While my wife, Hathaway, was popping champagne with her male best friend at her company, I was dragging my suitcase out the door, leaving behind a signed divorce agreement. Before I left, I didn’t forget to post on Twitter: “I’m leaving. The space is all yours now.” Half an hour later, my phone rang. It was her. “James, have you had enough of your little tantrums?!” I couldn’t help but sneer. I don’t want you anymore, Hathaway. I don’t care who you sleep with. And yet, suddenly, she was the one panicking. On my birthday, I drove Hathaway to work. Before she got out of the car, I asked her, “It’s my birthday today. Come home early. I have something important to tell you.” She stayed silent for a long time before finally nodding. Hathaway and I had been married for three years. She was a high-powered corporate executive at a publicly traded company. I was a freelance designer. I took private commissions and made a decent living, but compared to Hathaway, it was pennies. As a man, most would feel insecure having a wife who made so much more. But I never did. I had known Hathaway since I was sixteen. It was love at first sight. She was three years older than me. When I was a freshman in high school, she returned as an outstanding alumna to give a speech. Her elegant, sharp profile on that stage became branded into my memory. After her speech, I wanted to take a picture with her, but the crowd was too thick. I couldn’t get close. In a fit of desperation, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “Hey, Blue Smurf!” She paused, looking back with a smile. I clicked the shutter, capturing that exact moment. I followed her footsteps all the way to Princeton, becoming her junior. It took me three years of chasing her just to get her to agree to date me. If her family hadn’t been pressuring her to get married back then, I would have never stood a chance. Only after we got married did I realize—some hearts are just made of stone. You can never warm them up. Today was my birthday. I had specially ordered a cake and cooked a full dinner, waiting for her to come home. But I waited from six in the evening until nine, and there was no sign of her. I couldn’t help but call her, but it went straight to voicemail. Just as I was about to give up, Harry sent me a video. In the video, Hathaway was laughing, her arm wrapped tightly around his neck. Her colleagues were cheering around them, popping expensive champagne. “James, Hathaway just locked down the massive NICE project. We’re celebrating. Don’t be a party pooper!” Harry’s text shattered the very last piece of hope in my heart. I should have known. Hathaway always put me last. I didn’t reply. I just reheated the food, ate alone, lit the single candle, and blew it out. I made a wish. At sixteen, my wish was to spend the rest of my life with Hathaway. At twenty-six, my wish was to let her go, and finally free myself. I had noticed the strange dynamic between Hathaway and Harry a year ago. He was her “male best friend.” Whenever Hathaway was stressed or tired, Harry was always her first phone call. Whenever she couldn’t crack a tough business case, Harry would step in and save the day. At first, I thought he was just her trusted colleague. But then I noticed the way Harry looked at her. It wasn’t innocent. Their physical touch had crossed the line of normal friendship long ago. And then, I started receiving anonymous texts. My phone was flooded with intimate photos of the two of them. The first time it happened, my heart raced with panic. I confronted Hathaway, but she just looked at me with pure annoyance. “James, it’s just a hug. We are friends. Stop acting so dramatic.” I begged her to keep her distance. I even tried to make her jealous by hugging someone else in front of her. But Hathaway saw right through me. She gave me the silent treatment for a whole week. She used her actions to tell me: threats don’t work on her. After that, I stopped fighting. I just made a silent vow to myself: once I received one hundred photos, I would leave. I hadn’t reached one hundred yet, but I couldn’t take it anymore. Each photo felt like a sharp blade, carving into my flesh until I was bleeding out. By midnight, Hathaway still hadn’t come home. My birthday was officially over. The things I wanted to tell her didn’t matter anymore. I packed my bags, left the divorce papers on the kitchen island, and walked away without looking back. Some things, if you don’t do them now, you never will. The next morning, I took the earliest flight to New York. Aside from escaping, I had one vital thing to do.

“Mr. James, the neurosurgeons in New York are the best in the country. If you go there, you might stand a chance.” That was my doctor’s advice. I had a brain tumor. Lately, I had been passing out frequently. Sometimes, my vision would go completely black. The doctor said the tumor was pressing against my optic nerve, and I would eventually go blind. I didn’t want to die so young, but the disease was progressing faster than expected. I just wanted to buy myself a little more time. As for Hathaway… I was done trying. Right after I landed, Hathaway’s call came through. “James, what is the meaning of this? What kind of game are you playing?!” Her voice was raspy, dripping with anger. I looked up at the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day, and surprisingly, my chest felt lighter. “Hathaway, yesterday was my birthday.” The line went dead silent for a second. Then, she muttered, “I’m sorry. I…” “I know. You landed the NICE account. Congratulations.” My voice was incredibly calm, even to my own ears. “Just sign the papers. I’ll be back in a month to finalize it.” To my surprise, Hathaway didn’t snap. Instead, she said coldly, “Since you’re in a bad mood, go take a vacation. But divorce is out of the question!” “I—” Before I could finish, she hung up on me. I let out a bitter laugh. A second later, a notification popped up on my phone. She had wired a massive amount of money to my account—more than enough for me to live like a king for a month. What a waste. I didn’t have the time to spend it. I went straight to the hospital, checked in, and then took a cab to our old university campus. This was my alma mater. I had followed Hathaway all the way to Princeton and spent four years here. Looking back, it felt like it all happened yesterday. Walking down the familiar tree-lined path, I remembered how I used to stage “accidental” run-ins with her here. Every time, Hathaway would smile faintly and say, “James, that’s the third time we’ve run into each other today. Is there something you want to tell me?” My face would turn bright red. After a long pause, I’d stammer, “Do… do you want to eat steak? I can cook for you!” Hathaway, who was used to expensive flowers and luxury gifts, never expected a boy to offer her a home-cooked meal. One Tomahawk steak was all it took to win her over. Later, when we finally became official, it was also over a dinner table. She wiped her mouth, looked at me, and said, “Want to give us a try?” Suddenly, a sharp, excruciating pain shot through my head. I dropped to my knees on the gravel path! The pain radiated from the back of my skull, and my vision went pitch black. I hurriedly fumbled in my pocket, swallowed two pills, and waited a long time before the darkness receded. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from that same anonymous number. “You think running away will change anything? James, just give up.” This was the first time the sender had texted me actual words instead of just photos. It seemed he was getting desperate too. I let out a soft laugh. I don’t care anymore. I blocked the number, finished my walk around the campus, said my silent goodbyes, and checked into the hospital. For the treatment, they shaved my head. Staring at the pale, sickly man with a bald head in the mirror, a wave of sadness washed over me. But the anonymous harasser wouldn’t stop. He used another number to text me, and before I could block it, he sent a video. It was Hathaway and Harry at a dimly lit lounge. Under the warm lights, they were sitting incredibly close, their fingers intertwined. Their smiles pierced my eyes like hot needles. Hathaway, so this is what you meant by letting me “clear my head.” You just wanted me out of the way so you could have your fun. I took a deep breath. A text popped up: “Just walk away. You don’t deserve her.” Hilarious. I had already walked away, but Hathaway was the one refusing to let go. Of course. She was a high-level corporate executive. If a nasty cheating scandal broke out, her career would be ruined. Poor guy. This anonymous sender clearly hadn’t thought about that. Or maybe he had, but he just didn’t care. Or maybe he thought I would quietly swallow my pride and handle it privately, leaving them to act without consequences. What a clown. I didn’t reply and blocked this number too.

When Hathaway called me again, I had just charged over a hundred thousand dollars to her credit card. The surgery and prep fees at a top New York hospital were astronomical. The neurosurgeon looked at me, giving me a warm smile. “Don’t be nervous, James. We’ll get through this together.” My throat tightened, and I almost cried. From Miami to New York, I had been completely alone. When the hospital staff realized I had checked in with no family, their eyes filled with pity. They had been taking extra care of me. I never expected that in a strange city, total strangers would show me more warmth than my own wife. And that was when Hathaway’s call came in. “James, how are you doing over there? You spent a fortune. I assume your mood has improved?” Her tone was icy. Even through the speaker, I could feel her irritation. “What? Does the money hurt your feelings?” “Hardly.” Hathaway paused for a moment before asking, “When are you coming back? My parents keep asking where you went.” It had been a week. I had finished my bucket list and checked into the hospital today. I obviously wasn’t going back. Just then, a nurse’s voice echoed in the room. “Bed 28, time for your blood draw!” “Are you in a hospital?” Hathaway’s sharp question made me chuckle. It proved she hadn’t been home in days. If she had set foot in our house, she would have seen my diagnosis reports sitting right there on the coffee table. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I came in for a checkup. Hathaway, have you… not been home?” I waited for her excuse. If she gave me even a semi-plausible lie, I would have let it go. She went silent for a few seconds before saying, “I’ve been busy.” “Staying at the office, or staying with Harry?” It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. Because at that very moment, my phone had received a few more photos from a new number. The timestamp was last night. Hathaway was fast asleep, wrapped in the arms of another man. They looked peaceful, curled up together like a perfect, happy couple. Looking at it, I let out a soft scoff. “Just sign the divorce papers. Think of that hundred thousand dollars as my share of the asset division.” Hathaway lost her temper. “Don’t you dare! James, what the hell is wrong with you?!” “I told you a thousand times, Harry is just a friend! You spend all your time cooped up in that house. It’s rotting your brain!” “I’m warning you, cut this out. I’ve had enough!” I didn’t feel angry at all. “Hathaway, if I died one day, would you actually be sad?” “No! James, get back here right now so we can talk.” I sighed. Why was getting a divorce so exhausting? Just as I was about to hang up, Harry’s voice drifted through her end of the line. “Hathaway, is he accusing us again? Ugh.” “I knew I shouldn’t have come back. I told you, James is just incredibly petty.” “Just ignore him. He’s had it too easy for too long!” I didn’t listen to the rest. I hung up. A dull, throbbing pain exploded in my head. Fighting the intense vertigo, I opened my Instagram and posted a single status: “I’m leaving. The space is all yours now.” I tagged both Hathaway and Harry. Since they thought I was a petty, dramatic husband, I might as well act like one. Hathaway had just secured the NICE project. My post immediately caused a PR nightmare, halting the collaboration between the two companies. While waiting for my final pre-op results, I went down to the hospital’s rooftop garden. I took a few photos of myself under the sun and posted them on Ins. “The sun is warm. The view is beautiful here.” A minute later, Hathaway called back, screaming. “James, you are absolutely disgusting!” “You’re trying to ruin me, aren’t you?!” “Why don’t you just die!” Hearing her venomous words through the phone, my mind went blank. I felt something inside my chest shatter into a million pieces. Right after that, my vision went dark. I heard nurses shouting for a doctor in the background, and the last thing I heard was Hathaway’s irritated voice on the phone: “James, what kind of act are you putting on now?!”

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At Chloe’s birthday party, she publicly asked my fiancé, Harvey, for a gift. It was the silver crucifix he wore around his neck, the one he never took off. Without a single second of hesitation, Harvey took it off and handed it to her. Chloe smiled, dangling the necklace in front of her. “You’ve worn this cross for eight years. I begged you for it for three years, and you always refused. Why the sudden change of heart today?” Harvey didn’t say anything, but his cheeks flushed slightly. The crowd started cheering and whistling, teasing that Harvey’s feelings for her were too obvious to hide. Amidst the roaring laughter in the hall, I stood frozen in the corner, gripping my wine glass so hard my knuckles turned white. Nobody knew that I was the one who got him that cross. Eight years ago, I knelt on the cold chapel floor for three days and nights, begging God for his life. That was the year he got into a horrific car accident. He was lying in the ICU, practically brain-dead. I spent those nights praying in the chapel, pressing my forehead against the stone altar until I bled, just begging for him to wake up. The priest told me this blessed cross would keep him safe. But nobody warned me that while the cross could save his life, it could never secure his heart.

The teasing and cheering around them grew louder and louder, like waves crashing over me. Harvey was surrounded by the crowd, a gentle look of indulgence in his eyes—a look he probably didn’t even realize he was making. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t even cry. I just felt… exhausted. I turned around and walked away without saying goodbye, pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the banquet hall. Outside, the freezing spring rain drenched my thin evening gown in seconds. But my heart was a million times colder than the storm. Suddenly, my phone vibrated violently. It was the emergency hotline for the Air Medical Rescue Team. I swiped to answer. My captain’s panicked voice blasted through the speaker. “Maya! Get back to base immediately! There’s a massive multi-car pileup on the mountain highway. A tour bus has plunged over the cliff!” “On my way. I’ll be at the base in ten minutes.” I ran into the pouring rain without a second thought and flung open the door of my rugged SUV. I was the lead surgeon of the Air Medical Rescue Team. I was the one who dragged people back from the brink of death. Yet, I couldn’t drag back the heart of the man I loved. If I couldn’t save it, I might as well stop trying. The rescue scene at the mountain highway looked like an absolute hellscape. Blood was mixed with mud, and screams of agony echoed through the dark ravine. Heavy rescue gear weighed me down as I rappelled from the helicopter, dropping a hundred feet down to the bottom of the cliff. We worked for five straight hours. My hands were covered in other people’s blood. My body was pushed to its absolute physical limit. Just as I was securing the last critically injured patient onto a stretcher, a low, ominous rumble vibrated from the mountain above. “Dr. Maya! Watch out! Second landslide!” my teammate screamed through the walkie-talkie. I looked up. Huge boulders and a massive wave of mud were cascading down, swallowing everything in their path. To protect the patient on the stretcher, my instinct took over. I threw my body over him. An agonizing pain exploded in my back as a stray boulder slammed violently into my shoulder blade. Before darkness swallowed me whole, only one face flashed through my mind. It was Harvey. Harvey, who had been dying in the ICU eight years ago. The same Harvey I had bled and prayed for in that cold chapel. When I woke up, it was already the afternoon of the next day. The sharp smell of bleach hit my nose. My captain, Vance, let out a massive sigh of relief when he saw me open my eyes. “You’re lucky to be alive, Maya. The rock barely missed your spine.” I forced a pale, weak smile, my voice raspy. “But I made it, didn’t I?” Vance sighed. He looked hesitant, like he was holding something back. “While you were unconscious, your phone kept buzzing. It was Harvey. I called him back to let him know what happened.” “I had to call several times before someone finally answered. But…” My heart skipped a beat. “But what?” Vance looked away, his expression a mix of embarrassment and anger. “A woman answered. She said… she said Harvey was busy helping her pick out ski gear for their trip to Switzerland. She said he didn’t want to be disturbed.” “She also told me to tell you… to stop playing the victim just to get his attention.” ‘Playing the victim.’ Those words felt like a dull knife hacking away at my chest. So, in his eyes, my life-or-death rescue missions were just pathetic attempts to beg for his affection. I closed my eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. “I see. Thanks, Captain.” I didn’t stay in the hospital a minute longer than I had to. I pulled out my IV drip, ignored the tearing pain in my back, and caught a cab back to the penthouse I shared with Harvey. Next week was scheduled for our wedding dress fitting. Next month was our wedding. When I pushed the door open, the living room lights were blazing. Harvey was standing in the walk-in closet, packing clothes into a sleek silver suitcase. Hearing the door, he turned around. When his eyes swept over my pale face and my mud-stained jacket, he frowned slightly. “Where were you last night? You didn’t answer your phone.” There was no worry in his voice. Only a cold, condescending accusation. “Saving lives,” I replied flatly. Harvey let out a cold scoff, carelessly tossing a designer shirt into his suitcase. “Maya, how much does that stupid rescue job even pay you? Is it really worth making yourself look like a homeless wreck?” “Yesterday, Chloe was just playing around when she asked for the cross. You got mad and threw a tantrum, and now you’re staying out all night? Are you serious?” I stared at him in silence. This was the man I had loved for eight years. His collar was open. The silver cross was no longer there. Suddenly, he felt like a complete stranger. So foreign that I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. “Where are you going?” I asked, looking at the suitcase. Harvey paused, a trace of guilt flickering in his eyes before he quickly covered it up. “Chloe’s depression is acting up again.” “The environment here isn’t good for her recovery. I’m taking her to Switzerland to clear her head.” “Isn’t our wedding dress fitting next week?” my voice sounded incredibly hollow, even to my own ears. Harvey turned around, his frown deepening. “A dress fitting can happen anytime. What’s the big deal if we push it back a few days?” “Maya, you’re a healthy, normal person. Chloe is sick. Can you stop being so incredibly selfish for once?” “She only went abroad years ago because her family went bankrupt. She’s suffered enough. Do you really have to hold a grudge over a stupid necklace?”

Selfish. Grudge. I stared at him, and a laugh escaped my lips. But then, the tears finally spilled over. My laughter seemed to irritate Harvey. He took a step toward me, reaching out to grab my hand. “What are you laughing at?” I took a step back, dodging his touch. The movement tugged at the wound on my back, sending a sharp, stabbing pain through my body. But it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. “Harvey, that cross… I knelt in that chapel for three days and three nights to get it.” “When you were dying after the crash, I begged God to save you.” “The priest told me that the cross would keep you safe.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “Now that you’ve given it to Chloe, aren’t you afraid it’ll bring her bad luck instead?” Harvey’s face darkened, instantly replacing his guilt with pure rage. “Maya! What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Chloe just wanted a symbol of safety. How can you be so vicious?!” “Enough. I don’t have time for your hysteria. We both need some space to cool off.” With that, he grabbed his suitcase and stormed out of the apartment. At the doorway, he paused, not bothering to turn back. “I’ll take you to the dress fitting when I get back. Get your act together.” The heavy front door slammed shut. I stared at the empty foyer. Slowly, I slid down to the floor, wrapping my arms around myself. There would be no dress fitting. There would be no wedding. I pulled out my phone and dialed the wedding planner. “Hi, is this Mr. Henderson?” “Miss Maya! Yes! Is there something we need to adjust for the ceremony?” “No,” I said, staring at our framed couple’s photo on the coffee table. “Cancel the wedding. Keep the deposit.” Silence deadened the line for ten seconds. “Miss Maya… are you joking? This is a million-dollar venue setup…” “I’m not joking. Cancel it. I’ll pay whatever contract termination fees are required.” After hanging up, I called the high-end bridal boutique where my custom gown was being held. “Miss Maya, the gown designed personally by Mr. Harvey has just been flown in from Paris…” “Shred it,” I said coldly. Since he didn’t care about our marriage, I wasn’t going to leave him even a single thread of it.

I hung up and looked down at my hands. There was dried mud under my fingernails, and my bandages were starting to seep with fresh blood. Strangely, the physical pain from my torn flesh didn’t hurt as much as his accusations of me being “selfish.” I braced myself against the sofa and stood up with difficulty. Since I was leaving, I needed to take what was mine. I walked into the bedroom and opened the closet. It was packed with expensive designer clothes Harvey had bought for me over the years. But every single piece was tailored to Chloe’s style. Soft, muted, delicate colors. But I was a trauma surgeon who rappelled down helicopters in thunderstorms. I hated white. I yanked the clothes off their hangers and tossed them onto the floor like garbage. At the very bottom of the closet, I pulled out a worn-out, faded canvas backpack. It was the backpack I used back when I first met Harvey. I was a sophomore in medical school back then. Harvey was the golden boy of the campus—brilliant, wealthy, and admired by everyone. And by his side, there was always Chloe, looking like a graceful white swan. But during our senior year, the Williams family went bankrupt overnight. Shortly after, Harvey was critically injured in a car crash and ended up in the ICU. The very same night, Chloe boarded a flight to New York. She said she couldn’t handle the struggle. She said her family had arranged a wealthy marriage for her. She said she was sorry. She left without looking back. I was the only one who stayed. I sold my late parents’ house, worked three part-time jobs, and paid off his astronomical medical bills. When the hospital ran out of his rare blood type, I donated 800cc of my own blood in one sitting, almost dying on the donation chair. While he was comatose, I knelt in that chapel for three days and three nights. I told God I would gladly trade ten years of my own life just to see him wake up. And he did. He held my hand, his eyes red, and swore: “Maya, my life belongs to you now. From this day on, I, Harvey Williams, will only live for you.” For eight years, I stayed by his side. I watched him build his empire from nothing to a multi-billion-dollar corporation. I thought my love had finally melted his cold heart. But three years ago, Chloe came back to the States with a clinical depression diagnosis. The day Harvey went to pick her up from the airport, we were supposed to be choosing our wedding rings. He took a phone call and abandoned me in the middle of the jewelry store. From that day on, everything changed. Chloe was afraid of the dark, so he spent nights at her apartment. Chloe liked the design of my engagement ring, so he asked me to choose a different one. And yesterday, he took the cross that had saved his life and hung it around her neck. How pathetic. The man I saved with my own blood would crawl back to his first love the second she whistled. I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the cheap backup ring he had bought me. I placed it on the coffee table, right next to all the black cards and the keys to the Maybach he had given me. I didn’t owe him anything anymore. In fact, he owed me everything. Suddenly, my phone rang. The caller ID flashed: Harvey. I watched it vibrate until it was about to go to voicemail before I finally answered. “Maya! Have you lost your mind?!” Harvey’s furious voice exploded through the speaker. “Why did you cancel the venue?! And why did you order the boutique to shred the wedding dress?!” His breathing was heavy. He was clearly livid. “That dress was a custom piece! Do you have any idea how much money we have to pay for breaking the contract?!” I put the phone on speaker and tossed it onto the table. Then, I went back to packing my old t-shirts into my canvas bag. “Whatever the cost, I’ll cover it,” I said calmly. There was a sudden silence on the other end. He clearly didn’t expect me to be this calm. “Maya, what is this tantrum about?” his tone softened a fraction. “I already told you, I’ll take you to the fitting as soon as I get back from Switzerland.” “Do you really have to use such extreme measures just to manipulate me?” “Manipulate you?” I let out a soft laugh. “Harvey, you highly overrate your own importance.” “What… what do you mean?” I zipped up my canvas bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Exactly what I said. The wedding is off. We are done.” “Stop playing games!” Harvey’s voice escalated again. “We’ve been together for eight years! You’re throwing it all away?” “Over a stupid cross? Because I postponed a dress fitting by a few days?” “Maya, when did you become so childish and unreasonable?!” Listening to his rant, I felt nothing but a deep, suffocating exhaustion. “Harvey, that wedding dress… was it really designed for me?”

The breathing on the other end stopped instantly. “What… what are you talking about?” I looked down at the floor. “The boutique manager let it slip. The waist measurement of that gown was 24 inches.” “My waist is 26 inches.” “24 inches is Chloe’s size.” A dead silence stretched between us. I could hear Harvey’s sharp, panicked intake of breath. “Maya, let me explain…” “Save it,” I cut him off. “Since the dress was made for her anyway, consider the shredded pieces my early wedding gift to her.” “Maya!” Harvey panicked. “That dress was Chloe’s dream!” “She is incredibly sick right now! I just wanted her to wear her dream dress once before she goes into treatment! It was just to fulfill her wish!” “Are you really so heartless that you’d deny a dying girl’s last wish?!” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes. In fact, I’d gladly watch her burn.” “You are insane!” Harvey roared. “Your captain called me earlier and said you were injured in some accident! Maya, you’re playing the victim card again, and now you’re acting like a saint!” “Do you honestly think that throwing a breakup tantrum will make me crawl back to you?” ‘Playing the victim.’ He said it again. I touched the bandage on my back, which was now completely soaked with fresh blood. “Harvey Williams,” I said his name, my voice eerily calm. “You think I’m playing the victim?” “Why don’t you check the local news?” “A multi-car pileup on the mountain highway. A female rescue doctor was crushed by a boulder while protecting a patient.” “Oh, and enjoy your ski trip in Switzerland with Chloe.” “I didn’t know someone with severe clinical depression could ski in the Alps.” “I just hope she doesn’t break her neck on the slopes.” “Maya! How dare you curse her—” I hung up before he could finish. Then, I blocked his number. I deleted him from WhatsApp, Snapchat, Instagram, and every other platform. I erased him from my life. Once done, I threw my phone into the trash can. I grabbed my worn-out canvas bag and walked to the door. I took one last look at the “home” I had carefully decorated over the past three years. The cushions on the sofa were hand-stitched by me. The plants on the balcony were nurtured by me. Even the crystal chandelier was wiped clean, crystal by crystal, by my own hands. Now, it all looked like a giant, pathetic joke. I opened the door. Outside, the storm was still howling, blowing rain onto my face. I didn’t take an umbrella. I just stepped out into the dark, wet night. The cold rain hit my wound, making my entire body shudder in pain. But my spine was perfectly straight. Suddenly, a black Maybach screeched to a halt in front of the building. The door opened, and Harvey’s assistant, Carter, ran out holding an umbrella, looking panicked. “Miss Maya! Where are you going?” Carter gasped when he saw how soaked and pale I was. Then, his eyes fell on my back, and he let out a horrified shriek. “Oh my god! Miss Maya, your back… it’s covered in blood!” I gave him a cold, empty look. “Are you here to pick up Harvey’s stuff?” Carter nodded nervously. “Mr. Williams said… he said Miss Chloe forgot her antidepressants. He asked me to retrieve them. He also said…” “What did he say?” “He said… he said you should stop standing in the rain to play the victim. He said he’ll give you an explanation when he gets back from Switzerland.” I let out a soft laugh, the first genuine smile on my face all night. “An explanation?” I adjusted the strap of my bloody canvas bag on my shoulder. “Go tell Harvey.” “I don’t need his explanations anymore.” “He’s free.”

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Marcus and I had been married for ten years. His phone was always running out of storage. Every single day, he wiped his chat history clean. I told him to just get a new phone. But he refused, claiming his current one was still perfectly fine. I actually believed him. But while he was busy deleting my texts and forgetting my birthday, he kept over two thousand photos of his female coworker in his gallery, including shots of them at a Halloween theme park. At that moment, I finally realized it wasn’t that his phone didn’t have enough space. It was that I didn’t deserve to take up any of it. On my birthday, after ten years of marriage, Marcus came home late from work. He looked at the empty dining table, completely dazed. I looked back at him, equally shocked. “Where’s the cake? I thought you said you were cooking tonight? You didn’t even buy groceries?” Marcus slapped his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I totally forgot. I’ll go run to the store right now.” All the excitement I had built up over the afternoon instantly dissolved into nothing. I felt utterly defeated. “Forget it, it’s too late. Let’s just order DoorDash.” “Marcus, seriously, why don’t you just upgrade your phone? You’re constantly clearing your chats!” I complained, looking at him. Marcus immediately sent me a $1,500 PayPal transfer. “I’m really sorry, babe. My phone is still fine, but you should get a new one. Take this and buy whatever you want!” Hearing this, I gave him a reluctant smile. “Go take a shower. I’ve got some steaks in the oven, and I’ll order a few more things. Let’s just have a feast at home tonight.” Marcus pinched my cheek gently and headed to the bathroom. While waiting, I got bored and started browsing the latest phone models on my own phone, thinking I should still surprise Marcus with an upgrade. Wanting to compare prices, I picked up Marcus’s phone to see if his shopping apps were showing different deals. But the moment I unlocked it, a system notification popped up: Storage full. Clean up junk files now. Without thinking, I tapped into his photo gallery, intending to delete useless screenshots for him. What I saw next made my blood run cold. There were 2,438 photos sitting quietly in his album. And without exception, every single one of them featured the same face. His coworker, Amber Sterling. The earliest photos dated back to a year ago. Every picture was perfectly angled, capturing her looking incredibly soft and beautiful. There were even candid shots of her turning around and laughing at the camera. The most recent photos made me physically tremble. It was a selfie of Marcus and Amber, their faces painted with bloody red makeup, wearing matching devil horns on their heads. The background was clearly the Halloween Horror Nights event at the theme park, taken just a week ago. I remembered that day perfectly. It was our daughter Lily’s parent-teacher conference. I was out of town on a business trip and couldn’t make it, so I asked Marcus to go. Later, the teacher emailed me saying no one showed up. When I confronted him back then, he claimed he had to work overtime and forgot about it because he had cleared our chat history. I had to call the teacher to apologize profusely, and the moment I got back from my trip, I rushed to her school to smooth things over. Marcus had acted so guilty, even buying Lily a expensive Lego set to make up for it. But I never would have guessed that his “overtime” was actually a date at a theme park with his coworker! Looking at these photos, I pictured my little girl standing alone in the classroom, confused and abandoned. A wave of fury washed over me. I wanted to drag him out of the shower right now and scream in his face. No wonder he cleared his chats every day. It was never about storage. It was about leaving no paper trail. And because he trusted me blindly and assumed I’d never snoop, he boldly kept the evidence right in his gallery! The doorbell rang. The food delivery had arrived, snapping me back to reality. I took the food, called Lily to wash her hands for dinner, and sat on the couch to put his phone back exactly where it was. After a few deep breaths, I decided to play dumb. Marcus was so sure I’d never check his phone. He had kept his texts clean, leaving the gallery out in the open like it was nothing. But even the most careful liar makes mistakes, especially when they grow arrogant. He was stepping all over my dignity, treating both me and our daughter like we were invisible. Fine. If that was how he wanted to play, I would make him regret it. I would make him pay until he lost absolutely everything.

After Marcus came out, we ate dinner as a family. Later that night, he made an excuse about reviewing some work files and locked himself in the study. I opened my phone and searched for Amber Sterling along with their company’s name. It didn’t take long for the algorithm to lead me straight to her TikTok profile. When I clicked on it, I found hundreds of videos. Almost all of them featured Marcus. Unintentional glances, feeding each other food. Marcus was probably still trying to be somewhat cautious. In many of the videos, only the lower half of his face was visible. But anyone who knew him could easily recognize the distinct mole on his chin. Amber’s captions were even more sickening. “Marcus said he wishes he could go back ten years just so he could be the one driving me to school every day. I’m dead.” “Marcus got me a holiday gift today, and he even bought me all the gifts he missed from previous years!” “A client was being difficult today, and Marcus totally stood up for me and threw a punch! So hot!” Seeing this, a memory flashed in my mind. Six months ago, I received a call from the police station late at night, saying Marcus had gotten into a physical altercation. By the time I rushed over, the situation was resolved, and Marcus was comforting a young girl. He seemed flustered when he saw me, explaining that some creep was harassing his colleague, so he had to step in. Amber even thanked me back then, saying how much Marcus had helped her. She even treated us to dinner afterward. Looking back, it was laughable. It wasn’t him being a good citizen; he was just playing the hero to rescue his little damsel in distress! And I, like an idiot, thought my husband was a man of integrity, even helping them curse out that terrible client. I scrolled down further and found the video of Amber and Marcus at the theme park. Her caption read: “Halloween preview night! Marcus took me out to play. Since we were short on time, he promised he’d take me again on actual Halloween night!” I checked the date. A plan quickly formed in my mind. The next morning, Marcus did something highly unusual. He got up early and made breakfast. At the table, I casually brought up Halloween. “Let’s go to the theme park for Halloween. I saw on Instagram that everyone’s going!” Marcus rejected the idea immediately. “No way. It’s going to be packed. What if Lily gets lost in the crowd?” Lily looked down, her face filled with disappointment. Marcus patted her head, trying to soothe her. Seeing her sad face, I pressed on. “But we can just go for a little bit. There are so many fun rides!” “It’ll be a good way to relax. Besides, the next day is Saturday.” Hearing this, Lily looked up. “Yeah! Can we please go, Dad?” I looked at Marcus. He frowned and sighed. “Fine. If you guys want to go, we’ll go.” Lily and I smiled at each other. I knew exactly what he was planning. He was going to use his old trick again, pretending he forgot because his chat history got deleted. I didn’t say anything else and simply nodded. When Halloween arrived, I sent Marcus a text right before leaving work, specifically reminding him: Don’t delete your messages. We’ll meet you at the entrance. Marcus replied with a simple “Got it” and nothing else. I knew what that meant. He was gearing up to play the “I got too busy and forgot” card again. Sure enough, when I opened TikTok and searched Amber’s account, she had already posted a video of them in his car. “Marcus is taking me out for Halloween! Tonight belongs to just the two of us.” And the comments section was filled with envious users. “Oh my god, he’s such a green flag!” “Honestly, your guy Marcus is so handsome and successful. Is he really single?” “How did you snag such an amazing man?” Amber replied in the comments: “It’s called destiny. Marcus has been focused on his career all these years, which is why he was single. We are the perfect partners.” “Who cares if office romance is against the rules? Marcus is willing to risk it all to be with me!”

As the comment section showered her with envy, I logged into my burner account and left a comment: “Your boyfriend has a wedding ring tan line on his finger. Isn’t he married?” Amber replied almost instantly: “He’s a man of charm. The woman he lives with is not the love of his life.” The internet immediately caught on. “Wait, so he is married? You’re a side chick?” “I knew a guy this perfect wouldn’t just be sitting on the market. Being a proud homewrecker is disgusting!” Amber quickly deleted all the negative comments, but I was fast enough to screenshot every single one of them. Amber, you probably have no idea how much society detests homewreckers. Your desperate deletion of comments only proves one thing: you are insecure. You know your relationship is dirty, yet you proudly parade it. That just shows how cheap you are. I took a deep breath, kept my mouth shut, and drove my daughter straight to the theme park. Just as we arrived, my phone rang. It was Marcus. “Chloe, I just remembered I ordered some expensive steaks on Instacart, and they’re being delivered right now. You need to go home and put them in the fridge, or they’ll spoil!” My heart cold-hardened. Marcus would never buy groceries at a time like this. His only goal was to drag me back home so he could enjoy his night with Amber. “Okay, I got it,” I said. Maybe my voice sounded too calm, because he suddenly hesitated. “I actually have some urgent work to finish tonight, so I might not be able to join you guys. But don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you and Lily next weekend!” “I understand.” I hung up and checked our Ring doorbell camera app. The delivery guy was indeed there. I texted my neighbor, asked him to grab the box for me, and sent him $20 via Venmo to say thanks. Then, I walked into the park with my daughter. Nothing was going to stop me tonight. I was going to make sure Marcus learned that actions have consequences. At the same time, my divorce attorney sent over the draft agreement. I had compiled all of Marcus’s financial statements, along with screenshots of all the expensive gifts Amber had boasted about on TikTok. Those gifts were bought with our marital assets. I forwarded everything to my lawyer. All that was left was to serve him. The park was crowded. After dressing Lily up in a cute little devil outfit, we held hands and walked through the park. I took tons of photos of her, and some of myself. Our family of three was split into two teams tonight. In Amber’s eyes, a wife like me didn’t deserve to be here because I was no longer young and fresh. But who decided that having fun was only for the young? Using Amber’s real-time TikTok posts as a map, I tracked their location. Lily was having a blast, and I bought her some cotton candy. Just as we were looking for a staff member to take a photo of us, I saw them. Not even ten feet away, Amber was wrapping her arms around Marcus’s neck, kissing him while posing for a photo. Lily saw them too. She froze. “Dad?” Before I could stop her, she ran over. “Dad.” That shout made Marcus spin around. The moment his eyes met mine, sheer terror flashed across his face. He pushed Amber away so hard she almost fell. “Chloe, I… I can explain.” He was trembling, his eyes filled with instant regret. Lily walked up to him. “Dad, didn’t you say you had to work overtime?” I stood there, a cold smile on my face. I walked up and slapped him hard across the face. “Marcus, we are getting a divorce.”

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I was born frail. The moment I took my first breath, my heart monitor nearly flatlined. When my adoptive mother found out I was a “fake” heiress swapped at birth, she decided on the spot to pull the plug and end my treatment. But eight of the richest magnates in New York spent a fortune to bring me back from the brink of death. Why? Because we shared a physical connection. Any pain I suffered was amplified tenfold in them. Later, a nanny slipped up and let me fall into a garden pond. The nation’s top defense attorney developed a 104-degree fever from the pneumonia I had caught. He sued her overnight. By sunrise, she was locked away for life. A school bully deliberately tripped me. A notorious mafia boss suffered multiple fractures because of my fall. The minute he walked out of the ICU, his first order was to make the bully’s entire family disappear from the city. Pampered and protected by these men, I grew up without another scratch. New York’s wealthiest tycoon immediately arranged a marriage for his only grandson, wanting me to marry into his family so I could be cared for around the clock. But on the night of our engagement party, the biological daughter who had just returned drugged me and sold me off to a human trafficking ring deep in the mountains. “A sick girl who can’t even have children doesn’t deserve to marry into high society!” “Everything you have is mine! Once you’re dead, all their love will finally be mine!” With the last bit of my strength, I pressed the emergency distress signal on my ring. In the next second, the entire city of New York was turned upside down.

I opened my eyes in a dilapidated cabin deep in the mountains, my head splitting with a agonizing pain. I tried to call for help, but my throat was parched, and I coughed up a mouthful of dark blood. “Chloe, is this girl really worth thirty thousand dollars?” A cold, familiar voice drifted in from outside the door. It was Chloe Sterling. “Robert is getting old, and he is desperate for a young wife. He has the cash to burn.” “Serena stole my identity for eighteen years. Letting her rot with an old man is mercy.” “Why? Are you suddenly feeling guilty about selling your biological daughter?” So this was the backwoods where Chloe grew up. She had teamed up with her adoptive mother, who was actually my biological mother, to sell me for a measly thirty grand. I dragged my broken, aching body toward the door, inch by inch. “Oh, look who’s awake.” Hearing the noise, Chloe kicked the door open. “Good news, Serena. Tomorrow morning, you’re marrying Robert. You should thank me. I handpicked this marriage for you. Pretty generous of me, don’t you think?” Chloe smirked, looking down at me like I was dirt. Standing next to her was Beatrice, a heavy-set, disheveled local woman, my biological mother. I weakly reached out, grabbing the hem of Beatrice’s pants. “You want money, right? Let me go. I’ll give you three million.” “Three million?” Beatrice’s eyes widened at the astronomical figure. But in the next second, Chloe kicked me hard in the ribs, sending spots dancing across my vision. “Quit lying, Serena. Where would you get that kind of cash?” “The Sterling family fortune belongs to me now. You’re nothing but a penniless imposter.” I curled up on the cold dirt floor, my stomach twisting in agonizing pain. No… she was wrong. The Sterling family used to be completely ordinary. It was only because of my connection to the eight New York magnates that they showered the Sterlings with contracts and resources, dragging them into high society. Without me, Chloe’s dream of being a wealthy socialite was nothing but a delusion! I glanced around the drafty, cracked cabin. This was where Chloe grew up, and where I was supposed to have lived. Knowing Chloe had endured a hard life here, I held back my anger and tried to reason with her. “I won’t fight you for the Sterling fortune. Let me go, and I’ll pretend today never happened.” “But if you hurt me, the eight families will make you pay with your life.” Chloe didn’t understand how ruthless those billionaires could be. The tycoon had bankrupted a rising star in three days just for insulting me. The top attorney had put my lazy nanny in a maximum-security prison for life. And the mafia boss? The bully who pushed me had his entire family fed to the sharks in international waters. Beatrice paled, nervously grabbing Chloe’s sleeve. “Maybe we should let her go… We can’t mess with billionaires…” But to Chloe, my words were just a desperate bluff. “Serena, stop flattering yourself!” “Those billionaires cared about the Sterling heiress. Now that I’ve taken my rightful place, you think they’ll still protect a fake like you?” She glared at Beatrice. “Don’t be an idiot! If you let her go now, she’ll call the cops on you for kidnapping!” “Then say goodbye to your thirty grand, and say goodbye to Jimmy’s future! He’ll end up in prison!” At the mention of her precious son, Jimmy, Beatrice’s face hardened. Without another word, she grabbed a thick rope and brutally bound my hands together. She tied the knot so tight it cut deep into my flesh. “Don’t hate me, kid,” Beatrice muttered. “That money is for your brother’s new house. You never did anything for this family anyway. Consider this pay-back for giving birth to you.” I weakly fluttered my eyelids. “You… are not my mother.” No real mother would sell her child for cash. Beatrice didn’t deserve to be called a mother. She didn’t even deserve to be called human. Beatrice’s face darkened. She grabbed my hair and dragged me toward the pitch-black back room. Just as the pain was about to make me black out, Chloe’s phone suddenly rang.

On the other end of the line, the Sterlings sounded completely hysterical. “Chloe! Something terrible has happened! Is Serena with you?!” “All eight magnates have suddenly fallen critically ill! They’ve mobilized their entire private security forces, vowing to tear apart whoever kidnapped Serena!” Chloe’s heart skipped a beat. Forcing her voice to sound sweet and innocent, she lied, “Serena is missing? I have no idea. I’m out with some friends!” Deafening sirens and shouting could be heard through the receiver before her adoptive parents abruptly hung up. The eight magnates felt my pain. They would lock onto my location very soon. But Chloe still didn’t realize the gravity of the situation. She casually tossed her phone onto a table. “You really have all the luck, Serena. Even your disappearance causes a scene.” “But New York is thousands of miles away. By the time Robert claims you tonight, you’ll be ruined. Who would want a second-hand toy?” Chloe sneered at my limp body. She had no idea that she was digging her own grave. Just then, Beatrice brought in a local matchmaker, bowing and scraping. The matchmaker pinched my chin with greasy hands, inspecting me like livestock. “Ugh, she’s in terrible shape. Looks like she’s on her deathbed.” “Fifteen thousand. That’s my final offer.” Chloe crossed her arms and laughed. “I knew Serena was worthless!” “Whatever, just sell her! Once she’s gone, I’ll be the only princess the eight families care about.” “No way!” Beatrice screamed. Chloe wanted me gone, but Beatrice only cared about the cash. She pinched my waist hard, whispering a harsh warning, “Stop looking like a corpse! If you ruin Jimmy’s chance to get his house, I’ll kill you myself!” A sharp pain radiated from my ribs, and I forced a weak, grim smile. The matchmaker sighed. “Fine. Fifty percent deposit now. We’ll pay the rest when she’s delivered tomorrow.” “Don’t screw this up, or you’ll owe me ten times the amount!” Beatrice nodded repeatedly, practically bowing the matchmaker out of the house. They tied me up tighter and threw me into the damp, moldy back room. My body was burning with a fever, and I began to drift in and out of consciousness. After what felt like hours, I felt someone untying the ropes. I forced my eyes open. The woman standing before me looked young, but her face was hollowed out by misery. “There’s a dirt trail to the east,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Keep running. Don’t look back.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Who are you… Why are you saving me?” The woman paused, her voice cracking. “I… I was kidnapped and brought here years ago too. If you escape… please get help.” I looked down and noticed she was missing her left leg. My heart ached. I squeezed her hand. “I will. I promise I’ll come back for you.” She supported my weight, limping with me toward the back door. But the moment we stepped out, we ran straight into Chloe and Beatrice. “Where do you think you’re going, Serena?” The limping woman immediately shielded me with her body. “The town sheriff said some powerful people from New York are looking for her! They said if she loses a single hair, they’ll burn this entire valley down!” “This girl is precious to them! You can’t do this!” “Precious?” Chloe mocked. “I am the real Sterling heiress now. I’m the one they’ll cherish. Serena is nothing.” “And you,” Chloe glared at the woman, “are just a bought-and-paid-for wife. How dare you interfere?” She kicked the woman aside and signaled Beatrice. “Our merchandise is trying to run. You know what to do, right?” Beatrice nodded, pulling off her heavy leather belt with a dark scowl. Terrified, I curled up against the wall, covering my head. “No… if you want to live, don’t touch me!” Beatrice laughed, ignoring my warning. “Stop threatening me! I don’t care if the President himself comes down here, nobody stops me from helping my son!” “No! Stop!” As the belt came swinging down, the limping woman threw herself over me, taking the brutal blow. “I… I won’t let you hurt her!” But Beatrice was blind with rage. The belt fell again and again, mercilessly. The woman’s back was quickly shredded, her body going limp over mine. Chloe grabbed my hair, forcing my head up. “See that? She’s bleeding because of you. You’re a curse, Serena!” My heart shattered. This woman was taking a beating just to protect me. How could I watch her die? I knelt on the floor, crying, my voice hoarse. “Stop! I won’t run! I’ll marry Robert! Just stop!”

Only then did Chloe signal Beatrice to stop. The woman’s shirt was soaked in blood, her breathing shallow and weak. But I was powerless right now. I had to play along. My distress signal was out. By tomorrow noon at the latest, the eight magnates would level this entire mountain. But I had to survive until then. Lying on the dirty floor, I reached out to Chloe. “Take me to a hospital…” “If I die… the eight families will make you suffer a fate worse than death.” “I don’t scare easily, Serena.” She used the tip of her boot to lift my chin. “You’ve been playing the sick card your whole life, and you’re still breathing.” Chloe didn’t understand. My life was literally sustained by the best medical care money could buy. And she wouldn’t live to see tomorrow’s sun. My body reached its limit. I gasped, vomiting a dark pool of blood right onto Chloe’s expensive shoes. Chloe shrieked, jumping back in disgust. Beatrice started panic. “Is… is she actually dying?” “If we can’t deliver her tomorrow, we’ll have to pay ten times the deposit! We don’t have that kind of money!” “Shut up!” Chloe snapped, shaking her off. “Get a local doctor. If she’s still throwing up after medicine, she’s just faking it.” Beatrice quickly dragged in a shady local doctor. He checked my pulse, peeled back my eyelids, and immediately fell backward in terror. “She’s barely breathing! I can’t treat this! She’s going to die!” He grabbed his things and bolted like he’d seen a ghost, leaving his medical bag behind. Beatrice was trembling. “What do we do? Even the doctor said she’s a goner…” “Useless idiots!” Chloe gritted her teeth, rummaging through the leftover medical bag. She pulled out an unmarked adrenaline shot. “As long as she breathes until we get paid, I don’t care what happens to her after!” “No… stay away…” I whimpered, shrinking into the corner. Chloe pinned me down while Beatrice brutally shoved the needle into my arm. As the sketchy chemical surged through my veins, my heart began to beat at a terrifying speed. My vitals temporarily stabilized, but I could feel my life force rapidly draining away. Ethan… please. Where are you? I don’t think I can hold on much longer. After injecting me, they tossed me aside like garbage. Beatrice was still paranoid. “What if she goes cold by morning?” Chloe’s eyes turned murderous. “We aren’t waiting until morning.” “We’re delivering her to Robert right now.”

They hastily wiped the blood off my face, threw me onto a wooden cart, and rolled me over to Robert’s house. Robert’s greasy eyes scanned my body, and he immediately began shooing Chloe and Beatrice out. “Get out! Don’t ruin my night!” “What’s the rush?” Chloe smiled wickedly, pulling out her phone and aiming the camera at my face. “It’s your wedding night. I need to record this so you can cherish the memories, Serena.” “I wonder… if I send this video to your precious Ethan, will he still want you as his bride?” The feel of Robert’s dirty hands on my skin made me physically sick. Summoning the absolute last of my strength, I bit down on his hand as hard as I could. “You crazy bitch!” He screamed, throwing me off. My forehead slammed against the sharp edge of a wooden table, and blood began to pour down my face. Chloe watched with her arms crossed, laughing. “Robert, your new wife is a wild one. You need to teach her a lesson.” Rubbing his bleeding hand, Robert grabbed a thick wooden club from the corner and walked toward me. “You little whore. I’m going to break your legs so you can never run!” The heavy club pressed against my collarbone, sliding down slowly toward my thigh. I looked up at the gloomy sky through the window. I could hear the faint, distant thrum of helicopters. But they were too far. It was too late. “Ahhh!!!” A sickening crack echoed through the room as my leg bone shattered. The agonizing pain consumed my entire consciousness. I gasped for air, swallowing the blood pooling in my throat. “You… will all pay… with your lives…” But my screams only excited Robert more. “Still got a mouth on you? Let’s see how loud you scream after this!” Just as the club swung down again, the front door was kicked open. Several panicked villagers rushed in. “We found you!” “There are thousands of armed men at the bottom of the mountain! They say they’re from some New York syndicates, and they’re looking for this girl!” “So fast?!” Chloe’s face drained of color. She immediately grabbed me by my hair, dragging me toward the back door. “You brought them here! You’re going to fix this!” My scalp felt like it was tearing off, my nails scraping against the dirt floor. “What… what are you doing?” “I’m throwing you off the cliff at the back of the mountain!” Robert grabbed my arm, protesting, “No way! I paid for this bitch!” Beatrice and the villagers were terrified. “The armed men said if she dies, the whole town dies! You can’t kill her!” Chloe sneered. “Idiots! She’s already badly hurt. If they find her like this, they’ll kill us anyway!” “If there’s no body, there’s no crime!” “Don’t just stand there! Help me!” The villagers hesitated for a second, but fear won over. They swarmed me and tied me up. “Don’t blame us, girl. One life to save the whole village is a fair deal.” I forced my head up, staring at their cold, indifferent faces. If they had saved me from Chloe, the eight families would have spared them. But they chose the wrong path. They dragged me to the edge of the cliff. Half of my body hung over the abyss. The biting mountain wind whipped against my wounds, sending fresh waves of pain through my body. Chloe looked down at me, victorious. “To be honest, Serena, I never planned on letting you live.” “Any last words before you drop?” Just then, a deafening roar shook the mountains, drowning out her voice. They were here. “What did you say?” Chloe leaned in, unable to hear. I raised my bloody face and flashed her a chilling smile. “I said, Chloe…” “Say goodbye to your beautiful life.” The next second, hundreds of military-grade helicopters broke through the clouds. A sea of red laser sights instantly targeted Chloe’s forehead.

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Three years of marriage, and our home had been run exactly like a corporation, under the strict rules set by Ethan Vance. From maintaining a professional family image to our daily meals, clothes, and schedule—there was no exception. “Rhi, you went out shopping today without submitting a time-off request? I’ll have to mark you as absent. A day’s worth of your allowance is deducted.” He tapped away on his laptop, logging my behavior for the day. Dressed in a crisp, tailored suit, he didn’t show a single hint of exhaustion from a long day at the office. But my mind was stuck on the scene I had witnessed earlier today. Chloe Miller had been looking up at the man beside her, chatting happily. The man in the suit held a shopping bag in one hand while wrapping his other arm tightly around her waist. That man was my husband, Ethan. Ethan closed his laptop, walked over, and wrapped his arms around me naturally. “Rhi, why didn’t you sign the check-in sheet at the front door? You know I’ll have to dock your pay for that.” I forced a weak smile and quietly pushed him away. “Sure. Deduct it.” Ethan had no idea that his probation period in my heart had just expired.

Earlier today, I did something rare. I didn’t report my schedule to Ethan. Instead, I took my best friend, Harper Brooks, to the luxury mall downtown. His birthday was coming up. I wanted to buy him a navy blue bow tie. “Rhi, why don’t we check out some other stores?” Harper suddenly blocked my path, her eyes darting around in panic. “What’s wrong? You just said this bow tie was the best one here. Plus, we’ve already walked through the whole mall.” I laughed, grabbing her hand to walk forward. But the moment I looked ahead, I froze. A woman was holding her phone, laughing beautifully. The man beside her held her hand tightly, leaning down to listen to her. The warmth and indulgence in his eyes were practically overflowing. The two of them looked like they were bound by an invisible, romantic thread, completely shut off from the rest of the world. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Just a few hours ago, Ethan had sent me a picture of himself working at his desk. He had even ordered a bouquet of roses to be delivered to me. The card read: “A little surprise for today.” I hid behind a marble pillar, my fingers trembling as I sent Ethan a message on Snapchat. “Ethan, are you at work?” A minute passed. No reply. Usually, he replied within seconds. The woman clung to his arm like a delicate doll, swaying gently and speaking in a sweet, soft voice. “Ethan, look! That puppy is so cute. Can we get one?” “You go home so late every day, and that big apartment gets so lonely. I want a dog to keep me company.” Under the warm mall lights, the tiny dark mole near the corner of his eye was clearly visible. I loved that mole. Whenever we were in bed, he would use it to tease and seduce me. I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. His deep voice drifted over, filled with a tenderness he rarely showed me. “Chloe, how many times have you asked for a pet? You lose interest in three minutes. I’m not cleaning up your mess.” “Besides, we’re in the office together every day. Isn’t my company enough for you?” Chloe blushed, trying to pull her hand away, but Ethan grabbed it back and held it tighter. “Alright, alright. I promise we can get one.” The woman was his assistant, Chloe Miller. I leaned against the pillar, feeling all the strength drain from my body. My heart felt like it was being violently squeezed. It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. Ethan had always hated pets. I had once asked him if we could get a puppy. He had smiled gently, kissing my forehead. “Rhi, having you is enough for me. Where would I get the energy to care for a pet? Besides, I’m allergic.” It turned out he wasn’t allergic at all. He just didn’t want to raise one with me. He had plenty of energy for someone else. “By the way, Ethan, I think your wife went out today,” Chloe murmured. Ethan frowned. “Did she not submit a request to you?” Chloe shook her head. “That won’t do,” Ethan said coldly. “Mark it as an unexcused absence. She needs to learn her lesson.” Listening to them, my tears finally spilled over. I ended up letting out a bitter, silent laugh. So, the lightning-fast replies I used to get were actually sent by Chloe. He had completely handed his phone over to her. Even Chloe knew all about our ridiculous “household rules.” My phone screen remained dark. Ethan’s reply never came.

By the time I got home from the mall, it was late at night. I washed my face, but my eyes were still swollen and red. When I pushed the door open, Ethan was sitting on the sofa, giving me a probing look. “Rhi, where did you go today? You didn’t even sign the check-in sheet.” “And I was too busy this afternoon to reply to your message.” My lips twitched. I wanted to confront him right then and there, but the words died in my throat. It felt completely pointless now. “It’s fine. Deduct my pay,” I said dryly. Honestly, this marriage was no longer worth saving anyway. He froze for a second, then reached out to play with my hair affectionately. “Rhi, you promised me you’d follow the rules.” “We’ve only been married for three years. Are you giving up already?” I flinched and ducked away from his touch. Ethan’s brow furrowed, and his voice dropped. “Rhiannon, my patience is limited. If you keep acting like this, your allowance is gone.” For three years, as a typical housewife, I had lived on his measly $300 monthly allowance. This money was barely a fraction of the interest sitting in my personal bank accounts. Seeing my silence, his tone grew even colder. “Rhi, you agreed to these terms yourself. If you acted like this in my company, you’d be fired for insubordination.” “I’ll give you three seconds to explain why you went out without submitting a request.” “Three… two… one…” As he counted down, his face grew darker by the second. But I remained silent. “I’ll give you one more chance. Ten seconds.” If this were before, I would have immediately rushed into his arms, begging for his forgiveness for my “little mistake.” But now, I just found it hilarious. I looked at him and asked, “Where were you this afternoon, Ethan?” A flash of panic crossed his eyes, but he quickly recovered his composure. “Where else would I be? The office, of course.” “Rhi, stop suffocating me. Can you give me some space?” “Besides, I’m working hard to support this family. Why can’t you be more understanding, like Chloe?” My heart sank into a cold abyss. Understanding? My throat burned with unshed tears. Had I not been understanding enough? During our three years of marriage, because he was an extreme perfectionist who insisted on “corporate structure” at home to set a good example, I let him run our house like a business. To maintain his perfect family image, I changed my entire wardrobe. I stopped wearing comfortable, casual clothes. Our entire life revolved around his work schedule. I had to sign in when I woke up and sign out when I went to sleep. If I failed, he docked my money. I even had to submit a “sick leave request” when I was ill, and I wasn’t allowed to invite friends over without his written permission. Our home had become a subsidiary of his company. And I, his wife, was nothing but an unpaid employee. Thinking about it now, I was a complete joke. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” “You can live however you want, and sleep with Chloe however you want. I’m done.” At the mention of Chloe, his eyes flickered, but then rage took over. “Rhiannon! What nonsense are you talking about? She’s just my assistant. We are completely professional!” “Just because I docked your allowance, you’re using this to threaten me? Don’t come crying back to me later.” “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once. Don’t let it happen again.” With that, he grabbed his laptop and stormed out. I didn’t care where he went. I was just exhausted. I wanted to sleep. Before closing my eyes, I sent a Snapchat message to my grandfather. “I lost. I’ll marry Julian.”

My grandfather replied with just one line. “Meet Julian Sterling tomorrow.” Julian was the man my grandfather had chosen for me years ago. He was stable, successful, and still single. I didn’t know when I finally fell asleep. The next morning, a vibrating notification woke me up. It was a text from Ethan. “Rhi, come to the office.” Perfect. He needed to sign the divorce papers anyway, and I could meet Julian nearby right after. Because Ethan was obsessed with “boundaries,” he rarely let me visit Vance Enterprises. As a result, I was stopped right at the front desk. “I’m Ethan’s wife. If you don’t believe me, you can call his assistant.” The receptionist sneered at me. “Ma’am, even if you claim to be Mr. Vance’s wife, you need an appointment.” “Look at yourself. In this company, everyone knows Chloe is Mr. Vance’s true partner.” I checked the time. If I didn’t get in now, I’d be late to meet Julian. I brushed past the receptionist and ran toward the elevators. “I’ll explain everything to Ethan myself!” I called out. But before I could reach the elevator, two security guards blocked my way. “Ma’am, if you don’t have an appointment, we will throw you out.” Looking at the hostility in their eyes, I realized that the company I had helped Ethan build was now completely foreign to me. The receptionist, the guards, even the keycard scanners—nothing was familiar anymore. Sighing, I called Ethan. It rang for a long time, but no one answered. The guard’s expression hardened, and he grabbed my arm, violently dragging me toward the glass doors. “Acting all classy, but you’re just another crazy stalker.” “Get out! A woman like you isn’t in Mr. Vance’s league. Don’t make me call the cops.” He threw me onto the concrete sidewalk. I scraped my palms, skin peeling back painfully. “I’m not…” I tried to argue, but then the lobby doors opened. Ethan was walking out, surrounded by several high-profile clients. Chloe, wearing a tight, elegant skirt, was walking right beside him, delicately adjusting his tie. One of the clients laughed. “Mr. Vance, Chloe is so attentive. I’m jealous.” “Exactly. Unlike my wife at home, who only knows how to complain and has no idea how hard I work.” Chloe blushed, her voice dripping with mock modesty. “Oh, stop it. It’s just my job. Besides, Mrs. Vance is always busy shopping and relaxing, so I’m happy to help.” “If your wives heard you, they’d be heartbroken.” Another client chuckled. “So what if they hear? If we didn’t pay for their lifestyles, they wouldn’t have such a cozy life. That’s just how it is in our circle.” He lowered his voice, asking Ethan, “So, did your wife throw a tantrum? It’s been three years. Has she really never complained about your house rules?” “When you first brought up the idea of running your home like a corporation, we thought it was a joke. I didn’t expect you to actually do it. If it works, maybe I should start docking my wife’s card too.” My voice caught in my throat. Ethan stayed silent for a moment, then let out a low laugh. “Of course she didn’t complain. Rhiannon loves me too much to ever refuse.” “As for whether it works… well, you can see the results.” The men shared a knowing, arrogant laugh. I didn’t stay on the ground. I stood up, brushing the dirt off my knees. “Ethan Vance.”

The group turned around instantly. Their smiles froze. Ethan’s face went completely pale, his smug expression vanishing. “Rhi? What are you doing here?” He rushed over to me, his brow furrowed. “Why did you come to the office without letting me know? Is this how a supportive wife behaves?” “I’ve been too lenient with you, and now you think you can just show up whenever you want. Your allowance for the next month is gone.” I didn’t argue. I just handed him a stack of papers. The divorce agreement was tucked right in the middle of his “check-in sheets.” He didn’t even look at them. He just quickly scribbled his signature on the bottom line, thinking it was just more household paperwork. Once I had the signed document back in my hands, I looked at him calmly. “Go ahead. Deduct it.” My calm demeanor made Ethan uneasy. He snapped, trying to mask his guilt with anger. “It was just a joke between guys. Can’t you be a little more mature?” “Besides, you heard them. Having a beautiful assistant by your side is completely normal in our circle.” Before I could speak, Chloe grabbed my sleeve, tears instantly streaming down her face. “Mrs. Vance, it’s all my fault! Please don’t blame Ethan. If I hadn’t tempted him, he wouldn’t have done this.” I frowned, completely baffled by her sudden waterworks. I hadn’t even said anything to her. “I just came to—” Suddenly, Chloe dropped to her knees, sobbing loudly. “Mrs. Vance, please forgive Ethan! I don’t want your place. I just want to stay by his side and support him. Please don’t fire me!” The onlookers stared at me with pure disgust, murmuring about how heartless I was. I tried to pull my sleeve out of her grip. But before I could even apply any force, Chloe shrieked. She threw herself backward, rolling down the short flight of concrete steps. Her forehead struck the sharp edge of the stone tile with a loud thud. Blood immediately pooled from her hairline, dripping down her face. “It hurts… it hurts so much!” She clutched her head, curling into a ball. “Ethan… my face… am I disfigured?” Before I could process what had happened, Ethan violently shoved me aside, screaming at me. “Rhiannon! Are you insane?!” “Chloe just wanted to work. How could you push her?!” I stared at him in disbelief. “Ethan, are you blind?” “I didn’t touch her. You all cornered me and accused me of things I didn’t do. How is this my fault?” Ethan was shaking with rage. “You are completely out of control, Rhiannon! Your allowance for the rest of the year is docked!” “I’m not coming home tonight. Stay there and think about what you’ve done!” With that, he scooped Chloe into his arms and rushed her to his car. The engine roared, and the car sped away, leaving me alone on the street. The scrapes on my palms stung sharply in the wind, making me tremble. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Look at this, Rhi,” I told myself. “This is the man you defied your grandfather to marry. This is the toxic, abnormal marriage you endured.” But it was fine. This unbalanced relationship was finally over. I walked into the Starbucks next door. Julian Sterling was already waiting for me. The moment I sat down, his eyes fell on my bleeding palms. He frowned instantly and called the barista over to get a first-aid kit. Watching this handsome, powerful man carefully clean and bandage my scratches, I smiled bitterly. “Grandpa, your judgment was always better than mine.” Just like Ethan’s “probation period.” I had given him three years to prove himself. He failed. So, it was time for me to start a new chapter. At the hospital, Ethan knew deep down that Chloe had faked the fall. But he couldn’t let me challenge his authority. In his mind, rules were rules, and they couldn’t be broken. He stared at his phone, feeling a strange, hollow anxiety creeping in. He sent me a WhatsApp message: “Do you understand what you did wrong now?” I didn’t reply. Three hours passed. Still no response. Ethan’s heart began to race. A weird feeling of losing control washed over him. Suddenly, a breaking news notification popped up on his phone: “Julian Sterling, heir of the Sterling Group, announces his engagement to Rhiannon Shaw, heiress of the Shaw empire, on March 18th.”

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Because I left my Stanley tumbler on my desk, the newly appointed VP, Gavin, called me out in front of a hundred employees during the all-hands meeting and fined me $100. “How many times do I have to say this? No personal clutters are allowed in the workspace!” He pointed his finger directly at my face. “As the Operations Director, you should set an example. Instead, you violated company culture. That’s a $100 fine and a public warning!” Over a hundred pairs of eyes instantly locked onto me. Some showed sympathy, some gloated, but most were just cold and indifferent, enjoying the drama. I stood up and said calmly, “Gavin, there is no such rule in our employee handbook.” His face instantly turned purple with rage. He slammed his hand on the desk and roared, “There is now! What I say is the rule!” I didn’t argue further. I just sat down in silence. The next day, the company escorted me out of the building on the grounds of “severely failing to align with company culture.” The moment I walked out of the front gates, I dialed a number. “Carter, does your group still need an Operations Director?”

“How many times do I have to say this? We are a top-tier tech company! We are a community of hustlers!” “No personal clutter that has nothing to do with work is allowed in the office! Especially not a hideous tumbler that looks like something my grandfather would use!” Today was the Operations Department’s weekly review. Gavin’s voice boomed through the microphone, echoing across the entire conference room. His chubby finger pointed straight at me. “Chloe, you took the lead in violating our company culture. That’s a $100 fine and a public write-up!” The room fell dead silent. A hundred pairs of eyes locked onto me. Some looked sympathetic, some gloated, but most were just watching the show with cold indifference. I stood up, still holding the printed quarterly data report I was about to present. I looked at the man on the stage. He had only been parachuted into his VP role a month ago, and he knew absolutely nothing about our actual business except how to scream empty motivational slogans. I spoke calmly: “Gavin, I’ve been on medication recently. My doctor specifically ordered me to stay hydrated.” “This tumbler is a medical necessity for me, not clutter.” Gavin clearly didn’t expect me to talk back in public. His face instantly turned a dark, bruised shade of purple. He slammed his fist onto the conference table, making a deafening thud. “A necessity? I think your attitude is the real problem here!” “Our company culture is the absolute law. There is no room for negotiation! You are directly challenging management’s authority!” “Gavin, the company has never had a written policy banning personal water bottles,” I said, making sure every word was crystal clear. “There is now!” he practically shrieked. “What I say is the rule!” A wave of hushed, tense whispering broke out across the room. I didn’t say another word. I just sat down quietly. I knew that arguing further would only embarrass him more. And right now, he was looking for a scapegoat to establish his dominance. I wasn’t going to be his punching bag. As soon as the meeting ended, Valerie, the HR Director, called me into her private office. She was the one who had interviewed me five years ago. She had watched me climb the ranks from a junior specialist to the Operations Director. We had always had a great relationship. But today, the warmth on her face was completely gone. “Chloe, what is wrong with you?” “Arguing with Gavin in front of everyone? Don’t you know he was personally headhunted by the CEO?” She handed me a cup of coffee, her tone carrying a hint of reprimand. “Valerie, I was just stating facts. Plus, that rule is literally nowhere in our official culture deck.” I didn’t touch the coffee. My stomach was throbbing slightly from the stress. Valerie sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Chloe, do you still not get it? What do you think company culture actually is?” “Is it what’s written on those slides? No! Company culture is whatever the executives say it is!” “If Gavin says a tumbler doesn’t align with our hustle spirit, then it doesn’t.” She paused, her eyes turning sharp and calculating. “Gavin already came to see me. He said your attitude is highly toxic, your thinking is rigid, and you’re failing to keep up with the company’s fast-paced growth.” “He told me to have a ‘serious talk’ with you.” My heart sank. This was no longer about a water bottle. They were setting up a paper trail to push me out. “Valerie, I’ve served this company for five years. My department generates over 40% of the company’s total annual revenue.” “My capability and my metrics speak for themselves. Everyone knows it.” “And now you’re going to dismiss all of my hard work over a water bottle?” My voice turned cold. “Competence is one thing, attitude is another,” Valerie said in a completely detached, corporate tone. “Right now, the company needs absolute obedience from its hustlers, not demanding veterans who question authority.” “Chloe, let me give you some advice. Go apologize to Gavin, pay the $100 fine, and let this whole thing blow over.” I looked at her. This was the woman who once mentored me, and now she had reduced herself to being the mouthpiece for a toxic new executive. I smiled faintly and stood up. “I get it. Thanks, Valerie.” As I walked out of the meeting room, I saw Sienna, Gavin’s newly hired intern assistant, standing by the door holding a stack of files. When she saw me, a smug, completely undisguised smirk spread across her face. When I got back to my desk, the printed $100 fine notice was already sitting neatly on top of my keyboard. I picked up my Stanley tumbler, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip of warm water. The pain in my stomach eased a bit, but the chill in my chest only grew heavier. It looked like my time drinking from this cup at this desk was coming to an end. I opened my laptop. I didn’t process the fine. Instead, I created a new, encrypted folder on my hard drive. I named it: “Evidence.”

First thing the next morning, a company-wide email was blasted to everyone’s inbox. The subject line was flagged in bright red: “URGENT WARNING: Public Reprimand of Operations Director Chloe for Violating Company Hustle Culture.” In the email, Gavin used the most dramatic, exaggerated language possible, elevating a simple water bottle to a threat against organizational discipline and the company’s very survival. At the bottom, he had attached a screenshot of the $100 fine and a picture of my employee ID badge. It was nothing short of a public execution. The moment I stepped into the office, I felt countless complicated stares locked onto me. Some people immediately looked down, pretending to be busy. Others threw me quick, sympathetic glances from a distance. But Sienna didn’t even bother to hide her malice. She walked right up to me, her voice loud enough for the entire floor to hear. “Oh, Chloe, where is your pretty little tumbler today?” “Gavin said true hustlers should only drink iced double-espressos to keep their brains sharp. We wouldn’t want to make stupid, low-level mistakes like “some” people do.” I ignored her completely and walked straight to my desk. But the tumbler that had kept me company for years was gone. In its place sat a single bottle of ice-cold mineral water. I looked up and saw Sienna standing not far away, grinning at me. Without saying a word, I picked up the ice-cold bottle, walked over to the breakroom trash can, and threw it right in. As I walked back to my desk, I saw Gavin standing right behind my chair. His face was so dark it looked like a thunderstorm was brewing. “Chloe, it seems yesterday’s lesson wasn’t enough for you,” he said coldly. “Gavin, I just don’t like ice-cold water,” I replied calmly. “Fine. Very good,” he nodded. He turned around and announced to the entire department: “Starting today, all project proposals from the Operations Department must first be compiled by Sienna before being submitted to me for final approval.” “Chloe, your job will be to guide her and do the quality check.” Everyone froze. This was an incredibly insulting arrangement. I was the Operations Director. Sienna was just a college intern. And now, he was making an intern my gatekeeper, while I was relegated to being her back-end support. He had effectively stripped me of all my actual authority, turning me into a useless, powerless figurehead. My team members exchanged looks of outrage, but none of them dared to speak up. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Understood, Gavin.” The calmer I behaved, the uglier Gavin’s expression became. He was clearly baiting me, waiting for me to explode so he’d have a legitimate reason to fire me on the spot. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Over the next few days, I became a ghost in my own department. Sienna strutted around, taking over all my responsibilities. When she ran into things she didn’t understand, she would rather ask a junior associate than ask me. Gavin had given her massive authority, even letting her handle some of our smaller client accounts directly. Meanwhile, my daily routine consisted of “guiding” and “checking.” Every time Sienna handed me a proposal, I reviewed it meticulously. I used a red font to highlight every single logical loophole and data error, wrote down detailed suggestions for improvement, and sent it back to her. Every single time, she would just glance at it with annoyance, bypass my notes, and send her original, flawed draft straight to Gavin. Naturally, Gavin didn’t bother to read my redlines either. He would just sign off on whatever she gave him with a flourish of his pen. I screenshotted every single proposal I revised, alongside Sienna’s original draft and the final version Gavin approved. I saved them all into my encrypted folder. I also noticed that Gavin had started frequently scheduling private meetings with Carter, the head of Lumina Group—our biggest VIP client. But every time, Gavin would exclude me from the calendar invite using “executive alignment” as an excuse, taking only Sienna with him. I had worked with Carter for years. We had long transitioned from business partners to close personal friends. He knew about my health issues, and he respected my professional capabilities. On the night after Gavin took Sienna to meet Carter for the first time, Carter sent me a message on Snapchat. “Chloe, what is going on with your company?” “This new VP is an absolute clown. He came in preaching about some toxic ‘wolf culture’ and demanded we triple our annual budget. He actually threatened to cut our prime ad placements if we didn’t.” “And that assistant he brought? She couldn’t even get our core KPIs from last month right.” “Since you weren’t there, I didn’t agree to a single thing.” Looking at the message, I smiled. Everything was going exactly as I expected. I typed back: “Carter, we’re going through some management shifts. It’s a long story.” “Please bear with it for now. Let’s keep our specific project discussions private. Don’t leave any official paper trails on the company channels.” “Got it,” he replied. I took a screenshot of that conversation too, saving it securely. I knew Gavin was trying to dig up my roots. He wanted to steal my biggest client and then kick me out. But the more rushed and desperate he was, the more mistakes he would make. All I had to do was wait quietly and collect every single piece of dirt he dropped.

Gavin’s attacks only grew more aggressive. A week later, under the guise of “departmental workflow optimization,” he forcibly disbanded the core project team I had built from scratch. My key team members—highly capable strategists I had personally trained—were scattered and reassigned to dead-end, peripheral projects. In their place, Gavin brought in a few of his cronies from other departments. Along with Sienna, they formed a so-called “Hustle Vanguard Team” to take over all our high-value accounts. The office atmosphere became incredibly tense. The veteran employees were terrified into silence, while the new hires walked around like they owned the place. Gavin had turned the entire Operations Department into a toxic mess. That afternoon, Valerie called me in again. “Chloe, here is your performance review,” she said, sliding a document across the table. Her face was completely expressionless. “For the past month, your performance rating is a D.” “According to company policy, consecutive D ratings give the company the right to terminate your employment contract unilaterally without severance.” I took the review sheet, glanced at it, and let out a soft laugh. The reasons listed were laughably absurd. “Lacks team collaboration spirit; failed to integrate into the new team culture.” — Well, he was the one who disbanded my team. “Low output and efficiency; failed to meet project deadlines.” — He was the one who stripped me of all my projects. “Poor client relationship management, leading to negative feedback from key clients.” — This was likely his attempt to blame me for Carter’s dissatisfaction with him. Every single point was a fabricated charge. And in the manager’s signature box, there was a sloppy, arrogant signature: “Gavin.” “Valerie, I don’t accept this review,” I said, sliding the document back. “I’ve been completely iced out of my duties. How am I supposed to produce any performance metrics?” “And if we’re talking about client relationships, I can call Carter from Lumina Group right now. He can tell you himself who he actually has ‘negative feedback’ about.” Valerie’s eyes flickered. She clearly knew this review wouldn’t hold up in a real legal dispute. She lowered her voice. “Chloe, don’t be naive. This is just a formality.” “Gavin is dead set on getting rid of you. Even if you take this to the CEO, it won’t change anything.” “I called you in today because I want to offer you an easy way out.” “And what way is that?” “Resign voluntarily,” she said, tapping her fingers on the desk. “If you leave now, I can write you a decent reference for your background check so it won’t ruin your next job hunt.” “The company will also pay out your salary for this month.” “But if you insist on making a scene and get fired, it will look terrible on your record, and you won’t get a single penny of severance. Why put yourself through that?” I looked at her, the very last shred of respect I had for her vanishing completely. “Valerie, I’ve been here for five years. I poured my sweat and tears into this place. Is this really how the company treats its loyal employees?” “The company is not a charity,” Valerie replied coldly. “Those who can’t keep up get left behind. Those are Gavin’s exact words.” I nodded, picked up the absurd performance review, and stood up. “I understand. But if you want me to resign voluntarily? Absolutely not.” “If you want to fire me, do it legally. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the Department of Labor.” With that, I turned around and walked out. Back at my desk, I scanned the ridiculous review and uploaded it to my encrypted folder. The folder was getting incredibly full. That night, Carter messaged me again, his tone incredibly frustrated. “Chloe, that idiot Gavin tried to go behind your back. He wanted us to sign a contract addendum promising us ‘S-tier’ ad placements for next month.” “In exchange, he demanded a $1 million advance payment.” My heart skipped a beat. “Did you sign it?” “Of course not! I’m not stupid.” “S-tier placements are your company’s core strategic assets. They’ve been fully booked for the second half of the year.” “How on earth was he going to give them to me?” “I bet he’s trying to scam us for an advance payment to cover up some financial deficit he created.” “When I rejected him on the spot, he actually threatened me! He said if we don’t sign, he’ll unilaterally terminate our existing contract!” My fingers flew across my screen: “Carter, stay calm. Do not break off with them just yet.” “Play along for now. Tell him you need some time to think it over.” “Also, record your phone calls with him and send me the digital copy of that contract addendum.” “Easy. But seriously, what are you waiting for? This company is trash. You need to get out!” “Don’t worry, Carter. Soon.”

The final showdown came much faster than I expected. Three days later, Valerie and Gavin called me into the executive boardroom. This time, they didn’t even bother to pretend. A printed “Termination of Employment Notice” was pushed in front of me by Valerie. “Chloe, after careful consideration by management, due to your inability to meet the requirements of your role and your severe mismatch with company culture, we are officially terminating your employment, effective immediately.” “Please pack your things and complete the exit process by the end of today.” Valerie read the notice in a flat, robotic voice, as if she were reading a weather report. Gavin leaned back in his leather chair, arms crossed, wearing the smug grin of a victor. The contempt in his eyes was completely bare. I picked up the notice. The reasons listed were identical to the fake performance review—hollow and aggressive. Most importantly, under the severance package section, it read: “$0.” They were trying to cheat me out of my legal severance pay. “On what grounds?” I looked up, looking at them calmly. “How exactly am I unable to meet the role requirements? And where is the proof of my ‘mismatch’ with company culture? Please show me the specific policy violations.” Gavin sneered. “Proof? Chloe, are you out of your mind?” “If I say you don’t fit, you don’t fit!” “This company doesn’t keep lazy people around, and we definitely don’t keep people with toxic attitudes!” “Gavin, which exact policy in our handbook bans personal tumblers?” “I’ve read the entire manual, and I couldn’t find a single word about it.” I stared directly into his eyes. Valerie tapped the table, losing her patience. “Chloe, there’s no point in dragging this out. The company has the right to terminate employees based on overall performance.” “Sign the paper, go to finance to get your final paycheck, and let’s make this easy for everyone.” “What if I refuse to sign?” I challenged. “Refuse?” Gavin stood up, walked over, and leaned over the table, looming over me. “Chloe, don’t forget that all your client contacts and project data are owned by the company.” “If you try to make trouble, I personally guarantee you will never get another job in this industry.” “I will make sure every HR director in the city knows you were fired for incompetence and a toxic attitude.” An open threat. Looking at his greasy, arrogant face, I suddenly laughed. I slowly pulled out my phone and connected it to the boardroom’s wireless projector. “Gavin, Valerie, before I sign anything, there are a few things I’d love for you to see.” I tapped the play button. The screen lit up, displaying my encrypted folder named “Evidence.” The first file was an audio recording of my first private conversation with Valerie. Valerie’s voice filled the room, crystal clear: “What do you think company culture actually is? Company culture is whatever the executives say it is!” Valerie’s face drained of all color instantly. The second file showed a side-by-side comparison of every single proposal I had corrected, Sienna’s original drafts, and the final versions Gavin had approved. Every single error was highlighted in bright red. One of the approved proposals had a misplaced decimal point that directly caused the company to lose nearly $30,000 in ad-distribution fees. Gavin’s breathing began to grow heavy and shallow. The third file contained screenshots of all my chats and emails with Carter from Lumina Group. It included his glowing praise of my work, alongside his utter disgust with Gavin and Sienna. The fourth file was the PDF scan of the illegal contract addendum Gavin had tried to push onto Carter, accompanied by a ten-minute audio recording of Gavin threatening him. The blood rushed out of Gavin’s face. He pointed a trembling, terrified finger at me. “You… how dare you—” I ignored him and played the last file. It was my complete performance history over the past five years. Except for the one Gavin had fabricated, I had received straight A’s and S’s for nineteen consecutive quarters. There was also a line graph showing the massive, skyrocketing revenue growth I had brought in since taking over the Lumina Group account. The red upward line felt like a physical slap to their faces. “Now,” I turned off the projector, stood up, and looked at the two shell-shocked people in front of me. “Let’s talk about who is “actually” incompetent here, and who is causing massive financial losses to this company.” I picked up the termination letter and, under their horrified stares, slowly ripped it right down the middle. “I want my full severance package, not a single penny less.” “And I demand a company-wide email from Gavin, publicly apologizing to me for his groundless accusations and workplace harassment.” “Otherwise, all of this evidence will be sitting in the CEO’s inbox, and on the desk of the Department of Labor, in exactly thirty minutes.” “I’m sure Carter would also be more than happy to file a lawsuit for attempted commercial fraud and cooperate with the police.” The conference room fell into a deathly, suffocating silence. Gavin slumped back into his chair, sweat soaking through his collar. Valerie kept her head down, not even possessing the courage to look me in the eye. Finally, her voice trembled as she spoke. “Fine… we agree.” The next day, the company indeed blasted a public apology email to the entire staff. It was corporate and brief, but it was in black and white. My full severance package cleared in my bank account that afternoon. I packed up my Stanley tumbler and walked out of the building without looking back. Holding my box of personal belongings, I stood on the sidewalk and took a long, deep breath of fresh air. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was Carter calling. “Chloe, I heard you’re out? Congratulations on escaping that toxic dump!” He sounded incredibly pleased. “Word travels fast,” I laughed. “Cut the crap,” Carter said. “I told you before, my group is launching a brand-new consumer brand called Nova, and we’re going to compete directly with your ex-employer.” “Everything is set up. The only thing we’re missing is a brilliant Operations Director to run the show.” “Are you interested in joining me? Let’s build something great together.” I gripped my phone tightly. “Carter, give me a few days to settle things here, and I’m all yours.”

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Six years ago, I nearly died on the operating table giving birth to my daughter. Today, my husband let her call the biological heiress of my adoptive family “Mommy” in front of a crowded room. I couldn’t take it. I grabbed Ethan Vance by his collar, my voice trembling. “Why?” “She is my daughter, Ethan! Not Clara’s!” Ethan laughed disdainfully, brushing my hands off his chest. “I promised you that only you would give birth to my children, Naomi. But Clara wanted a child of her own so badly. I had no choice but to give Lily to her.” “Why are you making a scene? Let Lily choose for herself.” My heart shattered. I knelt down, trying to pull Lily into my arms. “Sweetheart, come with Mommy. Let’s go home.” To my horror, Lily pushed me away with all her might, her eyes filled with anger. “Go away! I like Aunt Clara! She smells so good, and she’s pretty and rich. I want her to be my mommy!” “I don’t want you to be my mommy anymore!” I stumbled backward and fell hard onto the floor. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Fine, Lily. I don’t want you either.”

Hearing my words, Lily froze for a second. She seemed to realize, in her childish way, that I had said something incredibly serious. Just as she made a move to run back to me, Clara Montgomery pulled her into a tight hug. “Really?” Clara smiled, looking down at her. “I would love to be your mommy, Lily.” “But a girl can only have one mommy. Since you chose me, you can’t call your old mom ‘Mommy’ anymore. Have you made up your mind?” Lily’s gaze darted back and forth between Clara and me. Finally, she made her choice. She turned around and hugged Clara’s leg tightly, her voice sweet and cooing. “I like you, Clara. Please be my mommy, okay?” “The bad woman won’t be able to stop us from seeing each other anymore. I want to eat lots of candy, and I want to wear those expensive princess dresses. Mommy, will you take me to Disney World? I want to go every single day!” Clara shot me a triumphant, smug look. She bent down, stroking Lily’s hair. “Of course, sweetie. Mommy has plenty of money. You can have whatever you want.” Lily cheered, wrapping her arms around Clara’s neck and planting a sweet kiss on her cheek. From beginning to end, she never looked back at me, still sitting on the cold floor. I didn’t say another word. Enduring the sharp, throbbing pain in my ankle, I forced myself to stand up. I took one last look at Lily. Then, limping, I walked out of the room. Seeing my completely broken state, Ethan ran out after me. He caught my arm and chuckled softly. “Are you really that upset?” “She’s just a kid. Is this necessary? Lily will have everything she ever wanted with Clara. She’ll live a much better life.” “If it bothers you that much, we can always just make another baby later.” Hearing this, my blood boiled. I violently wrenched my arm out of his grip, raised my hand, and slapped him hard across the face. My voice cracked, tears finally spilling over. “I carried Lily for ten whole months, Ethan! I endured severe morning sickness, swelling, and sleepless nights. To keep her safe, I took over a hundred hormone shots. My arms and stomach were covered in bruises and needle marks!” “When I gave birth, I had a massive hemorrhage. The doctors asked you to choose between saving me or the baby. I fought with my life to bring her into this world!” “Ethan, did you and your mother want a child so badly just so you could discard me like trash?” Ethan was caught off guard by the slap. He rubbed his jaw, looking annoyed, completely unable to understand my pain. “I did this for your own good, Naomi.” “You’re just the adopted daughter of the Montgomerys. Your status has always been awkward. I took a massive amount of pressure from my family just to marry you. This is perfect. Lily recognizes Clara as her mother. The Vances are happy, the Montgomerys are happy.” “Every problem is solved. Why are you still throwing a tantrum?” A tantrum? His casual words were driving me insane. “She is my daughter!” I screamed at him, my voice hoarse. “For the past five years, every time you had a free moment, you took her to Clara. You let her call you Dad and Clara Mom. Then what am I? A free nanny? A free surrogate?!” Ethan grew impatient. He frowned, looking at me with irritation. “Then what do you want now?” “Lily is staying with Clara. If you can accept it, stay. If you can’t…” “Let’s get a divorce,” I said quietly, cutting him off. Ethan froze. He snapped his head up, staring at me in utter shock. I looked right back into his eyes, making sure he heard every syllable. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.”

Ethan let out a cold, angry laugh. Looking at my indifferent face, he nodded through gritted teeth. “Fine! Fine!” “Naomi Miller, you’ve got guts! You want a divorce? Fine. We’ll go sign the papers tomorrow morning. And you can pack your bags and get out of my house tonight!” “Don’t ever expect to see Lily again! You brought this on yourself!” I only nodded blankly. After all… Lily probably didn’t want to see me either. Ethan drove like a maniac, speeding all the way back to our villa. He dragged out a battered, half-empty suitcase from God-knows-where and threw it at my feet. Standing by the doorframe, he watched me coldly. “Pack. I’m going to watch you pack every single thing.” “You wanted this divorce. Go on, go back to your pathetic, poor life!” “But don’t you dare take a single penny’s worth of stuff from this house!” I looked at Ethan and shook my head, amused by his pettiness. Even if he hadn’t said it, I had no intention of taking anything. For the past ten years, I knew Ethan loved me, but I also knew he secretly looked down on my adopted status. When I married him, I willingly signed a prenuptial agreement. I never cared about his family’s money. Right in front of him, I packed a few cheap, casual clothes. The suitcase wasn’t even half full when I zipped it up. I stood up and walked out. As I passed the living room, Clara was just walking through the front door, holding Lily’s hand. Lily looked exhausted from playing. In her arms was a brand-new, luxury designer doll—the kind of expensive toy I could never afford to buy her. Clara took one look at my suitcase and Ethan’s furious face behind me. She understood immediately. A smug smile played on her lips, and she asked mockingly, “It’s so late. Where are you going, Naomi?” Before I could say the word ‘divorce,’ Ethan stepped forward and grabbed my suitcase. He forced a weary smile. “It’s nothing. She’s just throwing a little fit. She wants to stay at her old apartment in the city for a while.” “Let her go. She’ll get over it in a few months.” I didn’t argue. Lily was still here. Even if she didn’t want me as her mother, discussing a divorce in front of a child was still something I wanted to avoid. Clara nodded, giving Lily a subtle look. Lily got the hint immediately. She wrapped her arms around Ethan’s leg, whining. “No, Daddy, let her go by herself.” “You promised you’d tell me a new story tonight. You can’t break your promise! You’re a bad daddy! A liar!” Seeing Ethan not responding right away, Lily screwed up her face, getting ready to throw a tantrum. I sighed softly. I took the suitcase back from Ethan’s hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t stay where I’m not wanted.” “I’ll have Thomas drive me. Thank you.” With that, I dragged my suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. Behind me, I could hear Ethan lowering his voice to soothe Lily. By the time he ran outside, I was already in the car, pulling away. My phone buzzed twice in my hand. [Naomi, if you dare leave tonight, don’t ever think about coming back!] [Tomorrow at 9:30 AM, meet me at the City Hall courthouse!] I glanced at the screen and shut it off. I looked at our driver. “Thomas, don’t go to the city apartment.” “Please take me to the hotel near the airport instead.” Thomas looked at me through the rearview mirror, confused. “Are you taking a trip, ma’am?” I watched the villa shrink into a tiny dot in the distance. I smiled bitterly. “Thomas, don’t call me ma’am anymore. Ethan and I are getting divorced.” “I think… I’m going back to my hometown.”

After checking into the hotel, I opened my phone to book a flight. Miami wasn’t a massive international hub, so there weren’t many direct flights. The earliest one available was in three days. That was fine. It gave me enough time to sign the divorce papers with Ethan tomorrow. The next morning, the traffic on the way to the courthouse was terrible. I arrived five minutes late. Ethan’s call came through immediately, his voice filled with impatient rage. “I don’t see you at the entrance. What, are you regretting it now? Don’t want to divorce?” “Even if you regret it, you didn’t have to stand me up! Naomi, if you really want to back out, just accept Clara as Lily’s mom. We can still—” “I’m sorry, I got caught in traffic,” I interrupted him, walking faster. “Turn around. I’m right behind you. Let’s go in and get this done.” Ethan turned around. Seeing me hurrying toward him with a folder of documents, the rest of his words died in his throat. I pulled out my ID and the marriage certificate. “Let’s go. We’ll lose our spot if we don’t hurry.” During the entire process, I was completely calm. Even when the papers were finalized and stamped, I felt absolutely nothing. On the other hand, Ethan looked like he wanted to say something but kept stopping himself. Seeing me opening my Uber app, he finally muttered, “Do you need a ride…” “Ethan!” “Daddy!” Two voices cut him off. We looked up. Clara was walking toward us, holding Lily’s hand. I kept my head down and tapped ‘Confirm Ride’ on my phone. Lily ran over, looking up at Ethan with a bright smile. “Mommy took me shopping, and we saw your car outside! She said you might be here!” “Take me to the amusement park, Daddy! You promised me during the bedtime story last night!” Clara walked up, smiling sweetly at Ethan. “Take her, Ethan. I already spoke to your parents. I told them we went out together to discuss a new business project. Lily has been looking forward to this for weeks. You can’t break your promise.” Then, she turned to me, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Naomi, is everything finalized? If you ever need any help in the future, just let me know.” “After all, you did take care of Lily for a few years.” I ignored the mockery in her tone and replied coolly, “Yes, it’s done.” Clara pursed her lips, clearly annoyed by my lack of reaction. She nudged Lily. “Lily, Aunt Naomi is leaving.” “Say goodbye to Aunt Naomi.” Lily looked down, suddenly quiet. Clara’s eyes narrowed, her voice taking on a manipulative edge. “Lily, a polite girl gets to go to the toy store. If you don’t say goodbye, Mommy won’t buy you that pretty dress or take you to the park.” Lured by Clara’s promise, Lily slowly raised her head and shot me a guilty, fleeting look. “M-Mom… Aunt Naomi, goodbye.” To be honest, I thought I would be heartbroken. But at that moment, all I felt was a profound sense of relief. It was like a terminal patient who couldn’t take painkillers, suffering through six long years of agony, finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. “Goodbye, Lily.” Ethan was shocked by my coldness. He glared fiercely at Clara, then bent down and grabbed Lily’s shoulders. “Lily! What are you talking about?!” he snapped. “Aunt Naomi? She is your mother! How many times have I told you, they are both your mothers!” Ethan was trying to force Lily to apologize, but his harsh tone only terrified her. She opened her mouth, trembling, tears welling up in her eyes. I just smiled and waved my hand. “My ride is here. I have to go. Let her call me whatever she wants.” “She’s right. She should call me Aunt.”

With that, I opened the car door and slid into the back seat. Right before the Uber pulled away, I heard Ethan shouting in anger, but the closed window muffled his voice. I felt a slight urge to look back, but the roadside hedges soon blocked my view. Forget it. I was leaving anyway. What was there to look at? From now on, they had nothing to do with me. When I got back to the hotel, I took a long nap. When I woke up, I opened Snapchat and saw that Clara had posted several updates on her Instagram story. [Shopping with my little princess! She said she loved every single dress, so we bought them all!] [Capturing sweet family moments! With you guys by my side, every day is a fairytale.] The photos were of Lily, Ethan, and Clara—a perfect little family. They were posing inside a high-end designer boutique and a luxury indoor theme park. I glanced at them and swiped away. The next day, more photos flooded my feed. In the morning, Ethan even sent me a photo of the three of them eating breakfast together, only to quickly delete it a second later. I rolled my eyes. How pathetic. Lily was an incredibly picky eater, and Ethan was even worse. In those photos, most of the food on the table was stuff they absolutely hated. I remembered how, for the past six years, I had spent hours every day researching recipes to cook for them. But if a single dish wasn’t perfect, Ethan would frown and put down his fork, and Lily would push her bowl away, crying that it tasted “disgusting.” Yet here they were, smiling widely for Clara’s camera in front of food they despised. I suddenly realized. They weren’t unhappy with the food. They were unhappy with the person who made it. My finger hovered over the screen. I put both Ethan and Clara on my blocked list. I should have done this a long time ago. But I never expected that just as I was checking out of the hotel, I would get a frantic call from Lily’s preschool. The teacher’s voice was shaking with terror. “Lily’s mom! There’s a fire!” “We’ve set up an inflatable rescue mat on the ground floor, but Lily is terrified of heights! She refuses to jump! The activity room door is jammed, and the fire is spreading to the third floor! The firefighters are on their way, but you need to get here right now!” My heart stopped. Without a second thought, I rushed out of the hotel and hailed a cab. Fortunately, the airport was close to the preschool. By the time I arrived, the building was engulfed in thick, black smoke. Clara was standing safely on the lawn, trembling. The school principal was shaking her arm, pleading, “Ma’am! When you ran out, why didn’t you bring Lily with you?!” “If we wait for the firefighters to break down the door, the debris might hit her. Please, put on this protective gear and go in with us. You can talk to her and guide her to jump onto the mat. It’s completely safe!” Clara violently slapped the principal’s hand away, her voice screeching in panic. “Are you insane?! It’s a fire! Of course I was scared! If I had tried to carry her, I wouldn’t have made it out alive!” “Aren’t the firefighters coming? Why do I have to go back in?! Lily isn’t deaf, just yell at her from here! Why should I go in? What if I get burned?!” She was screaming so loudly that Lily, crying at the third-floor window, heard every word. The little girl wailed in despair, “Mommy! I want Mommy! Mommy, save me!” But Clara only looked up, yelling back in frustration, “Stop crying!” “The rescue mat is right there! Just jump! You won’t die!” “Stop calling me! I don’t want to get burned to death!” The principal was at a loss. She prepared to put on the heavy fire-resistant jacket herself, but I snatched it out of her hands. “Lily’s mom! You’re here!” “We can’t wait for the firefighters,” I said, throwing the heavy gear over my shoulders. “The door might be fireproof, but the curtains aren’t. It’s windy today. If the wind blows the flames inside, the whole room will go up. She won’t even have a chance to jump.” As I spoke, a gasp erupted from the crowd. “The curtains! The curtains are on fire!” I looked up. Embers had caught the wind-blown curtains hanging outside the window. They were burning rapidly. There was no time. Before I could even zip up the protective suit, I rushed headfirst into the burning building. I had been to this preschool countless times. Even through the suffocating smoke, I navigated my way to the third-floor activity room. The door was completely jammed. I had to go through the window from the adjacent balcony. “Lily, move away! Hide under the red table! Stay away from the curtains!” “O-Okay, Mommy!” I took a few steps back, took a deep breath, and threw my entire body against the glass window. The glass shattered instantly. I crashed onto the hard floor, pieces of glass tearing through my protective suit and slicing deep into my back. I could feel the warm blood instantly soaking through my shirt. But I didn’t have time to scream. I scrambled to my feet. I scooped Lily up from the corner and rushed back to the window. Just as I was about to jump, the burning curtain blew inward, heading straight for Lily’s face. She shrieked in terror, “Mommy! Fire!” There was no way to dodge it. I spun around, using my own back as a shield. The moment the flames licked my back, a wave of agonizing heat nearly knocked me unconscious. I gritted my teeth, held Lily tightly, and jumped out of the window. We crashed heavily onto the inflatable rescue mat. Lily had already fainted from sheer terror in my arms. I quickly handed her over to the school nurse. By then, the fire trucks had finally arrived, and the firefighters rushed to extinguish the flames. I pulled off the ruined protective gear. The burns weren’t too bad, but the deep cuts on my back from the shattered glass were bleeding profusely. After the paramedic quickly bandaged me up, I walked away. I had a flight to catch. By the time Ethan arrived, the fire was mostly put out. Lily was safe, though still unconscious from shock. Ethan let out a breath of relief, but when he heard the teachers explaining how I had lunged through a window into a burning room to save Lily, his heart leaped into his throat. He looked around frantically, shouting my name. “Naomi! Naomi! Where are you?!” A nearby parent pointed toward the road. “Mr. Vance, I saw Naomi get into a cab. She probably went back to her apartment.” Ethan immediately ran to his car. He drove toward my apartment while calling Thomas on FaceTime. “Naomi is hurt! She has burns and deep cuts! Call our family doctor and tell him to meet us at her apartment right now!” Thomas sounded shocked. “Mr. Vance, she’s not at the apartment!” “After she left the villa, she had me drop her off at a hotel near the airport. She said she was divorcing you and going back to her hometown.” “Hurt like that… she must have gone straight to the airport!”

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### Without my consent, my fiancé, Ethan, let his late mentor’s daughter move into the home we were supposed to share after marriage. I didn’t scream. I just quietly packed the bags I had prepared weeks ago and called the man I had rejected so many times before. “You said you wanted to take me away. Does that offer still stand?” This time, I left Ethan without looking back. We met again five years later at an annual industry symposium. I was the keynote speaker presenting the final award, and Ethan was this year’s recipient. When the host announced my name, the entire hall fell silent. I took the trophy, walked up to Ethan, and handed it to him with a polite smile. Ethan froze. His eyes swirling with an overwhelming storm of emotions. But to me, he was just a stranger. “Congratulations, Professor Vance.” It took him a long time to finally find his voice and call my name. “Hazel… where have you been all these years?” I offered a polite smile. “Getting married.” …… My tone was cold and distant, the kind of voice you’d use with a stranger you just bumped into on the street. But inside, my heart was a chaotic mess. Ethan and I had started dating in college. After graduation, we naturally got engaged. After our engagement, we both threw ourselves into our careers. We were constantly busy and rarely saw each other. I never thought it was an issue—until he started constantly bringing up Chloe, the daughter of his former PhD advisor. Ethan never acknowledged our relationship in public, and he never allowed me to mention it either. Yet, he let Chloe hold his arm and act cute with him in front of everyone. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I thought he was just looking out for his late mentor’s daughter. Until my birthday, when he stood me up to help Chloe take her dog to the vet. I was furious and demanded a breakup right then and there. Ethan, who usually kept his emotions locked away, fell to his knees. He cried, begging me not to leave him. “Hazel, I swear I don’t feel anything for her!” “I only look after her because her father was my mentor. He did so much for my career.” “Please believe me. Don’t leave me, okay?” Remembering all the good times we had shared, I softened. I accepted his apology. But after that, it happened again and again. Ethan would abandon me for Chloe over and over. I was foolish enough to keep making excuses for him, telling myself it was just out of respect for his late mentor. Until his birthday. I came home early, wanting to surprise him at our new townhouse. We had agreed to celebrate his birthday there together. But when I walked in, Chloe was already there. The sofa we had picked out together was covered in plush toys. Ethan, who had always hated stuffed animals, was holding one in his hands, gently asking Chloe where she wanted to put it. In that second, I forgot how to breathe. It took me several agonizing seconds to snap out of it. I stepped back out of the door. “Why is Chloe in our townhouse?” Ethan brushed it off, completely oblivious to how inappropriate he was being. “Oh, Chloe just started her internship in the city. It’s not safe for a young girl to live alone. Since this place is empty anyway, I told her she could stay here for a while.” Letting her move in? I let out a bitter laugh. “Ethan, that is our future home!” “It’s just temporary. Don’t be so petty, Hazel. She’s my late mentor’s only daughter. What’s the big deal if she stays here?” I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to ask what kind of fiancé lets another young woman move into his marital home. But when I finally opened my mouth, the only words that came out were: “……Never mind.” ###

What right did I have to complain anyway? Ever since Chloe showed up, I had stopped mattering to Ethan. The man who had once promised to love me forever, the man who swore he would never let me suffer, had given all his warmth and affection to Chloe. Whether it was my birthday or our anniversary, Chloe could drag Ethan away with a single Snapchat. I had fought with him. I had cried. But every single time, Ethan’s apologies were so incredibly sincere. He kept telling me that I was the one he loved, and that Chloe was just a responsibility. Time and time again, I backed down because of his sweet words. But today, seeing him let Chloe move into our home, watching her redecorate it, and seeing the tender smile on his face when he looked at her… I could no longer lie to myself. I forced a smile and fled the scene. A few days later, I went back to the townhouse to pack up the rest of my things. As I walked through the lobby, the new concierge stopped me. “Excuse me, ma’am. All visitors need to sign in at the front desk.” This was my townhouse. I was coming to “my own home,” yet I was treated like a guest who needed to register. I took the pen and signed my name, too tired to even feel angry. But a dull ache throbbed in my chest. We had been engaged for three years. As Ethan’s official fiancée, every time I visited him at his university, I was treated like a complete stranger. I had to sign the visitor log every single time. How blind had I been to believe his apologies over and over again? With a completely numb heart, I went back to my office. The email declining my company’s transfer to our London office was sitting in my drafts, unsent. I looked at the screen, staring at the paragraphs of excuses I had written just to stay close to Ethan. I laughed at myself. Without a second thought, I hit delete, typed a simple “I accept,” and clicked send. Once the email was gone, I pulled up my contacts and dialed the number I had rejected so many times before. The call went through almost instantly. I was quiet for a few seconds before speaking softly. “You said you wanted to take me away. Does that offer still stand?” There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by a deep, steady voice. “Always.” Although the decision to leave was made quickly, the paperwork was a headache. My company handled my visa and work transfer, but the joint accounts and assets I shared with Ethan required my personal attention. I went to the bank first, intending to withdraw my portion of the money from our joint savings account and close it. But the bank teller’s response completely blindsided me. “Ms. Hazel, there is no balance left in this joint account.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “What?” Ethan and I had opened this account when we got engaged. We agreed to deposit a set amount of money every month to build our future nest egg. Over three years, it should have accumulated at least eighty thousand dollars. How could there be nothing left? I asked the teller to check where the funds had gone. The teller was very polite. After looking through the records, she gave me a look of deep sympathy. “Ms. Hazel, the funds in this account were transferred last month into another joint account under Mr. Vance’s name and another individual.” The teller couldn’t legally disclose the other person’s name. But I didn’t need her to. I left the bank and immediately called a friend who worked in finance to look into it. Within minutes, the details were sent to my phone. It turned out that two years ago, Ethan had opened a joint account with Chloe behind my back. And all the money from our nest egg had been slowly moved into that account. I didn’t even know what to feel. In that moment, it felt like the entire world had gone dead silent. ###

I floated back to our current apartment like a ghost. I pulled out my keys, but before I could open the door, I heard familiar voices coming from inside. “Ethan, are you sure Hazel won’t be mad that you brought me here?” It was Chloe. Ethan’s voice was incredibly gentle. “She won’t. Hazel is very understanding. She’ll take good care of you.” My hands shook as I unlocked the door. I looked up and saw Ethan and Chloe sitting close together on the living room sofa. When Ethan saw me come in, he barely glanced up. “I have to go on a business trip with my department head for the next few days. The locks at the townhouse haven’t been changed yet, and I don’t feel safe leaving Chloe there alone. So, I brought her here to stay for a while.” “Hazel, while I’m away, please let Chloe sleep in the master bedroom. Make sure she’s taken care of.” He said it so casually, as if he were asking me to water a plant. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and spoke quietly. “Ethan, do you even remember that this is our home?” “You already let her move into our townhouse. And now, you want to hand this place over to her too?” Ethan didn’t even look at me. His voice turned irritated. “Hazel, what are you throwing a tantrum for now?” Chloe gave me a timid, victimized look, her voice trembling. “Ethan, I think Hazel is upset because of me. I should just leave…” Finally, Ethan deigned to look at me. But his eyes were cold, like he was looking at an annoying stranger. “Hazel, you’re a grown woman. Why are you picking on a kid like Chloe?” “A kid?” I laughed bitterly. “Ethan, Chloe is your late mentor’s daughter, not yours. She is twenty-two, not twelve.” “Have you ever seen a twenty-two-year-old ‘kid’?” Ethan’s face went cold. He stood up, shielding Chloe behind him, and glared at me. “Hazel, what is your problem?” I looked past him, locking eyes with Chloe. “My problem, Professor Vance, is that I find it hard to believe you haven’t heard the rumors spreading about you and Chloe all over campus.” Chloe’s eyes flickered, and a faint smirk played on her lips for a fraction of a second. Ethan frowned. “I told you, those are just mindless rumors.” “I only look after Chloe because of her father.” The resentment I had bottled up for years finally exploded. I stepped forward, raising my voice. “Her father again! Ethan, tell me, does looking after your mentor’s daughter mean letting her move into our future home? Letting her redecorate it?!” “What kind of professor abandons his fiancée on her birthday just because a female student calls?!” Ethan’s face turned pale with rage, but he still refused to acknowledge his behavior. “Hazel, shut up! I’ve explained this to you a million times! Do you have to act like a crazy, hysterical bitch and ruin my peace?!” Chloe shrunk behind him, her eyes gleefully mocking me. Yet, her words were perfectly sweet. “Ethan, please don’t fight with Hazel because of me.” “If she doesn’t like me here, I’ll leave. I won’t stay at the townhouse either.” She claimed she wanted to leave, but she didn’t make a single move. She just stared at Ethan with tearful eyes. I lost my patience. I grabbed Chloe’s wrist and dragged her toward the front door. “Fine. I’ll drive you back to your dorm myself right now!” Chloe struggled weakly. Suddenly, she threw her weight backward, pulling me down with her as we both crashed to the floor. Ethan panicked. He rushed forward, lifting Chloe into his arms and holding her close, his voice filled with worry. “Chloe! Are you hurt? Are you okay?” Chloe clung to his chest, shaking her head. “I’m fine. Check on Hazel first. She fell harder than I did.” Ethan looked up at me. But instead of concern, his hand flew through the air, and a sharp slap landed squarely across my face. *Smack.* “Hazel! How can you be so malicious?!” “You’re jealous of a kid! You spread rumors about us, and now you’re physically pushing her!” “If Chloe injured her hands because of you, do you have any idea how that would affect her career?!” My cheek stung, but my heart was completely numb. Seeing how easily he believed her, and how fiercely he protected her, a profound sense of despair washed over me. I didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. “Ethan,” I said, using the wall to pull myself up. “We’re done. Let’s break up.” Ethan froze for a second, then flared up in anger. “Hazel, can you grow up? Stop using breakups to threaten me every time things don’t go your way!” He scooped Chloe up in his arms and walked toward the door. “Since you’re going to be like this, I’ll take Chloe to a hotel.” “Use this time to cool your head. I’ll deal with you when I get back.” *Deal with me when he gets back?* I lowered my eyes, hiding the cold finality in them. Ethan, there is no “when you get back.” We will never have anything to do with each other again. …… Five days later, Ethan returned from his business trip. He was still annoyed about the fight before he left. The more he thought about Hazel’s “petty behavior,” the more resentful he felt. Yet, he had still bought her a designer bag as a peace offering. He took a few deep breaths at the front door, opened it, and placed the gift on the entryway table. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper the other day. I’m sorry.” “But Hazel, I need you to be more mature. Stop throwing fits over nothing.” The apartment remained dead silent. He didn’t get the reply he usually did. Ethan looked around the empty living room, and a sudden, cold panic gripped his chest.

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Three months after I finally walked away from my wealthy benefactor. I accidentally charged a box of ultra-thin condoms to his linked card. He sent a single, sharp text: Is he better than me? I ignored it. But that very night, when I returned to my hotel room on a business trip, a tall, imposing silhouette blocked my path. The man who was supposed to be a thousand miles away. Marcus stood before me, looking windswept and lethal. In bed, he was merciless, driving me to the brink of madness. As I completely fell apart under him, he nipped at my earlobe, his voice low and dangerous. “Does he make you feel like this too?” I bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Deep down, a foolish spark of joy flared at his jealousy. Until the storm subsided, the lust fading from his dark eyes. “Kelly, I’m getting married,” he said, cold and detached. “This is the last time.” 1 I froze. The words felt like a bucket of ice water poured directly over my head. A deep, numbing chill seeped from my scalp down to my toes. Marcus rolled off the bed. A moment later, the sharp hiss of the shower echoed from the bathroom. I lay motionless on the tangled sheets. The harsh glare of the ceiling light made my eyes burn. I couldn’t even remember how we had broken up three months ago. I only remembered the massive argument, the suffocating silence, and how I had impulsively thrown the word over in his face. He hadn’t tried to soothe me. He hadn’t even asked why. He had only looked at me with those cool, unreadable eyes and asked, “Are you sure about this?” I had nodded. Then, without another word, I packed my bags and took a long-term assignment in Chicago. I thought putting distance between us would help clear the lingering fog of heartbreak. I was wrong. For three months, I buried myself in endless work, trying to numb my own mind. Yet the moment the noise quieted down, his image would flood my thoughts, relentless and agonizing. So today, in a moment of pure, desperate madness at a convenience store, I swiped the joint credit card he had never deactivated. I bought a box of ultra-thin condoms. I wanted to see if he still cared. And he had come. He had caught a last-minute flight and driven through the night just to corner me in my hotel room. For a brief, naive moment, I believed we were going to make up. But after the passion cleared, he gave me a death sentence: he was getting married. 2 When Marcus stepped out of the bathroom, he wore nothing but a low-slung towel around his waist. The lean, powerful muscles of his back and shoulders glistened under the dim yellow lights. He walked over to the bed, looking down at my motionless, curled-up form, and let out a soft frown. “Go wash up.” I dragged myself up mechanically, my legs trembling so violently I could barely stand. Before I could fall, he stepped forward, scooped me up effortlessly in his arms, and carried me into the bathroom. It was just like the countless times before. He squeezed the body wash into his palm, rubbing his hands together until a thick lather formed. Then, he gently washed every inch of my skin. His touch was unbelievably tender, as if he were handling a piece of priceless, fragile porcelain. But my chest throbbed so hard I could barely breathe. He rinsed the soap away, shut off the water, and wrapped me in a plush towel. He didn’t say a single word through it all. I stood there, swallowed by the fabric, watching him walk toward the door. “Congratulations.” The word escaped my throat, raspy and hollow. Marcus paused. He turned his head slightly. His brow furrowed, as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “What did you say?” “Congratulations on your wedding.” I forced my lips to curve into a fragile, pathetic smile. Marcus stared at me for several long seconds, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Get some sleep,” he finally said. “I’ll book another room next door.” I was used to it. He was an incredibly light sleeper and hated sharing a bed through the night. Over the past few years, no matter how exhausted I was after we made love, I would always quietly gather my things and retreat to the guest bedroom. 3 By the time I woke up the next morning, bright sunlight was already streaming through the window. I checked my phone: 9:30 AM. There were three unread texts from my colleagues at the media network. “Kelly, where are you?” “Today’s the day the executive director announces your promotion to lead producer!” My heart leaped into my throat. I threw the phone onto the bed and rushed to get ready. Marcus had kept me up until three in the morning, and the ensuing insomnia had stolen another two hours of sleep. My entire body felt as though it had been run over by a semi-truck. I practically threw myself down the stairs and ran out of the lobby, only to stop dead in my tracks. A sleek black Maybach was idling right at the hotel entrance. The window rolled down smoothly, revealing Marcus in the driver’s seat. He wore a charcoal-gray dress shirt today, the sleeves rolled up carelessly to his forearms, exposing the firm, corded muscles of his wrists. He glanced at me. “Get in. I’ll drive you.” My instinct was to refuse. But he had already reached over and popped the passenger door open. After a second of agonizing hesitation, I climbed in. As I pulled the seatbelt across my chest, I deliberately kept my eyes glued to the side. “Just drop me off near the broadcasting station.” He didn’t answer, simply shifting the car into drive. We rode in absolute silence. The only sound was the faint, steady hum of the air conditioner. I stared out the window, watching the city skyline blur past. As the familiar glass facade of the media building came into view, two traffic lights away, I spoke up. “You can pull over right ahead.” Marcus glanced at the road, his speed unchanging. “We’re not there yet.” “I don’t need to be dropped off at the front doors,” I said, biting my inner cheek. “Today is my promotion day. I don’t want people spreading rumors.” He went quiet for a moment. Then, he smoothly brought the car to a halt by the curb. I pushed the door open and forced a polite, professional tone. “Thank you, Mr. Mercer.” Marcus frowned, his eyes darkening. “I prefer it when you call me Marcus.” “You’re getting married. It’s not appropriate anymore.” He didn’t say another word. He simply checked his mirror, hit the gas, and left me in a cloud of exhaust. 4 Fortunately, I wasn’t late. The moment I walked into the station, several colleagues rushed over to congratulate me. “Congrats, Kelly!” “You have to buy us coffee once the official announcement is made!” I smiled warmly. “I’ll do you one better. Dinner is on me.” The bullpen was lively and full of chatter until an assistant tapped my shoulder, telling me the executive director wanted to see me in his office. My chest swelled with excitement as I walked down the corridor. Five years of relentless grinding in this cutthroat city. I was finally going to secure my place. But that short-lived thrill died the moment I stepped inside the director’s office. “Kelly, after a board review, we’ve decided that starting today, Seraphina will take full charge of the Late Night Finance program.” “We’d like you to assist her with the transition.” I stood frozen, my voice trembling. “I’ve built that program from the ground up. Why is it suddenly being handed over to a newcomer who literally just joined the network?” When I first took over Late Night Finance, it was the lowest-rated slot on the network. I had poured my soul into it, turning it into our flagship program. The director gave me a look of mild, patronizing pity. “It’s a decision from the top, Kelly.” Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, he decided to lay his cards on the table. “Seraphina brought a twelve-million-dollar sponsorship package with her.” “That single deal covers our advertising targets for the next decade. If you were in my shoes, who would you choose?” I leaned against the wall, my head spinning. The door clicked open behind me. A young woman dressed in an immaculate designer blazer stepped in. She was strikingly beautiful. She extended a manicured hand. “Hi, I’m Seraphina.” I recognized her instantly. She was Marcus’s childhood sweetheart, the girl who had just returned from Europe. His fiancée. All the scattered pieces in my head snapped into a cruel, perfect picture. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was behind that twelve-million-dollar sponsorship. A bitter, quiet laugh escaped my throat. A couple of years ago, to secure a much smaller sponsorship for my show, I had practically begged Marcus for months just to get a one-million-dollar deal. I had been profoundly grateful for it. Yet for Seraphina, he had signed away twelve million without batting an eye. Twelve million versus one million. I guess I truly was only worth a fraction of her in his eyes. Or maybe, I didn’t even register on his scale at all. 5 I went straight to Marcus’s corporate headquarters. The receptionist recognized me and bypassed security, letting me straight into his private office. Marcus was sitting behind a massive mahogany desk, reviewing a stack of documents. He didn’t even bother to look up. “Something on your mind?” My throat tightened, and I struggled to hold back the tears stinging my eyes. My voice cracked. “There are dozens of slots at the network. Why did you have to let her take mine?” Only then did Marcus raise his eyes. His gaze was entirely flat, devoid of any warmth. “Because she wanted it.” I stared at him, utterly paralyzed. Because she wanted it. With a single sentence, he justified throwing millions of dollars around to clear her path. Because she wanted it, he could effortlessly erase five years of my sweat, tears, and sleepless nights. He knew better than anyone what I had sacrificed for that show. During our peak season, I had worked myself to the point of physical collapse, ending up in the ICU with severe exhaustion. Tears spilled over my cheeks. “Marcus, that’s not fair!” “Kelly,” he interrupted, his tone chillingly level. He set his pen down and leaned back in his leather chair. “If I remember correctly, there were three candidates when you interviewed for that associate position years ago.” “The other two had Ivy League degrees and prestigious journalism backgrounds.” “Do you know why a state-college graduate with zero media experience like you got hired?” While I stood there in stunned silence, he delivered the final blow. “Because I made a one-million-dollar donation to the network, on the sole condition that they hire you.” Marcus stared at me as if I were a minor investment that had run its course. “Kelly, there is no such thing as absolute fairness in this world.” “When you reach my level, then you can come talk to me about fairness.” The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold and hollow. So that was the truth. On the day I received my offer letter, I had sat in my cramped, drafty apartment and cried tears of pure joy, believing my hard work had finally paid off. But it had all been a lie. I don’t remember how I stumbled out of his office. His words felt like a physical assault, stripping away the last shreds of my dignity. I was utterly humiliated, with nowhere left to hide. 6 When I first met Marcus, I was just a struggling, desperate intern. It was at a high-stakes networking dinner. After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere in the private dining room grew thick and predatory. The senior producer sitting next to me let his hand slide under the table, his fingers creeping toward my thigh. My body went rigid with terror. I tried to pull away, but I didn’t dare make a scene and ruin the network’s deal. Choking back my tears, I threw a desperate, pleading look at my team leader, the man who was supposed to be mentoring me. He blinked, registered what was happening, and promptly looked away. That was when Marcus, who had barely spoken a word all night, abruptly stood up. He walked over, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out of my seat. Looking down at my tear-streaked face, he said, “Crying in front of these wolves won’t save you, little girl.” Then, he wrapped his large, warm hand over mine, picking up a heavy glass bottle from the table. A flash of pure, dangerous intent crossed his handsome features. With a sudden, violent motion, he forced my hand down, smashing the bottle squarely over the producer’s head. The crash was deafening. The producer collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain. The room fell into a stunned, breathless silence. Marcus looked down at me, his voice steady and low. “Only this works. Understand?” I stared up at him, completely captivated by the intensity in his dark eyes. The chaotic noise of the room faded into nothing. All I could hear was the frantic, thumping beat of my own heart. So when we met again in the elevator bank weeks later, and he asked me in that cool, detached voice: “Your name is Kelly, right? Are you open to a strictly physical arrangement?” I didn’t hesitate. My life had been a bleak, colorless struggle up to that point. I had never encountered anyone so brilliant, powerful, and utterly mesmerizing. In that moment, my body answered for me. I nodded. From that day on, every encounter ended with a generous transfer to my account, alongside an endless stream of designer bags and jewelry.

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1 After a car accident, Shane developed a rare memory distortion. He forgot me but believed Dana, his longtime admirer, was his ten-year girlfriend. He doted on her while treating me like a desperate stalker. I exhausted myself trying to reach him, clinging to the fact that he was alive. One afternoon, I overheard him speaking with Justin in the stairwell. When Justin worried I would leave if I found out, Shane laughed it off. He admitted Dana was dying and confessed the crash and amnesia were staged to grant her final wish. He planned to blame a medical anomaly later and claim his memory returned. I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, a bitter smile forming. All my sleepless nights researching specialists for his condition had been wasted. I had been trying to cure a lie. I forced my trembling legs to carry me down the stairs. Without a second thought, I tossed the thermal container of chicken broth, which I had simmered on low heat for five hours, straight into the trash can. Ever since Shane’s accident, I had been running myself ragged, trying to show up in his life at every turn, praying he would look at me and remember. I had even swallowed my secular pride and knelt at a local temple, praying to a god I didn’t believe in. And all the while, I was nothing but a nuisance to him, a shameless woman who didn’t know her place. I never imagined the truth could be so ugly. No wonder he had flatly refused to step foot in my hospital’s neurology department. He was simply terrified of being exposed. I wanted to storm back into the stairwell and scream at him, but my pager buzzed. An emergency craniotomy was waiting for me. Pushing my grief aside, I threw on my scrubs and rushed into the operating room. By the time I finally emerged hours later, drained and exhausted, I opened my phone to find a new post on Shane’s social media feed. The caption read: Saying “I love you” at the very peak of the world. In the photo, he and Dana were leaning their heads together, their hands joined to form a perfect heart against the backdrop of a glowing Ferris wheel. Both of them were beaming. I tilted my head back, blinking rapidly to keep the hot tears from falling. Years ago, during our university days, our class had organized a trip to an amusement park. I had begged Shane to ride the Ferris wheel with me, bringing up the old legend that couples who kiss at the very top would stay together forever. He had scoffed, telling me it was a childish, stupid superstition. “We’re graduating medical school, Nora. Leave the fairy tales to the kids.” It turned out he didn’t hate the Ferris wheel. He just hated the idea of riding it with me. I let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, tapped the “like” button on the post, and shoved my phone back into my pocket. Seconds later, a text from Shane flashed across my screen. Unfriend me. My girlfriend is uncomfortable with you being on my list. I stared at the screen, my chest tightening until I could barely breathe. The tears finally spilled over, hot and relentless. What a fiercely protective, perfect boyfriend he was. Dana was two years younger than us. She had fallen for Shane the moment she arrived on campus as a freshman. She was bold, loud, and entirely unapologetic about her feelings. Every day, she showered him with snacks, coffee, and endless flirtatious messages. Back then, I had been deeply hurt by her persistence and asked Shane to block her. I still remembered the arrogant, mocking look on his face. “Nora, can you please have a little faith in your boyfriend? I know where the boundary is. Blocking someone over something so trivial is just childish.” I wiped the tears from my screen and slowly typed a single word: Okay. When I tried to send it, a glaring red exclamation mark appeared. He had already blocked me. I changed out of my scrubs and walked straight to the chief of surgery’s office. “Director Cole, is the spot for the fellowship in London still open? I want to take it.” Director Cole looked up, clearly taken aback. “I thought you wanted to stay here to oversee your boyfriend’s rehabilitation?” I offered a tight, empty smile. “Plans change. Like you always say, a young doctor should put her career first.” 2 Three days later, our former class president, Luke, was getting married. The invitation had arrived months ago, making it impossible to avoid. The thought of facing Shane made my stomach churn, but I couldn’t skip the wedding. I arrived just as the ceremony was about to start, hoping to slip in unnoticed, but fate had other plans. The only vacant seat at the medical school table was directly next to Shane. I took my seat, forcing my face into a mask of pure indifference, though my mind was screaming with the memory of his betrayal. Our former classmates looked back and forth between Dana, who was clinging to Shane’s left arm, and me. Their eyes practically begged for an explanation. “Shane had an accident recently,” I said, keeping my voice light and professional to spare them the awkwardness. “In his mind, Dana is his girlfriend now.” Shane wrapped his arm around Dana’s waist, his voice cold and devoid of any warmth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dana has always been my girlfriend.” A heavy, sympathetic silence settled over the table. Fortunately, the wedding march began, saving us from further conversation. As the newlyweds exchanged rings, one of our more outspoken classmates let out a soft sigh. “Man, I really thought Nora and Shane would be the first of our class to walk down the aisle. I mean, ten years…” Before he could finish, another classmate kicked him sharply under the table. Realizing his blunder, the guy tried to pivot, looking at me with an apologetic grin. “Well, Nora, since you’re single now, how about giving me a chance?” I knew he was just trying to break the tension, so I offered a polite smile and stayed quiet. But Shane suddenly let out a sharp, mocking scoff. “Some people certainly move on quickly. Just a few days ago, you were dropping off homemade broth at my apartment, and now you’re already hunting for your next target. Pathetic.” “At least I’m not a fraud,” I shot back, my voice cutting through the noise of the room. “Playing house with a fake reality is what’s truly pathetic.” Shane’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of panic crossing his features before he fell silent. The atmosphere at the table turned suffocatingly tense. Seeing the shift, Dana tightened her grip on Shane’s arm, shaking it gently. “Shane, don’t be so hard on Nora. It’s my fault anyway. It’s only natural she’s bitter.” “You don’t owe her anything,” Shane murmured, his gaze entirely avoiding mine as he picked up a shrimp and began peeling it for her. My chest ached. In the early days of our relationship, he used to do that for me too. But as the years went on, he grew tired of the little things. The last time I had asked him to peel a shrimp for me, he had snapped. “Do you not have hands, Nora? If you want to eat, peel it yourself. If not, don’t eat.” It turned out he hadn’t grown tired of the gesture. He had just grown tired of me. My throat burned with unshed tears. To keep from breaking down in front of everyone, I pushed my chair back and excused myself to the restroom. After splash of cold water on my face, I composed myself and walked out, only to find Dana blocking the corridor. Her face was twisted into a smug, victorious grin. “Nora, Shane belongs to me now. Do us both a favor and stop showing your face around him.” “Then you should have kept him at home today,” I replied coldly. “These are my friends and my colleagues. I am not abandoning my life for a man.” I looked at her, thinking of Shane’s words: Dana is dying. Looking at her vibrant, spiteful face, she didn’t look like someone on the brink of death. Still, as a doctor, I knew how cruel terminal illnesses could be. Despite my dislike for her, I didn’t want to engage with a dying patient. I took a step to bypass her. But Dana suddenly glanced over my shoulder, a sudden, vicious gleam flashing in her eyes. Without warning, she raised her hand and slapped herself hard across the cheek, then began violently tearing at her own hair. “Nora, please! I’m sorry! I know it’s my fault, but I truly love him!” I stared at her in utter disbelief. Before I could process the sheer absurdity of her performance, a furious, familiar voice shattered the air. 3 “Nora! What the hell are you doing?” Shane came running down the hall. He pushed me aside to cradle Dana, glaring at me with eyes full of pure hatred. “Nora, who gave you the right to lay a hand on my girlfriend?” The realization of Dana’s trap hit me. It was a scene straight out of a cheap soap opera, but it was happening to me. Anger flared hot in my chest. “You honestly think I hit her?” I turned to Dana, my voice dripping with ice. “Did I touch you?” Dana shrank back into Shane’s chest, trembling like a frightened rabbit. “No, Shane, she didn’t… it’s fine.” “Nora, apologize to her right now,” Shane snarled. I looked at him, feeling a profound, deep-seated disgust. Without another word, I turned to leave. But Shane lunged forward, grabbing my arm in a tight grip. “Are you deaf, Nora? Is saying sorry that difficult for you?” “It’s not,” I said, my voice eerily calm as I looked down at his hand, then up at Dana. “I’m only going to ask you one last time, Dana. Did I slap you?” Dana whimpered, burying her face in his shoulder. “Shane, please just let it go. She only did it because she still loves you. I don’t mind.” So she was going to play the victim to the end. A cold smile touched my lips. I yanked my arm out of Shane’s grasp, took two swift steps toward Dana, and delivered a swift, resounding slap across her face. The crack echoed down the empty hallway. “Now, I’ve actually hit you,” I said, my voice steady. “And for this, I will apologize. I am sorry.” Dana gasped, clutching her reddening cheek, her eyes wide with genuine shock and fury. Losing his mind with rage, Shane lunged at me, shoving me violently away from her. “Nora, you’ve completely lost your mind! Do you have any idea what she is going through?” “I don’t care,” I said, cutting him off. “I refuse to apologize for things I didn’t do. Now that the crime matches the punishment, we’re even. Get out of my way.” “You arrogant bitch,” Shane roared. Before I could react, he kicked me hard in the back of my knee. My leg buckled, and I went flying forward. As I fell, my instinct was to put my right hand out to break my fall. There was a sickening, loud crack. An excruciating, blinding white pain shot up my arm, and I gasped, collapsing onto the cold tile floor. At that exact moment, Olivia, our classmate from the OB-GYN department, stepped into the hallway. She gasped, immediately rushing over to kneel beside me. “Nora! Shane, what the hell is wrong with you two?” The moment she touched my arm, a scream of agony escaped my lips. “Don’t touch it, Olivia. I think my right wrist is broken.” Olivia’s face drained of color. Shane, however, let out a harsh, dry laugh. “Cut the act, Nora. You slap someone and then fake an injury just to get out of an apology? You’re pathetic.” Olivia glared up at him, her voice trembling with anger. “How can you speak to her like that? Shane, whatever lies you’ve bought into, she was your partner for ten years! How could you do this to her?” Shane looked slightly unsettled, but he quickly pulled Dana close. “I don’t care about the past. Dana is my only priority.” Olivia shook her head in disgust. “You’re going to regret this, Shane. I promise you.” 4 Olivia immediately posted in our class group chat, letting everyone know that we were heading to the hospital because my wrist was broken. The chat exploded with worried messages. “What happened? How did she break her wrist?” “Oh my god, is it serious? Nora is a neurosurgeon, her hands are her entire life!” Amidst the sea of concern, Shane’s message was a jarring, toxic stain. Dr. Vance is certainly talented. Creating a fake injury just to avoid apologizing for assaulting my girlfriend. I hope the lie was worth it, because if you ruin your own hands over a stunt, you’ll never hold a scalpel again. An hour later, a furious Olivia uploaded my X-ray directly to the group chat. @Shane, is this the fake injury you were talking about? You absolute bastard. You’ve destroyed her career. How are you any different from a murderer? Shane replied with a mocking emoji. The two of you are doctors. Faking an X-ray report is as easy as drinking water for you. Olivia was practically shaking with rage as she stared at her phone. “He’s completely lost his mind.” Are you serious, Shane? Faking a medical record is a career-ending offense. Nobody would risk that. So Nora’s wrist is actually broken? Can she still perform surgery after this? I closed the app, the silence of the hospital room settling over me like a heavy shroud. The orthopedic specialist walked in, his expression solemn. “Nora, I won’t lie to you. It’s a severe Smith’s fracture with significant nerve damage. We can get you back to normal daily function, but as for the fine motor skills required for neurosurgery, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever operate again.” I leaned my head against the cold hospital pillow, feeling completely hollow. I didn’t regret slapping Dana. My only regret was ever loving Shane. The door clicked open, and the one person I despised most walked in. Shane stood by the edge of my bed, his eyes red and swollen. He looked at my heavily bandaged arm, his voice trembling as he spoke. “Nora… I’m so sorry. I didn’t think… I didn’t know it was this bad.” “Get out,” I whispered, turning my face toward the wall. He stood there for a long time, sighing in heavy, guilt-ridden silence, before finally slipping away to buy breakfast. The moment the door closed, another visitor stepped inside.

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