After hinting and overtly suggesting it to Chad for the ninety-ninth time, I finally found a delicate ring box in his jacket pocket. He looked a little dazed as he saw my beaming face. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but if you’re free this weekend, how about we invite your parents out for dinner?” I thought this was it – the proposal. That Saturday, I invited my parents and a few close friends. I had my hair and makeup professionally done, wanting to look my best and capture the moment of a lifetime. But he never showed up. Then, Tiffany, his ‘angel’ he couldn’t let go of, updated her social media. “Spoiled princess and her devoted prince.” The accompanying picture showed two hands, intertwined, wearing matching rings. In that moment, I felt no anger, no sadness. Only exhaustion. Our love, it ends here. When I found the ring box in his pocket, my heart pounded like a war drum. My earlier feelings of hurt and frustration vanished, replaced by a clear, summer-sky happiness. Chad’s gaze flickered from the ring box in my hand to my face, bright as a sunlit morning after the rain. He finally said the words I’d yearned for. I truly believed our seven-year marathon of love was finally reaching its joyful finish line. I spent the following days counting down, too excited to sleep at night. On the day I’d dreamed of, I wore a custom-made dress and spent hours perfecting an intricate hairstyle. My parents and friends teased me, “Never seen anyone so eager to tie the knot!” I wasn’t just eager to marry; I was eager to marry Chad, to give our years of love a proper culmination. But fate had other plans. Chad never showed up, nor did he call, until the restaurant closed. Just as I’d feared. The other shoe, which had been hanging in the air all day, finally dropped. This wasn’t the first time he’d ditched me for Tiffany. I’d lost count. On my birthday, he had to buy medicine for Tiffany’s cramps. On our anniversary, he brought Tiffany home, claiming her toilet was blocked and she had nowhere to stay. Even when I got acute gastroenteritis, he prioritized taking Tiffany’s dog to the vet. Again and again, I felt like I’d turned into a doormat, but truthfully, I just couldn’t bear to let go of the seven years and the prime of my youth we’d shared. I placated my parents, who were seething, and watched the pouring rain outside. Finally, I felt a sense of release. It was time to let go. Somewhere along the way, my words stopped reaching him, my efforts went unnoticed, my emotions were irrelevant to him. We seemed to have nothing left to say. My phone rang. It was Chad, his voice irritable and impatient. “Why aren’t you home so late? If you don’t come back, I’m locking the door!” I sighed. That familiar, inexplicable weariness resurfaced. “Chad, you invited my parents for dinner tonight…” I heard his breath hitch on the other end. After a long silence, his voice came, tentative. “So, are your parents… still there?” Before I could answer, he blurted out, “Riley, can you hold on? I have an important call coming in. Can I call you back in a bit?” He sounded urgent. He hung up before I could reply. I no longer cared whether he truly had another call or if it was just an excuse to escape. Staring at my dead phone, I walked into the rain, letting the downpour drench my expensive dress. The hairstyle that took five hours was plastered to my forehead. Suddenly, I remembered a scene from right after college, when Chad and I waited for the bus in the rain to save cab fare. He had tilted his only umbrella completely over my head. That night, back home with a fever from the rain, he sneezed and mused, “Someday, when I’m rich, I’ll buy a car. I’ll pick you up in all weather, my baby, so you’ll never get a single drop of rain on you again.” I couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears blurring my vision. A cab pulled up beside me. The driver was a kind-looking woman. “Hop in, honey! This ride’s on me!” She was talkative, trying hard to engage me in conversation. As I paid and got out, she called out to me again. “Listen, sweetheart, there’s nothing you can’t get through. Money can be earned back, and men can be replaced. Don’t ever let yourself be miserable.” It dawned on me. She was worried I might be having dark thoughts. I waved gratefully at her. Yes, from now on, I wouldn’t compromise myself again. Before bed, I scrolled through my phone. Tiffany, Chad’s ‘angel,’ had updated her social media. “The princess just couldn’t sleep, so her prince came specifically to sing her to slumber.” The video showed Chad’s profile, gently humming a beautiful melody. Chad had a great voice; he sang really well. When I was down, I used to jokingly ask him to sing for me. What did he say back then? “I’m not a professional singer. If you want to listen, just search online for a song.” Looking back on our seven years together, Chad truly didn’t have much patience for me. I blacklisted both Tiffany and Chad. In a strange way, I suppose it was my own twisted blessing for them to be together. I woke up the next morning to Chad sleeping soundly beside me. Perhaps it was a change in my mindset, but the side profile that once captivated me now looked utterly bland. I quickly got up, showered, and ran downstairs to buy breakfast. By the time Chad woke up, my breakfast was nearly finished. He sat at the table, expecting me to bring him his breakfast, just as I had done countless mornings before. But I simply washed my plate and walked past him. “Where’s my breakfast?” I turned back to him, expressionless. “Starting today, let’s just buy our own breakfast. You always said what I made didn’t suit your taste anyway.” Chad was a picky eater. To cater to him, I used to wake up early, making him different healthy porridges every day. But he would always frown, complaining it was too hot or tasteless. Now, having thought it through, wouldn’t that time be better spent sleeping in a bit or going for a morning run? I expected him to get angry, but instead, he paused, then grabbed my arm. “Riley, yesterday was just too busy with work. I honestly forgot about the dinner with your parents…” Even now, he was still lying and making excuses, but I was tired of deceiving myself and playing along with his pathetic charade. “Was it really just work?” My question hit a nerve. “Riley, what are you implying? You don’t believe me? What do you think I was doing, then?” He was about to say more, but I impatiently pulled up a screenshot of Tiffany’s social media post from yesterday. “You didn’t think I’d recognize you just because your face wasn’t showing, did you?” Chad had a red mole on the back of his right hand. I had one in the same spot on my left hand. I used to be proud of it, thinking we were meant to be. Chad’s self-righteousness instantly evaporated. “Yesterday was Tiffany’s birthday. She doesn’t have many friends in this city, so I just went to celebrate with her.” “Last night, I was actually on my way to pick you up, but Tiffany called, saying she thought there was an intruder in her house…” I pulled my arm away and nodded indifferently. “Right. Of course.” He froze, a flicker of shock in his eyes. He’d probably prepared a whole speech for my tears and arguments, but I hadn’t played by his rules. “My bad, I didn’t manage my time well. I’ll definitely take you to see your parents this weekend.” I casually applied some lipstick, saying, “We’ll see.” His expression softened slightly, as if offering a hesitant apology. He awkwardly suggested, “I have a college reunion today. Want to come along?” In the past, I would have gladly said yes, then spent ages getting ready to go with him. I always believed that loving someone meant integrating into their world. But he used to dislike it and never took me to his friends’ gatherings. I’d once complained. “Why would you go? You don’t know them.” Yet, I’d seen him bring Tiffany to friend gatherings more than once on her social media. “No, thanks. I don’t know them. Besides, my company has a team-building event today.” I used to cling to him whenever I had a moment, so much so that after years of working, I rarely attended company team-building events. My world used to revolve solely around him. His world, however, included games, sports, friends, and his ‘angel,’ Tiffany. Now, I wanted to break free from that enclosed world and see the excitement outside. My repeated, nonchalant rejections of his meek attempts to reconcile finally pushed Chad’s patience to its limit. “Go or don’t go, whatever!” He slammed the door shut, and I calmly changed into a pretty dress. My mood was exceptionally good now that I no longer cared about his temper. But I never expected that my company’s team-building location would be the same as his reunion. After using the restroom, I passed a private dining room and, by sheer coincidence, saw Chad. His close friends were teasing him. “Chad, how come your girlfriend isn’t calling or texting you constantly this time? Did you guys have a fight?” Chad had a sensitive stomach, but his buddies always pushed him to drink. I used to constantly text him to take it easy whenever he was out. “So what if we fought? She’s almost thirty, not eighteen or nineteen. She wouldn’t dare break up with me, would she?” Someone chimed in, “Yeah, she’s become an old hag. Who’d want her if she left you?” “Chad, if you ask me, you’re too responsible. Otherwise, you’d have dumped her years ago and been with Tiffany.” Chad rubbed his temples, looking quite annoyed. “She’s hinted and suggested it so many times. It’s annoying…” So, he knew I wanted to get married. He just pretended not to, dodging the topic. I shook my head, about to leave, when Tiffany’s voice came from behind me. “Riley, did you follow him all the way here? You really keep a tight leash on Chad.” She said this as she pushed open the door to the private room. Everyone inside turned to stare at me. Chad’s friends exchanged glances, as if to say, “See? She followed him again.” Chad’s eyes held an unreadable expression. He leaned back on the sofa as if nothing was amiss, utterly confident. “This morning you were all high and mighty saying you wouldn’t come, but turns out you wanted to sneak around and spy!” “Since you’re here, come in and say hello properly. Why act so timid and petty?” I didn’t want to respond, but then I remembered past grievances. No matter what, I had to settle the score tonight. After Tiffany returned, she excitedly got everyone to play a drinking game: whoever lost had to drink as a penalty. I knew she was deliberately trying to ignore me and make me uncomfortable, but I just browsed on my phone, keeping an eye on their movements, feeling perfectly at ease. Suddenly, their table erupted in shouts again. Tiffany had lost. Annoyed, she leaned against Chad, rubbing her temples. “Chad, I feel so dizzy, I think I’ve had too much. Can you help me out?” Chad had probably drunk a lot that evening. Now, hearing Tiffany, he frowned at the line of drinks in front of him. The scene mirrored the welcome party for Tiffany a year ago. That day was my birthday, but Chad was uncharacteristically unreachable all day. Late that night, I got an unknown call. Later, I found out it was Tiffany, saying Chad was drunk and asking me to pick him up. When I rushed to the private room, they burst into laughter. Tiffany had lost a round of Truth or Dare and deliberately played a trick on me. I was furious and tried to leave immediately, but Chad whispered in my ear, warning me. “Riley, these are all my friends. Don’t make a scene and embarrass me!” Back then, I still loved him deeply, so I swallowed my resentment and sat down. Then, just like tonight, when Tiffany lost and was penalized with drinks, she turned to Chad for help. Chad had already had quite a bit to drink. I knew Chad had a sensitive stomach and felt bad for him. Swayed by his feigned weakness and coaxing, I drank the shots in front of him instead. His buddies seemed to get a kick out of it. Chad kept losing as if cursed, and eventually, I ended up in the hospital. Yet, he showed no gratitude, feeling that my hospital trip ruined their fun. “Riley, look how uncomfortable Chad is. You’re such a good drinker, come on, drink it for him!” My thoughts snapped back to the present. Tiffany looked at me with an air of entitlement. “Chad, hurry up and tell her to come over! She listens to you the most…” Chad stared at me steadily, then carelessly beckoned me over. “I don’t feel well. Drink it for me.” Finally, this moment had arrived. I curved my lips, a smile spreading, and walked toward them.

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I made her a pauper after finding my wife cheating with the butler’s son. It was our wedding anniversary, and Ashley, my wife, had finally set aside her work for a trip together. Just as we were boarding the plane, she suddenly received a message: her father was sick. “Ryan, I’m so sorry, Dad’s suddenly not feeling well. I need to go back and check on him. I can’t go with you this time.” I was a bit disappointed, but her father’s health was paramount, so I agreed. After she left, I tore up my ticket. I decided to go back and see what was wrong with my father-in-law, who had supposedly been dead for three months. 1 I followed her car all the way home. I didn’t rush out of the car. Instead, I pulled out my phone. And that’s when I saw the butler’s son, Chad Peterson, making a grand show of his life on social media. [Your boundless favoritism is the best 21st birthday gift I could ask for!] The picture showed him in a white suit, with an arm around a woman. That woman was my supposedly devoted wife, Ashley Davis. I rolled my wrist, opened the car door, and stepped inside. As soon as I entered the foyer, I saw over a dozen men and women in the massive living room, balloons hanging from the walls. A crowd was chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” … I don’t know how many times they’d shouted it when Ashley Davis looped her arms around Chad Peterson’s neck and pulled him into a full-on French kiss. The room erupted in cheers. When the kiss finally broke, Ashley lingered, her fingers tracing Chad’s lips. She looked up and her eyes widened in terror, spotting me somehow already at the front of the crowd. She instinctively tried to push him away. I was faster. My hand flew up, and I smacked her across the face. Smack. Smack. The sudden change in atmosphere silenced everyone. Chad turned to look at me, his face draining of color. He grabbed Ashley’s arm, pulling her protectively behind him. I watched her, a cruel smile playing on my lips. “So, when did you get a new sugar daddy? Or is he just your little pet project?” Ashley’s eyes darted frantically, trying to form an explanation, when a guy with bleached blonde hair, Spike, shoved me. “Who the hell are you? Crashing someone’s party and hitting people? Are you crazy? Apologize to Chad and his girlfriend right now! Or else!” His words opened the floodgates. Others chimed in: “Just casually assaulting someone? What kind of lawless behavior is this? An apology is too easy; he should be reported to the police!” “I agree. The police should check his background. He’s hitting people now, who knows what he’ll do next? Psycho!” “How did a lunatic get into a birthday party? And he dares to hit people? Do you even know who you hit?” I gave a faint smile to the loudmouths, then turned to Ashley. “You think I shouldn’t have hit you, don’t you?” Ashley licked her lips, about to speak, when Chad tugged her sleeve and shook his head. I saw their little exchange. I was genuinely curious to see what game they were playing. Then, Ashley glared at me, her face full of fury. “Ryan Miller, what in the hell is your problem? It’s Chad’s birthday! Whatever you have to say, save it for later. Don’t make a scene and ruin his party. Get out!” She was clearly afraid her little side piece would lose face in front of his friends. I sneered, watching her with detached amusement. “Ashley Davis, where exactly do you want me to ‘get out’ of? Or is it that you two have something so scandalous you’re afraid others might find out?” The next second, Chad gripped Ashley’s hand, a declaration of ownership in his voice. “Ryan… bro, I know you’ve always had a thing for Ashley. Seeing her with me probably hurts. But you can’t force love, can you? Ashley loves me. We’ve been together for two years. She said we’d get married after I graduate. Please, just stop harassing her.” Ashley hadn’t expected Chad to say that. Her face cycled through emotions, her eyes flicking to me in a furtive glance. Chad’s words hit me like a gut punch. Today was my and Ashley’s two-year wedding anniversary. And they had been together for two years. Meaning, she had been cheating on me before we even got married. And she’d brought Chad and his father into our home under the guise of hiring a butler. They had fooled me for two whole years. Spike spoke up again. “I get it now! You’re just the male nanny who has a crush on Chad’s girlfriend! How shameless can you be? Trying to steal someone’s girlfriend in front of everyone?” Being randomly labeled a “male nanny” made me genuinely laugh. “Chad Peterson, are you still dreaming? What makes you think you’re in a position to have me as your ‘male nanny’?” My words hung in the air, and then a splash. A drink was flung into my face. Spike stood there, holding an empty glass, a smug look on his face. “I think you’re the one who needs to wake up, pal. We all know who Chad is. His dad runs a huge business, and his girlfriend owns a company. This whole villa is his. As for you? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at you, dressed like you just rolled out of a dumpster, not a single designer label on you. You’re only fit for scrubbing floors and serving people.” Dumpster clothes? My clothes had no visible brand because they were custom-designed by world-renowned tailors. Other girls started defending Chad. “Yeah, why aren’t you apologizing to Chad? Otherwise, you’ll lose your job too.” Then, a girl spoke up, her tone flirtatious. “Hey, old man, maybe you should check your age. Competing with a hunk like Chad for a girl? If you’re that desperate, I can help you out. I’ve never tried a thirty-plus guy before. Can I get you for two hundred a night?” Her words sparked another round of laughter. I wiped the liquor from my face, then slowly, deliberately, fixed my gaze on Ashley. “Ashley Davis, I’m your husband. And you’re just going to stand there and watch them insult me, defending your little side piece? Don’t you dare regret this!” Ashley’s face was cold. “Chad is my boyfriend. You brought this on yourself.” Her words were ambiguous, a careful tightrope walk. With so many friends backing him up, Chad straightened his posture, his voice gaining confidence. “Ryan, bro, I’m calling you ‘bro’ out of respect for your age. But don’t forget your place. You can cause a scene all you want, like today, ruining my party, whatever. But Ashley is a woman, and with all these people watching, how can you just publicly slap the CEO of a whole corporation? Did you even think about how she’d feel?” He then smoothly shifted his gaze to Ashley, his voice softening. “Ashley, even though I’m young, I know how to protect my woman. I’ll always give you face when we’re out, unlike Ryan…” His double meaning successfully played on Ashley’s vanity and, surprisingly, her deep-seated inferiority complex. I scoffed. “You know, you’re right. I was so focused on her, I forgot to hit you too!” The next second, I grabbed his collar and slammed two hard punches into his perfect, pale face. Chad clutched his bleeding face, screaming. “Ryan Miller! How dare you hit me! I’m going to make you pay!” “You wanna keep yapping, poodle?” I raised my hand to hit him again, but Ashley grabbed my waist and shoved me with all her might. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward, crashing into the champagne tower. I fell to the ground, my hand landing on shattered glass. Ashley didn’t even spare me a glance. Instead, she shielded Chad behind her and snapped at me: “Ryan Miller! Apologize to Chad!” I looked at my bleeding palm. Gritting my teeth, I endured the pain, carefully pulling out the glass shards one by one. Two years of marriage. It felt just like these shards, piercing my very being. Chad, peeking from behind her, grinned at me triumphantly. The pain in my palm sharpened my voice, chilling it to the bone. “Ashley Davis, you’re throwing a birthday party for your side piece in my house, publicly cheating on me right to my face, and now you want me to apologize to him? Are you out of your mind? Or do you just think I, Ryan Miller, am some pushover? Don’t forget, I can give you a life of luxury, and I can just as easily make you a pauper in a heartbeat!” My words made Ashley’s eyes tremble. But Chad quickly jumped in. “Ryan, Ashley built her company from the ground up with her own hard work and incredible intellect! She achieved financial freedom on her own terms! Don’t talk like you helped her do anything!” I paused, genuinely taken aback. Incredible intellect? Talent? Financial freedom? She couldn’t even understand the simplest business proposal, and now she supposedly had an “incredible intellect”? When she first wanted to start her company, I gave her a million dollars from my own funds and then pulled several multi-million-dollar projects from my father’s company for her to work on. To avoid hurting her confidence, I even transferred the heads of several core departments from my dad’s company to hers. She was just so ridiculously self-congratulatory, thinking she was some genius. Why else would top-tier professionals in various fields choose to work for her tiny, fledgling company? She actually believed they were just impressed by her “abilities.” If I hadn’t been pulling strings behind the scenes, there’s no way she could have turned a small startup into a major company on the verge of going public in just two years. The other party guests, overhearing our exchange, started whispering. “Did that guy just say this is his house, and Chad’s the side piece? Do you think he’s telling the truth?” “I think it’s possible. Look, that guy looks about the same age as Chad’s girlfriend. I always thought Chad’s girlfriend was way too old for him. Maybe she’s been playing him all along!” “But, Chad’s girlfriend is defending him so fiercely. If it were really the original spouse catching a cheater, would the cheating woman dare to act like this?” “Grab your popcorn, folks! This is about to get interesting. Let’s see how this plays out.” Spike couldn’t stand it anymore. He bellowed, “Don’t spread rumors! This is Chad’s house! I’ve been here plenty of times. I’ve seen Chad and his girlfriend sleeping in the master bedroom with my own eyes. I’ve even met his dad – that’s the real rich guy!” A chill spread through me. The thought of them “rolling around” in my bed filled me with profound disgust. Chad fiddled with the couple’s rings on his finger and spoke again. “This is my home. Everyone here can vouch for that. I think you’re the one who needs to leave. Ashley, I don’t want to see him. Can you make him go?” Ashley nodded. “This is your house, Chad. Whatever makes you happy.” Spike grabbed my hair and started dragging me toward the door. “Old man, you need to know your place! How shameless can you be, trying to steal someone’s girlfriend in broad daylight? You’re a disgrace!” Then, he yelled to the others, “You guys wanna see what this creep looks like naked? Bet he’s got abs under that garbage, perfect way to get some payback for Chad!” My pupils contracted. I instinctively clutched my clothes over my chest. Some of the girls, fueled by the mob mentality, were already reaching out, trying to rip my clothes off. I struggled desperately, screaming at Ashley, hoping she would stop them, save me. Ashley frowned, about to lift her hand to intervene, but Chad grabbed her arm. “Ashley, don’t worry, my friends know their limits. They’re just trying to stick up for me. Besides, this way, won’t it make it easier for you to control him?” Ashley’s eyes lit up with understanding. She squeezed his chin, and together, they watched as I was torn at, stripped of my clothes. “Let go of me! This is illegal!” Spike raised his hand and slapped me. “This is us taking out the trash! Besides, you like to ‘steal’ women, right? We’ve got so many young, beautiful girls here, you should be thrilled!” As his words died out, I felt hands all over me, pulling, grabbing, tearing… Just as despair washed over me, a voice boomed from the doorway. “How’s my boy’s birthday going? Dad’s got your present!” Mr. Peterson, Chad’s father and our butler, appeared in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a black suit, holding a beautifully wrapped box, exuding an air of exaggerated wealth. He took in the scene inside and shrieked. “What in God’s name are you doing?!” Spike, quick as a flash, ran to Mr. Peterson to report. “Mr. Peterson, you were only gone for a minute, and this guy broke in and hit Chad!” Mr. Peterson followed Spike’s pointing finger and, as his eyes landed on my face, his own face went white. His lips trembled, and his eyes darted around, terrified to meet mine. The next second, Chad put on a show of noble generosity. “Dad, I’m sure Ryan didn’t mean to. He’s just upset seeing Ashley and me together. My friends just wanted to teach him a little lesson to defend me. Please, forgive him this once. Don’t fire him.” Mr. Peterson immediately understood, though his tongue still felt thick. “R-right… well, you all carry on. I’ll just go upstairs.” Fury boiled within me, my voice hoarse and icy. “Mr. Peterson, your son is acting like an idiot, and you’re not stopping him? Do you think these people can protect you for a moment, let alone forever?” As I spoke, I had subtly pulled out my phone. Mr. Peterson puffed out his chest, glaring at me, but his voice still held a hint of panic. “You little bastard! Don’t talk nonsense! You think I’m scared of you? Everyone knows my son and Ms. Davis are the real couple now! Only a man like my son deserves to be with Ms. Davis. Men like you deserve a beating. Don’t hold back, everyone! If anything happens, I’ll cover it!” I suppressed my rage, buying time. “Cover it with what? You’re just a butler. Do you really think you’re some rich tycoon?” My gaze fell on Ashley. “Ashley Davis, everyone who’s hurt me today will pay. Every single one of them. And that includes you.” Chad lunged at me, trying to hit me again. I gathered all my strength, lunged up, and rammed into him. He crashed to the ground, and Ashley’s rage flared. “Don’t hold back on him! I’ll take responsibility for anything that happens!” My hair was yanked violently, and I was thrown hard onto the ground. “Ms. Davis said it herself! We don’t have to hold back! Do whatever you want!” “Tsk, just a bastard! Dares to steal Chad’s girl! If I don’t teach you a lesson today, I don’t deserve to be Chad’s friend!” “Strip him down!” Spike jumped on top of me, pinning my stomach, making it impossible for me to move. He began furiously tearing at my clothes. Just as I felt more and more skin exposed, almost completely uncovered, the front door was kicked open. A dozen police officers swarmed in. Chad gasped, clamping a hand over his mouth. The people pinning me froze, terrified, and quickly raised their hands. A police officer shouted, “Who called this in?” From behind them, I slowly raised my hand. “I did!”

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My wife, barely 22, had never known true joy. Her best friend, worried she was wasting her youth, engineered a plan to get her drunk and send her into the senior’s room. That night, she, shy and wanting to escape, was pulled into his arms and taken with reckless abandon. From that moment, he became the indelible mark on her heart, her deepest desire. Seven years into our marriage, at a high school reunion, my wife, a CEO, feigned losing a game. Egged on by her best friend, she declared she would marry her ‘one true love’ and make it public. Amidst the cheers and commotion, my wife eagerly shoved divorce papers at me, demanding my cooperation: “It’s just a game, why are you taking it so seriously?” I was silent for a long time. Everyone expected me to explode in a fit of rage. Instead, I took the papers and said, indifferently: “Fine, we’ll divorce. But you owe me three things.” She promised wholeheartedly, urging me to sign, even frantically vowing: “Don’t say three, even three hundred! And when we remarry, I’ll give you the most lavish wedding imaginable!” But she didn’t know. The moment she decided on divorce, my mission failed. I was slated for deletion by the system. Only by completing three tasks could I cling to a sliver of hope. 1 Seeing my signature, Sarah gleefully tucked the papers away. Everyone exchanged knowing smiles. It dawned on me then that this entire reunion was a setup, orchestrated for me. Behind Sarah, a virtual screen abruptly appeared, displaying blinding blood-red text: “MISSION FAILED.” A mechanical voice pierced my mind: “Host, you must maintain your marriage with your target for a full seven years to nullify the life-for-life contract. You have ninety minutes remaining until the contract expires, and you will be annihilated in forty-eight hours.” The voice abruptly shifted tone: “However, considering your predicament, if you complete three urgent tasks within the time limit, you may be granted a chance to survive.” “First task initiating now—” “Make Sarah openly confess her true feelings for you.” I let out a bitter laugh. I’d just signed divorce papers. Now I was supposed to get her to confess her love to me? Chad abruptly stood up, adopting a self-righteous pose: “Sarah! If Ethan’s trying to make things difficult because of me, I, Chad, will gladly drink three shots as penance!” Sarah looked at him with an expression full of tenderness: “Don’t worry, he can’t cause any trouble.” I smirked, a self-deprecating twist of my lips. Seven years ago, on our wedding day, Sarah had originally planned to elope for love, but Chad had fled with her money. After that, she became convinced I’d interfered, treating me like an enemy. Our childhood sweetheart bond devolved into a bitter marriage. I’d always believed that treating her with genuine affection could eventually melt her cold heart. For the past two years, she’d gradually settled down, even coming home early to celebrate our anniversary. But then, Chad returned. Only then did I realize she had never forgotten him. She’d even set up this elaborate scheme just to marry him. She’d even forgotten that today was our seventh wedding anniversary. Now, the seven years I’d stolen, had to be returned. But I still wanted to live. I opened my mouth: “Sarah, first thing—confess your true feelings for me, in front of everyone.” “It has to be just like you did for Chad, all those years ago.” Sarah froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. The private room erupted in chaos: “Ethan, stop making trouble! You’re already divorced, why humiliate Sarah like this?” “Sarah, don’t listen to him! He’s clearly just trying to be difficult!” How ironic. These people had once benefited from my help, but now that Maxwell Corp. was powerful, they were quick to kick me while I was down. Chad’s face was flushed with indignation: “Ethan, you truly are despicable! Sarah, I’ll never let you endure such humiliation!” My own wife, expressing her feelings to me, was considered humiliation to him? I coldly surveyed the room, then tiredly covered my mouth: “Sarah and I are having a private conversation. It’s none of your business.” “Sarah, if you don’t want to confess, then we won’t get the divorce finalized either.” After all these years together, I knew her temperament well. Sure enough, she frowned, saying impatiently: “I thought you’d be reasonable today, but you’re still playing games. If I confess, will you really finalize the divorce?” It seemed she was genuinely desperate to tie the knot with Chad. “Yes.” Sarah’s face darkened. She spoke as if going to her death: “Ethan, stay with me. I’ll always make sure your protein shake is blended just right, so every sip feels as comforting as a warm spring breeze…” Chad’s eyes welled up with tears. He whispered, trembling: “Sarah, you actually remember…” The room erupted in applause, everyone marveling at Sarah’s devotion, how she hadn’t forgotten their old vows in eight years. Watching the two of them exchange tender glances. I felt my stomach churn. I stood up and left the table: “Excuse me, I can’t stay.” Behind me, waves of mocking laughter followed, deriding me for my self-inflicted humiliation. As I was leaving, my best friend, Mike, rushed over, demanding answers: “You really divorcing Sarah? Are you out of your mind?! You gave up the billionaire heiress to marry her, you practically broke your knees for her, and now you’re letting that scumbag Chad swoop in and pick up the pieces?” I remained silent. Back then, when Maxwell Corp. was on the brink, I refused a strategic marriage and broke ties with my parents to save her. My family shunned me, and as her husband, I couldn’t interfere with anything at the Maxwell Corp., leaving me in an awkward position. Yet, the moment Chad returned to the country, Sarah immediately made him Vice President, even putting him in charge of billions of dollars. Love or not, it was starkly obvious. I pulled out a cigarette pack, lit one, and with a detached expression, mocked myself: “You think he’s scum, but Sarah treats him like gold. What can I do?” My friend sighed, patting my shoulder: “I’ll always have your back, buddy. Maybe it’s for the best that you’re finally moving on.” As we spoke, Sarah came downstairs, her face radiant with happiness, discussing with Chad: “Chad, let’s go take wedding photos first, then buy rings. When we get the marriage certificate, I’ll have a thirty-car motorcade pick you up!” Her gaze met mine. Sarah’s upturned lips straightened, and she coldly scoffed: “Ethan, there are still two more things. If you cause any more trouble and don’t finalize the divorce with me, I’ll make your life a living hell!” I lowered my gaze and smiled bitterly. She didn’t know I’d wanted to keep my distance from her for a long time, but I had no choice but to interact with her just to stay alive. Seeing her walk away, I called out to the System: “Did that count as completed?” “Barely satisfactory.” The System’s tone remained unchanged. “Now, initiating Task Two.” “Go on a date with Sarah for one day.” 2 My fingertips trembled, ashes scattering onto the floor. “Are you serious? Sarah putting up with me today is a miracle. If I ask her to go on a date with me, she’ll think I’m messing with her!” The System was cold and indifferent: “Host, you have no right to question. You may choose to abandon the task and be annihilated.” Late at night, I tossed and turned, thinking about the System’s task. BANG! Sarah kicked open the door, grabbing my collar. In the darkness, her eyes blazed with astonishing fury: “Are you satisfied? Because of your little scene today, Chad went home sick, and I had to nurse him all night until his fever broke!” I peeled her hand off me, a smirk twisting my lips: “It was just a game. Couldn’t you have called it off? Who’s going to get serious with a CEO like you?” Sarah choked, then sighed softly: “It was just a game, why didn’t you play along?” I said nonchalantly: “Second thing: tomorrow, cancel all your appointments and spend the day with me.” Sarah’s face instantly went cold: “Ethan, are you serious right now? You’re really pushing your luck!” She slammed the bedroom door shut and left. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I knew that would be the outcome. The next morning, however, she still knocked on my door, a scowl on her face: “I lost millions today because of you. What do you want, just say it quickly.” Because of me? More like, to finalize the divorce with Chad as quickly as possible. The System told me the date itself wasn’t important; the key was for Sarah to continuously spend six hours with me. I took Sarah to the mall to kill time. The entire time, she had her face buried in her phone, never looking up. Occasionally, she’d pause outside a men’s clothing store or a luxury boutique, and with a wave of her hand, buy a stack of things. All of it for Chad. In seven years of marriage, she’d never bought me anything. The shirt I was wearing was pilling from being washed so many times. To get back at me, she’d competed with my family’s business. My dad had called me a traitor, and the industry had blacklisted me. No one knew that beneath my polished exterior, I was living on the meager income from online freelance jobs. By midday, Sarah was clearly impatient, so I quickly took her to a hot pot restaurant. Just as we ordered, her expression changed as she looked at her phone. She made a call, her voice anxious and worried: “How can you not eat? No appetite without me? Okay, I’m coming back right now!” She turned, grabbed her purse, and hurried to leave: “Something urgent came up at the office. I have to go.” I knew this had to be Chad’s doing. “Are you coming back?” My task wasn’t complete yet. She thought for a moment, then nodded: “Yes.” But to my surprise, she returned with Chad. Sarah meticulously cared for Chad, feeding him, wiping his mouth, acting as if she were nursing a bedridden patient. They looked like a loving couple, while I was just a stranger sharing a table. Whatever I wanted to order next, Chad would point to it and demand it for himself. I had no appetite. I pushed my chopsticks away. He looked incredibly smug, exclaiming with exaggerated flair: “The food Sarah feeds me is truly exceptionally delicious…” Under the table, he deliberately stomped on my foot. A vein throbbed in my temple. I glanced at the time. Thankfully, just watching a movie would be enough to hit the six-hour mark. I forced myself to tolerate him. But then, we found there were only two tickets left at the movie theater. Chad spoke first, his eyes red and watery: “Sarah, you and Ethan should go. I know he’s just using the divorce as an excuse to spend time with you, but it’s okay, I won’t be a third wheel! I’ll leave right now!” Sarah panicked, quickly pulling him back: “What are you talking about? Forget the stupid movie. I’ll just spend the whole afternoon with you instead, okay?” I pleaded gently: “Sarah, just watch this movie, and I’ll let you go. I promise I won’t bother you anymore.” To my shock, Sarah shoved me away. The popcorn I was holding spilled all over the floor. “Ethan, stop acting! I’ve told you I could never like someone as selfish, conceited, and arrogant as you. Chad is generous and kind enough not to blame you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll indulge you. Me accompanying you to the mall today was already being more than gracious!” She took Chad’s hand and turned to leave. “WARNING: HOST IS NEGLECTING TASK. ELECTRIC SHOCK PUNISHMENT. PLEASE PERSUADE SARAH TO RETURN WITHIN ONE MINUTE.” The next second, a powerful electric current surged through my body. I instantly fell to my knees, my kneecaps hitting the ground with a loud thud, my entire body convulsing. Gritting my teeth, I pleaded with all my might: “Sarah! Please, watch this movie with me, or I’ll die! Please…” Sarah turned around in a hurry, her pupils constricting as she saw me kneeling on the floor. She instinctively took a step forward. “Sarah, you go. Ethan is usually so healthy, but he suddenly collapsed now. He must be seriously ill. Go with him, don’t worry about me,” Chad suddenly interjected. Sarah’s steps halted. Her expression turned cold: “Ethan, now you’ve learned to fake falls? Stop playing the victim. Don’t make me look down on you.” She left me there. No matter how much I called out, she never looked back. After a long while, the System’s punishment ended. I was pale, like I’d been pulled from water. Many people gathered around, offering to take me to the hospital. The System issued a stern warning: “Task Two completion rate is only fifty percent. If Task Three cannot be perfectly completed, Host, you will still be annihilated.” The display panel changed, showing only one line of text: “MAKE SARAH PROPOSE TO YOU.” I laughed a vacant, hollow laugh, losing all strength and collapsing onto the ground. This was an impossible task. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital. My friend quickly brought me water, his voice sympathetic: “The doctor said your organs are failing and you won’t live more than three days. Does Sarah know? Is this why you’re divorcing her?” I knew this was a side effect of the System’s punishment. Three days? Only twenty-four hours left. I still didn’t want to beg and have Sarah pity me. After all, I was once a privileged heir. I still had my pride. I shook my head: “No, Mike. As my friend, I have one favor to ask. After I die, just tell everyone I went abroad to travel and settle down. Don’t let anyone see how pathetic my death was.” My friend’s eyes turned red. He wiped his face: “You saved Sarah’s life during that avalanche, but she thought Chad saved her, and she’s misunderstood and tormented you for all these years, you—” The phone on the table rang frantically. It was Sarah calling. 3 I struggled to get up and stop him. On the other end of the line, Sarah paused for a second, then scoffed coldly: “Did Ethan tell you to play along with his little act? What’s a fall going to do?” “Tell him to hurry up and say the last thing so we can get it over with. I don’t have time for his games.” Seeing her so anxious, I took the phone and said seriously: “The third thing is simple. Just propose to me. Tell me you want to marry me.” CRASH! An ear-splitting sound came from the other end of the line. Something seemed to have fallen over. Sarah panicked: “Chad, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me!” The next second, she started cursing at me over the phone: “Ethan, are you out of your mind? Are you crazy? I’m not playing your games anymore. You can go or not go to get the divorce finalized, I don’t care. In thirty days, we’ll automatically be divorced anyway. I’m not like you, desperate for survival. I can wait!” She hung up. My chest ached. I knew Sarah wanted to get rid of me, but I hadn’t realized she despised me so much. The System was still urging me to complete the task. But now I had no leverage over her left. What else could I do? Fatigue washed over me like a tidal wave. Even if I were to go and beg Sarah on my knees, she’d just think I was pulling another trick. If that’s the case, I might as well die with some dignity. With that thought, I called her. She answered impatiently: “If you’re going to talk any more nonsense about me proposing to you, just drop dead!” She didn’t know her words would be prophetic. My voice was calm: “That was just a joke. See you at the Registry Office tomorrow morning.” Sarah sounded surprised: “That’s it? You’re being this cooperative?” “Don’t want to? Fine then.” “Wait! You better not be playing any tricks!” She quickly agreed. Nine in the morning, outside the Registry Office. Sarah started swearing because I was one minute late: “Ethan, what are you doing now? You were definitely faking that illness yesterday! They say evil weeds live long, so you’ll probably live to be a hundred!” Her girlfriends also looked on with mocking expressions. They were all waiting for Sarah and Chad to get their marriage certificate, specifically holding party poppers, ready to celebrate. I found it amusing. Before, whenever Sarah and I made plans, she was never on time. She’d stand me up repeatedly, deliberately enjoying my miserable appearance. Today, I was only one minute late, yet she was so agitated. “Yeah, I was doing it on purpose. I’ve changed my mind. The third thing is, I want you to carry me inside to finalize the divorce!” From here to the entrance, it was less than a hundred yards. Sarah looked at me skeptically: “That’s it? So simple?” Chad still rushed out to object, as if I were committing some unforgivable crime: “Sarah’s a delicate woman, how could she possibly carry you that far? Forget the divorce papers then! I’ll wait for you forever, Sarah!” Everyone’s faces turned sour: “Ethan, you’re shameless! This is clearly a trick. You obviously don’t want the divorce to go through!” I curved my lips into a smile, perfectly at ease. Sarah, however, said decisively: “Fine. But if you cause any more trouble once we’re inside, I’ll make your life a living hell.” She walked up to me. I jumped onto her back without a single reservation. Sarah let out a small ‘huh?’ She had mentally prepared herself, expecting me to be heavy. But to her surprise. I was too light. Terrifyingly light. Before, I loved car racing, mountaineering, and rock climbing. My muscle mass was significant. She instinctively asked: “Have you been starving yourself?” I said flatly: “Just too disgusted by you and Chad to eat anything.” Sarah’s red lips pursed: “That’s enough of that.” Back when we got married, she was practically forced into the Registry Office by ten bodyguards, her head bowed as she got the marriage certificate, a look of pure disgust on her face. Now, she walked steadily, step by step, towards the Registry Office, but it was to divorce me. In a daze, I remembered that year, when I was seventeen. Sarah was caught in an avalanche while skiing. I rushed into the snowfield, ignoring everything, my throat raw from shouting, until I found her. At that time, she had snow blindness, and her leg was bruised on a rock, unable to stand. I carried her on my back down the mountain for a day and a night, even cutting my hand to make sure she had sustenance to regain her strength. In her daze, Sarah’s hot tears streamed down my neck: “You’re so good to me. I’m going to marry you!” I chuckled wryly, coaxing her not to break her promise. By the time we reached the bottom of the mountain, I should have died from hypothermia. That’s when the System bound itself to me. It said that my love for Sarah was truly magnificent, and as long as I could stay married to her for seven years, it would grant me health and longevity. I agreed, secretly thrilled, thinking it was a freebie. I was sure we’d be happy together. But to my shock, when I woke up, I saw her confessing her love to Chad in front of the entire student body. She had said she would marry me. But what I got was her endless gratitude towards Chad. I’d tried to explain, but she didn’t believe me. “The person who saved me was gentle and reliable. You’re so glib; how could it possibly be you!” Snapping back to reality, I whispered into Sarah’s ear: “Sarah, we’re even now.” She stopped walking: “What did you say?” 4 My throat tickled, and I couldn’t stop coughing up blood. The System’s punishment yesterday had zapped my internal organs, ruining them. Even though I covered my mouth, a drop of blood still splattered onto Sarah’s delicate, pale neck. She became furious: “Ethan, are you trying to die? Coughing on my neck, how disgusting! Wipe it off!” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, then gently pushed her head, which had turned towards me, back into position. I said calmly: “Look ahead, not at me.” Sarah quickened her pace, approaching the divorce certificate window. Before she could put me down, I jumped off her back myself, grabbing a tissue to wipe her neck. She still felt it wasn’t enough, pulling out tissue after tissue, as if she’d been contaminated by something vile. I couldn’t help but speak: “Sarah, since you’ve decided to be with Chad, then don’t let him down.” Sarah frowned, finally looking me directly in the eye: “What nonsense are you talking about? It’s just a day, and you’re already so petty you can’t stand it? Don’t worry, when this game is over, I’ll give you a luxurious wedding. I won’t go back on my word.” A faint, weak smile touched my lips. On the divorce papers, I fumbled around, trying to find the place to sign. My vision was the worst of all my failing organs. Sarah took my hand and pointed to the spot, scoffing mockingly: “What’s wrong with your eyes? Are you so sad about divorcing me that you cried yourself blind?” I scoffed: “More like you and Chad gave me a stye from all the eye-rolling.” Since Chad returned to the country, it had been a long time since Sarah and I had bantered like this. Sarah angrily punched me once: “Ethan, you’re still as rude as ever!” I let out a pained groan and took a long moment to recover. Her face suddenly changed: “Are you really sick?” I acted nonchalantly: “No. Hurry up and get this done. I’m planning to go abroad for a few days. Plenty of fish in the sea, why bother with one single flower?” Upon hearing this, everyone couldn’t help but sneer, looking at me with expressions that screamed ‘stop acting,’ full of contempt. Sarah’s expression remained grim. She suddenly stood up. “I’m not doing it.” “Not doing it?” Chad exclaimed in surprise, then his eyes grew teary and he said, aggrieved: “Sarah, if you can’t bear to, that’s okay. I’m willing to be punished. I’m just a little allergic to alcohol, I won’t die. I’ll go buy some liquor right now!” I was speechless, not understanding what Sarah meant. I deliberately provoked her: “Stop making a fuss. Or are you really just clinging to me?” Sarah, as expected, couldn’t stand the provocation and quickly signed. “If it wasn’t for your pathetic, sickly face, I would…” She stopped speaking. Then, with a grim face, she took the divorce certificate and turned to sit with Chad at the marriage certificate window. Everyone crowded around, their faces beaming with joy. From this point, it was no longer my concern. I turned to leave, but Sarah suddenly called out to me: “Don’t go! After Chad and I get our marriage certificate and post it on social media, I’ll immediately divorce him and remarry you!” Divorce and remarry? Was she treating this like a game? I gave a perfunctory nod and walked out of the Registry Office. On the virtual screen, the countdown showed thirteen hours remaining, enough time for me to settle my affairs. But to my shock, my vision turned blood-red: “HOST ETHAN, MISSION FAILED. DETECTING OFFICIAL DIVORCE BETWEEN TARGETS. COUNTDOWN ZEROED!” I never expected the System to have a trick like this up its sleeve. I instinctively grabbed the doorframe of the Registry Office and collapsed.

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Ethan Miller’s executive assistant sent me a screenshot from social media. His new secretary had posted a picture of a bento box, filled with exquisite dishes. It was the lunch I’d prepared for Ethan. The caption read: “My cold, brooding CEO Knight vanquished the Ramen Demon, saving his Bellyache Princess.” At the same time, Ethan Miller, who almost never posted on social media, updated his own status. The photo was of a cup of instant noodles, spicy beef flavored. The caption read: “A familiar taste I’ve missed.” I was grinding my teeth in fury when my mother-in-law’s call came through. “Didn’t you see him eating instant noodles? Why didn’t you prepare him lunch? He can’t eat spicy food!” I immediately contacted a major supermarket chain. “One hundred cases of spicy beef ramen, deliver them to Miller Corp.” He liked nostalgia, did he? Well, I’d give him all the nostalgia he could handle! I had barely stepped through the front door when Jack Sterling, Ethan’s executive assistant, sent me a message. It was an Instagram screenshot. Chloe Adams, Ethan Miller’s new secretary, had posted a photo of a bento box. The dishes inside were beautifully arranged, with meat, vegetables, and fish, all nutritionally balanced. It was clear someone had put a lot of care into it. Chloe’s caption read: “My cold, brooding CEO Knight vanquished the Ramen Demon, saving his Bellyache Princess.” I frowned, confused. Why was the bento box I’d prepared for Ethan in his secretary’s hands? Before I could react, Jack sent another message: “Check your feed.” I opened Instagram, and my blood immediately began to boil. Ethan Miller, who probably posted once a year if that, had actually updated his status. The picture showed a cup of spicy beef instant noodles and a hand holding a plastic fork. The caption read: “A familiar taste I’ve missed.” That bastard Ethan! He ignored the elaborate bento box I’d carefully prepared for him, gave it to his secretary, and then went and ate instant noodles himself. I was about to call him and demand an explanation when my mother-in-law’s call came through. I pressed answer, and before I could even bring the phone to my ear, a barrage of complaints erupted from the other end. “Olivia, what’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you prepare lunch for Ethan today?” “Don’t you know he has a sensitive stomach and can’t handle spicy food? How could you let him eat that garbage, instant noodles?” “Mom, I made him lunch…” “You made him lunch? If you made him lunch, how could he be eating instant noodles?” My mother-in-law cut me off. “I just called Ethan. He said you went shopping today and forgot to prepare his lunch.” “You don’t do anything all day, you don’t even go to the company. Can’t you even get one meal right?” Too fed up to argue, I hung up. Then, I immediately sent her Chloe Adams’s Instagram screenshot. “See? Your son fed the meal I slaved over to a dog.” Silence from my mother-in-law’s end. My chest tightened with frustration. At that moment, I just wanted to see some blood. That asshole Ethan! Not only did he give the lunch I prepared to his secretary, he also posted on Instagram, clearly responding to that woman. To top it all off, he lied to his mother and said I hadn’t made him anything at all. He’s playing games with his secretary at the company, and I’m the one getting blamed? He knows perfectly well spicy food gives him a stomach ache, but he just had to eat that bowl of instant noodles. Why? Because he knows every time he gets a stomach ache, I’ll be there, waiting on him hand and foot. If he loved that “familiar taste” so much, then I’d grant his wish! 2 That afternoon, a supermarket delivery truck pulled up right in front of Miller Corp.’s main entrance. The unloaders opened the cargo bay and started stacking cases of instant ramen right there in the company lobby. The young receptionist at the front desk rushed over. “Stop, stop! Did you deliver to the wrong address?” I walked out from behind the truck. The receptionist, seeing me, quickly bowed. “Mrs. Miller!” “No mistake, it’s supposed to be here.” I pointed to the pile of instant noodles, which was quickly forming a small mountain. “Later, find someone to deliver all one hundred cases of these instant noodles to the CEO’s office.” With that, I strode directly into the elevator. In his office, Ethan’s face was ashen as he watched case after case of ramen being brought in. “Olivia, can you please stop this childish behavior?” “I just saw she had a stomach ache and was eating instant noodles, so I gave her the meal you made for me.” “She and I have a purely professional relationship. There’s nothing going on between us.” “Ethan Miller, you don’t have to be sleeping with someone for it to count as cheating. You know what you’re thinking deep down.” “You’re enjoying this ambiguous atmosphere right now. You’re enjoying that worshipful look she gives you.” “With so many people in the company, would you give the meal I made to anyone else who had a stomach ache?” “We’ve been married for so long. You don’t seriously think I don’t know exactly what kind of person you are, do you?” “Your mother started lecturing me right after you posted that Instagram photo. Tell me, what did you tell your mom?” The office door swung open. Chloe Adams, wearing a little white dress and white canvas shoes, walked in carrying a coffee cup. She was sickeningly innocent, exactly the type I couldn’t stand. “Ms. Jenkins, your coffee.” I picked up the coffee cup and, without hesitation, splashed it all over her. Chloe gasped. Her steps, which should have taken her backward to dodge, instead faltered, sending her tumbling towards Ethan. Ethan reached out and caught Chloe. His face was visibly alight with anger. “Olivia Hayes, are you seriously not done with this?” “This is the company, not our home. No one here is going to pamper you!” I sneered, looking at the little shrinking violet on the verge of tears in his arms. “Hold her tighter. Press a little harder. Your CEO Knight might just divorce me and let his Bellyache Princess take my place.” At my words, both their faces flushed, and they quickly separated. I pointed at Chloe, who was now covered in coffee. “Ethan Miller, you still have the nerve to say you don’t play favorites?” “What did she just call me when she walked in? Ms. Jenkins? Am I not married to you? Or am I some shady mistress?” “Is the ‘Ms. Jenkins’ title something you’ve silently approved? Are you planning to divorce me?” “All the female employees here wear business suits and skirts. Black stockings and heels are mandatory, even for me. What’s up with her outfit? Is this your new fetish?” Ethan’s eyes flickered with embarrassment, like a student caught cheating with a cheat sheet by a strict proctor. “What are you talking about? She just hasn’t had time to buy suitable clothes, so I let her wear her own clothes to work. Don’t overthink it.” “Ethan Miller, she’s been working here for almost a month! What kind of clothes take a month to buy? Even a pig would have found clothes by now!” “I’m done with this. You handle it yourself.” I pointed to the instant noodles in the hallway. “Starting tomorrow, I won’t be making you meals. Whenever you’ve eaten your fill of those hundred cases of instant ramen, that’s when I’ll consider cooking for you again. You don’t like my cooking, do you? From now on, you can live with these instant noodles.” Ethan’s face grew impatient. “Can you stop being so unreasonable? When did I ever say I didn’t like your cooking?” “So, you do like it, then?” I pulled a bento box from my bag, opened the lid, and set it in front of him. “Eat up. You said you liked it, didn’t you?” Ethan slammed his hand on the table. “Olivia Hayes, are you insane? What do you mean by putting dog food in my bento box?” “It’s the meal I prepared for you. You like feeding my food to dogs, don’t you?” My gaze fell on Chloe Adams, standing nearby. “Bellyache Princess, this is the supper your loyal servant specially prepared for you.” “Eat up. What are you waiting for?” 3 Chloe Adams, stained with coffee, stood behind Ethan, head bowed. Tears flowed like a broken faucet, hitting the floor with a rhythmic pitter-patter. Anyone walking in would think the CEO had installed a new sprinkler system in his office. “Chloe Adams, if you harbor ambitions of becoming the CEO’s wife, you should know that these pathetic men might like delicate little hothouse flowers like you, but they would never let a whiny, crying waste of space become their partner.” “If you only want to be a rich man’s plaything or an illegitimate mistress for life, then keep crying. See if your CEO Knight will actually marry his Bellyache Princess.” “If you want to kick me out and take my place, then show some of the guts a mistress needs to become the wife.” I pushed the bento box filled with dog food closer. “Eat it. If you eat it, Ethan will a hundred percent side with you against this old hag. Then you’ll be one step closer to becoming Mrs. Miller.” “You want to be a wealthy socialite, but you’re too afraid to lose face? Then you’re destined to be nothing more than a template and a trophy for rich men.” Chloe Adams clearly hadn’t heard a word I said. Her tears flowed even more profusely. “Ms. Jenkins, I’m just a secretary, but that doesn’t mean I have no dignity. You’re insulting my character.” “Mr. Miller and I have never crossed a line. You’re just speculating with your malice!” “Insulting your character? You don’t have a mirror, but you must have a phone camera, right? Why don’t you take a look at yourself?” I scoffed. “Never crossed a line? You really have the nerve to say that?” “As a secretary, you can’t even dress appropriately. Does that outfit look like a secretary’s attire? If you went out with the boss to negotiate a deal looking like that, do you think people would see you as his secretary or a toy he brought along to show off?” “A secretary eats her boss’s lunch and feels smug about it. As a secretary, you’re supposed to solve problems for your boss, not create them.” “If you truly had any dignity, you’d proudly resign and leave right now, instead of standing here whining and playing weak, begging for your CEO Knight’s protection.” “Enough!” Ethan kicked the bento box with dog food across the room. “Olivia Hayes, don’t push your luck!” “This is the company. This is my private secretary. What right do you have to treat my staff like that?” Dog food scattered everywhere. I stood there like a statue, letting the kibble hit me, unmoving. “Ethan Miller, I’m giving you two choices right now.” “One: you keep your Bellyache Princess, and we get a divorce.” “Two: you fire her. I can pretend none of this ever happened, and I won’t bring it up again.” “One or two, you choose.” “Impossible!” Ethan answered without hesitation. “The company has its rules and regulations. No one has the right to fire an employee without cause.” I nodded. “Alright, I understand.” With that, I stood up and walked straight out. Ethan rushed after me, grabbing my arm. “Olivia, can you please stop acting out?” “Let go!” I shook his hand off. “Ethan Miller, you made your choice. Why are you clinging to me now?” “It’s the twenty-first century. Don’t tell me you’re planning on building a harem.” “Are you going to elevate her to a co-wife, or make her your concubine?” “Olivia, can you just listen to me—” “Get lost!”

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It was my third year of marriage to Ethan. He was thirty-five. I was not yet twenty-one, still in my senior year of college. I hadn’t even decided if I wanted to be a stay-at-home wife yet, when I overheard him chatting with a group of industry titans: “Audrey has nothing going for her besides her youth. “Compared to her, Veronica is far more sophisticated. “I’m starting to regret getting married. How much does it cost to keep a young mistress? Now, divorce would mean a monumental loss.” Turning around, I handed him the divorce papers. When he saw the words stating I’d walk away with nothing, he breathed a sigh of relief, and then, feigning generosity, said, “I’ll transfer you twenty million as compensation.” I smiled and politely declined, “I’m still young; I can afford to lose.” He didn’t know that my brother, Liam, was a scion of one of the East Coast’s most powerful families. All these years, Ethan’s rise to the top tier of business was entirely due to my brother’s support. Divorcing me, his losses were just beginning. 01 During my senior year internship, to see my handsome husband more often, I resolutely joined Ethan’s company. As a junior employee, I kept such a low profile that Ethan didn’t even know I was there, fearing I’d cause him trouble or distract him. Whenever I overheard fellow interns discussing Ethan, I would listen intently, never interrupting. “Mr. Miller is so charming, thirty-five is the prime age for a man.” “Too bad he’s married; I heard his wife is just some unknown young woman.” “Ugh, why don’t I have that kind of luck…” When I was eighteen, to show his sincerity, Ethan declared on the first day he pursued me that he was aiming for marriage, and immediately gave me an engagement ring. I responded with equal passion. We got married after a year of dating, impulsive and fervent, sweet and blissful. He gave me a dream romance beyond imagination; an alpha CEO’s love, direct as a raging torrent, sweeping me off my feet. If I hadn’t interned at his company, perhaps I would never have discovered his hidden secrets. Veronica, Ethan’s executive assistant, was sensual and stunning, a classically sophisticated woman. She often accompanied Ethan on business trips and client dinners. She managed all company affairs, big or small, often more intimately familiar with operations than Ethan himself. Thus, before news of Ethan’s marriage broke, the entire company believed Veronica was the boss’s wife. While getting lunch in the company cafeteria, I even overheard old employees who had worked with Veronica remarking: “Mr. Miller has such poor taste; he doesn’t appreciate Veronica, a beauty like her right by his side.” “It’s a shame Veronica resigned from her executive position at a publicly traded company just to be Mr. Miller’s assistant.” “Just wait and see; once the passion fades, Mr. Miller will divorce and end up with Veronica.” Rumors swirled, but I paid them no mind. After all, the fiery passion between Ethan and me never waned, night after night. Until one client dinner, Veronica, drunk, openly confessed her feelings to Ethan in front of everyone. It was less a confession, and more an ultimatum to Ethan. Veronica asked him if she was in his heart. Ethan remained silent for a long time. Veronica pressed on, “If I’m not in your heart, why won’t you approve my resignation?” Ethan’s expression was grave as he answered with one word: “You are.” Then, he gazed deeply at Veronica, “You are in my heart. I can’t be without you, so I can’t approve your resignation, okay?” Veronica smiled, downed a glass of expensive wine, and left with her bag. The air hung heavy for two seconds, then Ethan chased after her. That gathering consisted of old associates who had worked with Ethan and Veronica for years; I hadn’t attended. However, Jessie, a curvy girl I was friendly with and who loved gossip, filmed the scene and sent it to me privately. She asked: [Do you think Mr. Miller and Veronica will… hook up tonight?] I replied: [Probably not… right?] [They’re adults, they’ve known each other for years, have deep feelings, drank alcohol, and confessed. How can nothing happen?] I typed with certainty: [Mr. Miller is married, he’ll know his limits. Besides, Veronica isn’t the type to be a homewrecker!] [You’ve got a point. But whether anything happened, we’ll know tomorrow.] I didn’t understand what she meant by “know tomorrow,” but the moment I exited the chat, I got my answer. Ethan sent a message saying he wouldn’t be home tonight due to a client dinner. My heart trembled. I immediately dialed his number. At first, no one answered. After several attempts, Ethan finally picked up: “Baby, my phone was on silent, didn’t hear it. What’s up?” I forced my emotions down, my nails digging into my palm. “Honey, are you really not coming home tonight?” “Hmm, dinner with the team, everyone’s here. Can’t make it back, baby, please understand.” I gritted my teeth and pressed, “Are there any female guests at this dinner?” He paused, then chuckled, “No, when did you start checking up on me? How about a video call, I’ll prove I’m innocent.” As he spoke, I heard rustling. It sounded like a high-end shirt rubbing against a hotel bedsheet. Before, when our love was fervent, such sounds were common. “Ugh…” A muffled groan escaped Ethan’s lips. The turmoil in my heart, it just… dissipated in that instant. Three years with Ethan, we did a lot of intimate things. I knew exactly what that “ugh” meant. It was his emotional release after exerting himself in pleasure. This detail, he probably hadn’t even noticed himself. Good. I didn’t even have to stop him from cheating. He already cheated. I forced a bitter laugh, “No need for a video call… I’m afraid I’ll go blind.” “You have fun. I’m going to bed.” My heart turned to ash. I was about to hang up. Then Ethan spoke again. His voice was hoarse and low. “Baby, we finalized a huge deal tonight. The team will be working extra hard starting tomorrow. I might be working very late, so don’t wait for me for dinner these next few days.” Working extra hard. Or spending extra time with Veronica. To me, it no longer mattered. 02 The call ended. I didn’t sleep a wink all night. Sporting dark circles under my eyes, I arrived at the company. My mind was still a blank slate when Jessie, the curvy girl, came up to me, eager to continue discussing last night’s gossip. “Something definitely happened between Mr. Miller and Veronica last night.” I furrowed my brow slightly. Then she continued, “This morning, Mr. Miller’s clothes were all wrinkled, and… he was wearing the same outfit as yesterday. Doesn’t that mean Mr. Miller didn’t go home at all last night?” I nodded, too tired to praise her keen observation skills. She went on, “Veronica was also late this morning. When she came in, she looked radiant, like someone who usually acts so sharp and efficient just completely transformed.” I asked her, “How transformed?” She thought for a moment before replying, “More radiant, more seductive, more… delicate and pampered. See for yourself.” I looked up. I saw Veronica walk in, wearing a tight, curve-hugging dress. I had seen that dress before. I spotted it when I was shopping with Ethan. But they didn’t have my size, so I paid and placed an order, asking them to ship it to Ethan when it arrived. Now it seemed. The dress had arrived. But the recipient had changed. Veronica was in high spirits. As soon as she entered, she asked everyone what they wanted to drink, offering to treat. Everyone cheered. I sat in the corner, a mix of emotions churning inside me. I tried to numb myself with work. But it didn’t help. I drifted aimlessly until noon. I sat at my desk, eating takeout. Veronica, meanwhile, carried large bags of exquisite meals into Ethan’s office. Once inside, she stayed the entire afternoon. When she finally emerged, it was already evening, almost quitting time. Jessie, next to me, clicked her tongue, sighing, “The world is truly going downhill. Why did Veronica have to fall for a married man? Mike, who sits closer to the CEO’s office, said Veronica practically threw herself into Mr. Miller’s arms as soon as she went in. They almost turned the office into a motel!” After saying that, Jessie even sent me a photo Mike had secretly taken. Veronica was sitting on Ethan’s lap, feeding him. Their expressions, their posture, were incredibly intimate. “I wonder how sad Mr. Miller’s wife would be if she saw this,” Jessie whispered with a sigh. Mr. Davies, the manager sitting opposite us, frowned. “They’re clearly smitten with each other. Why are you two interfering?” Jessie didn’t quite catch Mr. Davies’s meaning and playfully added, “That’s true, she really is the mistress!” Mr. Davies grew displeased, throwing a binder at Jessie. “Since you’re so free, finish this. You’re not leaving until it’s done.” Jessie’s face fell. I quietly sent her a message: [Mr. Davies and Veronica go way back. He’s definitely on her side, so don’t say that kind of thing again.] Jessie replied with a crying emoji. I comforted her: [I’ll help you with that binder. Let’s finish it quickly and go. My treat, gourmet tacos.] She brightened up again. That evening, Jessie and I finally completed our overtime task and were about to head out for tacos when Mr. Davies called us back. “You two worked hard. Let’s go grab a late dinner together.” Mr. Davies gave us no chance to refuse. He turned and led us to a restaurant near the company. After dinner, we were led to a karaoke bar. We were reluctant, but had no choice. Interns had little say. Sitting in a dark corner, we just played a popular mobile game. We were so engrossed in the game, we didn’t even notice that a lot of people from Ethan’s inner circle had entered the private room. Until I heard a familiar voice. Then I saw Ethan, surrounded by a group of industry giants, seated in the main spot. At first, the group talked about projects. Later, they started discussing their personal lives. About children, wives, in-laws… and of course, their mistresses. “I saw Veronica’s social media post saying ‘lovers finally united.’ What’s up, did you finally come to your senses and take Veronica into your bed?” Someone asked. I couldn’t help but perk up my ears. Ethan said coolly, “You don’t understand the situation that day. I had no choice; Veronica was pushing me. If I didn’t want her, she would resign. You know, Veronica has been with the company for so many years; the company can’t function without her. Of course… you could also say I can’t function without her.” “So Veronica is okay being a mistress? Ethan, don’t let this backfire on you later.” “Yeah, remember how much effort you put into marrying that young girl? We all saw it. Never mind how stable your arrangements outside are, but what happens when the wife at home finds out? Wouldn’t she cause a huge scene?” “That’s not fair. If Veronica doesn’t mind, why should the other woman?” “Mr. Miller has pampered that girl for years. How could she accept returning to a normal, ordinary life? Even if she found out about his mistress, she wouldn’t dare make a fuss. As long as she holds the title of Mrs. Miller, she’ll at least be financially secure and live a life of privilege.” Everyone chimed in, one after another. Ultimately, they concluded that as long as Ethan kept Veronica from making a scene, the wife at home wouldn’t be able to turn their world upside down. They even congratulated Ethan, praising his ability to have his cake and eat it too. Jessie listened, her face crinkling in disgust. She couldn’t help but whisper “disgusting” in my ear. Then she added, “Even though Mr. Miller is such a jerk, what they’re saying isn’t entirely wrong. That young girl probably hasn’t even graduated yet, no family background, no real skills. Causing a scene really wouldn’t do her any good, do you think…?” I nodded. “No, she won’t cause a scene. In this society, everyone prefers to be civilized.” Everything could be discussed calmly and respectfully. Divorce, too. At that moment, Ethan put down his glass and spoke: “Yes, Audrey has nothing going for her besides her youth. Compared to her, Veronica is far more sophisticated. “But Veronica’s proud personality, I don’t know how long she can endure this. “I’m starting to regret getting married. How much does it cost to keep a young mistress? Now, divorce would mean a monumental loss.” So, he was calculating the loss. Of course. Ethan and I were legally married. A divorce would mean splitting his marital assets. Then, let it be as Ethan wished. I could walk away with nothing. But he would have to bear the cost of me walking away with nothing. 03 Until everyone dispersed. Veronica drove off with a drunken Ethan. I watched from afar as the two embraced, their mouths pressed together. Perhaps they had restrained themselves for too long. As soon as they got into the car, it began to rock violently. I silently filmed everything that had just happened. Then, I called my brother. “What’s up, sis? Why are you calling me so late?” My brother’s voice immediately touched the softest part of my heart. I couldn’t help but “plop” and tears streamed down my face. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you crying?” I choked, unable to speak. My brother immediately asked where I was. I mumbled an address. Half an hour later, he appeared before me. I was huddled on the street steps, trembling. My brother took off his jacket and draped it over me, sitting silently beside me. “Where’s Ethan?” “He cheated.” My brother froze, his jaw clenching. “Where is he? I’ll kill him.” I grabbed my brother’s hand and shook my head, “No need. It’ll just dirty your hands.” My brother stomped his foot hard on the ground in anger! But it wasn’t enough to appease him. He asked me, “Are you divorcing him?” I nodded without hesitation. “Could it be a misunderstanding?” I showed my brother all the videos and photos on my phone. Even though I didn’t say anything, my brother had already made his decision. He immediately took out his phone and made a few calls. One was to his lawyer friend, asking him to draft a divorce agreement for me. The second was to contact suppliers associated with Ethan, instructing them not to sign contracts they had just agreed upon if they hadn’t already, not to renew expiring contracts, and to revoke discounts on existing contracts, charging market prices. After making the calls, my brother took my hand. “Come on, let’s go home.” I shook my head, tears still clinging to my eyelashes. “Before we go home, I want to move.” My brother didn’t hesitate, driving us to the marital home Ethan and I shared. Ethan bought the house. I had nothing to be nostalgic about. But I had lived there for three years, and I never thought I would leave it this way. “If you want this house, I’ll get you the best lawyer to help you claim it.” “No, thanks, Liam. Anything tainted by Ethan, I find pretty dirty now.”

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Back from a business trip, I held the designer bag Olivia had been coveting, ready to give her a surprise. But before I even got home, I received an emergency call from the hospital: Olivia was hospitalized due to acute bleeding. I rushed over, my heart pounding, only for the attending physician to discreetly usher me into his office. “Young man, I know you youngsters have boundless energy, but you can’t be too forceful.” He continued, “The patient has a cervical laceration. She needs plenty of rest, and no marital activity for at least a month.” My vision blurred. A chilling prickle went up my spine. I’d been away on a business trip for nearly a month. Could Olivia be cheating on me? 1 The doctor kept droning on about precautions and medication, but my brain had completely crashed. I couldn’t process a word. “Doctor, are you sure it’s a cervical laceration? Could there be a mistake?” My eyes were wide with disbelief. The doctor pushed up his glasses. “Young man, you need to own up to your actions. There are no outsiders here, no need to be embarrassed.” He added, “You can question me, but instruments don’t lie. Look, the report clearly states it.” With that, he handed me the detailed report. My insides twisted, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My mind raced. Then, I stammered, “Doctor, is it possible… that my wife, uh… that she was, you know, just relieving loneliness by herself and accidentally did it?” The doctor furrowed his brow, about to say something, but then he noticed the designer bag in my left hand and my suitcase in my right. He paused for a long moment. “Well… that’s not entirely impossible. You could ask your wife about it.” He handed me the prescriptions, giving me a complicated look that sent a searing pain through my chest. Even an idiot like me understood what the doctor was implying. My legs felt like lead, each step impossibly heavy. Olivia showed no unusual reaction when she saw me. Her face was pale from blood loss, but she still said, in a playful, almost childlike voice, “Honey, I missed you so much while you were away.” She reached out to hug me, but just as her hands were about to touch me, I flinched away as if dodging something repulsive. Olivia’s outstretched hands froze in mid-air. She looked at me with confusion. “Honey, what’s wrong?” The doctor’s words echoed in my mind, but I couldn’t find the courage to ask. I just blurted out an excuse. “Ah… you must be hungry. I’ll go grab you some food and pick up some fresh clothes from home.” She smiled at me. “Okay, thanks, honey.” Leaving the hospital, I felt disoriented the whole way home. Olivia and I had been together for three years. It wasn’t a long time, but our relationship had always been strong. She’d even moved across the country for me, and she didn’t demand a huge dowry. I never imagined she would betray me. This year, due to my company’s expansion, I’d been traveling a lot. But whenever I video-called her, Olivia always picked up immediately, showing no signs of anything amiss. Was she cheating? I kept asking myself, then immediately tried to reassure myself that she loved me and wouldn’t cheat. But the doctor’s words clung to me, making it impossible to stop overthinking. Desperate, I started searching online. The answers on Google were wild. I found a popular video that said, “In non-marital circumstances, severe impact to the abdomen or high-intensity exercise can also, to some extent, cause cervical bleeding.” My heart calmed down a little. 2 When I got home, I was greeted by a complete mess. Olivia’s clothes were piled haphazardly on the sofa, and the coffee table was littered with leftover takeout containers and beer cans. It looked like she’d really let loose while I was away. I stepped around the clutter and headed to the bedroom to find her some fresh clothes. As I opened the door, I noticed a newly opened box of condoms and our special little toys on the bedside table. The heavy stone in my heart finally lifted. It wasn’t cheating after all. I truly had been away too long. She must have missed me, otherwise she wouldn’t have resorted to those things to relieve herself. With the alarm bells in my head silenced, my tense shoulders immediately relaxed. I hummed a little tune as I tidied the house and even took out the trash. That’s when I noticed a cigarette butt by the front door, and a small burn mark on the carpet. My heart instantly leaped into my throat. Olivia absolutely hated smoking. I’d quit years ago when we started dating because of her. Someone had definitely been here! Just as my blood pressure shot to my temples, my phone rang. It was Olivia. I answered, and her sweet, almost sugary voice came through. “Honey, where are you? Why aren’t you back yet?” My irritation flared. I replied curtly, “I’m home. I’ll be back as soon as I finish cleaning up.” “Oh, honey, my mom came a few days ago. She even bought a fresh fish. If you’re hungry, you can cook it.” It was my mother-in-law! That made sense. My mother-in-law had a strong smoking habit. Olivia had tried to get her to quit countless times over the years, but she never succeeded. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I had such a good wife; anyone would be lucky to have her. I quickly cleaned the fish, made a savory fish soup, and prepared two of Olivia’s favorite dishes: shrimp and savory scrambled eggs. Under my careful nursing, Olivia recovered quickly and was discharged in less than half a month. Our interactions went back to normal, with no visible signs of anything amiss. But once a seed of doubt is planted, a person inevitably becomes suspicious. Even though thoughts of Olivia cheating would occasionally surface in my mind, every investigation turned up nothing. Then, one day, a glitch in a company project meant the client couldn’t sign immediately. My work was unexpectedly interrupted, so I headed home early. But there, on the shoe rack outside our door, sat a pair of men’s dress shoes. My internal alarm blared. As I opened the door and stepped inside, I heard Olivia’s high-pitched, resonant cries coming from the bedroom. All the suppressed emotions I’d held back for so long erupted. I strode quickly forward, but the bedroom door was locked from the inside. This “other man” was clearly prepared. I pounded on the door, rattling the doorknob violently. Inside, Olivia’s panicked voice cried, “Honey, why are you suddenly back?” I was too furious to waste words. I prepared to kick the door open and catch them red-handed. Just then, Olivia suddenly opened the door. Her face was flushed, and she was wrapped only in a bath towel. The entire room was thick with the scent of passion. I scanned the room. No one. A flicker of awkwardness crossed Olivia’s face. She asked tentatively, “Honey, what are you looking for?” I gritted my teeth, spitting out each word, “I’m looking for the scumbag who left his dress shoes at our door!” With that, I began tearing through the bedroom, checking under the bed, inside the closet – every possible hiding spot. But there was no one. 3 Just as confusion washed over me, Olivia’s sobbing broke through my thoughts. “Ethan, I knew you suspected me. Ever since I was hospitalized for the cervical bleeding, you’ve been acting strangely, always looking at me like I have two heads.” “Have we been together all these years for nothing? Is there no basic trust between us?” Seeing Olivia’s eyes red and swollen from crying, I felt guilty for my impulsiveness. After all, there really was no one else in the house. I picked up a tissue to wipe her tears. She sniffled tearfully, “Ever since I got out of the hospital, you’ve been so preoccupied. And every time I ask you, you just say ‘nothing’.” “Would you rather overthink everything on your own than just ask me directly?” I was speechless. I wanted to hug and comfort her, but she simply pushed me away. “Ethan, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You’re always finding excuses to sneak a peek at my phone. Last time, after the company dinner, you even tailed me in your car.” “Can you please stop monitoring me like I’m a criminal? You’re really breaking my heart,” Olivia’s voice grew more agitated. She stomped back into the bedroom, packed a suitcase, and declared she was moving out. I stepped forward to block her, but she glared at me fiercely, spitting, “What, I can’t even go clear my head? I’ve had enough of your suspicions. You stay here and do some serious self-reflection!” Her words plunged me into deep self-reproach. I ran my hands through my hair, feeling utterly suffocated. Then, suddenly, it hit me: our apartment was on the first floor! I had clearly heard Olivia’s moans just moments ago. The jerk inside must have simply escaped through the window! I immediately rushed back into the bedroom and yanked open the curtains. Sure enough, the window was wide open. Because it had rained that morning, there was a distinct set of five-toed footprints in the muddy grass outside. I immediately called Olivia, wanting a clear explanation, but she seemed to have blocked me. Calls and texts went straight to voicemail, no reply. I dug out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer – the ones I got at a colleague’s wedding. The nicotine might temporarily numb my brain. Since I hadn’t caught him this time, Olivia would never admit it. I might as well use her absence to dig up clues. My company messaged me: the unsigned project from before was back on. I needed to meet the client at the Grand Gardens Restaurant today and prepare for the signing. To avoid any issues, I arrived an hour early to prepare. As I followed the signs to private room 422, I heard a familiar name. I stopped dead in my tracks. From private room 420, a man’s voice declared, “Olivia, no backing out! Either you drink a bottle of wine, or you kiss Blake as per the dare rules!” Another woman chimed in, “Exactly! Olivia, you and Blake were the campus’s golden couple back in the day. What’s there to be shy about?” “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Olivia’s sweet voice drifted out. “Okay, okay, stop teasing! Blake’s a married man now, he can’t just kiss anyone. Besides, I’m married too. I’ll drink the wine instead.” Another man spoke up. “Olivia, if I hadn’t gone abroad for studies, maybe we would have married years ago. You just got out of the hospital, you can’t drink that much. I’ll do it with you.” The other two chimed in, “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine if you’re married, it’s just a game!” Rage flared in my chest. Standing outside the door, my hands slowly clenched into fists, my nails digging into my flesh, sending sharp pains through me. Just then, a waiter approached, pushed the door open to deliver dishes. I stood to the side, peering in. Olivia was wrapping her arms around a stranger’s neck, straddling him completely, her body facing him. The man’s hands were helpfully cupping her butt, and both of them had their eyes closed, passionately making out. As all the previous details clicked into place – Olivia’s cervical laceration, the footprints outside the window – I stormed directly into the private room…

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I shelled out a million bucks for a rare Platinum Arowana, only for my wife to give it to her intern to feed to stray cats. He even flaunted it on social media: [So grateful for the beautiful and kind Evelyn! Our little Buddy is now a cat who’s eaten a dragon fish~] In the video my friend sent, my wife, Evelyn Hayes, was leaning into the intern, Dylan Miller, both of them cooing over a grubby stray cat, smiling so sweetly. Meanwhile, my prized fish, which was meant to be a gift, lay on the grass, scales ripped off, bloody and unable to move. I immediately called Evelyn. But I tried twenty-something times, and not a single call went through. An hour later, I posted my own update, complete with a video. [Nothing beats a stew made from carefully pampered exotic pets—the dogs just love it!] In the video, all of Evelyn’s expensive exotic pets had been tossed into a large pot, made into a rich stew, and shared among a pack of stray dogs outside the building. 1 Just as I was instructing the household staff to take the contents of the pot out to the nearby strays, Evelyn, who had been missing for hours, stormed back. The rapid clatter of the keypad buttons showed just how agitated she was. “Alex Thorne! Have you lost your mind?!” “Do you have any idea how much effort I put into getting those exotic pets? How precious they are? And you actually ate them all?!” I scoffed, retorting, “Who’s truly lost their mind here?” “Didn’t you casually give away the dragon fish I paid over a million for?” “How is it okay for you to feed cats, but not for me to feed dogs?” “I thought this was your new quirk, you know, buying million-dollar pets just to eat them. So I helped you stew all the exotic pets in the house. Good timing, you’re back just as the stew’s fresh and hot. Want a bowl?” Evelyn choked on her words, a breath catching in her throat. It took a while for the flush to recede from her face. “Isn’t it only natural for cats to eat fish?” “Besides, Dylan just landed a huge order for the company right after getting promoted from intern. I was just rewarding him.” “And once I gave him the fish, how he dealt with it was his business. No one else has a say.” At that, I let out a low chuckle. “Reward?” “Chloe Davis has been working with you since the day you joined the company. She’s done all the grunt work, never a single complaint.” “Funny, I’ve never seen you reward her with anything so extravagant.” I paused, my gaze turning cold. “Or is it that you’re just happy to be generous with my money, giving away things I paid for?” Evelyn was rendered speechless by my retort, but Dylan, who had been lingering behind her, piped up. “It’s just a fish, isn’t it? I’ll pay you back.” “Pay me back?” I craned my neck, sizing him up. “That was a Platinum Arowana worth over two million. Even its shed scales fetch a couple of thousand dollars each.” “Can you even afford it?” Hearing the price, Dylan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No way! A small fish is worth over two million?!” Seeing his skepticism, I pulled out the payment receipt. He instantly quieted, looking pleadingly at Evelyn. “Evelyn…?” Evelyn was silent for a moment, then patted his hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to pay. I told you it was your reward; you earned it by securing that big deal.” “The company will cover the cost.” Hearing Evelyn constantly claim Dylan had secured a big deal, I grew curious. A two-million-dollar gift, just like that? How massive could this deal be? But I hadn’t heard of Hayes Corporation getting any major new business recently. The next second, Dylan unwittingly enlightened me. “Right, Evelyn, Mr. Thorne even stamped the approval. My bonus is well-deserved…” In an instant, it clicked. So, Evelyn had pulled strings and used my company’s corporate seal without authorization, all to help him gain a foothold in the company. This project hadn’t even passed through my hands, and she’d already given it my seal of approval. “Evelyn Hayes, what project did Thorne Enterprises and Hayes Corporation collaborate on? How is it that I, the CEO, know nothing about it?” “Where did he sign this ‘deal’? On your bed?” Evelyn’s voice suddenly rose. “Alex Thorne! What are you talking about? I’m your wife!” “Dylan secured that project based on his own merit. He couldn’t reach you, so I just stamped it for you. The proposal was genuinely excellent, a win-win collaboration. Would I ever do anything to harm you?” I laughed as if I’d heard the most ridiculous joke. “You still remember you’re my wife?” “I’m a CEO too, and I’m busy, but I don’t spend entire nights away from home like you do.” “And you say you’re ‘working overtime at the office.’ I think you’re more likely ‘playing around’ at the office!” Probably unable to argue back, Evelyn’s face flushed crimson. “You’re absolutely impossible to reason with!” With that, she grabbed Dylan and stormed out of the house. My intense, confrontational demeanor instantly deflated. In elite family marriages, it’s common for couples to appear united but be estranged, with plenty of discreet affairs happening on the side. But I thought Evelyn and I were different. Although we were childhood friends, the Thorne family’s standing far surpassed the Hayes family’s. At the time, countless women were vying to be my fiancée, but I chose her alone. Because she was the only one who didn’t care if I was outstanding, but rather worried if my path to success was arduous. I once believed she loved me too. To get my parents to accept her, I even leveraged my own resources and connections to help the Hayes family rise. At seventeen, I thought true love was invincible, capable of overcoming all odds. But after marriage, as the Hayes family leveraged their connection to the Thornes, skyrocketing to become a top-tier elite family, The Evelyn who was always so gentle and thoughtful with me changed. Perhaps reaching a certain height, she felt she no longer needed the Thorne family’s help. She stopped pretending. She began subtly and unintentionally to distance herself from me, even overtly cheating on me. But no matter. Evelyn Hayes, I’ll make you realize the price of ‘playing around’! 2 Half an hour later, I had the divorce papers sent to her. If Evelyn were a smart woman, she’d understand my stance. The implied message: she could give her lover anything she wanted, just don’t involve me. This was the last shred of dignity I was offering this marriage. But when the papers came back to me, they were nothing but shredded confetti. I knew she was protesting. “Mr. Thorne, Ms. Hayes also asked me to relay a message.” “…” My assistant hesitated, unable to bring himself to speak the words. I knew what he wanted to say; after all, I had taught Evelyn that tactic myself. “Did she say ‘what’s done is done, the deal’s sealed, and if I want to terminate the contract, I’ll have to pay a breach penalty’?” The assistant nodded, his face grim, and added, “And Ms. Hayes said that since you appreciate Ms. Davis so much, Ms. Davis should just come work directly under you at Thorne Enterprises. Hayes Corporation is too small for her talents.” “When I left, I saw that Ms. Davis’s old desk had already been taken by Dylan Miller.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Well done. Truly excellent. She’s certainly the talent I spent five years cultivating.” “Signing contracts behind my back, then swiftly firing the very person I handpicked for her… She’s truly surpassed the master.” Who would have thought I, Alex Thorne, would bring this trouble upon myself? But when I poured everything into teaching her, I certainly never taught her to repay kindness with enmity. The next moment, my gaze turned terrifyingly cold. “Tell the legal department to prepare a lawsuit against Evelyn Hayes for the unauthorized use of Thorne Enterprises’ corporate seal.” “Also, notify the others. They can move.” “Before sunset today, I want to see Hayes Corporation’s stock plummet.” For the next half-hour, I watched my computer screen, observing Hayes Corporation’s stock continually dipping into the red. Seven years of support, twenty-five years of shared life, all to be repaid by her letting some unknown kid publicly humiliate me. As the sun began to set, I finally received Evelyn’s call. I didn’t rush to answer. Call after call, twenty in total, before I unhurriedly picked up. “Alex Thorne, you’re behind the stock, aren’t you?” “Are you crazy? For a fish, you’re abandoning Thorne Enterprises too, aren’t you?” “Hayes Corporation and Thorne Enterprises rise and fall together! What good will this do you?!” I chuckled lightly. “Mind your tone, Ms. Hayes.” “Hayes Corporation is currently teetering on the edge of a cliff. What do you suppose would happen if I gave it another gentle push?” Silence on the other end. After a long pause, Evelyn asked, almost through gritted teeth, “What do you want, then? My dear husband.” Seeing that she had finally recognized her position and softened her tone, I cleared my throat and stated my demands. “Pay three times the project’s breach penalty, as per the contract, and then ban Dylan Miller from the company and blackball him from the entire industry. Do that, and I’ll have them stop.” “Evelyn! I don’t want to leave the company! I just got my promotion!” “You’re the CEO of Hayes Corporation, he’s just your husband! How can he just dismiss me with a single word?!” Dylan grew anxious, no longer caring if I could hear him, loudly and urgently voicing his discontent. Facing his whining, Evelyn seemed to move the phone away slightly. I vaguely heard words like “don’t be silly” and “it’s just a temporary measure.” A temporary measure, is it? Perhaps Evelyn had forgotten how she clawed her way to her current position. Without me, what could she have accomplished? Five minutes passed, and my patience was wearing thin. “Evelyn, there’s only half an hour left until sunset. You’re running out of time.” Evelyn’s voice trembled slightly. “Alex, do you really have to be so ruthless?” Seeing my silence, she understood my meaning. Her voice filled with intense resentment, yet utterly helpless, she said,

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Ben Harding, my childhood sweetheart, had gone missing on a hiking trip. This time, I called the rescue team instead of venturing into the mountains myself. In my past life, to save him, I fell off a cliff and shattered both my legs, becoming a cripple in a wheelchair. The Harding family, out of gratitude, made him marry me. I thought my secret crush had finally blossomed into true love, but what I got was twenty years of cold indifference. It wasn’t until the day of the mall fire that I used my broken body to brace against the collapsing debris, saving him and his daughter. Yet, I heard my own child sneer, “Serves you right! Who told you to break up Daddy and Chloe? You cripple should have died long ago!” Even more despairing was Ben, holding Chloe Adams tightly, exclaiming, “Thank heavens, we can finally be together!” Watching them embrace, I died filled with hatred. Reborn to this day, I smirked – if you want to be together, I’ll make it happen this time. 1 “Ellie, you just won the hiking championship; you know these mountains like the back of your hand. Only you can find Ben!” Mike Sullivan, Ben’s best friend, gripped my wrist tightly, his anxious eyes holding a calculating glint that I could now clearly see. In my previous life, he used the exact same tactic, telling me the “rescue team was too slow” to rush me into the mountains. Back then, I was frantic, heedless of the slippery mountain paths, and plunged into the pouring rain with only a thin rope. When I found Ben trapped on a broken cliff, I lost my footing while trying to save him, suffering comminuted fractures that left my legs permanently disabled. That memory cut like a knife. With a blank expression, I yanked my hand from Mike’s grasp. “The rescue team has professional equipment and experience. They’re a hundred times more capable than I am alone.” He frowned, his tone suddenly chilling. “The rescue team will take at least half an hour to get here. Ben can’t wait that long.” Seeing I remained indifferent, he raised his voice an octave. “Your childhood sweetheart is missing and possibly dying, and you’re just going to let him be? Ellie Vance, have you no conscience?” How laughable. In my previous life, I risked my life to save him, and what did I get in return? Twenty years of coldness. The undisguised disgust in his eyes when he looked at me. The cruel words, “Just seeing you makes me sick.” The first time I caught him kissing Chloe, I suggested divorce. But he refused, citing that he “didn’t want to worry his parents.” From then on, he grew even colder towards me, his daily disdain eroding my self-worth to the core. I always thought it was my disability that made him and his daughter despise me. It wasn’t until I heard the truth right before I died that I realized how ridiculous all my efforts for him had been. This time, I would absolutely not repeat the same mistakes. “If you truly want to save him, contact the rescue team immediately.” I said calmly, no longer looking at Mike’s shocked expression, and turned to leave. He grabbed me. “Ellie Vance, how can you be so cold-blooded? If you walk away today, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!” The icy rain beat on my wrist, and for a fleeting moment, I felt the bone-chilling cold of falling from the cliff in my previous life. I yanked my hand away fiercely. “Notify the rescue team. Don’t waste any more time.” I left without looking back, ignoring the furious shouts behind me. Life had taught me a harsh lesson. This time, I chose to protect myself. 2 When Ben Harding was found by the rescue team, his right arm was severely fractured. The news exploded on social media, with my former “friends” unanimously condemning me as cold-blooded and evil. “That woman used to fawn over Ben like a lost puppy, but when something actually happened, she ran faster than anyone. With that cowardice, she actually thought she could be Mrs. Harding?” “I heard Ellie Vance could have saved Ben but deliberately didn’t, hoping something bad would happen to him. What a wicked woman.” “Well, now he definitely won’t want her.” Looking at these venomous comments, my heart remained as calm as still water. In my previous life, I risked everything to save Ben, nearly losing my life, only to be met with his cold indifference as I lay dying. Even my own daughter, just because Chloe Adams took her to an amusement park a few times, treated that woman as her mother. How many times did I endure illness, pushing my wheelchair, to take my child to the amusement park? But he never remembered; he only found it embarrassing to have a mother like me. I owed neither of them anything. Reminding his friend to call the rescue team was already more than enough. Because of the incident, Ben specifically requested to see me after he woke up in the hospital. His right arm, encased in a cast, hung stiffly by his side, but his uninjured left hand was wrapped tightly around Chloe’s slender waist. “Ellie Vance, thank you for not saving me.” He smirked, his eyes glinting with triumph. “I came to tell you that my parents have agreed to my marriage with Chloe. The wedding is set for next month.” I smiled indifferently. “Congratulations.” In my past life, my marriage to Ben had two reasons: first, because I saved his life; second, because the Harding parents had discovered Chloe had been involved with several wealthy benefactors for money and didn’t want such a morally questionable woman in their family. But Ben believed I was exploiting his gratitude, forcing his parents to make him marry me, and tormented me for twenty years because of it. In this life, because I didn’t play the savior, the Harding family finally agreed to their marriage. “Ben, you finally got what you wanted,” I said flatly. He seemed surprised by my calm demeanor, and the anger in his eyes intensified. “Ellie Vance, I hope you’ll continue to be this sensible. Don’t bother me again.” With that, he pulled Chloe into a passionate kiss right in front of me, as if deliberately trying to hurt me. “Ben, you’re so naughty. Ellie, darling, will get jealous~” Chloe said, her voice cloyingly sweet, her eyes betraying a hidden triumph. My stomach churned. I had no patience for these two hypocrites and turned to leave. At that moment, my heart felt surprisingly calm, as if a twenty-year burden had been lifted. 3 I thought I’d never have anything to do with Ben again, but then I received an invitation to Grandpa Harding’s eightieth birthday gala. My parents happened to be traveling abroad and couldn’t decline, so I had to attend. Halfway through the party, I avoided the commotion and headed towards the balcony. As I turned, I accidentally bumped into someone. With a sharp crash, a priceless, ancient Roman bust tumbled from beside me, shattering into a thousand pieces on the marble floor. I looked up, meeting Ben Harding’s furious gaze. His arm was still in a cast. Chloe immediately gasped, covering her mouth. “Ellie, darling, how could you be so clumsy! That was Ben’s gift to Grandpa Harding, a genuine, rare ancient Roman bust! There are fewer than ten known pieces in the world!” As soon as she finished speaking, gasps rippled through the surrounding guests. “Oh my goodness, that’s a priceless antique. Miss Vance is too reckless!” “I heard Mr. Harding had been preparing this birthday gift for half a year. To have it ruined like this is such a tragedy.” Mike Sullivan pushed aside the onlookers and pointed at me, yelling, “Ellie Vance, last time Ben was in danger, you refused to help, and now you dare to ruin Grandpa Harding’s birthday gift? You truly have a wicked heart!” The surroundings immediately erupted in chatter: “Miss Vance and Mr. Harding were childhood sweethearts. How could she do such a thing?” “If you ask me, she should be kicked out. She’s an embarrassment to everyone.” Ben scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. “Ellie Vance, how many more tricks do you plan to pull? Do you think this will make me notice you more? What a pipe dream.” The next second, he grabbed my neck with his left hand, gritting his teeth. “Three hundred and seventy million, I want you to pay ten times that amount, three point seven billion. Otherwise, I won’t let you off the hook.” I struggled desperately, but his grip tightened. Chloe chose that moment to rush over, pretending to stop Ben, but in reality, speaking with thinly veiled malice: “Ben, honey, don’t be angry. Ellie, darling, surely didn’t mean to do it. She probably just wanted to get your attention so badly, she lost her head for a moment…” Before she could finish, Ben brutally flung me away. I staggered back a few steps, nearly falling. “Ellie Vance, I warned you, don’t cling to me anymore!” His eyes were ice cold, looking at me as if I were something disgusting. Chloe feigned kindness and walked towards me. “Ellie, darling, get up now. You’re a proper lady; don’t do such embarrassing things again…”

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My girlfriend’s name was Celeste, and she worked as a preschool teacher at a private school near my place. Curvaceous with a tiny waist, her figure was incredible, and she had a naturally adorable face. Maybe it was her profession, but she often spoke in a sweet, almost childlike voice. But her private side was a stark contrast. She was incredibly skilled, highly adventurous, and always eager to take the lead. The amazing experiences made me abandon any thoughts of just playing around and bailing. I decided to commit to her for the long haul. Then, three months into our relationship, she decided to upgrade our game… “So, would you be willing to go camping with Veronica and her boyfriend?” “When we get there, we’ll do a blindfolded draw to see who sleeps with whom?” 01 A blindfolded draw? Was this leading to a swap? I jolted at the thought, Veronica’s image immediately flashing in my mind. She was Celeste’s colleague and her best friend. The private preschool in my neighborhood charged over fifty thousand dollars a year in tuition. People with just a few bucks couldn’t even dream of buying a house in the school district, let alone afford the tuition. However, successful single dads like me, who owned their own companies and had sons, were a common sight there. Preschools of this caliber really understood their clientele. So, the quality of the teachers was top-notch, all of them stunning beauties, and Veronica was no exception. She had a different vibe than Celeste. Celeste sported long, flowing waves, exuding a rich, feminine charm, while Veronica had a sharp, shoulder-length bob, appearing ice-cold and utterly unapproachable. When Celeste and I officially started dating, we’d agreed from the beginning—due to asset protection—that we wouldn’t marry and that we’d have an open relationship. Simply put, as long as we stayed healthy, there would be no judgment or restrictions on what we did. I knew Celeste was adventurous, but Veronica, behind her prim facade, was also this open-minded? If it really played out as I imagined, if I could have that constantly aloof, haughty Veronica beneath me… Hiss… Just thinking about it, I felt a familiar stir. “Hey, are you in or not? Why are you dragging your feet?” Celeste grew impatient, habitually stamping her foot, her brows furrowed. Her entire body swayed with the motion. “I talked to Veronica for ages before she finally agreed.” She settled beside me, her hand sliding onto my thigh, her eyes playful: “Veronica says her boyfriend is really good…” “Oh? Better than me?” My competitive spirit flared. “I don’t know, let’s test it out?” Her fingers began to gently knead my thigh. The teasing made my skin tingle. I scooped her up, tossing her onto the bed, and growled: “Time for you to learn a lesson!” “Ah~” She gasped, tumbling onto the mattress, then wrapped her legs around me, gracefully arching into an S-shape, beckoning with her fingers: “Come on~ please, make me learn a real lesson~” After a long battle, I was covered in sweat, exhausted. I slapped her playfully. “Did you remember?” Celeste released the tightly clutched bedsheet and spat out the pillowcase, now bearing teeth marks. She weakly murmured, “I remembered… Get me some water, my throat’s hoarse.” I poured her a glass of water, cupped her chin, and asked, “When are we going camping?” “Let me ask…” She took a sip, pulled out her phone, typed away furiously, and soon received a reply. “Tomorrow?” she asked. “Alright,” I said, standing up. “Tomorrow, Veronica’s gonna learn a lesson too!” She smiled faintly, typed a few more rapid replies, then turned her phone screen towards me. On the screen, Veronica had replied: “Is your man any good? Don’t tell me he’s a tiny shrimp.” “He’s good,” Celeste replied. “Just got ‘schooled’ by him, I’m practically paralyzed.” Veronica sent a blushing emoji: “I’m starting to look forward to tomorrow.” With Veronica’s image filling my mind, I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I grabbed my own phone, about to check my calendar, when Celeste quickly added, “I already checked the date for you. It’s a good day for travel.” This was something I had to see for myself. I opened my phone anyway, checking the date. Celeste hadn’t lied. It was indeed a favorable day. I began to anticipate it too. 02 To ensure I was at my best, I made an exception and didn’t “trouble” Celeste, going to bed early. I woke up at the crack of dawn the next day. While I was shaving and getting ready in the bathroom, Celeste groggily stirred, a sarcastic tone in her voice: “Oh, trimming those stubble? You never bothered when I complained they scratched me, but now that you’re spending the night with Veronica, you suddenly care?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, a clear scent of jealousy in the air. I stopped shaving, a mischievous grin spreading across my face as I looked at her. “Who was it that cried out last night when those stubble grazed them?” “Go to hell!” She feigned anger, grabbing a pillow and flinging it at me. An hour later, she was finally ready too. She’d applied beautiful makeup, put in daily disposable contacts, and even affixed sparkling star stickers to the corners of her eyes. Her long, wavy hair was swept entirely to the right, revealing her left ear adorned with the dangling earrings I’d given her. Her figure-hugging pencil skirt perfectly showcased her assets as a woman. On her feet were Valentino heels paired with Balenciaga sheer stockings, making her look irresistibly seductive. This time, it was my turn to feel a pang of envy. “Hey, you haven’t worn that outfit in ages, have you?” I complained. “I’ve asked you to wear it before, and you always said it was too much trouble. But today, you suddenly don’t mind?” “Hmph~” She tilted her chin, annoyed. “You’re allowed to get dolled up, but I’m not?” I moved closer, wrapped an arm around her waist, and lifted her. “What are you doing~” She demurely squirmed, a token resistance. “Back to the bedroom, for another round,” I stated calmly. “Are you sure?” She wiggled her hips, hooking her arms around my neck, leaning entirely against me. “I’m telling you, Veronica has a much higher drive than me. If you empty your ‘clip’ on me, I don’t care, but if she’s disappointed, there won won’t be a next time.” As she spoke, she picked up her phone, opened her chat with Veronica, and tapped on a photo. “She’s wearing this today~” The image clearly showed a wine-red camisole dress! The dress was incredibly minimal, only covering the front, leaving her entire back exposed until just above the waist, where the fabric picked up again before falling to mid-thigh. Just looking at it, I could imagine that anyone wearing it would have their entire back visible. With Veronica’s demeanor and figure, in that dress… Hiss… I sucked in a sharp breath, involuntarily releasing Celeste. “Aha! You really can’t resist temptation!” She playfully slapped me. “You haven’t even seen her yet, just a picture of a dress, and you’re already twitching with anticipation?” I awkwardly scratched my head. “A man has his limits, and good steel is best used on the blade.” Her face immediately fell. “What do you mean, ‘good steel is best used on the blade’? Are you implying I’m the dull blade?” “No, no, no, my bad, my mouth just ran away from me…” I quickly mollified her with a few sweet words. This time, perhaps filled with her own anticipation, she unusually didn’t demand a gift to appease her. Instead, she grabbed my hand, skipping out the door. With a heart pounding with excitement, I dragged our suitcases to the town square, where I finally met Veronica and her boyfriend. Veronica stood there, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, the red ribbon tying it braided into a tiny pigtail that blended with her hair. She wore the dress from the photo, its wine-red fabric highlighting her alabaster skin, which gleamed strikingly in the sunlight. Her feet, shod in wine-red heels, exhibited near-perfect curves, utterly sensual. The man beside her, dragging a suitcase, clearly exercised regularly, a lean body that filled clothes nicely but was all muscle underneath. Yet, standing next to her, he seemed almost ordinary. Celeste zipped out of the car, practically ran to Veronica, and hugged her. The two then intimately linked arms, whispering to each other. Just their presence there drew the eyes of every man in the square. I guessed every guy there wanted to conquer both of them. I grinned internally in the car. After all, tonight, I might just achieve the ultimate fantasy every man dreamed of. Filled with anticipation, the two finally finished their whispers and walked towards my car. 03 After we loaded the luggage, the man settled into the passenger seat, and the two women, still inseparable, squeezed into the back. They kept their voices low, chatting about something, occasionally bursting into laughter. To join the conversation, I feigned curiosity. “Hey, Veronica, I remember you had short hair. How’d it get so long after just a few days?” Called out, Veronica’s lips twitched, her expression immediately chilling. She reached up, unclipped her hair, and with a soft tug, the entire ponytail came off! “Celeste said you liked ponytails, so I ordered this wig online,” her voice remained icy. “If you don’t like it, I don’t have to wear it.” “No, no, no!” I quickly explained. “I love it, I really do.” “Hmph!” Veronica let out a cold snort, clipping the ponytail back onto her head. The atmosphere suddenly turned awkward. Celeste quickly leaned forward, pouting playfully, “Leo~ What about my outfit~ Do you like it?” “Love it, love it…” Leo, in the passenger seat, nodded repeatedly, grinning like a fool. I glanced at Veronica in the rearview mirror. She had both hands raised, head bowed, busy re-attaching her ponytail. The alabaster skin of her arms and shoulders, the deep curve of her collarbone, and the arch of her neck, all seemed like a cheerleading squad of hundreds screaming out her feminine allure. As if sensing my gaze, she let out a cold hmph, looked up, and met my eyes in the rearview mirror. Then, her lips twitched. “Tch…” Her disdain was palpable. Damn it, what was she putting on an act for! I’d seen her chat logs with Celeste; she wasn’t this cold then. Was she cold before the fact, and then all sweetness once things got hot? I let out a cold laugh in return, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The more she acted like this, the more it fueled my competitive spirit. When we drew lots tonight, if I picked her, I would shatter that icy goddess façade! Soon, the car reached the base of the mountain and parked. For this camping trip, Celeste had chosen a secluded, barely-traveled mountain. From the base to the summit, it would normally take at least two hours to hike. But with two women, it would take much longer. They stopped frequently to take selfies. What I didn’t expect, however, was that after passing halfway up the mountain, as we neared the camping area, something unexpected happened. Veronica revealed another side of herself that no one knew.

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Introduction: The recovery specialist lifted my long dress, carefully examining my still-recovering postpartum body. Then, pulling on gloves, he knelt between my legs. He asked if I needed my husband present because he was about to begin an internal exam… 1 Three months after giving birth, my figure had bounced back. Even better, actually. Thanks to breastfeeding, my curves were more pronounced. But because I’d had a vaginal birth, Mark, my husband, often complained that things weren’t as “exciting” as before. Lately, Mark had been coming home later and later. Several times when I woke up in the middle of the night to feed the baby, I’d hear him talking softly on the phone in his study. One night, after Mark was sound asleep, I opened his WeChat. I found that he had been frequently interacting with someone named Ashley, their messages so suggestive they made my cheeks burn. And worse, I discovered they were booking hotel rooms every Tuesday! I didn’t sleep a wink that night, constantly replaying things in my head. Mark going to a hotel with someone else had to be because of my body after childbirth. So I consulted several friends and finally found a highly recommended postpartum recovery specialist. The only awkward part was, he was a man. I cautiously sought Mark’s opinion. “I heard that after the recovery sessions, you get as ‘tight’ as a young woman. I want to try it.” Perhaps he was still feeling dissatisfied from earlier, because Mark didn’t give it much thought and told me to go ahead with the recovery. “Just wear your clothes. It’s just a massage, right?” I nodded, not daring to mention that some auxiliary instruments would also be needed. But I figured as long as I set my boundaries, it would be fine. The next day, when I met Ethan, the recovery specialist, I was secretly surprised. He was young and handsome, looking only around 28 or 29. Tall and lean, with features that looked almost sculpted. Thinking about having to be bare before him soon, a blush ofc shame raced through me. I led Ethan into the bedroom, deliberately leaving the door wide open. Even though Mark wasn’t home, there would be close physical contact soon, so it was better to be cautious. “Dr. Ethan, should I lie down?” I stood awkwardly by the bed, my heart thumping. Ethan smiled and nodded. “Not yet. I need to examine your pelvis first. Just stand as you are.” He crouched in front of me. I could feel the warmth of his breath. Suddenly, his large hands lifted, and he said he needed to do a more thorough physical examination. “Spread your legs a little wider.” I hesitated, but complied. “Is it deformed?” I asked anxiously. No sooner had I spoken than his examining hands moved further down my legs. I accidentally made a slight movement, feeling instantly embarrassed. Ethan noticed, but he seemed completely accustomed to it. “Don’t be nervous. Your pelvis is largely not deformed; a simple manipulation can realign it.” “Sorry, that was embarrassing. I’ll go change.” I nodded awkwardly, twisting my nightgown tightly in my hands. To be like this in front of a stranger – it was mortifying. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. “These reactions are normal. To me, you are just my patient,” Ethan said gently, motioning for me to lie on the bed. He naturally proceeded with the next step of the recovery work, but when he saw my thong, he visibly paused. He paused for a moment before beginning the actual pelvic realignment. Ethan’s hands moved back and forth, aiming for the best realignment effect. But having just given birth, I was incredibly sensitive. Even though I tried my best to control myself, my body subtly responded involuntarily. From Ethan’s angle, those embarrassing reactions must have been completely exposed. But Ethan simply continued his work diligently. As the recovery progressed, my legs were lifted, and the pressure on my lower abdomen gradually increased for better results. He said this would help the pelvis return to its pre-pregnancy state more effectively. “If it hurts, you can vocalize it,” Ethan said, signaling me to turn on my side, one hand on my thigh, the other pressing on my pelvis. “Ah!” I couldn’t hold back and let out a sound. The recovery continued, with more pressure points being massaged. My entire body and mind felt like they were screaming in frenzy. My body began to undergo wild, surging changes. Just as I was thinking about how I could have more, he ended the massage. “Alright, today’s realignment was very effective,” Ethan said, helping me up from the bed. But then, I noticed his lower abdomen was noticeably fuller. Although I had given birth, I was still undoubtedly an attractive woman. But thinking about my body still needing recovery, and Mark’s disappointed sigh whenever he was intimate with me, an instant wave of insecurity washed over me. “Ethan, can just massage restore me to how I was before giving birth?” I still held high hopes for him. Ethan thought for a moment, then took a white rectangular box from his toolkit. When he opened it, inside were various sizes of oval silicone spheres. “These are pelvic floor weights,” Ethan explained carefully. “They can help strengthen your pelvic floor muscles.” I felt a blush creep up my neck. “Which size should I start with?” “I can check for you,” Ethan offered, his voice gentle. He reached for a pair of gloves and pulled them on. “That way, we’ll know which size is best for you.” I understood immediately. My heart fluttered with an unexpected mix of anticipation and embarrassment. “However, this is an internal exam,” Ethan said, his gloved hands poised. “Do you need your husband present?” “N-no… no need,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. This was for a medical purpose, for my health. Why would Mark object? “Alright, just lie back down,” Ethan said, his gaze unwavering. He knelt beside the bed, preparing for the examination. “Will these things really help?” I asked, my face hot, my initial awkwardness now overshadowed by a strange curiosity. He studied me for a long moment, a flicker in his eyes before he composed himself. Then, he reached out, his gloved hand moving to begin the check. I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands clenching the sheets, wishing for it to be over quickly. “Your situation isn’t ideal,” Ethan stated, his voice a low hum. “I’ll try another tool to re-examine.” His hand withdrew, and a strange wave of disappointment washed over me. Then, something else made contact, something that felt… wrong. I snapped my eyes open, and oh god… PREMIUM CONTENT AHEAD Unlock the rest of this story for a deeper dive into Emily’s transformation. Ethan, in the end, couldn’t hold back. He crossed the line. And had I not, in my own way, crossed it too? My rational mind screamed that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing something like this. But I couldn’t help it; I found myself wanting to claim this strikingly handsome man for myself. I consciously pushed aside the gnawing guilt, immersing myself in the fleeting pleasure of the moment. When it was over, I gently brushed the stray hairs from his forehead. But then, the realization hit me like a physical blow. I was married, I had a child. What kind of delusion was this? And worse, I had just physically cheated! My cheeks, which had only just begun to cool, flushed crimson again. Mark might be critical, but he hadn’t actually done anything to directly betray me. And he had trusted me so completely, allowing me to be alone with a male postpartum specialist… I had betrayed that trust. The direction this plot had taken was something I’d never imagined. What was I supposed to do now? Ethan quickly got dressed, his breathing steady, saying nothing. “Are you leaving?” I asked, my voice thin. “Today’s session is complete.” He was perfectly calm, as if the intimacy we’d just shared had involved someone else entirely. My mind was a chaotic mess, but I nodded blankly. Perhaps it would be better to treat it as a regular therapy session, for neither of us to say another word about it? “When is the next one?” I couldn’t help but ask as Ethan reached for the door. “Once a week. I’ll come again next week at this time.” He glanced at me, then hurried out, leaving my confusion untouched. I couldn’t stop replaying the afternoon we’d spent together. This wasn’t just ordinary interaction; it was fundamentally different. I tried to rationalize it: who could refuse someone as attractive as Ethan in that situation? But truthfully, I also admitted that I was just as bad, as much a “player” as any guy who couldn’t resist a beautiful woman. I deserved to be condemned. “Let me see today’s results,” Mark said, pulling me into the bedroom later that night. I felt incredibly anxious, terrified he might notice something off. Afterwards, he frowned. My stomach clenched. “No real improvement.” Mark seemed merely disappointed, but seeing his expression, a fresh wave of resentment washed over me. “It takes a few sessions…” “Can we fix this while you’re at it? I remember, you didn’t have any extra weight on your stomach before.” Mark pointed to my abdomen. I looked down in surprise. For a woman only a few months postpartum, my stomach was remarkably flat – a figure many would envy. But Mark had probably been dissatisfied with it for a long time. Was that why his enthusiasm had been so low? Mark used to compliment me, but his standards had always been high. If I wore an outfit he didn’t approve of, he’d tell me to change before leaving the house. I covered my midsection with my hand, wanting to explain, but Mark was already snoring. Unable to sleep, I went to another room to do a plank. My mind drifted back to the afternoon with Ethan. Back then, I’d felt happy, satisfied. Part of me yearned for Ethan to come again, while another part dreaded new developments that could spiral out of control. It was a contradictory feeling, like being pricked by needles. The week that followed was undeniably agonizing. The doorbell rang precisely on time. I opened the door to see Ethan, dressed sharply in white, looking handsome and composed. But his expression gave no hint of what had transpired between us. I nervously clasped my hands, glancing at Ethan. He, however, followed his routine, preparing and then beginning the recovery work. My body was still sensitive, but as I subtly observed Ethan, I found him completely unmoved. From start to finish, he only did what was expected of him. To be honest, I felt a little disappointed. Did he, like Mark, find my body unsatisfying? “Last time, we…” I began, my voice trailing off. He seemed to stiffen, speeding up his packing of the equipment. Seeing his reaction, a flicker of anger ignited within me. I couldn’t help but challenge him. “You took advantage, and now you’re acting like nothing happened?” “What else do you want?” Ethan’s counter-question left me stunned. Indeed, what else did I want? Besides, I certainly didn’t want to talk about it. “Are you… dissatisfied with me?” Ethan paused, then seemed to grasp my meaning. “Last time was an accident. It was a lapse in my professional conduct, something I’d rather not discuss. It had nothing to do with you.” Hearing that, a wave of relief washed over me. At least it wasn’t because of my body that he was cold to me. “How’s my recovery progressing now?” Ethan said there had been improvements, but that I needed to combine the sessions with daily exercises. I nodded, asking if we could speed up the process. He thought for a moment, then said if I was willing, we could do two sessions a week. I agreed immediately. After Ethan left, I felt an emptiness inside. But the thought of him coming again in a few days brightened my mood. What was happening to me? My life must have been too boring. Then I remembered Mark’s comment about the “extra weight.” Ignoring the fact that I was still in postpartum recovery, I threw myself into exercise. But Mark’s scrutinizing gaze made me exceptionally miserable. “So, have things gotten any better recently?” “Still something missing.” He didn’t even look at me, answering offhandedly. Mark was called to work late, leaving me feeling down. I poured myself a glass of wine. I was trying so hard, so why was it still not enough? As I downed a few more glasses, these questions drifted away. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Ethan. We had an appointment for the next day, but he said something urgent had come up and he couldn’t make it. “If it’s convenient for you, I can come over now.” I was already tipsy, not ideal for a meeting with him, but I agreed on a whim. When Ethan walked in, he looked at me for a long time. I knew my face was flushed, and probably other parts of my skin too, from the alcohol. Ethan said nothing, simply put on his disposable gloves, as usual. As the session began, fueled by the wine, I stared intently at the handsome man before me. “Tell me the truth, what do you really think of me?” I poured out all my grievances about Mark’s dissatisfaction. “From your perspective, am I also really awful?” I asked with a bitter laugh. He remained silent until this point, then he looked up. “You are exceptional,” he said. I paused, almost believing his sincerity, but then chuckled, thanking him for the comfort. “It’s not comfort. Among all the people I’ve worked with, you are truly outstanding.” Given Ethan’s profession, he must have seen many women. I still didn’t quite believe him, asking him to confirm repeatedly. “If you’re telling the truth, then let’s do it again.” The wine had given me a reckless courage. I leaned tentatively towards him. He didn’t pull away, nor did he respond as I’d hoped. He simply continued the previous conversation. “You have everything, why would you lack confidence?” Ethan’s question offered me a moment of clarity, a chance to reflect on my life. When did I start losing my confidence? I had always been one of the prettiest girls in class, in school, praised since childhood. When did I start doubting myself, feeling insecure? It was probably after I got married. After marriage, I felt like I lost myself. This conclusion shocked me. I didn’t dare to dwell on it. “Given your background, why this job?” I recovered, changing the subject, voicing my confusion. He said my question sounded like I was looking down on his profession. I quickly explained I wasn’t, saying I was simply curious because many men wouldn’t choose this line of work. “It’s just a job. As long as it pays well.” True. Everyone who sought Ethan’s services paid top dollar. He made good money with his skills. Why would he care what others thought? Yet, I couldn’t help but ask if he truly adhered to his professional boundaries as strictly as he claimed. I told him that given the intimate nature of the contact, I would understand if he hadn’t. He didn’t even lift an eyelid, his hands still busy with the recovery work. He simply replied that he hadn’t before. “So, I’m an exception?” Ethan nodded. My heart pounded, and I felt a surge of pride, as if a long-lost confidence had been rediscovered. I saw Ethan out, then stood in front of the mirror for a long time, examining myself from every angle. I wasn’t that bad after all. Thinking this, my spirits felt unusually light. I cooked dinner, feeling genuinely happy. When Mark came home, he picked up his chopsticks and took a bite. I waited for his feedback on the meal, but nothing came. “How is it?” I couldn’t help but ask.

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