I’ve been crazy about Ethan Cole for ages, like, forever. Today was supposed to be our engagement party. I seriously wanted to shout my happiness from the rooftops. … Inside the bridal boutique. I kinda lost myself just looking at him next to me, a sweet little smile playing on my lips without me even realizing it. “Ethan, what do you think of this dress? Do you like it?” I tilted my head up slightly to look at him, my eyes shining bright, my hopeful gaze maybe a little too eager to please. He just stayed silent, distant, like always. My heart sank a little. When I saw his eyes sweep over me, I quickly looked down, pretending to adjust the dress, trying hard to hide how disappointed I felt. “Sorry, we’ve been looking for so long, you must be tired. Actually, I… I have something I need to tell you. Something really important.” I bit my lip, looking down, probably looking pretty pathetic and small. 2 His deep eyes scanned me, his brow furrowed slightly. His voice was flat, no emotion. “Go ahead. I have work to get back to soon.” I silently cheered myself on inside. Ava Fischer, you can do this! Make him see! Make him understand that you two being together isn’t just because your parents wanted it. Tell him how you feel. All those feelings you’ve bottled up for years, that intense, deep love! I gripped my trembling hands together, took a deep breath. “Ethan, ever since I was little, I’ve—” Just then, the bell over the boutique door chimed loudly, “Welcome~” cutting me right off. My courage deflated like a popped balloon. The sound drew both our attention, and we looked towards the entrance together. A young couple walked in. “Come on in! It took me forever to find this place,” the woman said, her smile bright and charming. 3 I instinctively glanced back at Ethan beside me. And in that second, I froze. A chill ran straight through me, bone-deep. The man who was always so cool and distant with me… his breathing suddenly seemed ragged, his chest rising and falling quickly. Ethan’s eyes were locked onto that woman, and they held so, so many emotions… Shock? Joy? Hurt? Anger? Angry, hurt, deeply indignant. Did they know each other? What… what was their relationship? Panic seized me. I was too scared to even think about it anymore. I couldn’t help but reach out and grab Ethan’s arm, my voice soft, pleading, “Ethan, I’m a little tired. Let’s just go home, okay?” 4 It was like Ethan couldn’t even hear me. His sharp eyes were still glued to that woman. He heartlessly pushed my hand away and slowly walked towards her. I clearly saw the woman’s face tense up too, her eyes darting away, the rims starting to turn a tell-tale red. But the guy with her seemed completely clueless, happily looking at dresses with the sales consultant. Ethan walked right up to the girl, furious. He suddenly grabbed her wrist, his intense gaze fixed on her. “Come with me!” For a split second, everything went dead silent. The man with the woman reacted instantly, shoving the door open and chasing after them. Only after they were gone did I snap out of it, like waking from a dream, and ran after them. But when I reached the door and pushed it open, I stopped dead in my tracks, trembling all over. I saw Ethan’s bodyguard, his assistant, blocking the man who had run out. And Ethan… Ethan, who was always so composed and detached, had tears welling in his own eyes as he crushed the heartbroken, crying woman against him, holding her so tight it looked like he wanted to merge her into himself. His voice was a raw, choked whisper. “Lily… Lily…” “Don’t leave me…” 5 In that moment, I swear I heard my own heart shatter. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my chest, making it impossible to breathe. My love, my marriage… was it over before it even began? I couldn’t stay there a second longer. Under the pitying gazes of the shop assistants, I stumbled out, shaking. I wandered down the street like a ghost, freezing cold inside. People passing by gave me strange, curious looks. It wasn’t until a light breeze blew that I realized tears had been streaming down my face for who knows how long. I must look like a complete wreck right now. Like some lost soul, just drifting aimlessly. I don’t know how much time passed before I finally, numbly, made it home. I pushed open the familiar door. My pupils constricted violently. 6 There, on the floor… Lay a pair of unfamiliar nude high heels. Whose shoes were these? Why were they in the house Ethan and I were supposed to share? I didn’t care about anything else anymore. I slammed the door shut and bolted up the stairs towards the bedroom. I threw open the bedroom door. That woman, Lily, was wearing my pajamas and my slippers, casually looking around my room like she owned the place. In that instant, something inside my head just snapped. Anger, jealousy, hatred, heartbreak… All these tangled emotions exploded inside me. Shaking, I pointed a finger at her, demanding, “Who are you? Why are you in my house?” Lily acted like I’d said the funniest thing ever, letting out a giggle. After she finished laughing, she looked at me with pity. “So, you’re Ava Fischer. You do look a bit like me, no wonder you managed to stick around Ethan for so long. But now that the real deal is back, you little imposter should just get lost. As far away as possible.” 7 It felt like all the strength drained out of me. My heart ached with a thousand tiny pinpricks. My body swayed; I could barely stand. The man I’d loved for seven years, my fiancé, had apparently been using me as a stand-in for this woman the whole time. So, when he was in a good mood, his eyes full of tenderness, calling me… calling me Ava… was he even thinking of me? What was I then? What the hell was I? Lily smirked at me, but her voice was deceptively soft. “Looks like your position as Mrs. Cole-to-be isn’t so secure anymore. As far as I know, this was supposed to be your marital home, right? Did you know, I just casually mentioned I liked it here, and Ethan’s already planning to buy it for me? I just have to mention wanting something to eat, and he’ll drive out in the middle of the night to get it and feed it to me, bite by bite. He smiles gently at me, tells me all those sweet nothings couples say. But you? You get nothing. He doesn’t love you at all. With you, he’ll always just be cold and impatient.” Every word she said stabbed at my heart, tearing it apart. I was furious, trembling with rage. Then, her next sentence made my anger explode like a balloon popping. She stood up, looked me up and down like I was a piece of merchandise, and then scoffed. “I heard from Ethan… he hasn’t even touched you yet, right? Do you know why?” 8 “Because you make him sick. Just looking at you makes him want to puke.” “Take the hint and get out while you can.” I completely lost it. I grabbed the fruit knife from the table and screamed hysterically at her, “In your dreams, you bitch! Even if I die, I won’t let you win! Mrs. Cole can only be me! I want to see you wanting Ethan and never getting him! I want to see you miserable and desperate!” My outburst clearly scared Lily. Her face went pale, her eyes instantly reddened, tears brimming but not falling, making her look incredibly pitiful. “Ava, please don’t misunderstand… I just happened to go to that bridal shop. I honestly don’t want to fight you for Ethan. Yes, I love him very much, but you’re already with him, I can’t… I really can’t…” By this point, she was sobbing uncontrollably. I hesitated, suspicious. What game was she playing now, switching her attitude like this? But the next second, I understood. 9 Ethan appeared out of nowhere. He forcefully grabbed the knife from my hand. I lost my balance and fell hard, scraping my cheek painfully against the floor. Ethan didn’t even glance at me whimpering on the ground. He carefully pulled Lily into his arms, shielding her. Then, his face grim, he towered over me and demanded, “Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what you were doing? Apologize to Lily right now!” Me, crazy? Heh. A bottomless despair washed over me. “Yeah, I must be crazy! If I weren’t crazy, how could I have fallen for a cold-blooded, heartless jerk like you!” Ethan looked furious. “What did you say?” Me, who had always tried so hard to please him, suddenly found a courage I never knew I had. The words just tumbled out. “Was I wrong? You have a fiancée, but you’re messing around with this… this other woman! Did you ever once think about how I feel? About our parents?” Ethan froze, momentarily speechless. The room fell silent. 10 Seeing things weren’t going her way, Lily whimpered softly, looking utterly vulnerable. “Ethan, let me go. Please, just let me go. I love you so much, but we’re in the past. Please let me go. You have a fiancée now. I don’t want to be the other woman, destroying your life. Let me go…” Ethan panicked, holding her even tighter, rambling reassurances, “I know you’re not the other woman! It’s my fault. I’ll fix this, okay? Just give me a little more time. I really can’t lose you again…” I watched them coldly, my heart already aching too much to breathe. Lily squirmed in his arms, pretending to want to leave, but they only seemed to cling tighter, press closer… I couldn’t take it anymore. Covering my face, I ran out the door… The way he cherished Lily, down to his bones, only highlighted how pathetic and small I was. I ran out into the empty street, squatted down, and just sobbed my heart out. After I cried myself out, I made a decision. “I’m calling off the engagement!” … 11 When I told my girlfriends about my decision, none of them believed me. “No way, Ava, are you kidding us? Weren’t you the one crying and begging to marry him?” “Okay, I always thought you were way too into him, but honestly, the guy you picked is pretty damn good. He’s got the looks, he’s got the brains.” “Plus, he’s so steady, squeaky clean private life, never messes around with other women.” “Seriously, you worked so hard for this, finally got your dream guy. You should be thrilled.” … I managed a smile that felt worse than crying. “His old flame, his first love… she’s back.” Truth be told, before that Lily showed up… I used to believe you could warm someone’s heart, eventually. In my twenty-something years, loving him felt like the only thing I’d ever stuck with for so long. Stuck with it until my love, my willingness to compromise, became a habit. 12 I met him during a high school club event off-campus. I’d gotten separated from my best friend that day, and my phone battery was about to die. And I have a terrible sense of direction; without GPS, I’m totally lost. Just when I was about to give up under the blazing sun, he appeared. In that instant, it felt like I got struck by lightning. My mind went completely blank. Me, usually pretty outgoing and confident… Suddenly understood what it meant to be awkward and self-conscious. The second I saw him… I started worrying. Did my makeup look weird because of the sun? Was my whole ‘young and energetic’ outfit trying too hard? That BBQ stain on my shirt from lunch suddenly felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric. Right then, I knew. I was done for. I’d caught the love bug, bad.

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I suspected my husband was cheating. The first inkling came from that weird text message. Ding— “Who’s texting you this late?” I quickly rinsed my hands under the faucet, wiped them absently on my apron, and peeked my head out from the kitchen. “It’s Leo,” Jack said, a flash of nervousness crossing his face. He held up his phone as if showing me, explaining, “He’s fighting with his girlfriend again, wanted some advice.” Before I could get a clear look, he snatched the phone back. Maybe it was just basic marital trust, but I didn’t question him then. I pulled my head back into the kitchen, brought out two steaming plates of food that actually looked pretty good, and joked, “If he’s really taking advice from you, he’ll probably be single forever.” “Hey, are you doubting your husband’s skills?” “Stop it,” I laughed, pushing his arm away as he tried to hug me – I’m ticklish. “You smell like cooking oil. Go wash up, dinner’s ready.” Right as we were eating, his phone rang again. Jack answered, then hung up looking apologetic. “Leo and his girlfriend are really going at it. He wants me to go over and mediate.” “Okay, let me come with you,” I said immediately, putting down my chopsticks, ready to get up. “No, it’s okay,” he said quickly. “You know Leo, he gets embarrassed easily. Too many people will just make it worse. I’ll be back later, don’t wait up.” “Just try to smooth things over, okay? Don’t go giving him any crazy ideas,” I reminded him, still feeling a little uneasy. It was already seven PM. Watching him practically jog to the car, I still felt worried, so I called Leo myself. When he picked up, it sounded noisy in the background, definitely not like he was at home. Even then, it didn’t fully click that something was wrong. I started right in, “Look, girls get moody sometimes, just be sweet to her, okay? And whatever you do, don’t listen to any dumb advice Jack gives you.” “Uh, Sarah? What are you talking about?” Leo sounded completely lost. “Aren’t you fighting with your girlfriend? Jack’s already on his way over. Seriously, don’t let him mess things up.” “Oh! Right… yeah, we had a fight. Don’t worry, Sarah, I got this.” After hanging up, a seed of doubt started to grow. Maybe it’s true what they say about a woman’s intuition, especially when it comes to men and relationships. Like a detective, you find one tiny clue, and you can’t stop until you’ve uncovered the whole truth. The next day, I was about to toss Jack’s dirty shirt into the laundry when I hesitated. Maybe it was Leo’s obviously fake phone call playing on my mind. On impulse, I lifted the shirt to my nose. A heavy, sickeningly sweet perfume clung to it. Coco Mademoiselle. I only ever wear cool, crisp scents, maybe something woody. I’d never buy a perfume that sweet. For the smell to be that strong, lingering like that… it meant being close to someone for a long time. Very close. My fingers tightened on the fabric. Doubt had been there, simmering, but I hadn’t wanted to believe the worst. “Hey, can I use your phone? Mine’s dead,” I asked, sitting on the couch. I’d seen in the reflection of his glasses that he was looking at photos. Jack tensed up, fumbling for a second before handing it over. The home screen was clean, no weird apps. His contacts list only had friends and family we both knew, barely any business contacts. The text messages were empty. I tapped on WhatsApp. A password prompt appeared. Habitually, I typed in my birthday. Password incorrect. Again. Incorrect. My eyes started to sting. Just as I was about to give the phone back, defeated, a notification popped up at the top of the screen: “I miss you. Come keep me company.” The words flashed and disappeared. 2. A dull ache started in my chest, but I forced myself to act casual, handing the phone back as if I hadn’t seen a thing. Sure enough, Jack glanced at the screen, saw the message, and shot a guilty look my way. Seeing my blank expression, he visibly relaxed. We only got together after he broke up with his college girlfriend. He started dating me, supposedly, to get over her. I fell for him back then because he seemed so devoted. Even though his ex treated him like her personal ATM, he never complained and always kept a respectful distance from other women. The guy who seemed so loyal back then… I couldn’t quite believe he’d cheat on me now. Even if he didn’t love me, the evidence was piling up, and I couldn’t just ignore it. Over the next few days, I watched him constantly. He’d stare at his phone, smiling stupidly to himself, then quickly hide it with a guarded look if I walked nearby. Sometimes, I’d wake up in the middle of the night and faintly hear him whispering on the phone. I didn’t have concrete proof, but all the signs pointed to it: the man I’d poured all my tenderness into, trying to heal his past hurts, was cheating on me. Still, I felt a bitter resentment. Resentment that the marriage I’d worked so hard to maintain could be wrecked by some homewrecker. Resentment that the man I’d painstakingly helped put back together was about to be snatched up by someone else who hadn’t done any of the work. That evening, Jack came home looking apologetic. “Honey, I’m so sorry. Something came up at work, they just told me I have to go on a business trip for a week.” Tomorrow was our first wedding anniversary. I’d been planning for it for ages. “Can’t it wait until the day after tomorrow?” I dug my nails into my palms, fighting to keep my voice steady, not wanting to arouse suspicion. Jack’s parents built their company from the ground up. He rarely had to travel for work. This sudden trip felt highly suspicious. “You know how it is with the company,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “It’s feast or famine. When things are slow, they’re slow, but when something urgent comes up, you can’t delay it.” “I was just kidding,” I forced a smile, my heart feeling like a block of ice. “Work’s important. I’ll help you pack later.” “Okay,” he said, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before heading cheerfully to the bathroom. “Wait for me.” Ding— His phone chimed with a WhatsApp notification. I glanced towards the bathroom – he was still showering. I quickly grabbed the phone. Tilting it towards the light, I could see faint smudges on the screen over certain numbers on the keypad, marks from being pressed repeatedly. After a few tries, the WhatsApp password unlocked. Pinned to the top was a chat labeled “Wendy (Mentee).” I opened it. The latest message was from her: Boss, I booked the hotel. What do you think? Pretty nice, right? Below it were pictures of different themed ‘fantasy’ suites and rooms with big, round beds. My mind went blank. My chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing my heart. I heard movement from the bathroom – Jack was getting out. I quickly closed the chat, marked the message as unread, and put the phone back exactly where it was. Jack came out, walking quickly, looking flustered. When he saw the phone untouched in its usual spot, he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh of relief. Thinking about that message felt like swallowing fish bones – stuck in my throat. I watched him pick up the phone, his eyes glued to the screen. A mess of conflicting emotions churned inside me. I deliberately walked closer. He stiffened, instantly defensive, snapped the phone shut, and stood up. “Uh, work emergency. I need to make a call on the balcony. Honey, why don’t you go take your shower?” I stared at his back. In the reflection on the window, I could clearly see the soft, adoring smile on his face as he talked. A smile I’d never seen directed at me. My heart clenched painfully again. Just as he was about to hang up, I finally went into the bathroom. I turned on the shower, letting the hot water and the noise cover the sound of my tears. It felt like I could hide the fact I was crying if the water washed them away. Maintaining this relationship had taken almost everything I had. Right now, I just felt incredibly tired. When I came out, he was fiddling with his phone, completely preoccupied. He didn’t even notice my red, swollen eyes. “Can you really not love me?” I forced my lips into a smile, trying to sound casual. Maybe deep down, there was still a sliver of hope I wasn’t even aware of. He probably didn’t even hear me properly. He just wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me onto the bed, and said eagerly, “I’m leaving tomorrow. You need to give me a proper send-off tonight.” To avoid making him suspicious, I didn’t push him away. Maybe he was all fired up from talking to her. He was rougher than usual tonight, almost frantic. I swallowed down the nausea rising in my throat and just let him finish, tears silently sliding down my cheeks onto the pillow. Afterward, I immediately rolled over, facing away from him, pretending to be exhausted and asleep. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Jack carefully slipped out of bed, clutching his phone, and tiptoed back out to the balcony to make another call

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I slept with my boss, Julian Vance. On Liam’s birthday, of all days. It happened after a work dinner. I got totally wasted, and Vance took me back to his hotel room. He laid me on the bed, took off my shoes, and then, after a few seconds of silence, he suddenly leaned over me. Through my drunken haze, I saw his face close up, usually so cool and aloof. In that moment, all his usual authority and chill vanished, leaving only eyes softened by desire. He undid my belt, his hand slipping inside my clothes. Instinctively, I tried to push his wrist away, my eyes wide with shock. He licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he breathed shallowly. “You can say no,” he murmured. I didn’t say no. Not only that, I pulled him down and kissed him back, hard. Wildly. My kiss left him breathless, pushing him over the edge. Raw need radiated off him. He muttered something about never expecting someone with an innocent face like mine could be so wild in bed. Seeing that playful look in his eyes snuffed out my own burst of raw abandon. An indescribable weight settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe. It became unbearable, and tears started streaming down my face. 2 The morning alarm jolted me awake. My phone screen showed dozens of missed calls. From Liam. He hadn’t slept all night. He’d called from 8 PM to 8 AM. Probably worried he’d disturb me if I was busy, so he called once every hour. My battery was almost dead. Thinking of him reminded me: yesterday was his birthday. Ever since freshman year of high school, I’d been there for his birthday. Every single year. Even when he clearly didn’t want me there, I’d shamelessly stick around. I remember senior year, that summer right after graduation, when everyone was about to scatter to different colleges across the country. He planned to confess his feelings for Sarah Miller at his birthday party. And guess who planned the whole surprise confession setup, paying for it out of her own pocket? Me. — Absolutely no self-respect. Liam was crazy about Sarah. He’d adored her for three solid years. However low I stooped for him, that’s how much lower he stooped for Sarah. But his love for her felt… nobler than mine for him. Mine was relentless chasing; his was quiet support from the sidelines. In the last month of senior year, Sarah started dating the class valedictorian. I skipped class with Liam, got drunk with him, and together we risked bombing the SATs and screwing up our whole lives by running away to some unfamiliar city – Austin, I think it was. I had these boundless dreams about our future together. I thought, even if his life went completely off the rails, I’d stick by him. Even if the whole world turned its back on him, I wouldn’t leave. I was lost in my infatuation with him, but one sentence from him snapped me back to reality. He said, “She doesn’t have to be with me. All I want is for her to be happy.” He said it so calmly, just like those devoted supporting male characters in books and movies, the ones who silently protect the heroine, willing to give everything, always ready to step in, just hoping she might notice him, spare him a glance. In that instant, my world shattered. The person I loved so much, the one I was willing to give up everything for, was willing to be less than dust for someone else. He wouldn’t even spare me a kind look, yet he’d let his heart be pulverized for her. I became the dust beneath the dust. For the first time, I felt utterly worthless. Looking at myself in the mirror, suddenly nothing seemed to matter. Being pretty, getting good grades, coming from a good family – none of it meant anything to him. He didn’t see it. He didn’t see me. His indifference cast a shadow over my entire life. But I still chased him for three more years. It wasn’t until we were about to graduate from college that he finally agreed to be with me. When that moment came, I felt no joy, no thrill of finally getting what I wanted. Just exhaustion and forced endurance. I knew deep down that the constant care I showed him in the years that followed wasn’t love anymore. It was obsession. A stubborn refusal to let go. I was holding onto this bitter grudge. Because of that grudge, I had to see it through to the end. An end that no longer held any meaning for me. It was like settling a score for my neglected, long-dead feelings. Like those women who find out their husbands cheated after decades of marriage, when they’re old and faded, but refuse to divorce. She’s already lost everything of herself, unable to accept ending up with nothing, unable to watch the bastard live happily ever after with someone else. So, it becomes scorched earth. Even if there’s no love left, even if it’s pure hate, they stay bound together. Mutual destruction. Shared ruin. That was my mindset being with him. I knew it from the start. “Where were you last night?” When I got home, breakfast was already on the table. Liam really knew how to live. He loved tending to plants, decorating his place, knew all the little life hacks and details. Most importantly, he loved to cook and watch people enjoy his food. In the years we’d been together, he’d definitely fattened me up. Sarah Miller was blind. A guy like him – stable, domestic, good inside and out – marrying him would be any woman’s blessing. I didn’t love him, but that didn’t stop me from appreciating him. I always thought he was a great guy. No flaws, really, except for how he failed me emotionally. Though honestly, I didn’t have much ground to stand on, saying he failed anyone. From the beginning, his stance was crystal clear. He tried hard to reject me. I was the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer. I brought this on myself. “I was at a work dinner with Mr. Vance. Got a little drunk, figured it wasn’t safe to go home alone so late, so I got a room at a hotel.” Guilt made me keep my eyes down while I answered, focusing on eating. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I told you I could pick you up.” “I didn’t need you to.” My reply was sharp, almost cold. His expression faltered, eyes dropping with a hint of disappointment as he picked up the carton to pour me some milk. I was constantly forcing myself to be independent. Terrified of getting used to his thoughtfulness. Because what if Sarah came back someday, snapped her fingers, and he ran right back to her? What would I do then? I refused to be that pitiful girl ever again. “Have some warm milk first, it’ll settle your stomach.” He placed the glass near my hand. I didn’t reach for it. He sat across the table, just watching me. Feeling his gaze, I frowned, trying hard to look like I was just hungover, not like I’d spent his birthday night cheating on him, passionately servicing another man. “Anna, are you short on cash?” He pulled out a bank card and slid it across the table towards me. “There’s fifty thousand in here. It’s money I was saving for a down payment on a house, for when we get married. If you need it, take it for now. If it’s not enough, I can borrow more.” I was confused about why he thought I needed money when my phone buzzed twice on the table. A Venmo notification popped up. “Received $100,000.” Liam’s face suddenly turned ugly. He was usually so polite; in all our years together, he rarely pried into my affairs. But now, he snatched my phone before I could react. Ignoring my struggles, he held it high out of reach, walked away, and opened Venmo with a cold expression to see who sent the money. I scrambled onto a chair trying to grab it back, but it was too late. “Why did Julian Vance send you money?” His eyes were so cold they could freeze water. My heart hammered against my ribs. I avoided his gaze. Furious, he scooped me up, carried me into the living room, and dumped me on the sofa. He pinned me down, trying to lift my skirt to check… something? I fought back hard, and he dropped the pretense. “I was outside your hotel room last night.” “You didn’t come out all night.” 3 His words felt like a bomb detonating in my chest. My mouth fell open. I was stunned, unable to form any defense. My heart pounded wildly, threatening to burst out of my chest. I tried to speak again, still nothing. I gave up. It was just an accident. Before I could get the words out, Liam’s eyes reddened with fury. He looked both angry and devastated, like someone who just found out a person they trusted their whole life had been lying all along. “Selling yourself for money? Anna, you’re college-educated, for crying out loud! What kind of trouble are you in? Why can’t you tell me so we can solve it together? Do you think I’m useless?!” Surprisingly, his first reaction wasn’t anger about the cheating itself, but concern about what desperation drove me to sell my body. He couldn’t comprehend it. I have to admit, his sincerity softened me again. If he had yelled at me, accused me right then, I might have found the courage to end things. Too bad. He wasn’t blaming, just… bewildered and hurt. “I don’t need money. It… it was an accident.” My answer didn’t seem to surprise Liam at all. He’d been unhappy for days when he first learned I was going to be Julian Vance’s assistant. Vance’s playboy reputation was legendary. From A-list celebrities down to wannabe actresses, anyone remotely attractive seemed to end up photographed by his side, swapped out almost weekly. How could Liam possibly feel okay about me working closely with someone like that? In the past, if he’d acted moody about it, I would have been secretly thrilled, imagining my dear Liam was finally getting possessive, showing a tiny bit of interest in me. But he wasn’t the Liam I longed for anymore. So when he objected, I ignored him completely. Eventually, he gave up arguing and just started monitoring my curfew. If I was late, even by a little, he’d show up immediately. Sometimes at the office, sometimes waiting outside a restaurant. How could I have forgotten that? No, wait. Last night, I had wanted to leave. It was Vance who insisted on taking me to his room. He must have planned it all along. “This is sexual assault. I’m calling Mark.” Mark was his childhood friend, a partner at a top law firm. A big-shot lawyer. He’d handled countless major cases, he wouldn’t be intimidated by Julian Vance. “Don’t…” I grabbed his sleeve to stop him. What Vance did last night… it was taking advantage of me being drunk. But he had said I could refuse. And I hadn’t. If this went to court, and a man like Vance, used to navigating these situations, suddenly produced a recording… What shred of dignity would I have left? Seeing me stop him, Liam’s expression turned dark, intense. He stared at me, as if trying to see right through me. “You wanted it?” Caught, I quickly turned away, trying to escape his gaze. He gripped my wrist hard, his eyes red, almost bleeding. “Anna, yesterday was my birthday… How could you?” “And you’re so innocent?!” Backed into a corner, I dropped all pretense too, coldly shaking off his hand, questioning him with a sneer. “Last year, when Sarah came back, weren’t you the one who spent the night with her in a hotel?” His eyes widened slightly in surprise. He thought I didn’t know. Because that night, I was away on a business trip. Around 11 PM, I texted him, and he didn’t reply. Then, scrolling through social media, I saw a video posted by a classmate. It showed him and Sarah, hugging. That classmate had some nerve. Knowing we were together, even talking about getting married, and still posting a video like that specifically for me to see. The caption read: “Liam finally got his goddess.” I can barely remember how I felt at that moment. Maybe I felt nothing. When pain reaches a certain point, you just go numb. I think that was the day I completely gave up on him. If, before that, I still held onto a tiny, hidden hope that time could heal things, that we might reconcile someday… That day shattered even that fragile hope. There was no love left for him. None. “You…” His eyes flickered. He was clearly shocked, probably never imagining I knew he’d seen Sarah. All his earlier fury dissolved into guilt. He couldn’t face the fact that he had deceived me. A self-righteous hypocrite exposed – it was almost comical how powerless he looked. I deliberately smirked, patting his cheek condescendingly. “Looks like we’re even. Maybe we should just turn a blind eye.” “I didn’t…” He started to explain, but I cut him off. 4 It took me an hour to pack my things. I could do it so quickly probably because I’d always been mentally prepared for an exit like this. After that incident with Sarah, she became my recurring nightmare. I’d even dream about them, side-by-side, happy together. I dreaded hearing that Sarah was back in town. Every time she came home for summer break or holidays, it put me on high alert. I’d pretend not to care, but secretly, I’d be obsessively trying to find out any news about the two of them, searching for any possibility they might meet up, might get together. Like a crazy person. “Anna, please let me explain.” Liam blocked the bedroom door, banging on it, refusing to let me leave, insisting on explaining. “It was a class reunion! A bunch of us stayed over, nothing happened!” I laughed, pulling the door open to look at his face, so earnest and innocent, like he was genuinely wronged. “Really? Am I not your classmate? Why wasn’t I invited? Let me guess—oh, right. They wanted to help you get together with your goddess?” That was the most ironic part of the whole thing. — I was basically ostracized by our entire graduating class. He and Sarah were the couple they shipped. In their eyes, I was just the crazy, interfering third wheel who should get lost. No wonder someone deliberately posted that video for me to see. It was only then that I truly saw myself clearly. He looked desperate, still wanting to explain, but I cut him short. “It’s not just about that. — Liam, I’m not happy with you.” He froze, a wounded look flashing in his anxious eyes, but he quickly composed himself. “Anna, let’s stick to the facts. There’s no need to be hurtful.” “Hurtful?” My eyes welled up, my nose stung, and my voice cracked uncontrollably. “Liam, do you even know what hurt means? Do you know that every single day I spent with you felt utterly pointless? Yes, pointless! Everything I did felt meaningless, my whole existence felt meaningless! That’s how you make me feel, Liam! You ruined everything for me, but I can’t even blame you, because from the very beginning, you rejected me so completely… It was my own damn fault.” Voicing my obsession and the darkness I’d carried, I suddenly felt like the villain in some cheap drama. Falling for someone who didn’t love me, insisting on being with them. Planning his crucial birthday party, only to sabotage his confession. That night, pretending to be blackout drunk, collapsing into his arms, monopolizing his entire evening. He never got the chance to escape me and tell Sarah how he felt before she left. When it comes down to it, I was the bad guy all along. It was all my own damn fault.

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My family went bankrupt. My dad jumped off a building and died. My mom took the money and ran off with her boy toy. And my weak, useless brother? He handed me over to the guy we owed money to, Liam Carter. A year later, one dark and stormy night, Liam slammed me against the wall, slapped me hard across the face, then wrapped his arm around the woman he truly loved and walked away. A moment later, I felt a sickening trickle down my leg. A pool of bright red blood spread beneath me… Megan was wearing the expensive designer gown that should have been mine. She stood in front of me, smugness practically dripping off her, mocking me. “Sarah, who are you trying to impress with that high-and-mighty act now?” I just sat there on the sofa, didn’t even bother looking up. That seemed to annoy her. She clicked across the floor in her sky-high heels, planting herself right in front of me, blocking my view. I had no choice but to look up at her then. Megan sniffed, her expression radiating superiority. “Sarah, you’re nothing but Liam’s plaything now. I, on the other hand, am his—” Before she could finish, I was on my feet. Crack. The sound echoed as I slapped her hard across the face. My eyes were cold, like ice daggers aimed right at her. “Megan,” I said, my voice chillingly calm, “my baby is gone. You think I give a damn about any of this anymore?” The sharp slap and my ice-cold words silenced the entire mansion. “Sarah, how dare you hit me?” Megan clutched her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief, looking like a feral cat about to scratch. “I hit you. So what? Did I need to make an appointment?” My voice was flat, emotionless. Not even a ripple disturbed the dead calm in my eyes. After Liam slapped me, after I lost the baby, nothing could really hurt me anymore. I used to love Liam. Back when my brother handed me over to him, a tiny part of me felt a flicker of relief. After all, I had saved Liam’s life once. As for now… hah. Liam Carter? Who the hell does he think he is? The household staff, who’d never seen this side of me, just stood there, stunned into silence. That’s when Liam walked in. Liam’s face, the one I used to admire, looked… ordinary now. Nothing special. His expression was filled with impatience, his eyes sharp as knives as he looked at me. “Tsk—Sarah, what are you causing trouble about now?” His words instantly fueled Megan’s simmering resentment. She clutched her cheek, big tears welling up, looking utterly pitiful. I’m not the type to feel sorry for damsels in distress. No one ever felt sorry for me. My gaze shifted to Liam, a flicker of something—maybe defiance?—in my eyes. Then, completely unexpectedly, I swung my hand and slapped him. He clearly didn’t see it coming. He lunged, grabbing a fistful of my hair and slapping me back, hard. I looked at him calmly, the flicker in my eyes gone. I raised my hand and shoved him away with all my strength. I stumbled back a few steps, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. Then, I started laughing. Laughing right at Liam and Megan. I laughed at Liam’s stupidity. The great Liam Carter, CEO of Carter Corp, played like a fool by a two-faced snake like Megan. He couldn’t even get his savior right. But I had revenge on my mind, so I wasn’t about to correct him. I stopped laughing, my voice flat again. “Liam, the debt my family owed you? I’ve earned it back for you, doubled. I don’t owe you anything.” I paused, then added, “Liam, you need to remember this: You owe me the life of my child!” My words seemed to hit a nerve. He grabbed my throat, squeezing until I could barely breathe. He looked down at me, contemptuously. “Sarah, who do you think you are? That thing in your belly was worthless.” I struggled with everything I had, prying his fingers off my neck. I staggered back a step. “Liam, our agreement is over. I owe you nothing. From now on, we go our separate ways.” “Sarah, get the hell out!” Liam pointed towards the mansion’s front door, utterly devoid of his usual composure. I stumbled out, not looking back once as I left the Carter residence behind me. 2: Reunion Two years later, JFK International Airport, New York City. I pulled open the door of the black Maybach and slid inside. Ethan Vance, in the driver’s seat, turned around with a smile. “Sarah, welcome back.” Then he added, “Carter Corp is the best potential partner for this project. The bid will probably go to them. Sarah, how are you feeling about that? Are you ready?” I stared out the window at the city skyline, familiar yet strangely distant. Ethan’s words didn’t stir anything in me. After a moment, I replied quietly, “Ethan, what are you worried about? I never mix business with personal matters. Besides, Liam Carter and I have nothing to do with each other anymore.” Ethan knew my past. Two years ago, when I was broken and scarred, Ethan had appeared and offered me a hand. I asked him why he wanted to help me. He stood under a tree, sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting a golden glow on him, like an angel. Ethan had smiled and said, “Sarah, you’re a Wall Street whiz. Helping you is a good investment.” My weak, useless brother had said something similar to Liam when he handed me over after the bankruptcy. He’d said: Mr. Carter, you know my sister. She’s a big shot on Wall Street. Taking her as payment isn’t a bad deal for you. And it wasn’t. In one year, I’d earned back double what my family owed Liam. After meeting Ethan, he helped me get away from NYC, far away. And I helped him make a fortune. In just two years, Vance Enterprises had become a major publicly listed company. Now, Vance Enterprises wasn’t satisfied with its current market share; it was pushing into the tech sector. I was back as the head of Vance’s new tech subsidiary, which meant attending countless meetings and events alongside Ethan. I saw Liam again three days after I returned, at a business gala Ethan hosted. I wore a gold, off-the-shoulder evening gown, my arm linked with Ethan’s. We stood in the center of the ballroom, fielding compliments and business chatter from NYC’s corporate elite. Liam arrived late, just as the party was winding down. As he approached, champagne glass in hand, my expression remained perfectly placid, like looking at still water. I kept my arm linked with Ethan’s and gave Liam a polite, elegant nod as he came over to toast Ethan. Then, I looked away, treating him like a complete stranger. My indifference seemed to anger Liam. He took a large stride forward. A faint, tight smile played on his lips. “Sarah,” he said. “Long time no see.” Beside me, Ethan stiffened slightly. He glanced at me, lowering his voice. “You know him?” I shook my head gently. “Never met him.” Liam, Ethan, and I had all grown up in the same circles in NYC. Plus, the fact that Ethan had helped me leave the country two years ago wasn’t exactly a secret among the city’s elite. Ethan’s question felt a little staged, but I didn’t dwell on it. Liam reached out, as if to grab my arm. Ethan moved faster. He stepped smoothly between us, shielding me and blocking any direct confrontation. He looked at Liam, his eyes holding a clear warning, his voice hardening noticeably. “Mr. Carter, please don’t bother Sarah.” Liam froze, clearly stunned that Ethan would be so blunt, so disrespectful. He swallowed his anger, turning his head slightly to look past Ethan at me. “Sarah,” he said, his voice tight, “two years away seems to have given you some nerve.” I didn’t want a scene at the gala. I just said coolly, “Mr. Carter, I’ve always been capable. Otherwise, Carter Corp wouldn’t be where it is today.” Liam looked like he wanted to say more, but Ethan cut him off. He put his arm around my waist, pulling me close into his side. He leaned down, whispering intimately near my ear, “Sarah, let me handle this.” I didn’t really care about Liam, but Ethan seemed to think I was trying to escape the situation. I couldn’t exactly explain, so I just smiled and thanked him quietly. Liam stood rooted to the spot, watching Ethan and me move through the ballroom, looking close. He jammed his clenched fists into his suit pockets. 3: Unwanted Entanglement I used to have friends in NYC. Now that I was back after two years, meeting up for coffee seemed inevitable. As I walked into the coffee shop, I suddenly remembered: the Carter Corp building was right nearby. I sat listlessly in a booth by the window, waiting for my friend. But before she arrived, Liam Carter pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down. I was genuinely surprised. Liam, always so meticulous about appearances and prestige, would never normally set foot in a place like this. What was he doing here today? But seeing him, my heart remained perfectly still. Liam, however, clearly wasn’t calm. His eyes held some emotion I couldn’t decipher, not that I cared to try. “Mr. Carter, quite the leisurely day for you,” I said, breaking the silence first. My next words dripped with sarcasm. “I doubt Mr. Carter is accustomed to this kind of coffee. After all, the life of an ordinary person like me clashes terribly with Mr. Carter’s exquisite luxury.” With one sentence, I drew a clear line between us. Liam bristled immediately, but for some reason, he held back his anger. Even more surprisingly, he spoke gently. “Sarah, let’s talk. Properly.” Talk? I couldn’t think of anything we needed to talk about. I stood up to leave. Liam quickly grabbed my hand. I flinched as if burned by boiling oil, wrenching my hand free. “Liam,” I hissed, “we’re in public. Please refrain from harassing me.” For the first time ever, Liam actually apologized. “Sarah, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you just now?” I froze for a second, completely thrown by his attitude. This wasn’t Liam’s style. He was arrogant, convinced of his own superiority; he’d never lower himself to apologize. “Mr. Carter, next time I might have to call the police.” I didn’t want to rehash the past; I just wanted him out of my life. My cold, distant demeanor, so unlike the woman who used to follow him around, seemed to unsettle him. Shock flickered in his eyes, but that was his problem, not mine. I took a step back, maintaining a polite distance. “Mr. Carter, I have plans. Please excuse me.” In NYC, the Carter family was one of the few powerful enough to rival Ethan’s. While Ethan wasn’t afraid of Liam, I didn’t want to cause trouble for him or Vance Enterprises. “Sarah, do we really need to be so formal? Don’t forget, we’re married.” Liam’s words stopped me in my tracks. My brow furrowed tightly. I’d forgotten. There was a deal Carter Corp needed years ago, with a Mrs. Windsor from England. She only did business with people in stable, happy marriages. To land the contract, Liam and I had gotten legally married and pretended to be a happy couple for a month. When I left two years ago, I’d completely forgotten about getting a divorce. I said coldly, “Married? That was just fake. Neither of us ever took it seriously. Besides, your wife should be Megan.” Liam took a step forward, sounding almost desperate. “My wife is you. It has nothing to do with Megan.” I actually laughed out loud. I couldn’t believe his audacity, putting on this act now. “Mr. Carter, there’s a renowned neurologist at Mount Sinai. If you need a referral, I can ask Mr. Vance to help you make an appointment.” I wasn’t going to get drawn into any more pointless arguments with him. I turned to leave again. Liam rushed ahead and blocked the coffee shop door. I stopped, unable to move forward, irritation written all over my face. I stared at him for three seconds, made a soft ‘tsk’ sound, and then said, “Liam, you look truly pathetic right now.” He still didn’t move. A barista walked over, and Liam, conscious of his image, had to step aside slightly. I seized the opportunity, pushed open the door, and stepped outside. “Sarah, I’m sorry about everything that happened,” he called out, jogging to catch up. Sorry… Those words meant nothing to me anymore. No amount of apologies could bring back my child or heal my shattered heart.

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One was my dad, the other my brother. Besides burning me with cigarettes, all they ever did was demand money from me. To pay off gambling debts, I was sold. I thought I was escaping hell, but I didn’t realize I’d fallen into an even bigger pit of fire. … My name is Sadie. I had a boyfriend I loved for three years. He’s dead. Died the night before I was forced into an arranged meeting. Jason Hayes took a liking to me. My dad, let’s call him Sonny “Got Bucks,” sold me to him for fifty thousand dollars. That’s right, not married off! Sold! I’ve been married to Jason Hayes for over three years now, and I’m still a virgin. Even on our wedding night, we slept in separate beds. He said I was dirty, wouldn’t touch me. I still don’t understand why he married me. I couldn’t hold onto my husband, couldn’t get pregnant. My wealthy mother-in-law, who already looked down on me, used it as an excuse to torment me relentlessly. She fired the cleaning crew. A three-story, four-thousand-square-foot mansion, and I had to be up at 5 AM every day to clean it spotless. The carpets had to be scrubbed bit by bit with a brush; the glass windows, the marble floors… every day, I had to clean until she was satisfied. If there was even a speck of dust, I’d face her vicious insults and beatings. Three meals a day, I had to cook a variety of dishes for her. If something wasn’t to her taste, it went straight into the trash, and I had to start over. Today, just like usual, I finished wiping the windows and mopping the floors. I was carrying a bucket of dirty water downstairs, planning to get clean water to scrub the carpets. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was sitting cross-legged in the living room doing yoga. Seeing me come down, she sneered, “Oh, finally decided to get up? Sleeping till this hour, you really think you’re the lady of the house? Married to my son for over a year and can’t even pop out an egg. You really just came here to enjoy the good life, didn’t you?” She couldn’t see the bucket of dirty water I was carrying; apparently, marrying into her family meant I was just here to freeload. Even though I’d heard these words for over a year, I still couldn’t get used to them. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The sharp, brief pain brought me back to reality. I muttered softly, “Having a baby takes two people. How am I supposed to do it alone?” Eleanor clearly didn’t expect her usually meek, obedient daughter-in-law to talk back. She got up from her yoga mat, walked over, and swung her hand. SMACK. It landed hard on my left cheek. Her sharp nails grazed my eyeball, leaving a red scratch that beaded with blood. Five red finger marks instantly appeared on my face. “Useless, cheap trash! Can’t even keep your own man interested, and now you dare talk back to me?” After hitting me, as if she’d touched something disgusting, she wiped her hand with a Hermes silk scarf and tossed it into the trash can before heading upstairs. I clutched my burning, swollen cheek. My eye throbbed, and tears streamed down uncontrollably. For a moment, I thought I was going blind. The maid brought over a bowl of freshly brewed herbal tonic, slamming it down on the table so hard that half of it spilled. “Such a good man, Mr. Hayes, how did he end up marrying a jinx like you? Giving you this expensive medicine is such a waste. Even a hen lays eggs better than you.” Less than a month after I married in, Eleanor had somehow gotten hold of some folk remedy for fertility. Every morning, she forced me to drink a bowl of this dark, bitter herbal sludge. In this mansion, no one respected me. I was like a dog—no, worse than a dog. I couldn’t fight back. Humiliated and numb, I picked up the bowl and drank every last drop. The maid looked even more contemptuous, spat on the floor, and strutted back to the kitchen to prepare lunch. A child. I need to have a child. I pulled myself up from the floor and dialed Jason’s number. A familiar female voice answered on the other end, “Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later…” I didn’t give up. I sent him a text message: “Can you come home tonight? Mom isn’t feeling well and wants to see you.” I lied. I knew deep down, given how much Jason despised me, he wouldn’t come back just for me. But he was a devoted son. He was illegitimate. His mother had struggled to raise him, ruthlessly outlasting the original wife to finally marry his father. Then Jason had somehow gotten rid of the first wife’s son and inherited the company. If his mother was in trouble, he would definitely come back. Even though the lie was flimsy and easily exposed, I didn’t care. As long as he came home. 2 That evening, I took a shower and put on a sexy lace slip dress. The fabric was sheer, hinting at the curves underneath, showcasing my figure perfectly. I couldn’t believe Jason wouldn’t be tempted, unless he wasn’t a real man! Oh, right! I didn’t put on any perfume. He hated perfume. Jason came home. He didn’t even glance at me, just walked right past me and went straight to Eleanor’s bedroom. I just stood there by the door, watching him. Eleanor opened her door, ready to scold someone, but saw her precious darling son instead. Her wrinkled face broke into a smile like a blooming chrysanthemum. Jason saw his mother bouncing around, perfectly healthy, not looking the least bit unwell. He knew I had tricked him. Jason suppressed his anger, chatted with his mother for a while, then made an excuse about work and prepared to leave. The moment her door closed, Jason grabbed my throat with one hand, squeezing hard. I clawed at his hand, struggling desperately. Only when the air grew thin and I couldn’t breathe did he finally let go. I collapsed onto the floor, gasping like a dog, gulping down huge breaths of fresh air. Jason grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Remember this lesson. If you ever dare to deceive me again, you better figure out how you want to die.” After saying that, as if he’d touched something disgusting, he wiped his hand with a tissue and threw it on the floor. Ha! Like mother, like son. Even their gestures of disgust were identical. I stood up and wrapped my arms around his waist, standing on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. Compared to not having a child, what was this threat? I wasn’t afraid! Jason forcefully pried my fingers off him and slapped my right cheek hard. My mouth filled with the taste of blood. I couldn’t hold it back and spat out a mouthful of blood, along with a tooth. Apparently still not satisfied, Jason kicked me square in the chest. I tumbled down the stairs, my forehead hitting a pillar. Blood started streaming down. I curled into a ball, consumed by pain, breaking out in a cold sweat. “If you won’t touch me, why did you even marry me?” Jason looked like he’d heard the biggest joke ever. “Marry you? I bought you for fifty thousand dollars! Look at how you’re dressed. Even the hookers downtown look classier than you.” Maybe my appearance was too frightening, or maybe Jason had a shred of conscience. “Just behave yourself, and I’ll make sure you have food and shelter. If you dare to dream about things you don’t deserve again, don’t blame me for making your life a living hell.” I grabbed the pillar and shakily stood up. “Ha! Isn’t everything I’m suffering through your fault?” Jason spat out a curse, “Delusional,” and left the mansion. 3 I was halfway through crudely bandaging my head wound with gauze when everything went black, and I passed out. I thought I might die, but damn it, I have strong luck. I was still alive and kicking. I went to my dad’s place and rang the doorbell. Dad opened the door. Seeing me, his face fell. “You show up empty-handed? Got some nerve. I lost over ten grand gambling recently, and your brother needs cash for his business idea. Don’t need much, just give us fifty grand.” They couldn’t see the freshly bandaged wound on my forehead. All they could talk about was fifty thousand dollars. Really, my wonderful father and brother. I cried out, my voice raw with anguish, “Dad, I want to divorce Jason! He hits me! I can’t live like this anymore! I’m going to die!” But Dad only loved himself, and after that, money and his son. A daughter, in his eyes, was just a tool for making money. Dad took the smoldering cigarette butt from his lips and pressed it against my back. “You worthless girl! I raised you all these years, even found you such a rich family. If you dare divorce him, I’ll kill you, you worthless brat!” My dear brother Rick chimed in, fanning the flames, “Jason’s so rich! If you divorce him, who are we gonna get money from? Why are you being so selfish?” Selfish? I almost laughed out loud from the absurdity. Ever since I was little, just because I was a girl, they bullied me in every way possible and demanded money. Burned me with cigarettes when drunk, burned me when they lost at gambling, burned me when my brother cried, burned me when they were just in a bad mood. On top of that, I earned the money for their drinking, I earned the money for my brother’s schooling, and this time, selling me was to pay off gambling debts… Suddenly, I didn’t want to endure it anymore. I snatched the cigarette butt from Dad’s hand and burned his hand with it. Seeing the blister form, a surge of vengeful satisfaction washed over me. Watching him howl in pain, I threw the butt on the floor, stomped it out, and ground it under my heel for good measure. Dad broke free from my unexpected attack and cursed me viciously, “Why don’t you just die? Go die! When you were born, I should have strangled you or thrown you in the river to drown!” Then, he snatched my purse, opened it, and rummaged through everything. Not a single dollar inside. Dad threw the purse back in my face. “Call Jason right now and tell him to bring fifty grand over! Your brother and I need the money.” “I don’t have any money, and Jason won’t give me any.” Rick got even angrier. “You gotta pay even to sleep with a whore! Why the hell shouldn’t Jason give you money? Do you just let him screw you for free every time? So damn useless, why don’t you just die?” I missed my ex-boyfriend. He taught me what love was. But he was gone. The only person in the world who ever loved me was dead. Maybe I should go join him. Only by dying could I escape my father and brother, could I stop suffering the torture and humiliation from Jason and his mother.

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“Josie! Mr. Cross is drunk again. Do you think you could come pick him up?” Three in the morning. Another call from Ethan Cross’s driver. “Aaaaargh! He can just drop dead!” I couldn’t take it anymore. This was already the fifth time this month! “Honey, kisses~ Come get me and take me home.” The words had barely left my mouth when I heard that infuriating voice belonging to Ethan on the other end. Ethan and I grew up together, practically childhood rivals. We were even born on the same day. But we never got along. Put us in the same room for more than ten minutes, and a fight was guaranteed. And yet, despite all that… The day we graduated college. Both sets of our parents were supposedly in a terrible car accident, clinging to life. Their last wish? To see us married. What could we do? For their supposed dying wish, sniffling and crying, Ethan and I went down to City Hall and got the license. Only after we got back did we find out. What car accident? What critical condition? It was all fake! Just like that. We were inexplicably living the married life. It’s been three months now. But we’ve always slept in separate rooms. No other reason than this: I knew perfectly well. Ethan had a girl he loved but couldn’t have. The girl he murmured “Sweetheart” to in his sleep. I have zero interest in being the other woman. So, I always kept things within safe boundaries. But it wasn’t until this month that I discovered something. Ethan had a weird habit I’d never noticed! As soon as he gets drunk. He’s like a completely different person. Normally, he’s got this permanent scowl, all arrogant and untamable. After drinking, he turns into this clingy baby who just whines “Honey” at his wife! Everyone thinks he spoils me rotten. In reality… We’re lucky if we don’t end up punching each other. 2 I drove my sports car to the private room the driver mentioned. Pushing the door open. A thick wave of alcohol mixed with cigarette smoke hit me, and I instinctively wrinkled my nose. I scanned the room. I knew most of the people inside. His college buddies. Before I could even say anything. Ethan, all six-foot-something of him, practically tackled me in a bear hug. He buried his head in my neck, nuzzling against me. The faint scent of booze mixed with a pine fragrance wasn’t actually unpleasant on him. “Honey, you’re finally here.” His warm breath tickled my ear as he spoke. My knees went weak, and I almost stumbled. But to outsiders, this scene? It just cemented the illusion of our loving marriage. A sudden chill ran down my spine. Even though this had happened many times before. I still couldn’t get used to Ethan’s sudden intimacy. I reached out and pinched his side, hard. “Ah…” My back stiffened. I glanced nervously over my shoulder at the man leaning on me. That sound… Did that just come from Ethan? “Alright, alright, break it up! Take your flirting home, you two!” Someone shouted from the crowd. My face flushed crimson from my neck to my earlobes. I immediately dragged this total spectacle, Ethan, out to the car. The driver put up the partition. Ethan, apparently clueless about self-preservation, leaned in again. His handsome eyes seemed clouded with a mist, looking wet and vulnerable. “Honey, you’re so beautiful.” “…” “Honey, why aren’t you talking?” “…” “Honey, you…” “Ethan, say one more word and I’m throwing you out of this car!” 3 The next morning, my alarm woke me. I rolled over. Only to feel a wave of warmth coming from beside me. I opened my eyes. Ethan was lying next to me, completely naked! Probably because of the alarm, his handsome brow was furrowed into a line. I subconsciously slowed my breathing. I had to admit. It was a total waste that Ethan didn’t become a movie star with that face. “Like what you see, Josie?” Caught red-handed. My heart skipped a beat. “Ethan, either get out of my bed yourself, or I’m kicking you out.” Ethan seemed used to this. He propped his head up with one hand, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Josie, don’t be so heartless…” Before he could finish. I’d already kicked him squarely in the stomach. I’ve been taking kickboxing since I was a kid. That kick was definitely enough to make him feel it. I slowly got up. “Ethan, next time you get drunk and I have to clean up your mess, we’re meeting at the courthouse.” Last night. I’d scrolled past Ava Miller’s social media feed. She had ‘accidentally’ liked a post from a gossip blog detailing evidence of her and Ethan’s supposed romance. Ava is the hot new actress signed under Ethan’s company. Rumors about their special relationship have been flying around externally. I always knew Ethan kept a strict distance when it came to relationships with women. This was the only time. He let a woman use his name for publicity. So, I often wondered. The “Sweetheart” Ethan muttered about… it must be her, right? If that’s the case, then I’m definitely getting out of here. I saw Ethan quickly stand up. His eyes were sharp and clear. He sneered, “In your dreams, Josie.” “…” 4 The Cross and Keller families have been friends for generations, going back to our great-grandfathers. Both families started in real estate. But in recent decades, the Cross family branched out into the entertainment industry. S.T., the entertainment company under the Cross umbrella, has launched countless stars. You could say just stepping into S.T. already made you halfway famous. But me? I deliberately went against him. I majored in Broadcasting and Hosting. Logically, after graduation, I should have smoothly transitioned into S.T. But right at that moment. Ethan, with his big mouth, had to say: “The thought of you working under me someday makes me feel good.” I instantly turned around and found his biggest rival, Apex Media. Apex’s boss, Daniel Chen, was a senior when I was in college. We met during a club activity. We hit it off later and became pretty good friends, able to talk about anything. Plus, Apex launched that “campus heartthrob” actor, Jake Ryan, last year. So, they’re also a hot commodity in the industry. The moment I got to the office. Daniel was there, looking like he’d been specifically waiting for me in my office. “Ethan had another meltdown yesterday?” I paused. “How did you even know?” “Are there any secrets in this industry that last till the next day?” I just smiled without saying anything. Daniel suddenly put his arm around my shoulder. “Look, you don’t like Ethan anyway. Why not just divorce him already and be with me?” I pushed him away. “No way. If I get divorced, half my assets get split. Anyone touches my money, I fight them.” I meant it as a joke. But Daniel seemed to take it seriously. He leaned closer to my ear, pointing at a trending topic on his phone. “Find proof he’s cheating, and you can kick him out with nothing.” Before I could respond. The door opened. It was my assistant, Sarah. “Josie… they’re rushing us over there. Maybe we should head out?” I sighed. Because the person I was interviewing this time… Was none other than Ava Miller! 5 The interview was a live stream. By the time I got there after hair and makeup, Ava was already surrounded by a crowd. We were actually college classmates, but we never got along. But she was also one of the few people who knew Ethan and I were married. “Miss Miller, regarding the trending topic about your accidental ‘like,’ is there anything you’d like to clarify for everyone?” The director across from me was frantically signaling me. Because the script clearly said: [What is your relationship with Ethan Cross?] Asking me, the actual wife, about his rumored girlfriend’s relationship status? Dream on! Whatever else Ethan was, he was technically my husband. Even if he was cheating on me, there was no way I was going to put the metaphorical green hat on my own head. I watched as Ava very seductively brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. Then, she covered her lips coyly. “Eth… oh, no. Mr. Cross and I just have a boss-employee relationship. Perfectly professional, so of course, there’s nothing to clarify!” Damn it, my fists were clenching! “You’re right, Mr. Cross does have good taste. Naturally, he wouldn’t…” Before I finished. I copied her gesture, covering my own lips. Four years of college had taught me all about Ava’s fake-sweet routine. I specifically asked the makeup team for a natural, “no-makeup” makeup look. Right now, I was probably radiating even more faux sweetness than Ava. I could feel the collective gasp in the air. I immediately moved to the next question. “After hitting it big with ‘Crown of Shadows,’ how has your mindset changed?” “Oh, not much has really changed. People who like me know, I’ve always taken fame and criticism in stride.” “…” If this wasn’t live. I might have actually rolled my eyes at Ava. I vividly remembered junior year when she lost a role. She smashed six cups in our dorm room. Ava wanted to keep talking, but I cut her off directly. “Okay, let’s move to the next segment. Please call the first contact in your recent calls list and tell them ‘I miss you.’” I took her phone from Ava’s assistant. I never expected it. The first name on the list was Ethan! Looking at the call time, it was just three hours ago! I did a quick calculation. Wasn’t that right after I left the house this morning?! I let out a cold laugh. Didn’t expect Ethan to be such a time management expert. One second he’s getting out of his wife’s bed. The next, he’s calling his idealized love interest? Distracted, I accidentally dialed the number. The studio instantly fell silent. “What’s up?” Ethan’s distinctively cool voice came through the speaker. Yeah, right. Keep pretending. If I didn’t know what a mess Ethan was when drunk. I might have actually been fooled. “Ethan, what are you doing?” Ava cooed. “Looking over contracts.” “Are you free for lunch? I wanted to treat you.” I scoffed internally. But my body traitorously leaned closer. Wanting to hear Ethan’s reply. “I…” “Watch out!” Ava and I simultaneously looked towards the source of the shout. A hanging light fixture directly above was suddenly swaying precariously. The next second, Ava grabbed my arm. She reacted almost instantly, pulling me out of the danger zone. We both fell heavily to the ground. I never imagined the person saving me would be Ava! “Josie, are you okay?!” I saw Daniel sprinting towards me. I wanted to say something. But everything in front of me started to blur. Then, I just blacked out.

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My livestream got yanked. Again. And again. And again. My agent, Brenda, let out a long sigh over the phone. She told me not to worry about the stream for now, said she’d booked me a spot on a reality show. Oh, and Jessica Miller was going to be on it too. Brenda reminded me our statuses were worlds apart now and basically told me not to cause any trouble for her. Jessica Miller? You mean my dear “best friend” who stole my senior thesis project, flipped the script to frame me for plagiarism, and single-handedly nuked my acting career? Heh. How exactly should I act to make this long-overdue reunion truly memorable? 2 “Rural Roots” was the country’s first big “slow-living” reality show. The main goal was to showcase country life and boost the local economy. The meeting spot was the entrance to Harmony Creek village. I was the last one to arrive. As I got closer, I heard Jessica’s sickeningly sweet voice drifting over. “Please don’t be upset, sir,” she was cooing to someone. “Maya probably lives far away; I’m sure she didn’t mean to keep us all waiting.” There it was. That familiar tone. God, brings back memories. Before the other person could even respond, I beat her to the punch. “The call time set by the production team was 8:50 AM. It’s currently 8:25 AM. I arrived at the designated meeting point within the specified time. What exactly did I do wrong?” I paused, then added, “And ‘Maya’? Ms. Miller, are we pretending we’re close now?” Jessica choked on her words. She was so used to the usual Hollywood dance of fake niceties and backstabbing, she clearly didn’t expect me to just call her out directly. But, true to form, the professional two-face switched tactics instantly. She sidled up to me, eyes glistening like she was about to cry. “Maya, are you still mad at me? I… I just cared so much about my work back then, I couldn’t control myself, I just had to tell the truth…” She even tried to grab my hand, but I snatched it away. Beside her, some other male guest, Kevin something, shot me a dirty look. “Jessica, don’t blame yourself. It’s not like she has any right to be mad after plagiarizing.” Jessica kept up her act, pretending to “defend” me. I was about to let him have it when I saw my assistant behind the camera making a frantic throat-slitting gesture at me. Right. Keep it together for the cameras. Just then, a cool voice cut in. “When do we start filming in the village?” Someone nearby immediately scrambled. “Right away, right away.” A guy got out of a black SUV. Even with a baseball cap pulled low, you could tell he was seriously good-looking. He gave a curt nod to the group, a general greeting, and then just headed straight into the village. The camera operator assigned to him hurried to follow. I remembered my assistant briefing me last night – there was supposed to be a newly famous, award-winning actor on this shoot who wasn’t exactly Mr. Congeniality. Ethan Shi. That must’ve been him. 3 The first segment of the show was called “Honest Work.” Everyone had seen the production notes, but when we got to the actual location, we all just stood there, stunned. Before us stretched what looked like an ocean of green, endless fields of cornstalks reaching as far as the eye could see. Nothing but corn. Someone let out a groan. “Don’t tell me we have to harvest all this.” Instant drama for the cameras, perfect. While everyone else was taking in the “scenic view,” I turned to Jessica, lowered my voice, and smirked. “Dare you?” Jessica glared back at me. “Who’s afraid of who!” Before she could even process it, I grabbed her arm and dragged her right in front of the main camera. “Ms. Miller just challenged me to a corn-husking contest!” I announced brightly. “We need you all to be witnesses! We agreed that whoever loses has to wear pig ears and a nose for everyone to see. So please, keep us honest, folks!” Jessica finally realized she’d been played. The smile on her face nearly cracked, but she managed to keep her voice soft. “Maya, stop messing around.” She tried to pull her arm away, putting some force into it. Nice try. Like I’d let you break free after all those years of Taekwondo practice. The production team, loving the potential for drama and content, was more than happy to let us have our little competition. They even marked off two separate sections just for us. Normally, on these kinds of shows, the guests don’t have to do much real labor once the crew gets enough footage. Now, suddenly forced into this contest, Jessica didn’t show anything on camera, but behind the scenes, she shot me a few venomous looks. Pfft. Like looks could actually hurt me. The competition started mid-afternoon. We were decked out in full sun gear, heading into the cornfield under the blazing sun. Jessica quickly fell behind. Before long, I heard a cry from behind me. I turned just in time to witness Jessica’s dramatic collapse, like a delicate flower wilting to the ground. Everyone rushed over, and she was quickly whisked away to a local clinic or hospital. Suddenly, the filming location was almost empty, just a few scattered crew members left. I glanced towards the far end of the field. The A-list actor, Ethan, was either deaf or just completely unfazed. He was still husking corn, working away like a diligent old workhorse. The assistant director eventually said they had enough footage. I dusted myself off, waiting for the slightly-delayed movie star. We both ended up climbing onto an old farm truck. The thing clattered and banged down the dirt road for maybe fifty yards before sputtering to a stop. Out of gas. Of course. Resigned, Ethan and I hopped off the truck and started walking back towards the village, him slightly ahead, me trailing behind. I had no intention of striking up a conversation. But then he spoke first. “I really liked the princess.” “What?” I asked, confused. He paused for a few seconds. “The little princess from the fallen kingdom.” I froze. He was talking about the very first movie I ever did. I still remember the headlines after that film came out. “The most soulful young actress of the century.” “A natural talent blessed by the gods.” … But all of that vanished after the plagiarism scandal, like a drop of water falling into the ocean, gone without a trace. I leaned in closer to him, whispering, “You’re a huge star, Mr. Shi. We don’t really need to do the whole fake ‘mutual admiration’ thing, do we?” My sudden closeness must have startled him; he stumbled back. Instinctively, I grabbed his arm to steady him, but somehow, my momentum carried us both sideways, and we ended up stumbling right into a muddy patch beside the road. Seriously??? On the walk back, neither of us bothered bringing up our earlier topic. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn I detected a flicker of something like disappointment in Ethan’s expression. What did he have to be disappointed about? When we finally trudged back into the village, covered in mud, there was Jessica. Dressed in some kind of flowy, vaguely traditional-looking dress, sitting serenely in a little gazebo in the middle of the courtyard, sipping tea. Looking for all the world like a picture of perfect tranquility. Drinking tea, the little snake. Tsk tsk. “Ethan, did you fall?” Jessica gasped, immediately grabbing a towel from nearby and rushing over, intending to wipe the mud off him. Ethan sidestepped her smoothly. “No need. Give the towel to Maya.” And with that, he went straight into the house assigned to him. Jessica’s hand, holding the towel, hung awkwardly in mid-air for a few seconds before she remembered the cameras. She turned towards me, forcing a smile that was pure venom underneath. “You wouldn’t actually try to give me your towel, would you?” I muttered, keeping my voice low. Jessica leaned in close, her smile fixed, but her voice was ice. “A Z-list streamer who belongs to doing thirst traps online, now trying to climb the ladder on a reality show? Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking you can hook up with Ethan Shi and get back into acting? Let me warn you, Maya. Stay away from him! I ruined your reputation once, and I can make sure you rot in the gutter for good!” She finished her threat, then swept away, proud as a peacock. And there I stood, covered in mud, feeling like I was right back in that period after the thesis disaster. She had secretly deleted all the files related to my project from my computer, changing the dates. During rehearsals, she’d said she wanted to ‘surprise’ me. Then, the day before the final presentation, she claimed she was too nervous and asked if we could switch places, letting her go first. I agreed to everything. So, when the curtain rose on her performance, there were audible gasps from the audience. And Jessica, wearing an identical costume to mine, sat in the audience, wearing the exact same expression she had just now. Smug. Self-satisfied. Gloating. The department head was furious. My agency demanded to know why I was so stupid – plagiarism was one thing, but a direct copy-paste? Once the reporters published their stories, my career was effectively over. Nobody believed me. … If I wanted to actually hurt her, really do some damage, I couldn’t keep playing these harmless little pranks. I lifted my head and glanced towards the second floor of the main house. That was— Ethan Shi’s room. Stay away from him, she said? Heh. 4 I have trouble sleeping in strange beds. I woke up before dawn. Two nights in a row with bad sleep left me feeling completely drained and out of it. I peeked out the window. Nobody around. I snuck into the kitchen, found a small bag of oats, lit the wood stove, and filled a pot with water. Soon, the comforting smell of cooking oatmeal started to fill the air. I sat on the stool in front of the stove, letting out a satisfied yawn. A little while later, Ethan floated out like a ghost, sporting impressive bedhead and holding a bowl. “Mind if I grab some?” His look was a far cry from the cool, aloof movie star of yesterday. I smiled. “Of course.” We sat in silence for a bit. Just the sound of the oatmeal bubbling away. Ostensibly, I was watching the pot, but my peripheral vision was locked on the doorway. Right on cue, Jessica emerged, walking with that practiced gentle grace. When she saw Ethan and me sitting together by the stove, her composure almost slipped. “Oh, that smells wonderful!” she chirped, sliding smoothly into the space between us like she belonged there. “Can I have some too?” “No.” The blunt refusal came from Ethan. Jessica faltered, visibly surprised, and glanced at him. Ethan didn’t even look at her. After his one-word reply, his gaze was fixed intently on the oatmeal. Nicely done! Maybe this was what they meant by karma? Serves her right. 5 The first filming block ended at noon today. During the lull after breakfast, when everyone was just hanging around, I casually brought up the matter of the pig face punishment. Every pore on Jessica’s body screamed resistance. Her entire brand was built on being pure and beautiful. If footage of her looking ridiculous like that got out, who knew how many fans she’d lose. “But I fainted yesterday,” she protested weakly. “That doesn’t really count, does it?” “Fine by me,” I shrugged. “We can just go by the scores before you conveniently passed out. Doesn’t matter to me.” Kevin, the guy who’d defended her earlier, glared at me. “Maya, don’t push it.” I glared right back. “A bet’s a bet. You accept the challenge, you face the consequences. Simple as that.” Seeing that neither side was backing down, the production team, having gotten plenty of dramatic footage, decided to stir the pot further. “Alright, since there’s a disagreement, let’s settle this with an anonymous vote. We’ll see what everyone thinks.” Jessica gritted her teeth, clearly furious. She cast a pleading, doe-eyed look around at the male guests and crew members, the implication obvious. The final result showed that all her batting her eyes had been for nothing. 6 Everyone except Jessica voted for the pig face punishment. Kevin, the guy who’d just confronted me, had the grace to look embarrassed, scratching his head. “Uh, I thought about it… might be a funny contrast, you know?” Yeah, right. Funny contrast my ass. Jessica shot him daggers before storming off to the makeup trailer. She emerged nearly an hour and a half later. The moment she appeared, everyone burst out laughing. There she was, still in her flowy dress, her eye makeup impeccable, but sporting a huge prosthetic pig nose and floppy pig ears. Her cheeks were also padded out, making her face look round and puffy. You could still tell it was Jessica Miller. But simultaneously, she looked absolutely ridiculous. I guessed this final look was the result of some negotiation between Jessica and the makeup artist. She probably never dreamed the outcome would be this bad. … Once the segment wrapped, people started packing up and leaving in their assigned vehicles. My assistant had called last night; he got temporarily reassigned and would be late picking me up. Jessica was just about to get into her car when she saw me standing alone. Leaning against the open door, she said sweetly, “Maya, don’t you have an assistant? Need a ride back to the city? It’s really hard to get a cab out here.” Her eyes, however, were filled with pure, unadulterated glee at my apparent predicament. “She’s with me.” Ethan appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed my suitcase from the courtyard, tossed it into the back of his SUV, and turned to me. “What are you waiting for? Didn’t you say you had something urgent back home?” I practically skipped over to Ethan’s SUV, leaned against the open passenger door, and beamed at Jessica. “Sorry, Ms. Miller, looks like I already have plans!” I deliberately made it sound suggestive and intriguing, then slammed the door shut. I immediately peeked back through the tinted window, watching Jessica’s reaction. Seeing her face twist with rage was deeply satisfying. I finally settled back into my seat. Only then did I remember the person sitting next to me. Ethan had clearly witnessed the entire exchange but didn’t call me out on my little performance. The car was already moving. He leaned back against the seat, holding a book with only a few pages left. The spine showed two words in elegant script: The Painted Veil He was sitting slightly turned, sunlight streaming through the window, catching the lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. God, he had one of those unfairly handsome faces. “You like Maugham too?” I asked. Ethan nodded. He looked at me then, his gaze steady. “The line, ‘I knew you were second-rate, but I loved you.’ That one stuck with me.” It was only then I noticed that Ethan’s eyes were actually amber-colored. They had a strange, captivating quality. For a fleeting moment, I had the bizarre feeling that I was the ‘second-rate’ person he was talking about, and the ‘you’ in ‘I loved you’ was also me. Thankfully, he quickly looked back down at his book, missing the weird look that must have crossed my face. “Have you ever been in love?” he asked, not looking up. Uh. “I guess you could say that…” “‘Guess’?” I gave an awkward laugh. “Well, I’m not totally sure if it counts as ‘love.’ My deskmate back in middle school, this really sweet, kind of chubby kid. He used to bring me snacks every single day, all sorts of things. And each snack always had a little handwritten note with it – sometimes encouragement, sometimes math formulas. I’d never met a boy so genuinely kind. But then he transferred schools really suddenly… Anyway, first crushes, right? They usually fizzle out. It’s normal.” Just as I was talking, Ethan’s phone rang. He murmured an apology and answered it. Sounded like he was discussing AI voice simulation technology and audio conversion? Very technical terms I didn’t quite follow. Conveniently, my apartment building was just up ahead. I asked the driver to pull over. After thanking Ethan, I quickly got out and headed inside. …

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After college graduation, my dad wanted me to take over his company. Problem was, I had zero real-world experience and was terrified I’d run it into the ground. I talked it over with Dad, and we came up with a plan: I’d go undercover. Apply for an entry-level job at his company like any normal person, learn the ropes for six months, get some experience, and really see what makes the place tick from the inside. So, I dragged my boyfriend, Luke Fisher, who also majored in business management, along with me to apply. Let’s be real, people can be super materialistic these days. Guys often chase girls based on their family connections, specifically targeting rich girls. I was worried Luke might be one of those guys – only interested in what I had, not who I was. When Luke first asked me out freshman year, I spun a little white lie. Told him my parents were just regular folks, nothing fancy. Since turning eighteen, I’d been financially independent anyway, never asking Mom and Dad for a dime. I paid my own way through college working holidays and summers – tutoring, waiting tables at Starbucks, you name it. Whatever I could do to earn it myself.

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Thunder rattled the windows, and the instant lightning flashed, it froze Ethan’s sharp, almost boyish face in the harsh light. That’s when it hit me again – despite his usual tough-guy act, he was actually six or seven years younger than me. “You’re spacing out,” Ethan murmured, grabbing my shoulders. He buried his face in my neck, nuzzling me like a big puppy, then whispered huskily, “Wife.” I started to tell him not to call me that, but he didn’t give me a chance. Cupping the back of my neck, his lips found mine. He held me tight, almost desperately, pinning my wrists until they ached. A small, blurry moan escaped my throat against my will. It didn’t even sound like me… it was embarrassingly breathy. Ethan felt like a furnace against my skin. Tangled up with him, his heavy breathing ghosted across my ear. The heat made me dizzy, my mind hazy as I let him nuzzle against my chest again, still like that eager puppy. His lean, strong arms snaked under me, lifting my hips off the bed only to press me down again, harder this time. “Could you maybe… ease up a bit?” I turned my head, dodging another sticky kiss. “It hurts…” “No pain, no pain, my bad…” Ethan whispered, his fingertips gently kneading my earlobe as if to soothe me. The pressure lessened slightly. “Bite me if you need to blow off steam.” He’d roughed me up, and my whole body throbbed. Another flash of lightning lit the room. Through half-closed eyes, I saw them again – the intimidating ink covering his arms. The warmth that had started building in my chest suddenly flickered out, leaving me cold. “Let’s get a divorce,” I whispered, still fragile in his arms. A loud clap of thunder followed immediately. Ethan instinctively covered my ears. When the noise faded, he pulled me even closer, his voice rough. “No way.” Hearing him refuse didn’t stir much inside me. Maybe I was too tired, or maybe just a little scared of the man beside me. I didn’t argue. Right now, whether we divorced or not didn’t seem to matter much anymore. “I’m broke,” I said after a moment, gathering my thoughts. “How much?” “Fifty thousand, maybe.” Ethan went quiet for a second, then suddenly rolled off the bed, reaching for something on the floor. He was getting his phone from his pants pocket. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. Was I pushing it too far? It had been almost six months since we got married, and we’d only slept together twice. Both times, I’d asked him for money right after. “Grace,” he said, turning back to me, phone in hand. “I just changed the direct deposit settings for the rent collections. It all goes straight to your account now. You’ll start seeing it hit tomorrow.” I was still processing, just managing a dull “Huh?” “Oh, right, I got you that new SUV today. It’s in the garage,” Ethan added, pulling the comforter higher, making sure my exposed shoulder was covered. “Meant to tell you earlier, but you were just… really enthusiastic tonight—” “Will the rent… cover the fifty thousand?” I cut him off, forcing myself not to get distracted by the sweet talk and expensive gifts. “Probably closer to… a hundred thousand, I think. It’s not a huge amount. If you need more, just ask.” “…Aren’t you going to ask what I need all that money for?” “Why would I? It’s your money, do whatever you want with it. Honestly, it makes me feel better knowing you’ll ask me if you need something.” Ethan was such an idiot. He had no idea that as soon as that rent money hit my account, I was wiring every single cent to Mark – my ex-boyfriend. 2 I married Ethan for the money. It wasn’t exactly a secret. Our families went way back. My dad and Ethan’s dad grew up together in the same old company housing neighborhood. Later, Ethan’s dad got laid off, moved down south, struck gold, and came back to invest heavily in real estate. Suddenly, Ethan’s family were the new money in town. Meanwhile, I was still living with my parents in the old neighborhood, going to school, then getting a regular job. When I was in college, Ethan was just a little kid. Even back then, though, you could tell he was trouble – rebellious, never listened. He barely scraped by in school, always getting into fights. Desperate for extra cash, I’d stupidly agreed to tutor him for a while. That ended with him following me around, calling me “wife.” “Our parents always joked we’d end up together,” he’d declared. “I’m gonna marry you someday.” Can you picture it? Ethan, barely tall enough to see over a counter, like a little sprout, standing there telling me he was going to marry me when he grew up. It felt like a joke. I never thought the punchline would actually land. My dad got sick. Stomach cancer. His and Mom’s life savings wouldn’t even cover the initial treatments. The Li family – Ethan’s family – stepped in with a huge amount of money for the medical bills. They even helped my mom set up a small shop. Honestly, Ethan’s parents never explicitly said I had to marry him. But it was obvious, wasn’t it? Ethan’s dad came to talk to us. Said we didn’t need to worry about paying the money back. Mentioned how much his son liked me. “That old promise our dads made back in the day… maybe it’s time we made good on it, huh?” Once he said that, Ethan and I were practically tied together. Who would’ve thought that me, a modern woman, would end up gritting her teeth and accepting an arranged marriage? And to a kid, basically. Ethan just turned twenty-two. Bleach-blond hair, arms covered in tattoos – he looked exactly like every wannabe tough guy trying too hard. He spent his days collecting rent with a crew of guys who looked just like him. People took one look and crossed the street. There was no way I could ever fall for someone like him. It wasn’t just dislike; I was actually a little afraid of him. When we first got married, I always felt like he was angry, like some kind of gangster. Especially the way he always had a couple of his guys trailing him, sometimes carrying… well, let’s just say they weren’t carrying briefcases. Who wouldn’t be intimidated? After spending more time together, I realized he hadn’t changed much from when he was a kid. Still liked following me around, calling me “wife” or sometimes “sis” in that teasing way. He always put on a stony face for his crew, but with me, he was surprisingly gentle. Even so, I was still wary. Worried that one day he’d snap, fly into a rage, and just… strangle me. Because I had a guilty conscience. 3 After marrying Ethan, I hadn’t completely cut ties with my ex, Mark. Truthfully, our relationship had been falling apart anyway. Even without Ethan showing up, we probably would have broken up eventually. But somehow, Ethan’s presence made it impossible for us to make a clean break. When I tried to end things, Mark wouldn’t let go. Seeing him holding my hand, begging me to stay, I just couldn’t harden my heart completely. After that, we’d chat occasionally, keeping a careful distance. Even though we never crossed any major lines, I was constantly on edge, terrified Ethan would find out. During that time, I lent Mark money a few times. He never paid it back. Then, about two weeks ago, I discovered he actually had a fiancée. The only reason he kept contacting me was for money. For Ethan’s money. When I found out, I felt completely empty, cold. And furious. I hated Mark for destroying the few good memories I had left, for making me live with this constant guilt and anxiety for so long. Once Mark realized he couldn’t win me back, his true colors finally showed. He threatened me. Threatened to use intimate photos he’d taken of me when we were still together, photos I hadn’t even fully known he took. He said if I didn’t give him money, he’d send them to Ethan, my family, my friends. “Grace,” he’d snarled over the phone, “does your husband know you kept talking to me after you got married? If you don’t pay up, I’ll have a nice little chat with him. Let him know exactly what kind of woman he married! What do you think he’ll do then? Break your arm? Your leg?” Mark’s threats worked. No man would stay calm seeing photos like that of his wife. I was scared of Ethan – scared of him knowing I’d emotionally cheated, scared of him knowing about my past and the stupid things I’d done. So, I kept asking Ethan for money to pay Mark off, just to keep him quiet. Because of this, I couldn’t sleep. It felt like there was a ticking time bomb next to me in bed. I knew it would explode eventually. Maybe Ethan would actually kill me. I imagined countless terrible scenarios. But I never, ever imagined that Ethan would be the one to pull me out of this nightmare. He wasn’t going to hurt me at all. He was the one who saved me. 4 Ethan came home early that day, his usual crew trailing behind him. I was used to it, just feeling drained as I turned to head upstairs. “Grace, wait a sec.” Hearing Ethan call my name made my stomach drop. It was like a sixth sense. I knew something was about to happen, something involving Mark. “You guys head out. Mikey, wait for my call later.” After sending his guys away, Ethan just stood there at the bottom of the stairs, watching me. I felt his intense gaze on my back. Slowly, I turned around. And saw that Ethan wasn’t alone. Of course. It was Mark. He was lying on the rug, tied up securely, his mouth covered with duct tape. He couldn’t make a sound. The sight made my legs turn to jelly. I grabbed the banister, barely able to stand. Was this it? Was Ethan finally going to make me pay? My head was buzzing. I don’t even know how I made it down the stairs. On the last step, I stumbled, about to fall, but Ethan caught me firmly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm. He ripped the tape off Mark’s mouth, then gave him a vicious kick. “You wanna die?” I felt like Ethan’s words weren’t just for Mark. They were for me too. A warning, right? Making an example out of Mark? “…Why are you shaking?” Ethan tilted my chin up, gently wiping the sweat from my forehead with his thumb. “You look more scared than this asshole.” I watched as Ethan pulled a small black USB drive from his pocket. He held it up to Mark. “Are all the pictures on this? You didn’t keep any backups, did you?” Mark nodded frantically. “They’re all there! No backups, I swear, no backups…” The next second, Ethan raised his arm – the one covered in that ferocious tiger tattoo – and swung it towards me. So, this was it. No escaping the punishment. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself. But the expected pain never came. I cracked an eyelid open, peering towards Ethan. He hadn’t hit me. Instead, he’d smashed… the USB drive onto the floor. Staring at the shattered plastic pieces scattered on the rug, Ethan still didn’t look satisfied. He lifted his foot and stomped hard on the small, shiny chip inside, grinding it into the carpet. Mark looked terrified, half-collapsed on the floor, eyes squeezed shut. Ethan crouched down, looking down at the man he’d reduced to a trembling mess. He grabbed a handful of Mark’s hair and delivered several hard slaps across his face. “Scared now?” Ethan gripped Mark’s chin, his voice low and dangerous. “You ever mess with my wife again, I’ll end you.” Mark nodded rapidly, stammering apologies to Ethan. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I messed up…” “Apologizing to me won’t cut it. You need to apologize to my wife.” I looked down at the man I’d actually loved for several years, now groveling at my feet like a stray dog, telling me he was wrong, that he was a piece of garbage, begging me to forgive him. Meanwhile, Ethan was on the phone with Mikey, telling him to come get Mark out of the house, saying he was bad luck. Mikey arrived quickly. After Mark was gone, the room suddenly felt incredibly quiet. “Grace,” Ethan said, pulling me abruptly into his arms. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. No one will ever bully you again.” I asked him, my voice trembling slightly, “…Did you look… at those pictures?” He was silent for a long moment, then whispered softly against my ear, “Yeah. I looked.”

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My next-door neighbor is Liam Reynolds, the national heartthrob. Thanks to his insane track record—six movies and two TV shows in just two years—his house is mostly empty. We’re neighbors, right? So, letting my big orange tabby, Cheeto, hang out in his yard isn’t that big a deal, is it? I swear to God, I didn’t plan it initially! But the fence the builders put up is ridiculously low. Cheeto basically vaults over it like it’s nothing. He can jump it, but can I? I tried, once. Got my butt stuck. It took several security guards to pry me down. Mortifying. After that, His Majesty Cheeto just sunbathed in Liam’s yard during the day and came back to torment me at night. Until one night, the little traitor didn’t come home. Suddenly, I knew exactly how my parents felt when I snuck out to that party back in eighth grade. I can still hear my mom standing at the school gate, pointing right in my face and yelling, “Ava Fang, I don’t know who on earth would ever marry you!” So there I was, standing at Liam’s massive front gate, yelling Cheeto’s name over and over. “Cheeto! Cheeto!” Probably kept it up for five or six minutes, my voice getting hoarse. Nothing. Dead silence. Desperate times. I tentatively gripped the iron bars, put my feet on the lowest rung, and was about to hoist myself up when the gate… just slid open. Slowly. So, technically, I didn’t break in. The gate practically swung me inside! Totally invited. Yeah, let’s go with that. It doesn’t count as trespassing if the gate asks you in, right? I searched the whole yard. No Cheeto. The house lights were dim, like always. My stomach churned. Don’t tell me the little furball actually got inside? The front door was definitely locked. Was I seriously going to have to climb a window? Using the stone fountain base in the yard as a step stool, I carefully reached up and pushed on a second-floor wooden window. Creak. It actually opened! What the heck was going on with this house today? Was it haunted? “Can I help you?” A cool male voice suddenly came from inside the window. I looked up, and there was Liam Reynolds, staring straight at me with an expression of utter disbelief. 2 I knew who he was, obviously. Not just because he was a superstar actor, but because my best friend, Maya, totally stans him. I’d always been a little skeptical when Mike from security claimed Liam lived next door; figured he was just bragging. “Uh… hi,” I managed, feeling like an idiot. “I’m your neighbor.” Liam looked me up and down, a mix of amusement and resignation in his voice. “Well, you have a… unique way of saying hello.” Cheeto, nestled comfortably in his arms, let out a smug little meow, basically saying, The royal audience is over. You may leave. At Liam’s suggestion, we moved our conversation somewhere slightly less precarious – namely, inside his living room instead of me dangling from his window. Liam sat on the couch, wearing a black silk robe that hung open slightly, still holding a now-sleeping Cheeto. Now I finally had a chance to really look at the guy. Deep-set eyes, flawless skin, features so perfect they looked like they were CGI-generated. He seemed entirely focused on petting the cat, so I had to break the awkward silence. “Sooo… selfie?” Liam glanced down at his revealing robe, then back at me with that same look of disbelief. Right. Okay. Maybe a bit forward. “You say this cat is yours, and you’re my neighbor,” Liam said, clearly not buying it yet. “Do you have any proof?” How was I supposed to prove I was me, and Cheeto was my Cheeto? “You can call security! Mike knows me!” “No way,” he countered immediately. “It’s the middle of the night, and you just climbed into my house. How would we explain that if it got out?” He wasn’t trying to give me a hard time, though. After a simple confirmation that seemed to satisfy him, he handed Cheeto back. The cat’s fur is key for scent lock-in. I buried my nose in his orange fluff – classic sea salt and sage. Oh my god! His taste was impeccable. I loved it! As he walked me (and Cheeto) to the front door, he gave me a friendly warning, “Next time you want to drop by, maybe just ring the doorbell?” Next time? There was going to be a next time?! Okay, fine, his main point was probably “use the damn door like a normal person,” but my brain was already buzzing. Who cared about details! 3 I barely slept that night. My mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible excuse to “drop by” again. Every idea felt either too formal or totally unrealistic. The only foolproof method seemed to be… tossing Cheeto back into his yard. So, I spent half the night mentally practicing the perfect, elegant cat-toss technique. The next morning, I was sleeping soundly, Cheeto curled up beside me, until about 9:30 when Maya’s frantic call jolted me awake. “Ava! Wake up! Wake UP! Oh my god, I’m literally going to die!” I couldn’t figure out what crazy drama she was having this early. “What’s wrong, Maya?” I mumbled, still half-asleep. “Liam Reynolds’ house got broken into last night! Did you hear?” Maya sounded both panicked and outraged. Her words snapped me fully awake. Broken into? By… me? Maya didn’t wait for a response. “His agency hasn’t said anything yet, but there’s this video online… you can see this girl sneaking around, climbing his window! It looks like your neighborhood, Ava! Be careful, okay? Lock your doors, don’t let…” My brain went completely blank. Oh crap. They filmed me. Cut to: me sitting numbly on Liam Reynolds’ expensive sofa. Across from me sat Liam himself, his agent, his personal assistant, a crisis PR person, and a few other serious-looking people. Everyone except Liam had their brows furrowed, either yelling into phones or frantically typing, doing damage control on social media. The atmosphere felt like a full-blown interrogation. My skin prickled. Liam must have sensed how freaked out I was. He tried to lighten the mood. “Do we really need to make this so complicated? Can’t we just tell the truth?” His agent looked like she wanted to slam her hand on the table. “My dear boy, a young woman climbs into your window in the middle of the night to find her cat? Who on earth is going to believe that?” Liam leaned back, a sudden glint in his eye. “Then let’s say she’s my girlfriend. We were just… playing a little game. Our ‘thing’.”

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