blake panicked, turning around to grab her tightly. “Do you know what time it is? Where are you going to go!” Chloe bit her lip in grievance, tears flowing down her face. “You don’t need to worry about me. I have my ways.” “If I don’t worry about you, who will!” Blake’s eyes were filled with anxiety. He turned and shouted at me: “Audrey, I’ll find a time to explain everything to you properly, but this has nothing to do with Chloe.” “Don’t take it out on her!” “It’s the middle of the night. Where do you expect a girl like her to go?” I let out a cold laugh. I turned around without a second thought and grabbed my suitcase, which I hadn’t even had time to open. Watching this trashy, melodramatic exchange between the cheating scumbag and his mistress was infuriating, and my breeding wouldn’t allow me to go crazy and scream. I wasn’t going to play Chloe’s games. I was genuinely leaving. Behind me came Blake’s anxious shout: “Audrey, where are you going!” “Wait for me!” Chapter 2 Yet until the moment I got into a taxi to a hotel, I didn’t see him chase after me. I stood on the balcony of the penthouse suite, smoking one cigarette after another. The phone on the table next to me rang non-stop. It was Blake, but I didn’t want to answer. Until the last cigarette burned out, the ringing continued. I picked up the phone and texted him the hotel address and room number. The world went silent. As I waited, I decided to be merciful just once. To be fair, Blake had been amazing to me. Four years of college, three years of grad school, and now three years of work. For ten years, outside of my parents, he was the person who had been the most accommodating to my temper. He had taken care of every detail, covered every angle, been everything to me. I loved him, and I relied on him. If he confessed, told me he had a change of heart, I would accept defeat. Soon, there was a knock on the hotel door. I opened it and saw Blake, completely out of breath. The sweat had soaked the hair on his forehead; he looked like he had just been pulled out of a lake. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” I lowered my eyes and let him in. I couldn’t not have a soft spot for him. He didn’t even bother taking care of himself before he started organizing the room for me, exactly as he always had. I was waiting. Waiting for him to open his mouth first. At 3:00 AM, Blake handed me a cup of warm milk and finally spoke. “Audrey, don’t overthink this.” “The reason I’m good to Chloe is that I feel bad for what she’s been through. She comes from a very poor background, she’s suffered so much…” I felt confused for a split second. I didn’t think that after all this waiting, after all this build-up, Blake would still be talking about Chloe Bennett. He even wanted me to empathize with Chloe’s suffering, to make me feel guilty for my behavior today. “Chloe’s life hasn’t been as smooth as yours. She’s very sensitive. You shouldn’t have gotten angry at her.” The milk went cold, and my patience finally ran out. “Is that what you came here to say?” Blake paused, remembered something, and his gaze shifted away. “There are some issues with the production line. The plant manager told me I need to stay for another week…” Hearing this, I only found it hilarious. The plant manager had just texted me during dinner to congratulations on Blake finishing his assignment, wishing us a safe trip back and telling us it was great to see our relationship finally entering its next chapter. I curved my lips. Fine. I’ll stay with you. Blake hadn’t expected me to stay, and he failed to give an immediate reaction. “What? Are you unhappy about that?” Blake shook his head frantically. “No, I’m happy.” I nodded. “Good. Glad to hear it.” The next morning, I personally dropped Blake off at the factory gates and watched him walk inside. Then, I told the driver to drive to the apartment I had left last night. When the door opened, Chloe was still there. As if nothing had happened yesterday, I asked casually, “Oh, you’re here, Chloe. Don’t you have to work today?” “Blake said he had some things here, and I came to help him pack them up.” As she spoke, I pulled a large suitcase out from behind me. Chloe Bennett went completely pale, staring at it blankly. But I acted as if I hadn’t noticed and continued talking: “By the way, when Blake and I get married, you absolute must come.” Chloe Bennett ran out of the apartment, looking like she had seen a ghost. I put away my fake, sugary smile, took out my phone, and opened the spyware I had installed last night. While Blake was fast asleep, I had put something on his phone. Soon, the voices of the two came over the speaker. Blake was anxiously asking what happened. The only response was Chloe’s sobbing: “Go back and marry Audrey Sterling. We’re over.” Blake was silent. Chloe’s voice was muffled. I could even imagine him pulling her into his arms, pressing her face against his chest. Finally, Blake’s voice came again. It was gravelly, with an edge of tears. “In a few years, I’ll transfer you to corporate headquarters.” “You’ll have an enviable job, a comfortable life. I’ll watch you get married, have a beautiful child, and live a happy life…” Chloe was crying uncontrollably. “I only want you!” My face had turned completely cold. I cannot accept deceit, and I certainly cannot accept being played. I vividly remembered the afternoon my father agreed to accept Blake. The crushing boulder that had been on my chest for years finally fell. I had thrown myself into Blake’s arms, crying. Three years. Just three years. That was my father’s condition for Blake, and my test. I knew three years would be hard, so I worked tirelessly to prove myself, to meet my father’s expectations, and to keep pace with Blake. To see Blake for just one extra hour, I could go three days without sleep, pushing myself to create a proposal that would satisfy my father. And listening to the recording… Blake Vance was mapping out an entire future for Chloe Bennett. Her job, her life, her relationship… they were pouring their hearts out to each other with profound devotion. If I hadn’t shown up that night, if I hadn’t known any of this… Then every future day of my life, I would have been living in this fake, disgusting “happiness.” I pulled out my phone and dialed my older brother in New York. The call was quickly answered by a cheerful voice. “Hey, little sis! Did you pick up your boyfriend?” “Mom and Dad have already arranged the welcome dinner…” The second I opened my mouth, I was horrified to find I was sobbing. “Caleb, Blake’s cheating on me.” I raised my hand and touched my face; it was covered in icy tears. My voice finally calmed down. “Make it happen. I want to ruin them both.” I have never been a patient, forgiving saint. Blake thought he could use me as a ladder. Ruin my life, gain status, and keep his mistress. Keep dreaming. After hanging up, I took a tissue and wiped away my tears. A gaping hole had been ripped in my chest, and a freezing cold wind was howling through it. Like a knife twisting, it was both cold and painful. To say I wasn’t heartbroken would be a lie. They always said Blake was devoted to me, but wasn’t I devoted to him as well? I scanned the apartment. It was vastly different from the place I had seen three years ago. During Blake’s first month here, he casually remarked that he couldn’t sleep well in the factory dorms. I had immediately bought this apartment. Worried that he would refuse it out of pride, and afraid of giving him financial pressure, I had found a reliable real estate agent to rent the apartment to him at well below market value. Over the past three years, I had only come here a handful of times during the first year. After that, I was busy, and Blake said he was busy. Every time I came to see him, we only had a quick meeting outside the factory. So I had no way of noticing his change of heart. But at this point, I didn’t want to obsess over when the rot had started. While Blake and Chloe were out in the afternoon, I had surveillance cameras installed in every room. After confirming the connection was perfect, I went back to the hotel.

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Every year on April Fools’ Day, my boyfriend teamed up with his “bro-girl” best friend to play a sick prank: he would fake a proposal to me. Last year, my heart pounded with anticipation as he slipped the ring onto my finger. But the moment it was on, a hidden spring mechanism in the trick ring snapped shut, crushing my skin. I screamed in agony. My boyfriend and his best friend, Chloe, just erupted into hysterical laughter. They didn’t care that my finger was turning purple and dangerously close to losing circulation. To apologize, my boyfriend, Liam, swore on his life that this year, the proposal would be real. So, when he frantically called me, begging me to meet him at the exact spot of our first date, I believed him. I got a blowout, had my nails done, spent two hours on my makeup, and bought a brand-new dress. I even had the engagement announcement drafted and ready to post on Instagram. But the second I walked through the door, my heart full of joy… a massive, heavy paper plate completely covered in shaving cream and frosting was smashed directly into my face. A bright, loud, feminine laugh exploded from the crowd. “I told you she’d show up! You owe me fifty bucks, Liam! You lose!” Liam stepped up and gently wiped the frosting off my face, using the same tender touch he always had. “You dressed up so pretty today, too. Shame about the outfit.” “I made a bet with the guys on whether we could actually get you to show up today. I bet you wouldn’t. If I won, I was going to propose to you tomorrow. If I lost, I’d propose next year.” “Sorry, babe. Since you showed up, I guess we aren’t getting married this year either.” I stood perfectly still, looking at him through the sticky mess on my eyelashes. “So. Do you even know what tomorrow is?” He smiled casually, brushing it off. “Of course I know. It’s our six-year anniversary. How could I forget?” The heavy, sickeningly sweet frosting clung to my skin. In that exact moment, a profound, suffocating exhaustion washed over me. It was all so pointless. Our anniversary was less important than an April Fools’ joke. Just like I was less important than his “bro-girl” best friend. I reached down and slid off the matching promise ring we had both worn for the last six years. “Then let’s break up.” The sharp clink of the silver ring hitting the hardwood floor silenced the entire VIP room. Liam frowned slightly, looking annoyed. “Stop being dramatic. It’s just a little frosting. I’ll help you wash it off when we get home. You know how Chloe is, she used to go way harder with her pranks. She actually held back for you.” “I went through a lot of trouble to get you out here. Don’t make me look like a whipped, spineless boyfriend in front of my friends.” Chloe immediately put on a pouting, victimized face. “Geez, Elena, it was just a joke. If you hate it so much, we won’t play anymore, okay? There’s no need to threaten a breakup over it.” “I told you guys she couldn’t take a joke, but you insisted on inviting her. Now look what happened.” She crossed her arms and threw herself onto the leather sofa, looking incredibly put out. Instantly, the glares from the rest of the friend group turned cold and hostile toward me. Chloe was the only girl in their tight-knit frat-bro circle. She was the undisputed princess of the group. If she was unhappy, everyone scrambled to coddle her. Liam was no exception. The very first time I met her, she organized a game of Truth or Dare. Everyone else’s dares were harmless, stupid pranks—like singing loudly in the street. But when it was my turn, she dared me to fake an orgasm in front of the entire room. I quietly said I wasn’t comfortable with that kind of inappropriate punishment. Chloe instantly burst into tears and ran out of the bar. The entire group of guys sprinted out after her. Including Liam. What was supposed to be my welcome party ended with me sitting alone at an empty table. Liam didn’t say anything about it afterward, but from that day on, he never brought me to another group hangout unless Chloe explicitly gave him permission. Liam glared at me, his brow furrowed in a stern warning. “Elena, apologize to Chloe.” If this were the past—if I was still desperately trying to fit in, still terrified of embarrassing Liam in front of his boys—I would have swallowed my pride. I would have proactively apologized and explained myself before he even had to ask. But right now, seeing that me threatening to end our six-year relationship carried less weight than Chloe looking slightly annoyed… I finally understood. From the very beginning, my place in his heart was inherently inferior to his “purely platonic” bond with his female best friend. I picked up the expensive trench coat and the designer handbag I had bought specifically to impress his parents later this week. I looked back at their judgmental, scrutinizing faces. “Liam. We’re done. I mean it. It’s over.” I turned and walked out, my brand-new heels clicking unsteadily against the floor. As the heavy door swung shut behind me, I could faintly hear Chloe’s teasing laughter from inside. “Are you really not going to chase after your little stage-five clinger?” Liam let out a cold, arrogant scoff. “She’s just throwing a tantrum to get attention. If I actually chased her, what would happen to you?” “Besides, she doesn’t have anyone else in this city to rely on but me. She’s easy to handle.” My heart, already burning and raw, was sliced wide open. His words were like freezing wind scraping against an open wound. Six years ago, Liam had stood in this exact same restaurant and confessed his love to me, swearing I was the only woman for him. Truthfully, it took a lot of effort for him to win me over. When I was fifteen, both of my parents remarried and started new families. I became the unwanted baggage that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. Because of that, I was terrified of dating. I was terrified of the idea of a family. I rejected him five times. The final time, a creep started stalking me while I was walking back to my lonely, empty apartment at night. Liam appeared out of nowhere and fought the guy off. He took a knife to the arm in the process and ended up in the ER. After the nurse finished stitching him up, his eyes suddenly turned red. “Elena, why do you have to be so fiercely independent? Can’t you just let me protect you?” In that single moment, the ice around my heart melted. I thought to myself: Maybe… maybe dating someone this reliable and gentle wouldn’t be so bad. That very night, he asked me to meet him at that restaurant and officially asked me to be his girlfriend. When I said yes, this usually sophisticated, composed guy picked me up and spun me around like a massive, goofy golden retriever. We spun until we were both dizzy and collapsed laughing onto the floor. He wrapped his strong arms around me, shielding me from the hard ground. We sat on the concrete steps outside the restaurant, and he swore to the moon that as long as he was around, I would never be lonely, and I would never be abandoned again. But tonight, the deepest, most vulnerable wounds I had ever exposed to him—wounds that had barely begun to scar over—were violently ripped open by the exact same man. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. I opened my email app on my phone and clicked on an unread message from five days ago. It was a corporate transfer offer to our company’s headquarters on the East Coast. The offer expired at midnight. I typed my reply: [I accept the transfer to the New York HQ.] It turned out those words weren’t actually that hard to type. I looked up at the moon, half-hidden behind thin, wispy clouds. Liam. I’m actually not easy to handle at all. And I don’t need you to handle me anymore. My train ticket to New York was booked for the afternoon of the 2nd. I didn’t have much time left. As soon as I got back to the apartment, I quickly washed the sticky, smelling frosting off my skin and started packing my life away. I didn’t have a lot of things. It was mostly just clothes and a few personal items. I managed to fit everything into two suitcases—one large, one small. At 3:00 AM, I booked a nearby hotel for the night. Just as I grabbed the handle of my suitcase to leave, the front door swung open. Liam stumbled in, completely exhausted from partying. He dumped a blackout-drunk Chloe onto our living room sofa, then handed me a plastic grocery bag filled with fresh pears. “Perfect timing, you’re still awake. She had way too much to drink. Go boil some pear and ginger tea for her hangover, otherwise she’s going to be throwing up all night.” I stood perfectly still, not moving a muscle. When we first moved in together years ago, he came home completely trashed from a frat reunion, throwing up constantly. My heart ached for him. I woke up at 2:00 AM to brew him a traditional hangover remedy on the stove. But the cheap clay pot I was using couldn’t handle the heat. It shattered violently. Boiling water and sharp ceramic shards exploded all over me, burning my arms and chest. When he saw what happened, the alcohol instantly left his system. He looked at my burns with absolute, agonizing guilt. From that day forward, he never let me step foot in the kitchen again. Even when he was sick with the flu and craving homemade chicken noodle soup, he would rather order overpriced delivery than let me turn on the stove. For the last few years, I hadn’t cooked a single meal. He even washed and peeled the fruit before handing it to me. To this day, there was a custom wooden sign hanging on the kitchen door that he had carved himself: [DANGER ZONE: ELENA IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN.] I let out a cynical chuckle and tossed the plastic bag of pears directly into the trash can. “Sorry. Not my job. If she wants a hangover cure, she can order it on UberEats.” With that, I grabbed the handles of my suitcases and stepped toward the door. He suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my wrist and shoving me aggressively against the heavy wooden door. “Alright, Elena, enough. It was fine when you were just venting at the restaurant, but packing your bags? I already told you, it was an April Fools’ joke. Stop throwing a tantrum.” “I know you want to get married. I want to, too. Next year. I promise we will officially tie the knot next year, okay?” The smell of stale alcohol washed over my neck as he breathed heavily. But unlike every other time in the past, his half-hearted coaxing didn’t work. I shoved him away with both hands and delivered a sharp, echoing slap directly across his cheek. “Liam, I was incredibly clear. We are broken up. I am never marrying you!” The sharp crack of the slap didn’t just stun Liam; it also managed to partially wake up the drunk girl on the couch. Chloe stumbled to her feet, swaying violently, and charged at me. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are?! Who gave you the right to hit Liam?!” “If you want to break up, then break up! There are a million better girls out there! You… you’re literally a nobody!” A burning, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. My eyes turned red with fury. I raised my hand, ready to slap her back into next week. But Liam violently grabbed my wrist mid-air, twisting it and shoving me backward. The small of my back slammed brutally into the metal doorknob. A sharp, paralyzing pain shot through my spine. He stood protectively in front of Chloe, his brow furrowed in deep annoyance. “She’s blackout drunk. Are you seriously going to pick a physical fight with a drunk person?” “Just… get out of here. Go cool off. We’ll talk about this tomorrow when you’re acting rational.” I stared at him in absolute disbelief. He looked so incredibly indifferent, as if I were just some random, unreasonable stranger causing a scene in his home. He didn’t spare me a second glance. He immediately turned his attention back to the slurring, stumbling Chloe, his voice dropping into a soft, gentle whisper to calm her down. He saved every ounce of his tenderness for her. I dug my fingernails into my palms until they nearly bled. I grabbed my suitcases and walked out the door. I checked into the nearest Marriott. I didn’t manage to close my eyes until the sun started to rise. When I woke up, my phone was exploding with notifications. Aside from the generic mass texts about April Fools’ pranks, most of the messages were from coworkers and friends asking why I hadn’t shown up to work, and fishing for gossip about whether Liam had finally popped the question. My heart gave a dull, painful throb. I sent a mass reply saying simply, [We broke up,] feeling a deep, suffocating exhaustion settling into my bones. The ping-ping-ping of incoming texts continued. Some people thought it was a belated April Fools’ joke. Some said it was impossible. Some even told me to stop acting like a spoiled brat just because I was disappointed about the proposal. After all, in their eyes, Liam was the perfect man. Gentle, reliable, and incredibly successful. He was the ultimate safety net. A rare, high-value catch. But they didn’t know the reality of this “perfect man.” For our four-year anniversary, he set up a ridiculously romantic, elaborate proposal fake-out, specifically to lower my guard so his “bro-girl” could drop a realistic, terrifying rubber snake on my lap. For our five-year anniversary, he used a novelty trick ring Chloe had bought online to “propose.” I spent that night in the ER with the fire department using heavy machinery to cut the metal off my finger before it went necrotic. Yes, he had the ability to be an incredible safety net. But I wasn’t the person he was catching. In the past, I had automatically, delusionally blocked out all these massive red flags. I kept gaslighting myself, repeating: Aside from Chloe, he treats me like a queen. But once the fog finally cleared, I realized that a relationship like this—even if it ended in a proposal—was a dead end. I let out a bitter laugh and absentmindedly opened Instagram. Amidst the sea of predictable April Fools’ posts, the most prominent update was a massive photo dump from Chloe. Liam had taken her to a luxury movie theater, won her a massive teddy bear at the arcade, and played laser tag with her. Even though he technically always prioritized Chloe’s April Fools’ prank before celebrating our actual anniversary the next day… He had never, ever taken me to do any of those things. He always told me that arcades and laser tag were immature wastes of time for teenagers. He insisted that taking a pottery class or watching an indie documentary at home was much more “meaningful.” I had genuinely believed that was just his mature, sophisticated personality showing through. So, I actively suppressed all my youthful, silly desires from my first real relationship to match his energy. But now, looking at the photos of him laughing so brightly, so carefree, surrounded by neon arcade lights… I finally realized that those activities weren’t boring. He just found them boring when he was doing them with me. The comment section under Chloe’s post was an endless stream of people saying how cute they looked together. All of our mutual friends had liked the post. It had more likes than the post we made when we officially announced we were dating. Just as I was about to force-close the app, a text message popped up at the top of my screen. It was from Liam. [Don’t overthink the photos. I just took her out to burn off the hangover. If you have time, come back to the apartment. She said she wants to apologize to you.] I frowned deeply, my thumbs flying across the keyboard to type: [Don’t bother.] But suddenly, a delivery notification popped up from Amazon. The anniversary gift I had ordered for him weeks ago had just been signed for. I had used the apartment as the shipping address. I thought about it for a second. It was best to get total closure. I also needed to drop my set of keys on the counter. A clean, definitive break. I threw on some basic clothes and caught an Uber back to the apartment building. But the exact second I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, a massive splash of freezing, chemically-smelling liquid hit me directly in the face. A violent, burning sensation instantly erupted across my cheeks. “SURPRISE! HAPPY LATE APRIL FOOLS’!” Before I could even wipe my eyes, Chloe charged at me. She was holding a rough microfiber makeup remover cloth, aggressively scrubbing and dragging it across my face. The burning sensation intensified exponentially, accompanied by a terrifying, agonizing itch that felt like thousands of tiny insects chewing into my skin. It felt like my face was being physically peeled off. I violently shoved her away. I instinctively reached up to scratch my face, but the second my fingers made contact, a blinding, piercing pain shot through my nerves. “Cough… cough… my face… what is that?!” Liam sprinted out of the kitchen, grabbing my wrists forcefully to stop me from scratching. His voice was laced with genuine panic and fury. “Chloe! You said it was just micellar water! Why is her face breaking out in hives?!” Chloe’s face flushed a deep, guilty red. “I… I don’t know! I just grabbed a random bottle from the bathroom! Besides, she’s always wearing that pathetic, innocent ‘no-makeup makeup’ look trying to compete with me! I hate it! And you told me yourself you didn’t like how it looked, which is why you agreed to let me prank her!” My entire body was trembling uncontrollably. My limbs were going numb, and my airway was beginning to tighten. “And you really thought… she actually wanted to apologize to me?! Liam… you are a psychopathic monster. You don’t even deserve the phrase ‘clean break’!” Gasping for air, I tried to stumble toward the bathroom to wash my face. But after taking a single step, the world violently spun, and everything went black. “ELENA! ELENA, WAKE UP!” When I finally regained consciousness, the sun had already set. The burning, throbbing pain on my cheeks was still incredibly intense. While I was fading in and out in the ER, I vaguely remembered the doctors telling me I had suffered severe chemical burns and required several stitches on my chin and right cheek where the skin had split from the aggressive scrubbing. My shifting on the hospital bed woke Liam, who had been dozing in the chair next to me. “Elena, thank God you’re awake. You terrified me. The doctor said you had a severe anaphylactic shock reaction to an industrial-strength disinfectant.” “She genuinely wanted to apologize to you today. But you know how stubborn and defensive she is. Her actions were definitely out of line, but she honestly didn’t mean to hurt you this badly. Please don’t be too angry with her, okay?” His voice was frantic, tumbling over itself. But in all his desperate words, there wasn’t a single shred of concern about whether I would be permanently scarred, or whether I was in excruciating pain or feeling insecure about my ruined face. All of his energy was focused entirely on exonerating her. I looked at him. I looked at the face of the man I had loved so deeply for six years, and suddenly, he looked like a complete, terrifying stranger. Tears silently spilled over my lashes and slid down my bandaged cheeks. “I’m not angry. I just feel an overwhelming sense of regret. I never, ever should have dated you.” His body stiffened. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, his phone screen lit up on the nightstand. Liam glanced at the caller ID—[The Tyrant]—and instantly swallowed whatever he was going to say. “I need to step out for a second. Get some rest. I’ll be right back.” He practically sprinted out the door. Driven by some dark, masochistic curiosity, I quietly slipped out of bed and followed him. Through the narrow crack of the heavy fire-escape door at the end of the hall. He was sitting on the concrete stairs right next to Chloe. “It’s okay, don’t beat yourself up over it. She’s not going to stay mad. She always forgives us eventually. She always has.” Chloe lightly punched him in the shoulder. “If she can’t even handle this, imagine how nuclear she would go if she found out the only reason you asked her out was because you lost a bet with the guys! And that the only reason you chose April Fools’ Day to propose was because we picked it out as a joke!” In that singular moment, it felt like a flashbang had detonated inside my skull. A deafening, high-pitched ringing drowned out every other sound in the universe. Liam frantically clamped his hand over her mouth, looking around the stairwell in a panic. “SHH! Keep your voice down! That was six years ago! Take that secret to your grave!” My legs completely gave out. It felt as though every single bone in my body had been violently magically extracted. I couldn’t even stand up. The questions that had been haunting me like ghosts for years finally had their answers. Why, when forced to choose, I always lost to Chloe. Why Liam, who claimed to love me so deeply, always enabled and permitted her to abuse me. I had delusionally believed he was just overly loyal to his “found family” of frat brothers. I never, ever imagined that every single thing he had ever given me was a fabricated, toxic lie. Even the moment I thought was the beginning of my salvation… was built entirely on a humiliating, cruel joke. In their eyes, I was never Liam’s beloved girlfriend. I was just a pathetic, entertaining clown they kept around for laughs. In this moment, the last remaining shred of my dignity was completely, utterly annihilated. I pressed both hands forcefully over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I had to leave. I had to escape this suffocating, artificial nightmare. I called an Uber, grabbed my suitcases from the hotel I had booked the night before, and went straight to Penn Station. I paid an exorbitant fee to change my ticket to the very next Amtrak train heading to the East Coast HQ. Just before I boarded the train, a text from Liam popped up on my phone. [The doctor said you need to be kept under observation. Don’t wander off. Where are you? I’m coming to find you.] Looking at his fake, hypocritical concern, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. I didn’t reply. I permanently blocked his number, and the numbers of every single one of his friends. Liam. I am officially resigning from your sick little April Fools’ game.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “400792”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Right before the Christmas holidays, I texted Julian: [What day are you coming to my parents’ house?] Julian took a full four days to reply. [1] Unable to suppress my fury, I took a screenshot of the chat and posted it on Reddit, asking the internet to judge: Is this a boyfriend, or a broken chatbot? The replies were brutal: “Definitely a boyfriend. ChatGPT isn’t this stupid; even AI knows how to ask how your day was.” “That’s harsh, but true.” “Why are you even with this guy? Are you keeping him around just so you don’t have to be single for the holidays?” “Don’t bother telling her, OP is obviously obsessed. She didn’t dump him immediately, she’s posting on Reddit asking for advice. She’s still holding out hope for this robot.” I let out a bitter laugh. The comments weren’t wrong. I was actually still waiting for Julian to send a real reply. [You said you were terrified of marriage, and I waited for you for seven years. This year, you finally said you were ready to meet my parents. What is this silent treatment supposed to mean?] [Are you coming or not? Give me a straight answer!] While waiting for him to reply, I was scrolling through TikTok and stumbled across a viral video. The caption read: [My boss agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend for the holidays to get my parents off my back. Which outfit should he wear?] The video was a slideshow of eight photos. In every single one, the man’s outfit was perfectly color-coordinated to match the girl’s outfit. It was obvious the guy had put a lot of thought into it. The comments were flooded with people shipping them: [OMG, my favorite CEO x Assistant trope is finally hitting the ‘meet the parents’ arc?!] When I swiped to the sixth photo, I froze. The custom cufflinks on the man’s tailored suit… were the exact ones I had custom-designed specifically for Julian. At that exact moment, a notification popped up from Julian. It was another cold, single-character reply: [1]. I stared at that “1” for a long time. It felt utterly ridiculous. Just as ridiculous as I had been for the past seven years, constantly dropping hints that I wanted to get married. I closed his chat thread and opened my blocked contacts list. I unblocked a contact saved as: “Crazy European Stalker.” [Come to my parents’ house on December 27th. Meet the family.] [We’re getting married after the holidays.] He replied instantly: [YES! Booking my flight right now!] Julian, you don’t need to come anymore. You never have to come again. I opened Julian’s chat thread again. That glaring “1” was still the most recent message. What was the point of this? It took me seven years just to force him to agree to meet my parents for the holidays. Was I supposed to spend the next seven years forcing him to marry me? And another seven forcing him to have kids? “Let’s break up,” I typed definitively, and hit send. I put my phone down and started packing. We started dating freshman year of college. We’d been together for ten years, living together for eight. We had accumulated a mountain of stuff. But once I made the absolute decision to leave, packing went faster than any time I had moved before. Throw away the trash. Donate the rest. Soon, the three-bedroom apartment that used to be crammed with our lives felt hollow and empty. I efficiently booked a moving company and had my boxes hauled to a small, one-bedroom condo I had bought a few years ago as an investment property. With that, the physical ties to this relationship were severed. Right before I walked out the door, I took one last look around the apartment we had lived in the longest—the place we had originally planned to renovate into our marital home. A sudden, sharp wave of sorrow washed over my chest. Ten years. Just like that, it was over, ending with barely a whisper. After finishing the move, I rolled my suitcase into the airport terminal. Right then, my phone chimed with a notification tone I had assigned specifically to Julian. Despite everything, a spark of hope uncontrollably flared up, and my thumb tapped the notification faster than my brain could process it. [1] “Ha.” I let out a sharp, neurotic laugh, then immediately permanently blocked his number. The soft, acoustic music playing in the airport coffee shop filtered through the air. I thought about the last ten years. We had sweet moments, and we had brutal fights. Ending things now was probably the only way to honor how serious we used to be about each other. I couldn’t wait until Julian’s little assistant showed up at my door to finally wake up. That would be way too pathetic. While lost in thought, I was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. A new post popped up on my feed. I tapped it out of habit. It was from Chloe, Julian’s young executive assistant. [AHHHHH! My boss agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend to help me deal with my parents pressuring me to get married! I am the luckiest girl in the world!] [You guys don’t even know, Mr. Vance spent forever picking out outfits just so he could come home with me for the holidays~ Who says guys hate shopping? I am so exhausted!] Attached was a carousel of nine photos showcasing Julian in different outfits. They were casual, yet still radiated that subtle, expensive aura. Hoodies, distressed denim, crisp white sneakers. It was a complete 180 from his usual, overly formal style. Just as I pressed the buttons to take a screenshot, the post vanished. She had deleted it. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, remembering when I first met Julian in college. As the Student Body President, he was already strictly adhering to a wardrobe of button-downs and slacks. I used to beg him to wear matching couple’s outfits with me, but he always refused. “My position in student government doesn’t allow me to wear that kind of flashy, childish clothing. Stop being unreasonable.” Since when were hoodies and jeans considered flashy and childish? I stared at the screenshots of Julian dressed like a frat boy, sharp pangs of pain radiating through my chest. Even though I had already broken up with him, my emotions were still being dragged around by him. The airport PA system announced my flight. I stood up and joined the boarding line. I had been taking this flight home for the holidays alone for ten years. I had been asking him to come home to meet my parents for five years. But Chloe? She had only been interning under Julian for six months. It doesn’t matter anymore, Julian. From now on, you’ll never have to rack your brain trying to invent excuses to reject me again. The plane was incredibly quiet, especially since it was a red-eye flight. Surrounded by hundreds of people, I was suddenly drowning in an overwhelming sense of isolation. I opened up the TikTok account I had accidentally discovered belonging to Chloe. Sure enough, she had posted a new storytime video titled: “When the one who loves you doesn’t need to be asked, he just knows.” “The second my boss heard my parents had set me up on a blind date for the holidays, he panicked! I hadn’t even brought up the idea of finding a fake boyfriend yet, and he volunteered to come home with me to deal with my parents!” “Omg guys, I think I’ve turned into one of those girls who gets a crush on their strict camp counselor, or falls in love with their manager. I’m so obsessed.” “But my boss treats me so incredibly well… What am I supposed to do if I’m catching real feelings?” The comments were a unified wall of encouragement and shipping. “Girl, your boss is built like a model and has the face of a CEO. He’s young, successful, and making the first move. How could you not catch feelings?!” “Verdict: OP is an oblivious, innocent sweetheart. Your boss is practically throwing himself at you, you just need to open your eyes!” “Agreed! I’ve been following OP for six months, checking every day wondering when she’s finally going to get it… When are you going to change your handle from ‘Intern Chloe Grinding Daily’ to ‘Sweet Daily Life with my CEO Hubby’?” “OP, confess your feelings right now! You guys are obviously just one step away from making it official!” … We had been together for ten years. How could I not have noticed Julian drifting away? I was just… so tired. Julian was strongly opposed to marriage. I found this out the year we graduated college. I thought about it for a week, and ultimately decided to break up with him. “I’m an only child. If I don’t get married, my parents, my grandparents—my entire family—would be absolutely devastated.” Julian’s face had gone ghostly white. “Do you really not care about me at all?” “What good does caring do?!” I had been furious—angry that he had hidden his stance against marriage. “I can’t just be your girlfriend for the rest of my life!” Julian scrambled for excuses. “Your life belongs to you. You shouldn’t have to carry the burden of your parents’ or your family’s expectations.” I held up a hand to stop him. “Who said this was just their expectation? We used to talk about having one kid and giving them all our love.” “This is what I want. I want a family. I love kids.” I glared at him coldly. “So, all those times you agreed with me, were you just talking out of your ass?” Julian had nothing to say. After that argument, we unofficially broke up. But a month later, he showed up at my corporate housing. Looking gaunt and pale, he held out a bouquet of flowers. “Anna, I don’t want to lose you.” He spoke with intense gravity. “Can you just give me some time? At least right now, I am absolutely not ready to step into a marriage.” My heart softened. He was, after all, my first love. “I never said we had to get married right this second.” “Are you sure about this?” I asked him. “Don’t change your views on marriage or your life plans just for someone else.” Julian’s deep, expressive eyes welled up. “Compared to getting married, I’m much more terrified of losing you.” He paused. “Anna, wait for me.” “I will get over this fear.” And so I waited. For seven years. I didn’t want to wait anymore. After walking out of the airport and grabbing my suitcase, I was about to call an Uber. To my surprise, the second I stepped out of the sliding doors, I got a call from my dad. “Sweetie, did you land?” “I’m parked by the bus stop near Exit 1. Walk toward this side when you get out.” “Okay, got it.” I was a little shocked. Aside from my first two years of college, my dad had never come to pick me up from the airport. “I just walked out, I’m heading your way.” I rolled my suitcase down the sidewalk and spotted my parents leaning against their SUV from a mile away, scanning the crowd. When they saw me, they rushed over. My dad grabbed my bag to put it in the trunk, while my mom kept stretching her neck, looking behind me. Seeing how eager they were, I was suddenly very glad I had called in a ringer. “Dad, Mom—” I opened the back door. “My boyfriend isn’t coming until the 27th. Stop looking.” “Oh, right, right, right—” My mom slapped her thigh. “Today’s only Christmas Eve. We gotta let the boy spend Christmas with his own family first.” My dad slapped the steering wheel. “That Julian kid is thirty now. Glad he finally realized he needs to step up.” I pursed my lips, cutting off their excited chatter about their future son-in-law Julian. “I broke up with Julian.” “I’m dating someone new. His name is Arthur.” “Make sure you get the name right.” My dad, completely ignoring the fact that he was currently driving, whipped his head around to stare at me. “But when you called last week, you said Julian was away on a business trip—” “Watch the road!” My mom expertly shoved his head back toward the windshield. “It’s not you getting a new boyfriend, why are you panicking? Our daughter said he’s coming on the 27th, so we’ll meet him on the 27th! You’re driving like a maniac, people are going to think you’ve been chugging eggnog…” I laid back against the rear seats, silently listening to my mom scold my dad. She was right. Just last week on the phone, I had told them Julian was coming home with me this year. It was a massive sudden change for them. I expected them to interrogate me, but they just bickered with each other and completely skipped over the topic. Tears blurred my vision, because I felt overwhelmingly, unconditionally loved. I dozed off in the car. When we pulled into the driveway, I was swarmed by relatives before I even stepped out of the vehicle. My grandmother on my dad’s side had five kids; my grandmother on my mom’s side had six. Both of my parents were the youngest, most spoiled children in their respective massive families. Consequently, my marital status had always been a high-priority issue for both sides of the family tree. My oldest cousin was bouncing his new grandson. “This year, I specifically brought the baby over so you and your man could get some good luck! Once you’re married, hurry up and have a kid so my aunt can finally relax.” “We will, we will. Very soon.” My two older female cousins stuck their heads into the car, looking around. “This new boyfriend of yours doesn’t seem to know the rules. How can he drag his feet like this?” They clicked their tongues in disapproval. “If he had any sense, he would have shown up today with gifts in hand. You’re treating him like a prince.” “Yeah, seriously. He’s really lacking etiquette.” My aunts and uncles crowded closer. “Where’s the new boyfriend? He didn’t come today?” “Not today. He’s coming on the 27th.” … My youngest aunt finally pulled me out of the mob. “Give the guy a break! Christmas Day and Boxing Day are for his own family! Anna already said he’s coming on the 27th. Why are you guys so impatient? Let the poor girl rest first.” Even in the freezing winter air, I was sweating from the interrogation. Crap. This Arthur guy, this European aristocrat… does he have any idea how to handle the sheer force of an American extended family? The 25th and 26th were a blur of visiting relatives’ houses. When I finally collapsed onto my bed to rest, my phone rang with an unknown number. I answered, exhausted. “Hello?” “It’s me.” It was Julian. Before I could even process it, his aggrieved voice came through the speaker. “You blocked me.” “Yeah,” I replied calmly. “We broke up. Am I supposed to keep you unblocked so I can like your Instagram posts?” “I admit I was wrong! But Anna, can you please just give me a little more time… I’m still not ready.” “You’ve done a lot of wrong things. Which one are you talking about?” I asked coldly. “You promised me you would come home with me for the holidays. If you couldn’t do it, why did you agree? And even if you changed your mind at the last minute, why didn’t you just communicate that to me?” “Ever since you agreed to come home, you either left my messages on read or ignored them completely. Go search our chat history and see how many times you just replied with ‘1’ this past year.” “You said you were terrified of marriage, that you didn’t want to meet my parents. I gave you time to prepare. Seven years! A full seven years.” I took a breath. “I was understanding and respectful of your boundaries. And you turned around and went to your assistant’s hometown with her for the holidays.” There was a loud crash over the phone, followed by Julian’s sharp intake of breath. “Ah!” “How did you know… no, wait, let me explain!” “I just came here to help Chloe avoid her parents trying to force her into an arranged marriage. She’s only 21, she shouldn’t have to…” I was sick of hearing it. I cut him off sharply. “I don’t want to hear it!” “We are already broken up. I do not want to hear your excuses!” Julian was both anxious and angry. “I admit that breaking my promise to you was my fault, but can you at least give me a chance to explain? We agreed that if we had issues, we’d talk them out. We never went to bed angry.” He was still avoiding the subject of Chloe entirely. I didn’t want to waste my precious downtime on him anymore. “There’s nothing left to explain. Julian, you deceived me about your stance on marriage, you broke your promises, you deflected blame, and you took absolutely zero accountability.” “I am unilaterally informing you: we are broken up. That’s it.” I finished speaking, immediately hung up, and blocked the number. When it came to Julian, I knew in my soul that I owed him absolutely nothing. My parents were childhood sweethearts who married for love. Their relationship was beautiful and full of mutual grace. I always believed that in a relationship, you need respect, grace, and mutual understanding. I gave Julian seven years. That was more than enough. I shifted to get comfortable and go back to sleep. A notification popped up on WhatsApp. It was Chloe, complaining that I was being too heartless. [Ms. Anna, you’ve completely misunderstood Mr. Vance.] [He really only came back with me to help me out. My parents are super traditional and are trying to force me to get married before I even graduate college.] [You’re a woman too, you should be able to understand what I’m going through.] [Mr. Vance bought a red-eye plane ticket just so he could explain things to you in person. He hasn’t slept properly in days, and he has to fly out again tonight.] [Ms. Anna, you’re his girlfriend. Don’t you feel bad for him at all?] [I am so grateful to Mr. Vance. He’s taught me so much, and I genuinely want you two to be happy together.] I forwarded her the link to her own TikTok video and added a single question: [Do Intern Chloe’s followers know she’s knowingly sleeping with her boss while he has a girlfriend of ten years?] Chloe went completely silent. She just frantically started deleting her TikTok videos. I put my phone down, deeply satisfied, and slept a dreamless sleep. The next day, I didn’t drag myself out of bed until right before lunch. Just as I opened my bedroom door, I heard a massive commotion coming from the living room. Curious, I washed my face and headed downstairs. Halfway down, I saw my entire extended family crowded around a tall, blonde man in a trench coat, treating him like royalty. “… Arthur?” I blurted his name out in shock. Across the room, the man flamboyantly swept his long hair back, turned around, and walked toward me. My relatives parted like the Red Sea, creating a clear path for him. Arthur stopped in front of me. Standing three steps up, I was a head taller than him. He bowed deeply in an exaggerated, aristocratic greeting. “At your service.” “My leading lady has finally awakened.” He took off his sunglasses, his trench coat flaring out dramatically. “Five years have passed, My Miss Ophelia.” “AHHHHH! He is so handsome! Is he like, a prince from another country?!” “Blonde hair! Six-foot-four! A Maybach! Auntie Anna really scored!” My nieces and nephews were clutching their chests and screaming. My cousin’s husband scratched his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. This guy is ridiculously good-looking.” My youngest aunt smiled maternally. “He’s very handsome. He’s definitely worthy of our Anna.” My dad grabbed Arthur’s arm. “Come on, let’s finish our game of chess. For a foreigner, you’re pretty damn good at this!” My mom rushed up the stairs and practically dragged me back into my room. “Good lord! Why did you come out here in your pajamas?! Hurry up, put on some makeup and change your clothes!” She started tearing through my closet. “You wear a trench coat too!” “You’re both tall, you both have great skin. The kids you have are going to be gorgeous! Hey, what do they call kids from different races? Mixed-race, right? Will they be American or European?” “This new boyfriend of yours has purple eyes! That’s so exotic! If it weren’t for him, I would have thought the world only had brown and blue eyes. If your kids inherit his eyes, that would be amazing. What’s the saying? ‘Rare things are precious’!” She was clearly lost in her own fantasy world. I didn’t interrupt her. My parents had deflected the family’s pressure to get married for five or six years, and they had never once pressured me themselves. I threw on a trench coat, pulled on some knee-high boots, and did some light makeup. My mom finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Take him around and introduce him to everyone. Don’t go wandering off, lunch is almost ready.” I agreed to everything and followed her downstairs. Arthur was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, good-naturedly chatting with the younger generation of my family. He really didn’t look like the psychotic maniac who, after being rejected, had tried to hold me hostage. Hearing us, he turned and held out a hand to help me down the last step. “Anna, I waited for you for a very long time.” I swatted his hand away. “Drop the theatrical act.” He didn’t get mad. He just smiled happily and squeezed in right next to me. “Your relatives are fascinating. They all really like me.” I grabbed his hand. “That’s because you’re my boyfriend.” “Follow me. I’m going to introduce you to everyone. Just repeat whatever I call them.” “It’s fine if you don’t remember their names. Just make a good impression.” Arthur looked down at our joined hands, absolutely thrilled, and agreed repeatedly. “Darling, whatever you say.” I shot him a sideways glance. What a two-faced chameleon. In reality, my nieces weren’t completely wrong. Arthur actually was a prince. More accurately, he was now a Duke. The first time I met him was during a road trip to a historic town. He was hitchhiking on the side of the road, looking like a total mess, and I pulled over. The second time was at a corporate trade negotiation. I was just a junior associate shadowing my manager to learn the ropes, and he was the lead executive for the opposing European conglomerate. Back then, I thought he was a stern, unsmiling, strictly-business type of guy. The third time, I was the lead negotiator. Due to business requirements, we started interacting a lot more. Then, we exchanged social media handles and became friends. And then… he suddenly confessed his love for me. When I rejected him, he actually had me kidnapped and taken to some undisclosed mansion. I had been furious. “This is how you show you like someone?! By violating my consent and holding me against my will?!” “We just need to spend more time together. You’ll fall in love with me eventually,” he stared at me, dangerously stubborn. “Also, I would never physically harm you.” I was rendered speechless by his bizarre, archaic views on romance. “I don’t care where you learned how to treat women, but let me make one thing crystal clear, Arthur.” “Any real relationship has to be built on free will. Affection that isn’t freely given is just submission.” “That kind of connection will evaporate the second it’s tested. Do you really want that kind of fake love?” Honestly, I hadn’t held out much hope that reasoning with him would work. After all, psychopaths aren’t exactly known for logic. To my absolute shock, after listening to me, he looked thoughtful for a moment… and then just let me go. After unlocking the ankle monitor he had put on me, he even hosted a lavish dinner for me. Before putting me in a car to send me home, he announced that he was going to pursue me properly. He pursued me relentlessly and flamboyantly for an entire year. I eventually blocked him on every single platform. Later, he told me he had to return to Europe to attend the Queen’s funeral and, coincidentally, inherit a title. That was when I found out he was literal aristocracy. On the day he left, he said, “Ophelia, you have no idea how much of a miracle your presence in my life has been.” “I beg of you, if you ever decide to get married… please consider me.” I had to admit, while his methods were deeply unhinged, he definitely made a lasting impression. Which was why, when I needed someone to swoop in and play the role of the fiancé, he was the very first person who came to mind. I led him from the living room to the kitchen, from the garden to my dad’s study. By the end of the tour, the pockets of his trench coat were stuffed with red envelopes filled with cash—traditional Chinese holiday gifts from my relatives. Halfway through the tour, when his pockets were literally overflowing, I had to find a gift bag for him to carry the rest of the envelopes. Once the tour was over and we were back in my room, Arthur started opening the red envelopes, looking absolutely ecstatic. “I love Chinese traditions. Especially the red envelopes.” I casually replied, “Well, when you get married, you’ll have to give out a lot of red envelopes yourself.” Arthur looked up at me, suddenly deadly serious. “So, when are we getting married?” I froze. “Uh,” I shifted uncomfortably under his expectant gaze. Usually, I was the one asking that question. “Whenever it’s convenient for you, I guess…” He stopped counting the cash, stood up, and pressed me. “I read that traditional Chinese weddings require a matchmaker and formal betrothal gifts! Tell me exactly what I need to do, Ophelia. I want to marry you as soon as possible.” I laughed. “It’s not that traditional anymore!” “Ophelia, marriage is incredibly sacred. I need you to take this seriously!” Being stared down by those deep purple eyes was making me a little nervous. “Okay, I…” “Anna! Arthur! Come downstairs, it’s time to eat!” My mom’s shout from downstairs interrupted us. We exchanged a look. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Food first, everything else later.” I grabbed his hand and ran downstairs. At the dinner table, Arthur ate while seriously and politely answering all my relatives’ questions. He was handling the interrogation perfectly. Suddenly, he turned to my mom. “Mrs. Evans.” “What exactly do I need to do to marry in America?” “Anna is bullying me. She won’t tell me.” “Mrs. Evans, I want to marry Anna very badly. I am willing to… become a stay-at-home husband. Please, let me be a stay-at-home husband.” The entire table went dead silent. My mom stared at Arthur, her jaw hanging open. “Huh? Oh… wow, I… uh…” She shot me a frantic look. I actually managed to translate it instantly: [What does this mean?! You don’t want to marry him?! This kid is offering to be a stay-at-home husband! Opportunities like this don’t just fall out of the sky! What are you thinking?! Give me an answer!] I sighed helplessly. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my uncle strolled into the dining room, hands behind his back. “Oh! You guys are eating.” He pointed out the front door. “There’s a young guy out there claiming to be Anna’s boyfriend. I brought him inside.” “Anna,” he coughed awkwardly. “I know you’re a beautiful girl, but we have to have some morals here. You can’t be dating two guys at the same time! You’re treating these boys like fish in a pond!” Holy crap. Did Julian actually show up?! I shot up from my chair and practically sprinted toward the front door. Arthur immediately abandoned his food and followed right behind me. It really was him. The second I saw Julian, I wanted to grab a shovel and bury him in the septic tank! “What are you doing here?” I hissed, keeping my voice low. Arthur shadowed me closely, standing right at my shoulder. Julian didn’t answer me. He glared at Arthur and demanded, “Who is he?” Arthur grabbed my hand, standing silently and protectively behind me. The residual anger I had been harboring instantly vanished—I hadn’t even cheated on him, and I certainly hadn’t done anything to feel guilty about. What was I afraid of?! “He’s my boyfriend,” I stated calmly. “He’s here to meet my parents.” “Julian, all the promises you made? Someone else is here to fulfill them. You should be thanking him.” Arthur proudly puffed out his chest. Julian’s face twisted in agony. “What about me?” “Didn’t we break up?” “I already explained! Chloe was being forced into an arranged marriage—” “You don’t need to explain anything to me. The breakup is a done deal.” I was so sick of his cyclical, pathetic excuses. “If you had an issue with the breakup, you should have said something the day it happened. Not five days later.” I stared him down. “Do you remember what you replied?” Julian’s lips trembled, but he couldn’t speak. I answered for him. “1.” “You replied with a ‘1’.” “That means ‘Understood. Agreed,’” my niece, who was eavesdropping, helpfully explained to the older relatives standing nearby. My face instantly burned bright red. I turned around and realized that the wall next to the front gate was lined with the heads of my neighbors, all straining to listen in on the drama.

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