1. My year-end bonus was a solid hundred thousand, and my girlfriend, Valerie, insisted I treat her to a grand dinner. The bill, though, came to eight hundred thousand. My jaw dropped. This was daylight robbery! I refused to pay. The restaurant owner, a formidable woman, didn’t bat an eye. Instead, she had her crew seize me, snarling that if I didn’t come up with the cash, they’d make me disappear. I finally got a good look at her, and a surge of anger coursed through me. Wasn’t this Ramona Flowers, one of my mother, Astrid Vance’s, former associates? My mom, for all her ruthless reputation as a crime boss, had always been incredibly tender with me, her only son. When my dad divorced her years ago, I was disgusted by her violent lifestyle and refused to see her. She’d promised me then, tears in her eyes, that she would retire from the underworld for good. I never imagined that all these years later, her crew would still be running their old rackets! And now they’d actually kidnapped me! … “Think you can dine and dash? You seriously don’t know whose turf you’re on, do you?” “Settle the bill, or you’ll lose an arm!” A group of menacing men and women encircled me. One guy even held a cleaver, testing its edge on my shoulder. My heart pounded. Was this some kind of crooked establishment? No wonder four dishes cost eight hundred thousand. They were clearly trying to extort me! I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Where’s Valerie? Where did she go?” I asked. If Valerie hadn’t insisted on coming to this particular place for dinner, I would never have found myself in this godforsaken corner of the city. Sure, the décor was opulent, clearly expensive, but I figured my hundred thousand bonus would cover even a lavish meal. I never expected a bill of eight hundred thousand. This was definitely a setup! They might as well have just robbed me outright, instead of serving me a meal first. When I mentioned Valerie, someone sneered, “Looking for her won’t do you any good. She’s the one who told us to grab you!” “Said you were a fat cat, ripe for the picking. Eight hundred grand? She claimed you could easily cough up eight million! Guess she was wrong. What a pain!” “Worst case, we break his legs and send him to a high-end club to entertain some cougars to earn that eight hundred grand!” I gasped, shouting, “No! This is kidnapping and extortion! It’s illegal! Let me go!” The woman laughed as if I’d told the funniest joke. “Illegal? Honey, I am the law around here!” “Don’t want to go with the cougars? Fine. Pay the bill! Otherwise, I’ve got plenty of ways to make you suffer!” With that, she grabbed my neck with a wicked grip and plunged my head into a water barrel. The intense sensation of suffocation brought me to the brink of death. I thrashed and struggled, finally gasping for air. A wise man knows when to yield. I quickly tried to negotiate. “I’ll pay, but I don’t have that kind of money on me right now. How about you let me make a call? I’ll have someone bring the money over.” I wasn’t lying. Most of the money I earned was with my dad. Only this hundred thousand bonus was in my own account. Even if they drowned me, I couldn’t produce eight hundred thousand. As soon as I finished speaking, a heavily made-up woman slapped me. “Head to toe in designer clothes, and you don’t have eight hundred grand? Who’d believe that!” “Make a call? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning! If you dare call the cops, I’ll tear you apart!” At that moment, a younger woman, a punk-rock type, grew impatient. “Ramona, stop wasting time with him. Just send him to the club already!” “Rich women these days love pretty boys like him. He’ll fetch a good price!” I stared intently at the woman they called Ramona. She looked familiar. It was Ramona Flowers! Ramona, known as “Ramona,” was one of my mother Astrid Vance’s top lieutenants. My mom was a legendary crime boss, decisive and ruthless, yet she reserved all her tenderness and affection for me, her son. 2. My father, Johnny Reed, was a scholarly man. Mom had relentlessly pursued him, and I was born from their union. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to divorce her. The reason I didn’t stay with Astrid back then was precisely because I couldn’t stand her constant violence and underworld dealings. Astrid, with tears in her eyes, had promised me she would clean up her act. All these years passed, and I never imagined her old crew would still be running their rackets – and now they’d kidnapped me! If I hadn’t been studying abroad for so long and my eyesight hadn’t been an issue, I would have recognized her sooner. Shocked and furious, I blurted out, “Ramona Flowers, are you blind? How dare you kidnap me!” The punk-rock girl paused for a second, then slapped me. “You’re asking for it! Do you think you can just call Ramona by her name?” With that, she raised a whip to strike me. Ramona quickly stopped her, looking wary. “How do you know my name?” Thinking she’d recognized me, I shouted, “Because I’m Astrid Vance’s son!” “Let me go right now, or if my mom finds out, she’ll have your head!” The moment I said it, the wariness on Ramona’s face turned into a mocking laugh. “You? You think you can pretend to be Astrid’s son? You’ve got a death wish!” I was speechless. “I am Astrid Vance’s son, Julian Vance!” Ramona grabbed my collar, scoffing. “During dinner, your girlfriend clearly called you John Reed. Do you think we’re deaf?” I quickly explained, “I really am Julian Vance. My dad took my mom’s last name when they got married, so I shared hers. After they divorced, I changed it back to my dad’s!” Ramona had been my mom’s confidante back in the day; she had to know my father’s name. But to my shock, the next second, Ramona slammed a club into my knee. “Astrid and Johnny are deeply in love! They would never divorce!” “If you dare spread rumors again, I’ll rip your mouth out!” I gasped in pain, suddenly remembering that my mom had kept the divorce a secret from outsiders. She was afraid people at school would gossip and affect my studies. It seemed that secrecy was now costing me dearly. Just then, someone handed my phone to Ramona. A flicker of hope ignited within me. If she saw my lock screen, she would surely recognize me. But Ramona held the phone, comparing my face to the picture for a while, then spat at me. “I can’t believe I fell for your tricks again and again!” “You think if you Photoshop a picture with Astrid, I’ll believe you?” “Little Julian was dark-skinned and stocky! A pretty boy like you, trying to impersonate him!” With that, Ramona raised the club again, ready to strike. It was true that I used to be a round, chubby kid. But after high school, I joined a weight loss program, shed fifty pounds, and revamped my hairstyle and wardrobe. My greatest joy used to be hearing people tell me how handsome I’d become. Now, I found myself in a darkly humorous situation. As the club was about to descend, a bespectacled man next to her suddenly stopped Ramona. “Ramona, could this punk be one of Astrid’s kept men?” “If you harm him, what if Astrid comes looking for answers?” Before he could finish, Ramona glared at him fiercely. “Are you trying to get yourself killed too? Astrid and Johnny are known as a model couple! How could she keep a pretty boy?” “Now, even if he pays the bill, he’s not leaving!” “I hate nothing more than home-wreckers like this!” 3. With that, she motioned to some of her henchmen, ordering them to sever my tendons. My hands and feet were bound, making movement impossible. I screamed in desperation, “I am Astrid Vance’s son! If you touch me, she’ll make you pay!” But then, a sharp pain shot through my thigh as I felt a deep gash. “Still running your mouth even when death is at your doorstep? Today, not even the Almighty can save you!” The excruciating pain plunged me into despair. Just then, a knock came at the door, and a voice called out, “Ramona, the Big Boss is here! She wants to pick out a private room for a birthday celebration! She’s looking for you!” Ramona’s face lit up. “Really? The Big Boss hasn’t been here in ages. I need to make a good impression this time!” Then, with a look of disgust, she pointed at me. “Deal with this pretty boy immediately. Don’t let the Big Boss see him; he’ll only bring bad luck!” With that, Ramona and her crew rushed out of the room. The only person Ramona would call “Big Boss” was my mother, Astrid Vance. Could it be her? Hope surged within me. If I wanted to escape, now was my only chance. As I was being led out of the room, my head still covered, I suddenly kicked the man holding me in the groin. He groaned, immediately loosening his grip. I stumbled, desperate to flee. But unfamiliar with the hotel layout and hampered by my injured leg, I tumbled down the stairs. The fall knocked the wind out of me! Before I could even react, the man from behind me rushed forward and slammed something hard into the back of my head. “You little bastard, how dare you kick me? I’ll beat you to death!” My head spun. I thought I saw my mother’s figure at the end of the hallway. Then, I was dragged away, losing consciousness. When I woke up, I was tied in a utility closet, my mouth taped shut. There was no one around. Had everyone rushed off to greet Astrid? That meant my mom was still here. As long as she was, I had a chance! I quickly shuffled to a corner, desperately trying to rub the ropes against the wall. Just then, hushed voices drifted from outside the door. I strained to listen, and to my shock, it was Valerie! “Did you get the money? Give me my cut!” The person on the other side sounded annoyed. “You have the nerve to ask! This pretty boy only had a hundred grand in his account and dared to impersonate the Big Boss’s son. He’s got a death wish! But he does look pretty good.” “You should take this chance to check his car for anything else valuable. My husband’s not here, so I’m going to have some fun inside!” “It’s been ages since I’ve seen such a fresh-faced pretty boy!” Valerie was silent for a moment, then her voice was tinged with disgust. “He used to act so high and mighty around me, I thought he was some untouchable prince. Never thought he’d be licking other women behind my back!” “But he must have money. His car alone is worth over a hundred thousand. How could he not afford eight hundred thousand in ransom?!” My heart sank. I had always believed Valerie was fragile and innocent, incapable of harming me. I thought someone must have forced her. But it was all a façade. This was her true face! I’d been such a fool, buying her gifts and taking her to fancy dinners the moment I got my bonus. I was completely misguided. Just then, the ropes on my arm were almost severed. I was about to celebrate, but the next second, I heard the click of the lock turning. I quickly scanned my surroundings. The window was sealed. Escape was impossible. I gripped the nearly broken rope, quickly retreated to the wall, and pretended I had just woken up. 4. The door opened, and a heavily made-up, plump middle-aged woman leaned in, a lecherous grin on her face. “Well, handsome, I advise you not to try escaping. Not even a fly can get out of this place, let alone a grown man.” “How about this? You can call me your godmother. You’ll live the high life with me, and you won’t have to pay that eight hundred grand. What do you say?” With that, she reached out, leering, to touch my chest. I rolled my eyes, quickly dodging her hand. “Ugh! I wouldn’t even want a crime boss as a godmother, so why would I want some old madam? You don’t want a godson, you want to keep me! You shameless old toad…” Before I could finish, she pressed a stun gun against my chin. “I’m giving you one last chance. Think carefully before you speak!” A wise man knows when to yield. I quickly feigned submission. “Let’s… talk… calmly…” The middle-aged woman finally released me, her grin widening. “So, you’re willing to come with me?” I coughed violently a few times. Just as I was about to speak, I saw a scrawny, bald man walk in. If I wasn’t mistaken, these two were a couple. Seeing that the woman hadn’t noticed him, an idea sparked in my mind. I deliberately spoke with a sarcastic tone. “Your husband treats you so well, do you really have the heart to keep a pretty boy behind his back?” “Aren’t you afraid of what he’ll do if he finds out?” The woman’s voice suddenly rose several decibels. “Don’t even mention that bald loser! He’s useless every time. He makes me sick just thinking about him!” “Handsome, if you just stay with me, I’ll give you everything…” Before she could finish, the bald man slapped her from behind. “Charlene, you bitch! Trying to sneak around with another man right under my nose? I’ll kill you today!” With that, the two began to fight. I quickly stoked the flames. “Lady, if you beat your husband, I’ll be yours!” “A man who hits women is definitely no good. If you don’t teach him a lesson, he’ll just do it again next time!” Charlene, hearing this, immediately sprang into action. Her nearly two hundred pounds of weight pinned her husband to the ground, and she furiously began to pummel him. Seizing the opportunity while they were locked in a chaotic brawl, I ducked low and scurried out the door. But as I reached the entrance, they spotted me. My injured leg prevented me from moving quickly. Just then, from the second-floor railing, I saw Astrid Vance, surrounded by her entourage, about to leave the hotel lobby. I was about to shout, but then someone pursuing me clapped a hand over my mouth. Seeing myself about to be dragged back, I hardened my resolve. I wrapped my arms around the person behind me and leaped from the second floor. The hotel lobby had a high ceiling; the second floor was equivalent to a typical third floor. Falling from that height, even if I didn’t die, I’d be crippled. But I couldn’t care less. If I couldn’t escape now, I was doomed. Splash! I crashed into the giant fish tank in the lobby. The fish tank couldn’t withstand my weight and shattered, sending water and glass everywhere. My face was sliced by the glass, blood staining the floor. Even with the water’s cushion, my legs and arms were broken, making it almost impossible to move. Fortunately, Astrid, hearing the commotion, turned her head just as she was about to exit. She frowned, clearly displeased. “What in the world is going on here?” “Are you back to your old tricks behind my back again?!” For the past twenty years, Astrid had always presented herself as a gentle, easygoing mother to me.

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“The ‘child-free’ decision was a mistake. Mom’s getting old; there’s no more time to wait.” “How many months?” I looked up at my husband, Eason Reed. “What?” “Your bastard child.” Eason’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I was planning to find someone to have a baby. If you mind, once the child is a little older, I can bring them home for you to raise.” “Pfft…” I scoffed. “What a coincidence! A bastard child, our dad has one already. Why not just bring that one home?” 1. “What did you say?” Eason’s pupils constricted. “What do you mean, ‘our dad has one’?” I didn’t rush to answer. Instead, I slowly pulled a stack of photos from the drawer. Each one showed a mother and child. “This woman originally planned to cause a scene with Mom, but Mom just had heart bypass surgery last month and can’t handle stress. I stopped her.” Eason’s face turned ashen. He snatched the photos. “Nonsense! Dad, at his age, how could he be so foolish! We absolutely cannot let Mom find out about this!” I looked at him, feigning innocence. “Our dad has a child in his later years. Aren’t you happy for him? That’s your biological brother, after all. He’ll inherit the company someday too.” “Brother?” Eason’s mouth twitched. “Do you hear yourself? That’s an illegitimate child! A shameful bastard! What right does he have to be on equal footing with me?” I met his gaze, a smile in my eyes. “Honey, are you perhaps a little too nervous? Having a brother could help you share the burden. You should be happy.” “This way, we won’t have to go through all the trouble of finding a surrogate.” Eason froze abruptly. Observing his expression, I could more or less guess what had happened. When a child can’t hold it, they’ve already made a mess. When a man confesses, he’s already been to bed with someone else. So, he wasn’t asking for my opinion; he was telling me his decision. Three seconds later, he grabbed his jacket. “I’ll look into this. If it’s true, then we have a huge problem!” The door slammed shut with a heavy thud. Rapid footsteps echoed in the hallway. I slowly pulled out my phone. “Follow him. Once you have clear photos, send them to me.” Hanging up, I leaned back into the sofa, gazing out at the night sky. The decision to be child-free had been a mutual agreement eighteen years ago. Back then, he’d said children were a burden, an encumbrance. He didn’t want to be tied down for life by a ‘ball and chain.’ We were to be an ideal couple, traveling the world, seeing every mountain and river. I believed him. And I poured all my energy into the family business. Eighteen years later. I had long since lost the ability to become a mother. But men were different. They could change their minds at any time. Now, the matriarch of the family was ill and suddenly remembered the important duty of continuing the family line. And Eason, in a burst of filial piety, also felt that a life without children was incomplete. How utterly absurd. Back then, everyone criticized me, saying that having children was the lowest form of ‘poverty alleviation.’ Women shouldn’t dream of getting something for nothing by just using their womb. I thought that by holding the steering wheel of my life, I could avoid a mutual defeat. But no one ever told me. In life’s multiple-choice questions, no matter which path you take, it’s a dead end. My time was running out. I needed more help and more evidence. Otherwise, my fate would be terrible. The next second, I grabbed my car keys and headed to the hospital. Since Eason’s mother was so fond of children, how could I let her down? The woman in the bed wasn’t particularly pleased to see me. “What are you doing here? Where’s Eason?” I offered a slight smile, pulling up a chair. “Him? He seems to be meeting someone. Oh, by the way, where’s Dad?” The old woman impatiently turned her head. “He left on a business trip yesterday.” She stretched lazily. “You don’t need to come anymore. The company is at a critical stage right now. Use this time to help out more. Lin here is enough to take care of me.” Lin? I looked at the caregiver standing nearby. 2. The young woman had always worn a mask, so I hadn’t paid much attention to her appearance. Now, looking closely, she seemed a bit heavy-set. “Lin,” I addressed her. “Go get some hot water and wash my mother’s feet.” “What?” The girl froze, standing rooted to the spot, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes. “What’s wrong?” I observed her movements. “You’ve been serving my mother for a week, and you’ve never washed her feet?” “What exactly do you do during your shifts?” “I… I…” She stammered, instinctively glancing at my mother-in-law on the bed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” The old woman slapped the bed frame. “Whether I want my feet washed is up to me, it has nothing to do with you! There’s nothing for you here, just leave!” In that moment, I felt like I was watching a dramatic family play unfold. This Lin, she was definitely not just an ordinary caregiver. The next second, my phone vibrated. The photos had arrived. On the screen, Eason sat in a corner of a coffee shop, glaring furiously at the woman opposite him. In the woman’s arms was a child, two or three years old. I stared at the photos, a scoff escaping my lips. Both women looked at me simultaneously. “What are you laughing at?” I looked up at the old woman on the bed. “Mom, our men are not being faithful. Eason’s gone and gotten himself a bastard child.” In my peripheral vision, Lin’s shoulders gave a tiny jerk, but she quickly regained her composure. The old woman sneered. “Elara, are you mistaken? A woman in her forties who can’t even bear a child, and you expect me to fight your battles for you?” “A bastard child? That status isn’t for you to decide, it’s for me to decide. Don’t be ungrateful. If I were you, I would have signed the papers and cleared out a long time ago!” As her words fell, Lin visibly relaxed. Indeed. With such strong backing from her mother-in-law, she could practically walk all over this family. But what if… there were several women walking all over the family? A crab convention? “Pfft…” I couldn’t help it; I laughed again. “Mom, I think you’ve misunderstood. The bastard child I’m talking about isn’t Eason’s; it’s Arthur Reed’s.” “What did you say?” Both women gasped simultaneously. “But you don’t need to panic.” I handed my phone to my mother-in-law. “Eason has already gone to deal with that mother and child. I’m sure he’ll handle it cleanly.” I paused, my finger gently zooming in on the photo on the screen. “Speaking of which, that boy… he really looks like Dad.” The old woman trembled as she took the phone, her face ashen, one hand repeatedly clutching her chest. “How could this be… how could this be…” Lin frantically rushed forward, snatching the phone. “Madam, deep breaths! Please don’t get agitated. It’s not that bad yet! When Eason gets back, we can…” “Eason?” I interrupted her with a smile. “You might be mistaken. The one actually transferring assets isn’t Eason; it’s Arthur Reed.” I leaned in closer to my mother-in-law. “Mom, please take care of yourself. We’re counting on you to get back to the company and investigate this thoroughly. You absolutely cannot collapse at this point, or it will truly benefit that mother and child.” As my words fell, the old woman’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She slumped backward. Lin was completely panicked. She frantically lunged for the call button by the bed. “Quick! Someone! Bed 601 is in distress!” I rushed forward to help support her. “Mom, don’t get so agitated. Don’t you like children? They’re all Reed family blood, no matter whose offspring they are, you should treat them equally…” “You shut your mouth!” Lin spun around furiously, swinging a hand at me. My eyes narrowed. I raised my hand, caught her wrist, and squeezed hard. “What do you think you are? A caregiver, daring to lay a hand on me?” The next second, I shoved her. She stumbled backward, crashing straight into the nearby medical cabinet. But as she fell, her hands desperately shielded her abdomen. “Help! My baby!” A piercing scream cut through the entire hospital room. I gasped. A baby? 3. Just then, the doctor, along with several nurses, rushed in. And the old woman on the bed had already rolled her eyes back, convulsing. “Patient is in cardiac arrest! Quick, prepare the defibrillator! Epinephrine stat!” The hospital room instantly erupted into chaos. My gaze coldly swept past the busy medical staff, landing on the woman on the floor. There was a baby in her belly. I closed my eyes, taking a deep, slow breath. One against four. I seemed to already see my own ending. This was a war I couldn’t possibly win. Eason would soon discover that the woman wasn’t Arthur Reed’s mistress. He would also realize that all of this was just a trap I had set. And then? He would be furious, he would retaliate, and he would throw me out. And this woman, clutching her abdomen, would move into my home with her illegitimate child, rightfully so. I opened my eyes, looking at the deep night outside the window. But to suffer in silence has never been my style. I was alone, with no attachments. No children to raise, no parents to look after, and no weakness for anyone to exploit. So, I wasn’t afraid. The next second, I pulled out my phone and dialed Eason. “Honey, Mom’s in the ICU.” “That caregiver fell, and she’s actually pregnant! Now she’s extorting us, saying it happened on our watch and we’re responsible!” Twenty minutes later, Eason rushed breathlessly into the hospital building. He only saw me sitting alone on a bench outside the ICU, hands clasped, praying devoutly. “Elara!” He hurried over, looking around. “Vivian… I mean… where’s Lin?” I looked up, my eyes slightly red. “This woman is a liar! She’s five months pregnant! She didn’t say anything when we hired her as a caregiver, and now she’s screaming after falling. Isn’t this just a scam?” Eason’s face changed. “Then… then where is she? Where did she go?” “Why are you panicking?” I looked up at him, a hint of inquiry in my eyes. “Regardless of whether the child lives or dies, I’ll bear all responsibility. I won’t let the Reed family get involved.” Eason didn’t reply. He grabbed a passing nurse. “Where’s Lin? The girl who was with my mom?” The nurse glanced at me. “Ms. Vance arranged for her transfer. This is a cardiovascular hospital; we don’t have an obstetrics department. She needs to go to a maternity hospital for prenatal care.” Eason’s face was ashen. He pulled out his phone and made a call. Soon, the call connected. “Where are you?” Lin’s tearful voice came from the other end. “Eason, it was Elara! Elara pushed me! The baby’s fine, but I need to be on bed rest… I was so scared, I almost didn’t protect your baby… Mom getting into the ICU was also because Elara provoked her. She knows everything!” Eason hung up the phone and slowly turned to face me. His eyes had changed. “Elara, you shouldn’t have done this.” He took a step closer, his voice resolute. “I originally thought that once the child was born, I would let you raise them. After all, you can’t have children, and I can’t let the Reed family line end.” He paused, shaking his head. “But now I see, you’re simply not fit to be a mother. So, I don’t want to deceive myself anymore.” With that, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. It was a printed divorce agreement. “Sign it.” I took the agreement and scanned it. The asset division section read: Marital assets split 50/50. I smiled. From my bag, I pulled out another agreement. “Sign this one.” It stated that due to the husband having an improper relationship with another person and causing pregnancy during the marriage, he was the primary at-fault party, and 70% of the joint marital assets would belong to the wife. “70%?” Eason laughed as if he’d heard a joke. “Elara, you’re dreaming!” “Winning a lawsuit isn’t about empty words; it’s about evidence. And you have none.” With that, he turned and strode away. I sat there, watching his back disappear down the hallway. It was true, I had no evidence. I had no right to demand a paternity test between someone else’s child and my husband. Even if I knew that child was his, even if the whole world knew that child was his. As long as he denied it, the court would be powerless. I slowly gathered the two agreements, stuffing them back into my bag. But one thing he said was wrong. Evidence would come soon enough. The next second, my phone rang. “He went to the maternity hospital.” “Good.”

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Two years after my death, my husband once again wanted me to take the fall for his ‘first love.’ He came to my house with a fabricated confession, only to find it empty. Left with no choice, he inquired about my whereabouts with a neighbor. But the neighbor told him: “Her? Oh, she died a long time ago!” “I heard she suffered terribly in prison. She passed away from complications just two days after her release.” My husband refused to believe it, convinced that I was conspiring with the neighbor to deceive him. His face darkened. He scoffed, “So, I put her in prison for a few years, and now she’s putting on a show for me, is she?” “Please tell her that if I don’t see her within three days, she can forget about me continuing to support that bastard child!” My husband stormed off, sleeves flaring. The neighbor watched him leave, shaking her head with a sigh. “But that child also died in a car accident a long time ago, and the culprit is still at large…” … Down the hall, the metal security door rattled with a loud clang. I floated in the air, watching Mark Kingston and Eleanor Reed stand before my old home, as if wanting to kick a hole straight through the door. “Claire Davies, get out here! Don’t think I can’t find you just because you’re not responding to my messages!” “Don’t you know how urgent Eleanor’s situation is? How can you be so heartless, refusing to help her in her time of need?!” It had been five years since I was imprisoned. Mark and I hadn’t seen each other since. I never imagined that the only time he would remember me was to ask me to take the fall for his ‘first love’ again. Eleanor stood behind him, sunglasses loosely perched on her face, looking frail and delicate. “Mark, what if she’s not home? Maybe… let’s just forget it?” “Impossible. Where else would someone fresh out of prison go? She’s definitely hiding from me on purpose.” “Claire Davies! Get out here!” Mark gritted his teeth, his kicks against the door becoming more violent. The noise even disturbed Mrs. Jenkins next door. She opened her door, frowning. “Who are you looking for? This house has been empty for a long time.” Mark shot a cold glance at her. “I’m looking for Claire Davies. Has she gone out?” “Claire Davies?” Mrs. Jenkins’s gaze suddenly became complicated. “Oh, her… she died a long time ago.” I saw Mark’s expression freeze for a moment, but it quickly reverted to his usual dismissive look. “You must be joking. How could someone like Claire Davies…” “How could I joke about something like that?” Mrs. Jenkins interrupted him. “She died two years ago, just two days after getting out of prison. Doctors couldn’t save her. Who are you to her?” “She, how could…” Mark’s next words got stuck in his throat, and his expression subtly changed at Mrs. Jenkins’s statement. Eleanor, seeing this, tugged on Mark’s sleeve. “Mark, let it go… Claire even put out news like this. She must still resent us for making her take the fall two years ago.” “It looks like she won’t help me again. Let’s go back.” Eleanor’s single sentence instantly dispelled Mark’s suspicions, making him believe I was deliberately faking my death to avoid helping them. Sure enough, as soon as she spoke, Mark sneered, “Resent? What does she have to resent? I gave her so much money; she should be grateful!” I floated above their heads, feeling my soul tremble at his words. Money? I hadn’t received a single penny of that money. I had planned to save it for our daughter, Jasmine, for college. But just two days after I was imprisoned, all the money in the account was withdrawn. If it hadn’t been for that, how could our daughter have ended up in a situation where she couldn’t even afford medical care when critically injured! Eleanor feigned a sigh. “It’s okay, Mark. If she wants me to go to prison, I will. Honestly, I’m not afraid of any of it. I just can’t bear to be separated from you…” Mark was instantly moved. He clasped her hand. “Eleanor, don’t worry, I won’t let you leave me. I’ll find her. This time, she has to take the blame for you!” Looking at their faces, I wished I could rush down and strangle them. But I was just a transparent soul, powerless to do anything. After comforting Eleanor, Mark turned to Mrs. Jenkins, his voice stern. “Madam, please tell Claire Davies that if I don’t see her within three days, she can forget about me continuing to support that bastard child!” Mrs. Jenkins paused. “But… that child also died in a car accident a long time ago, and the culprit is still at large…” Mark couldn’t help but snort through his nose. “Pretend, keep pretending! So I put her in prison for a few years, and now she’s putting on a show for me!” He grabbed Eleanor and turned to leave, muttering, “She’s definitely hiding. I’ll dig her out if I have to!” Watching them walk away, those painful memories resurfaced. Two years ago, Mark had come to me just like this. Eleanor had been driving drunk and hit someone. He knelt before me, crying and begging me to take the blame. “Claire, just three years, it’ll pass quickly…” “This project is very important to Eleanor; she can’t have a criminal record! Please help her, just this one last time, okay?” “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a sum of money, and I’ll arrange everything for Jasmine, too, sending her to the best schools!” “Please help her, I’m begging you…” Looking at his tear-streaked face, and thinking of our child, I agreed. Because I still loved him, foolishly believing it could save our marriage. But life in prison was hellish. The other inmates, as if instructed by someone, would gang up on me during free time. They stole my food, poured water on my bed, and sharpened toothbrushes to stab my thighs. Going hungry was common, and beatings were a daily occurrence. The prison guards all turned a blind eye, sometimes even intentionally putting me in solitary confinement. Three years, a full three years. I endured it like a dog, my only hope being to see my daughter, Jasmine, after I got out. But when I finally walked out of prison, all I received was news of Jasmine’s death. She was hit by a car that ran a red light while crossing the street. Afterward, because we couldn’t afford medical expenses, she tragically missed the best treatment time. I found out later that there was no money in the card at all. Someone had withdrawn all the money a few days after I was imprisoned. And she never went to any ‘best school’ either; Mark hadn’t cared about her at all. I knelt in the hospital morgue, looking at Jasmine’s pale face, a mouthful of blood rising in my throat. The next day, my heart stopped beating. “Mommy…” I spun around, seeing Jasmine’s translucent spirit standing behind me. She tilted her head, her big eyes full of confusion. “Why did Daddy say I was a bastard child? Aren’t I Daddy and Mommy’s baby?” I knelt, trying to hug her, but could only pass through her ethereal body. “Of course Jasmine is Daddy and Mommy’s precious girl…” “Then why doesn’t Daddy want us anymore?” Jasmine’s voice was tearful. “I miss Daddy so much…” I looked up in the direction Mark had left, boundless hatred surging from the depths of my soul. He not only ruined me but didn’t care about our daughter’s death either. He wouldn’t even believe she was our child, calling her a bastard child from beginning to end! Suddenly, I felt my body grow heavy. An invisible force pulled me, following Mark’s car. It seemed my soul was still bound to this cruel man. Mark drove, making a phone call. “Find Claire Davies for me. I want her, dead or alive!” Eleanor asked worriedly, “Mark, what if she really is dead?” “Impossible!” Mark declared firmly. “She was so hesitant to go to prison for a few years back then. How could someone so attached to life possibly die?” “And don’t worry, we still have Jasmine in our grasp. She wouldn’t dare disobey.” I floated in the back seat, looking at Mark’s handsome profile, and suddenly felt like laughing. Yes, in his eyes, someone like me didn’t even have the right to die. Jasmine had followed us at some point. She lay on my lap, whispering, “Mommy, does Daddy not like me?” My eyes stung, and I smiled. “No, honey, Daddy is just… busy.” “He’s so busy… I waited for him every day, but he never even called me…” I turned my face away, not wanting my daughter to see my distorted expression. Mark, did you hear that? Our daughter waited for you until her death! The car stopped in front of a high-end restaurant. Mark, holding Eleanor’s hand, walked in, a sweet smile on his face, as if the previous incident had never happened. I followed behind them, watching Mark thoughtfully pull out a chair for her, and she, with a coy blush, accepted his attentiveness. “Mark, I’m so grateful for your help with this. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know what I’d do.” Mark gently clasped her hand. “Thank me for what? For you, I’d do anything.”

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My car crashed, and I was rushed to the hospital. Patrick Reed came, signed a paper, and left. He said there was a sudden family emergency, leaving me, with a broken leg, alone at the hospital. Coming out of surgery, I saw his stepsister post on social media: “Just a sprained ankle, apparently family gets so worried they overreact.” The picture showed Patrick’s back as he made her pig’s trotters soup, geotagged in the next city. She even directly forwarded it to our family and friends group chat, wanting to embarrass me, his official girlfriend. I smiled, and replied magnanimously: “Marry the man who makes you soup; making him family is true kinship!” 1. I have no family. I accompanied Patrick for seven years in the big city, just the two of us. When he rushed to sign the surgery consent form, a warmth welled up in my chest. I felt like I finally had family protection too. The next second, he mumbled, “Something came up at home,” and hurried away. He didn’t even glance at me, let alone ask about my injuries. Before I could say anything, his figure had already vanished into the bustling hospital corridor. Coming out of surgery, I was about to text him to say I was alright. The first thing I saw was Eleanor’s post, forwarded to the family and friends group chat. Patrick, wearing an apron, a doting expression on his face, was making pig’s trotters soup. And her caption: “Just a sprained ankle, apparently family gets so worried they overreact.” I instinctively shifted my right leg, which was fractured and in a cast. The anesthesia was just wearing off, and it hurt terribly. I called Patrick, crying, and we started arguing. He was extremely impatient, scolding me just like in all our previous arguments. “Eleanor is my stepsister. Can’t you stop being so dramatic?!” “Why didn’t I notice you were so delicate before? It’s just a minor car accident, isn’t it?” Eleanor’s playful laugh came through the phone. “Patrick, we’re having a family meal. Don’t pick up calls from outsiders!” My retort, “She’s not even related to you by blood,” never made it out before Patrick coldly hung up. I cried until my chest ached and felt heavy. I immediately blocked Patrick’s number. I didn’t want to bother my friends, so I hired a caregiver myself, enduring the curious whispers of other patients in the ward, and awkwardly stayed for over half a month. The day before my discharge, Patrick asked a friend to message me. “Darling, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” It was a sign of reconciliation. Patrick and I had been together for ten years, and he was always like this. During arguments, he would hurt me recklessly, then act as if nothing had happened and treat me well again. And I never held it against him, never brought up old scores. So he never cared if I was hurt by his repeated actions. After all, I would always smile, forgive him, and tolerate him. But this time, I was completely disappointed in him. I thought he would become my family, desperately seeking a moment of warmth from him. But from beginning to end, I was just an outsider to him. I unblocked Patrick, and simply replied with my discharge time and room number. Patrick, uncharacteristically, replied instantly. “I’ll be there on time tomorrow to pick you up, darling.” “Darling, I’ll bring you pig’s trotters soup that I made myself, okay?” If it were before, I would have been touched by his quick reply, eager to playfully demand things from him. But this time, I wasn’t interested in replying. I just turned off my phone and went to sleep. 2. My discharge was scheduled for ten o’clock. I sat on the hospital bed, waiting until past noon, but Patrick was nowhere to be seen. The nurse doing rounds looked surprised to find me still in the room. “Ms. Davies, aren’t you being discharged today?” I forced a smile. “Waiting for a friend to pick me up.” Unable to bear the gossiping looks of the other patients, I called Patrick. No one answered. I waited until past three in the afternoon, but Patrick still didn’t show up. He hadn’t sent any messages, and his phone was still unreachable. A nurse walked over, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Davies, a new patient is moving in.” I gave a wry smile. “No worries, I’ll leave now.” Just as I limped to the hospital entrance on crutches, Patrick rushed in. “I’m so sorry, darling, I just dropped Eleanor off at the company this morning, and rushed over from the next city…” I cut him off with a light laugh. “It’s fine.” Patrick paused, then frowned, looking slightly annoyed. “You’re angry. Are you mad that I’m late? Or mad at Eleanor…” “I’m not angry.” I handed him the luggage bag I was carrying. “Please take me home. I’m a bit tired.” “Claire.” He didn’t take the bag. Instead, he stared at me unhappily. “Where did you learn to be so sarcastic?” “You never used to be like this.” The luggage bag was heavy, and my arm trembled with exhaustion, so I placed it on the ground. “How am I?” I stared at him with a smile in my eyes, stating frankly, “Am I wrong to understand you?” “I…” Patrick looked a bit embarrassed. He bent down to pick up the luggage bag. “Never mind. Let’s just go home.” I slowly got into the back seat on my crutches. Patrick turned to glare at me, looking displeased, but I quickly said, “The back is more spacious.” He pursed his lips and said nothing more. Perhaps tired from waiting for him so long, I vaguely leaned against the window and drifted off to sleep. Until Patrick’s phone rang. 3. “Patrick Reed! Where have you been again!” Patrick was driving, and he’d put the call on speaker. Eleanor’s petulant voice came through. He guiltily fumbled with the volume, quickly lowering it. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, and seeing that I was still closing mine, he let out a sigh of relief. “I came to pick Claire up from the hospital.” “Guess where I am!” Eleanor laughed, the whooshing sound of wind through the phone growing harsher. Patrick’s face instantly changed. He slammed on the brakes, making me nearly fall off the seat. He didn’t spare me a glance, loudly demanding, “Eleanor! Are you racing again?!” “Have you forgotten you just sprained your ankle? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” “Where are you now?!” “You know where I am.” Eleanor airily dropped the phrase, then hung up with a laugh. Patrick was about to turn the car around, but then his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. He suddenly remembered I was still sitting in the back. “Darling…” Patrick looked troubled. I knew what he wanted to say. It was, of course, that Eleanor’s racing was more dangerous. Compared to me, who had already been discharged, she needed Patrick more. Before he could even string together his words, I, understanding his unspoken request, tapped the car door. “Just let me out here.” “I’ll just take a taxi home.” Patrick stared at me, trying to find a trace of jealousy in my eyes, but his fingers honestly clicked open the door lock. I smiled. The soft ding-dong of the lock opening sounded like a farewell bell tolling in my heart. I dragged my casted right leg out of the car. I watched the car, not hesitating for a second, turn around and speed off in the direction of the next city. He didn’t even notice that where he dropped me off was a small road where taxis rarely passed. I stood by the roadside, leaning on my crutches, waiting for a car. Mary’s older sister, my university senior and the orchestra conductor, called. “The orchestra is looking for a violinist to study in Sydney. I recommended you.” Over the past two years, whenever the orchestra chose someone to study abroad, she always thought of me first. But I couldn’t let go of Patrick, always making excuses about being used to the easy life at home. Before I could speak, she cut in, “Don’t tell me you can’t bear to leave your boyfriend! This chance to go to Sydney is one of a kind!” “It’s not like you’re going to outer space and will never see him again. If a year of long-distance can’t be sustained, then you don’t need a man like that!—I’ll introduce you to someone reliable!” I chuckled softly. Patrick and I were high school classmates; we started dating in our freshman year. Three years of high school, four years of university, and three years after graduation. Ten years. I had almost never been away from him. On the day we graduated from university, Patrick accompanied me to sweep my parents’ grave and light incense. I murmured a prayer, “I want to be with Patrick forever. I want a home.” At that time, Patrick tightly clasped my hand, promising earnestly: “Darling, I am your family.” Until Patrick’s mother remarried, and his stepsister Eleanor appeared in our lives. I loved him for ten years. Yet at my most vulnerable, he abandoned me at the hospital, abandoned me on an deserted street. My efforts and expectations truly weren’t worth it. I picked up where she left off. “When do I leave?” Mary’s older sister was overjoyed. “My dear, you’ve finally come to your senses! Grab this opportunity, and your worth will skyrocket!” “Send me a video of you playing right now; I’ll send it to the Sydney Orchestra!” I looked up at the darkening sky. There was still no sign of a taxi on the road. I laughed dryly. “Mary’s older sister, could you please come pick me up first? My leg isn’t very mobile.” 4. Mary’s older sister drove me home, cursing Patrick the entire way. As she left, she solemnly asked me, “Claire, don’t love him anymore. He’s not worth it.” I smiled and nodded. “I know.” From the moment his heart so openly leaned towards Eleanor, I knew he wasn’t worth it. But thinking of leaving him, I still found it hard to suppress the sourness rising in my throat. This trip to Sydney was probably fate’s way of giving me an opportunity. An opportunity to finally leave Patrick for good. I practiced the violin for a while, then sat on the floor, packing my luggage. Before long, I started to doze off, unconsciously falling asleep among the piles of clothes. In my dream, someone seemed to sigh, picking me up and placing me on the bed. I squinted, seeing Patrick. His once neatly ironed shirt was now wrinkled, and he reeked of strong cigarette smoke. I couldn’t help but cough, raising a hand to push him away. “You smell awful,” I mumbled. I was very sensitive to smoke. When Patrick first started working, he was under a lot of stress, but even if he smoked at the office, he would immediately shower after coming home before getting close to me. He had actually quit smoking last year because Eleanor said she didn’t like it. I didn’t know why he had started again today. Patrick seemed displeased by my rejection. He forcefully leaned over, pinning me to the bed. “Darling, don’t be angry,” he nuzzled his lips against my neck, the foul smoke continually invading my nostrils. “I was worried something would happen to Eleanor, and my mom would blame me again.” I frowned, struggling to push him away. My accidentally injured right leg hit the foot of the bed, and the pain made me gasp. “Stop it, Patrick.” I didn’t want to hear him talk about Eleanor. Every time I heard her name, I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. “I’m sorry, darling, does your leg still hurt?” Patrick was momentarily flustered. He stood up like a child who had made a mistake, helplessly watching me gently rub my right leg. I shook my head. “I’m not angry, I just don’t like the smell of smoke.” “Then I’ll go take a shower. I’m sorry, darling.” Patrick observed my expression. Seeing that I didn’t seem truly angry, he let out a sigh of relief and walked towards the bathroom. Passing the clothes piled on the floor, he asked curiously, “Why are you suddenly packing clothes?” “Going for a performance out of town?” I said, “No, I’m moving out.” Patrick stopped short. “What do you mean?” “We need to cool down and think things through.” Patrick irritably turned to glare at me. “Stop being dramatic, Claire. I haven’t slept all night, and I’m exhausted!” “Didn’t you say you weren’t angry?” I tried my best to speak calmly. “Did I make you go all night without sleep?” “I’m not being dramatic, and I’m not angry. Patrick, I’m serious.” Patrick was speechless. He stared at me blankly, as if I was a stranger to him. After a long pause, he laughed, exasperated. “Fine, fine, fine.” Then he slammed the door and left. 5. I knew what he was angry about. He probably never imagined that one day, I would be the one to proactively suggest a break, or leaving. He knew full well how much emotion I had invested in him. This was his capital for carelessly hurting me in this relationship. But I no longer cared what he thought. This day was bound to come eventually, I silently hypnotized myself, rubbing my aching eyes. Outside the window, a faint sunlight began to rise. I was still a little sleepy, so I simply curled up in my blanket and drifted back to sleep. I woke up again in the afternoon. I pushed open the bedroom door on my crutches and found Patrick and Eleanor sitting in the living room. “Sister Claire, you’re awake.” Eleanor stood up, her eyes red, instantly welling with tears. “I’m so sorry, Sister Claire, I specifically came to apologize to you.” “It’s all my fault for being so impulsive and insisting on racing, making Patrick worry and having to leave you by the roadside…” “Patrick and I are really just family…” I paid no attention, just limped past her to the refrigerator for water. “Claire! Eleanor specifically came to apologize to you…” Patrick said, his face cold. “If she apologizes, do I have to accept it?” I turned my head to look at Patrick, my gaze cool and detached. Even though I had done a lot of mental preparation, Patrick’s blatant favoritism still made me sad. “Did I ask her to apologize?” “Or did I say she did anything wrong to me?” I tried my best to remain calm, not letting my bitterness show. Eleanor was already in tears, sobbing. “I’m sorry, Sister Claire, I’m sorry… it’s all my fault…” “I swear, I’ll never contact Patrick again on my own…” How ridiculous. Her voice sounded so wronged, yet the triumph in her eyes was unmistakable. I cut her off. “Eleanor, I have never said a bad word about you, nor blamed you.” “You don’t need to use these little tricks on me.” Eleanor’s face went white, and she stammered, unable to speak. Patrick stepped forward, blocking Eleanor, “Claire, you’re going too far!” His tone was clearly tinged with panic. This was the first time I had been so unceremonious in confronting Eleanor in front of him. My change had clearly gone beyond his control. “Too far? Is it more ‘too far’ than you abandoning your girlfriend, who just got into a car accident, at the hospital?” Honestly, I was a bit tired. “Patrick, I think you’ve made your choice.” “Let’s break up.”

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The fifth year after my son’s birth, the stark truth finally hit me: my wife didn’t love me or our boy. To escape that miserable marriage, I decided to take our son and leave. Fate, however, had other plans. A car crash. I lost a kidney, and my son, an eye. In my despair, my usually aloof wife knelt before me, publicly begging for forgiveness, promising to be our rock for life. My son and I decided to give her a hundred-day trial. If she passed, we’d stay forever. But on the ninety-ninth day… My son and I stumbled upon my wife talking to the lead doctor. “Ms. Cliff, was it really worth it, deliberately causing that accident to save Mr. Vance’s child, and then taking organs from your husband and young master?” “It was worth it. As long as Steve is happy, I’d do anything.” “What if your husband and young master find out?” Ms. Cliff fell silent, her hand instinctively going to her wedding ring. Her voice, when it came, was chillingly calm. “Then they must never know. All they want is a home, don’t they? I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to them.” So, her supposed change of heart was just a meticulously crafted deception. The happiness my son and I thought we had found was a dream she’d spun to protect the one she truly cherished. Every gift, it turned out, came with a hidden price. 1 The office hummed with a sterile quiet as Clara Cliff meticulously reviewed the report the doctor handed her. A heavy weight lifted from her chest. “Sterling’s eye works wonderfully. Knowing Vance can be discharged now, I feel much better.” The doctor bristled, unable to hold back a reminder. “Ms. Cliff! Mr. Vance, as good a friend as he may be, is not your husband. You privately took an organ from your own son for him. If that were discovered, this entire hospital would be shut down. Is this truly worth it?” Clara’s gaze hardened. She slapped the report down on the desk. “Enough. It’s not your place to dictate what I do. Steve only has Sterling. How could I bear to just watch? It’s just an eye, after all. It doesn’t affect his life.” The doctor, enraged, challenged her directly. “Ms. Cliff, can you guarantee your husband and son will never know the truth? What will you do if they find out you almost killed them for Mr. Vance?” Clara fell silent. She pulled out her phone and gazed at the happy family photo on her wallpaper, her eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion. “They won’t know. I’ve hidden it well. And…” She extinguished the screen, her voice filled with a chilling certainty. “Julian and Caleb, they love me very much.” My hand, clutching my son’s, tightened. A bone-deep chill ran through me, shaking me uncontrollably. I still remember that day, my six-year-old son lying in the ICU bed, asking me with a blank stare, “Daddy, where’s my left eye? Why is it gone?” That day, I cried until my voice was hoarse, until my body convulsed, even wishing I could just die. I hated myself for taking my son away. Hated myself for not protecting him. Hated myself for being an unfit father. But it turned out, the one I should hate most was Clara Cliff. My son, too, clamped his hand over his mouth, unable to believe that the person who’d cost him his eye was his own mother. Clara closed the report, her voice bright with anticipation. “Since Steve and his boy are recovering well, they should be back soon. Arrange it. And remember, never let Julian find out.” Footsteps approached. My son and I scrambled to hide. But it was too late. Clara had seen us. “Julian? Caleb? What are you doing here?” 2 Clara’s voice was a frantic whisper, her breath catching in her throat with tension. My son and I exchanged a look, silently wiping away our tears. I took a deep breath, then turned, calm on the surface. “We came looking for you, figuring you’d been taking forever with that report. We got a bit lost, almost went the wrong way.” A sigh of relief escaped her, a smile almost touching her lips before my next words froze her. “What’s that in your hand? Is it my son’s and my medical report?” I stepped closer, reaching out to take it, my eyes fixed on her face. Clara’s gaze flickered, and she tucked the report behind her back. “We…we can look at it at home. No rush.” Watching her lips, now pale with anxiety, a flicker of sarcasm crossed my eyes. I withdrew my hand and, taking Caleb, turned to leave. Clara paused, then hurried to catch up, scooping Caleb into her arms. Just like she had for the past ninety-nine days, with tender affection. But Caleb didn’t wrap his arms around her neck as he usually did. His body was stiff, his eyes distant. Clara, oblivious, held him until we were in the car. It was only when she was checking his car seat that she spoke, seemingly casually. “Honey, do you remember Steve Vance? His boy was sick before, right? He’s all better now and preparing to come back to the country. He doesn’t have much family here. I was thinking, maybe he and his son could stay with us for a few days?” She watched my expression, adding, “Of course, it was just a thought. If you or Caleb object, then we won’t.” “I don’t mind. Bring them home.” Clara paused, then a smile quickly spread across her face. “Thank you, darling. You’re so kind. It’s my blessing to be married to you.” I didn’t smile. I just climbed into the back seat, pulling Caleb into my embrace. A tear flashed in my eye, unseen. Back home, Clara immediately found an excuse to leave. I knew she was rushing to arrange Steve Vance’s return. I used the opportunity to talk with Caleb. I wanted to take him away, as far from this sickening home as possible, never to see Clara again. Caleb didn’t object. He just silently tore up the diary on his desk. It chronicled every day since the accident, of Clara with us. Day 1 of the accident, my eye was gone. I asked Daddy where it fell, but Daddy just cried and didn’t say anything. Mommy cried too. She hugged me for the first time and said she would be my eyes from now on. Day 3 of the accident, Mommy came to take care of Daddy and me every day. She said she loved Daddy and me very, very much, and wanted to be our support for the rest of our lives. I told her I loved her very, very much too. Mommy cried again. Day 21 of the accident, I was discharged. Ethan found out my secret and all the kids at kindergarten started calling me ‘one-eyed freak.’ They said I was disgusting and wouldn’t play with me anymore. I cried in the storage room for a long time. But it’s okay, Daddy and Mommy love me very much. Day 25 of the accident, Dr. Sterling gave me a toy eye. Mommy said no one would make fun of me anymore. I showed the eye to Ethan and told him I wasn’t disgusting. But Ethan poked my eye with a pencil and said I was a monster, that my eye couldn’t hurt. … Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I hugged Caleb close, my heart breaking, and sobbed. “Caleb, Daddy will take you away, okay?” My son touched his cold, prosthetic eye, his eyes red, and nodded. “Okay.” 3 I set my phone to a twenty-four-hour countdown. Time to pack. Every moment we stayed was another wound to my son. Countdown: twenty-one hours. I took Caleb to kindergarten to complete the withdrawal process. At the principal’s office, I was about to knock when I heard a familiar voice from inside. “Is…is Sterling doing okay? Does his eye still bother him?” Steve Vance chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “The doctor said Sterling is recovering beautifully, and the eye feels very comfortable. Clara, I really owe you so much.” Clara curved her lips, her smile genuine. “As long as you’re happy, I’d do anything.” Steve glanced at her, then said meaningfully, “What about your husband? If he knew Sterling was using Caleb’s eye, wouldn’t he be upset? Clara, I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” His familiar tone made me want to vomit. Steve Vance had always been like this—taking all the benefits yet pretending to be utterly innocent, making people fall over themselves to please him. Five years ago, on my son’s first birthday, Steve, whose birthday wasn’t even that day, deliberately posted about celebrating alone on social media to steal Clara’s attention. She abandoned my son and me at the birthday party, running off to spend the entire night with him. Before she left, I begged her to wait, at least to finish the party with our son. But she, worried about Steve’s loneliness, simply handed Caleb to a waiter and told me not to cause a scene. My eyes welled up. I was about to leave when the tardy principal walked past me and pushed the door open. Seeing my son and me, a flicker of panic crossed Clara’s eyes. “When did you arrive? Why didn’t you knock?” Noticing my gaze on Steve Vance, she quickly explained. “Darling, don’t misunderstand. I only just found out Steve had already brought Sterling back. We just ran into each other, and I was just helping them register for kindergarten, you…” “I understand.” I cut her off, turning with my son. Steve Vance, however, called out to me with a confident, sunny smile. “Julian, long time no see.” He pulled the little boy next to him forward and introduced him to my son. “Caleb, this is your older brother, Sterling. Say hello. You two have a special connection.” The boy leaned in, staring curiously at my son’s eye. Then, with a look of distaste, he said, “Daddy, his eye is fake. It’s disgusting.” Caleb’s face instantly paled, and he shrank behind me, ashamed. My whole body trembled with fury. But Clara, perfectly timed, stepped in front of Steve Vance and said awkwardly, “Darling, don’t be angry. Sterling didn’t mean it. He’s just a child, he doesn’t understand anything. We adults don’t need to argue with a child, do we?” Her words were entirely in defense of Steve Vance’s son. Caleb stared at her blankly, disbelief in his eyes. Just yesterday, Clara had flown into a rage over a single mocking word directed at our son. Now, she was brazenly protecting the person who had mocked him. It seemed that with a different person, her attitude changed completely. At that thought, the light in my son’s eyes dimmed. I had no more patience. I took Caleb’s hand and left. Clara was left staring frantically at our retreating backs until Steve Vance called her name four or five times before she reluctantly came back to herself. Countdown: nineteen hours.

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After successfully ‘winning over’ the school bad boy, I dropped all pretenses and started making his life a living hell. No skipping class for the arcade, he had to be at my beck and call, and he wasn’t allowed to get mad at me. Despite all this, the ‘progress bar’ above his head continued to steadily climb. I was convinced he was madly in love with me. Until the system finally came back online a year later. I confidently showed it the bad boy’s ‘progress bar.’ The system stared at the bright red numbers above his head, silent for a long moment. Finally, it gritted out: “That, my friend, is the Annoyance Meter!” 1 I immediately denied it. “No way! Adrian is totally smitten with me!” The system winced. “No mistake, that’s the Annoyance Meter. The pink glow is for actual progress. Listen,” it sighed, seeing my silence, “it’s my fault. I was in a rush back then and accidentally left you with an Annoyance Meter.” “Can I check his progress bar now?” I asked, defeated. The system apologized. “The main system is down for now, so I can’t display it. But with his Annoyance Meter so high, I doubt he’s developed much affection for you. Host, what exactly have you been doing to annoy him so much?” Silence. I slowly recalled my actions over the past year. When I was pursuing him, I played the sweet, innocent girl. The moment he agreed to be my boyfriend, I shed the act. No more pretending; I treated him like my personal errand boy. I hated his silver hair and forced him to dye it black. I forbade him from going to the arcade, making him accompany me to the library instead. If he showed even a hint of reluctance, I’d throw a tantrum. A year of this. The school bad boy, who used to skip class daily for online gaming, had been transformed into the perfect, devoted boyfriend, seemingly by my hand. And the numbers above his head just kept climbing. Only now did I realize. His love for me was fake. Adrian’s Annoyance Meter had long since maxed out. He probably regretted getting together with me from day one. He must have been plotting how to break up with this drama queen. The system, equally exasperated, advised: “Host, you need to rein in your temper. With a wild card like him, you need to go with the flow, lower his Annoyance Meter! Then, let him slowly fall for you, got it?!” Before I could nod, Adrian’s voice came from behind me. “Daydreaming again?” I snapped back to reality and saw Adrian, his face unsmiling, packing my schoolbag. When I didn’t react, he gave me a cold stare. “What, didn’t you say you wanted to go to the library?” Just then, his phone rang. Adrian answered, and I heard the voices of his friends on the other end. “Adrian, arcade tonight? You seriously not coming?” Adrian, his black hair now neatly styled, looked annoyed. “No, I’m going to the library with my girlfriend.” His friends groaned. “Adrian, you’ve really changed. What’s so great about a boring place like the library?” “The school bad boy, going to the library? People will laugh!” Adrian snorted at their words, lowering his gaze to me. “If I don’t go, and she gets mad, who’s going to calm her down?” He started to hang up. Finally reacting, I quickly stopped him. “Wait—” Adrian held the phone, sounding exasperated. “What now, Princess? Something else you’re unhappy about?” I took my backpack from him. Taking a deep breath, I looked at him with genuine consideration. “You don’t have to come to the library with me. Go to the arcade and have fun.” Adrian finally paused. 2 He looked at me, surprised, which was rare. “You sure?” I said naturally, “Of course. I’m meeting my friend, Cassie, at the library, and we’re having dinner afterward. You don’t need to tag along.” Adrian lowered his eyes, studying my face intently. He seemed to be trying to discern if I genuinely wanted to hang out with Cassie or if I was being sarcastic. But my expression remained normal throughout. Adrian asked again, “So, I’m going then?” I nodded. “Yep, go on.” He finally let out a sigh of relief, sounding somewhat appreciative. “We really should give each other some space. Alright, I’ll find you after you two finish dinner.” I nodded obediently again. That evening, after Cassie and I finished dinner, I instinctively reached for my phone to call him to pick me up. Then I remembered he was probably having a blast gaming. If I called and ruined his fun, wouldn’t he just get more annoyed with me? After some thought, Cassie and I just hailed a cab back. Back at the dorm, I hurried to take a shower. When I came out, my roommate called out, “Summer, your boyfriend’s waiting for you downstairs. He seems pretty anxious.” I was a bit puzzled. Shouldn’t he still be gaming at this hour? Adrian usually stayed at the arcade all night. I checked my phone and found Adrian had called me countless times. The last few messages read: Answer your phone. Why didn’t you call me to pick you up after dinner? Where are you now? Who brought you back? What are you doing? Why aren’t you talking to me? Didn’t you agree to me going to the arcade? …Silent treatment, huh? Fine, then neither of us will talk. Fifteen minutes later, he sent another message. Baby, come downstairs. 3 Reading the messages, I immediately pulled on my clothes and hurried downstairs, terrified of further misunderstanding and annoyance from Adrian. Adrian stood under a streetlamp, staring at me expressionlessly. Before he could speak, I ran over to him, explaining, “I was just in the shower, not ignoring you on purpose. Cassie and I just happened to come back together after dinner; I didn’t want to bother you by making you come all this way to pick me up.” After delivering that thoughtful and obedient explanation, I eagerly looked at the numbers above his head. They hadn’t decreased. He still seemed very annoyed with me. Adrian listened to my explanation, offering no further comment. It was as if he hadn’t been the one bombarding me with questions on his phone moments before. He simply handed me a small cake, raising an eyebrow. “Alright, good, as long as you’re not mad. It’s cold out, don’t catch a cold. Take the cake and go eat it inside.” If this were before, I’d probably still be clinging to him, chattering on about nonsense, then forcing him to kiss me. As for why ‘forcing’… he thought it looked bad in public. I once dragged him behind a tree, righteous in my demand: “What’s so bad about it? Just kiss me quickly, one second is all it takes!” Adrian would reluctantly peck my lips. But now, I dared not cause a fuss. I obediently took the cake, intending to leave. The next second, Adrian pulled me back. I turned, puzzled. He then quickly bent down and pressed a kiss to my lips. Seeing me stunned, he raised an eyebrow again. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you say you wanted a goodnight kiss?” I stammered for a few seconds, remembering the system’s advice: go with his flow, no more forcing him. So, I shook my head. Seriously, I said, “No, you don’t have to anymore! Not ever!” I tried hard to agree with his past view: “It’s true, it doesn’t look good in public.” Adrian stiffened at my words. His thin lips pressed into a straight line. He didn’t speak for a long time. I waited nervously. Finally, I heard him say, his tone unusually flat, “Oh. Alright. It doesn’t matter if I don’t kiss you.” 4 Back in the dorm, I got ready and lay in bed. Normally at this hour, I’d be on a long phone call with him, chatting about what happened at school today. Then I remembered Adrian had been really busy with a competition lately. After a long internal debate, I reluctantly decided not to call him. Instead, I picked out a few interesting things, typed them out concisely, and sent them to him. Adrian was always a good listener. Without realizing it, I sent him a long string of messages again. He replied to each one, then suddenly asked, “Doesn’t typing tire you out?” I stared at the message, stunned. Bingo! Adrian still thought my messages were too much! He was subtly telling me to stop texting him. I swallowed the bitterness in my heart and replied meekly, “Okay, it is a little tiring.” He quickly showed “typing…” on the other end. But I immediately sent my next message: “Then I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.” Adrian’s “typing…” disappeared. After a long pause, he replied: “…Alright.” 5 For the next few days, I strictly followed the system’s advice. No more making a fuss, no more constantly clinging to him. Instead, I indulged him in everything. I even suggested, “Baby, don’t you like dyeing your hair? You can dye it whatever color you like now.” Adrian looked surprised. “But you don’t like me with dyed hair?” I remembered what I had done before. I had made him dye his hair black, button his collar all the way up, and wear black-rimmed glasses. I’d essentially transformed a school bad boy into a model student. While putting on his glasses, I’d told him, “This gentle, studious look is the coolest, don’t you get it?” Adrian didn’t understand but complied. But now, I told him, “I’ll love you no matter what color you dye your hair!” Besides, with his face, he could pull off any hair color. Adrian seemed quite pleased by my words. So, that very day, he went and dyed his hair rose gold. The black-rimmed glasses were gone too, fully revealing his striking features. His friends, seeing him, nodded in approval. “Nice, nice, now that’s more like a bad boy!” “Adrian, you should have ditched that good student look ages ago!” Unfortunately, despite my efforts, Adrian’s Annoyance Meter remained unchanged. The system consoled me, “It’s okay, Host. No increase is already a good sign. Let’s keep trying!” Until one evening. My mom called. “Summer, your Aunt Maya’s family is back from abroad. Come have dinner with them.” Afraid I wouldn’t remember, Mom reminded me, “You know, the ones who lived next door when you were little. You used to always cling to their son and play with him.” I vaguely remembered. So I nodded and agreed to go. After telling Adrian, I went to the designated restaurant. My parents and Aunt Maya’s family were still close, but it had been a long time since I’d seen them, so it was a little awkward. Their son, Vance, seemed to have just returned from studying abroad this year. He didn’t talk much, but his tone was very gentle when he spoke to me. After dinner, I needed to head back to school for class the next day. Aunt Maya, hearing this, immediately said, “Vance hasn’t been drinking, so let him drive you back.” Before I could say anything, Vance had already picked up his keys. “Let’s go.” I had intended to call Adrian, but seeing this, I decided against it. At school, since it was late, he drove me directly to the dorm building. As we were talking, Vance suddenly exclaimed, “Summer, why is that person staring at you?” I followed his gaze. Adrian was leaning against a tree, staring intently at me. He walked towards me, step by step, his rose-gold hair striking. Adrian’s gaze slowly fell on Vance. Only then did I notice Vance’s attire: black hair, black-rimmed glasses, collar buttoned all the way up. Vance shielded me slightly, his tone gentle, “Summer, who is this?” He perfectly fit the image of the gentle, studious type. Adrian didn’t reply to Vance. He just stared at him for a long moment. Then, expressionlessly, he looked at me, his voice firm. “When you made me dye my hair black, you already had a blueprint in mind, didn’t you?” I didn’t react for a moment. But the next second, I saw Adrian’s Annoyance Meter, after all this time, finally move. I watched in horror as it shot up another huge notch, almost maxing out. 6 The system’s alarm blared in my head, making me momentarily deaf to his words. I instinctively asked, “What blueprint?” Adrian let out a “tsk” at my bewildered expression. …And then his Annoyance Meter completely hit 99%. He stared at me, his gaze heavy, and for the first time, he was truly fierce with me. I was startled by him, my mind a blank. I couldn’t even begin to process what he had just said. When I finally came to, he had already sent Vance away. Only the two of us remained. Adrian dragged me to a dark, secluded corner, using the tree trunk as cover, pinning me against the wall. “Who was that person? Your childhood friend?” A rare hint of mockery flickered across his usually cold face. I didn’t know what that had to do with Vance, so I answered honestly, “Um… we played together when we were little. He just came back from abroad recently.” Adrian gripped my wrist tightly, asking, “What about me? What about me?” He stared at me, enunciating each word. “Summer, this past year, have you been treating me like a dog? Is that amusing?” “Making me dye my hair black, wear glasses, changing me into someone else…” Hearing his words, my heart sank even deeper into despair. No wonder the Annoyance Meter was rising. He was clearly bringing up old grievances. He must still resent me for bossing him around and controlling him all that time. But I had been trying my best to rein in my temper lately. What would it take for Adrian to forgive me? After a long silence, he took a deep breath and calmly asked another question, “Summer, when you first pursued me, who were you thinking about?” At his question, I felt a pang of guilt. Indeed, my initial motive for pursuing him wasn’t pure. I just wanted to complete the mission and get the 30 million credit reward from the system. That was 30 million – my family couldn’t earn that much in a lifetime. Even spending 30,000 a month, it would last over 80 years. Enough for my parents and me to live comfortably. So, when I first pursued him, all I thought about was the 30 million. Logically, I should now say some sweet, coaxing words, lie and say he was the only one on my mind. But when I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Adrian lowered his gaze to my silence, scoffing. “What are you feeling guilty about? Hmm?” With that, he leaned in and kissed me directly. It was less a kiss and more a bite, like a dog latching onto meat and not letting go. A year of dating, and he had been so indulgent with me that I almost forgot. Adrian was actually a mad dog. I could barely breathe, sliding down the wall. Adrian briefly released me, pulling me back up. His voice was fierce and cold. “Stand still.” Then he kissed me again. I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck, my fingertips clutching his striking hair, using it to steady myself. My lips ached from his biting, and I felt my temper rising, wanting to curse him. But then I saw the bright red Annoyance Meter above his head. I realized things were different now. I just had to tilt my head back and endure it. It wasn’t until Adrian tasted a hint of saltiness that he abruptly stopped. I ignored the tears on my face, mumbling softly, “…I won’t control you anymore, okay?” He reached out and wiped my tears away, then scoffed. “You think throwing out threats like that will make me calm down?” I was bewildered. “When did I threaten you?” He ignored me, pulling my hand and walking out of school. “Save your crying for later, baby.” That night, Adrian took me to his off-campus apartment. The room wasn’t large, but it had everything. After helping me wash up, he leaned in and kissed me again. The Adrian who used to be considerate and accommodating in every way. Tonight, no matter how much I cried or pleaded, he didn’t stop. 7 When everything was finally over, I was too exhausted to move. But then the system exclaimed excitedly in my mind, “Host! Adrian’s Annoyance Meter dropped by 1%!” The system chirped, “A 1% drop at a time! Doesn’t that mean it will only take 97 more times to clear the Annoyance Meter?” Me: ? Feeling the aches in my body, I replied ruthlessly to the system: “At that rate, the Annoyance Meter won’t be cleared, but your host will probably be dead.” Despite my words, I still stayed at Adrian’s apartment. Every little bit of a drop in the Annoyance Meter counted. So I became even more cautious, no longer checking up on him or bossing him around. Sometimes when he came back late, I’d quickly say, thoughtfully, “It’s okay, darling, even if you’re a little late.” I expected this to make him happy. Instead, Adrian’s face grew even darker. His actions became more intense each night. I was on the verge of tears, not knowing what I had done to upset him again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391983”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In the ruins of the world, I’d gotten used to my boyfriend spoiling me. I’d send him out for food again and again, and he’d always let me. Just as he returned from another supply run, his arms full, a strange screen of text flickered into existence before my eyes. 【This side character is so lazy! It’s a zombie apocalypse and she’s still making the male lead go out for snacks!】 【But isn’t the male lead the Zombie King? He has to scrub the blood off himself every single day before he comes inside, all because she’s a neat freak.】 【Only the heroine’s psychic powers can tame the Zombie King. The side chick ends up as a crippled zombie in the sewers.】 He’s the Zombie King? Panic seized me. I slammed the deadbolt on the bedroom door and scrambled under the bed. Alaric’s tearful voice came from the other side, muffled by the wood. “Rose, please open the door. I’ll go find you those potato chips tomorrow, I promise, okay?” 1 I curled into a ball under the bed, hands clasped over my head, trembling. The comment stream was still scrolling. 【She won’t let him in just because he didn’t find potato chips?】 【Dude, it’s the end of the world! Chips? She’s starting to look like a crispy little potato chip for a zombie herself. Crunch.】 【The poor guy risked his life, crossing three whole blocks to find her ramen, and she complained it wasn’t the spicy chicken flavor.】 Outside, Alaric was still sniffling. “Rose, please don’t starve yourself. I’ll leave the food by the door. I can go look for chips right now, okay?” My lips parted, but my voice was a shaky whisper. “Don’t…” His voice brightened instantly. “Then you’ll open the door, Rose? Please?” Open the door? How could I? Just half an hour ago, I was happily planning to tear open a bag of snacks. Then my vision blurred, and that text appeared out of nowhere. They called me a useless side character, a burden to the male lead, Alaric. They said he was the Zombie King. And they said I would end up as a crippled zombie, rotting in a sewer. I stared at those lines for a long time, my blood running cold. Then I bolted the door and dove under the bed. Six months ago, a virus had torn through the world. It started with our neighbor’s dog, barking at nothing, its eyes wild. Then it mauled its owner. Soon, the people who were bitten started changing, too. By the time I truly understood what was happening, the streets below our apartment were already swarming with the dead. Back then, I had just agreed to meet Alaric’s parents. The day before we were supposed to leave, I opened my front door and was nearly devoured by a zombie. He saved me, pulling me back just in time. Alaric was my neighbor. He was tall, over six feet, with a clean-cut look. When we’d pass in the elevator, he’d offer a small smile, and I’d just stare at my phone, too shy to meet his eyes. That all changed the night the power went out. I worked up the courage to knock on his door. One thing led to another, and we got close. His cooking was incredible. He was always inviting me over for dinner. I was a disaster in the kitchen, the kind of person who could burn instant ramen. After months of mooching off his hospitality, he confessed his feelings. “Rose,” he’d said, “let me cook for you every day from now on, okay?” At that moment, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. When the world ended, Alaric told me he had a fortified villa, a safe place where we could wait for rescue. It was only then that I realized he came from a wealthy family. All the food we had in this villa, he found it. I never knew how he managed to come back unscathed every time, but he’d always return like a magician, pulling my favorite things from his pack. Ramen, jerky, and sometimes, even a bag of potato chips. I never questioned it. But the comments said he was the Zombie King. They said he was bitten by his own family dog at the very beginning of the outbreak. They said a heroine would appear, tame him with her psychic powers, and together, they would build a new world where humans and zombies could coexist. It sounded incredible. Heroic. Not like his life with me. All I ever did was throw tantrums, demanding this snack or that meal. I should have known. I should have guessed. Why were there never any zombies around the villa? Why did he always return from his supply runs without a single scratch on him? And why, whenever we ate, did he just watch me, never taking a bite himself? I always just assumed he’d eaten while he was out. 2 The sounds from outside the door stopped. Gathering my courage, I crawled out from under the bed. I crept to the door, got down on the floor, and peeked through the tiny gap at the bottom. A pair of tear-filled eyes was pressed against the other side, trying to peer in. I yelped and scrambled backward as the door was pushed open. Alaric lunged forward and wrapped me in a hug, sobbing, a complete mess. “Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry! Please don’t be angry! You can hit me, you can yell at me, just please don’t go hungry…” He nuzzled my cheek and planted a kiss there. A shiver ran down my spine. I pushed him away. “Don’t kiss me.” He looked wounded. “Can I kiss you if I find the chips?” I took a step back, studying him properly. Besides being a little pale, what about him screamed “zombie”? From what I knew, there were two main types of them out there. The advanced ones looked almost human, but they couldn’t control their primal, vicious urge to bite. The basic ones were mindless eating machines. Alaric and I had been together for so long. He held me every night as we slept. He’d had a thousand opportunities to bite me, and he never did. Maybe the comments were wrong. Aside from being a bit of a crybaby and a clinger who was always calling my name, how could he possibly be the Zombie King? Could a Zombie King really be this… pathetic? “I don’t want chips anymore,” I said. Alaric blinked. “Then what do you want? I’ll go find it.” “I want to leave.” He froze, then the words tumbled out of him in a rush. “Isn’t it safe here? I can protect you, Rose. It’s dangerous out there…” The comments reappeared. 【Is leaving the only threat she knows how to make?】 【It’s the apocalypse and she’s still throwing fits. So high-maintenance.】 【But you can tell he’s really into her. Guess he has a thing for her spoiled little act.】 Seeing the panic in his eyes made my own heart ache, but I steeled myself. “I want to find other survivors.” Alaric was silent for a second. “If you want to go, Rose, I’ll go with you.” He just… agreed. He didn’t ask why. He didn’t try to stop me. He just turned and started packing. I stood in the doorway, watching him hustle around. He stuffed ramen, jerky, and bottles of water into a backpack. He even packed several changes of clothes for me. His own belongings were a tiny bundle. “It gets cold outside. You’ll need extra layers,” he muttered as he packed. “Rose gets cold so easily. What if we can’t find shelter…” A lump formed in my throat. I walked over and hugged him from behind. “I’m not going.” He stilled. “I’m staying here.” Alaric spun around, his eyes red-rimmed and shining with joy. “Rose, I swear I can protect you.” I looked at him, and suddenly, everything became clear. So what if he was a zombie? In all the time we’d been together, he had never once hurt me. And besides, if I left him, I’d probably die even faster. Better to be bitten by him than by some random monster out there. With that thought, I leaned in and offered my cheek. “You can kiss me now.” Alaric stared for a moment, then he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, his eyes sparkling. The comments were calling me shameless, accusing me of seducing the male lead. I ignored them. How was this seduction? He was my boyfriend. If that so-called heroine really showed up, and Alaric fell for her… then, and only then, would I leave. 3 That night, I climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips and tilting his chin up. “Alaric, if I became a zombie, would you leave me?” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Never.” “Even if you turn into a zombie, Rose, I’ll never leave you.” His voice was a little hoarse. “We’ll be a zombie couple. We’ll bite people together, find potato chips together…” He didn’t finish, his hips bucking beneath me. I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Same for you. Even if you’re a zombie, I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes instantly welled up. Then he gripped my waist and flipped us over. The next morning, while I was still lazing in bed, a noise came from downstairs. Someone had broken into the yard. Alaric stared at the security monitor, a flicker of surprise on his face. Two men and a woman. The girl had her hair in a ponytail. She looked ragged, but you could still tell she was beautiful. The two men flanked her, scanning the surroundings with wary eyes. The comment stream flared to life. 【Here we go! The heroine is his unforgettable first love! They only broke up because of a misunderstanding. He might hate her now, but you can’t have hate without love.】 【Her psychic powers are still weak, she can only control one zombie at a time. They’re running from a horde.】 【Get ready for the famous dog-taming scene! The heroine is about to bring the male lead to heel.】 My heart leaped into my throat. I scrambled out of bed. In the yard, the girl looked up at the security camera, her eyes lighting up. “Hello? Is anyone there? We don’t mean any harm!” she called out. “We’re just passing through and looking for a safe place to rest.” The men beside her stayed close. “Seraphina, how come there are no zombies here?” “Do you think they have some kind of advanced defense system inside?” Alaric’s voice was cold as ice as he spoke into the intercom. “You’re not welcome here.” The girl, Seraphina, was taken aback. “You? How many of you are there?” She paused, then tried a softer approach. “If it’s not convenient for us to come in, could we please just shelter in your yard for a while? We’ll leave as soon as the horde passes.” Before anyone could answer, she closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. Suddenly, Alaric clutched his head, swaying on his feet. My heart twisted. His face was even paler than usual as he leaned against a wall to steady himself. Seraphina opened her eyes and whispered to the men beside her, “There’s a zombie inside.” She didn’t know the yard was bugged with three different cameras. We heard every single word. Alaric instinctively glanced at me. I pretended I hadn’t heard a thing. 4 The comments buzzed again. 【Why isn’t he opening the door? He obviously misses her so much. He tried to kill himself over her back then, he still has the scars on his wrist.】 【His fists are clenched. He’s definitely fighting his instincts.】 【Tonight’s the night! The steamy reunion scene is coming!】 I looked down. Sure enough, Alaric’s hands, hanging by his sides, were balled into tight fists. A bitter taste filled my mouth. The voices from outside drifted in again. “Seraphina, maybe we should just wait until dark and sneak in…” I saw the man who spoke had two pistols holstered at his back. “They’re armed.” If they really wanted to get in, we couldn’t stop them. As dusk fell, we sat in the living room, eating. The rich aroma of instant ramen filled the air. I was cradling my bowl when a knock came at the door. Seraphina’s voice was faint through the heavy wood. “Could you spare some food? We lost all of ours.” Alaric dropped another piece of jerky into my bowl without even looking up. “No.” The comments were merciless. 【He’s holding such a grudge. And he gave the extra jerky to the side chick!】 【The heroine only left because she had to. Her mother was sick, and his father offered her a two-million-dollar check to disappear.】 【He’s acting tough now, but he’ll be begging for her forgiveness soon enough.】 Silence fell outside the door. Then, one of the men started cursing. “So stingy! It’s the end of the world and you’re hoarding food?” “Seraphina, stop begging. There’s a zombie in there with them. Just wait, they’ll be the ones begging us soon enough.” Seraphina paused, then her voice rang out again. “There’s a zombie hiding in your house. I can help you…” “We don’t need your help!” “There are no zombies here!” Alaric and I shouted at the same time. Her tone turned cold. “Fine. If you don’t need help, then forget it.” Silence returned. I don’t know how much time passed. I was dozing off, my head resting on Alaric’s shoulder, when he suddenly sat bolt upright. “There’s a noise.” 5 The next second, the lock on the front door clicked open. Seraphina and the two men stood in the doorway. When she saw us emerge from the living room, her face lit up with joy, then immediately froze. “Alaric? It’s you?” “There are only two of them? Where’s the zombie?” “Seraphina, did you sense it wrong?” The comments went wild. 【He’s so heartless! It gets freezing at night in the apocalypse. Is he trying to let the heroine freeze to death?】 【She’s about to cry, seeing him again.】 【My poor girl!】 Seraphina took an eager step forward. “It’s been so long, Alaric. Are you okay?” Alaric gently pulled me behind him. “Whether I’m okay or not is none of your business.” She faltered, her gaze shifting past him to me. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and a deep, sour sadness. “Is this your…” “Your friend Owen told me you took in a stray.” “Is this… the little stray you picked up?” What did she just say? She called me a pet? A knot of anger tightened in my chest, but I stayed silent. One of the men beside her sneered. “Seraphina, is this the rich boy who dumped you?” The other chimed in, “Look at this pretty boy. He’s probably only survived this long because of his stockpile of supplies.” Alaric’s face hardened. “You’re not welcome here. Leave.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, his voice like stone. “And for the record, Rose is my girlfriend, not some stray.” Seraphina’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She turned to me, her tone softening. “Hello. I’m Alaric’s ex-girlfriend, Seraphina.” I gritted my teeth, about to respond. Alaric cut me off. “Rose, go upstairs and get some rest. I’ll handle them.” The smile on Seraphina’s face vanished. “Alaric, even if you hate me, can you please just let us stay for one night?” Her voice became pleading. “It’s too cold outside.” The comments were a blur of text. 【It’s okay, she’ll explain the misunderstanding to him.】 【Hehe, I can’t wait to see him kneeling and barking like a dog once she tames him.】 【But she never came back for him, even after her mom passed away. She seemed to be doing just fine.】 I dropped my gaze and gently tugged on Alaric’s sleeve. “Alaric, maybe… just let them stay for the night.” He glanced at me, hesitating. But I had seen it. The two men had their hands resting on the butts of their holstered guns. If we said no, I was afraid they’d get violent. I didn’t know what Alaric was capable of. How powerful was a Zombie King, really? Could he stop a bullet? I was terrified he’d get hurt. 6 “Fine. You can stay,” Alaric finally said. “But you’re restricted to the living room. No one goes upstairs.” Seraphina nodded. “I’m hungry, Alaric. Can we have something to eat?” I answered for him. “There’s ramen in the kitchen. Help yourselves.” She gave me a small smile, her eyes lingering on my face for a moment. “Thank you. What’s your name?” She gestured to the two men. “These are my friends, Griffin and Flynn.” “Rosalie.” Alaric wrapped an arm around me impatiently. “We’re going upstairs.” He led me towards the staircase. As we rounded the landing, I couldn’t help but glance back. Seraphina was standing right where we left her, staring up at our retreating backs. Her eyes were filled with a sorrow so profound it made my own chest ache. In the bedroom, Alaric moved to sit beside me. I shifted away. He paused, then scooted closer. I moved again. He was about to fall off the edge of the bed when he reached out and pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Rose, are you jealous?” “No,” I said, my voice betraying me. The comments were quick to judge. 【What right does she have to be jealous? How long have they even been together?】 【The heroine and male lead were together since high school. They only broke up after college.】 【A few months can’t compete with years of history.】 The bitterness in my heart intensified. Alaric rested his chin on my shoulder, his voice soft and coaxing. “I can explain. Rose, she is my ex, but there’s nothing between us anymore.” I raised a hand and covered his mouth. “I trust you.” He pressed a kiss into my palm. My face flushed. I tried to pull my hand back, but he held it fast. The air in the room grew thick and heavy. He leaned in, his nose brushing against mine, our breaths mingling. And then…

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The Davenport family, one of the wealthiest in the nation, had an unwritten rule. Any woman who married into the family had to bear a son before she could be officially welcomed with a marriage certificate. I had been engaged to Donovan Davenport for eight years. I had tried everything, but I could never get pregnant. But his young assistant, the one he’d had a one-night stand with, was a different story. She got pregnant before I ever could. The entire Davenport household laughed at my misfortune, my lack of “blessing.” They called me a cursed star, fit only to serve tea in their grand mansion. At the annual ancestral tribute ceremony, they even had her, Isabelle, take my rightful place. Everyone expected me to cry, to throw a tantrum. They thought I would run to Donovan, begging him to defend my honor. But I just quietly packed my bags. Three days ago, I had finally found my real family. He was coming to take me home. And he would make the Davenports pay for everything they owed me, with interest. 1. The Davenport Corporation had raked in billions last year, so this year’s ancestral ceremony was more lavish than ever. The custom-made ceremonial gown alone cost a small fortune. Isabelle, holding the hem of her extravagant dress, looked at me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Victoria, darling, my shoes are a bit dirty. Would you be a dear and clean them for me? I can’t possibly bend over in this gown; it’s far too precious.” She extended a delicate foot towards me. Tied around her ankle was the same red cord Donovan had personally tied for her last night. It was the one I had prayed for years ago at a shrine known for healing miracles. I had cast the sacred lots dozens of times, kneeling for three days and nights, begging for Donovan’s recovery from a severe illness. Now, the man was healthy. But the love was gone. They say the first thing a cripple does when he can walk again is throw away his crutch. Donovan, the man who had once sworn to love me for all eternity, was no exception. I was leaving soon. I didn’t want to cause a scene. I ignored Isabelle’s provocation, set down my teacup, and headed for my room. As I reached the grand doorway, the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, blocked my path. Her face was a mask of ridicule, her voice dripping with contempt. “Miss Thorne, the Davenports have standards. Only the proper lady of the house may use the main entrance. A penniless orphan with no name, a liability like you, will use the side door with the rest of the staff!” Her arrogance was so blatant I couldn’t help but sneer. “Are you really spouting that Dark Age nonsense to my face?” The moment the words left my mouth, Isabelle frowned dramatically. “How dare you! To speak with such disrespect before the Davenport ancestors. Since you clearly have no parents to teach you manners, I, as the future lady of this house, will have to teach you a lesson myself!” With that, she snatched a heavy ceremonial rod from a nearby table and swung it at me. I dodged, ready to fight back, but an arm caught me from behind. It was Donovan. “What is all this commotion on such an important day?” he demanded. “Go back to your rooms and copy the house rules five hundred times. This will not happen again!” He noticed the red mark on my cheek where the rod had grazed me and his grip loosened slightly. “Victoria, I know you feel wronged, but you can’t blame anyone for this,” he said, his voice cold. “You can only blame your own barren womb. If you want to stay with the Davenports, you must follow our rules.” When my parents passed away, they entrusted me to the Davenport family’s care. Shortly after I arrived, a thoughtless maid whispered that I was cursed, that I had brought death upon my own parents and was destined to a life of childless misery. When Donovan found out, he flew into a rage. He fired the maid and declared in front of the entire household, “Victoria is the only woman I will ever love, the future mistress of this house. With me by her side, she won’t have to answer to anyone or follow anyone’s rules. If anyone dares to disrespect her, they’ll have to answer to me!” That was only a few years ago. The earnest young man I knew had vanished, replaced by this cold stranger. Money and power truly could change a person. The Davenport estate was never my home. And Donovan was not the man I could spend my life with. Thank goodness I had already reconnected with my long-lost brother. Soon, I would be going home. Back to the people who truly loved me. 2. Ignoring the intimate scene between them, I returned to my room. As I was packing, I realized I’d left my necklace in the family chapel. When I went back to get it, I heard their voices. Isabelle was lounging in Donovan’s arms, carelessly toying with one of the sacred lots. “Victoria really is an utter fool. All this time and she still hasn’t realized there’s something wrong with the medicine she’s been taking.” Donovan chuckled, taking her delicate hand in his. “It was your idea, and it was brilliant. Swapping her fertility supplements with those safflower and musk pills to ‘regulate her blood flow.’” “I saw her latest medical report,” he continued. “She’s had multiple miscarriages over the years, but they were all so early she never knew. The poor thing just thinks she has irregular periods and chugs that bitter herbal tea every day.” I stood frozen in the doorway, my hand instinctively going to my stomach. My cycles had always been erratic. The bleeding was always accompanied by agonizing cramps and large clots. Donovan had seemed so concerned, taking me to countless doctors. Every single one of them said the same thing: I’d damaged my health as a child, leading to poor circulation. It was the cause of all my problems. They assured me that with medicine and proper care, I would recover and be able to conceive. I believed them. Donovan never showed a hint of disappointment. He stood up to the family elders for me, brewed my medicine, and made me nourishing soups. Whenever the pain hit, he was right there, comforting me. Back then, I thought it was a sign of his love. Only now did I understand. He stayed by my side only to personally confirm that I had miscarried. To watch as those tiny, month-old lives were flushed from my body as a river of blood… A deep, bone-chilling cold washed over me. When Donovan first brought Isabelle to the Davenport estate, he swore to me that it was a drunken mistake, that he had mistaken her for me. He promised that as soon as she gave birth to the child, he would send her away. But it was all a lie. They had been having an affair for years. To ensure Isabelle could become Mrs. Davenport without any obstacles, Donovan was willing to kill his own flesh and blood, over and over again. I bit my lip, struggling to stay calm. Inside the chapel, the two of them were kissing, completely oblivious. Isabelle pulled away, breathless, and slapped him playfully. “You’re terrible. They say you can’t hide fire with paper. Aren’t you afraid Victoria will find out the truth and raise hell? I heard that even though her parents are dead, their old network is still very much active.” Donovan pinched her nose, unconcerned. “What’s there to be afraid of? What trouble can a lone orphan cause? I’ve spent years domesticating her. She wouldn’t survive a day without the Davenports. Besides, I have my ways of breaking that stubborn spirit of hers.” Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. Since I came to live with the Davenports, Donovan had catered to my every whim. He said he felt sorry for me, losing my parents so young, and that he wanted to be my rock. But it was all a lie. That last bastion of affection was a sham. Eight years. Countless days and nights. I had been living inside Donovan’s meticulously crafted lie. An overwhelming agony flooded my mind. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my brother. I couldn’t stand another second in this house. And besides, I was very curious to see just how long Donovan could hold onto his title as the city’s richest man once his connection to me was severed. 3. My brother’s reply was immediate. “Don’t worry, sis. Everything is ready. I’ll pick you up first thing tomorrow morning!” Knowing he was coming eased some of the pain in my heart. I wiped away my tears and locked myself in my room. I don’t know how much time passed before a pair of familiar hands gently wrapped around me from behind. “You silly girl, are you angry?” Donovan whispered. “I didn’t mean to be harsh with you. You know the rumors about you have never stopped. To appease the elders, I have to be strict with you in public. But no matter what, you’ll always be the most important woman in my heart.” His hands began to wander over my body, skillfully unbuttoning my blouse. “There, now. Let’s try one more time. If you can just get pregnant, I can convince those old fossils to let you and Isabelle have equal standing.” Years of deception weren’t enough for him. He still wanted to keep me by his side. A wave of nausea washed over me. Just as I was about to push him away, a frantic knocking came from the door. “Sir! It’s the madam! She’s in terrible pain, and there’s blood! Please, come quickly!” Donovan shot up, threw on a robe, and rushed out of the room. I watched his panicked retreat with a cold, mocking smile. So, when a child he actually cared about was in danger, he could feel anxiety. He could feel fear. It was never the children he despised. It was me. The moonlight spilled into the room, making my face look even more pale and drawn. I didn’t want any part of their drama. I pulled the covers over my head, trying to go back to sleep. But moments later, a group of people burst into my room. They dragged me from my bed and hauled me back to the family chapel. Isabelle was leaning against Donovan, her face deathly pale. The Davenport elders glared at me with pure hatred. “I told you we shouldn’t have kept a cursed star like her around!” one of them shrieked. “First she killed her own parents, and now she’s trying to destroy our family! If anything happens to my grandson, I will not spare her!” Donovan tried to placate them before turning to a white-bearded old man in the room. “Master, they say you are the most renowned spiritual master in Northwood City. Please, can you tell us, is there any way to resolve this?” The old man squinted at me, sighing and shaking his head. “Too much bad karma. She is haunted by the spirits of dead infants. She will not only bring ruin to everyone around her but will also disturb the peace of this house!” Donovan’s father’s brow furrowed. He bowed deeply. “Master, what should we do? We will spare no expense to avert this disaster!” The old man glanced thoughtfully at Isabelle. “There is no easy solution. We must resort to the old ways. She must roll on a bed of nails and walk through fire. Only by shedding her skin can she be cleansed of this malevolent energy!” As if on cue, Isabelle ordered servants to bring in a brazier of hot coals and a wooden bed frame covered in sharp, gleaming nails. I stared at the neatly arranged spikes, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you all insane? This is the 21st century! You can’t possibly believe in this medieval superstition!” I struggled, trying to escape, but Donovan grabbed my arm, holding me fast. “Victoria, don’t be childish. Isabelle is doing this for your own good. If you weren’t carrying such a heavy curse, why would your parents have died so senselessly? Why have we been childless for all these years? The master is the best in the city; he knows what he’s doing. He won’t seriously harm you. Just endure it. Once you pass this trial, you can stay by my side forever.” He stroked my head, his voice a hypnotic, soothing whisper. “Victoria, don’t you want to be with me for the rest of your life?”

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Seven years into our marriage, Elias Thorne’s kept canary finally said she was bored. She packed her bags and ran, leaving behind only one sentence: “Elias, I’ve milked you for enough cash. I don’t want you anymore.” I watched from the sidelines with cold detachment, waiting to see how long Elias could endure it this time. After all, this exact drama had been playing out constantly for the last three years. But this time, he just laughed coldly. “She’s just a pet. Did she really think I cared?” Until, not long after, news broke that she had died in a horrific car crash. The man who was always so cold and unfeeling instantly lost his mind. 1 After Chloe’s death, Elias acted like a man possessed, locking himself in his study without food or water. When I knocked on the door, the only response I got was a muffled, icy, “Get lost.” I knew he was grieving, and for a split second, I almost apologized. But then I stopped myself, realizing how pathetic that was. We weren’t divorced yet. He was the one who cheated and betrayed our marriage. Why should I be the one apologizing? I looked at the cold dinner on the table. The soup I had slow-cooked for five hours had congealed, giving off a faint, unpleasant smell. I threw it all into the trash. Just like our twenty years of history. If I didn’t throw it away now, it would just rot and breed maggots. Disgusting to me, and disgusting to everyone else. On the eighth day, Elias finally walked out of the room. He had cleaned himself up, shaved, and returned to his usual arrogant, untouchable self. But the way he looked at me was darker than ever, as if I was the reason the love of his life was dead. I stared back quietly, waiting for him to speak. I knew a storm was coming. We had known each other since childhood and had been married for seven years. From school uniforms to a wedding dress, I always thought we would walk the same path until the end. But halfway through the journey, someone decided to get out of the car, and it seemed I had no choice but to accept it. “Where is she?” Elias’s voice was dead, devoid of any emotion. After a long silence, I answered softly, “Buried.” Elias’s face instantly darkened, and he glared at me with pure, concentrated hatred. “Scarlett, who gave you permission to bury her?” “Do you think your filthy hands are even worthy of touching her?” He spat the words out through gritted teeth, his eyes vicious. I could feel it—if I wasn’t currently pregnant, he would have lunged forward and strangled me. But I still overestimated my place in his heart. A second later, he shoved me hard onto the sofa. His massive hands clamped down on my throat, squeezing tightly, forcing the last bit of air from my lungs. The room started spinning. My vision went black, and the sounds around me faded into a dull ringing. He sounded completely deranged. “Did you really think being pregnant meant I wouldn’t touch you?” “Do you actually think I care about that bastard child?” “Chloe is dead. Don’t worry, you and that little mutt inside you are next.” The sheer terror of suffocation made me try to scream for help, but his grip was so tight I couldn’t make a sound. I realized then that Elias truly wanted me dead. I don’t know how much time passed before the crushing weight on my chest vanished, followed by the deafening sound of the front door slamming shut. As my consciousness slowly returned, I sat numbly on the sofa. I picked up my phone and booked an appointment at an abortion clinic. 2 Elias and I were childhood friends, and our marriage was a strategic business alliance. Our parents had arranged our engagement when we were three, and we signed our marriage papers before we even graduated college. Our early married life was harmonious and happy. Perhaps due to his upbringing, Elias was unfazed by most things. He never compromised, didn’t know how to love properly, and certainly never said sweet things. But after we got married, he would prepare little surprises for me. On my birthdays, he would bake a cake himself. Then, like a magician, he would pull out a necklace I had been eyeing for months, hugging me tightly. “Scarlett, I’m not heartless. Just give me some time. I’ll figure out how to love you properly.” “Don’t give up on me, okay?” Every time he said that, I would nod vigorously and whisper that we had a lifetime to figure it out. And in the dead of night, lost in the heat of the moment, he would press his lips to my ear and whisper things that made me blush. When did it all change? Probably the day Elias first met Chloe. Because we had stayed up too late the night before, I couldn’t get out of bed the next morning. Elias had to attend a scheduled networking event alone. Chloe was the assistant of the client he was meeting. She was fresh out of college, radiating a nervous, timid energy. When she smiled shyly, she looked harmless and adorable. She didn’t know how to play golf, so she boldly asked Elias to teach her. They exchanged numbers, and from their first meeting to making things official, it took less than two weeks. Chloe quit her job and jumped ship to his company. Elias kept her close, teaching her every aspect of the business, meticulously cultivating her like a rose about to bloom. The pathetic part was, I never even got the chance to confront Chloe face-to-face. Elias hid her incredibly well. I tried to investigate, but found absolutely nothing. Worse, trying to dig into her only triggered his wrath. Once, I paid a fortune and finally got ahold of Chloe’s personal background file. Before I could even do anything with it, a massive dossier detailing my own father’s secret mistresses was placed on my desk. And it wasn’t just my dad—almost every dark secret and privacy violation of my entire extended family was in that file. Elias’s warning was crystal clear: if I targeted Chloe, my family’s scandals would be leaked to the press immediately. That night, I smashed every single vase, plate, and lamp in the mansion right in front of him. Elias just sat quietly on the sofa, watching me destroy the place without a care in the world. He looked at me like I was insane. The irony was… Now, he was the one who had gone completely insane. 3 That same night, just as I fell asleep, his executive assistant called me. “Ms. Sterling, Mr. Thorne is digging up the Madam’s grave. Please, you have to come stop him.” I let out a bitter laugh. I was Elias’s legal wife, the one he actually married, yet everyone called Chloe “Madam” and referred to me simply as “Ms. Sterling.” Ever since I decided to divorce him and stood him up at the lawyer’s office, Elias had publicly declared on his official corporate social media account: Chloe is the only wife I will ever have in this lifetime. After that day, I became the biggest laughingstock in New York high society. I touched my throat, the bruises still throbbing with dull pain. “If he’s losing his mind, call his parents. Don’t call me. It has nothing to do with me.” With that, I hung up. I never expected Elias to actually resort to grave robbing. Ever since he got together with Chloe, we talked about divorce more often than we ate dinner. But it never went through. Either I refused, or Chloe would call him away with some emergency excuse right as we were about to sign. The closest we got was two months ago. Elias offered me half his net worth in exchange for a divorce. I agreed. But the day before we were supposed to sign the final papers, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t show up. Elias blew up my phone that day, and that was the exact same day Chloe packed her bags and left. When Elias’s grandfather found out, he came over and talked to Elias all night. Elias defied everyone else, but he deeply respected and obeyed his grandfather. The next day, Elias recalled all the men he had sent out to find Chloe. He stopped tearing the world apart looking for her. We didn’t speak a single word to each other after that, and neither of us brought up the divorce again. At the time, I thought that even if he didn’t care about me, he at least cared about the baby. Looking back, trying to use a child to tie down a man was the most pathetic thing I had ever done. The next morning, I went to the clinic and had the abortion. I wasn’t a saint, and I had no desire to be a single mother. I could live without being loved, but any child of mine deserved to be born into a stable, healthy family. The procedure was quick, and I was discharged and back home by the afternoon. Now that the baby was gone, getting a divorce was just a matter of signing a piece of paper. Elias hadn’t shown his face once during this entire time. But then again, he was busy scouring the globe for his little mistress. He absolutely refused to believe Chloe was actually dead. 4 After seven years of marriage, I didn’t have too many personal belongings, but it wasn’t a small amount either. I hired some workers to set up an incinerator bin in the courtyard. Anything that could burn, I burned. Anything that couldn’t—like the jewelry—I sold. I didn’t want to take a single item from this mansion, nor did I want to leave a single trace of my existence behind. So I just burned it all. When Elias finally returned, he caught me right as I tossed our massive wedding portrait into the fire. I was a little surprised to see him. He had been MIA for over a month; I thought he might have actually gone and killed himself to be with her. Through the thick smoke, his eyes were freezing cold. He looked at me like I was a corpse. He was holding a wooden urn against his chest. As he walked past me, he suddenly shoved me hard. If the butler hadn’t reacted quickly and caught me, I would have fallen face-first into the incinerator. I would have been permanently disfigured. A chilling realization shot up my spine. Elias had completely lost his mind. He was trying to brutally disfigure me as revenge. Elias clicked his tongue, sounding genuinely disappointed. “Clean this mess up.” With that, he turned and headed for the stairs. A surge of white-hot rage erupted from my chest. He kept a mistress—I endured it. He threatened my family—I endured it. Chloe’s endless provocations—I endured it. The time he forced himself on me while drunk, resulting in my pregnancy—I endured it. I endured, and endured, and endured for three whole years. And now he was openly trying to kill me? I was done enduring. If this is how it’s going to be, let it all burn. I sprinted after him, grabbed his arm, spun him around, and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength I had. His head snapped to the side from the impact. He slowly turned back, glaring at me with dead, icy eyes. Looking at the bright red handprint forming on Elias’s cheek, I instantly felt a massive wave of satisfaction. “Tomorrow morning at 9 AM. We’re getting divorced.” “Chloe’s death has absolutely nothing to do with me. Stop trying to pin your tragedies on me. You know exactly how I got pregnant, and the only reason I didn’t show up to sign the papers that day was because your mother dragged me to the family estate.” “And your little mistress was buried because your mother explicitly ordered it. Because she couldn’t stand watching her son act like a pathetic, deranged ghoul. So stop blaming everyone else for your own miserable life.” Elias didn’t react to my explanation at all. I didn’t care if he believed me or not. It had nothing to do with me anymore. I had made myself perfectly clear. As I walked out of the Thorne family mansion, I carefully recalled the question Elias had asked me months ago. “Have you ever experienced the agony of watching the person you love die?” The person I love? Hah! How did I answer him back then? Oh, right. I remember now. I said, “Elias, as far as my heart is concerned, you died a long time ago.” When two people are deeply in love, they are completely blind to anyone else. In the past, I was so blind I couldn’t see Chloe. Now, Elias was so blind he couldn’t see me. 5 “After all these years, are you really just going to walk away?” Carter was a mutual friend of mine and Elias. Throughout this tortuous three-year love triangle, he had been my sole source of information regarding Chloe. Walk away? After seven years of love, hate, and obsession, it would be a lie to say I never fantasized about him changing his ways. But when Chloe died, I finally understood. In a love triangle, whoever ends up being the “backup option” has already lost. I chuckled softly, tapping the ash off my cigarette. Ever since I found out about Chloe, I had picked up smoking. I hated alcohol. I was terrified of doing something I’d regret while drunk, so I smoked to release the stress. It was my only way to momentarily soothe my completely numb heart. Seeing me stay silent, he continued: “Chloe is dead. Since you already put up with him for three years, why not just wait a little longer? He’ll come back to you eventually.” “Plus, you’re pregnant. Even if Elias agreed to the divorce, the Thorne family would never allow it.” “I don’t need their permission.” I hadn’t told anyone about the abortion yet. Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, Carter grew visibly agitated. He cursed at me in frustration: “Are you an idiot? For all we know, Chloe might not even be dead.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” He stayed silent for a long moment, then gritted his teeth and spilled the whole story. Chloe wasn’t dead! That was a plot twist I genuinely didn’t see coming. Chloe had thrown a tantrum, run away, and gotten into a car crash. To force Elias to move on and live a normal life with me—especially since I was pregnant—his grandfather had declared her dead and hid her away in a remote facility so Elias would give up. But no one expected his grandson to go so utterly insane that he would literally dig up graves in the middle of the night. Elias’s mother couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t just sit back and watch her son grieve himself to death. So, she finally caved. They had just brought Chloe back. Carter sighed, still trying to convince me: “It really doesn’t need to end in divorce, Scarlett. I can tell he still cares about you deep down.” “Now that the truth is out, just focus on having the baby safely. With your family and the Thornes backing you, no matter how much Chloe jumps around, she’ll never be able to step over you.” “And then what?” I crushed the cigarette stub into the ashtray, my voice flat. I pretty much understood the whole picture now. He froze. Seeing my expression remain completely indifferent, he swallowed whatever else he was going to say. I didn’t wait for him, continuing calmly: “And then what? I just keep enduring them like before? Watching Chloe occasionally pop up in my face to assert dominance, while they continue their little ‘runaway bride’ roleplay?” “And when I have the baby, my child has to grow up watching this twisted dynamic?” “And the next time Chloe gets bored and decides to fake her death again, my baby and I will probably be forced to join her in the grave to appease his grief, right?” I suddenly found it all incredibly hilarious. I remembered how, not long ago, he had his hands around my throat, calling my unborn baby a mutt. And then he turned around and dug up graves for Chloe. He was willing to take thirty lashes from his grandfather’s cane just for a shred of news about her. But when he came home, he intentionally tried to shove me into an incinerator. Having grown up with him, I knew exactly how rotten Elias’s core truly was. The most ironic part? By the time he pushed me toward that fire, he already knew Chloe was alive. And yet, he still wanted to destroy me. After all these years of entanglement, it boiled down to one simple truth. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to love. It was just that he didn’t love me anymore. 6 Elias didn’t show up on the day we were supposed to finalize the divorce. I didn’t bother calling him. I knew exactly where he was—at the hospital, by Chloe’s side. She hadn’t died, but she had suffered multiple fractures and temporary blindness. The two of them were experiencing a dramatic, tearful reunion. He probably couldn’t bear to leave her side for a single second. Elias had even flown in the top medical specialists from Europe for her. Such “profound” love. I laughed bitterly. Since we had a prenup anyway, I just contacted my lawyer and filed the papers through the courts. There was no other reason—it was simply the fastest way. I bought a random plane ticket down south. I changed my phone number and permanently deleted all my social media accounts. Sitting on the plane, I stared out at the layers of white clouds passing by the window. In a daze, my mind drifted back to when Elias and I were kids. Our families were old money and deeply connected. Our parents got along so well they literally bought houses next door to each other. But my parents loved to party and travel the world—separately. I didn’t understand it back then. I naively asked Elias about it. “Why don’t your parents and my parents ever play together?” “Do they not like each other?” I was seven. Elias was eleven, but he was already acting like a miniature adult. He kept a straight face, thought about it for a long time, and then handed me a piece of candy. “From now on, I’ll only play with you.” I didn’t fully grasp what that meant back then. Which led to my brain short-circuiting years later, when we were older, and I ended up asking him a similar question again. By then, he had graduated college and officially taken over his family’s empire. He was so busy he barely had time to eat. It was the week before my sophomore year of college started. He came home incredibly late that night because of work. We had barely seen each other the entire summer. That night, like an idiot, I asked him that question again. Except this time, he didn’t give me candy. I remember it vividly. He took off his suit jacket, cupped my face with both hands, and his eyes surged with an intense, raw emotion I couldn’t read. Because he had been drinking at a business dinner, the moment he leaned in, I smelled the sharp tang of alcohol mixed with a faint trace of tobacco. I tried to step back, but he locked me in his arms, rendering me completely immobile. His lips brushed against my ear, whispering words that made my face burn. “Tonight, it’s just the two of us playing.” My brain stalled. Before I could even process what he meant, his lips crashed down on mine, kissing me fiercely. The cool September night breeze should have calmed me down, but the flowers in my heart were already quietly blooming. The intercom announcement on the plane woke me up. I opened my eyes in a daze, realizing I had fallen asleep. I couldn’t remember the last time I dreamed about our childhood. As I stepped off the plane, I recalled what happened after that night. Elias and I made our relationship official that very evening. We completely skipped the dating phase. Because the very next afternoon, he drove me straight to City Hall and we signed the marriage license. Then, we casually informed our parents. I complained that he was way too domineering and didn’t even give me time to mentally prepare. He just said, “I needed to lock you down early so I wouldn’t have to worry. We have the rest of our lives to date.” “Scarlett, the second you graduate, we’re having a massive wedding.” Back then, my eyes and my heart were completely overflowing with happiness. But I forgot that every process has its natural order for a reason. Because we skipped the dating phase… Someone else eventually stepped in to fill that void. 7 After getting off the plane. I was too lazy to run, too tired to plan. I just found a random luxury hotel, checked in, and slept until the world went dark. I was usually a light sleeper in new places, but surprisingly, I slept like the dead. I felt like I had been sleeping for an eternity. In my hazy semi-consciousness, I heard my phone ringing endlessly. I didn’t answer it. I just let it ring. Until the battery finally died, and I sank back into a deep slumber. When I opened my eyes again, four days had passed. While I felt well-rested, a lingering sense of dread washed over me. If I had died in this hotel room, no one would have known. My phone was flooded with missed calls and texts. I scrolled through them casually, replying to a few people I actually liked. I also called both my parents back. They had stopped living together years ago, but refused to officially divorce. It wasn’t for my sake. The main reason was that the people they dated on the side didn’t care about a title; they just wanted a good time. And my parents found the legal paperwork tedious. They figured life is short anyway, and when they die, they’ll just be buried in the same family mausoleum. Other than their playboy lifestyles… they were actually decent parents. In the past, I thought I could accept a marriage like theirs. After all, it just meant the love faded, right? At least there was mutual respect. You just close your eyes and get through it. But later, I realized the only reason my parents could maintain that kind of marriage was because there was absolutely no love between them to begin with. Naturally, they didn’t care what the other person did. But Elias and I? We had loved each other. We both knew exactly what it looked like when the other person was in love. That was why I couldn’t accept a hollow marriage. And that was why he couldn’t accept Chloe’s “death.” After hanging up with my parents, I received two massive wire transfers. Undeniably, even though they didn’t love each other, they had always done their best to love me. Among the missed calls, Elias had tried to reach me too. I didn’t call back. I chose to pretend I didn’t see it. We were divorced. There was nothing left to untangle. After lounging in the hotel for a few more days, it suddenly hit me—I had nowhere to go. I should thank the universe for letting me reincarnate into a wealthy family. Thanks to my parents’ money and Elias’s protection, I grew up experiencing things most people couldn’t even dream of. Before getting married, whenever I had a break from school, I would drag my friends on wild trips all over the world. The vast deserts out west, chasing the Northern Lights in Scandinavia—romantic, childish adventures. Sleeping in tents in the wilderness, staring up at the sparse stars hidden behind the clouds. Back then, I was fearless. I dreamed big, chased hard, and did whatever I wanted the second the thought crossed my mind. But after marriage, my only job was to be the perfect “Mrs. Thorne” who never embarrassed Elias. Now, I was finally free.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391979”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During my heaviest, most innocent year of high school, I accidentally sat on the school bully and made him cry. The harder he cried, the more pumped up I got. I threw a leg over him, pinned him down, and wiggled around a few times. It felt a bit… lumpy. After that day, whenever he saw me, he ran away so fast he practically left a dust trail. Three years later, at our high school reunion, my classmates joked: “Chloe is so skinny now, she could never make Liam cry by sitting on him again.” Liam shifted forward in his seat and casually crossed his legs. My entire body flushed hot, my face turning red all the way down to my neck. 1 I had completely forgotten what Liam looked like. For the entirety of high school, he ran away the second he saw me. And he ran fast. So fast that my memory of his face was totally blurry. At the start of freshman year, my desk mate warned me about him. Liam was the grandson of the richest man in the city. He was a menace who did whatever he wanted. She told me if I saw him walking down the hall, I needed to take a detour. My mom had also told me that going to a city high school meant I needed to be humble and absolutely avoid offending anyone. I memorized that advice by heart. One day, I saw him cornered on the far side of the sports field. It was one against five. Five upperclassmen had him surrounded. He saw me from a distance and yelled: “Chloe Foster!” I squinted, taking a few steps forward. Once I realized it was him, I turned right around and walked away without looking back. Seconds later, I heard his agonizing screams. When I got back to the classroom, I felt a twinge of guilt. What if they seriously hurt him? So, I told the whole class, and then I told our homeroom teacher. By the time the teacher led the whole class out to find him, his uniform was torn, one side of his face was swollen like a balloon, and he had a black eye like a panda. It was the first time I had ever seen him up close. The girls who obsessed over him always said Liam was tall, incredibly handsome, and had deep, striking features. But right then, he looked like the guy who collected scrap metal in my home village. I couldn’t help it. I let out a small laugh. He locked eyes with me. He struggled to stand up, hissed in pain, pointed a finger at me, and said, “You just wait.” Our homeroom teacher swiftly kicked him in the butt, making him yelp in pain. The next evening, right after I walked out of the cafeteria, Liam and his lackeys blocked my path. I quickly hid the fried chicken drumstick I was holding behind my back and swallowed hard. I had just gone in for the first bite, but hadn’t even torn a piece off yet. If the chicken got cold, it wouldn’t taste good anymore. Because of that, I completely forgot my desk mate’s warning and my mom’s advice. I was incredibly annoyed. “What is your problem? Are you mad because I didn’t help you fight? If I helped you win, wouldn’t that just be more embarrassing for you?” The lackeys behind him looked down, clearly embarrassed that I had hit the nail on the head. Liam puffed out his chest and yelled, “Fatty Chloe! You’re built like a pig and you’re still eating fried chicken!” Was that it? So childish. I shoved past him to keep walking, but he grabbed my arm. I yanked my arm away, and the chicken drumstick slipped from my fingers, landing straight on the dirt. It was fine. I could just wash it off, peel off the fried batter, and the meat inside would still be good. But Liam lifted his sneaker, stepped directly onto my chicken, and twisted his ankle to grind it into the dirt. My gaze slowly traveled up from my ruined dinner and locked onto his face. Anger erupted inside me like a volcano. I let out a feral roar and tackled him to the ground. He had one arm in a cast from yesterday, and his other arm was completely useless against my sheer mass. I landed squarely on top of him, sitting heavily on his stomach. “Give me back my chicken! Give it back! I only get to eat a chicken drumstick once a year! Waaah…” Liam’s face turned beet red, and two streams of tears rolled out of the corners of his eyes. A crowd started to form. Someone yelled, “Go get a teacher!” Hearing that, his lackeys scrambled and ran for their lives. The harder Liam cried, the more pumped up I got. I threw a leg over him, straddling his waist, and wiggled around a few times. Just like he did to my chicken drumstick. For some reason, though, it felt… lumpy. Eventually, my classmates pulled me off him. I mourned that chicken drumstick for an entire month. I was so fueled by grief and rage that I studied like a maniac, ranked first in the grade on the midterms, and only then finally stepped out of my depression. 2 From that day on, the moment Liam saw me, he would bolt in the opposite direction. Liam didn’t get into our high school the normal way. His mom was on the board of directors. Rumor had it his middle school grades were so bad he couldn’t even qualify for the worst high school in the city. As a kid who had been on the poverty-assistance list her entire life, I despised people like him. Especially since he murdered my chicken. But I couldn’t actually do anything to him. In fact, I was terrified of him. I was terrified he would go crying to his mom and get my financial aid revoked. Or that they would find some random excuse to expel me. For an entire semester, I sat in class just waiting for the homeroom teacher to tell me to pack my bags. Every night, I had nightmares about being chased by a rabid dog. The dog would finally catch me, bare its fangs, let out an evil laugh, and its face would morph into Liam’s. It wasn’t until finals were over that our homeroom teacher announced he had news. Sitting in the stuffy, heated classroom, a cold sweat broke out down my spine. I was already trying to figure out how to explain my expulsion to my mom. At worst, I would just go work in the coal mines with her. The teacher calling my name snapped me back to reality. “Chloe Foster. For ranking first in the grade, you are the recipient of the school’s newly established merit scholarship. The prize is $1,200.” That wasn’t just a scholarship. It was life-saving money. Not only did I have enough for living expenses, but my mom wouldn’t have to risk black lung disease working in the mines just to scrape together an extra hundred bucks a month. The teacher then praised Liam. His rank had jumped from dead last to right in the middle of the pack. My desk mate gossiped that Liam had a crush on the most popular girl in our grade, Mia. Mia consistently ranked in the top ten and had publicly stated she would never date a guy with worse grades than her. Liam’s desk was piled high with New Year’s greeting cards from various girls. He shoved them all carelessly into his desk drawer. Except for the one from Mia. He carefully tucked that one into his backpack. After that, he totally chilled out. No more bullying, no more trouble. Whenever we bumped into each other, I didn’t have to hide, and he stopped calling me “Fatty.” Well, actually. He didn’t even look at me anymore. By the time we graduated senior year, he had become the cold, untouchable heartthrob the underclassmen obsessed over. He rejected countless confessions, all to wait for Mia to say yes. After graduation, my only interaction with him happened when I went to pick up my diploma. The homeroom teacher told me Liam’s mom had a message for me. “Thank the pretty, chubby girl in your class. Tell her that sitting on Liam finally knocked some sense into him.” I scratched my head and laughed. His mom was pretty funny. When I turned around, Liam was standing right in the doorway of the faculty office. We made eye contact. He immediately looked away, and I dropped my gaze. We brushed past each other, and I never saw him again. 3 I honestly hadn’t planned on attending this high school reunion. I was heading into my senior year of college, juggling part-time jobs and desperately searching for internships. I was way too busy. My old desk mate convinced me: “You have to come! Networking is everything. “Plus, Liam is the one hosting and paying for the whole thing. “You remember Liam, right? The guy you sat on until he cried.” I rubbed my temples and cut her off. “Can we please never bring that up again? Fine, I’ll go, I’ll go.” Standing in a quiet corner of the library, I held the phone to my ear, my face burning. It took me a few years to finally understand why it had felt so lumpy that day. On the day of the reunion, to prove how little I cared, I didn’t wear any makeup. I purposely wore a faded, washed-out tracksuit and carried a cheap canvas tote bag from a local grocery store. When I arrived, I was, without a doubt, the most underdressed person there. In stark contrast, Liam’s nearly six-foot-three frame stood out instantly in the crowd. He had broad shoulders and a lean waist. He wore a crisp white dress shirt with the top two buttons casually undone. It made me think of that chicken drumstick, and I subconsciously swallowed hard. The moment I walked in, my old desk mate dragged me right up to Liam. “Boss Liam! Do you remember Chloe?!” A wave of good-natured laughter rippled through the group. “Chloe is so skinny now, she could never make Liam cry by sitting on him again.” Hearing that, Liam’s expression faltered slightly. He shifted forward in his seat and casually crossed his legs. My entire body flushed hot, my face turning red all the way down to my neck. I frantically fanned myself with my hands. “It’s so hot in here. I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” “If you’re hot, just take your jacket off!” My desk mate, moving with lethal speed, grabbed the zipper of my tracksuit jacket and yanked it down. I had bought this jacket before I lost the weight, so it hung on my current frame like a massive potato sack. With one pull, the oversized jacket slid effortlessly off my shoulders. Underneath, I was only wearing a tight, thin camisole. And I was standing directly in front of Liam. He lowered his gaze, taking in the full, unobstructed view of my chest. I panicked and scrambled to pull the jacket back up over my shoulders. My desk mate wouldn’t stop yelling. “Damn! You lost all that weight but kept the curves right where it counts! “Honestly, if you sat on a guy now, you’d still make him cry, just for a totally different reason.” While aggressively adjusting my collar, I sneaked a glance at Liam. The tips of his ears were bright red. 4 It wasn’t until Liam gave a speech that we realized he had an ulterior motive for the reunion. “I’ve started a tech company here in the city, and we’re currently aggressively expanding our team. “The pay is highly competitive, and we offer housing and meal stipends. If anyone is interested, please send me your resume.” My desk mate nudged my ribs. She handed me her phone, showing the recruitment page for Liam’s company. “Doesn’t this align perfectly with your major?” I hesitated. I never wanted to cross paths with Liam again. I had never told anyone, but I had actually seen him at the gay bar where I worked part-time during college. I wasn’t judging, but thinking about him just made me feel a little… weird. But I desperately wanted to move back to my hometown. My mom had felt bad that I was working so many part-time jobs to pay for school, so she secretly went back to work in the coal mines and ended up contracting black lung. I wanted to move back to take care of her and keep a close eye on her. But our hometown was a traditional industrial city. Startups in emerging tech fields could be counted on one hand. And they were usually underfunded branch offices with terrible pay. The salary listed on Liam’s recruitment page made my heart skip a beat. That night, I tossed and turned, and the dreams started again. In my dream, a massive white dog bounded toward me, wagging its tail, and tackled me to the ground. It licked my face until I couldn’t stop laughing. Then the big dog looked up, and its face morphed into Liam. I woke up covered in a cold sweat. He was literally haunting me. Suddenly, my phone rang with an unknown number. “Ms. Foster, this is Stardust Tech. We’d like to invite you for an interview next week.” It was Liam’s company. But I hadn’t even submitted a resume. Right then, a text popped up from my mom’s attending physician, saying they were scheduling her surgery for next week. I said “Okay” into the phone. Since I was moving back anyway, I might as well go see what it was about. Liam wasn’t there on the day of the interview. I had a great conversation with the Chief Technology Officer. I didn’t even have to do a probationary internship; they offered me a full-time position on the spot. And my starting salary wouldn’t be docked during the trial period. I knew I was a great candidate. I just didn’t realize I was that great. It would be rude to decline an offer this good. But because my mom’s surgery got rescheduled, I had to push my start date back by a day. Bright and early on my first day, I ran straight into Liam in the elevator. I stood at attention and respectfully said, “Good morning, Boss.” His Adam’s apple bobbed twice, but he didn’t say a word. Ding. The elevator arrived at our floor. The doors had barely opened a crack when I lifted my foot to step out. Through the gap, I saw a pair of long, flawless legs waiting outside. The doors slid fully open. It was Mia. She completely ignored me and threw herself directly into Liam’s arms. “Liam! During the meeting yesterday, didn’t you say you weren’t coming into the office today?” “Something came up.” I stepped out of the elevator and looked back. Liam was holding his arms up, letting Mia hang off his neck, smiling at her with pure indulgence. 5 The second I sat down at my desk, my manager called me into his office. “Mr. Vance’s executive assistant hasn’t started yet. You have a great academic background; I need you to go up and cover the desk for a while.” “I don’t know if that’s a good idea—” “What I mean is, won’t Mia mind?” “Mia—? Oh, you mean the Boss’s wife. Why would she mind? “Mr. Vance gave you a fantastic compensation package. Be smart and play along.” Boss’s wife. Makes sense. But my chest felt inexplicably tight. My chair hadn’t even gotten warm yet. I grumbled under my breath as I packed up my things and headed upstairs. Right outside Liam’s massive office was the secretary’s desk. Since I was already here, I figured I should go in and say hi to the boss. I pushed the door open. He was facing the door and jumped slightly when I walked in. He frowned and asked why I didn’t knock. Behind him, Mia was bent over his desk, facing away from me, leaning her weight on her elbows. That position… My face instantly flushed crimson. “Sorry to interrupt!” I scrambled backward and quickly shut the door. A few seconds later, Mia walked out, giving me an amused, knowing look. She took two steps, rubbed her lower back, and let out a soft, breathy sigh. From inside, Liam called out, “Come in.” It made me jump. He was leaning back in his office chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. “I was too loud just now. Don’t take it personally.” My mom always said, If someone respects you an inch, respect them a mile. I cleared my throat. “Not at all, Boss. You’re too polite. You can yell at me or hit me whenever you want.” He looked up, suppressing a smile at the corner of his lips. “I can hit you?” “Sure.” His lips parted slightly, a smirk playing on his face. “A girl like you should really protect herself better.” “I’m great at protecting myself! You should protect yourself. Have you forgotten the time we fought and I—” Why do I never have a filter? He closed his eyes and waved a hand dismissively. “Get out.” Back at the secretary’s desk, I buried my head in paperwork. Liam suddenly opened his door and tossed a uniform onto my desk. “Change into this. You’re coming on a business trip with me.” Fine. I’ll change. A crisp white blouse, a tailored blazer, a tight pencil skirt, and black pantyhose. My body proportions—specifically the ratio between my chest and my waist—were ridiculous, making it almost impossible to buy clothes off the rack. But this uniform fit me like it was custom-tailored. I looked at myself in the restroom mirror and gave myself a very serious, professional salute. Walking out of the restroom, I bumped right into Liam. He seriously must have a medical condition. His ears were always bright red. 6 It was my first time on an airplane, and we were flying First Class. I asked Liam: “Next time, could you book me in Economy and just wire me the price difference in cash?” He turned away, completely ignoring me. The plane suddenly hit intense turbulence, and I shrieked. Before the sound even left my throat, I found myself pulled tightly into his arms. His Adam’s apple brushed against my ear as he swallowed, his voice dropping from above me. “Coward.” I looked up and met his gaze. His eyes were dark and hazy. He slowly lowered his head, and it looked like he was about to kiss me. I swallowed hard and squeaked out, “I have boundaries, you know.” He immediately let go, sat back in his seat, and turned his face away. My heart was pounding out of my chest, my palms completely sweaty. He didn’t look at me again for the rest of the flight. I had no choice. He was the boss, and I was terrified of getting fired. I carried his luggage and told him jokes to lighten the mood. I also dropped some heavy-handed hints. “Mia is so beautiful. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone prettier, don’t you think? “Whoever marries Mia is the luckiest guy in the world. Anyone who doesn’t appreciate her deserves to be impotent for life.” A visible crack finally appeared in his stoic expression. He gave me a very strange look. “You really like her?” “Yeah, I do!” “Is that why you worked at that… place?” “What place?” “Mr. Vance!” The client’s representative shouted, interrupting our conversation. A guy ran over holding a pickup sign. He had sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, easily as handsome as Liam. “I’m Carter. I also graduated from City High. “Technically, that makes me your upperclassman.” I smiled sweetly. “Hi, Senior Carter!” Liam glared at me. I pouted internally. He was the client! If Liam kept acting like an arrogant jerk, how were we supposed to close the deal? This rich kid clearly had zero networking skills. I continued turning the charm on for Carter. “Senior, your company is notoriously hard to get into. You must be incredibly smart. “We’re so honored to be here. Next time you visit our city, I’ll bring you some local specialties!” Liam’s face grew darker and darker. Did he just not want to do business? 7 The dinner banquet was a success. Everything went smoothly. Back at the hotel, I got a text from Liam. Just three dry words: [Come to my room.] The almost-kiss on the airplane replayed in slow motion in my head. And now he wanted me in his room at night. What a dog. I wasn’t going. [Come over. I’ll give you the cash difference for your flight next time.] Oh. I thought about it, went into the bathroom, and layered two thick, terrycloth hotel bathrobes over my clothes. Then, I put my winter coat over the bathrobes. I looked like a massive, shapeless dumpling. There was no way this look would give anyone the wrong idea. I raised my hand to knock on his door, but it swung open before I even touched it. He leaned against the doorframe, looking me up and down in absolute bewilderment. I quickly covered my nose. “Achoo! “I think I caught a cold. I’m freezing.” He stepped aside to let me in. I hugged my arms and sat stiffly on the sofa. He tinkered around in the kitchenette for a few minutes. He walked over and handed me a steaming mug of ginger and brown sugar tea. “Drink this first. Room service is bringing up some cold medicine soon.” Staring at the piping hot tea, I realized I was already sweating bullets under all my layers. I dutifully took the mug and pretended to take a tiny sip. I was boiling. Liam frowned, staring right at me. “Drink the whole thing.” His tone was gentle but left no room for negotiation. I tipped my head back and chugged the entire mug. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Remembering why I was actually here, I asked, “Why did you call me over?” He lowered his eyes. “Today on the plane, I was entirely out of line. I shouldn’t have…” “It’s fine! Let’s just always remember: you’re the boss, and I’m the subordinate.” I raised three fingers in a solemn vow. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. Besides a promotion and a raise, I don’t want anything else from you.” He pressed his lips together so hard they turned white. His eyes were filled with deep frustration. Ha. The dog feels guilty, I thought. I stood up. “Well, I’m gonna go. Senior Carter asked me if I wanted to go grab some late-night barbecue. Want to come?” “I thought you were sick?” “I— Well, that ginger tea was amazing! I feel basically 100% better. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll just go by myself.” I took one step toward the door. His long arm shot out, grabbing me by the collar. He shoved me firmly into the desk chair and slammed a laptop down in front of me. “Since you’re feeling better, stay here and draft the project proposal.” 8 Yeah, right. Like anyone was going to believe I spent the entire night in my boss’s hotel room just writing a business proposal. Being a principled, hardworking employee requires so many sacrifices. The good news was, the company booked me an Economy ticket for the flight back. Thank god. Sitting next to the boss was way too stressful. I had just sat down when a familiar figure loomed over the seat next to me. He struggled for a minute before finally squeezing his massive frame into the tiny Economy seat. “The assistant booked the wrong ticket.” Liam looked furious enough to dismantle the plane with his bare hands. I tried to console him. “You can ask the flight attendant if there are any open seats in First Class. You can just pay the upgrade fee.” Before I could even finish my sentence, his head tilted to the side, his eyes closed, and he started softly snoring. His head was practically resting on my shoulder. I sat up completely straight, folded a blanket, and wedged it onto my shoulder to properly support his chin. I don’t know when, but I eventually fell asleep too. When I woke up, he was slouched deep in his seat, casually flipping through an inflight magazine. I was leaning entirely on his shoulder. And I had drooled a massive wet spot onto his designer shirt… The second we got off the plane, he started walking incredibly fast. I chased after him, begging. “Please take the shirt off! I’ll take it home, wash it, and bring it back to you! “I am so, so sorry. I normally never do that! “It’s all your fault anyway. You kept me up all night and made me so exhausted!” He stopped dead in his tracks. I couldn’t brake in time, slid several feet past him, and had to jog back. The corners of his mouth turned down, his lips pressed into a tight line. It took him several seconds to speak. “If you get exhausted this easily, how are we going to manage in the future?” Help. I’d only been working here for a few days. How could I complain to the boss about being tired already? “I’m not tired! I used to work three part-time jobs in college! I have crazy stamina!” He nodded slowly, then resumed his fast-paced walk. His voice floated back to me, lingering in the air. “Good to know you have crazy stamina.” 9 After the business trip, I took half a day off to be at the hospital for my mom’s surgery. While walking past the Urology and Men’s Health clinic, I glanced through a cracked door and saw a very familiar figure. Weird. I took a few steps back and stood near the door, pretending to read a medical brochure while eavesdropping. “Men have too much pride. He’d rather die than come see a doctor. My parents are worried sick.” “Are you saying the trauma might have been caused by that girl sitting on him years ago?” “It’s impossible to hold her legally accountable now, there’s no proof. “But I’ll figure out a way to drag him in for an exam. Thank you so much, Doctor.” Hearing the screech of a chair sliding back, I sprinted away as fast as I could. Mia meant that Liam had… issues. Down there. And he had issues because I crushed his equipment in high school. Back then, I was 5’5″ and weighed a solid 160 pounds. I suddenly remembered the tears streaming down his face and how red he turned… “What are you doing here?” The sudden voice scared the living daylights out of me. “What are you doing here?!” I looked up. Liam and I were staring at each other, wide-eyed. “I’m picking up meds for my mom.” “I’m looking for someone.” We spoke at the exact same time. I clutched my chest, turned around, and bolted, yelling over my shoulder: “Okay, you go do your thing! I gotta go, my mom is waiting!” If he was single, the worst-case scenario was that I’d just close my eyes and take responsibility for ruining him. But he was married. When Mia was talking to the doctor, she only sounded worried. There wasn’t an ounce of disgust in her voice. She was a good woman. But she also said she wanted to hold the culprit accountable. Liam hired me. He put me in his office. He even pretended to flirt with me. Was he just waiting for me to admit it so he could gather evidence and destroy my life?! It made sense. I had destroyed his, after all. My brain was a chaotic mess, my body felt light and numb. I had no idea how I managed to walk back to my mom’s hospital room. As I walked past the office of my mom’s lead surgeon, I saw Liam walking out of it. I quickly went inside to ask the doctor what was going on. “Your boss is taking great care of you. To ensure your mother’s surgery went smoothly, he called me yesterday, and came in person today to check on things.” When I walked out of the office, my legs felt like jelly. Was he… trying to use my mom to threaten me? 10 After the surgery, I settled my mom into a hotel right next to the hospital. Public places have security cameras everywhere. It was much safer. As I walked out of the hotel, I saw two familiar figures walking into the lobby of the five-star luxury hotel across the street. The man’s hand was resting intimately on the woman’s waist. “If he can’t even get it up, why is he booking hotel rooms? Kinky.” I grumbled to myself, resting my chin in my hand as I sat back at my desk in the office. “What are you mumbling about?” “Oh! Boss, you’re back?” I was so deep in thought I didn’t even hear Liam approach. I glanced at the time on my phone. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since I saw them walk into that hotel. “Wow, you’re pretty fast.” “What’s fast?” “You! You’re fast.” “I’m not as good as I used to be. My hand speed was way better when I was younger.” He stretched his arms, popped his knuckles, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to take a nap in my office. No one is allowed in.” “Got it.” The second his door closed, the company group chat exploded. [I didn’t know Boss was a gamer!] [He sucks but still loves to play, and then makes excuses about how his hand speed used to be better. Lol.] [He’s actually super down-to-earth. On his last trip, he told me to book him in Economy.] I was so confused. My brain couldn’t process the information fast enough. The Economy ticket wasn’t a mistake? He just wanted to sit with me? And he was just talking about playing video games? Then what was he doing with Mia… I pushed his office door open. “Boss, I have to ask you—” He had been facing away from the door, but slowly turned around. The afternoon sun spilled diagonally across his body. His tanned skin glowed in the light. He had a lean waist and broad shoulders. The sharp, sculpted lines of his abdominal muscles trailed downward, disappearing beneath a black leather belt. He calmly picked up a clean T-shirt from the coat rack and pulled it over his head. “Why are you still not knocking?” “I—” I choked on my own saliva, unable to finish my sentence. I coughed awkwardly. “Come here.” His voice had a magnetic pull. Without realizing it, my feet moved forward. “Is there something you want to tell me?” His breathing came from right above my head, slightly heavier than usual. I looked down at the tips of our shoes. We were standing so close that if we weren’t wearing shoes, our toes would be touching. I held my breath, but my chest still heaved uncontrollably. “I’m sorry.” “You definitely owe me an apology.” His breathing grew more ragged. I pulled my gaze away from our shoes. Like I was possessed by a demon, I slowly reached my hand out…

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