I donated a kidney to save my mother-in-law. The day I left the hospital, my wife Eleanor threw a lavish welcome banquet. Three drinks in, her smirking assistant Chad “joked”: “Peter, with one kidney, can you even perform in bed? Half a eunuch now?” Laughter exploded. My dignity shattered. I demanded an apology. Eleanor scoffed: “Can’t take a joke? Then get out!” She had security drag me out as guests watched. Her mocking voice followed: “Who’d want a cripple like him? He’ll beg me back in three days!” After eight years of apologies, this time I went straight to my lawyer’s office. My friend, Michael, adjusted his glasses, his eyes wide with disbelief after hearing I wanted a divorce. “You’re not joking, are you? You were head over heels for Eleanor Vance, you threw away a multi-billion-dollar family empire, and willingly became a stay-at-home husband for eight years!” “No joke, Michael. Draft the agreement. I’ll walk away with nothing. As for the company I set up for her, I have other ways of getting it back.” He knew about my surgery and looked at me with open sympathy. “It’s good that you’ve finally come to your senses. I’ve always said Eleanor wasn’t worthy of you. Leave the agreement to me; I’ll send it to you once it’s done.” Stepping out of the law office, I called my family. I told them I’d pack my things and be home in a couple of days. I also offered a sincere apology for my impulsive marriage to Eleanor and the resulting estrangement from them all those years ago. My parents sensed something was wrong with my mood. Fearing I was upset, they just offered a few words of caution and hung up. On the way back, I couldn’t find a taxi, so I walked for an hour. By the time I reached our apartment building, my strength was utterly depleted. The moment I opened the door, I swayed, but then an ashtray came flying towards me. It struck my head squarely, and blood instantly poured down my face. Eleanor didn’t even glance at me, her voice cutting and cold. “You’re finally back? Why didn’t you just die out there? Do you know how much you embarrassed me tonight?” “Chad was just making a joke, Peter. Why do you have to get so angry?” Her tone was accusatory. “He’s just a young graduate, what sense of proportion could he have? You’re old enough to be his uncle, why are you arguing with him?” But she conveniently forgot: that “joke” was about the kidney I’d given to save her mother’s life. It was she who had knelt before me all night, begging me to undergo the transplant. Now that the surgery was over, it had become her weapon, her constant source of mockery. Eight years of marriage, and I had never once had dignity in her presence. Before, I could delude myself, but tonight, reality slapped me hard. Looking back, ever since she hired Chad as her assistant, her attitude towards me had grown increasingly cold. Every time I messaged her, asking what she wanted to eat, or what time she’d be off work, she’d brush me off with excuses about meetings or social obligations. Eventually, she didn’t even bother to reply. If it weren’t for Chad’s social media posts, visible only to me, I would still be completely in the dark. I had confronted her, argued with her, poured all my effort into salvaging this pathetic marriage. This transplant surgery was my final, bitter lesson. Things that cannot be forced, I no longer wanted them. Seeing my silence, she assumed I was, as usual, just sulking, her long-suffering punching bag. Her voice dripped with imperious command. “What are you standing there for? Didn’t you see I was drinking tonight? Go make me some hangover soup.” I ignored her, changed my shoes, and walked straight into the bedroom. Blood dripped from my forehead, staining the floor. But as I opened the bedroom door, Chad walked out, wearing my pajamas. “Peter? Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you tonight, but I’ve been temporarily staying at your place while you were in the hospital this month. I’ll move out as soon as I find a new apartment. You don’t mind, do you?” I clutched the wound on my forehead, feeling utterly wretched, and looked at Eleanor. A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure, her voice righteous. “Chad’s family isn’t local. His lease expired, and his landlord wouldn’t renew it, so he couldn’t find a place right away. I offered to let him stay for a couple of days. I didn’t tell you while you were in the hospital because I was afraid it would upset you and hinder your recovery.” She hadn’t even visited me once when I was undergoing compatibility tests and surgery. Yet, she showed such concern for this ‘subordinate’ of hers. My heart was filled with nothing but disappointment for this relationship. I didn’t want to say another word to her. I simply walked past Chad and into the room, not noticing the flash of surprise in Eleanor’s eyes behind me. I had thought, with Chad at home, Eleanor wouldn’t bother me, allowing me to pack my things in peace. But half an hour later, she kicked open my bedroom door. My hands, mid-fold over a shirt, froze. Before I could even lift my head, a stinging slap landed across my face, accompanied by her furious roar. “What have you done? I thought after tonight, you’d learn your lesson, but you’ve only gotten worse!” Her voice vibrated with rage. “What do you mean by posting those things online? Are you trying to ruin me, or ruin the company?” “Don’t you know these past two days are crucial for our new project? Do you have any idea how much effort I’ve poured into this?” With a final, angry flourish, she hurled her phone onto the bed. The screen displayed a blazing online post exposing the inappropriate relationship between the CEO of Vance Group and her male assistant. The accompanying photos, without exception, were all taken at tonight’s dinner party. Just an hour after being published, the post had already soared to the top of trending topics across the entire network. The comment section was a torrent of condemnation, with almost every netizen speaking up for me, the wronged husband, tearing Chad apart with their words. Despite the concealed methods, I recognized immediately that the post’s viral spread was artificially manipulated. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was behind it. Eight years of shared life, and Eleanor hadn’t even given me a chance to explain before condemning me. Watching her face contort with malice, I couldn’t help but let out a cold, bitter laugh. “The photos were secretly taken, from across the table at tonight’s dinner. By then, you had already thrown me out. What makes you so sure I did this?” Her expression froze for a moment. Chad, who had rushed in at the sound of her voice, immediately interjected, his voice high-pitched and urgent. “Peter, I’m so sorry. I never thought a casual joke would make you so angry. It’s all my fault. Please, don’t argue because of me!” He added, a calculated plea in his tone, “I’ll hand in my resignation first thing tomorrow morning! I’ll never appear before you again!” Eleanor’s momentarily wavering conviction immediately solidified. “Don’t play innocent here, Peter. You funded the company, and you personally hired the veteran employees. Of course, they listen to you.” Her voice rose, dripping with venom. “I thought you agreeing to save my mother meant you truly loved me. But it was all a facade. You’re a hypocrite, one face in front, another behind my back. You sicken me!” Her final words were a sneer of pure contempt. “Peter Hayes, you are no man at all!” Watching her, her eyes filled with nothing but resentment for me, her expression completely unable to reconcile with the blissful look she’d worn on our wedding day. For a moment, I stood rooted to the spot, unable to even feel the pain. She didn’t press me further. Instead, she turned, linked her arm through Chad’s, and left the house. Before she left, she uttered one last chilling sentence. “You think about what you’ve done! I’ll come back when you’ve sorted out this online mess!” The loud slam of the door echoed through the apartment. I collapsed onto the bed, utterly defeated. After a long moment, I pulled out my phone and called my old friends. “The contracts with Vance Group can be terminated.” “Let’s meet tomorrow. I’m going back to the Thorne family.” In the dead of night, my phone vibrated furiously, more than a dozen times. I forced open my bloodshot eyes, only to see explicit photos of my wife. Below them, a line of text: “I bet you’ve never seen Eleanor this sexy, have you? Ever heard her beg on the bed? Oh, right, I forgot, you’re a eunuch now. You won’t hear it again.” My knuckles, clutching the phone, tightened, then began to tremble uncontrollably. Finally, my hand dropped powerlessly. This relationship, it was time to end it. After a night of furious escalation, the online uproar had reached its peak. The moment I opened my eyes that morning, I saw an avalanche of messages from Eleanor, bombarding my phone. “I’m giving you one day. Clarify everything online. Don’t you dare disrupt my press conference tomorrow!” “Say that after your surgery, you lost your fertility, got jealous, and acted unreasonably with me, so you framed Chad.” “Did you see my messages? Speak up!” … Eight years of marriage, and for the first time, I realized just how shameless she could be. I didn’t reply. I deleted all her messages. After getting up and washing, I went to meet my friends. When I arrived at the private room, they had already ordered food. Seeing me, they all looked at me with sympathetic eyes. “We saw the news online. We always thought these kinds of dirty tricks only happened to women. Never thought men could be so disgusting when they stoop so low.” “Peter, just give the word. What’s the plan for today, now that you’ve called us here? Partnering with Vance Group has always been a loss. If it weren’t for your sake, I would have stopped ages ago. This is perfect!” “Oh, right, you probably don’t know what that guy in the photos used to do, do you? Come on, buddy, I’ve got a surprise for you.” One of my friends handed me his phone. The screen showed Chad’s obsequious face, serving drinks at a private karaoke bar. Recalling his manipulative, ‘green tea’ behavior last night, it all made sense now. Eleanor’s taste was truly sickening. I told my friends about my plan to return to the Thorne family and my intention to divorce. To help me get some revenge, they promised to prepare a huge surprise for Eleanor’s press conference tomorrow. It was already noon when we dispersed. Eleanor, not having received my replies, was growing anxious. “Peter Thorne, where are you? Didn’t you see my messages? Clarify things in the company chat right now!” “Everyone in the company is targeting Chad today; even the security guards are walking all over him. I don’t believe you had no hand in this!” “When did you become this kind of person? How long are you going to act so unreasonably?” I was about to reply when another message popped up on my screen. It was from my mother-in-law. She reminded me to take care of myself after discharge and to take my medication on time. Frankly, after eight years of marriage, my mother-in-law had always been kind to me. That’s why I agreed to the kidney transplant. She had always tried to persuade Eleanor to treat me well. Unfortunately, I was destined to disappoint her good intentions now. After a two-second hesitation, I replied “Okay.” Yesterday, fearing Eleanor’s impatience, I hadn’t even had time to pick up my medication after being discharged. Leaving the hotel, I hailed a cab to the hospital. I never expected to see Eleanor at the entrance of the Obstetrics and Gynecology department. She was leaning against Chad’s shoulder, looking utterly delicate, clutching a pregnancy test report in her hand. Chad’s voice was arrogant, yet with a hint of nervousness. “Peter won’t find out, will he? I’m so sorry, I was just too careless. I should have kept it on.” “Why are you afraid of him?” Eleanor scoffed, her voice laced with disdain. “He’s turned into a eunuch himself; I’m practically giving him a son for free. He’ll be too grateful to ask questions.” She then added with a confident smirk, “Don’t worry. Tonight, I’ll just send him a message, and he’ll come running. He won’t suspect a thing. He’ll probably even think it’s his own!” Watching them embrace and walk away, my heart throbbed with a dull, excruciating pain. I could barely breathe. Once they were out of sight, I went to the Obstetrics and Gynecology department and retrieved Eleanor’s report. If she chose to be cruel, then I could be unjust. She wanted me to clarify things at the press conference tomorrow? I would expose their affair for all to see! That night, I returned to the Thorne family estate, and Eleanor did not come home. Chad sent me a message. The photo attached showed a Porsche supercar’s transfer of ownership contract. Eleanor was giving away the five-year anniversary gift I’d bought for her. I knew this was Eleanor’s compensation to him. But by now, I no longer cared. Just as I was about to turn off my phone, he sent another photo. The car was parked in the garden, beneath a sky full of stars. A woman’s stockings were pushed down, draped limply over her ankles. “Have you ever tried this position? She said you were too old to satisfy her, and she practically begged me to do it in the car. If I weren’t young, I might not have been able to keep up.” After I decided to leave, nothing he sent, no matter how outrageous, could stir my emotions. As usual, I took a screenshot, saved it, and then turned off my phone to rest.

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After five years of marriage to Julian Vance, his long-dead childhood sweetheart miraculously came back to life. She moved into my home, kissed my husband, and even my child started calling her ‘Mom.’ Julian said she had cancer, that he needed to make amends. He told me to be generous and kind. My son, Liam Vance, said, “You’re just not as gentle or pretty as she is. She doesn’t have any scars.” I chose to grant their wish and faked my own death to escape. Finally, I found the peaceful life I yearned for. A decade and more passed in a blink. Then, Liam Vance enrolled at the very university where I taught. He found me, his eyes red-rimmed, demanding, “If you didn’t want me, why did you give birth to me?” 1 It was during a class break, the ground floor of the academic building bustling with students. Liam Vance ignored the curious glances around us, gripping my sleeve tightly. His burning gaze made me feel as if I were being roasted over an open fire. I lowered my eyelids, forcing myself to appear calm. “Student, you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m unmarried and have no children.” The young man’s voice remained level as he countered, “Are you? The exact same face, the same build, even the same name.” He paused, his grip tightening. “Did I make a mistake, or are you just afraid to admit the truth?” It was truly a twist of fate. After faking my death and fleeing overseas, I encountered the Martin family, a couple who had recently lost their daughter. Seeing a resemblance between me and their deceased child, they asked me to assume her identity. Coincidentally, her name was also Cassidy. Sometimes, you just have to admit that there’s another ‘you’ out there in the world. I took Cassidy Martin’s place, completed my doctorate abroad, and became a university professor. Later, Mr. Martin passed away, and his dying wish was to return to his homeland. So, I brought Mrs. Martin back to the States. Not long ago, Mrs. Martin also passed. In this vast, indifferent world, I was once again alone. As for Liam Vance, the child I had long left behind, I never imagined I would see him again. His sudden appearance caught me completely off guard. I had once imagined what he would look like grown up. But he seemed to resemble neither me nor Julian. I searched my mind, but his childhood appearance was already a blur. When I left the Vance family, I was utterly alone, walking away with resolute finality. All the cherished photographs I possessed had been consumed by fire. My thoughts raced, chaotic. Liam’s grip tightened, as if he feared I would vanish if he loosened his hold even slightly. A familiar colleague passed by on their way to class, pausing to ask about the situation. They stepped in to help. “Young Mr. Vance, you’ve truly made a mistake. People simply resemble each other sometimes. Don’t delay Professor Martin’s class.” Liam’s expression wavered, and his grip slackened. Seizing the chance, I quickly pulled my hand free and ascended the stairs. At the landing, I glanced back at Liam, who looked lost and forlorn. He was as striking as Julian, always effortlessly noticeable in a crowd. He seemed heartbroken. But I felt no pang of sympathy. I merely told myself, Cassidy, you can look back, but never walk back. 2 Teaching always engrossed me, and I quickly pushed the unexpected encounter from my mind. Back in my office, the heating was stifling. I removed my coat but left my scarf on. A new faculty member opposite me kindly pointed it out. “Professor Martin, you forgot to take off your scarf.” I smiled, offering no explanation. Lesson planning, grading papers, lunch, a short nap. Liam’s appearance didn’t seem to affect me. My life continued as it always had. At least, on the surface. I reclined my chair, pulled a thin blanket over me, confirmed my alarm for my nap was set, and closed my eyes. Soon, I was drifting off. But I had clearly underestimated the psychological impact of Liam’s sudden presence. For the first time in years, I dreamt of Julian Vance and Liam. Julian and I had an arranged marriage, a business alliance. My father, in his youth, had been kind to Julian’s father. He hadn’t asked for anything in return. But then, my father’s business ran into trouble, forcing him to seek help from the Vance family. Julian’s father agreed to help but proposed a union through marriage. At the time, I had a secret crush on Julian. But I also knew he had a girl he loved, Ashley Hayes. So, I never dared to express my feelings. Yet, in the gilded cage of aristocratic marriage, one’s own desires were often irrelevant. When I learned I was to marry him, I was so overjoyed I couldn’t sleep all night. I believed I could, with time and effort, slowly win his heart. But halfway through the wedding, news broke that the plane Ashley was on had crashed. She had left heartbroken, and that flight had plunged into the deep sea, leaving no trace. Julian calmly let the wedding proceed. But I knew his heart was now fortified by high walls. The eternally youthful Ashley Hayes had truly taken up residence there. So, I suggested Julian and I remain married in name only. But he descended upon me, his eyes dark with fury, devoid of any tenderness. He whispered savagely in my ear, “Does it hurt? Endure it. Ashley died because of the Martin family. This is all your family’s fault.” After that night, the Martin family went bankrupt, completely vanishing from Capital City’s elite circles. My father, in despair, jumped from a building. My mother suffered a mental breakdown and was confined to a sanatorium. I still remember the night my father died. Julian was dead drunk. He stumbled into my bedroom, raging, a wild beast unleashed. “Cassidy Martin, I want you to feel a hundred, a thousand times more pain than I do.” I wanted to die. But Julian saw through me. “If you don’t want your mother to suffer, then you will live. You know I have my ways.” I couldn’t die even if I wanted to, and living brought only torment. 3 My marriage to Julian was suffocating, oppressive. In public, we were the golden couple, the picture of adoration. At banquets, entertaining guests, we were always inseparable. The media frequently captured photos of him buying luxury brands or expensive jewelry for me, calling him a doting husband. But in private, he would unleash his fury on me, cursing me, telling me I was no different from a prostitute. Each time our intimacy ended, he would throw expensive jewelry at my face. “That’s your service fee. Consider it gilded.” I didn’t know when this life would end. I didn’t know how much longer I could endure. Thankfully, my mother’s condition improved, and she was discharged. I didn’t want her to worry, so I would praise Julian in front of her, calling him thoughtful and kind, a wonderful man. But no matter how well I pretended, how could a mother not see through it? Leaving a letter expressing her wish for me to find freedom, she followed my father. My spirit completely crumbled. I stopped eating, drinking, crying, or reacting. Before long, I fell into a coma, my vital signs gradually fading. My consciousness was clear. I, like a warped being, yearned for death, for complete liberation. But Julian wouldn’t allow it. Each time I neared death, a pair of hands pulled me back. Julian sobbed, speaking in my ear. His tone was filled with a pleading tenderness I had never heard from him. He said he had lost to me. He had, in fact, fallen in love with me through our daily interactions. How laughable. After being revived and regaining consciousness, the doctor informed me I was pregnant. The flower of pain had borne fruit, and I felt my entire life had been completely bound. I didn’t anticipate this child’s birth. I secretly scheduled an abortion at another hospital. But Julian found me anyway. He held me captive, assigning round-the-clock guards. Until I gave birth to Liam. 4 The dream was long, and I fell back into anguish. Thankfully, my alarm clock dragged me out. After my afternoon classes, I headed to the parking lot to retrieve my car. As I passed the sports field, a basketball flew directly towards me. My mind went blank instantly. I instinctively raised my hand to block it. The anticipated pain never came. I opened my eyes and saw Liam, struck and injured, before me. A mix of emotions churned within me. Despite my desire to avoid any further entanglement with him, I couldn’t bring myself to abandon a student who had just shielded me, especially under the watchful eyes of so many. After taking him to the campus infirmary for bandages, I prepared to leave. Liam called out to me, “Professor Martin, I helped you. Shouldn’t you thank me?” I stopped, turning back. “Didn’t I already say thank you?” “Verbal thanks are so boring. How about something more practical?” He slowly strolled over to me. “Today’s my birthday. Could you… have dinner with me?” Those sealed memories, with the trailing end of that sentence, flooded back. Though I hadn’t anticipated Liam’s birth, perhaps it was the immense suffering of his difficult, prolonged delivery, or perhaps it was simply maternal instinct, but I cherished him deeply. Once, he was nearly scalded by boiling water. I, without a second thought, instinctively lunged and hugged him, shielding him. The entire pot of scalding water poured over my neck. Afterward, to soothe a terrified Liam, I comforted him for four hours straight. Consequently, I missed the optimal time for treatment, leaving a permanent scar. I didn’t mind the scar, as long as my child was safe and healthy. To give him a joyful and happy family environment, I cooperated with Julian, playing the part of a loving couple. Until he turned four. That façade of happiness was ripped away. After Liam was born, Julian grew very fond of family life. He repeatedly expressed a desire for another child, but I always refused. As a result, he doted intensely on his only son. Liam’s birthday parties grew grander each year. For his fourth birthday, Liam, now in preschool, Julian invited all his classmates to play at the amusement park and ski resort he had built specially for the occasion. Halfway through the party, an unexpected guest arrived. It was Ashley Hayes. I had seen her photos on Julian’s phone. Beautiful, elegant, and now with an added touch of mature charm. Perhaps the shock of her return from the dead was too overwhelming, for Julian looked bewildered, unable to believe his eyes. But when Ashley spoke his name, he instinctively let go of my hand. It turned out Ashley had missed her original flight and rebooked for the next one, narrowly escaping the crash. She hadn’t wanted to disturb Julian’s life, so she had never reappeared. It was only when her job recently transferred her back to the country that she thought to come and visit. Old friends reunited, small talk was inevitable. Julian arranged for Ashley to stay at an apartment he owned and didn’t return home that night. I knew very well that my life was about to be turned upside down again. But I never expected even my sole solace to be snatched away. 5 A bewildered Liam had once asked me who Ashley Hayes was. I didn’t know how to answer. So I said, “Let Daddy tell you, okay?” The next morning, Julian returned home, his steps weary and unsteady. Liam, licking milk from the corner of his mouth, repeated the question. Julian suddenly lost his temper. “Cassidy Martin, you’re disgusting! You’re using the child!” He gestured towards Ashley. “She has cancer. What’s wrong with me taking care of her a little more?” He fixed his gaze on me. “You’ve already gotten so much. Why can’t you be generous and kind?!” I glanced at the faint, tell-tale red marks on his collar, understanding silently. Liam, startled by his father’s outburst, burst into tears. Julian, his reason returning, apologized to me, but I said nothing. Ashley’s company had business dealings with Julian’s, leading to increased interactions between them. Unbeknownst to me, Liam also grew increasingly dependent on her. I noticed the change one evening. I was, as usual, telling him a bedtime story. After only two sentences, Liam started to fuss, demanding Ashley tell him a story instead. I had no choice but to let him. It was only afterward that I realized the three of them had been doing many things behind my back. Later, Ashley invited us to dinner for her birthday. Perhaps fueled by alcohol, she tearfully recounted her experiences over the past few years. Liam’s face was filled with sympathy. He walked over, grasped her little finger, and kissed her cheek. “Pretty Auntie, don’t cry. Mom stole Daddy, so Liam will make it up to you.” A vague premonition settled in my heart that Liam and I might grow distant. Yet, a sliver of hope lingered. He was my child, after all; this blood connection couldn’t be severed. But that sliver of hope shattered the moment I heard Liam call her ‘Mom.’

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1 The night my in-laws were kidnapped, my husband was off camping with Scarlett, the girl he’d always carried a torch for. I didn’t try to stop him, not a word. I just called 911 immediately. In my last life, I’d held him back. He stayed to rescue his parents, missing his chance to be with Scarlett. Later, she was found in the mountains, mauled to death by wolves, a truly horrific sight. Afterwards, my husband became a ghost in his own home, silent and distant, until I was heavily pregnant, on the verge of labor. He abandoned me deep in those same mountains. “Sarah Wilson,” he’d snarled, his eyes blazing with a chilling madness, “if it weren’t for you, Scarlett would be alive! How can you live so peacefully? I want to watch you suffer every agonizing moment she did!” Torn apart by wild beasts, both my child and I perished. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my in-laws were kidnapped. This time, he didn’t join the rescue. He got his wish, saving Scarlett, but the experience turned his hair white overnight. A terrified scream tore from my throat as my eyes snapped open. My body was drenched in a cold sweat, my clothes clinging to me. The phantom agony of flesh being ripped still lingered. I reached down, my hand pressing against my flat stomach, listening to the frantic thrum of my heart. Tears, like broken strings of pearls, streamed down my face. I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the time. I was reborn. It was the very day my in-laws would be taken. Any moment now, the kidnappers would call, demanding thirty million dollars in ransom money, to be delivered within thirty minutes, or they’d execute them. Ethan and I had been childhood sweethearts. Our families had agreed to an arranged marriage for us when we were just children. Whether it was for a strategic family alliance or simply because of my heart’s unwavering devotion, I knew I was destined to be his wife. I was aware of his previous girlfriend, but his family had never approved. Before we married, I’d asked him, searching his eyes for truth: was he marrying me willingly? Was it out of love? He’d answered yes, both times. reassured, I walked down the aisle with him, into what I hoped would be a lifetime of happiness. After the wedding, he grew distant, cold, and still tangled with his ex. I pretended not to see, not to hear, silent. I loved him. I didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to lose our marriage. For that, I’d paid with my life, and tragically, the life of the child I’d carried for ten months. Given this second chance, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. I watched Ethan Miller jog down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the vast living room. Slowly, deliberately, I rose from the sofa. Our eyes met. His voice was low, laced with an unsettling edge. “I won’t be home tonight.” I said nothing, merely turning my head toward the phone beside the sofa. It was ringing. The kidnappers. I snatched it up, hitting speakerphone. “Robert Miller and Eleanor Miller are in our hands. Thirty million dollars in ransom. Deliver it to Grandview Plaza in thirty minutes. If you dare call the police, they die instantly!” The kidnapper’s harsh voice filled the room. Ethan merely frowned, then let out a scoffing, disbelieving laugh. “Sarah Wilson, isn’t this getting a little old?” he sneered. “How long are you going to keep them playing this charade for you?” I looked at his face, remembering how he’d watched me fall into that hellish abyss. Ten years of love, perhaps more, dissolved like smoke. “Ethan Miller, you heard the call. What you choose to do is your business. I’m not involved. If you want to believe it’s a performance, that’s fine. But let me emphasize this: I am not putting on a show with them.” Perhaps my voice was too calm, too devoid of the panic he expected. Ethan hesitated for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But in the end, he turned and strode out, his footsteps echoing with finality. In the last life, when he received that same call, Ethan had reacted the same way. But I knew it wasn’t a charade. I’d desperately held him back, and after a night of frantic searching, his parents were rescued. But as soon as they were safe, he vanished, only to return with the devastating news of Scarlett Reed’s death. 2 He blamed me for everything. After Ethan left, I immediately called 911. Thirty million dollars wasn’t a small sum, and it had to be cash. I couldn’t just produce it instantly. Besides, there was no guarantee the kidnappers would release them even if they got the money. I had to call the police, let the professionals handle this. I dialed 911, and they dispatched officers from the nearest precinct. But before the police arrived at my door, I received a call from someone familiar. “Hey, Sarah, it’s Mike Davis. Are you and Ethan having problems?” My brow furrowed. “What do you want, Mike?” I asked, my voice edged with impatience. “Well, you just called 911, didn’t you? I know we’re friends, but making false police reports isn’t a small matter. You and Ethan can argue all you want, but you can’t go wild like this. Ethan and Scarlett have nothing going on. You’re being so relentless, it’s making Ethan look like a fool.” I listened for a while, finally understanding what he was implying. “What are you saying? Did Ethan tell you I made a false report?” A silence stretched on the other end. I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Mike, I advise you to dispatch officers immediately to handle this situation. Otherwise, I’ll be filing a complaint.” Mike scoffed. “Sarah Wilson, don’t treat everyone like Ethan Miller, ready to do your bidding. I’m not your family’s security. You’re a shrew. Scarlett’s little finger is worth more than you.” I hung up. Then I redialed 911, and immediately reported Mike. The second police unit arrived about fifteen minutes later. They asked me a few questions and listened to the recording of the first call. Everyone’s expression was grim. They quickly traced the incoming number; it was unregistered, and calling back got a disconnected signal. All they could do was wait for another call. While the officers waited, I contacted my private financial manager. “How much liquid cash do I have available?” I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. “Seventeen million? Prepare all of it.” After hanging up, I called Ethan’s uncle, David Miller. Hearing that Robert and Eleanor had been kidnapped, he gasped. “Who did it? Is Ethan there?” “I don’t know who the kidnappers are, Uncle. Ethan went camping with Scarlett. They’re demanding thirty million dollars in cash. I can’t raise enough on my own. Can you gather what you can? I’ll pay you back in a week.” “Sarah, child, for my brother and sister-in-law? Don’t talk about paying me back! How much are you short?” “Thirteen million.” “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” The half-hour flew by. The phone rang again. I snatched it up, and the tech officer beside me immediately began tracing the call, but quickly shook his head. Untraceable. My heart sank. I heard the kidnapper’s harsh voice. “Time’s up. Is the money delivered?” “Not yet. Please, I need more time. My husband isn’t here, and I don’t have that much money on hand.” “I told you. If the money isn’t here when time’s up, we execute them!” I pleaded desperately, “Don’t hurt them! You want money, don’t you? Killing them means you get nothing. That’s a loss. Give me another half-hour. I promise I’ll have the money then.” No sooner had I spoken than my in-laws’ agonizing screams echoed from the phone. The kidnapper’s cruel voice cut in again. “Half an hour. Five fingers per person! If you want to stall, then stall away!” The call disconnected. Just then, Mike appeared in the doorway. He’d heard everything. His face was ashen, his eyes wide with horror. 3 “Ethan told me,” Mike stammered, his voice barely a whisper, “he said your parents were just putting on a show to keep him home…” I didn’t bother to reply. The officer beside me spoke instead. “Call Ethan. Tell him what’s happening.” Mike nodded, stepping aside to make the call. A dial tone, then a voice: “The number you have dialed is currently busy.” I thought of Eleanor, so delicate, needing even a hot water scald to be blown on. Now, I couldn’t imagine the pain she was enduring. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and quickly called Uncle David. His line was also busy. Just minutes after I hung up, Uncle David called me. Before I could even ask if he’d managed to gather the money, he sighed deeply. “Sarah, it’s not that your uncle is scolding you, but how could you use such a thing to trick your elders? Your aunt and uncle spoil you, but you need to tell them to be reasonable. If I hadn’t asked Ethan, my heart would’ve given out from the shock.” In that moment, my heart turned to ashes. “Ethan told you this was a charade? Uncle, you don’t have to believe me, but can you reach my in-laws? The police are here with me right now.” The person on the other end sighed repeatedly. Then he said, “Ethan has someone else in his heart, child. If it’s truly not working, just divorce him. It would be a relief for both of you.” I hung up. Mike, meanwhile, had finally gotten through to Ethan. “Ethan, you need to come back now,” Mike urged, his voice strained. “Your mom and dad… it looks like they really have been kidnapped.” But it wasn’t Ethan who replied. It was Scarlett. “Mikey, are you playing along with Miss Sarah’s little act too? Your Ethan is barbecuing right now. I’ll tell him to pick up.” A moment later, I heard Scarlett relay Mike’s words to Ethan. Ethan didn’t even take the phone. He just told Scarlett, “Hang up. That lunatic Sarah. She can’t stand to see anyone happy for a day.” The call ended. Mike looked at me, his brow deeply furrowed. I lowered my gaze, a bitter smile twisting my lips. “I have no other ideas, but they told me to bring the money to Grandview Plaza. Even though it’s not enough, I have to go. If I go as bait, won’t that increase your chances of solving the case?” The female officer beside me stepped forward. “Miss Wilson, I’ll go deliver it.” I smiled. “What if the kidnappers recognize me? If you go, they’ll know something’s up. You protect me from the perimeter. I’ll deliver it myself.” Since no one else had a viable plan, they agreed to my request. When the kidnappers called again, I bluffed, telling them I had gathered the money. I pressed them to confirm the delivery location, assuring them I’d bring it myself, a direct exchange of people for money. I heard a cold chuckle on the other end, then a casual reply: “Alright.” A sudden, chilling dread settled in my gut. Before he hung up, I quickly asked, “I need to hear them.” “Why the rush, Miss Wilson? You’ll see them soon enough.” With that, the call ended. I had my financial manager withdraw the cash. I dragged a suitcase stuffed with money to the designated spot. Then, the kidnappers called again, telling me to go to the underground parking lot; my in-laws were waiting there. I ignored the money; the police were upstairs. I sprinted into the underground parking garage. I found Eleanor and Robert’s car. The door was open. Both of them had their throats slit, blood gushing from the horrific wounds. Tears streamed down my face, uncontrollable. I stumbled forward, my legs threatening to give out, pulling out my phone and dialing 911 as I ran. “Grandview Plaza, underground parking! Two people, throats slit! Please hurry!” I desperately clutched their hands. “Mom, Dad, hold on! The doctors will be here soon!”

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The night Lydia Blackwood’s beloved, Celeste, coughed incessantly, I knew what was coming. They whispered that the heart of a serpentine familiar could cure any ailment, any lung rot. So Lydia ordered my ancient familiar, the very viper that had been coiled around my wrist for eons, to be cleaved in two. Its living heart, still beating, was ripped from its flesh. Eons of arcane power, cultivated over millennia, evaporated in an instant, turning to ash. My eyes widened, bloodshot with horror, as I desperately tried to shield my familiar, to protect the dying serpent. “You know my true nature!” I pleaded, my voice raw, a choked gasp. “You know that if the viper vanishes, if its essence is destroyed, I cannot survive in this world!” But Lydia only sneered, a cold, mocking laugh. Right before my eyes, she peeled away its iridescent scales, flaying it alive. “Only Grandmother would believe your wretched lies,” she spat, contempt dripping from every word. “Do you really think you can deceive me with such theatrics? It’s just a common snake, after all. I’ll buy you another one, a dozen even.” By morning, my hair had turned stark white. Clutching the jar containing the remnants of my familiar, I sought out Lady Blackwood. “I have shielded House Blackwood from its final calamity,” I stated, my voice hollow, echoing the emptiness within. “I have settled the debt of gratitude for your mother saving my life a century ago. Now, my physical form is ruined, and I can no longer offer my protection to this lineage. Release me.” … An ethereal mist curled slowly upwards from the severed halves of the viper. The healer shook his head, his face grim. “A strike to its life-force. Whoever severed this familiar knew exactly how to extinguish its essence completely. There’s no saving it now.” I scooped the two bloodied, mangled halves into a jar with my own hands. My familiar and I shared an empathic connection. Even now, I could feel the agonizing pain of a blade severing my lower back, the raw, tearing sensation of my skin being flayed alive. Lady Blackwood clutched my arm, her frail hand trembling, as she cursed Lydia, calling her an abomination. “I warned her a thousand times! That viper is your very lifeblood! How could she dare to rip out its heart with her own hands!” My legs, numb and unresponsive, dragged forward. Lydia knew better than anyone the bond I shared with my familiar. Yet she had cleaved the viper in two before my very eyes. She had watched me collapse in agony, then seized the back of my neck, snarling, “You play-act so well! You used these theatrics to trick Grandmother into believing your absurd tales before. Did you truly think I’d believe you’re some ancient spirit?!” With that, she ordered the familiar’s heart to be removed. She watched me fall to my knees, writhing in soul-shattering pain, then tossed the two halves of the viper onto the floor before me like garbage. “If you insist your eons of power were stored within this viper, then it must be incredibly potent. If it actually cures Marcus’s cough, I’ll get you another one to continue your little charade for Grandmother.” Lost in thought, the butler rushed into the healer’s office. He placed a cardboard box into my hands, saying Lydia had ordered it delivered to me immediately. I fought through the intense pain racking my body and opened the box. Suddenly, a large hawk flew out. The hawk seemed to sense the lingering essence of my familiar in the jar. It swooped down, its predatory gaze fixed on the container. I instinctively shielded the jar with my back, trying to conjure a protective charm, but my hands remained unresponsive, lifeless. I had forgotten. My power was utterly drained. All I could do was helplessly hunch my back, trying to ward off its attack. It is widely known that even the most venomous serpent quails before the hunter of the skies. The ancient, primal fear of my kind seized me, a terror etched deep into my very bones. The hawk’s talons tore into my back, leaving several bleeding gashes, before Lady Blackwood’s furious shouts brought the guards, who finally bludgeoned it to death. I lay on the ground, motionless, only vaguely aware of a soft thud. I heard the respected Lady Blackwood fall to her knees before me. “Dorian,” she wept, her voice trembling, “I truly never imagined that wicked girl, Lydia, could do something so monstrous. You are House Blackwood’s Guardian Spirit. I will find another place, a sacred sanctuary, where you can safely recuperate your power. I beg you, for the sake of my mother’s act of salvation, forgive Lydia this once, and continue to protect House Blackwood.” I didn’t know how to respond. A century ago, Lady Blackwood’s mother had found me in the wilderness, near death, almost carried off by a ravenous eagle. She had brought me back to her home, painstakingly bandaging my wounds. In gratitude, after achieving my ascension and becoming a Guardian Spirit, I sought her out and vowed to protect House Blackwood for generations. Later, to save Lydia, I had broken ancient tenets, forcibly manifesting a human form, yet could only preserve my vast arcane power within the familiar. But now… the viper’s physical form had been destroyed by Lydia’s own hands. My power was utterly drained, and I had completely lost the ability to protect House Blackwood. I looked at Lady Blackwood, still kneeling before me, and a resolute purpose hardened in my eyes. “I promised your mother to protect the Blackwood lineage for generations. But now, my power is gone. I have lost the ability to be a Guardian Spirit. Please, in consideration of the countless times I have averted calamity for House Blackwood, and for the sacrifice I made to save Lydia’s life, consider my debt to your mother fully repaid. Let me go.” Clutching the jar, I limped back to the estate. Before I even entered the grand hall, the sound of intimate whispers, of a man and a woman, drifted through the closed doors. “They say his familiar granted him… certain favors, didn’t it?” I heard Marcus’s crude voice, thick with triumph. “Made you unable to leave his bed, perhaps? But now its heart is gone, consumed. How about we see if my abilities have changed, shall we?” Lydia’s voice, husky with pleasure, replied, “He wasn’t a true familiar, Marcus. And besides, you know better than anyone… only you can satisfy me.” I flung the doors open. Lydia seemed to ignore me, continuing to passionately embrace Marcus, who sat casually on the sofa. It was Marcus, however, who watched in horror as my dark hair suddenly turned white. He recoiled from Lydia, clutching his chest, coughing uncontrollably. He choked on his words, gasping, his voice a frantic whisper as he pointed, “Monster! You’re a monster!” Each word seemed to seize his lungs, leaving him gasping for air. Lydia’s brow furrowed. She gently patted Marcus’s back, then suddenly lunged at me, raising her hand and slapping my face. “What new trick are you using to turn your hair white? Are you deliberately trying to make Marcus choke to death?” Her high heel ground mercilessly into my foot. From the sofa, Marcus gave me a smug, triumphant look, then deliberately coughed a few more times, clutching his chest. He suddenly raised his hand, pointing at the jar I held. “Lydia, Dorian probably didn’t mean it. But if his pet snake’s heart was so effective for a cough, then a viper stew must surely help too.” Both their gazes fell, as one, upon the jar. I clutched it tighter. “Lydia Blackwood,” I rasped, my voice barely a whisper, “you know I shared a bond with the viper. Do you know that if it were made into a stew, I would also…” The unspoken words hung in the air: suffer the agony of being scalded alive. But she didn’t even have the patience to listen. She slapped the jar from my grasp. The butler, at her command, whisked the remnants of my familiar away to the kitchen to be made into a stew. Soon, a searing heat consumed me, a scorching inferno that made me dig my nails into my thighs, desperate to fight the agony. Even plunging myself into a tub of cold water offered no relief. Lydia suddenly stormed in, grabbing my stark white hair, demanding to know if I had deliberately dyed it white to run to Lady Blackwood and complain about her. “You always use these dark arts to deceive Grandmother! You even claimed you sacrificed your own power to save my life before! If Marcus hadn’t told me that he personally went abroad to buy medicine for me, sneaking it to me when you weren’t looking, my family would have just let you keep me locked in my room, letting me die without a single dose of medicine!” Lydia dragged me from the cold water, watching me curl into a ball, kneeling on the floor, trembling from the agonizing heat. She loomed over me, her gaze imperious. “You should know, House Blackwood has a Guardian Spirit that ensures the husband of every eldest Blackwood daughter lives a long life. If I hadn’t believed your words back then, mistakenly thinking it was you who saved me, I never would have married you! This destined long life should have been Marcus’s! You must give him your place!” I stubbornly met her gaze, then closed my eyes and let out a humorless laugh. He, who had personally destroyed House Blackwood’s very destiny, thought he would live a long life? “He wants to replace me as your husband, and live to a hundred? He’s dreaming!” A few hours later, the viper stew was served. I remained submerged in the cold water, biting down on a chopstick so hard that my jaw ached, my hands clenching the porcelain edge of the tub until fragments dug deep into my palms. The sensation of being torn and gnawed spread from my legs to the crown of my head. The last wisp of ethereal mist, my remaining essence, rose from my body. “Dorian, your dramatics are truly pathetic,” Lydia scoffed, her voice echoing into the bathroom. “You stole Marcus’s place, his rightful claim to a long and prosperous life. All I took was your wretched pet snake. Do you really need to act as if you’re dying? It only makes me sick!” With that, Lydia and Marcus continued to share the bowl of viper stew. I watched the ominous, swirling shadows coalesce above their heads, then slowly closed my eyes. The Blackwood lineage was always cursed, plagued by misfortune. Only I, by sacrificing my arcane power, had ever shielded them from calamity. Now that the last shred of my essence was gone, House Blackwood’s fortune would slowly begin to unravel. House Blackwood’s ancestors, simple fishermen, had built their fortune on a legacy of spilled blood and suffering. I, driven by gratitude, had painstakingly maintained a small sanctuary for their lineage. Over a decade ago, Lady Blackwood had knelt before the Ancestral Shrine, before the idol of the Guardian Spirit, begging me to reveal myself and save young Lydia, who was trapped in a deathly slumber. Lydia was destined for an early demise in childhood. It was I who, to repay her grandmother’s kindness, poured my very essence, my entire cultivated power, into her, drop by agonizing drop, prolonging her life. Year after year, my power had already been significantly depleted. And to save her, I had broken ancient tenets, forcibly manifesting a human form, enduring three days and three nights of divine lightning. I had almost perished. When Lydia awoke, she saw me sitting cross-legged by her bed, a viper coiled around my wrist. She didn’t seem afraid; instead, she gently stroked the viper’s head. “Dorian, thank you for saving me. I will beg Grandmother to agree to my marriage to you!” Lydia claimed she didn’t care about my true nature. She pleaded desperately with Lady Blackwood, enduring a brutal family lashing that left her unable to stand. Yet she stubbornly held her back straight, determined to become my wife. It was the first time in ten thousand years that I felt my heart pound so furiously it threatened to leap from my throat. After our marriage, Lydia learned how vital the viper was to me. She cherished it, cradling it in her hands, even personally preparing its food. But everything changed a few months later, with Marcus’s arrival. Lydia began to doubt that I had saved her with my power. She found a bottle of medicine for neurological disorders under her bed and smashed it before me. “I actually believed your monstrous tales! So it was all a cunning scheme for you to insinuate yourself into House Blackwood! I recovered because of Marcus’s medicine, didn’t I?!” She brutally ripped the viper from my wrist, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it. I choked, uncontrollably spitting up blood. But all I could do was watch as she seized the viper by its life-force and held it out the window, threatening to drop it. “Without your viper, let’s see how you’ll continue to play your charades for Grandmother!” The viper was thrown from the window. Consequently, I suffered fractured legs and was confined to bed for six months.

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Two years after my childhood friend, Bob, had rejected my ninety-nine marriage proposals, he called me, his voice a heart-wrenching sob. His grandmother was gravely ill, he choked out, and her dying wish was to see him married. He not only agreed to marry me, but he’d also prepared a wedding gown for me and booked a venue. But when I arrived at the grand hall, dressed in the gown, his friends suddenly erupted in laughter. “She’ll believe anything, won’t she? And she actually swapped the discount, mail-order dress for a haute couture one! What a prime example of a simpering puppy!” Then they bellowed to the bewildered guests, “The groom’s mistress is here to crash the wedding!” “Security! Get the mistress!” Guests rose from their seats, their gazes converging on me, eager for the spectacle. Bob, meanwhile, gazed with sickening devotion at his lifelong crush, Valerie. “I promised I’d help you ruin the wedding, and I always keep my word,” he murmured, his voice laced with possessive triumph. “As long as I’m here, what you can’t have, no one else will!” Seeing Valerie finally smile, he then turned to me. “Valerie said that since you helped out this time, you can be a bridesmaid at our wedding. She even said you can continue to revolve around me afterwards.” It turned out he’d tricked me into coming here, all to help his precious Valerie sabotage the wedding of the man she couldn’t have. But then Bob saw the bride’s photo on the display stand, and his eyes suddenly went bloodshot. … The security guard’s hand on my shoulder jolted me awake. This was another elaborate charade. Bob brushed the guard’s hand away, a forced look of apology on his face. “My apologies, everyone, a misunderstanding! This is just a friend of mine. We were only playing a prank!” The guards grumbled and walked away. Bob, with an almost sickening gentleness, smoothed the wrinkles from my gown. “Elara, are you alright?” Bob’s friends were practically rolling on the floor with laughter. “Bob, you’re something else! Can’t believe she actually showed up just from one phone call!” “Yeah, that wedding dress looks expensive, though. Didn’t you say you told her it was a ninety-nine-dollar mail-order one?” “What a true simpering puppy, buying her own wedding dress! She must be absolutely desperate to marry Bob!” The spotlight from the chandelier hit my face, and the guests’ whispers drifted to me, each word more cutting than the last. My heart slowly sank. Bob raised a hand, feigning a punch at his friends. “Elara was a great help this time. You guys be nice to her!” Then he turned to me, his smile sickeningly sweet. “Thanks for today.” Just as I thought I detected a sliver of remorse, he rubbed his hands together, excitement bubbling in his voice. “Valerie said you did her a huge favor this time. When we get married later, we’ll ask you to be a bridesmaid!” He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “She won’t even mind if you keep revolving around me afterwards! How about that? Wasn’t today worth it?” His friends, seeing his gesture, chuckled. “Bob, don’t stand so close to her. She’ll get the wrong idea again!” “She came running to marry you without a second thought, and she never learns even after being fooled so many times. How much must she love you?” It turned out they all knew about my ninety-nine marriage proposals to Bob. Each time, he’d neither accepted nor rejected, just laughed it off, telling me to stop being silly. In the past, I would have been heartbroken, crying and running away. But this time, I merely rubbed my aching shoulder and spread my hands to his friends. “Well, since you’re all here, aren’t you going to offer a wedding gift?” Valerie, who had been hiding to the side, enjoying the spectacle, gasped in horror. “Elara! You didn’t seriously think this was your wedding, did you? Bob, darling, did we take this too far?” Valerie was Bob’s lifelong crush. He had manipulated and ridiculed me for her countless times. But Valerie, all along, only saw him as a backup. She went through boyfriends one after another, and every time she broke up, she would run to Bob, crying in his arms. Bob would affectionately ruffle her hair. “Silly girl, don’t worry, she’s just gone crazy from all the times I’ve rejected her.” Then his gaze flickered over my face, full of disdain. Even in that fleeting second, my heart still stung as if pricked by needles. He thought I had been tricked into coming here. But the truth was, last night, when he called, I was at the hospital, visiting his grandmother. The old woman was perfectly lucid, even pulling me into a conversation over pumpkin seeds. On the phone, his voice was choked with tears. “Elara, are you still willing to marry me?” My heart pounded for less than a second, then… “Grandmother… she’s fading…” I looked at the vibrant old woman before me, and the hand holding my phone slowly grew cold. If I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I would have thought he’d seen the digital invitation I’d posted on my social media and finally come to his senses, filled with regret. I answered calmly, “Alright.” After hanging up, someone sent me a screenshot of a group chat. Bob had posted my digital invitation in his friends’ group. [Look at this, Elara is harassing me into marriage to this extent!] His friends replied almost instantly: [There’s not even a picture on this invitation, she needs to commit to the bit if she wants to fool anyone!] [She must have found out Valerie was coming to see Bob, and she’s gone crazy with anxiety, hasn’t she?] Bob posted a sunglasses emoji: [I just called her and told her to come get married tomorrow.] A friend replied: [No need to guess, she definitely cried with happiness and said yes instantly!] Bob: [You guys all come tomorrow, at the address on her digital invitation. I’ve even got her a ninety-nine-dollar mail-order wedding dress ready.] [If it wasn’t for Valerie, I wouldn’t even spend ninety-nine dollars on her.] [Bob, maybe you should pity Elara and just enjoy having both of them tomorrow!] [Ugh, don’t disgust me. She’s not even fit to carry Valerie’s shoes! If Valerie hadn’t begged me, I wouldn’t have given her another chance to cling to me!] I thought that after all this time, such cruel words wouldn’t hurt me anymore. But my vision slowly blurred, and tears still ungracefully streamed down my face. My decades of devotion were worth less than a single request from Valerie. As long as Valerie was happy, he would gladly trample my dignity into the dirt. Bob and I grew up in the same neighborhood. Our fathers were colleagues. One day, they were down in the mine for inspection when an accident occurred, and the mine collapsed. To save my father, his father was permanently buried underground. Bob was only ten years old that year. His mother couldn’t bear the pressure of life and secretly ran away, leaving him and his grandmother to rely on each other. Out of guilt, I tried my best to be good to him. Falling in love with him seemed like a natural progression. But he fell for the beautiful transfer student, Valerie. He found me annoying trailing behind him, so he changed my college application to a school a thousand miles away. Valerie needed research data for a project, and he’d call me in the middle of the night, demanding I rush over. I had followed him like a loyal dog for fifteen years. But now, fifteen years had passed. My debt was repaid. It was time to let go. Valerie dramatically clutched my hand. “Elara, your diamond ring is huge!” Bob glanced at it, scoffing. “Probably from a discount store. Lab-grown diamonds aren’t worth much these days.” His friend, Butch, chimed in, egging him on. “Exactly, Elara! Don’t be so vain. If you’re really desperate to get married, Bob’s out of your league. Maybe I could stoop to it!” He grinned, exposing a mouthful of yellowed teeth, and reached out to touch my hand. I slapped his hand away hard, snarling, “Get lost!” Butch’s face crumpled in anger. He spat on the floor and cursed, “Pah! You think you’re some prize? Trying to be nice and you act like a spoiled brat. Do you really think I’d want you?!” Bob, hearing my words, flared with anger. “Elara, did I give you permission to talk to my friend like that?!” I watched his face redden with rage, and my heart grew colder with each passing moment. No matter how much I gave him, in his eyes, I was still worth less than Valerie. Even his hangers-on could mock and demean me at will. Valerie’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She tugged at Bob’s sleeve. “Bob, darling, don’t be so harsh on a girl. After all, she came to help.” She then walked towards me, her expression innocent. “Elara, thank you so much for today. Renting that wedding dress must have cost a lot, didn’t it? And it looks like haute couture! You really went all out!” Bob put his arm around her, his face filled with feigned concern. “Valerie, you’re just too kind. I’m sure she just rented it!” He glanced at me, his eyes full of mockery. “This is the most luxurious hotel in the city. Even I only rented it for an hour. How could she find a wealthy husband to book out the entire place?” Valerie pouted and burrowed into his embrace, like a delicate white flower, pure and utterly endearing. “Bob, darling, how can you say that about Elara? She’s genuinely devoted to you!” Having followed him for so many years, I had long seen through her true nature. A pure and innocent façade in public, but in private, she indulged in smoking, drinking, and every vice imaginable. Yet, Bob was completely ensnared by her false purity; he had even paid for her abortions. When I tried to kindly warn him, all I received was his furious glare.

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At the birthday feast, I unwittingly wore the late Duchess Consort Seraphina’s gown. The eight-year-old heir, young Arthur, publicly shoved me into the lily pond. He watched with cold, unfeeling eyes as I thrashed in the water, his expression mirroring his father, Duke Theron Vance – distant and utterly devoid of warmth. “Don’t think dressing like my mother will ever let you usurp her place,” he’d spat, his voice sharp and venomous. “The moment I come of age, I will cast you out of the Regent’s Keep!” The chill waters engulfed my body, chilling my very soul. Gazing at the child I had raised with my own hands, there was no sorrow, no fury within me, only a quiet sigh. “You needn’t cast me out. I shall leave tomorrow anyway.” 1. The late spring breeze was as cutting as Arthur’s glare. I accepted the cloak a chambermaid offered, intending to return to my chambers and change. But as I turned, a thorny bush by the pond caught my skirt. There was a sharp tearing sound. The hem of my gown, intricately embroidered with golden thread, ripped, a long, ragged tear marring its elegant sweep. “You wretched woman! That was my mother’s favorite gown when she was alive!” Arthur, who had been watching the spectacle with a sneer, transformed instantly into a furious, wild creature. His eyes blazed, red-rimmed with hatred. His childish face was twisted, brimming with scorn. I looked at him, my gaze complex. “Arthur, you’re lying.” The late Duchess Consort had always favored opulent silks and elaborate jewels; a gown of such simple elegance she would never have touched. Caught in his fabrication, Arthur’s bravado wavered. He stomped his foot in a burst of frustration, then turned and ran off, leaving a trail of youthful fury. I did not, as was my habit, pursue him to offer an explanation. After seeing off the last of the bewildered guests, I returned to my chambers alone. As I pushed open the door, a white cat, its neck brutally twisted, hung suspended before me. Scarlet blood dripped onto the polished marble floor, soaking my slippers and staining Nimbus’s soft, pure white fur. In my horrified stillness, Arthur’s defiant laugh echoed from behind me. “Hahaha! You deserve it! You made me lose my mother, and now I’ll make you lose what’s most important to you!” He made a childish, mocking face at me, then ran off, his laughter echoing down the silent corridor. I stood there, staring at the growing pool of blood on the floor, speechless for a long time. Years ago, I had arrived at the Capital, a solitary figure with my hawk, my wild horse, and a handful of sand from the Sunken Sands. But the sprawling Regent’s Keep had no room for any free or untamed soul. They had sent away my hawk, led away my horse. They had given me a wailing infant and a Persian white cat, a gift from some foreign envoy. It took me eight long years to nurture them, to raise them. To lose them, however, took but a mere instant. A sigh escaped me, and then I caught the familiar scent of sandalwood. I looked up. Duke Theron Vance stood silently before me. Father and son were indeed cut from the same stone. Both possessed the same aloof nobility, the same disdain for all lesser beings. He opened his arms, expecting me to step forward and attend to him, to loosen his robes and ease his burdens. He spoke, as if to himself, “I heard what happened today. Elara Hayes, you were at fault.” Seeing me remain motionless, his brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of displeasure in his eyes. His gaze swept over the bloodstained floor, and his tone softened, if only just. “The child is young. Why quarrel with him?” At Duke Theron’s unspoken command, the bloodstains on the floor were quickly wiped away. The candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows. Nimbus, who used to playfully chase the dancing flames, seemed to have never existed. Just like me. I had devoted myself to them for eight years, tending to their every need. Yet, I had failed to leave even a faint mark on the hearts of this father and son. Duke Theron, dressed in fresh robes, settled onto the daybed and gently tapped the low table, signaling me to pour him tea. I instinctively obeyed. As I drew near, his large hand encircled my waist, pulling me into his embrace. He gently caressed my cheek. “Today is your birthday, Elara. You need not take the anti-conception elixir tonight. If you conceive, consider it my gift to you.” His warm breath feathered against my neck, yet a shiver of ice ran through me. Duke Theron was a man of vigorous passions. In the first month of our union, I found myself with child. Before I could even rejoice, he sent a servant with a bitter draught. “I love only Seraphina in this life, and I shall have but one child: Arthur. Should you conceive, it would inevitably breed ambition in your heart, distracting you from your duties to Arthur.” Thereafter, after every shared intimacy, he would watch me drink the anti-conception elixir. For eight years, without fail, day after day. Today, faced with Duke Theron’s unexpected ‘grace,’ I should have trembled with gratitude, eager to serve him with utmost devotion. But for the first time, I recoiled from his touch. “Your Grace, the eight-year pact has concluded. Tomorrow, I must depart.” 2. The initial hint of intimacy vanished. Duke Theron’s voice was now tinged with irritation. “Arthur is just a child! As his mother, your failure to raise him properly is your fault. It is extraordinary clemency that I have not held you accountable. How dare you act so petulant?” Mother? I laughed, a bitter, self-mocking sound. Years ago, Duke Theron had fallen deeply in love with my legitimate sister, Seraphina Hayes. Disregarding differences in station, he had married her, elevating the entire Hayes family overnight from obscurity to prominence within the Capital. From a minor border commander guarding the remote Sunken Sands, he became a powerful Duke Regent. They had lived in perfect harmony, a love story envied by all. But cruel fate intervened, and my sister perished in childbirth. Fearing their newfound influence might wane, the Hayes family sent me to be a replacement. Duke Theron, heartbroken by Seraphina’s passing, refused to marry any other woman as his Duchess. Yet, he pitied young Arthur, who was left without a mother’s care. So, our two families negotiated an eight-year pact: I would remain in the Regent’s Keep as a Lady Companion. Though a Lady Companion, I held no marriage contract, nor was my name entered into the Royal Registry. A mere written agreement had sealed my fate, binding my entire life. How absurd. For eight years, I had served as Arthur’s mother. Yet, strictly speaking, I remained an unmarried woman. I gathered my thoughts, my voice calm. “I am not being petulant. The pact has expired.” I continued, my gaze steady. “Remaining in the Keep without official status would only bring ridicule upon you and the young Lord.” Duke Theron’s tightly furrowed brow relaxed slightly. His gaze held a mixture of probing and challenge, yet his tone softened by a fraction. “If you could bear an heir for the Keep, I would naturally inscribe your name and the child’s into the House Chronicles, elevating you to the status of a true Lady Companion…” “No need.” No one willingly debases themselves, choosing to live as a mere placeholder. In this life, I had already suffered enough as a baseborn child. How could I bear to let my own child suffer the same fate? I straightened my robes and retrieved the steward’s ledger and the deeds to the ducal estates and businesses from my chamber. “A few days ago, I painstakingly settled all the accounts. The Keep’s head steward is my sister’s dowry retainer; she will seamlessly take over my duties.” I added, my voice devoid of emotion, “Arthur has grown. He should be taught by renowned scholars. My own knowledge is shallow, and I am ill-suited to raise him further.” Duke Theron casually waved a hand. The immensely valuable land deeds, the stacks of gold coin receipts, and the parchment of our binding agreement scattered across the floor like dust. He stepped on them, utterly without remorse. “Elara Hayes, do not presume too much.” His voice was laced with menace. “Considering it is your birthday, I shall not press the matter. Remain in your chambers for these next few days, and reflect.” With a heavy boom, the vermilion wooden door slammed shut, separating our two worlds. I gazed at the slowly ascending light in the night sky and smiled, a mirthless curl of my lips. It was a wish lantern, sent aloft to celebrate my birthday and offer blessings. But today was not my birthday. It was the day Duke Theron and my sister had first met. The night before I was sent to the Keep, my mother, Lady Hayes, had sought me out. She told me to memorize every detail of my sister, to mimic her every word and gesture. “Elara, only by doing so will the Duke Regent look upon you favorably. Only then can you secure your position in the Keep.” As she had predicted, Duke Theron, who usually paid me no mind, meticulously remembered my birthday. It was the only day of the year I looked forward to, the only day I felt a semblance of warmth, a flicker of care, a fleeting sense of belonging. But… stolen moments always have to be returned. Lost in thought, a sharp sting pierced my forehead. Arthur, perched atop the garden wall, triumphantly raised his slingshot. “If you insist on lingering in the Keep, one day, it won’t be a stone hitting your forehead, but a sharp arrow!” He gloated over his precise shot, utterly forgetting that I was the one who had patiently taught him to ride and shoot, hand over hand. That year, Lady Hayes had placed the infant Arthur into my arms. Her words had been earnest. “The kindness of nurture surpasses the bond of birth. If you truly care for him, Arthur will grow to see you as his true mother and treat you with utmost filial devotion. No matter what, you are family, connected by blood.” The Hayes family had placed great expectations upon me. And I, amidst the deceptive grandeur of the Keep, had nurtured a forbidden fantasy. Yet, eight years had passed. This father and son… one saw me as nothing. The other… hated me to the bone. 3. “The night wind is strong. Be careful not to catch a chill.” I offered one last reminder, then turned to return to my room. The next morning, Lady Hayes rushed in, blocking my path. She knelt before me, just as she had eight years ago, pleading desperately. “Elara, Arthur is still so young. He cannot do without you.” She paused, her voice tinged with a desperate edge. “Your father and brothers rely on the Duke Regent’s patronage. The Hayes family’s future hinges on your favor. You cannot act so impulsively.” “You’ve spoken so much,” I replied, my voice weary, “why not ask if I am well?” Lady Hayes froze for a moment. The sound of a carriage arriving outside the gates interrupted her impending lecture. A graceful, alluring woman, smiling, walked in. The moment she entered, Arthur ran and threw himself into her arms. “Aunt Lilith, I missed you so much.” The two walked hand-in-hand directly past me. With the sweet scent of her perfume, whispers from the Keep’s servants drifted to me. “The Lady Companion is truly pathetic. Shamelessly clinging to the Keep, racking her brains to please the Duke and the young Lord. In the end, she can’t even compare to a courtesan.” “Yesterday she was demanding to leave, and today she’s clinging on. She’s probably afraid Aunt Lilith will take her place.” Arthur tilted his small face up, nuzzling into Lilith Meadowes’s embrace. “Father has been waiting for you, Aunt Lilith. Let’s go find him.” He looked at me, then back at her. “I like Aunt Lilith best. She smells so sweet, and her voice is so lovely, unlike those coarse women from the countryside.” I froze. I had grown up in the Sunken Sands, and when I first arrived in the Capital, everything felt alien. The northern winds had chilled me to the bone, bringing on one illness after another. The Keep’s servants mocked my rustic manners, refusing to even bring me medicine. Only three-year-old Arthur had stayed by my side, his small face earnest. “Little Aunt, get well soon. I like Little Aunt. Little Aunt looks best when she rides a horse!” How could I have imagined then that the little shadow who followed me everywhere would become the sharp thorn in my heart? Lilith Meadowes smiled sweetly, greeting me. This woman, with her gentle movements, carried the grace of a water lily. Yet, her words were laced with provocation. “Miss Hayes, children speak without malice.” I ignored her, turning instead to help Lady Hayes to her feet. “You see, Your Grace and the young Lord are never short of company or care.” Lilith Meadowes was nothing but a courtesan. Yet, with her striking seven-tenths resemblance to my sister, she could effortlessly enter the Duke’s private study, a place I was forbidden to tread. Effortlessly, she stole the affections of father and son. Lady Hayes, now standing, showed no trace of her previous sorrow. Her face was cold. “Are you truly determined to leave?” I stated firmly, “I refuse to spend this entire life trapped within these four walls, revolving around two men who do not love me.” Slap! A sharp, stinging blow landed on my face. “Baseborn creature, you have no decorum.” Lady Hayes’s voice was venomous. “If I hadn’t granted you clemency back then, you would have died in the Sunken Sands! Yet you are so heartless, truly less than a dog raised by the Hayes family.” My birth mother was a Nomad Rider from the Sunken Sands. She was seen by the drunken General Hayes, and after a night of recklessness, I was born. In their eyes, a baseborn daughter was less than an animal. Giving me food, raising me, was a tremendous act of grace. Even after they moved to the Capital, abandoning us in the Sunken Sands without a word, I was expected to be eternally grateful. As her second blow was about to land, I seized Lady Hayes’s hand. “The Hayes family raised me until I was eight years old. I have repaid the Hayes family for those eight years.” I looked at her, my voice unwavering. “We are now utterly quits.” For eight years, I endured Duke Theron’s brutal exertions in the bedchamber. In the Keep, I meticulously managed every detail, big and small. I nurtured Arthur as if he were my own, showering him with all my love and companionship. I had done my utmost, my conscience clear, owing nothing to anyone. The only one I owed, was myself. Convinced that further persuasion was futile, Lady Hayes departed in a huff. I turned, only to meet Duke Theron’s deep, discerning gaze.

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After spending eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars in betrothal payments, I turned myself in for marriage fraud. But then, my housekeeper’s daughter panicked. On May 5th, Sterling Holdings and Blackwood Enterprises were set to unite through a commercial marriage. Yet, I, the supposed bride, was locked in a dark room. By the time I finally found a way to reach the wedding venue, the housekeeper’s daughter had already used my identity to conclude the ceremony. I stormed onto the stage, declaring I was the true Sterling heiress, only to be met with skepticism from every employee of Sterling Holdings. All because Clara Hayes, the housekeeper’s daughter, had been parading around the company as me for half a year. Clara shoved me to the ground. “What are you, the housekeeper’s daughter, doing here, making a scene?” Before I could produce any proof, Clara’s hired security guards dragged me out and threw me onto the street. A car sped by, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day before the wedding. … “I’m getting married tomorrow, everyone! Please come, no need for gifts, just come and celebrate with us!” My heart lurched as I saw Clara Hayes’s message in the company chat. I couldn’t believe it—I had reborn to the day before Clara used my identity to marry into a powerful family. “So the rumors about Sterling Holdings and Blackwood Enterprises uniting are true!” “We’re so lucky to witness a high-society wedding! The young Miss and the Blackwood CEO must be a perfect match!” The company chat buzzed with congratulations. Perhaps realizing I had only just joined the group yesterday, Clara quickly added, “It’s not a commercial alliance at all. It’s just my childhood friend, who’s like a brother.” But Clara’s clarification only made the chat explode further. “I’m obsessed! High-society romance is even sweeter than we imagined!” My palm, tightly gripping my phone, began to sweat. I was about to ask directly in the chat who she was marrying tomorrow when a knock sounded at my door. Clara walked in, a look of apology on her face. “Elara, I’m getting married tomorrow too, so I’m so sorry I can’t attend your wedding.” She looked around the opulent master suite. “May I get ready here, at this villa, for my wedding tomorrow?” In my previous life, Clara had said the exact same words. Clara had lived with her mother at my family’s estate since childhood; she had no home of her own. We grew up together, and I truly considered her my younger sister. I not only let her wear my clothes, but I also personally arranged for her to join Sterling Holdings. So, when she said she was getting married on the same day as me, I didn’t suspect a thing. Instead, I looked at her with envy, wishing her well, hoping she was marrying for love. I not only agreed to let her depart from my family’s villa but also found a golden hairpin from the dowry my mother had prepared for me, giving it to her as a wedding gift! But I never imagined Clara’s greed. Her so-called wedding was a calculated deception: taking advantage of my older brother, the CEO, being away on a business trip, she impersonated me and married directly into the Blackwood family. Because I wasn’t thrilled about the arranged marriage, the Sterling-Blackwood wedding was kept low-key. I hadn’t invited any relatives, which gave Clara the perfect loophole. When I rushed to the wedding venue, they had already completed the ceremony. I desperately tried to prove I was the true Sterling heiress, but to my shock, every employee of Sterling Holdings recognized only Clara. Clara looked at me with feigned sorrow, her voice trembling with accusation. “Elara, even though you’re the housekeeper’s daughter, I’ve always treated you like my sister. Why are you trying to ruin my wedding? What has Sterling Holdings ever done to deserve this from you?!” The security guards dragged me out and tossed me onto the street. I managed to grab my phone, intending to call my brother, but a speeding car struck me down instantly. My fingers dug into my palm, my knuckles white, as I met Clara’s gaze. “Of course not,” I said, my voice cutting. Clara seemed taken aback by my refusal, her face darkening instantly. “Elara, did you see the message in the chat and misunderstand something? I already explained, I’m marrying my childhood friend, who’s like a brother.” “Misunderstand? She’s just jealous of your beauty, afraid you’ll steal her thunder!” The housekeeper, Clara’s mother, shot me a disdainful glance. She then began to lecture me, pretending to be a wise elder. “Elara, a double blessing is a good thing. Don’t be so petty. Both of you will be wearing veils anyway, so Clara won’t outshine you much.” I feigned surprise. “You’re right!” I exclaimed. “If we’re both wearing veils and leaving from the same house, what if they pick up the wrong bride?” I added, my voice dripping with false concern, “It’s absolutely impossible for you to get married from my house now! You two should go find a hotel and decorate it. You probably still have time.” Clara panicked. “Elara, we grew up together! Are you really going to ruin my wedding?” The other servants chimed in. “Clara always let you have your way since you were little. Their mother and daughter have worked for the Sterling family for twenty years, taking care of you. How can you be so heartless?” “Exactly! This is such a big day for her. If you’re not going to help, at least don’t cause trouble! Do you have no conscience?” “I think she’s just scared Clara will marry better than her!” One of them even finished by directly comforting Clara. “Why do we need to consult her anyway? Soon, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling will arrange a beautiful wedding chamber for you, a hundred times grander than hers!” Clara sniffled, her voice choked with manufactured emotion. I scoffed internally, my gaze sweeping coldly over the servants. I used to be too kind, letting them forget who the true mistress of this house was. I grabbed a cup and threw it to the floor. Immediately, the servants’ eyes narrowed, their gazes wary. “Why did you throw that cup? Do you know how hard it is to clean up?” “She has no sympathy! Not even a single hair of Clara’s is worth less than her. If it weren’t for her family background, no man would ever want her.” I walked over and slapped the one who had spoken. “So you do know my family background. And you do know this is the Sterling estate?” My voice was dangerously low. “Let me tell you, your wages come from my brother. If you don’t want to work, then get out now!” But to my utter shock, they didn’t cower. Instead, they laughed. “Playing the high-and-mighty Miss every day, still think you’ve got any real power?” “We’re not leaving. What are you going to do about it?!” “We’re going to give Clara a grand send-off!” “Is there anyone in this entire villa who listens to you? You’re just barking orders!” “Once Clara’s married, we’ll all go work for her. Leaving you alone in this villa, terrified by ghosts every single night, you wretched thing!” No wonder they were so bold. They had already decided to ditch the Sterling family and cling to Clara’s new influence! It made sense. In my previous life, if not for their cooperation, Clara wouldn’t have successfully impersonated me and married into Blackwood Enterprises. I gritted my teeth, holding back a storm of emotions. Clara’s mother glared at me. “What are you looking at? You were given a chance, and you threw it away. Get ready to be despised by the Blackwood family!” “Mom, stop talking to her. The wedding tomorrow is more important.” Clara turned to me, her face feigning regret. “Elara, I didn’t want it to come to this, but you were so petty today. It’s truly disheartening.” “Clara, ignore this useless creature. I’ll go decorate your wedding chamber now.” A group of them surrounded Clara and walked further into the villa. Clara looked back, a triumphant glint in her eyes. I clenched my fists. Even if I called my brother now, it would be too late. His most trusted associates were with him overseas. The company’s employees had probably already pledged their loyalty to Clara. My phone vibrated, an alert for a deposit of eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars. This was the betrothal payment from Blackwood Enterprises. An idea immediately sparked in my mind. I turned and headed to the mall. First, I purchased a property, then I bought a car. After ensuring I had spent every last penny of the eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars, I turned myself in at the police station. The officer looked at me, utterly bewildered. “Say that again. What are you here for?” “I committed marriage fraud. I’m here to confess.” The officer’s brow furrowed. “If you don’t want to marry them, can’t you just discuss calling off the engagement?” But I continued, “The wedding is tomorrow. I’ve already spent the entire betrothal payment, but I don’t want to get married.” “How much was the payment? Negotiate with them. Return the money.” “Eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand.” The police officer fell silent. This wasn’t just a high betrothal payment; it was an astronomical sum. The police insisted I negotiate with the groom’s family. I’d heard that Julian Blackwood, my intended fiancé, wasn’t known for his patience. Trembling, I took the phone from the officer. Surprisingly, the person on the other end didn’t sound angry. But it made sense. It was a commercial alliance, and we hadn’t even met. Plus, the wedding hadn’t been widely publicized, so the impact on Blackwood Enterprises wouldn’t be significant. “Are you certain you don’t wish to marry me?” the man’s voice came through the receiver. I responded softly, “Yes.” “Then let’s call off the engagement.” Through police mediation, I was required to return the eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollar betrothal payment to Blackwood Enterprises’ account by noon tomorrow. Otherwise, Blackwood Enterprises would press charges. I nodded, secretly elated. But that night, instead of trying to raise the money, I spent the entire night at a club. The next day, when I returned home, the entire villa was buzzing with joyous activity. The courtyard teemed with people. Not only had all the employees from Sterling Holdings arrived, but so had all of Clara’s and my former classmates. They surrounded Clara, praising her. “Clara has really blossomed. Our class, only Clara has truly made something of herself.” “Yes, we’ll all be relying on Clara for our livelihoods from now on.” The employees also chimed in. “They say CEO Blackwood is aloof and uninterested in women, but our young CEO Clara still managed to get him wrapped around her finger!” “From now on, we really need to stick close to CEO Clara.” Hearing this, I let out a cold laugh. You’re not marrying into Blackwood Enterprises, Clara. Eighty-eight million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand dollars in betrothal payments are waiting for you to return! They were still lavishing praises when someone suddenly spotted me at the entrance. “Elara Sterling, what’s with those dark circles under your eyes? Where were you carousing last night?” “It’s Clara’s wedding day today. Even if you are their housekeeper’s daughter, you shouldn’t look so disheveled.” My gaze landed on Clara. To my surprise, she met my eyes directly and said, “Elara Sterling, you haven’t actually started believing you’re the Sterling heiress, have you?” Her voice rose, laced with contempt. “On my wedding day, are you going to wander around like a stray dog, ruining the ceremony? Can you bear the consequences?!” “What do you mean, ‘I think I’m the Sterling heiress’? This is my home.” The moment the words left my lips, they all burst into laughter. Clara’s little hangers-on from school, in particular, scoffed at me. “Elara Sterling, have you no shame? Your mother is a housekeeper here; that’s why you get to live in the villa. Clara, in her kindness, always prepared a share of everything good for you. And now you’re acting like you belong here.” He laughed. “We’ve all known Clara for years. Who doesn’t know she’s CEO Sterling’s only sister?” The Sterling Holdings employees also said they had never seen me at the company. Clara’s lackey wore a knowing smirk. “Clara arranged for many classmates to work at Sterling Holdings. So, this stray dog didn’t get a position, and that’s why she’s barking here.” “You might bark well, but Clara only managed to get you a job with a three-thousand-dollar monthly salary.” The moment I said that, the enraged woman slapped me across the face. My cheek instantly reddened and swelled. I gritted my teeth and glared at Clara’s lackey. “I’m warning you. I’m getting married today.” My voice was tight with suppressed fury. “If you dare lay a hand on me, Blackwood Enterprises will make sure you suffer!” “Still dreaming, are we? Drank too much last night and didn’t wake up?” “Need a cold shower to sober you up?” They started to approach with a basin of cold water. I tried to dodge, but two people grabbed my arms. The cold water poured over my head, its icy chill making my body tremble. Before I could even react, another slap landed on my face. Clara stepped forward, pinching my chin. “Sober now?” Her eyes narrowed. “If not, maybe we can try some props. A knife, a whip, hot tongs… which do you prefer?” Her small lackey already handed her a fruit knife. Clara tapped my face with the fruit knife. “Elara, we grew up together. I wanted to let you off, but you insisted on causing trouble on my wedding day.” Her voice hardened. “The Blackwood family is marrying me, not a useless wretch like you!” Clara’s little lackey kicked my knee. My legs buckled, and I fell directly to the ground. Clara put her foot on my face. “Elara Sterling, you’re just my dog. Now, kowtow to me a hundred times and apologize, and maybe I’ll forgive you.” Blood trickled from my lips as I sneered at her. “Dream on. Clara Hayes, as long as I don’t give my consent, the Blackwood family’s procession will never arrive today!”

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In my previous life, my husband, Arthur Vance, was sixty-two when he was diagnosed with late-stage Alzheimer’s. He transformed from a refined, cultured intellectual into a disheveled old man, prone to outbursts, prone to violent rages, yelling vile obscenities at me. At those times, only a photograph of his first love could calm him. So, our daughter, Lillian, brought Arthur’s first love, Serena Reed, home, telling me to care for her. “Dad only recognizes Aunt Serena now. Just think of it as helping him get better. They’re both so old, what could possibly happen between them?” For Arthur’s sake, I agreed. I served them, fetching their meals, cleaning up after them, bustling about like a live-in housekeeper. I endured this life for three long years, only to be told I had terminal liver cancer. I writhed in agony on my sickbed, but Lillian, busy with work, never once came to visit. In my final moments, I dragged myself home. There, I saw my grandson, Benjamin, holding a cake, shouting to Arthur’s first love, “Happy birthday, Grandma Serena!” And in the place of honor, Arthur’s eyes were clear, his gaze on Serena filled with profound adoration. He said, “I’ll marry you once Elara is gone. She’s had me for all these years, I owe her nothing. The rest of my life, I only want to make it up to you.” There was no Alzheimer’s. It was all a cruel deception, and I was merely their unwitting accomplice, their live-in maid. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lillian brought Serena home for a grand welcome dinner. 1 On the spinning lazy Susan, five large crabs lay piled. By the time it reached my spot, they were gone. My husband, Arthur, wore an unnatural smile, his movements clumsy as he meticulously shelled a crab for Serena. My daughter, Lillian, solicitously introduced the restaurant’s signature dishes to Serena, asking if she wished for anything else. From start to finish, no one noticed the empty plate before me. No one asked what I wanted to eat. This feeling of being overlooked, of being treated as invisible, I had experienced it countless times in my previous life. Arthur and I had been married for forty years. When he was sixty-two, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I dedicated myself to caring for him, yet he frequently left me bruised and battered. My eyes were perpetually shadowed, my face swollen, the backs of my hands covered in scratches. Arthur’s hateful words during his fits of rage were like stale garbage, reeking of putrefaction. One of Alzheimer’s symptoms is memory loss. Simply put, Arthur forgot me. It was only by showing him a photograph of his first love that I could avoid his wrath. How ironic. My husband, afflicted with a disease, forgot me, his wife, but remembered another woman. Lillian suggested bringing Arthur’s first love, Serena Reed, home, ostensibly to aid his recovery. So, I found myself caring for the ailing Arthur while also serving the perfectly healthy Serena. During the most grueling period, I wasted away from a hundred and twenty pounds to a mere ninety. If I dared to complain about the hardship, Lillian would point to Arthur, who was eerily calm around Serena, and retort, “Why doesn’t Dad cry or make a fuss when Aunt Serena is around? Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough?” I endured that life for three agonizing years, through over a thousand days and nights. In the end, I withered away from disease, from terminal liver cancer, beyond all medical help. “Mom, what are you spacing out for? Hurry up and bring the dishes!” Lillian’s voice snapped me out of my memories. I looked up. The embarrassed waiter stood beside me, tray in hand, quickly saying there was no need. Lillian, however, waved him off with a dismissive air, grandly pointing at me. “She sits by the door so it’s easy for her to serve the dishes. It’s always been that way.” She then turned her gaze back to me. “Mom, hurry up! The waiter’s arms must be tired.” Suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Their expressions were normal, none of them seemed to find anything wrong with Lillian’s words. I remembered how, in my previous life, when Serena first came to live with us, Lillian’s family had not only thrown a welcome dinner but also arranged a family vacation for Serena. I had spent an entire night packing luggage for everyone. But when it was time to board the train, the tour guide informed us. Lillian had purchased five tickets, and all the activities were for five people. But there were six of us, and it was too late to buy an additional ticket. The group discussed it, and finally, they told me, “Mom, we’re going to the beach this time. It’s not good for your joints. You should stay home.” I, along with my packed luggage, was left standing at the train station entrance. This wasn’t an isolated incident. I was always the one left behind. The waiter placed a soup tureen on the lazy Susan and discreetly withdrew. Lillian, still annoyed by my earlier reaction, pressed on. “Mom, what’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you serve the dishes when I told you to? You’re sitting by the door precisely for that reason.” Without a word, I filled my small bowl with soup and flung it, with deliberate aim, at Lillian. 2 The scalding soup made Lillian shriek. She sprang to her feet, frantically shaking her clothes. “What are you doing! Are you insane?!” Everyone was stunned by the scene, staring at me in disbelief. I calmly sat back down, watching her hysterical reaction. “I’m educating a disloyal daughter. What’s the matter?” Lillian started to retort, but my son-in-law tugged her arm, making her sit. Serena spoke, her voice laced with disapproval. “Elara, there’s no need for such clear boundaries between family. Why quarrel with a child?” Arthur, who had been eerily quiet, suddenly began to hurl rice at me. It splattered all over me, the soup-soaked grains leaving ugly stains on my clothes. One, two, three times. I abruptly stood up, dumped the remaining rice into the hot soup, and placed the tureen directly in front of Arthur. “You like playing, don’t you? Play with this. It’s even more fun with water.” Arthur’s motion to throw something else visibly froze, his eyes wide with fear. The atmosphere grew silent once more. Serena immediately shielded Arthur. “Elara, that soup is scalding! What if you scalded Arthur?” Lillian pushed me away, clearly terrified I might do something else. “Yes, Mom! You scared Dad!” I looked impassively at Arthur’s feigned dementia. In truth, his acting was terrible. Yet, in my previous life, how had I been fooled for so long? “His condition fluctuates. The medication he’s on must not be effective. I’ll make an appointment with the chief physician at the city’s top hospital to get him re-evaluated.” “I object!” Lillian blurted out without thinking. “Dad’s already so old. Constantly moving him around for different doctors isn’t good for his health.” “I’ve made my decision. No one’s objection will change it.” I looked at my panicked daughter, at the subtly uneasy Serena, and at Arthur, who was still feigning confusion beside her. So, they were afraid. After Arthur was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I had resolved to care for him for the rest of my life. Even when he lashed out with fists and feet, I never flinched. I saw him as my responsibility. But it was only at the last moment of my life that I discovered it had all been a lie. I was the sole prey in their cruel game. My daughter, Lillian, knew everything, yet shamelessly helped them deceive me. Only I remained in the dark, living tirelessly for their benefit, like a mere servant. This time, I’d watch them struggle to keep up their act! The welcome dinner ended in disarray. Back at home, Lillian poured water for Serena, then for Arthur, but none for me. She glanced towards the guest room. “Mom, what’s going on? Didn’t I tell you to clean it earlier? Aunt Serena is moving in today.” I replied, my voice cool. “Whoever invited her cleans it. Lillian, I am not a housekeeper.” Lillian choked on her words. Beside her, Serena offered a serene smile. “Lillian, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t look dirty at all. It’s perfectly habitable.” I patted my knees and stood up, offering Lillian a smirk. “See? It’s perfectly habitable. You’re just making a mountain out of a molehill.” I turned and walked into the master bedroom. This small, eighty-eight-square-meter apartment was assigned to me by the factory where I worked. Arthur’s university had allotted him a much larger apartment, which he had instead given to Serena. Our old apartment had three rooms. Arthur and I each had one, and the third was a guest room. In my previous life, when Serena moved in, Lillian had demanded I clean the master bedroom thoroughly. I had complied. But Serena insisted the bed frame be dismantled and washed piece by piece. The cabinets had to be wiped with a damp cloth, then again with a dry one. The new curtains, the drinking glasses, the bathmat by the bathroom door—if anything wasn’t to her liking, it had to be replaced. I cleaned and cleaned, again and again, yet no one ever asked if I was tired. The next day, I was woken by the sounds of crashing. Arthur, in a “fit,” had thrown pots and pans all over the kitchen. Dark liquid splattered the walls, and the smell of soy sauce permeated the air. The entire living room was almost impassable. Serena, standing in the only clean corner, looked at me, her gaze pleading. “Elara, Arthur is having a fit. I can’t control him… I’ll take him to Lillian’s house later. Can you clean up the apartment?” In my previous life, I would have rushed forward to soothe Arthur and calm his “fit.” But now, I calmly watched Arthur’s performance, making no move. “The cleaning service’s number is on the table. If you’re not too busy, just call them. They’ll be here soon.” I refused without hesitation and went to the bathroom to wash up. When I emerged, Arthur and Serena had already left, leaving behind a chaotic mess. I was unconcerned. I grabbed my bag and left, heading straight for the hospital. In my previous life, during Arthur’s third year of feigned illness, I had collapsed at home from severe back pain. After being rushed to the hospital, I was told I had terminal liver cancer and only a month left to live. Now, reborn, how could I allow my body to deteriorate like that again? After receiving my lab results, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only mild hepatitis. This time, I would not die such a miserable death as I had in my previous life. 3 Lillian called me over a dozen times. I didn’t answer. After leaving the hospital, I immediately rushed to another location, to find a suitable place for Arthur’s future. As dusk settled, I returned home. The once chaotic living room was spotless, the air filled with a fresh lemon scent. That saying was indeed true: housework is always the job of those who can’t stand the mess. Arthur sat on the sofa, holding Benjamin, watching television. Lillian, peeling peanuts for Serena, laughed and chatted animatedly. A perfect picture of a happy, harmonious family. I averted my gaze and calmly walked towards my bedroom. Lillian called out to me, her tone displeased. “Mom, I called you so many times, why didn’t you answer? You ran out without even cleaning up the house. What old woman is as idle as you?” She then added, “Serena and I took Dad for a check-up today. The report is here. The doctor said all of Dad’s changes are normal; it’s just how the disease is. You just need to have more patience.” I glanced at the medical report. The doctor’s signature at the bottom made it look legitimate. If I hadn’t already known their deception from my previous life, I might not have been able to tell the truth from the lie. I threw the report onto the table. “Ignoring a top-tier hospital, dragging your father around to various clinics—what were you thinking?” Before Lillian could speak, I pushed open my bedroom door and entered. I instinctively glanced at the wardrobe, noticing that it had clearly been disturbed. My heart sank. Something was missing. I stormed out of the room and confronted Arthur. “Give me back what you took!” “Mom, what are you doing? Benny wants to watch TV. Get out of the way!” Lillian frowned, yelling loudly. I ignored her, my gaze fixed on Arthur and Serena. In my previous life, when I was gravely ill and immobile, Serena wore my lost family heirloom, claiming it was her own family treasure. She became an online sensation through it, scamming people out of huge sums of money. I had pointed to the pin, insisting it was mine. But no one believed me. I knew Arthur had taken it; he had given it to Serena. The first thing I did after being reborn was contact a local historical society. Tomorrow was our scheduled meeting. But I never imagined they would act so quickly. I forced myself to remain calm. “Arthur Vance, give me back my property, or I’ll call the police right now.” Arthur clutched his ears, hiding behind Serena, muttering incoherently. “Tiger woman hitting people! Tiger woman hitting people!” Anyone could see he was terrified of me. Serena, her eyes filled with feigned concern, hugged him tightly. Lillian, meanwhile, glared at me, infuriated. “Mom, is this how you usually treat Dad? Look how scared you’ve made him!” “Shut up!” I roared, unable to contain myself. Lillian stared at me, stunned. “Arthur Vance!” I yelled. “I’m not joking with you. If you don’t give it back, I’ll call the police immediately!” Serena’s heavily made-up face visibly paled. “Elara, let’s not involve the police before we understand the situation, alright?” I pulled out my phone and, right in front of them, dialed the emergency number. But before the call connected, a sharp pain shot through my forehead. Blood blurred my phone screen, and the glass I had been holding shattered on the floor. I clutched my head and stumbled to the ground, vaguely seeing Arthur’s motion as he threw the glass. Lillian, clutching Benjamin, hid to the side, shouting from a distance, “Mom, Mom, are you alright?”

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1 Daniel, desperate to escape with me, had agreed to have children with his childhood sweetheart, Serena, to secure his family’s lineage. After their first son, Leo, was born, he claimed the boy was too young to be without a father and asked me to wait until Leo turned three. Three years passed. Then he announced his family wanted a daughter, to complete their legacy, and begged for a little more time. I waited and waited, through 1,460 sunrises and sunsets over Mount Cinderpeak. Just when I thought we could finally leave, I found myself unexpectedly pregnant with his child. I stood before Daniel, my hiking pack slung over my shoulder, the ultrasound report clutched in my hand. But he held Serena close, his voice strained with feigned reluctance. “Grandfather and Grandmother want a third grandchild, Elara. Can’t you just wait a little longer?” The very next day, a searing pain tore through my abdomen, and I tumbled down the stairs, miscarrying his child. In the fading moments of my consciousness, Daniel loomed over me, his gaze chillingly distant. “Elara,” he said, his voice flat, “you shouldn’t have gotten pregnant with my child.” Tears streamed down my face, my heart turning to stone. It was time to leave, and this time, alone. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Caldwell heir’s gold-digging mistress, the one who just wouldn’t leave,” a voice sneered. “Can you believe she actually dared to get pregnant? As if the Caldwells would ever let her carry a child.” “Look at her now, karma’s a bitch, isn’t it? The Caldwells specifically instructed the staff during the procedure—no pain relief. They wanted it to be unforgettable.” “Her womb’s been ravaged. Let’s see her try to carry any child after that. Just serves her right.” My eyes fluttered open. I tried to push myself up, but a searing, drilling pain shot through my abdomen. At my gasp of pain, the two nurses by the bed instantly fell silent, but the disdain in their eyes remained starkly visible. Thankfully, I’d grown accustomed to their stinging gazes. I turned my head, my voice raspy. “How long can I stay here?” The plumper nurse’s tone was thick with barely concealed mockery: “Miss Elara, you’re free to check out now. But of course, you can stay as long as you wish. We’ll be delighted to serve you.” With a dismissive sniff, she pulled the other nurse away, their snickering whispers echoing down the hall. “Oh, look at her, all red-eyed and playing the victim. Who’s she trying to impress? Daniel Caldwell? Please. He didn’t even show up when she was miscarrying. What makes her think he’d come now? She must be completely delusional.” I lowered my gaze, my hand drifting to my once again flat abdomen. A bitter smile touched my lips. They had it all wrong. I wasn’t waiting for Daniel. I was just trying to avoid these next few days. These were the days of Serena’s ovulation cycle. Every month, during this time, they became inseparable, flaunting their passion as if no one else existed. Each time, their unrestrained murmurs of affection felt like a thousand knives twisting in my gut, leaving me hollowed out and bleeding. Yet, I was forbidden from saying a word. Sure enough, ten days later, when I pushed open the front door, my face pale and my body weak, they were on the sofa, locked in a post-coital embrace. Daniel was still lingering, kissing her neck, his hand restlessly exploring. It was Serena who noticed me first. She feigned a coy retreat, nestling deeper into him with a playful whimper. “Wait, Daniel,” she purred, “the pregnancy test results should be ready, shouldn’t they?” She picked up the test stick from the table, her eyes widening, then she practically bounced with glee. “Two lines! I’m pregnant with our third!” Then she pouted, a delicate tap to Daniel’s chest. “Oh no, you were so rough just now! What if you hurt our little ‘Three’? You big meanie!” Daniel pulled her into a doting embrace, his hand tenderly caressing Serena’s still-flat stomach. “Never,” he murmured, his eyes full of affection. “Daddy will be gentle from now on. We wouldn’t want to scare little ‘Three,’ would we?” His gaze was brimming with the joy and tenderness of a man about to become a father once more. A stark contrast to the chilling indifference in his eyes when he’d learned I was pregnant. Even though I’d known what to expect, my heart still twisted with a sharp, familiar pang. Finally, Daniel noticed me standing frozen in the doorway. He stiffened, instinctively putting a subtle distance between himself and Serena. His voice softened, tinged with a carefully constructed apology and regret. “Elara, you heard? We… we had no choice. Grandfather says the Caldwell Group’s affairs are too vast, and two children simply aren’t enough to secure its future. A third heir is needed for stability.” “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have put Serena through this, especially right after her second postpartum period, to try for another.” He reached out, tenderly brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Serena’s forehead, completely oblivious to my ashen face. Serena, her cheeks flushed, buried herself in his arms, playfully chiding, “It’s fine, Daniel. I quite enjoyed it, actually. I loved it.” Watching them ready to melt into another display of affection, a tidal wave of bitter resentment surged within me. I placed a hand on my still-empty belly, cutting through their moment. “Then why wasn’t my child enough?” Daniel’s gaze immediately clouded with a complex mix of emotions, his brow furrowing. “Elara, what are you talking about?” I offered a mirthless laugh, pushing the question again. “Daniel Caldwell, wasn’t my child, our child, a valid heir to the Caldwell family name?” Before he could answer, a toy car inexplicably flew from upstairs, striking me squarely on the forehead. An angry, childish voice immediately followed. “No! No! You vixen! Anything you have would be a mongrel! You’re not allowed to steal our family’s money!” I reeled back a few steps, stumbling. Just as I managed to regain my footing, a small boy, running at full speed, slammed directly into me, sending me sprawling. 2 It was Leo, Daniel and Serena’s three-year-old eldest son. “Bitch! Bitch! How dare you come back! I won’t let you set foot in my house again! Get out!” He started pummeling my midsection with his tiny fists. My womb, already ravaged by the brutal medical procedure, throbbed with agony at even the slightest touch. I clutched my stomach, trembling uncontrollably. Daniel, seeing the beads of cold sweat rolling down my forehead, quickly pulled his son away. “Leo, how dare you speak to Aunt Elara like that? Apologize!” But the hand he’d raised was caught by Serena. She stepped between us, her lips trembling in a wounded pout. “Daniel, why are you so harsh on the child? Have you forgotten what you promised me?” “Besides, how strong can a little child be…?” Serena trailed off, casting a glance of pure disgust at me. The tenderness in Daniel’s expression slowly faded, replaced by disappointment. He turned to me, his voice tinged with weary resignation. “Elara, you’re an adult. Why are you making such a fuss over a child, and putting on a show?” “And besides, you were the one who spoke out of turn. Don’t do it again.” I bit down on my trembling lip. Seeing that I had no intention of backing down, Daniel’s face hardened. He pushed me towards the nursery. “Alright, alright, Elara, go look after Lily.” “You’ve been her caregiver since birth. She’s closer to you than to Serena. When she cries, no one else can soothe her; it’s exhausting.” I met his gaze stubbornly, wrenching my arm free. “Daniel Caldwell, I told you I’m not doing this anymore. I am not your nanny.” As if on cue, Mrs. Jenkins, the Caldwell family’s elderly housekeeper, rushed out, a whirlwind of disapproval, and forcibly thrust Daniel’s newborn daughter, Lily, into my arms. “Elara? Oh, thank goodness you’re back! Just a little miscarriage, why did you have to stay in the hospital for so long? So delicate!” “Go on, go on, take her! My old bones have been worn to dust these past few days. Alright, she’s back with her rightful owner. You take care of her properly now, hear?” Then, she herded Daniel, Serena, and Leo towards the door. “Mr. Caldwell, Miss Montgomery, what are you dawdling for? Haven’t you forgotten you’re taking Leo to the family estate for dinner tonight? Look at the time! Come on, move it!” I made to hand the baby back, but Mrs. Jenkins, solid as a brick wall, blocked my path, ushering Daniel away. Her eyebrows shot up, forming sharp, menacing angles like twin blades. “What do you think you’re doing?! In my day, you’d be nothing but a common servant! Do you really think a few nights in bed with the master makes you the lady of the house? Know your place!” A disgusted “Pah!” escaped her lips, and the door slammed shut with a resounding thud, the sound echoing the finality of her contempt. Only the baby’s deafening cries remained, threatening to shatter my eardrums, my very heart. I stared blankly at the child in my arms, utterly bewildered by how my life had spiraled into this. My unfocused gaze suddenly settled on the expansive photo wall in the living room. Only then did I realize that, at some point I couldn’t pinpoint, the candid photos of Daniel and me hiking through snow-capped mountains, the scenic shots of our adventures, had slowly, systematically been replaced by family portraits of him, Serena, and their son. There was no trace of me left. Only a single, small photograph of a mountain remained. It was Mount Cinderpeak, the place where Daniel and I had fallen in love, and where our wedding was supposed to have been. The night before we were to leave, Daniel’s grandparents, disgusted by my common background, demanded he marry Miss Serena Montgomery instead. Daniel had stormed out of the house, already with me in Willow Creek, ready to venture into the mountains. But a frantic call from the hospital’s ICU unit pulled him back. When he reappeared before me, his face was shadowed by stubble, his eyes bloodshot. He collapsed to his knees, a raw sound escaping him. “Elara, I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “Grandfather and Grandmother raised me since childhood. I can’t let them… I can’t let them die, but I can’t lose you either!” “I… I made a deal. If I just have one grandchild with Serena, they’ll let me go. They’ll set me free.” “Elara, please, don’t be angry, don’t leave me. Serena is just… a means to an end. You’re the one I truly love! Please, just endure this for ten months, okay?” The first time, Daniel cried into my shoulder, then abruptly pulled away at the last moment, stumbling into Serena’s room. He was back in mine within a minute. The second time, he inexplicably stayed half an hour longer. The third time, he stayed the night. The fourth, the fifth… I withered, waiting in my room until dawn, but he never returned. I waited for their first child, then their second, waited through 1,460 sunrises and sunsets over Mount Cinderpeak. But Daniel and Serena only grew closer, more and more like a real couple. And I became their housekeeper and nanny. It wasn’t that I hadn’t cried, hadn’t argued, hadn’t pleaded. Daniel would always soothe me, only to drift back to Serena’s side moments later. Now, their third child was on the way. I should have seen it clearly by now. It was time to leave. I sat there, utterly lost, until late into the night. Finally, Daniel’s family returned, their laughter echoing through the hall. The moment they opened the door, they froze. 3 His daughter lay on the sofa where I’d left her, cried out, and utterly weak. The photographs from the wall lay shredded into a million pieces. “Elara Reynolds! Didn’t I tell you to look after my daughter? Why isn’t she making a sound?! Are you trying to kill her?!” Daniel lunged, his hand closing around my throat, his face twisted into a mask of fury. Serena anxiously scooped up the child and thrust her directly into my arms. “Elara Reynolds! Just because you lost your baby, you can’t take it out on my daughter!” “Now, go back and feed her and change her diaper!” I remained impassive, even managing a faint smile. “I’ve told you already. I’m not your nanny anymore. Don’t you understand?” Serena flinched, then stomped her foot in exasperation, tears welling in her eyes and trickling down her cheeks. “Daniel, look at her! I told you she resented me! Do you know how hard these past few years have been for me? Bearing three children without a title, just to fulfill your love story!” “And in the end, I’m the villain!” Daniel’s jaw tightened, and he instantly intensified his grip on my throat, his eyes blazing with savage rage. “Elara Reynolds, a woman giving birth is like stepping into the gates of hell! Serena has done it twice, and now she’s about to do it a third time—all for you!” But if he’d just open his eyes, he’d see that Serena, whom he claimed had walked through hell’s gates twice, was still slender and graceful, like a young girl. While I, on the other hand, resembled a candle flickering to its end, dark circles stretching from beneath my eyes to the corners of my mouth, all from three months of sleepless nights, tending to her daughter’s every need. And besides, I was never the one who demanded he have children. What right did he have?! My expression, like my heart, was a stagnant pool. But Daniel mistook it for defiance and grew even angrier. “Can’t you just be reasonable for once?! My grandparents’ opinion of you only improved because you took good care of Leo and Lily! Our plan was so close to success, and now this?! What are you trying to do?!” “Don’t you want to go to Mount Cinderpeak with me anymore?!” That same old threat. The last vestige of love in my heart finally dissolved, drifting away like smoke. I forced back the tears that my constricted throat was forcing out, and spoke, my voice calm, almost serene. “No, Daniel. I don’t want to go with you anymore.” Daniel’s body stiffened, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. Ignoring Serena’s furious shouts behind him, he scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom. He dropped me onto the bed, then paced the room, a frantic bundle of nervous energy. He fired off questions like a rapid-fire cannon. “Elara Reynolds, what do you mean you don’t want to go to Mount Cinderpeak anymore? Are you abandoning me?” His voice softened only after he saw the angry red marks of his fingers branding my neck. “Elara, what’s gotten into you lately? Is it because of the miscarriage?” “Is it… is it because taking care of Serena’s children has been too much?” “Or is it because I’ve been spending too much time with Serena? Are you angry?” I sat calmly on the bed, my heart overflowing with a bitter realization. Daniel, it seemed, had known everything all along. When I remained silent, Daniel reluctantly reined in his surging frustration. He knelt before me, his expression earnest. “Elara, please, let me explain. First, your baby being… gone, it really is for the best. If you had carried it to term, the Montgomerys would never have agreed. It would have caused so much trouble.” “And asking you to care for the children… it was because you already had experience with Leo, you were so good with him. Serena just isn’t comfortable with strangers in the house, and she only trusts you.” “Serena just had the baby, her body’s still weak. Of course, I need to look after her more.” I watched him speak, my heart chillingly aware of the pervasive sorrow blossoming within me. Perhaps Daniel himself didn’t realize that even as he tried to placate me, every word he uttered still prioritized Serena. My bitter smile, in Daniel’s eyes, was misinterpreted as a sign of capitulation. His eyes lit up. He raised three fingers, repeating the same tired promise. “Elara, just wait a little longer. I, Daniel Caldwell, swear to you, the moment this third child is born, we’ll run away together. No more delays!” Fearing I wouldn’t believe him, he pulled out his phone and immediately booked plane tickets for a year and a half from now. I glanced at the screen, a sardonic question on my lips. “Why a year and a half from now?” Daniel’s brow furrowed, his voice tinged with a hint of reproach. “Elara, I at least have to wait until Serena finishes her postpartum recovery, don’t I? Don’t be so heartless.” The air in the room grew heavy, thick with unspoken words. After a long silence, he sighed, as if conceding defeat, and reluctantly changed the tickets. “Fine, fine! I’ll change it to the day of the due date. The moment the third child is born, I’ll leave with you. Is that good enough?!” His phone buzzed then, a call from Grandfather Caldwell. Our eyes met, and Daniel’s flashed with an inexplicable guilt. I snatched the phone, my fingers swift as lightning, and answered. Grandfather Caldwell’s words, spoken without preamble, utterly blindsided me. “Daniel, I’ve discussed it with the Montgomerys. You and Serena are to register your marriage tomorrow. Don’t want that vixen charming you away again.” 4 “Hello? Did you hear me?!” Daniel frantically tried to cut in. “Grandfather, I’ll talk to you later.” Daniel and Serena were getting married?! The revelation struck me like a lightning bolt. My heart, already numb from countless stabs, still betrayed me, tears shamelessly spilling at the news. “Elara, listen to me,” Daniel stammered, fumbling to wipe away my tears. “Serena and I are just registering our marriage. It means nothing else, don’t overthink this!” I quietly turned my head, pulling away from his desperate attempts. He rushed to explain. “Think about it, Elara. Serena’s carried three of my children. I at least owe her some kind of recognition, don’t I? Even if it’s just for appearances, I can’t let my children be illegitimate, can I?” “Please, just be reasonable, Elara Reynolds.” Reasonable! Always reasonable! I couldn’t take it anymore. I seized a pillow and began pummeling Daniel, a furious onslaught of blows. “You’re marrying Serena, so what does that make me?! The persistent mistress? The gold-digging whore? Or the shameless vixen they all call me?!” “Daniel Caldwell, do you even know what people say about me?!” Before I could finish, the air around Daniel seemed to drop several degrees, thick with his simmering fury. He unleashed a vicious slap across my face. “Elara Reynolds, snap out of it! Do you have any idea what I’ve sacrificed to be with you?!” “My grandparents were almost driven to their graves by me! Can’t you stop being so selfish?!” “Know your place, Elara Reynolds!” I was knocked sideways onto the bed, my mouth instantly filling with the metallic tang of blood. It felt like a cruel jest, mocking my three years of foolish longing. “Daniel Caldwell,” I said, my voice eerily calm, “I know my place now. I’m going to Mount Cinderpeak tonight.” “Elara Reynolds! How can you go when you just miscarried?!” Daniel called after me, but I ignored him, storming into the study. The scene inside made me freeze. My hiking pack, carefully prepared just days ago, was shredded into tattered rags, its contents scattered across the floor. Daniel’s son was clearly the culprit, brandishing a half-broken trekking pole as he raced around the room. “Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! I’m a helicopter! I’m the strongest helicopter!” In his other hand, he clutched a small object. I let out a choked scream. “Give that back to me!” Daniel’s son grinned, a triumphant smirk on his face, and stomped his foot down, crushing the object to bits! “No!” I went berserk. I shoved Daniel’s son to the ground, then collapsed to my knees myself with a thud. With trembling hands, I gathered the shattered pieces, holding them up directly to Daniel’s face, a desperate, broken sob tearing through me. “Daniel Caldwell! This was my mother’s voice recorder! Her only possession she left for me!” “Why are you, your whole family, doing this to me?!” Daniel averted his gaze. He knew. He knew the reason I was so obsessed with trekking was because my mother had been a passionate hiker. Every time she summitted a snow-capped peak, every time she witnessed a breathtaking landscape, she would use that voice recorder to capture her thoughts in that moment, leaving them for me. In the years since her passing, I had endured by constantly visiting the places she’d trekked, listening to those fragments of her voice. But now, there was nothing. My very soul felt as though it had shattered along with it. A thousand emotions—grief, fury, despair—choked in my throat, unable to form words, dissolving into a numb, repeated whisper. “It’s all gone, all gone. I have nothing left, Daniel!” Daniel babbled incoherently, trying to soothe me. “Elara, what’s done is done. Please don’t cry, don’t cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”

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1 The day before my wedding, my best friend, Celeste Rivers, ran over and killed my mother. My fiancé didn’t just stand by; he flaunted his marriage certificate with her. I dragged Celeste to court, disrupting their wedding to demand she pay for her crime, only to be ridiculed by everyone. In my darkest hour, my childhood best friend, Arthur Bennett, publicly proposed to me, swearing he’d be my lifelong anchor. I said yes. I entrusted the entire car accident case to him. He told me Celeste was imprisoned, and I believed him. But three years into our marriage, I accidentally overheard him talking to his lawyer. “Mr. Bennett, was marrying Evelyn Hayes just for a letter of forgiveness? For a mere car accident, why did you have to sacrifice yourself?” “Only by marrying her could I, as a family member, write that letter of forgiveness on Evelyn’s behalf. It was the only way to secure Celeste’s freedom.” “As long as she’s happy overseas, that’s all that matters. As for me… anything is fine.” It turned out the marriage I’d seen as my salvation was nothing but a meticulously crafted deception. That letter of forgiveness, signed with my name, and Celeste’s freedom—those were his true desires. I was the one who needed to leave. In his office, Arthur stared at a photo of Celeste overseas on his computer, a heartbroken, regretful smile playing on his lips. “Three years. Seeing her happy is enough, even if her happiness isn’t something I gave her.” “As for Evelyn… I’ve spent the rest of my life making amends to her. This matter, it’s behind us.” The company’s legal counsel was fuming but utterly powerless against him. “Mr. Bennett, the company has finally started to thrive. How can you joke about a murder case like this? If this gets out to our competitors, not just you, but all of Bennett family’s assets could be forfeit!” “It’s a fact that Miss Rivers committed premeditated murder. Why are you getting mixed up in this mess? She doesn’t even love you!” Arthur’s face hardened, his voice chilling. “Enough. I said not to bring this up again. I don’t believe Celeste intentionally killed her. It must have been an accident. I handled Mrs. Hayes’s funeral arrangements, which was a proper closure for the Hayes family.” “If it means saving her, forget a company, I’d even give my life!” The lawyer grew agitated. “What about Miss Hayes? She’ll find out about this eventually. The moment she goes to visit Celeste in prison, everything you’ve planned will collapse!” “You used her name to free the person who murdered her mother. What will she do then?” Arthur fell silent for a moment, then reached for a cigarette and lit it. “Then she’ll never know. Three years have passed. Celeste should be out of prison soon.” “Go make the arrangements. And remember, don’t let Evelyn find out.” “Mr. Bennett,” the lawyer warned, his voice grave. “As your legal counsel, let me remind you: the long arm of the law misses nothing. What you’ve done will leave its mark. To protect a murderer, at the cost of harming an innocent person… if Miss Hayes ever finds out, you’ll be completely ruined!” Tears streamed down my chin. My body trembled so violently I could barely hold the takeout box. Footsteps drew closer. I quickly scurried into the stairwell, my heart pounding. So, my mother’s fatal car accident had never even been formally investigated. And Celeste, far from being imprisoned to face justice, was living a carefree life overseas. All of it, orchestrated by the husband I loved with all my heart. His humble bowing, his quiet endurance, his every concession—all were for the salvation of the woman he truly loved. For three years, I had lived inside the meticulously woven tapestry of his lies. I thought I was living a fairytale, but it was a living hell. The irony was crushing. I stumbled down the stairs and out of the building, collapsing onto the curb outside the company. 2 I waited for five agonizing hours. The last flicker of light in the building winked out. Finally, his silhouette appeared. The moment he saw me, his expression softened, and he gently took my hand, his voice laced with concern. “Why didn’t you come in? How long have you been waiting?” “Not long, just arrived. I know you’ve been busy lately, so I brought you some homemade porridge. Your assistant said you were in a meeting, so I left.” “Don’t do this again, darling. You’re not well; I’d be heartbroken if you overtired yourself.” With that, he pulled me into his embrace and kissed my forehead. His touch was as tender and affectionate as always. But I felt nothing. His warmth no longer reached me. It was shocking, how far one person would go for another. He guided me into the passenger seat, then casually brought up a topic. “Oh, by the way, Celeste is getting out soon. You two used to be close, and she’s already served her time. Besides, Bennett Holdings has a lot of ongoing projects with the Thorne family now, so maybe—” “It’s fine. It’s all in the past. I won’t go after her. Don’t worry.” He let out a visible sigh of relief, a soft smile touching his lips. “Thank you, my love, for understanding. Having you is truly a blessing.” I turned my head, gazing out at the passing scenery, tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks. Back home, while he showered, I opened his laptop. The password was Celeste’s birthday. The desktop wallpaper was a sweeping view of the Maldives. That’s where Celeste had lived for the past three years. I logged into his social media. His profile’s background image was a photo of him and Celeste. His follower list contained only one person. I clicked on it. My vision was flooded with photos of Celeste and snippets of her life overseas. She wore new jewelry from brands under Bennett Holdings. Her shawl was from Bennett Holdings’ latest campaign. Even the villa she’d tagged was one of Bennett Holdings’ overseas hotel properties. This hotel, I noted, had been established exactly three years ago. It was Bennett’s only international project. My hand trembled as I clicked on his transfer history. The recipient was always Celeste. A million a month, for three years, without fail. I scrolled through each entry, my heart chilling with every passing line. I remembered his social media status, a single, cryptic word. Wait. I’d asked him once what it meant. He’d simply shrugged it off, saying it was something he’d written long ago. But now, I understood. Three years of marriage, and apart from the wedding photo on the wall, we had no other pictures together. No matter how much I cried or pleaded, he’d always say we saw each other every day, so there was no need to capture it. Only now did I realize it wasn’t that there was no need; it was that I was not a necessity to him. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, closing the laptop. I simply bought a plane ticket for three days later, overseas. And applied to cancel all my official documents. Three days to say goodbye to three years. It felt like enough. I set the countdown as my phone wallpaper, a constant reminder. When he emerged from the bathroom, I was already in bed. Assuming I was asleep, he remained silent. I spent the entire night wide awake. At dawn, I got up to freshen up. My phone rang. Arthur’s voice, laced with confusion, followed immediately. “Evelyn, what documents did you cancel?” I quickly snatched my phone, explaining casually, “Nothing much. My ID expired, so I booked an appointment to renew it.” “Don’t you have a project meeting today? Go on, get busy.” He didn’t think much of it, simply pulling me into a tender embrace, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. “Thank you, my love. Marrying a wife as wonderful as you is truly my blessing.” I simply smiled, saying nothing. 3 “As a reward, how about your husband gives you a big gift today?” he purred. “Alright. I’ll be home waiting.” He really pulled out all the stops to keep me from bothering Celeste. This three-year charade, it was time for it to end. The moment he stepped out the door, I went to cancel my documents. After filling out the application, I went to see a lawyer. When I asked about the letter of forgiveness, the lawyer simply stated that a letter of forgiveness from a family member carried legal weight. It was already established and irrevocable. I didn’t ask further, instead asking him to print two copies of a divorce agreement for me. With the agreement in hand, I headed to Arthur’s company. As soon as I entered, I heard employees whispering. “Is that Mrs. Bennett? I heard she just returned from overseas. That aura… no wonder she enchanted Mr. Bennett; even I, a woman, can’t resist it!” “Must be. That bag she’s carrying is a new Hermès, one of only ten worldwide. I’ve seen Mr. Bennett picking out bags a few times; I can’t believe he bought even this for her. So sweet…” “That overseas hotel, it wasn’t built for her, was it? I heard they were childhood sweethearts. Even a rom-com wouldn’t dare write a plot like that!” On the top floor, I stood at the office door. Familiar voices drifted out. “These past three years, you… how have you been?” “Oh, just wonderful. Every day, I wake up to the ocean, and the air is filled with freedom. I haven’t even thanked you properly. If it weren’t for you, I’d have already—” “Don’t say such things. It’s all in the past. I believe you didn’t mean to hurt anyone. My help was also for my own sake.” Celeste’s laughter tinkled like wind chimes. “You, you’re still the same after all these years. If Evelyn ever found out you secretly helped me, she’d surely make a huge scene.” “This bag is too extravagant; I can’t accept it. You should give it to Evelyn instead. I’m afraid if I take it, she’ll sue me again.” Celeste had always been like this: taking every advantage while feigning generosity, blaming me for everything. Three years ago, at the wedding. I had publicly exposed her as a killer, alienating myself from her and Julian Thorne completely. Yet, all the guests present had sided with her, accusing me of being unreasonable. I had become a laughingstock. Arthur’s appearance had been my only salvation. But now, he was the one who had pushed me into this abyss. His assistant, rushing to deliver a contract, burst through the door, nearly colliding with me. Arthur’s eyes flickered with surprise. “Evelyn? When did you get here? Don’t get the wrong idea; Celeste just dropped by to catch up, nothing else…” “Evelyn, long time no see.” Celeste rose, dressed in a bespoke piece from Bennett Holdings’ latest collection. Her face was flushed with health, her skin flawless. She looked anything but the picture of someone who had just been released from prison. I smiled, nodding, swallowing my rising resentment. “It’s fine. I was just in the area, thought I’d drop by. Since you’re busy, I’ll head back now.” Arthur, thinking I was angry, chased after me, explaining for quite a while. “Don’t be like this, my love. I was just asking her how she was doing in prison. After all, she’s a woman; it must have been tough in there…” “It’s been three years. All grudges should be laid to rest by now, shouldn’t they? Didn’t you say it was all in the past?” Watching his desperate display, I simply smiled. To free Celeste, he had sacrificed his own marriage, putting on a show for me. Now that Celeste was safe and sound, who was he trying to impress? “Yes, it’s in the past. Don’t worry. I’m not unreasonable; I keep my word.” 4 “You stay busy. I’ll be home waiting for you, like a good wife.” He visibly relaxed, instructing his assistant to personally escort me downstairs. Before I left, he specifically reminded me about the Thorne family’s banquet the following evening. It was a celebration of Celeste’s return. As a CEO, he had his reputation to uphold. Publicly, they’d claimed Celeste was studying abroad, never mentioning her imprisonment. I nodded, saying I understood. I wouldn’t cause a scene at the banquet. Only then did he seem relieved enough to let me go. Back home, I took down the wedding photos from the wall and meticulously shredded them with scissors. Then, I tossed them into the trash. That night, Arthur didn’t come home. But Celeste logged back into her social media account. And posted an update for the first time in ages. A candlelit dinner for two. The man’s face wasn’t visible, only a glimpse of his wrist. The spot where a wedding ring should have been was conspicuously bare, but the skin tone difference revealed where it once rested. It was Arthur. Just as she’d hoped, I liked the post. I turned off my phone and packed my bags. The next morning, Arthur’s assistant delivered a dress. I unwrapped it and saw it was an outdated design from a previous season. That evening, when I arrived at the banquet hall, Julian Thorne had just finished his speech. He announced that Celeste would be in charge of all the company’s projects with Bennett Holdings. A wave of envy rippled through the guests. They praised Celeste’s good fortune, how both her childhood sweethearts held her in the highest regard. The moment I appeared, conversations abruptly ceased. Eyes turned to me, expressions of expectant amusement. Arthur was busy with socializing, paying me no mind. Celeste, acting as hostess, led me to the terrace upstairs. Once we were alone, she dropped her charade, her true nature laid bare. Her expression was a cocktail of sarcasm and venom. “Evelyn Hayes, after all these years, you’re still so useless.” “I’ve been overseas for the past three years, and thanks to your husband, I’ve had a wonderful time, you wouldn’t believe it. You don’t actually think Arthur married you out of love, do you? Truth be told, if you hadn’t sued me, he wouldn’t have given you a second glance!” “Evelyn Hayes, you’re nothing but a joke!” Fury ignited within me. I couldn’t hold back any longer and slapped her across the face. She sneered, a cold smile touching her lips, and quickly stumbled back a few steps. Then, she tumbled down the stairs. A collective gasp, then screams, erupted from the main hall. Arthur was there in an instant, rushing to her, scooping her into his arms. He looked up at me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Evelyn Hayes, what are you doing? Are you insane?!” “Celeste was kindly hosting you, how dare you push her? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t pursue the matter from back then? What’s with this scene today?!” My expression was cold, my voice devoid of emotion. “Me causing a scene?” “Arthur Bennett, don’t you think you owe me an explanation for what happened that day?” His brow furrowed, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “An explanation for what? Hasn’t Celeste already apologized to you for the past three years? What more do you want?” “One thing has nothing to do with the other. No matter what happened before, it doesn’t justify you laying hands on her today!” “Evelyn Hayes, apologize to her right now!” Before I could speak, Celeste was already weeping in his arms, her voice choked with feigned sorrow. “Please… please don’t be hard on Evelyn. All the fault, all the mistakes, were mine from back then. I wronged her. Let what happened today be my apology to her…” “Since she hates me so much, let’s… let’s not contact each other anymore. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” My nails bit fiercely into my palms, tiny drops of blood welling up. Watching their silhouettes, entwined, as they walked away, I knew it was truly over for us.

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