During my poorest, most desperate year, I catfished a top-tier billionaire heir online. By day, I played the aloof, intellectual college student. By night, I transformed into a seductive, curvy siren. “I really want to see… your abs.” “I miss you so much. I want you to leave marks all over me.” “I like you the most. I miss you so, so much every single night.” “Why won’t you look at me…” The guy remained completely unfazed. He just looked at me with deep, unreadable eyes, playing the part of the cold, distant rich kid perfectly. Eventually, I got bored and decided to cut and run. But instead of letting me go, he snapped, turning into a dark, obsessive psycho and locked me up. “You think you can just tease me and run away, you little scammer? I thought you said you liked me the most.” “Don’t just act needy online. Show me how much you need me right now.” [Obsessive/Possessive/Curvy/Seductive Little Scammer/Catfishing/Betrayal/Psycho Billionaire Heir]

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I had been with Rowan Hayes for six years. When I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, I heard an argument outside the bedroom door. But it was just the two of us in the apartment. Who was Rowan talking to? I peeked through the crack in the door, only to see… two Rowans? “Bro, you’ve had Lily to yourself all week. It’s my turn today.” I slumped to the floor in absolute terror, my mind a chaotic mess. The door suddenly swung open. The two impossibly handsome men stood there, both wearing identical expressions of faint regret. “Busted…” “Well then, Lily. Guess which one is Rowan?” My lips trembled, but I couldn’t form a single word. Damn it all to hell, I have face blindness! 01 They took a step closer, their tall, broad figures casting a shadow that completely engulfed me. One of the “Rowans” crouched down to my eye level, his attractive, fox-like eyes narrowing into a smile. “Lily, guess which one is Rowan?” My lips quivered, but nothing came out. Taking my reaction exactly as expected, his smile deepened. “Oh, I forgot. Our Lily has face blindness.” … I first met Rowan Hayes during my sophomore year of high school. He went to a different school and was two grades above me. I was top of my class in STEM, but compared to him, I was leagues behind. Our teachers eventually paired us up for the State Math Olympiad. Rowan was a guy of incredibly few words. During the training camp, unless I was actively asking him a question, he treated his words like they cost a hundred bucks each. But I never got tired of it. I followed him around every single day, pestering him with questions. Are you kidding? He was ranked first in the state. If I didn’t cling to his coattails now, when would I? It got to the point where Rowan would just sigh, reach out, and take my textbook the moment he saw me running over. “Which one are you stuck on?” After we won the championship, I asked Rowan what college he was aiming for. Rowan looked down at me, probably thinking to himself that he’d accidentally adopted a clingy kitten. “Stanford.” It felt miles out of my reach, but the word buried itself in my heart like a seed. “Then wait for me. I’ll definitely get in.” After spending two months together, Rowan knew exactly what I was capable of. He gave a soft “Hmm,” and then he smiled. His usually cold, handsome face softened instantly. “I’ll wait for you.” Two years later, during freshman orientation, I saw him again. He was standing on stage, giving a speech as the student representative. I waved at him. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but he quickly lowered his gaze and focused on reading his script. I figured Rowan was just shy. From then on, whenever I ran into him on campus, I’d enthusiastically greet him, never getting tired of it. As time went on, Rowan went from just giving me a polite nod to actually smiling back. Sometimes, when he smiled, the California sun would outline his sharp jawline in a soft golden halo. It made everything else pale in comparison. It felt exactly like that afternoon two years ago. That hidden seed was finally breaking through the soil. I started asking Rowan to go to the library to study. Honestly, Rowan didn’t need to study. He basically memorized things on the first read. Mostly, it was just me burying my head in endless calculus problems, and Rowan naturally becoming my unpaid private tutor. In return, I’d treat him to dinner. Even though Rowan was nearly six-foot-three, he didn’t eat that much. I, on the other hand, at five-foot-six, ate like a feral hog released from a pen. I couldn’t help but complain, “Rowan, do you work out a lot?” He looked down at me, thought for a second, and gave a soft “Hmm.” “No wonder your body looks like that.” Rowan gave me a weird look. “You haven’t even…” Then he seemed to remember something, his face flushed bright red, and he clammed up. I remember one time we were walking back from the library when a sudden torrential downpour hit. The street was empty, and there was nowhere to take cover. Rowan and I sprinted to a small park gazebo. I was wearing a white chiffon blouse that day. Rowan was brushing the rain off his shoulders, but when he turned to look at me, his gaze snapped away like he’d been burned. I was panting heavily, my pale face flushed pink from the sprint. A few strands of wet hair were plastered to my cheeks. He frantically stripped off his jacket and, ignoring my protests, forced it over my shoulders. Raindrops dripped from his wet hair, sliding down his cheek, tracing his neck, and soaking his white t-shirt. The defined ridges of his abs were faintly visible through the wet fabric. It took every ounce of my willpower to look away. In the end, neither of us dared to look at the other. We just sat there in awkward silence for two hours, waiting for the rain to stop. But the distance between us had definitely shrunk. My roommate, Chloe, couldn’t stop teasing me. “Girl, I told you! With that kind of crazy persistence, you could conquer the world.” I giggled like an idiot. “Chloe, do you think he’d say yes if I asked him out on a real date?” A weird silence filled the room. “…I’m Chloe’s sister, actually…” “…Oh.” Damn it. I really hate my face blindness. For the next few weeks, I constantly brought cream puffs and little pastries to Rowan. But Rowan didn’t have a sweet tooth. He’d take one tiny bite at most. Over time, Rowan quietly memorized all my favorite flavors, and eventually, he was the one bringing the desserts. But mostly, he just sat there quietly, watching me stuff my cheeks like a chipmunk. Rowan felt like he was raising a soft, fluffy kitten. Proud, cute, and completely food-motivated. Gradually, I started to feel like Rowan and I were just one step away from making it official. So the next day, I ordered a bouquet of red roses. When I came back with the flowers, I saw Rowan hugging another girl. His back was to me. The girl was petite, practically buried in his chest. I froze in the doorway. Rowan turned his head and clearly saw me. He frowned, his eyes dropping to the roses in my arms. He looked completely stunned. I didn’t wait for his reaction. I spun on my heel and bolted down the hall as fast as my legs could carry me. God, why do you have to play me like this? 02 When I got back to the dorm, I burst into loud, ugly sobs. Chloe clenched her fists in righteous fury. “I knew he was trash!” I sniffled. “But I haven’t even told him how I feel yet.” “Say no more, bestie. I know exactly what this is. As a veteran of the dating trenches, you’re suffering from a broken heart.” I cried even harder. I laid my heart bare, and he stomped on it. Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. She yanked me off the bed. She squished my tear-stained cheeks, looking disgusted. “Stop crying, girl. Your face is wrinkling up like a raisin.” “Come on, get dressed. We’re going out to party.” Before I knew what was happening, Chloe had dragged me to a VIP lounge and shoved me onto a leather couch between two six-foot guys with shredded abs. One was shirtless, wearing some kind of leather harness that pressed against his chest and arms, leaving faint pink marks on his skin. The other was wearing fluffy black fox ears and gold-rimmed glasses, smiling at me with devastatingly handsome features. They kept calling me “pretty lady.” My scalp tingled, my entire body went rigid, and I didn’t dare relax for a single second. Chloe started organizing drinking games. After three rounds, my head was spinning, and I passed out against her shoulder. When I woke up, I heard Chloe arguing with someone. I rubbed my eyes and groggily saw Rowan… and two girls? My head was pounding. I held my temples and sat up. What was this? Was he afraid I’d keep pestering him, so he brought his girlfriend to warn me off? I bravely raised my hand and pointed a shaky finger at Rowan. Chloe gently adjusted my arm so I was actually pointing at him. “He’s over there.” “Even though I… I like you… since you have a girlfriend, I won’t bother you anymore! Waaah…” I was doing so well, but my tear ducts betrayed me. My lip quivered, and I started wailing all over again. The girl standing next to him immediately panicked and waved her hands. “Hey, pretty girl, you’ve got it all wrong! Here’s what actually happened this afternoon…” She explained that she had been sitting down for too long, and when she stood up, her low blood sugar hit. Her vision went black, and she collapsed. Rowan just happened to catch her. After she finished explaining, she even pulled out a piece of paper. “Rowan knew you misunderstood, so he dragged me to the campus clinic to get a doctor’s note to prove I passed out.” I looked at Rowan. He was standing there, the tips of his ears bright red, looking like a little kid who’d been caught doing something wrong. Chloe, staying completely in character, rolled her eyes at him, grabbed the club promoters, and moved to another booth to give us privacy. The girl quietly slipped away too. Rowan and I sat side-by-side. At this point, I don’t know where I found the liquid courage, but I grabbed the cup in front of me and took a massive gulp. Except I grabbed the wrong cup. I grabbed Chloe’s. It was a lethal concoction of vodka, tequila, and beer. Completely unaware of the danger, I turned to Rowan. “I like you.” Rowan nodded. “I know. Aren’t we already dating?” My brain started to deep-fry. “Since when?” “Didn’t you accept my flowers this afternoon?” “Huh?” I opened my phone and saw several missed calls and a text from a delivery driver. It was a picture of a bouquet of roses left on the porch of my dorm. “You ordered flowers too?” Rowan immediately spotted the issue. We stared at each other for a second, then both burst out laughing. I pouted playfully, mumbling, “You still owe me fresh flowers.” “I already bought some on the way here.” 03 “Lily?” The familiar voice pulled me back to reality. “There’s a punishment for guessing wrong, you know.” I looked up at the two identical men standing in front of me, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. Their clothes, their eyes, their hair, even their exact height—completely identical. One of them crouched down, meeting my eyes. His warm thumb gently stroked my cheek. The deep affection and tenderness in his eyes felt like a net, trapping me completely. The other one just stood there. The shadow of his hair hid his expression, but I could tell he was smiling. “Lily’s spacing out like this… Doesn’t it look exactly like when she’s sleepwalking?” A lightbulb went off in my head. I do have a history of sleepwalking! I immediately let my eyes unfocus, staring blankly ahead, pretending I couldn’t see the person right in front of me. My gaze passed right through them. “Looks like she really is sleepwalking.” A regretful, amused voice spoke. The one standing up turned to leave. Halfway to the door, he stopped and said, “Rhys, make sure you turn the heat up. Lily gets cold easily.” “I know.” Rhys scooped me up into his arms. I kept my face entirely blank until he gently laid me down on the mattress. I kept my breathing perfectly even. Rhys leaned over, pressing his forehead against mine to check my temperature. “Why is she always so cold?” He shifted, wrapped his arm around me, and pulled me flush against him. I didn’t dare move a muscle, staying curled up in the crook of his arm. His bare, muscular chest was pressed tightly against me. Rhys held me, his other hand absentmindedly stroking down my back, from my neck to my spine. Like he was petting a cat. The familiar, warm scent wrapped around me, and I instantly relaxed, stifling a silent yawn. Whenever I was stressed, “Rowan” used to comfort me exactly like this. I was so used to this dynamic that once the tension left my body, a wave of exhaustion hit me. As I drifted off to sleep, Rhys opened his tightly shut eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of sleepiness in them. 04 I should have realized it. I actually met Rhys the very first time I visited Rowan’s apartment. Rowan had gone overseas for a competition and won. To celebrate, I bought a gift and rushed over to his place the day he got back. I dropped the bags, threw my arms around him, and buried my face in his chest, mumbling, “I thought you weren’t coming back until the day after tomorrow?” “Rowan” tilted my head up, kissed my lips, and gave a warm, gentle smile. “Because I missed you.” It was a simple, honest, and passionate confession. He started cooking dinner. The soft kitchen lights hit his perfect side profile, and I practically drooled. You have to understand, I’ve been chronically single my entire life. He looked like an absolute snack. So, I hugged him from behind, my hands starting to wander. A deep flush spread across his face, making him look like a shy, blushing bride. My hands roamed over his abs, poking and squeezing. “L-Lily, don’t…” “I’m just checking to see if you kept up with your workouts while you were in Europe.” Feeling mischievous, my hand slipped slightly lower and gave a firm squeeze. I nodded in absolute satisfaction. Yep, perfectly toned. He swallowed hard, letting out a low, muffled groan. The veins on the arm holding the spatula bulged against his skin. He looked like he was battling restraint, agony, and pure desire all at once. Realizing I might have played with fire, I tried to make a break for it. Without even turning around, he pinned me with one arm, pulling me back and trapping me completely against his body. My legs were locked against his, our bodies pressed flush together. I could literally feel something burning hot standing at attention, saying a very friendly hello. I froze, terrified to move. He lowered his head, resting his chin on my shoulder. “You need to focus when you’re cooking.” His hot breath tickled my ear, making me shrink my neck. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my ear. “Don’t get distracted. You have to make sure both sides get cooked.” He won. I couldn’t out-flirt him, and I ultimately fled the kitchen in defeat. His low, rumbling laughter echoed behind me, making my face burn even hotter. 05 During dinner, he opened a bottle of wine. I chattered away, telling him all about my week. His gaze was soft as water as he watched me. The pure affection in his eyes was completely unguarded. My throat got dry from talking, so I grabbed my glass and downed it in one go. It was a sweet, rich wine, not harsh at all. I smacked my lips. He slowly, elegantly took tiny sips from his own glass. Propping up my dizzy head, I looked at his barely touched plate and frowned in confusion. “Rowan, aren’t you gonna eat?” His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at me adoringly, casually replying, “I’ll eat later.” Eat later? Was he planning on having a midnight snack? I groggily picked up my phone. It was 10:30 PM. If I didn’t leave now, I’d miss dorm curfew. I sprang up from the chair, then instantly tipped over. Luckily, he had quick reflexes and caught me by the waist. My vision was blurry. Were the lights always this dim in his living room? My mind was floating, my hands instinctively resting against his solid chest. “Lily?” “Mmhmm?” I hummed softly, looking up at his worried expression and those… incredibly kissable pink lips. They looked so soft. I reached up and touched them. In the dim light, I couldn’t see how dark his eyes had gotten, completely clouded with desire. I could only feel the arm around my waist tightening like a vise. I let out a soft whine, the sound coming out far more delicate and seductive than I intended. That little sound acted like a blade, instantly severing the last string of his self-control. He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the sofa. I clung to him, my body feeling like it had melted into jelly. A torrential storm of kisses rained down on me, catching me completely off guard. I tried to push him back gently, but he caught my hand and pressed a burning kiss to my palm. A shiver wrecked through my body, making my head spin even more. “Rowan.” “Yeah?” “I love you…” “I love you too.” The rest of my words were swallowed up in a kiss overflowing with emotion. He gently but firmly claimed every inch of me. I slowly melted into a puddle. Like a small boat caught in a rising tide, I was tossed to the highest peaks of the waves, only to crash back down. When we finally reached the shore, the little boat had nothing left to give, simply drifting with the current. I clung tightly to his back, crying and begging for mercy. He kissed away my tears, slowing his pace. “Lily, the night is still young.” 06 I have no idea when I fell asleep, but when I woke up, the bed was empty. There was only a sticky note on the nightstand. Lily, I had to run to campus to meet with my advisor. Breakfast is on the table, make sure you eat it. Love you. He’d even drawn a little cartoon dog at the bottom. I couldn’t help but smile. After I washed up and went downstairs, I was halfway through breakfast when the front door opened. I happily ran over and threw my arms around him in a massive hug. Then I grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and planted a huge smooch on his lips. He covered his mouth, a look of pure shock flashing across his eyes. I didn’t notice a thing. I just dragged him to the table, complaining about how intensely we had “battled” last night, completely oblivious to the fact that this wasn’t Rowan. He raised an eyebrow. His dark, ink-black eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as he looked at me. After a long pause, a smile finally broke across his face. It was a faint, teasing smirk, playful and a little wicked. The corners of his eyes lifted, and a dangerous glint appeared in his gaze. He reached out, pinched my cheek, and leaned in intimately, practically purring, “Want to go out and do something fun today?” His voice was a magnetic, smooth baritone, with a slight lilt at the end of his sentences. Like a cat flicking the tip of its tail to draw you in. I had never seen “Rowan” act like this. It was pure, intoxicating seduction. As we were heading out, I asked him why his advisor needed to see him. “Probably something about a competition,” he said nonchalantly. I stopped in my tracks and gave him a suspicious look. Realizing he had slipped up, he quickly backtracked, saying his advisor just needed him to fill out some forms for the next project proposal. I linked my arm through his, praising him without a second thought. “I knew my boyfriend was a genius.” “Come on, I’m taking you to the amusement park.” Because I didn’t look up, I completely missed his bright red ears and the guilty, panicked look in his eyes. He looked exactly like a Golden Retriever that had just chewed up your favorite shoes. 07 Tired from walking, we sat down on a bench. He told me to rest while he went to buy some water. I watched his back as he walked away. I felt like “Rowan” was unusually energetic today. Was it just because we were out having fun? I reached into my pocket for my phone, only to realize he had tossed it into his backpack before we left the apartment. 08 “Two bottles of water, please.” Inside Rhys’s pocket, the phone was buzzing non-stop. Looking visibly annoyed, Rhys pulled out the phone encased in a black cat phone case. He tentatively typed in his own birthday. Sure enough, it unlocked effortlessly. The lock screen was a photo of Lily and his brother. Rowan was looking down, his eyes filled with gentle affection for the girl in his arms. Rhys couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest, but it felt suffocating. If anyone had the right to claim her, he had met her before his brother ever did. When he opened her messages, the contact name “6’3, Abs, Capricorn” practically leaped off the screen. Rhys couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Who names their boyfriend that in their phone? [Lily, why aren’t you at the apartment?] [Did you go back to campus?] [My little brother got back yesterday. Do you want to meet him?] [Baby, why aren’t you answering me?] (Cartoon dog sticker) Rhys subconsciously touched his own lips, thinking about the kiss from that morning… Holding a cigarette between his lips, a wicked smile spread through the haze of smoke. With his long fingers, he swiped left on his brother’s messages and hit “Delete.” 09 He handed me the open bottle of water. I immediately caught the scent of tobacco. “Since when do you smoke?” He smoothly spat out a piece of gum, looking completely innocent. “The guy at the concession stand was smoking. I must have caught the smell standing there.” I nodded, then patted the empty space on the bench next to me, motioning for him to sit closer. He hesitated for a second before sliding over. I lifted my wrist and started rubbing it against the skin just behind his ear. He froze, his entire body going rigid. Even the tips of his ears flushed a soft pink. It was adorable. I couldn’t resist pinching his earlobe. At the feeling of skin rubbing against skin, he shivered. He leaned back slightly in shock, his chest rising and falling much faster than before. “Wh-What are you doing?” his voice wavered. I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled him back. He looked down, I looked up, and our eyes locked. His long eyelashes cast a shadow over his flawlessly sharp features, looking like a painting bathed in sunlight. My heart skipped a beat. I swallowed nervously and stammered, “I put on perfume before we left… I was just, um, sharing some with you.” I panicked, broke eye contact, and tried to yank my hand back. The moment I pulled away, he grabbed my wrist and pressed a quick kiss to it. I tried to pull free again, but he just gripped me tighter. He raised an eyebrow, a wicked, amused smile playing on his lips, and leaned in… I slapped a hand over his mouth, my face burning. “Not until tonight.” He frowned, his eyes darkening with an unreadable emotion. Tonight? He wasn’t going to be the one kissing her tonight… He pinned my hands with one arm and crashed his lips onto mine. Suddenly, the phone in his pocket started ringing. It was my ringtone. I pushed against his chest, mumbling incoherently against his lips, “My… my phone… mmph…” His gaze darkened completely. Keeping me pinned, he pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen. Caller ID: [Hubby]. He unceremoniously hit decline. “Spam call.” He cupped the back of my head and deepened the kiss. Afterward, I buried my face in my hands, curled up in his chest, blushing like a boiled lobster. Honestly, if I had just gone back to the apartment with him, I would have realized there was another Rowan waiting for me at home. But the university called an emergency meeting for my major, so I had to head straight back to campus. He saved his phone number in my phone, claiming it was just his secondary work line. After that, it felt like Rowan was spending way more time with me. One day he’d be out of state for an academic conference. The very next day, he’d miraculously appear right by my side to take me out. He took me to restaurants I had casually mentioned liking. Sometimes, though, his memory seemed a little spotty. We’d end up going to the same places twice. I just assumed it was because he really liked the food there, so I never questioned it. Our relationship only got better as the years went on. Until graduation day, our three-year anniversary. “Rowan” proposed to me. With a sparkling gold ring. He hugged me tightly, whispering, “Happy Graduation.” I grinned from ear to ear and hugged him back fiercely. “I love you, Rowan.” I felt his body stiffen slightly. Rowan? Guess it was time to put his cards on the table. He buried his face in my neck and kissed me, hard.

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During our graduation trip, we were playing a game. My boyfriend drew a “Dare” card requiring him to kiss the class queen bee. “It’s just a game, Chloe won’t mind, right?” Then I drew a “Truth” card. “Everyone sitting here tonight is going to die. I will kill you all.” 1 Ethan unrolled the slip of paper in his hand and raised an eyebrow. The light from the campfire danced across his handsome, rebellious features, casting flickering shadows. A half-smile played on his lips. Seeing him stay silent for a long moment, Ben, sitting next to him, grew impatient. “Ethan, what did you get?!” As he spoke, Ben snatched the paper from Ethan’s hand and read it aloud. “Kiss the second girl on your right for five minutes!” The group immediately started hooting and hollering. “The second girl on the right… isn’t that Mia, our class queen bee?!” “Ethan is a lucky guy!” “Not necessarily. What if Mia doesn’t want to?” Mia, who was poking the campfire with a stick, shrugged indifferently. “If it’s a game, we have to follow the rules. I’m not a sore loser. “But Chloe, hey, you don’t mind if I kiss your boyfriend, right?” Everyone’s gaze instantly shifted to me. Feeling embarrassed, I squeezed my fingers together. “I don’t think this is a good idea. How about we just say Ethan forfeits this round, and I’ll drink his penalty.” Saying that, I stood up and walked over to grab a can of beer. According to the rules, anyone who refused to complete a Truth or Dare had to chug a whole can of beer. I was a terrible drinker; even one sip made me flush. But I’d rather get drunk than watch Ethan kiss Mia. Seeing my reaction, the group started whispering, complaining that I was a buzzkill and too uptight to have fun on a trip. Ben curled his lip. “Like I said, you just can’t have fun with a country bumpkin like her.” 2 Before my fingers even touched the beer, my arm was suddenly yanked. Ethan stood beside me, frowning. “Did I tell you to drink?” He reached out, snatched the beer can, effortlessly popped the tab with his index finger, tilted his head back, and took a huge gulp. I breathed a sigh of relief. Ethan still cares about me, right? He won’t kiss Mia, and he doesn’t want me to drink. He won’t put me in a difficult position. Unexpectedly, a soft sobbing sound came from behind us. I turned around to see Mia covering her face, her shoulders shaking. The moment she started crying, the other students immediately started trying to comfort her and guilt-trip Ethan. “Ethan, this is uncool. Aren’t you just hurting her pride?” “Yeah, the girl said she was willing, and you pull this? Where is Mia supposed to hide her face now?” Ethan’s body stiffened. The next second, he tossed the beer can aside, strode over to Mia, and grabbed her arm. Mia was pulled to her feet by Ethan. Her eyes were red and teary, looking like a wronged, innocent little bunny. “What are you doing?” Ethan lowered his head and kissed her. He passed the mouthful of beer he had been holding into her mouth. My brain exploded with a loud boom. A sudden gust of mountain wind hit my back, chilling me to the bone. Mia let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms around Ethan’s neck. The two of them kissed passionately by the campfire while our classmates clapped excitedly. “Damn, that’s intense! Ethan really knows how to play!” Amidst the cheering and applause, I stood frozen in place, utterly lost. My expression was awkward, my limbs stiff, like a pathetic clown who didn’t know where to look. 3 The crowd watched them kiss with great interest. Ben’s mocking gaze swept over me from time to time. “Some people really think too highly of themselves.” “Exactly. Ethan and Mia have known each other since they were kids. Did she really think Ethan could stand to see Mia cry?” “Look, Ethan is even holding her waist. If you ask me, he probably likes Mia deep down.” Their posture was incredibly intimate. Ethan had his arm wrapped tightly around Mia’s waist, and Mia was on her tiptoes, clinging to his neck. They looked as if they wanted to merge into one another. Five minutes later, Ethan finally pulled away. He wiped the corner of his wet mouth with his thumb and smiled. “I just took a sip of beer to wet my whistle. Look how impatient you got.” Mia, breathless and blushing furiously, pounded his chest with her fists. “Ugh! You’re so bad!” Holding hands, they returned to their seats by the campfire. Seeing me still frozen in place, Mia called out to me triumphantly. “Chloe, what are you standing there for? Come back and keep playing.” As she spoke, her gaze shifted from me to Ethan, and she covered her mouth with a laugh. “You’re not actually mad, are you? Don’t take it seriously, Ethan and I are just bros. If anything were really going to happen between us, do you think he’d still be with you?” That exact phrase—not just from Mia, but from Ethan and all his friends—had been said to me countless times. My ears had callous from hearing it. I had transferred to their school in my junior year. This group, revolving around Ethan and Mia, had been close friends since middle school. Mia was the only girl in their tight-knit circle. She was pretty, wealthy, and outspoken. Ethan always insisted she was just “one of the guys.” Since Ethan and I started dating, we rarely had any time alone. He brought them along to every weekend hangout. If he excluded them even once, Mia would accuse him of abandoning his friends for a girl. This graduation trip was no exception. It was originally supposed to be just me and Ethan. But when Mia found out, she dragged this whole gang of misfits along, claiming that since we were graduating, there wouldn’t be many chances to get everyone together, so we had to go as a group. 4 Mia was the one who picked this location, too. The dense, old-growth forests of the Pacific Northwest. Specifically, a remote, rugged area known for vast stretches of untouched wilderness. It was rich in vegetation and rare wildlife, and it even had local legends about a “Wildman” or Bigfoot roaming the woods. Mia loved hiking and adventure. I, on the other hand, was timid and preferred the bustling energy of big cities. When we were picking a destination, Ethan saw a picture of this forest and immediately swiped past it. I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s not go into the deep woods. It scares me.” Hearing that, Mia immediately swiped back to the picture. “Ethan, let’s go here. We’ve all grown up in the city. Aren’t you bored of it yet? We should go explore the mountains and experience nature.” As soon as she spoke, Ben chimed in to agree, saying cities were boring and only country bumpkins wanted to squeeze into them. Ethan nodded. “Alright, we’ll go to the forest.” There wasn’t much entertainment out in the mountains. After setting up camp that night, it was Mia who suggested playing Truth or Dare. Everyone wrote a prompt on a piece of paper, threw them in a pile, and took turns drawing. Seeing me sitting there silently with my lips pressed together, Mia looked frustrated, as if she were about to cry. “Is it because I suggested the game that you don’t want to play? Chloe, do you really hate me that much?” Ethan patted her hand comfortingly, then turned to glare at me. “Chloe, don’t be a buzzkill. Come sit down.” 5 Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me. It was already 10:00 PM. The mountain forest was pitch black, and the cold wind howled, gust after gust, making the campfire flicker wildly. Seeing my lack of cooperation, Ethan’s expression grew even uglier. “If you don’t want to hang out with us, then get lost.” Ethan had a terrible temper. When he got angry, he didn’t care about anyone’s feelings. Once, he drove me to the suburbs to go camping. Following the GPS, we took several wrong turns and ended up on a dead-end dirt road. I told him the GPS was wrong and suggested we get out and ask a local for directions. He insisted it was right. After a brief argument, he suddenly lost his temper. While I was out of the car asking for directions, he slammed on the gas and drove off, leaving me behind. It was almost dark, and he abandoned me in a strange, rural area. My phone and bag were still in his car. I walked for a long time before I finally met a kind older woman who helped me call my dad. Knowing his personality, if I made him angry now, he would very likely pack up the rest of his friends and leave, abandoning me in this deep, remote forest. Helpless, I had no choice but to walk over and sit on Ethan’s right side. Ethan chuckled lightly. “That’s better. Good girl.” Saying that, he patted me on the head twice, like he was coaxing a puppy. The game continued. I drew a slip of paper, unfolded it, and read it by the firelight: “Tell everyone a secret.” It was a “Truth.” I tossed the paper into the campfire. Looking up, I slowly surveyed the circle of faces. In an incredibly slow, deliberate tone, I enunciated every word: “Tonight… everyone sitting here… is going to die.” 6 The mountain wind grew fiercer. The burning wood crackled, sending sparks flying and illuminating the faces gathered around the fire. Their relaxed, smiling faces froze, stiffening instantly. After a long pause, Mia finally let out a shriek. She scrambled backward, shrinking into Ethan’s arms, her eyes wide with anger. “Chloe, what kind of nonsense are you spouting?! “We’re just playing a game, why are you randomly cursing people?! If you’re mad at me, just say it, but saying everyone is going to die? You’re too vicious!” The others quickly joined in, criticizing me from all sides. But Ethan just raised an eyebrow, a lopsided smirk forming on his lips. “Oh? We’re all going to die?” He seemed highly amused. Pushing Mia away, he sat up straight. “How are we going to die? Give us the details.” “Ethan, why are you engaging with her?!” Mia, clearly displeased, pinched Ethan’s thigh hard. “She’s crazy. I told you from the start to stay away from her. These girls from the sticks have something wrong with their heads, just like that Lin—cough, cough!” Mia cut herself off mid-sentence, covering her mouth and coughing dryly. She pinched Ethan again, whining playfully. “Anyway, you’re not allowed to encourage her.” Ethan hissed slightly and grabbed Mia’s hand. “Princess, where are you touching? Dare to go a little higher?” Mia’s hand had originally been near Ethan’s knee. When he leaned back, her hand naturally slid up, her fingers nearly brushing his upper thigh. Her face turned bright red. She changed her pinch to a fist and pounded his chest thump, thump. “You are the absolute worst!” The two of them flirted and wrestled without a care in the world. Ethan caught Mia’s fists, pulling her tightly against his chest, and looked at me as if nothing had happened. “Keep going, Chloe. Tell us why we’re going to die. “If you can’t come up with a good reason—” The smile vanished from Ethan’s face. His eyes narrowed slightly, a cold glint in his pupils. “You know I don’t like it when people talk nonsense.” Across the campfire, the two of them sat intimately entwined. Ethan’s arm was wrapped tightly around Mia’s waist, and she leaned back against his chest, practically sitting on his lap. The stinging light of the fire burned my eyes. I offered a self-deprecating smile and looked away. “You guys have heard the legends of the ‘Wildman’ in these woods, right?” I sighed and lowered my voice. “It’s not a legend. My grandmother is from a village deep in this forest.” 7 My grandmother lived in a remote place called Dragon’s Creek. When I was six, after my parents divorced, my mother brought me back to the village, dumped me there, and left to find work in the city by herself. My grandmother was a fierce, fiery little old lady. She hated my mother for ignoring her advice and running off with a useless deadbeat. She didn’t treat me well either. She gave me just enough food to keep me alive and completely ignored everything else. My aunt was always giving me attitude too, calling me a freeloader and a burden. Every summer, she would call my mom asking for money. When my mom refused, my aunt would stamp her feet, scream obscenities into the phone, and threaten to sell me. My mom’s lazy drawl would come through the phone: “Selling a person is a felony. You try selling her, and I’ll call the cops.” “Felony? You work in the city for a few years and think you’re a city slicker now? What did I even do? Call the cops, I dare you! I’d like to see who they arrest—you, the tramp who abandons her kid to whore around with men in the city, or me!” The two of them would scream at each other over the phone. Furious, my aunt would grab a piece of firewood from the stove and start beating me. I would scream in agony. My aunt would raise her thin eyebrows, looking incredibly smug. “You hear that?! Linda, if you don’t send money, I’ll beat your daughter to death.” My mom would just laugh indifferently. “Go ahead and beat her. If she dies, you go to prison and get the death penalty. Pong! Hey, I called Pong on that! Give me that Three of Circles back.” Infuriated, my aunt would pin me down and beat me even harder. Until her anger subsided, she forbade anyone in the house from giving me food. When I got too hungry, I had no choice but to go up the mountain to forage for wild berries. And that was where I encountered the Wildman for the first time. 8 I still remember, that day was incredibly hot. This area was at a high elevation. Normally, once night fell, the air in the mountains should have been quite cool. But that night, the entire village felt like it was trapped in a steamer. Heat radiated from the ground. I lay on a straw mat, my empty stomach burning with hunger. My back was scalding hot, my whole body felt like it was on fire, and the little energy I had left was rapidly evaporating. Acid constantly welled up in my mouth. Unable to bear the hunger any longer, I got up, put on my shoes, and prepared to head to the back mountain to pick some wild fruit. During the summer, the mountain had wild kiwis, wild grapes, and a fruit we called “August Burst.” This oval-shaped fruit ripens and bursts open in August; the flesh tastes like a mix of banana and ice cream, incredibly refreshing. The few spots on the back mountain where they grew were constantly monitored by the village kids and had been picked clean long ago. I had to venture deeper. Normally, I would never dare go up the mountain late at night. But when a person reaches the absolute limit of starvation, when the brain is entirely controlled by an empty stomach, fear ceases to exist. I walked through the forest with a flashlight, stumbling with every other step. I couldn’t even remember how many times I fell. Suddenly, a bizarre, eerie cry echoed from ahead. I had heard the adults say there were feral wolves, wild boars, and even black bears on the mountain, and they all ate people. Trembling with fear, I quickly switched off my flashlight and scrambled up a large tree nearby. The moon was very bright that night. The strange cries drew closer and closer, stopping right beneath my tree. “And then what happened?” Ben, completely absorbed in the story, couldn’t help but interrupt. I shrank my neck, pulled my blanket tighter around me, and gestured with my hands. “I saw a section of intestines, about this long. At least ten or twelve feet. “Fresh intestines, still dripping with slimy fluids, radiating an incredibly strong, foul stench. The end of the intestine was tied into a loop, like a lasso.” I paused, my voice trembling. “A massive Wildman, its face and body covered in black hair, looked up at me and smiled. “It swung the intestines in its hand, instantly looping them around my neck, and yanked hard. I was ripped right out of the tree.” 9 The moment the words left my mouth, a cold, slimy rope suddenly dropped around Ben’s neck. The rope jerked backward. Ben’s eyes widened in sheer terror, and he let out a blood-curdling, agonizing scream. He tumbled to the ground, thrashing and wailing desperately. “Help! Wildman! A Wildman is trying to kill me—” Everyone else burst into hysterical laughter. Mia collapsed into Ethan’s arms, laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “Oh my god, Ben, look at what a coward you are! Hahaha—” Ben opened his eyes in bewilderment. Marcus stood over him, one hand in his pocket, swinging a climbing rope in the other. “Hahahaha! Ben, you are such a wimp. You got scared that easily by Chloe’s little story? Did you pee your pants? Let me check.” Saying that, he went to kick Ben in the crotch. Ben, flushed with anger and embarrassment, covered his crotch. “Fuck off!” Marcus was a sports scholarship student. He was half a head taller than Ethan, built like a tank, with a violent temper and a love for pranks. However, his family was ordinary, and his dad worked for Ethan’s dad’s company. So, around Ethan, he was always very well-behaved, constantly calling him “Boss Ethan.” To everyone else, he wasn’t nearly as polite. Ben didn’t dare take his anger out on Marcus, so he directed all his fury at me. He jumped up from the ground and aggressively rolled up his sleeves. “Dammit, you stupid bitch, do you have a death wish?!” Ben raised his arm, preparing to strike me. “That’s enough!” Ethan interrupted him with a laugh. “I actually think this game is getting interesting. Keep going, Chloe. The Wildman caught you. Then what?”

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As graduation approached and it was time to settle the cohort dues, I stared at the message in the group chat: [Cohort Fund Balance: $368.60] I fell into a deep silence. Since freshman year, all fifty of us in the business cohort had paid $500 annually in chapter dues. We even bought our own textbooks out of pocket. How could there be almost nothing left? Liam, our Cohort President, sent another message: [We would never embezzle the cohort funds. Every single transaction is recorded.] But a few seconds later, he unsent it. Everyone in the chat started shouting, demanding to see the ledger. That was when my roommate, Chloe—our VP of Academics—started to panic. 1 I was just about to lie down for a nap. A notification popped up in our cohort’s GroupMe: [Cohort Fund Balance: $368.60] All the sleepiness vanished from my body. I jumped out of bed. I stared hard at the screen, analyzing those three digits, the decimal, and the change, completely lost in thought. We had been paying these dues since freshman year. Four years, $500 a person, fifty students in the cohort. That was $100,000 total. Even our daily class materials and textbooks were bought with our own money. How on earth was there only three hundred bucks left? Immediately, classmates began raising questions, asking Liam if his math was wrong. Liam sent another message: [We would never embezzle the cohort funds. Every single transaction is recorded.] Some fast-typing classmates immediately tagged him, demanding to see the expense sheet. A minute later, the screen showed: Liam unsent a message. At first, I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he really had just miscalculated the total. I was already daydreaming about how to spend my cut of the massive refund. But then I looked closer. Liam hadn’t unsent the balance. He had unsent the second message. Meaning, after four years and $100,000, our collective fund really was sitting at a pathetic $368.60. The group chat absolutely exploded. 2 Noah, the designated chatterbox of our cohort, was the first to tag the President. [Liam, how did you get $368.60? Did you put the decimal in the wrong place?] [Stop trolling us, man! Everyone’s waiting for that refund so we can be rich for a week!] Other classmates chimed in: [Even with a misplaced decimal, it should be way more than that, right?] Noah then led the charge, demanding to see the official ledger for the cohort’s expenses. Back when we first collected the dues freshman year, Advisor Davis had sworn to us: “The use of the cohort funds will be entirely public and transparent.” She handed full control of the money over to us students. To ensure everything was tracked, she even made Liam open a specific, separate bank account just for the cohort dues. It was supposed to keep the money safe, leave a paper trail, and allow for quick audits. So Noah’s request to see the ledger wasn’t out of line at all. It was perfectly reasonable. I chimed in and sent: [I want to see the ledger too +1.] Liam quickly replied: [Still organizing the spreadsheet. Please wait.] Didn’t they say we could check the accounts at any time? Besides, he had already announced the $368.60 balance, which meant he had obviously already run the numbers. I glanced over and noticed my roommate, Chloe—the VP of Academics and Liam’s girlfriend—sitting at her desk with her brows knitted tightly together. I patted her shoulder. “Chloe, there’s no way our fund only has three hundred bucks left. Don’t stress. Your boyfriend probably just made a spreadsheet error. He just needs to clarify it with everyone.” She hesitated for a second before forcing a smile. “Yeah, exactly.” But I could see the panic in her eyes growing stronger. An hour passed. Liam still hadn’t posted the itemized ledger. I sent a message to the group: [Liam, is the itemized list ready yet?] The very next second, I was hit with a one-hour mute from the group admin. Seeing the mute notification, Chloe walked over to me and defended her boyfriend. “Emma, Liam has a lot on his plate managing the cohort. Don’t push him so hard. It disrupts his ability to serve the students.” I mentally gave her a standing ovation for her breathtaking double standards. When Chloe and Liam got into a fight a few months ago, she stayed up until 2 AM loudly arguing with him on the phone for three hours straight. The entire dorm couldn’t sleep. As her roommate, all I could do was comfort her and try to calm her down. The next day, when they made up, Liam somehow blamed me for their argument. Then there was the group project incident. We were less than an hour away from the Canvas submission deadline. Our entire dorm group was just waiting on Chloe to finish her section. I urged her to hurry up. Instead, she snapped at me: “I’m the VP of Academics! I’m close with the professor. It doesn’t matter if we submit it a little late.” The rest of us sat in stunned silence as she spent an entire hour doing a full face of flawless makeup at her vanity. Then we watched her leave the dorm looking gorgeous to go on a date with Liam. The result? We missed the submission window. Our group got a flat zero. But Chloe? She used her administrative access to adjust the peer-evaluation scores, secretly giving herself maximum participation points. She ended up passing the class with flying colors. The three of us took the zero, but since we had high grades otherwise, we didn’t fail the course. Since she was our roommate, we swallowed our anger and didn’t report her. And now, I simply asked a question in the group chat… And I was branded as “disrupting the busy President from serving the students.” What a joke. 3 Three hours later, Liam finally sent a few pictures to the group. It was a piece of notebook paper covered in chicken scratch, listing the total expenses over the last four years. The chat lit up immediately: [I knew it! It was just a math error. There’s no way Liam would embezzle our money.] [Exactly. We paid $100,000 total. There’s no universe where only $300 is left.] But then, Noah cropped the bottom of Liam’s photo and sent it to the chat: [Remaining Balance: $386.60.] So after three hours of “auditing,” the balance hadn’t gone up a single cent? Chloe, acting as the loyal girlfriend and VP, immediately turned on the “Admin Only” messaging restriction. She sent a long paragraph: [Every penny is accounted for. We would never steal from our classmates. If you want to see the detailed itemized spreadsheet, DM me privately.] Me: ? So those scribbled photos posted in the chat were just the “rough draft”? This couple really had a system going. The guy posts a messy, illegible handwritten note, while the girl hoards the actual detailed spreadsheet. If they ever broke up, handing over the cohort documents would require an escrow service. I DMed Chloe: [Can you send me a copy of the detailed ledger?] She turned around, smiling sweetly, and linked her arm through mine. “Of course! Sending it now. Perks of being roommates, right? Our dorm always gets the inside scoop first.” Huh? I sat in silence. A moment later, a file popped up in our dorm’s private group chat. This “detailed” ledger didn’t clarify Liam’s messy notes at all. In fact, it was stuffed with bizarre, inexplicable charges. Even Mia, the roommate who usually got along best with Chloe, gasped out loud. “What?! $20,000 for the Spring Gala props?! Were they made of solid gold?” “Wait, why is there a $2,500 charge for the Business Ethics Certification Exam for 50 people? Half of us never even registered for that!” Chloe’s face shifted. She forced a laugh and quickly explained: “Those categories also include Advisor Davis’s travel stipends and catering costs. I just bundled them together to make the math easier.” I was even more stunned. Advisor Davis needed our cohort funds for her personal travel? Bundled for convenience? Since when is accounting done by mashing random expenses together? Since dozens of classmates were furious and demanding the detailed list, I simply downloaded the spreadsheet and forwarded it directly into the main cohort GroupMe. Chloe glared at me, her voice dripping with annoyance. “Why did you put that in the main chat?” I replied casually, “Everyone wanted to see it. You and Liam are so incredibly busy serving the students, I figured I’d help lighten your workload.” Since freshman year, Chloe had always tried to “buy” our loyalty with petty favors. She’d give us a heads-up on pop quizzes or casually delay telling the rest of the cohort about lucrative internship opportunities so we could apply first. Through shady tactics like that, she wiped out half her academic competition. Her title as “VP of Academics” was nothing more than a tool for personal profit. Three minutes later, Noah broke the silence in the group chat. 4 [Wait, the CPR Certification fee is $50. $50 times 50 people is $2,500. Why is this charged to the cohort fund?] [Didn’t we all Venmo the Treasurer separately out of our own pockets for that exam?] As soon as Noah pointed it out, other classmates started posting screenshots of their old Venmo transactions. The chat was instantly flooded with payment receipts. [Yeah! I literally Venmoed Liam directly for this. Why is it being deducted from the communal fund again?] Liam hurried to do damage control: [It was a long time ago. It might be a clerical error. We definitely spent that money, I just might have logged it under the wrong category name.] A wall of question marks materialized in the chat. [Insert meme of confused old man looking at his phone.] I typed: [So you double-charged us?] Liam deleted my message at lightning speed. He was so fast I genuinely wondered if my Wi-Fi had glitched. Liam rapidly started typing out new, fabricated expense categories to cover the gaps. Everyone was stressed with graduation right around the corner. The only reason people were even active in the chat was because of the refund money. To a broke college senior, getting back a slice of a $100,000 pie is life-changing money. Noah then dropped a screen-recorded video of himself doing a line-by-line audit of the spreadsheet. In the video, he said: “There’s a flat $5,000 withdrawal here with no receipt, and a $1,212 ‘tech fee’ that literally makes no sense.” Someone else asked: [If the math is this bad, where did all the missing money actually go?] The uproar grew deafening. In just ten minutes, the chat hit 999+ notifications. Liam finally sent one ominous message: [Noah, DM me right now.] 5 Gradually, the group chat fell silent. When I came back from grabbing lunch, Chloe was hunched over her desk, furiously writing. I looked closer. She was manually recalculating the cohort funds. Didn’t she say the math was already finalized? Why was she crossing things out with white-out? Then I witnessed a masterclass in fraud—she quietly deleted the $1,212 tech fee. Then she added $602 to “Tailgate Supplies.” And bumped up the “Spring Gala” budget by another $610. I watched her operate in pure awe. She was a prodigy at cooking the books! Noticing me, she smiled smoothly and explained: “There were a few minor discrepancies earlier. But it’s all fixed now! The ledger is perfectly balanced, every penny matches up.” “As long as it balances,” I replied flatly. “Everyone is just waiting for the final, accurate version.” I opened GroupMe. Strangely, Noah—our resident chatterbox—had completely vanished from the conversation. The chat had returned to its usual dead silence. Later that afternoon, I bumped into Noah on campus. I stopped him and asked: “Why so quiet all of a sudden?” He laughed awkwardly, lowering his voice. “You know how it is. Graduation is coming up. Too busy. No time to check group chats.” Was that the truth? I walked with him to the dining hall and we sat in a quiet corner. I whispered, “Did Liam threaten you? “If he did, just nod.” Noah shook his head aggressively like a rattle. Then, he gave two very heavy, deliberate nods. He didn’t want to get into the details, and I didn’t press him. It was exactly on-brand for that toxic power couple. Back in our junior year, Liam and Chloe had entered a National Business Case Competition. A classmate discovered they had blatantly plagiarized their winning presentation. At the end of the semester, Liam and Chloe used their authority to tank that classmate’s peer-review scores to the absolute minimum. The poor guy was forced to retake the entire course. If you can’t solve the problem, just eliminate the person pointing it out. Before leaving, Noah looked deeply conflicted. “Emma, just let it go. We’re about to graduate. He’s the President, his girlfriend is the VP. It’s not worth the fight.” I nodded and waved goodbye. When I opened TikTok later, a familiar image popped up on my For You page. Someone had leaked our cohort’s spreadsheet! The creator captioned it: [This is my college cohort’s expense ledger. Can you guys help me spot the red flags?] There were already hundreds of comments. The internet sleuths immediately tore the ledger apart. Everyone agreed the remaining balance was completely fabricated and the missing funds had to be massive. By the time I got back to my dorm, the video had been taken down for “violating community guidelines.” I had to marvel at Liam’s speed. He worked fast. Behind me, Chloe was texting so fast her thumbs were a blur. “Chloe, who are you talking to?” I asked. She glanced over her shoulder. “Just my mom. Talking about graduation stuff.” But the profile picture on her screen was unmistakably Liam’s. I took a screenshot of the deleted TikTok post and dropped it into the group chat. Less than five minutes later, Liam privately messaged me, demanding I come downstairs for a “talk.” I found a furious Liam waiting outside the dorm building. “Emma, how could you post internal cohort documents on the internet? “Delete it immediately. If you have a problem, you bring it to me directly.” I pulled out my phone and played an audio comment someone had left on the video: “Why is there a $6,000 catering fee for five people? Did they eat gold-leaf steaks at a diner…” Before the audio finished, Liam snatched the phone out of my hand and started furiously tapping my screen. He used so much force he nearly knocked me over. I rubbed my bruised arm as he stepped back, creating distance between us. After ensuring the post was deleted from my phone, he reluctantly handed it back. His eyes were dark and menacing as he lowered his voice: “You really need to stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your diploma in June, would you?” 6 A smart woman knows when not to fight a losing battle. I took my phone, muttered a quick goodbye, and walked away. What he didn’t realize was that his little physical altercation had been captured in crisp HD by the dorm’s security cameras. When I got back to the room, Chloe saw my slightly shaken expression and immediately handed me a Starbucks iced latte, playing the sweet peacemaker. “Emma, my boyfriend has a terrible temper, but he doesn’t mean any harm. Just ignore him.” With everyone swamped with graduation prep, the chatter about the refunds began to fade. The topic even shifted completely when someone in the chat started congratulating Liam and Chloe for surviving four years of college as a couple. People were praising them as the “perfect campus sweethearts.” The legendary romance between the President and the VP started all the way back in our freshman year. Back then, Chloe had caught a lot of attention for her flawless makeup and trendy outfits. Liam, as President, was assigned to hand-deliver some administrative paperwork with her. After a few trips to the Dean’s office together, they grew close. One sunny afternoon, Chloe returned to the dorm looking incredibly flushed and giddy. She squealed, announcing they were officially dating. From that day on, our dorm became ground zero for all her relationship drama and complaining. But that wasn’t even the worst part. During our sophomore year, there was a notoriously strict Ethics professor who called roll personally. When he called Liam’s name, the class murmured that he wasn’t there. The professor sighed and asked the VP of Academics to take over roll call. The class erupted into laughter. They informed the professor that the VP wasn’t there either. Just as the professor was getting confused, someone shouted: “The President took the VP out for bottomless brunch!” The professor nodded and marked them absent. This professor was infamous for failing students over attendance. We all thought Liam and Chloe were doomed. Then, a miracle happened. At the end of the semester, both of them had perfect attendance scores, and their final grades were a sparkling ‘A’. The dark magic behind that grade change was an open secret. After they started dating, Chloe ditched her “girl-next-door” aesthetic entirely. She rebranded as a hypebeast fashionista. Prada bags, limited-edition Dior lipsticks, rare designer perfumes—you name it, she had it. Where did the missing cohort funds go? Looking back now, her sudden influx of wealth that completely mismatched her actual financial background definitely had something to do with our missing money. 7 A few days later, Advisor Davis finally spoke up in the group chat: [The cohort funds are entirely student-managed. Please direct all refund inquiries to Liam.] I instantly typed: [Professor Davis, could we get a PDF of the actual bank statements for the cohort’s debit account?] Dozens of classmates immediately echoed the request. Advisor Davis replied: [Liam, please upload the statements for the students.] Liam immediately sent me a threatening DM, telling me to remember what he said outside the dorm. After all, the last guy he threatened (Noah) had been silenced completely. But I had put up with them for four years. Now, they were playing dumb with our money. This time, I wasn’t backing down. What was wrong with defending the money I paid out of my own pocket? Under pressure from the Advisor, Liam reluctantly uploaded screenshots of the bank statements to the group. The statements clearly showed the exact timestamps of every massive withdrawal. Some eagle-eyed classmates quickly realized that the dates of the massive expenditures perfectly aligned with the exact days Chloe showed up to class flaunting new designer items. The chat exploded into a forensic investigation: [Wait, that May 20th withdrawal for $4,820… isn’t that the exact retail price of that Chanel bag in this pic? attaches photo] [Hold up, what about that $3,700 charge? Didn’t Liam start wearing those limited-edition Dior sneakers the very next week?] The horrifying truth dawned on everyone: Liam had been using our cohort’s bank account as his personal debit card! Everyone finally knew exactly where the $100,000 went. [Liam, are you gonna say something?!] [You were our President for four years! Explain yourself, we still want to give you the benefit of the doubt!] Seeing the outrage, Advisor Davis ordered Liam to give the cohort a proper explanation. Liam went radio silent. Meanwhile, back in the dorm, Chloe’s face was ashen. She was frantically shoving her designer bags into the deepest corners of her closet. Clearly, the internet detectives had hit the nail on the head. She looked at me in a pure panic, stammering: “D-don’t get the wrong idea! I bought these bags with my own money! It has nothing to do with Liam!” I gave her a slow, deliberate nod. “Oh.” I hadn’t asked a single question, yet she had essentially confessed to everything. The uproar in the group chat reached a boiling point. Chloe quickly fired off a message to the group: [We are currently verifying every single transaction. If there are any mistakes, we will refund the missing amounts out of our own pockets!] I was actually looking forward to seeing what kind of creative accounting this Bonnie and Clyde duo would attempt next. 8 Surprisingly, two days later, Chloe wasn’t panicking at all. She was lounging on her bed, casually scrolling through TikTok. Meanwhile, I noticed two expensive bottles of perfume sitting on my desk that definitely didn’t belong to me. As I stared at them in confusion, I saw Chloe actively typing into the shared Google Doc ledger: [Emma’s Spring Gala Perfume Expense: $250.] While I was processing that, I glanced over and saw several performance outfits draped over Mia’s chair. They were the exact same outfits Chloe had worn during the sports festival last year. Seeing that Mia and our other roommate had returned, Chloe locked the dorm door and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper: “Guys, the ledger is a little messy right now. Since we’re roommates, I need a favor. Just claim these items as your expenses. “You guys can keep the stuff as a gift.” Mia and I exchanged bewildered looks. When they were living large, we didn’t see a dime. Now that the feds were closing in, we were supposed to be accomplices? She was trying to drag the entire dorm down with her to muddy the waters! “Chloe, I don’t think this is a good idea. We never used this stuff. Giving it to us now doesn’t change anything,” Mia said hesitantly. Chloe practically shoved the clothes into Mia’s arms. “It’s fine, just do me this favor! If you see anything else you like in my closet, just take it.” The other roommate eventually caved and agreed to follow her “arrangement.” When Chloe turned to me, trying to pin a $2,000 fraudulent expense on my name, I held my hands up and backed away. “Leave me out of this. I don’t know anything about it.” Hearing this, Chloe’s face twisted in fury. She pointed a manicured finger right at my nose and screamed: “I’ve been your roommate for four years! Do you have any idea how many perks you got because of me? Now that we hit a little bump in the road, you won’t even help out? “How can you be so selfish?! Do you really want to make things ugly right before graduation?” I was genuinely stunned by her sheer delusion. Did she actually think that pinning fake expenses on her roommates would convince the rest of the cohort? Did she think that legally absolved her of stealing $100,000? In her twisted mind, I was the ungrateful villain. It was laughable. I slammed my hand onto my desk, making sure everyone in the room could hear me loud and clear. “What perks?! You waking me up at 2 AM with your screaming matches? “Or how about when you begged me to buy you breakfast, then changed your mind, leaving me to pay for two meals? “Or was the ‘perk’ when you refused to do your part of the group project, earning me the only flat zero of my college career?!” Having her hypocritical mask ripped off, Chloe’s face turned beet red with rage. We didn’t speak another word to each other. Later, while walking out of the campus gates, I spotted Liam. Driven by curiosity, I glanced in his direction—and witnessed something explosive. The girl he was holding hands and laughing with was not Chloe! The cohort’s legendary “campus sweethearts” were officially a sham.

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My boyfriend had depression. His medication and therapy sessions cost thousands of dollars every month. To pay for his treatment, I worked day and night, juggling freelance illustration commissions and running food deliveries. My friends all warned me to be careful of working myself to death. Until one day, I snagged a lucrative delivery run to a high-end gated community. I respectfully handed the premium, $2,500 Japanese takeout order to the customer with both hands. When I looked up, I saw my boyfriend—who was supposed to be at his therapy session—standing in the doorway, looking at me in utter shock. 01 “Shouldn’t you be at the clinic, Arthur Sterling?” I looked at the elegantly and luxuriously decorated mansion, my left hand gripping the takeout box so tightly it hurt. Even though it was 100 degrees outside, I was trembling as if I had plunged into an ice bath. I had only ever seen places like this in TV shows. “I’m sorry, Chloe, listen to me. Dr. Liu had an emergency this afternoon…” “I’m just hanging out at a friend’s house.” Faced with this sudden exposure, Arthur lost his composure and tugged at my sleeve. It was his go-to move when apologizing. It always worked, but not this time. I coldly swatted his hand away. I couldn’t name the designer brand of the custom shirt he was wearing, but ironically, it fit his aura of a wealthy heir far better than the basic clothes he usually wore. I lowered my eyes, pulled out my phone, and opened the appointment app for Green City Hospital. Seeing that Dr. Liu in the psychology department still had available slots today, I lost all interest in exposing his lie. Taking a deep breath, I cleared my head and forced a calm, steady voice: “Arthur, are you having fun?” “Pretending to be a down-and-out, depressed, poor kid around me, acting like you can’t even afford a bubble tea… when in reality, you’re a rich kid who drops $2,500 on a single meal!” My lips trembled. I glared resentfully at the man in front of me, not even realizing my eyes had filled with tears. “You really… played me for an absolute fool…” “Two thousand five hundred dollars! I’d have to complete over six thousand delivery runs. That’s two months of work…” The most ridiculous part was that the only app left open in the background of my phone… was the message I had sent Arthur half an hour ago. I told him I was treating us to an extra dish tonight, planning to make his favorite lotus root soup. Because the customer in this wealthy neighborhood was very generous, leaving a $15 tip. I just never imagined that the tip came from Arthur himself. 02 Arthur would always hold me late at night and say that in this world, my love was the only thing he would never question. Even his parents’ love for him wasn’t as pure as mine. Those whispers once made me rejoice that in a world where true feelings are rare, I was one of the lucky ones. Looking back now, I realized no one else would be stupid enough to brave the risk of heatstroke for a measly dollar hot-weather bonus, just to scrape together his medical expenses for the month a little faster. “I haven’t slept more than five hours a night in so long. I dream about you recovering a day sooner.” “You know this better than anyone, don’t you?” My questioning voice gradually choked with emotion. Arthur’s previously calm expression cracked, and he nodded, his eyes rimmed with red. In that cramped, rundown, one-bedroom apartment, where it took half an hour just to walk to the subway station… He watched me exhaust myself, watched me pinch every penny. Watched me struggle, desperately paying for his fake “slumming it” game, all to treat this fabricated depression. He acted like a god the entire time, watching coldly from the sidelines. “I’ll transfer some money to your bank account as compensation.” “I’m sorry for doing this to you.” Arthur lowered his head slightly, guilt and a trace of helplessness in his eyes. Realizing he couldn’t talk his way out of it, he simply gave up. With stiff fingers, I pulled out the crumpled receipt from my pocket. It was a foot and a half long, filled entirely with premium cuts of meat. I crumpled it into a ball and threw it at him with all my might. Arthur didn’t dodge; his expression was a mix of sorrow and remorse. The cool air from inside brought a touch of relief. Amidst the chirping of cicadas, footsteps approached from nearby. Followed by a woman’s coquettish voice: “Arthur, is the food here yet? I’m starving to death!” 03 Arthur and I broke our standoff, his expression changing slightly. When we both turned, we saw a young woman walking toward us wearing a lace slip dress. Arthur panicked and stepped forward to stop her: “Why did you come out? I’m coming right back in. Be a good girl, go back inside.” But the girl seemed determined to see what was going on. She bypassed Arthur, looked at me with a smile, her almond eyes revealing a hint of familiarity and disdain. “Is this…” Silence. Seeing our mutual silence, the corners of her mouth curved up. She then naturally hooked her arm through Arthur’s and pulled the dusty pink, slightly sheer slip dress down a bit. The red marks on her neck and the curves beneath the fabric were on full display. She leaned against Arthur softly, as if she had no bones. The man’s anxious gaze fell on me. I turned my head away in despair and closed my eyes briefly. My sweat-soaked hair clung stickily to my face, and my temples throbbed with a dull ache. Even if I were dense, I knew exactly what had happened here. I originally thought I was just the unlucky victim in a rich kid’s poverty simulation. Now, it seemed I was also the spicy seasoning in his love story. Just pure, unadulterated bad luck. I didn’t want to stay any longer. I turned around, packed up my delivery box, and prepared to leave. But the girl suddenly called out to me: “Wait, are you the slum girlfriend Arthur plays with outside of school?” “I didn’t recognize you in that delivery uniform. Are you Chloe Price from the College of Liberal Arts?” 04 I stopped and turned back to look at her. Half a minute later, I finally confirmed it. She was Mia, a senior one year ahead of me—the girl with an excellent background and looks, surrounded by admirers like stars around the moon. But we had history. Because she pulled strings to steal my financial aid grant for someone else, I never sucked up to her like everyone else did. Seeing my dark, unnatural expression, Mia tightened her grip on Arthur’s arm. She put on an act of delightful surprise and spoke in a sugary voice: “Arthur, I didn’t expect this! Last year, I casually complained to you about an annoying, pretentiously aloof junior…” “And after asking a few questions, you actually went and messed with Chloe for me! I admire your methods, so brilliant…” Mia looked up, glared at me, and continued: “So brilliant that you played the great talent of our college, Chloe Price, like a dog running in circles.” My hands, hanging by my sides, slowly clenched into fists. The cool air from the house blew on me, but I felt no relief or comfort. To these people, the future, emotions, money, and sweat of ordinary people were like an eyesore of weeds by the side of the road. Not only did they ignore it, but they also had to trample it underfoot and spit on it. Mia leaned in and kissed Arthur’s cheek, like a reward for making a fool of me, and shot me a provocative look. Then, as if remembering something, her expression turned strange and frantic. She asked: “Junior Chloe, did Arthur tell you he had depression?” I frowned, not denying it. The woman in front of me doubled over in laughter. But the words coming out of her mouth made my blood run cold. “That’s because I told Arthur that your younger brother committed suicide because of depression.” “As long as Arthur said he had depression, a brainless fool like you would definitely fall for it.” “And sure enough.” 05 As soon as her words fell, the air stagnated for a moment, leaving only the sound of cicadas. My mind exploded, losing all rationality. I bit my lower lip hard, took off my delivery helmet, gripped it tightly, and smashed it frantically at Arthur. If I swallowed this insult, I might as well go open a steamed bun shop tomorrow. My chest heaving violently, I screamed: “Depression, huh?! Playing poor, huh?! Love poking at people’s trauma, huh?!” “You deserve to have parents who don’t love an animal like you! You deserve to watch your dad beat your mom! Why didn’t he beat you to death too?!” “I’ll fucking beat you to death for your dad right now!” During the year Arthur and I were together, whether he was acting or feeling genuine emotion, we had shared our vulnerabilities. So I knew perfectly well that what he could never let go of was his parents’ coldness and neglect, which left him completely deprived of familial love since childhood. And right now, that became my weapon to verbally attack and curse him. Before they could react, I smashed the helmet into Arthur’s face again and again. Driven by pure rage, I gasped for air. Long-term lack of sleep made my head start to spin. The moment Mia mentioned my brother, Leo Price, the rationality I had maintained all afternoon crumbled instantly. He was my absolute boundary, the one person no one was allowed to touch. Until Mia pulled me away, Arthur didn’t fight back once. He covered his mouth, his hands covered in blood. “Are you okay, Arthur?! I’m calling the police right now!” “This crazy bitch has a death wish, daring to hit you?! I’ll have my dad…” Mia’s angry voice cracked with tears, but Arthur grabbed her hand and shook his head: “Don’t. Don’t.” “It’s… what I owe her.” He smoothed his hair, which I had messed up, stood up, and walked over to me. He pulled a gold card from his pocket and handed it to me: “The PIN is your birthday. I know things can’t be undone, but… anyway, I’m sorry.” I let out a cold laugh, looking at him with eyes full of nothing but ice and hatred. “Die early.” I forcefully snatched the gold card from his fingers, dropped that sentence, and turned to leave. 06 There was $110,000 on the card. I asked the delivery company boss for my final pay and quit my job. The 250-square-foot studio apartment was so small you could see from one end to the other in a single glance. Back then, Arthur and I moved out of the dorms because he said his physical symptoms of depression were getting worse and he wanted me to be with him every day. Originally, I wasn’t without my defenses against Arthur, who had barged recklessly into my life. But seeing him suffer from the same illness as my brother ultimately softened my heart and clouded my judgment. For a while, I couldn’t even distinguish whether my feelings for him were mostly love, or an urgent desire to make amends born from my infinite guilt toward my brother. I just crazily, obsessively wanted to help Arthur cure his depression. It was as if doing so would lighten the nightmare I couldn’t escape. Speaking of which, we didn’t accumulate a lot of things over the year. But the couple’s items we bought in pairs were glaringly painful to look at, so I just threw them all in the trash. Listening to the hum of the old air conditioner, I stared at the ceiling, slowly detaching from my relentless labor, and fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, I couldn’t count how many times I had dreamed of Leo in the bathtub. He lay bloodless in the crimson liquid, his entire body as pale as a porcelain doll, without warmth, without breath. The pill bottle had fallen by his limp fingertips. His closed, long eyelashes curved exactly as they did when he dozed off waiting for me to finish studying day after day. Only this time, he would never open his eyes again. He would never rub his sleepy eyes and ask when his sister was going to bed. On his phone, he had cleared his chat history with everyone, leaving only one final message for me: “Sister, I’m sorry,” and a transfer of $500. That was all the money he had left. The spring colors were vibrant that year when Leo, the golden boy, left in the best season. And I was trapped in that spring forever. 07 The rustling of a plastic bag behind the door jolted me awake. A man wearing a black dress shirt was crouching by the trash can, sneakily digging for something. “Who’s there?” The man froze, then slowly turned around. It was Arthur. He was still wearing a mask, and there were several bandages on his face. I rubbed my aching forehead, forgetting he still had a key to the apartment. The couple rings, mugs, watches, and souvenirs I had thrown in the trash that afternoon had all been fished out by him and neatly lined up on the floor. “Why are you taking these?” Arthur lowered his eyes at my words, hiding his emotions. “I came to pack a few last things to take with me.” “They’re all worthless junk. Young Master Sterling actually wants them?” Sitting up in bed, I took the opportunity to look around to see if there was anything else important. Since things had come to this, I planned to move back to the dorms and terminate the lease here. Arthur held the cheap silver couple ring in his hand, his thumb gently rubbing it. His voice was lonely and low: “Chloe, I know you don’t believe me, but I really mean it. I truly only trust you…” “No one has ever loved me so purely and genuinely. I don’t want to lose you.” I waved my hand, lowered my head, and scoffed. The scene from that afternoon replayed mockingly in my mind. “Mean what? Did you love me so much you specially had me deliver the post-coital meal? Should I thank you for that?” “I can explain what happened with Mia! Nothing has ever happened between us. Getting together was just something I agreed to casually back then.” “And I wanted to break it off with her a long time ago. I’ve already realized the person I truly love is…” “There’s no point in discussing this anymore.” I cut him off coldly, my eyes indifferent. Water dripped into the bucket in the bathroom. The knee-high faucet leaked year-round, and to save on the water bill, I always kept a plastic bucket underneath it. The money saved was just a few pennies. Talking about sincere love now was laughable. The moment the scam was exposed, regardless of whether his feelings were genuine, an uncrossable chasm had already formed between us. “Actually, Arthur, when you used my brother’s tragedy to get close to me, did you ever think that karma would come back to hit you one day?” “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer. I just frowned, opened the door, and gestured for him to leave. Seeing my resolute expression, a flash of hurt crossed his eyes. He then shoved the items lined up on the floor into his bag all at once and stood up. “Stop pretending to have depression.” “Because for every person like you in this world, the stigma surrounding depression gets worse, and the people who actually suffer find it harder to get help.” And the number of people like Leo Price would increase by one. After a long pause, the man in front of me slowly nodded. Then Arthur pulled a bag of ribs and lotus root from behind the door. He had seen my message about the extra dish. “Can you make lotus root soup for me one last time?” “No. Your family’s chef will make it much better.” “I only like the way you make it.” “Chloe, why can’t you just trust me one more time? Give me another chance?” His voice was already choked with tears. I never expected that Arthur, having reclaimed his high-and-mighty status as the prince of Green City, would show such a pleading expression. At this moment, nothing fit the script of his poverty simulation anymore. Regardless of the truth in his words, I remained unmoved and silent. He understood I was refusing. He wanted to grab my hand but eventually let his arm drop. Before walking out the door, Arthur’s eyes were red as he looked back at me. “Do you still love me?” “No.” “Can you love me again?” “No.” 08 After Arthur left, I started packing up the miscellaneous items in the apartment. Preparing to move back to school next week. Packing until the early hours of the morning, I slumped onto the sofa, my gaze falling on a box in the corner of the closet. It was locked. It contained the belongings my brother, Leo, left behind. We were twins. After our parents divorced, they started their own families. We were like the high-cost mistakes of our parents’ youth—no one wanted to foot the bill, and no one wanted to look back. So, from middle school onwards, Leo and I had to rely on each other to survive on minimum child support. Thinking of this made my heart ache unbearably. I gripped a jewelry box tightly in my hand. This was the birthday present Leo gave me the year he left—a hexagram necklace encrusted with small diamonds. He smiled radiantly when he gave it to me, personally fastening it around my neck. “Sister, this is the necklace I bought with my own money! Do you like it? It looks so beautiful on you, better than on a model!” “Even though this one isn’t expensive, I will work hard to put all the most beautiful gems in the world on my sister!” The teenage boy’s eyes were sincere. I poked his single dimple and nodded happily. Leo, I believed you, so I’ve been waiting. Underneath the foam insert of the jewelry box, something rattled when I shook it. I picked it up and found a key. When Leo gave it to me the year before last, this key wasn’t there. He must have put it in later. I took it out, thought for a moment, and my gaze fell on the chipped box in the corner. The lock clicked open. There were only four items inside. An oil painting full of withered sunflowers, an album by his favorite band, “Word and Wine,” a diary, and a piece of paper with an account name and password written on it. My eyes landed on the black diary. I picked it up and placed it on my lap. I started reading from the beginning. The earlier entries were just daily trivia and which girl at school had confessed to him that day. It was only natural. Leo was handsome and fair, with charming peach-blossom eyes, yet he carried an aloof, aristocratic aura. Since we were young, I had accepted many love letters and snacks on his behalf. But perhaps because we were both abandoned at a young age, despite receiving so much admiration, he remained sensitive and delicate, which was why he developed the habit of keeping a diary. After entering A University, Leo, with his naturally gifted voice, quickly became the lead singer of the school band. At every performance, there were fangirls screaming for him. As I delved deeper into the memories, my finger paused on a page. Because Mia’s name had suddenly appeared in the diary. And from then on, she appeared more and more frequently.

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After the car crash, my adoptive brother thought I had amnesia. To get rid of me, he pointed at his best friend, Liam Sterling, and played a cruel joke. “This is your boyfriend.” In my past life, I immediately exposed my adoptive brother’s lie and continued to cling to him desperately. My reward? A miserable death in a secret, heavily guarded psychiatric facility where he locked me away. Three years after my death, a severely depressed Liam Sterling slit his wrists at my grave. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the car crash. This time, I walked straight past my brother, opened my arms to Liam, and said, “Husband, hug me.” My adoptive brother accidentally crushed the porcelain mug in his hand. And the man standing in front of me? His eyes instantly turned red as his hoarse voice wrapped around me, pulling me into a desperate embrace. “Okay.” 1 The sharp, sterile scent of bleach stung my nose in the hospital room. My adoptive brother, Caleb Foster, and his best friend, Liam Sterling, stood side by side in front of my bed. I shook my pounding head. For a moment, my mind went blank, the scene before me feeling entirely surreal. “Where am I? Who am I?” Caleb, assuming the crash had wiped my memory, eagerly seized the opportunity. He pointed at the man next to him, a mocking glint in his eyes. “You are my sister, Chloe Foster. And this is your boyfriend, Liam Sterling.” I looked at Liam in absolute shock. The man’s sharp, handsome features were cast downward, tinged with a deep, quiet loneliness. He deliberately avoided my gaze, yet his eyes kept darting back to me, lingering with a heavy, unspoken restraint. He looked exactly as he had in my previous life. 2 In my past life, I had harbored a bitter, one-sided obsession with my adoptive brother for years, clinging to him until he couldn’t stand it anymore. When the car crash happened, he thought I had amnesia. To finally shake me off, he lied and said Liam was my boyfriend. Truthfully, when I first woke up, my memory was a bit fuzzy. But it all came rushing back very quickly. Faced with Caleb’s cruel prank, I didn’t think much of it at the time. Instead, out of pure stubbornness, I immediately exposed his lie, desperate to prove my mind was perfectly intact. I had timidly tugged at Caleb’s designer shirt, my eyes welling with tears. “Caleb, I don’t have amnesia. I’m not lying.” Unable to deal with my crying, Caleb had stiffened but pulled me into a hug. Just like he had done every time I cried over the past five years. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I made a mistake.” Overjoyed, I tossed the whole incident to the back of my mind. I went right back to orbiting around Caleb like a desperate satellite. Ever since I was sixteen, I realized my feelings for my adoptive brother had crossed a line. Whenever he brought a new girlfriend home, I would deliberately sabotage the relationship. Psychology books call it toxic possessiveness. I didn’t care. Caleb tacitly allowed all my outrageous behavior. Many times, when I drove those girls away, he was the one secretly pulling the strings behind the scenes. He indulged my tantrums and allowed my relentless pursuit. Once, blackout drunk, I threw my arms around Caleb and kissed him. He didn’t push me away. Instead, his body went rigid, and he let me take whatever I wanted from his lips. Back then, I foolishly believed that meant Caleb loved me too. But I ignored the most critical detail: he never actually admitted to having feelings for me. I kissed him for what felt like an eternity, until he suddenly snapped out of it, violently shoving me away and ordering me to get the hell out. Caleb had touched his swollen lips, a twisted, mocking smile forming on his face. “Chloe, how could you be in love with your own brother? You’re a sick freak.” I snapped awake as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. My entire body went numb. “I’m not. I didn’t mean to…” My weak defense trailed off. His voice rose sharply, dripping with interrogation. “You don’t have feelings for me? Really?” The sheer disgust in his eyes carved my heart to pieces. I couldn’t answer. Deep down, I did love Caleb. I was an orphan adopted from the foster system. He was the only person in the entire world who treated me well. How could I not fall for him? As if peering right into my darkest secret, Caleb’s disgust deepened. “Sick freaks like you belong locked up in a psychiatric ward for some serious rehabilitation.” 3 My thoughts snapped back to the present. I stared in bewilderment at Caleb, who was currently smirking at me. He met my gaze, making no effort to hide the amusement in his eyes. In a split second, goosebumps erupted all over my arms. An uncontrollable shiver racked my spine. I dug my fingernails hard into my palms, using the sharp pain to keep my sanity tethered. I looked him dead in the eye and enunciated every word clearly. “I understand, Caleb.” In this life, I refused to have any ties with him ever again. Everything between us ended the moment I died a miserable death in my past life. My days in that private psychiatric facility had been a living hell. Caleb visited me exactly once every two weeks. Unable to endure the daily beatings and electroshock “therapies,” I begged him on my knees to let me out. I had screamed until my throat bled, “Caleb, I was wrong! I don’t love you anymore! I swear!” But every time, Caleb simply looked down at me with cold, indifferent eyes, his voice devoid of any human emotion. “Chloe, it seems your illness is acting up again.” The moment he left, the agonizing torture would resume. I tried to contact anyone I knew, praying they would rescue me. But Caleb was thorough. He wiped my existence from the map. Not a single message ever made it out. Within six months, the abuse finally killed me. But after I died, Caleb lost his mind. He clung to my lifeless body and refused to let go. He said he regretted it. He said he loved me. He cried hysterically, repeating over and over how terrified and conflicted he had been. Falling in love with his adopted sister meant the elite circles of high society would look at him with disgust. My soul had stood right beside him, watching the whole pathetic display with icy detachment. I only felt nauseous. Even now, looking at Caleb triggered a physiological need to vomit. So, I shifted my gaze to Liam Sterling. I opened my arms wide, fighting back my tears, and put on my sweetest, most fragile voice. “Husband, hug me.” 4 Crash! The sound of shattering porcelain echoed sharply in the quiet hospital room. I glanced over. Caleb’s palm was sliced open, blood mixing with the hot coffee from the mug he just crushed, dripping onto the pristine floor. Disgusting. He stood frozen, all the mocking amusement wiped from his face. Replacing it was a storm of pure, unadulterated fury. But I didn’t care about him right now. All my attention was focused on Liam. The moment the word “Husband” left my lips, Liam’s eyes flushed a deep, rimmed red. His entire body went rigid as he looked up at me in utter shock. Disbelief and overwhelming emotion warred in his eyes, eventually settling into a profound, trembling vulnerability. His lips parted, his voice incredibly hoarse. He closed the distance between us in two rapid strides and pulled me tightly into his chest, burying his face in my neck. “Okay.” Caleb clenched his bleeding fist, the blood flowing faster. He coughed pointedly and raised his injured left hand, shoving it right into my line of sight. The metallic smell of blood made me wrinkle my nose. Liam smoothly shifted his body, pulling me to the side and wrapping his long trench coat around my shoulders to shield me. I peeked out from his chest, only for a large, warm hand to gently cover my eyes. “Don’t look. It’s gross,” Liam murmured. With that, Liam stood firmly between me and Caleb, glaring at him with naked hostility. “You know she’s terrified of blood and pain. Are you doing this just to make her sick?” A strange, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in my chest. I gently pushed Liam’s hand away and looked up at his pale, striking face. His features were flawless, exactly as I remembered. But looking closely, there was a sharper, more dangerous edge to him now. In my memories, Liam had always been the quiet, brooding type who kept to himself. This was the first time I had ever seen him ruthlessly call someone out. Clearly, Caleb was just as shocked. “Mind your own damn business.” Caleb rolled his eyes and pushed his trembling, bloody hand toward me again. He was waiting for my usual reaction. “Chloe, I’m hurt.” In the past, I would have panicked, frantically searching for the first-aid kit, crying massive tears while carefully bandaging his wounds. But now? I shrank deeper into Liam’s embrace and cast a look of utter revulsion at Caleb’s filthy hand. “Caleb, there are doctors and nurses in the hallway. I don’t have a medical degree.” “You—?!” I cut him off irritably. “I’m tired. I want to go home.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Liam’s lips twitching upward into a smirk. He looked like a smug golden retriever wagging its tail. 5 My body was fine. The doctors said I just needed bed rest at home. Liam absolutely refused to let my feet touch the floor. He insisted on carrying me out of the hospital. Caleb’s face was a mask of dark fury. At that moment, he finally snapped. He grabbed my arm in a vice grip. “Chloe, didn’t you say you wanted to go home?” I peeled his fingers off my arm one by one, leaving angry red marks on my pale skin. “I am. I’m going to my boyfriend’s home. Is there a problem, Caleb?” “Chloe Foster, you are going to regret this.” Caleb let out a self-deprecating laugh, the words practically hissed through his teeth. Regret? My only regret was not realizing my true feelings sooner. My only regret was acting like a total idiot in my past life, letting Caleb play me like a fiddle. Liam placed me gently into the passenger seat of his car and carefully buckled my seatbelt. He started the engine, slammed on the gas, and sped away. For the entire drive, his right hand tightly enveloped my fist, refusing to let go. When we arrived at his penthouse, I felt sticky and exhausted. I told him I wanted a bath. Liam attentively started the hot water. He pulled an unopened bottle of essential oil from the cabinet. When he opened it, the scent of jasmine filled the air—my absolute favorite. Next, he walked into his massive walk-in closet and pulled out a set of loungewear still bearing the price tags. It fit me perfectly. I was a little confused. Liam scratched the back of his neck, a deep flush spreading all the way to his ears. “I saw it while I was out shopping. I thought it would look good on you, so I just grabbed it.” “Did you just ‘grab’ all of this, too?” I pointed past him. Taking up more than half of the massive closet was a full wardrobe of women’s clothing. All brand new. All from the designers I loved most. “Don’t get the wrong idea, I was just… I was…” I blinked at him playfully, waiting for his excuse. Liam let out a heavy sigh, dropping the act entirely. “Is it a crime to buy clothes for my own girlfriend?” Was this really the deeply insecure, overly sensitive Liam from my memories? The guy who used to blush if I so much as said two words to him? In my past life, up until the day I died in that asylum, I barely interacted with him. It wasn’t until I was a ghost that I finally understood the terrifying depth of Liam’s love for me. 6 In my past life, my soul was tethered to the apartment I lived in before I died. I had moved out of the Foster family mansion the moment I realized I had feelings for Caleb. When Liam found out I was dead, he went straight to Caleb demanding answers. But what answers could he get? Caleb released a public statement claiming I had contracted a severe illness and passed away. Liam had no legal right to demand the truth or an autopsy. One night, Liam easily hacked the digital lock on my old apartment. I watched in shock as he stumbled through the door and collapsed into my bedroom. When my ghost drifted over, I saw his tall, broad frame curled into a tight ball on my mattress. His shoulders shook violently, a massive wet patch spreading across my pillow. I wanted to comfort him. But I didn’t even know where to begin. So I just sat on the edge of the bed and quietly watched him. Eventually, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I reached out to stroke his soft, messy hair. But I was just a ghost. I couldn’t truly touch him. My palm phased right through his dark strands. I patted the air above his head, trying to coax him like a child. “Liam, please don’t cry anymore. If you keep crying, I won’t be able to resist kissing you.” The handsome face resting on my pillow trembled violently for a split second. Liam’s eyes snapped open, massive tears rolling down his cheeks. Then, he squeezed them shut in absolute despair. “Liar.” The room fell dead silent. The only sound was his low, shattered sobbing echoing through the dark apartment. 7 From that day on, Liam moved into my apartment, keeping my ghost company. People called him crazy. I thought he was crazy, too. Because Liam developed a habit of talking to himself. One moment he’d be speaking to thin air, sharing something good that happened; the next, he’d be venting about a terrible day. I just stood there, listening quietly. Watching his cold, handsome face constantly stained with tears. Liam withered away day by day. I knew he was sick. The dining table was covered in mountains of prescription pill bottles. I begged him to keep living. But it was useless. He couldn’t hear a word I said. We lived together in that apartment for three whole years. Like two hopelessly lonely souls separated by an impenetrable wall. I couldn’t touch him, I couldn’t feel him, and he couldn’t hear me. The longer I stayed in the mortal realm, the more transparent my spirit became. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I faded from this world completely. Liam continued leaving early and coming home late. I was trapped in the apartment, so I had no idea what he was doing out there. Until the third anniversary of my death. Before Liam left the apartment, he deliberately turned on the TV and switched it to the local news channel. As he walked out the door, he turned back and stared deeply at the exact spot I was standing. My heart pounded with a sense of impending dread. Soon, a breaking news bulletin flashed across the screen: Caleb Foster, CEO of Foster Enterprises, killed in a fatal car collision. Police suspect a targeted hit. The suspect has fled the scene and a massive manhunt is underway. It was Liam. He was such an idiot! Panic surged through me. My soul erupted with an unprecedented burst of energy, shattering the invisible barrier trapping me in the apartment. Guided by some unknown force, I materialized right in front of my own gravestone. Liam was slumped against the cold marble, hugging my headstone, crying like a broken child. “Chloe, I finally avenged you.” Scattered around his feet were empty prescription bottles and crushed beer cans. I hovered around him, panicking helplessly. The massive cemetery was completely empty. No one was around to stop him. “Liam Sterling, I order you, you are not allowed to die! Do you hear me?!” My hysterical, ear-piercing scream seemed to briefly pierce the veil. Liam looked up, staring right into my eyes. The corners of his lips curved up into a breathtaking, satisfied smile. “You came to pick me up, didn’t you?” The moment the words left his mouth, he took a hunting knife and slashed it brutally across his scarred wrist. “Chloe, if there is a next life, I promise I’ll be brave enough to hold your hand.” 8 Thank God, the universe gave me a second chance. Looking at the handsome face just inches away from mine, my cheeks flushed, and my eyes filled with tears. The memory of his dying smile carved a bloody hole in my chest. It hurt so much I gasped. A warm hand gently cupped my cheek, using a thumb to carefully wipe away the tears pooling at the corners of my eyes. “Does your head still hurt?” The car crash hadn’t been serious. I only suffered a few minor scrapes. Compared to the torture I endured in my past life, it was absolutely nothing. I hadn’t been in pain for a while. But I didn’t want Liam to know about my rebirth. I nodded, greedily leaning into the warmth of his palm. “It hurts. It hurts so much. I think I need a kiss to make it better.” “So spoiled.” Liam licked his lower lip, his dark eyes shining brilliantly. “Is a kiss going to be enough?” Before I could even process the words, a hand tangled into the hair at the back of my head. An all-consuming kiss crashed down on me, completely dominating my senses. It felt like he was trying to crush me into his very bones. I was kissed until I was completely out of breath. Suddenly, my phone started ringing. It was Caleb. I didn’t want to answer it. But the man kissing me seemed utterly tireless, showing zero signs of stopping. Annoyed, I reached out blindly to reject the call, but my finger accidentally swiped ‘Answer’. “Chloe, I thought about it. You need to come back to the estate. The maids can take proper care of you there.” “Mmph…” A muffled moan accidentally slipped from my lips. Caleb lost his mind on the other end of the line. “Chloe, what the hell are you doing?! Answer me!” “Don’t get distracted.” I didn’t have the breath to reply to Caleb. Someone grabbed my hand and hit the end call button. Half an hour later, I was still wrapped around Liam like a koala. Violent pounding on the front door, mixed with furious swearing, echoed from the entryway. “Liam Sterling, who gave you the right to touch her?!” 9 Caleb was being incredibly annoying. I wanted to ignore him. But it didn’t sound like he was going to leave anytime soon. Pouting, I reluctantly untangled myself from Liam. He chuckled, ruffling my messy hair, his eyes curving into sweet crescents. “Be a good girl. I’ll go get rid of him.” With his lips still flushed and swollen, Liam walked over and opened the door. He had barely cracked it open when Caleb barged in like a rabid dog. His dark, venomous gaze swept over my body. It finally landed on the blooming red marks scattered across my neck. “You dared to touch her? Liam, you actually touched her?!” Caleb roared, pulling his fist back with pure hatred, aiming a vicious punch straight at Liam’s face. “She has amnesia, you psycho! You’re taking advantage of her!” I screamed. But Liam just casually tilted his head, effortlessly dodging the incoming fist. Was this the Liam I knew? Since when was he this agile? His counterattacks were ruthless, every punch connecting with a sickening thud. In less than ten seconds, Caleb was completely subdued and forcefully shoved out the front door. “Get the hell out! If you ever harass her again, I’ll kill you.” Slam. The heavy oak door shut, leaving me staring at Liam’s broad, intimidating back. When he turned around, the terrifying aura vanished, replaced by his usual gentle warmth. “Did I scare you?” It was honestly a masterpiece. I was dumbfounded. Wait a minute. Something wasn’t right with Liam. “Are you hiding something from me?” Liam scratched the back of his head, nodding shyly. “Yeah. You said you liked them, so I secretly started working out.” “Liked what?” He pointed a long, elegant finger at his own torso. I like abs? When did I ever say that? Then it hit me. In my past life, when I was a ghost trapped in his apartment, I had spent hours staring at his perfectly sculpted eight-pack, whining about how I could look but couldn’t touch. Wait, no, how could he possibly know what my ghost said? I eyed the man in front of me with deep suspicion. I immediately crashed into a pair of eyes brimming with amusement. “I know ‘PancakeLover99’ is your burner account.” Well, wasn’t he observant. It was true. I used to use that burner account to leave extremely thirsty comments on TikTok fitness videos. But did he have to expose me like this?! Where was my dignity? How was I supposed to try out my wicked ideas on him now? Whatever. I threw my pride out the window and rubbed my hands together like a cartoon villain. I stared hungrily at his rock-hard abs. “Can I touch?” His handsome face immediately turned crimson. After a long pause, a response as quiet as a mosquito came from above me. “Yeah.” 10 The next morning, I pushed myself up off his perfectly toned stomach. There were faint red indentations on Liam’s skin from where I had been sleeping on him. He was a remarkably still sleeper. He barely moved the entire night. When I was a spirit, I had slept in the same bed as him for three years. But this was the first time I had ever shared a bed with him in the flesh. Once the initial adrenaline wore off, a massive wave of shyness crashed over me. Blushing furiously, I tried to escape, but his hand wrapped around my ankle, dragging me right back on top of him. His thin lips brushed against mine, teasing and affectionate. “Feeling shy? You certainly didn’t look this way last night when you asked me to call you ‘Master’.” Trembling, I pushed against his chest. “I’m hungry.” Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his hands didn’t stop wandering. “Hmm?” I panicked and clarified. “My stomach is hungry.” Right on cue, my stomach let out a loud rumble. Liam looked deeply disappointed. He pulled his hands back, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at me playfully. “But this part of me is hungry, too.” “…” By the time we finally got dressed and walked out of the bedroom, his private chef had already prepared lunch and left. The entire table was covered in all my favorite dishes. As we ate, Liam asked me, “What do you want to do today?” “I have amnesia, remember? I don’t remember anything.” I decided to tease him. “Why don’t you tell me? What were our dates usually like?” Liam’s face turned pink, but he shook his head with a smug smile. “You just loved being with me. You never wanted to be apart.” “Okay, but where did we usually go?” I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, but Liam’s expression darkened for a split second, a flash of sorrow crossing his eyes. “We…” He fell into a deep silence, as if trying to recall something from a very distant past. “We liked staying at home.” Staying at home? Considering what happened this morning, my lower back was still aching. There was no way we were staying at home today. “Liam, let’s go to IKEA.” “Huh?” “This place is too cold and minimalist. I don’t like it.” Liam wasn’t a fan of lively spaces. His penthouse was practically empty. Everything was decorated in cold, sterile grays and blacks. It didn’t feel like a home at all. I wanted to paint this entire house with my colors. Not just by hanging a few dresses in the closet. I wanted to claim every inch of it. Because Liam was plagued by severe separation anxiety. If I stepped out of his sight for even a few seconds, he would panic and frantically search for me. Only when he saw I was safe would he let out a massive breath and pull me into a crushing hug. “Chloe, I was so scared I’d lost you again.” Tears would well in his eyes as he gasped for air. “When I can’t see you, it feels like a piece of me is missing.” So, I wanted to aggressively mark my territory, to fill that empty void in his heart with evidence of my existence.

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I love money, but I don’t love men who have more money than I do. So, torn between my successful high school sweetheart and a seemingly directionless bad boy with bleached blond hair, I ignored my parents’ objections and married the bad boy. Because he always knew how to make a quick buck, and he always let me take the lion’s share. Three years later, we closed another massive deal. When it was time to split the cash… My bad boy husband, Arthur, asked me: “Do you want the money, or do you want me?” “I want the money.” He didn’t take a single cent from that deal. Instead, he looked at me and said, “Then let’s get a divorce.” 1 I stopped counting the cash and looked at Arthur in surprise. He knew I loved money. In the past, we would always playfully argue over the split, but in the end, he would always let me take more, making sure I was just a little bit richer than him. We never fought. During our entire relationship, he had never even mentioned breaking up, yet today, he was asking for a divorce. I asked blankly, “Why do you want a divorce?” Standing by the door, he stopped in his tracks, wearing his usual playful grin. “You always get the bigger cut. It’s not fair.” His gaze fell on the remaining stack of cash on the table. He raised an eyebrow and said, “It’s all yours. I’m out of here.” My foot twitched toward the door. This wasn’t the first time he’d played a trick like this. He’d throw a little tantrum and then come right back. I looked back at the money on the table and pulled my foot back. Our profession was scouting out old streets and neighborhoods that were likely targets for redevelopment and buying up the properties. Take this latest deal, for example. We calculated that this specific street was primed for demolition, so two years ago, we started buying the old houses door-to-door. We paid above market value back then, but today, the massive redevelopment payout had just hit our accounts. But to my parents, without a physical storefront or a traditional 9-to-5 job, we were just irresponsible slackers. The next evening, in a rare display of domesticity, I cooked dinner and called him. “Stop messing around. I made dinner. Hurry up and come home.” On the other end of the line, he said he wasn’t coming back. I twirled the ends of my hair around my finger and threatened casually, “If you’re not back by midnight, I’m going to get back together with Liam.” With that, I hung up, a confident smile on my face. Arthur, who was usually easygoing, would explode and get insanely jealous the moment he heard my ex’s name. I sat leisurely on the couch, eating fruit and watching the news, while simultaneously researching which street we should buy up next. It wasn’t until the clock hit 11:30 PM that a wave of panic hit me. I had never felt this kind of imbalance before. I gripped my phone tightly, staring at the minutes slowly ticking away on the screen. Finally, at exactly midnight, there was a knock at the door. I practically sprinted to the entryway and pulled it open. “Miss, your courier package. Please sign here.” A courier in a blue uniform stood at the door. I opened the envelope. Inside was a formal divorce agreement. He was serious? The courier glanced at the document in my hands. “Miss, please sign quickly. I still have to return it. Who gets a divorce in the middle of the night anyway?” I felt a sting of humiliation. I grabbed a pen, hastily scribbled my signature, and slammed the door shut. Then, I immediately called Arthur, but he sent me straight to voicemail. I quickly opened our text thread and started typing furiously. [Liam has been visiting my parents a lot since I dumped him. He’s coming over for dinner tomorrow, and I’m going too. Now that we’re divorced, you finally can’t tell me what to do!] After hitting send, I felt like I had won another round. 2 The next day, I bought some gifts and headed to my parents’ house. When they saw it was me, a flash of surprise crossed their eyes, followed quickly by sheer joy. After all, I hadn’t been back since I ran away from home. Sitting on their sofa was Liam, my high school sweetheart. He straightened his clothes and looked at me, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Chloe, what are you doing here?” I shot him a look. “It’s my own home. Am I not allowed to come back?” He awkwardly scratched his head. During dinner, I kept my eyes on my phone and secretly sent Arthur a second message. [If you don’t reply in ten minutes, I’m marrying Liam.] After dinner, I stood on the balcony, letting the cool breeze hit me. Still no reply from Arthur. Liam walked over, handed me a glass of water, and said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong back then. I’m the reason you turned out like this…” Liam and I dated during our senior year of college. We were at the stage of discussing marriage. The day we broke up was the day that changed my entire life. I had lost a hundred-dollar bill he had given me, and I quietly apologized. But he berated me in front of our entire class, demanding to know what I was actually good for. I was annoyed, so I yelled back, “It’s just a hundred bucks! I’ll pay you back, okay?!” Instead of letting it go, he suddenly stood up from his desk, grabbed me by the throat, and slammed me against the wall. He had already started a small computer repair shop through his own hard work, and he had become incredibly tight-fisted with money. He told me that making money was hard. He said that even as a college senior, I was still mooching off my parents, and asked if I planned to mooch off him for the rest of my life. I didn’t understand why he was acting like that and continued to argue back. That’s when he slapped me right across the face in front of everyone. Arthur, a notorious slacker from the neighboring department, happened to be walking past our classroom. He rushed in, knocked Liam to the ground, grabbed my hand, and dragged me away to the school track. When I called my parents crying to complain, they both sympathized with Liam’s struggles and even told me that he was right. That day, I hugged my knees and cried my eyes out. I finally understood the importance of money. Spending other people’s money meant they could look down on you. So, I decided I wanted to make money. I wanted to be richer than all of them. That way, no matter how I spent my money, no one could point a finger at me. I didn’t go home for the next few days. Arthur booked a hotel room for me, and I stayed there alone. At night, he took me out clubbing, blowing thousands in a single night. During the day, he took me to fancy restaurants, dropping hundreds on a single meal. At the time, I thought, He’s an orphan. How does he have so much sketchy money? I even asked him if he was doing something illegal. He just sneered. “Money is everywhere, you just need the brains to see it.” After that, I started hanging out with him, demanding he show me how to make money. He always gave in to me, always letting me take the bigger cut. 3 My parents watched Liam and me standing on the balcony and tentatively spoke up: “Chloe, it’s been many years. Liam has been waiting for you.” I knew exactly what they were hinting at. “I’m divorced,” I said flatly. Liam immediately asked if I could give him another chance. I pointed to the old street right across from my parents’ house, my eyes gleaming. “Acquire this entire street, and I’ll marry you. All you have to do is negotiate; I’ll provide the capital.” I could see Liam was hesitant. To him, this kind of business was unethical because it involved keeping secrets from the sellers. I grabbed my purse and turned to leave. “If it’s too hard, forget it. You don’t love me as much as Arthur did anyway.” As I pulled the front door open, Liam’s voice rang out behind me: “I can do it!” I let out a soft chuckle and walked out. Any street I set my sights on, Arthur would have undoubtedly noticed before me. So, the news that I would marry Liam if he acquired this street would definitely reach Arthur’s ears. Just as I expected, a year later, right as Liam was about to finalize the deals, someone swooped in and snatched it out from under him. Every single homeowner who had agreed to sell backed out. I was standing at the corner of the street when Arthur, who had vanished for a whole year, suddenly appeared in front of me with his signature slacker swagger. “You want this street too?” I rolled my eyes at him. “Boss Arthur has already taken it down. What are you pretending for?” He put on a look of total bewilderment. “I just heard the news and came to check it out.” I looked at him closely. His formerly bleached blond hair had long been dyed back to black. He didn’t look like he was lying. But in our line of work, lying without batting an eye was the most basic skill. With every sentence we exchanged, I questioned its authenticity. For the next few days, I followed him around everywhere, eating and drinking on his dime. Every day, I would ask him, “Did you really acquire this street? Transfer it to me.” But his lips were sealed tight. He always just flashed that playful grin and gave me ambiguous answers. I didn’t contact him for the following week because I ended up lying in a private hospital bed. Acute kidney failure. When he rushed in, the playful grin was completely gone. He looked at my pale lips and gripped my hand tightly. His expression had never been so serious. “Why so sudden?” I spoke slowly and weakly, “Maybe it’s my own stubbornness. You know my love for money has become a sickness… “Since I’m dying anyway, can you finally tell me if you acquired that street?” He whispered anxiously, “How can you still be thinking about that street at a time like this?” Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. “Did you acquire it or not?! I’m dying, and you still won’t tell me?!” Arthur stood up abruptly. “I’ll come see you later.” He turned and walked toward the door. Listening to his retreating footsteps, I quickly grabbed a mirror to check my “sick” makeup. Good, it was flawless. For a second, I thought he had caught on. A day passed, and he still hadn’t come back to see me. Bored lying in bed, I started wandering around the private hospital. I noticed a door slightly ajar. The person lying in the hospital bed inside looked exactly like Arthur. I gently pushed the door open and walked in. He lay weakly on the bed, slowly opening his eyes to look at me. “You’re here…” I frowned deeply and sat on the edge of his bed. “What happened to you?” He parted his lips slightly. “I went to the doctor yesterday to see if I could give you one of my kidneys… but the results came back…” I looked at him sternly. “What were the results?” He let out a weak chuckle. “Just like you, I also have acute kidney failure.” 4 I was stunned. Looking at his frail expression, I couldn’t bring myself to say another word. He patted the back of my hand. He said, “I’ll give you three chances. You can ask me three questions. Consider it my final gift to you.” The questions were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. “Just focus on resting for now.” He shook his head. “I’ll be discharged tomorrow anyway. Lying in the hospital won’t do any good. Want to go together?” I nodded. The next day, we both checked out and went back to his place. His condition today genuinely looked like a sick person’s—at least much more convincing than mine. My nose stung with unshed tears. Just like before, he held his laptop, researching which old streets were ripe for acquisition. I sat on the desk, watching him. The first question: “That street, did you acquire it?” He put down the laptop, crossed his arms, and looked at me. “Why do you want to know so badly?” Looking at his haggard face, my eyes welled up with tears. I reached out, hugged him, and started crying. “I don’t know why you wanted to divorce me. If you admit you acquired the street, it proves you still love me.” He reached out, stroked my cheek, and nodded. “I acquired it. When I heard you were going to marry him, my heart broke. I couldn’t stand to see you marry him.” I looked up at him. “Then why did you divorce me?” He gently wiped away my tears and smiled. “Didn’t I tell you? You always took the bigger cut.” I shook my head. “That question doesn’t count. Let me change it. Do you really have acute kidney failure?” He pulled me into his embrace, stroked my hair, and said in a serious, low voice: “You are the woman I love most… I used to wonder if, when we got old, we’d still bicker every day. “When I found out I had this disease, I just wanted to leave the best things I had for you before I go.” He cupped my face, looking at me with deep affection. I froze, nodding slowly as tears welled in my eyes. The next second, he couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. The haggard look on his face vanished instantly. 5 I pushed him away angrily. “You lied to me again! I knew it couldn’t be such a coincidence!” He leaned close to my face and whispered, “What about you?” I lifted my chin defiantly. “Of course mine is real! I’m dying and you’re still lying to me!” He shrugged. “Then mine is real too.” I sat on the couch, fuming. “Since neither of us is going to tell the truth, let’s just not talk at all!” He smiled and shook his head. After calming down, I continued, “That last question didn’t count either. I still have two questions left, right?” He nodded. “Whatever you say.” I smiled happily. “Can you give me the contract for that street too?” “Sure.” He took me up to the second-floor bedroom and handed me the contract. I grabbed the contract and happily threw my arms around his neck. He responded enthusiastically. “Now you’re richer than me again.” When we woke up the next morning, I reached for the contract on the nightstand, reading it over and over, a smile playing on my lips. “Time to get up. Come with me somewhere,” he said as he pushed the door open. I waved the contract in my hand. “Don’t forget you have to come with me to the notary office to transfer the contract.” After getting ready, he took me to a jewelry store and asked me to help him pick out a wedding ring. I teased him, “What, are you proposing again?” I used to constantly complain about the ring he picked when he first proposed. It seemed he had finally learned his lesson and was letting me pick it myself. He laughed. “It’s not for you. Just help me pick.” Naturally, I picked the biggest diamond ring in the store. After paying, he slipped the ring into his pocket. Then, we went to the notary office to process the contract transfer. After handing the documents to the clerk, I turned to look at Arthur. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face. It was the exact same expression he had the last time he proposed. I cleared my throat and said, “Wait here. I’m going to the restroom.” I quickly walked to the restroom, washed my hands multiple times, and applied a thick layer of hand cream, prepping myself for the impending proposal. After fussing for half an hour, I held out my fingers. Seeing they looked soft and delicate, I walked back to the counter, thoroughly satisfied. The clerk handed the contract back to me and stated, “This is invalid. It’s a fake contract.” “What?” I took the contract suspiciously, rapidly scanning the clauses and signatures. “That’s impossible. Are you sure you didn’t read it wrong?…” Just as I was about to argue with the clerk, I looked over at Arthur. He couldn’t suppress his smirk anymore. I had been tricked again. I furiously slammed the contract against his chest, screaming, “Arthur, is playing me for a fool really that fun for you?!” He looked at me with that same punchable grin. “I just love seeing you angry.” More and more people in the notary office stopped to watch the crazy woman and the calm man. I took a deep breath. “If you keep this up, don’t even think about me marrying you again!” Arthur stood up. “When did I ever say I wanted you to marry me again?” 6 I pointed at the ring in his pocket. “Isn’t that for me?” Arthur chuckled. “We’re already divorced. Why would it be for you?” In the past, if a joke went this far, he would immediately start coaxing me. But today, he didn’t. Just as I was about to speak again, my parents walked into the notary office with Liam. Liam excitedly handed me a contract. “Chloe, I finally managed to secure this contract! Don’t worry, you don’t have to pay a cent. It’s a gift.” Before I could even speak, he handed the contract to the clerk to process the transfer. I watched the clerk’s serious expression. “Yes, this one is authentic. We will now transfer it to Chloe Price’s name.” Arthur leaned in close and whispered, “I told you I didn’t acquire it, but you didn’t believe me. It seems he’s really changed. Congratulations.” My eyes widened slightly in shock. I quickly snatched my ID back from the clerk. “There’s no need to transfer it.” Leaving my confused parents and Liam behind, along with that smiling Arthur, I walked out of the notary office alone. Back in my car, I stared blankly at the entrance of the notary office. It seemed it really had all been my own wishful thinking. I never believed Arthur would genuinely care about how we split the money. I had always assumed he snatched that old street away just for me. I never expected he only admitted to it because I was annoying him so much. I let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. All those years of him taking care of me had given me a blind, arrogant confidence. Tap. Tap. Tap. Someone knocked on my window. My parents and Liam had somehow found their way to my car. I unlocked the doors. They got in and immediately started discussing my wedding with Liam. I cut them off. “How did you know I was at the notary office?” My parents looked at each other. Liam stayed silent for a moment before saying, “We originally came to ask about the contract transfer process, and then we saw you.” “The old street was already acquired by someone else. How did you get it? And where did you get so much money?” Liam didn’t speak. My mom told me that to get this street and marry me, Liam had gone to the previous buyer’s house every single day, begging them. He eventually acquired it by paying a 20% premium over the original purchase price. As for the money, he transferred ownership of all his storefronts, sold his old family home, and took out a massive bank loan just to buy that old street for me. My mom told me not to let him down. After dropping my parents off, I went downstairs alone. My mind was a mess. Everything happening recently was slowly spiraling out of my control. Liam chased me downstairs and called out my name. 7 He said, “Chloe, I know with your wealth now, you don’t lack a single street. Maybe that day you just said it casually.” I looked at him coldly. “If you know I don’t want to get married, then why did you come down?” He paused, then said, “Putting that one incident aside, we were really good together before, right?” I didn’t answer. He continued, “The things you and Arthur do, even though they aren’t illegal, they always involve deceiving people…” I cut him off. “Shut up! What do you mean ‘deceiving people’? The money we offered was above market value! It was a willing transaction between buyer and seller.” He kept arguing with me, saying that if they hadn’t sold to us, they would have made even more money when the demolition happened. He also told me that this kind of work looked shady to outsiders, and it would be embarrassing if relatives or friends asked about it and we couldn’t give a straight answer. I covered my ears and walked quickly toward my car. He continued babbling behind me. They completely didn’t understand. Why should I care what other people think? I have financial freedom now; I can go wherever I want. And they definitely didn’t understand how much judgment and mockery Arthur, an orphan, had endured to get to where he was. Besides, the people we contacted… some had family members who were sick and couldn’t afford treatment. Some needed to put their kids through school, or had whole extended families crammed into a tiny, dilapidated house, or needed money for a bride price. Like us, they didn’t know for sure if the demolition would happen. They couldn’t afford to gamble, and they couldn’t just wait around doing nothing. They had tried to sell their houses themselves, but buyers lowballed them relentlessly. So they willingly sold to us. Were we in the wrong? The moment I opened my car door, Liam stopped me. “Have you still not forgiven me?” I said coldly, “Why should I forgive you? The most humiliating moment of my life was given to me by you.” I shoved him hard and got into the car. He said, “Arthur doesn’t even want you anymore.” My hand, about to close the door, stopped. I said quietly, “Even so, you still won’t get a turn.” I will never forget that day after Arthur hit him. Liam rallied a group of “good students” to boycott and slander Arthur, reporting him to the administration and causing a massive scene. Because of that, Arthur was forced to drop out. Luckily, he was strong, and he even comforted me, telling me not to blame myself. In the rearview mirror, Liam was holding his phone, looking incredibly anxious. These people… when I had no money, they constantly criticized me for living off my parents. When I got rich, they hovered around me, constantly analyzing the so-called “pros and cons.” After leaving school, Arthur and I had relied solely on each other. We had no friends, but we thoroughly enjoyed our life as a duo. At a red light, my car stopped right outside the jewelry store Arthur had taken me to that afternoon. I stared inside, lost in thought. Right. Neither he nor I had any friends. So who was that ring for? Maybe he was just messing with me again this afternoon. Maybe he didn’t actually want to hand me over to Liam. Holding onto the confidence built from years of relying only on each other, I made a U-turn and drove toward Arthur’s house. I used my key to open his front door. The first thing I saw was all the furniture covered in white dust sheets. I walked through the entire house. He had left. I pulled out my phone and called him. It went straight to voicemail. I could only comfort myself, thinking he must have gone out of town to scout a new project. We used to do this—randomly disappear for a few days. We would go to other cities to investigate old streets, and if we could secure a deal, we would immediately tell the other person the good news. Of course, these post-disappearance “surprises” weren’t really surprises to us anymore, but we always played along, faking an exaggerated look of shock. I pulled off the white sheets and moved into his house.

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Everyone in the underworld knew that I was the one untouchable weakness of syndicate boss Damien Thorne. Years ago, when I was taken hostage by a rival cartel, Damien risked being gunned down by the feds. He threw away his weapons and gave up his entire fortune just to ransom me back. To ensure no one ever dared to bully me, he danced on the razor’s edge between the criminal underworld and the law. When I got pregnant, he practically waited on me hand and foot, terrified to even let my feet touch the floor. Rumors constantly swirled that he was keeping a pampered canary in a gilded cage on the side, but I never believed them. Until his little bird decided she didn’t want to follow the rules and fluttered right into my face. To beg for my forgiveness, Damien chopped off one of his own fingers. The very next day, that same canary slapped an ultrasound photo onto my lap. “Damien wanted a baby with me so badly, he practically wore himself out~” … “Scarlett… the doctor said your body was already prone to miscarriage… combined with this severe emotional shock… the baby is gone…” “The baby is gone… the Boss is going to lose his mind… he wanted this child for ten whole years…” After Damien’s canary left, my anger and grief triggered a massive hemorrhage. I literally miscarried from the sheer heartbreak. My best friend, Becca, drove me to the city hospital. She stayed by my side, comforting me every second, terrified I might do something drastic. Only she knew how much I had wanted this baby. Since the day I found out I was pregnant, this child had been treated like absolute royalty. Because I was high-risk, I stayed indoors for months, drinking herbal supplements and resting constantly just to keep the baby safe. When Damien found out I was pregnant, the ruthless boss actually cried tears of joy. He issued a syndicate-wide decree: anyone who upset me or endangered this child would face a fate worse than death. So how ironic was it that the one who ultimately destroyed everything was him? My mind was plagued by the arrogant, gloating face of his canary. Yesterday. Damien’s mistress, Chloe Vance, came to me with a video of her and Damien tangled in the sheets. Seeing her spoiled, arrogant face, I calmly forwarded the audio of our conversation to Damien. He rushed to the scene in a blind panic. He kicked and beat Chloe until she was curled into a ball on the floor, and his men eventually had to drag her away. Holding the explicit video of them, I choked back a sob. “The rumors outside… they’re all true?” In that moment, he looked so filthy to me. I didn’t want him anymore. But Damien simply dropped to his knees. Before I could even react, he pulled a switchblade and sliced off his right pinky finger right in front of me, offering his blood as penance. “Scarlett, it’s my fault. I betrayed you. Please forgive me. Just this once, I’m begging you, Scarlett.” We had been in love for ten years. How could my heart not ache? I agreed to give him one last chance. But today, Chloe found me for the second time. Seeing the fresh hickeys on her neck and the ultrasound photo she threw in my face, I felt like Damien had driven a knife straight into my spine. So this was how he had “handled” Chloe after he left yesterday. Ten years of love, and we finally had a baby. I had fantasized endlessly about our beautiful future as a family of three. I swallowed my pride and forgave you. I only asked that you never do it again. Was that really so hard? The baby was gone. Everyone at the hospital expected me to break down in hysterical sobs. But my voice was eerily calm. “It’s gone… then it’s gone.” I made Becca swear to hide the miscarriage from Damien. And I booked a ticket on a cruise ship bound for Belize. When I returned to the penthouse, the air was filled with the rich aroma of slow-cooked beef stew. Damien saw me walk in and presented the stew to me like a prized treasure. He clearly had no idea that Chloe had paid me a second visit today. “Where did you go? You need to rest at home while you’re pregnant. If you need anything done, just have the boys handle it.” I stared at that incredibly gentle, caring face, searching for a trace of guilt. But his perfect, practiced composure made my blood run cold. Seeing my icy glare, the ruthless syndicate boss who held absolute power in the underworld dropped to his knees without hesitation. “Are you still mad at me? If anything happens to the baby… I’ll go insane, Scarlett.” “You know I only love you. I can’t live without you…” “I already had my men throw Chloe into the bay. I swear, nothing like this will ever happen again.” He pulled out his phone, showing me a video of his men supposedly tossing Chloe into the dark waters. The stump of his pinky finger was still seeping blood through the bandages. But this pathetic, groveling display was just a cheap theatrical performance. Even now, he was still trying to play me for a fool. Damien, are you trying to tear my soul apart? When I woke up, Damien was gone. The smell of his cologne lingered on the sheets, making me feel physically nauseous. I got dressed and went to an offline visa center nearby to finalize my travel documents. Not long after, a text from Damien popped up on my screen. [I threw a celebration party for you today. I’ll come pick you up soon.] On my way back from the visa center, I happened to pass by the front hall of one of his exclusive clubs. From a distance, I saw the brightly lit venue. As I got closer, I heard that familiar, sickly-sweet voice. “I’m so jealous of Scarlett. She gets a whole party thrown by you. When will I get a celebration like this?” Through the crack in the heavy oak doors, I saw Damien’s face darken as he pinched Chloe’s chin. “As long as you don’t make a scene in front of Scarlett, I’ll give you whatever you want. Except a title. You will never be my wife.” Chloe whined playfully, “I want that pigeon-blood ruby necklace Scarlett was wearing, please~” Damien agreed easily. “As long as you aren’t stupid enough to run to her again, you’ll have everything she has.” So, his furious rage yesterday was entirely for my benefit. I thought he would reign it in after the last incident. I thought he would cherish my forgiveness and never cross that line again. But he never thought he was wrong. He just thought he hadn’t hidden his cheating well enough. At that exact moment, my phone buzzed. It was a call from Chloe. She clearly called me on purpose so I could hear them flirting. “Alright, I have to go pick Scarlett up now,” Damien’s voice echoed through the speaker. Chloe tugged on his collar, pulling him toward a side room. “Stay with me a little longer~ Once she gets here, you’ll have to play the devoted husband all day~” “No, I need to get her. She just got pregnant, she’s fragile. I can’t risk a miscarriage.” “You only care about her baby~ Did you forget I’m carrying your child too? Why don’t you dote on me?” “Of course I dote on you. You’re my baby, aren’t you?” I pretended I had just arrived at the venue and spoke loudly to the guards outside. “What are you guys celebrating?” “The Boss said he threw this party to lift your spirits during your pregnancy, ma’am.” I found it hilarious. Everyone was helping Damien lie to me. I glanced at the frosted glass of the VIP room. I couldn’t see their faces, but the overlapping shadows on the floor were rhythmically moving. It was obvious what they were doing. Hearing my voice outside, Damien tried to stop Chloe. “Alright, that’s enough. If Scarlett finds out, the consequences will be more than I can handle.” “Oh come on~ Doesn’t the risk make it hotter? Plus, it’s been so long since we did it here~” “If she knew we’d been sleeping together for three years, she’d definitely be pissed.” “If you keep misbehaving, I’m going to have to punish you.” After that, Damien stopped talking. The phone only transmitted their continuous, breathy moans. My fingernails dug so hard into my palms that my whole body shook with pain. Damien… this is how you trample me, over and over again. A full half-hour later, Damien emerged from the side room, pretending he had been handling “syndicate business.” His face was still flushed with the afterglow of his session with Chloe, wearing that same gentle smile he always gave me. In that moment, it made me want to vomit. He placed his hand on my stomach, his palm still radiating Chloe’s body heat. “Is the baby behaving? Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, Scarlett?” Ten years. For ten years, Damien had whispered in my ear every night, going crazy for a child. But none of that stopped him from using hands that had just been all over another woman to play the loving father. The deep love and happiness I thought I had were built entirely on secrets and lies. Peeling back that glamorous facade revealed a truth so disgusting it was hard to breathe. After the party ended, Damien made an excuse about urgent syndicate business and left early. I guessed he was going back to comfort his hidden canary in the VIP room. Bang! Bang! Suddenly, two gunshots rang out across the hillside estate. I looked up numbly, watching several men from a rival cartel charging straight at me. I watched as one raised his gun, aiming right at my face. Just when I thought I was going to die, a familiar figure threw himself in front of me. It was Damien. As he tackled me, the assassins fired several more shots. Damien shielded my body as we tumbled down the rocky slope. From start to finish, he never let me go. He took a bullet to the left side of his chest, his body torn and bleeding from the sharp rocks. Yet all he did was hold me and whisper, “Don’t be afraid.” The infiltrators were quickly subdued. They were just advance scouts who had managed to slip past security and happened to run into me. Years ago, Damien had killed the pregnant wife of a rival border boss. Now, that boss was desperate for revenge. In the hospital, I stared blankly at Damien lying in the bed. You were willing to give your life for me… so why did you treat my heart like garbage? His injuries were severe, but on the third day, he insisted on getting out of bed. He claimed he had a critical negotiation with a rival boss. Hearing those words, the tiny shred of softness that had briefly returned to my heart turned to ash. Seeing me stare at him, guilt flashed in his eyes. “It’s extremely important. I have to go.” “Okay,” I said lightly. For the past few days, wedding supplies had been moving through the syndicate headquarters. Coupled with the digital wedding invitation Chloe had smugly texted me last night, how could I not know where he was really going? Maybe Chloe was right. Damien didn’t love me anymore. And as I looked at his face, all I could see was the nauseating image of him entangled with her. Soon after, I boarded my cruise ship bound for Belize. Ding— A text from Damien: [I’m at the negotiation site, Scarlett.] As if desperately trying to prove himself, he sent me a staged photo of a tense meeting, exactly at the time he was supposed to be arriving at Chloe’s wedding. How did I know it was fake? Because I was watching the wedding live. Chloe was video-calling me, broadcasting the event. The wedding was held in an underground bunker, clearly to keep it hidden from me. Damien was wearing a tuxedo. The blood from his chest wound had already seeped through the fabric from the physical exertion. Yet even bleeding out, he still attended his wedding to Chloe. On the live stream, Damien stood at the altar. After the priest finished the vows, Damien kissed Chloe’s hand and looked at her with deep affection. “I do.” I laughed at my own pathetic stupidity. When he told me this morning that he had an urgent negotiation, I actually harbored a tiny, pathetic shred of hope. Maybe he really did have an emergency? With a man like Damien, the more you trust him, the more he treats you like a fool. After stepping off the altar, Damien texted me: [The negotiation went smoothly. What do you want for dinner?] Me: [Are you really at a negotiation?] The moment I hit send, my phone blew up with frantic calls and texts: [I really am! Wait for me to get back, I’ll explain everything.] On the livestream, Damien looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He didn’t even care that the wedding was ongoing. He frantically tore off his tuxedo jacket and sprinted out of the venue like his life depended on it. But I had already left the country. Even though my ship was in international waters, Damien’s syndicate had massive reach. To ensure I could slip away right under his nose in Belize, I composed myself and sent another text to distract him. [I’ve been feeling out of breath lately. Becca and I are going to take a walk around the border town. We’ll be back tonight.] [I want beef stew for dinner. I want you to cook it yourself.] Sending those texts was just a way to buy myself time. …

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391833”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My psychotic husband loved me more than life itself. To get me pregnant, he worked at it every single night for eight years. On the day I went into premature labor, I was rushing to the hospital when I collided with a mafia boss’s wedding procession. The impact was so severe that my baby’s head was crowning. Yet, I saw my husband holding the bride, telling his lackeys nearby, “What terrible luck. Crashing my wedding and spilling blood. Bury her alive.” A group of men started kicking and punching my pregnant belly. My husband completely ignored my cries for help. Before he left, I heard him mutter, “Pregnant women are the most annoying. They never stop making a scene.” … “Was she attacked by terrorists?! How could a pregnant woman be bleeding this heavily without her husband looking after her?!” “The situation is critical! It could cost both their lives! Notify the surgeons immediately for emergency surgery!” The obstetricians couldn’t fathom what I had endured upon seeing my horrific state. They never would have guessed that my own husband was the one who ordered me to be brutalized like this. Before today, I had absolutely no idea that Arthur Sterling was a mafia boss in T-country. He ordered his men to kick and punch my stomach. While I whimpered for help, he was only worried I would jinx his wedding. “Seeing blood is the worst taboo for a wedding! Such an auspicious day ruined by this unlucky trash.” He quickly ordered them to drag me to the back of the mountain. Then, he held the other woman’s hand tightly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take you to the temple to cleanse the bad luck later.” My heart felt like it was tearing apart. It seemed my bleeding and miscarriage were the greatest desecration of their wedding. Weren’t you the one who begged for this child every single night? If only you had looked back, you would have recognized me. Arthur wished my unborn child and I wouldn’t make a single sound, so we wouldn’t pollute their wedding. I desperately shielded my stomach, but it only made them more excited to abuse my unborn child. When Arthur first married me, he treated me like his most prized possession. I was with him for eight whole years. To have a child, he worked at it every night. When he found out I was pregnant, he wept tears of joy. Why are you now killing our child with your own hands? Lying on the freezing operating table, surrounded by the clinking of cold surgical instruments, every sound tortured my nerves. I wondered if it was possible that Arthur had seen my message about going into premature labor and was looking for me. Just then, a familiar voice reached my ears. “Hurry! Save my wife!” I thought Arthur had remembered me. With great effort, I lifted my heavy eyelids and looked through the glass door of the delivery room. But I saw Arthur frantically holding the bride’s pristine white arm, burning with anxiety. Meanwhile, the hospital had been trying to contact my family, but his phone was unreachable. “Are you okay? I told you to let the subordinates handle those things! What if it leaves a scar?” As he spoke, Arthur’s voice actually trembled. So he could cherish another woman this deeply, yet leave me, heavily pregnant, home alone. The reason I couldn’t reach him was probably that he was afraid I’d interrupt his wedding… And I, rushing to the hospital because of premature labor, was bruised all over by the beating Arthur ordered. I had held on this long solely by the sheer willpower to give birth to this child. “Are there no obstetricians available?!” Lying under the pale lights of the operating room, I couldn’t even speak. I could only feel the tearing pain and my blood slowly draining away, but there was no doctor to deliver the baby. “Still can’t reach the family? How could a pregnant woman go into premature labor without anyone looking after her?! This is a high risk for both mother and child!” Because there was no signature, the doctors didn’t dare proceed with the surgery. “There’s no time for signatures! Push her into the OR and have the surgeons perform emergency surgery!” My consciousness blurred. I couldn’t make out the faces around me. Vague, dark shadows flashed past, like demons from hell coming to claim my life and my child’s. “That woman who crashed the wedding today seems to be in this hospital too,” the bride exclaimed, hearing the commotion. “Why isn’t she dead yet? I should have ripped her head off right then and there,” Arthur cursed viciously. Couldn’t reach the family? The man cursing me and my unborn child to die at the end of the hallway… Wasn’t that my unreachable husband? In that moment, Arthur seemed utterly rotten to me. Medical care in this area wasn’t advanced, and this hospital was remote. I could feel that the temporary surgeon called in wasn’t very experienced. “The head is out! The baby is still alive! Quick! Push!” Hearing the baby was alive reignited my hope. But at that critical moment, Arthur’s harsh voice rang out from outside. “Quacks! You’re all quacks! What do you mean ‘minor cut’?! She’s bleeding so much! What if she gets tetanus?! Call all the surgeons out here immediately!” Someone objected, “You can’t. Some doctors are delivering babies, they can’t be interrupted.” My heart felt pierced by a sharp knife. I only hoped Arthur would let me and the baby be, so I could give birth safely. If only for the sake of the eight years we spent wanting this child together. Bang— Then I heard a gunshot echo through the hospital. Followed by Arthur’s low roar: “Get all the doctors out here right now! Now!” The next second, the operating room door was violently thrown open. A subordinate next to him whispered to the second-in-command, “Boss… isn’t this the woman in the photo in the Big Boss’s wallet? The Big Boss has a wife back in the US. Could this be her?” The subordinate was quickly silenced with a glare and a low reprimand, “Do you think the Big Boss wouldn’t recognize his own wife?! We just follow orders!” Through the glass door, I could just make out the bride’s blurry face. I remembered. She was Arthur’s “first love.” People in our circle used to say Arthur only married me to spite her. But his crazy obsession with me after we married made me believe he truly loved me. My baby was stuck in the birth canal. I could feel him kicking inside me, trying to use his own strength to be born. I could feel his vibrant life, but his presence was growing weaker and weaker. He had always been playful in my belly, constantly kicking me with his tiny feet. I had imagined his face countless times. But because there was no doctor to deliver him, he eventually stopped struggling. Outside the delivery room, over a dozen doctors swarmed around the woman in the wedding dress. Fussing over a cut on her hand that was less than four inches long. The man orchestrating all this was my husband. Hearing there was a baby waiting to be delivered inside, Arthur sneered, “It’s just a pregnant woman. If she dies, she dies. If the husband isn’t even around during pregnancy, nobody wants the kid anyway. Hurry up and give my wife some painkillers!” With that, his gaze returned to Mia’s wound, blowing on it and licking it, his heart aching for her. Yes, a pregnancy where the husband isn’t around, a child no one wants. I looked outside the delivery room at the seemingly perfect newlyweds. Their happiness was blinding. It was as if I was just a damned, buzzkill pregnant woman. In fact, Arthur would probably be happier if the child died. Thinking of this, despair soaked through every bone in my body. Outside the delivery room, Mia’s wound was bandaged and practically healed. “It doesn’t hurt anymore! Thank you, Arthur~” Mia’s voice was delicate and soft. “Arthur~ I heard the placenta can boost fetal development~ Did you forget~ I’m carrying your baby too~” “Go, rip her placenta out, dry it, and prepare it for Mia’s medicine,” Arthur ordered with disgust. “If she’s too incompetent to give birth, she deserves to die.” Next, two heavily tattooed men walked in. I lay numbly on the bed, despair leaking from the corners of my mouth. I didn’t even have the thought of struggling anymore. After entering the delivery room, the subordinate from earlier said to the second-in-command, “I really think this woman is the Big Boss’s wife. Should we ask him? They look exactly alike.” He was immediately scolded, “Are you stupid? Even if she is his woman, she’s just a breeding machine. He probably got tired of her and did this on purpose. Didn’t you see how frantic he was for Mia? If it was true love, he wouldn’t have left her alone late in her pregnancy! Do you think that’s possible?” With that, they violently ripped my baby out, forcefully tearing the connected placenta. Just because Arthur wanted to use my placenta to safeguard his bride’s pregnancy. It hurts… It hurts… It really hurts… Even though the pain had numbed me, watching my suffocated baby thrown onto the floor… I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. He looked exactly as I imagined: a tiny nose, pursed lips, fuzzy hair, and faint eyebrows. He was so small, so pitiful. Yet, because of his father, he never made it into this world. As my heart turned to ash, Mia leaned in close and whispered: “That’s what you get for hogging Arthur for so many years.” I caught the provocative smirk on Mia’s lips, a shockwave exploding in my mind. She knows me?! “That’s what you get for getting pregnant with Arthur’s baby before me. The baby is dead, isn’t it?” With that, she turned to Arthur with a pitiful look. “Arthur, let’s wait a little longer before leaving~ This person is so scary, she keeps staring at me. Why don’t we just cremate her?” “Burn her, so she doesn’t scare you.” Arthur affectionately patted Mia’s head. “Mia, you distribute the bonuses to the brothers later in the wedding. I won’t go.” “Your sister-in-law is heavily pregnant at home. This godforsaken place in T-country doesn’t even have a decent obstetrician. If she goes into premature labor and ends up with a surgeon delivering the baby, my heart would break.” When we first came to T-country, Arthur insisted on bringing me because he didn’t want to leave me alone. How did it end up that he killed our child with his own hands… After speaking, Arthur finally turned his phone on to check the messages I sent. I don’t know who stepped on my baby, but he was flattened against the floor. “That fetus is so disgusting. How could you step on it? The head is squished. You scared Mia.” As he waited for his phone to boot up, he covered Mia’s eyes. Suddenly, Arthur looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. Ignoring Mia in her wedding dress, he spun around to rush back. Using every last ounce of my strength, I ripped off the heirloom jade Arthur gave me and threw it at him. Crash. The white mutton-fat jade shattered into pieces. Arthur, who had been desperately rushing back, froze when he saw the jade. He closed the distance to my window in three strides. The moment our eyes met, he looked as if he had been struck by lightning again. “Why are you here?! Why are you here?!” Arthur’s eyes darted frantically across my face. He couldn’t believe the pregnant woman he ordered his men to beat was me. And when he noticed the flattened baby in the corner… Arthur burst into tears, trembling as he gathered the baby into his arms. “I tried for eight years for this child! I really didn’t know it was you! Chloe!” Arthur fell to his knees, his eyes reflecting a maddening agony. He collapsed onto the floor, slapping himself repeatedly in remorse, sobbing uncontrollably. “Chloe! How could this happen?! How could this happen?!” Arthur screamed like a madman, clutching the baby. He never imagined that the bleeding pregnant woman he found so unlucky at his wedding was his own wife. Right. How could he have known it was me? When I was hit by the wedding car, he never even thought to verify my identity. He just saw me bleeding everywhere and thought I ruined his luck. From beginning to end, he only had eyes for the woman next to him. He never even considered checking who I was. While I was home alone late in my pregnancy, he was busy marrying another woman. He even turned his phone off, afraid my calls would interrupt his wedding. And when I lay bleeding out in the delivery room… Hearing Arthur’s voice, I was initially filled with hope. But it was only because Mia scratched her hand with a box cutter. In that moment, Arthur was completely dead to me. But in the end, when I just wanted to give birth to my child, he dragged my doctor away. Causing my baby, who could have lived, to suffocate in my womb. I just stared blankly at Arthur. He was still wearing the groom’s suit he wore to marry Mia. Seeing my scrutinizing gaze, he hastily stripped off the suit jacket, pulled the ring off his finger, and clung desperately to the dead fetus, hoping to earn my forgiveness. “Chloe, I’m sorry! I never thought you’d go into premature labor! I didn’t betray you! I was just the best man! It was one of my men getting married!” Best man? I found it hilarious. Even at death’s door, Arthur was still making excuses. Pfft— Another gush of blood spilled from my mouth. That cold, ruthless face was frozen right in front of me. I watched his expression shift from shock to confusion, then to contorted agony. “Hurry! Hurry! Save my wife! Hurry up!” Arthur suddenly seemed to lose his mind, waving his gun at everyone around him. “If you don’t save her, you all die!” He held everyone hostage like a maniac, just like he had held the surgeon hostage for Mia earlier. Arthur’s reaction hit like a bombshell, leaving the doctors and his subordinates completely bewildered. What was going on? Who exactly was the boss’s wife? Didn’t he just drag the delivering doctor away to bandage the bride’s cut? Why was he acting crazy now? And he had his men rip the baby out of the pregnant woman, even letting the baby’s head get crushed. I watched Arthur kneel frantically by my operating table. He grabbed my hand, trembling all over. “Don’t die! Chloe! Why is it you?! Don’t die! Why didn’t you call me?! Chloe!” Suddenly remembering something, he knelt on the floor and slapped himself furiously. Everyone was stunned. Was this crying, self-slapping man really the arrogant, ruthless mafia boss from moments ago? Maybe I should help him remember why I didn’t call him. I tried. I whimpered for help, but because he found me noisy, I was dragged to the back mountain and beaten by his men. My eyes met Arthur’s, mine filled with nothing but disgust. A cold smirk curled on my lips, while he looked maddened with pain. “What are you standing around for?! Do you all want to die?!” A broken look flashed in Arthur’s eyes. Unable to bear my mocking gaze, he raised his gun and fired two shots into the ceiling. The hospital instantly erupted in chaos. Everyone rushed to push me into the operating room. “The patient has lost too much blood…” The surgeon, seeing the operating room covered in my blood, rubbed his forehead. He wanted to say my chances of survival were slim, but remembering Arthur’s reputation, he swallowed the words. “Quickly request blood bags.” “Director, the hospital is facing a blood shortage. We don’t have enough in stock.” Arthur’s lips trembled. “Take mine! Take mine!” I found Arthur’s current state laughable. When he left me home alone late in my pregnancy, didn’t he think about what I would do if I went into premature labor? Yet, he still chose to give another woman a wedding and left me behind. Who was he putting on this crazy act for now? To hear me clearly, Arthur had to lean close to my ear. “What is it? Chloe?” “Your… blood… is dirty…” Hearing those words, his face looked as if he had been struck by lightning. With a trembling hand, I pointed at the child with the crushed head in his arms. Arthur looked as if he had been electrocuted. He used his sleeve to wipe the blood off the baby. He was the one who called the baby disgusting earlier, and now he was personally wiping it clean. His hands shook as he looked at the doctor. “Doctor, can this child be saved?” At this moment, he lacked his usual arrogance, replaced by a childlike confusion and innocence. Seeing him like this, the surgeon could only say, “He could have been saved originally, but his head was crushed.” In reality, the moment Arthur pulled the surgeon away during my delivery, the baby was already beyond saving. I was pushed into the emergency room. If possible, I wished I had never met Arthur. As I was pushed into the operating room and Arthur was blocked outside, I clearly saw him kneeling outside the door, clutching the baby. His tone was no longer arrogant, only filled with pleading. “I beg you, you must save her.” It seemed Arthur had always been arrogant since the day I met him. He had never bowed his head. This was the first time I saw him kneeling and begging. But every time the memory of Arthur ordering his men to beat me, or covering Mia’s eyes to protect her, flashed through my mind, a chilling disgust would rise from the depths of my heart. Because of a cut on Mia that was less than four inches long, he dragged away the doctor delivering my baby; the baby that could have been born was suffocated inside me; even though he pushed so hard, he still couldn’t make it into this world. In my eyes. Arthur was completely rotten to the core. While I was being resuscitated in the operating room, Arthur stared at the baby with the crushed head in his arms. He couldn’t understand it. Why? Why didn’t he go down to check when Chloe was hit by the car? He even wanted Chloe to die. Would she ever forgive him? Arthur fell into a deep panic. Chloe even said his blood was dirty right before being pushed in… His gaze swept the room, trying to find the culprit. Mia, who had just miscarried, hadn’t left. Seeing Arthur like this, she stepped forward to comfort him. “It’s okay, Arthur~ We can always have another baby.” But Arthur, who used to dote on Mia, now looked deranged. “Do you know? I wanted this child for eight whole years! Eight years! Why didn’t I look at Chloe’s face clearly?! Why?!” Suddenly, his gaze fixed on Mia’s face. “It was you! It was you! You killed Chloe’s child!” Arthur grabbed Mia by the throat. “They don’t know Chloe, but you do, don’t you?! Mia!” Mia seemed shocked that the man who was always so gentle to her had turned into this over a woman. She shook her head frantically. “I really didn’t recognize her! Did you forget? Ever since we broke up eight years ago, I’ve been in T-country!” “When we got out of the car, if you hadn’t suddenly distracted me, I would have seen Chloe’s face. When we got to the hospital, you threw a tantrum and called all the doctors out, right when Chloe was giving birth! Because of you! Chloe died! You’ve always hated blood, so why did you suddenly want to use a placenta to nourish your baby? Mia, it was you, wasn’t it?” Arthur looked like a demon crawling out of hell. It seemed if Mia didn’t confess, he would snap her neck. “Arthur, I was just jealous! Jealous that she got to keep you all these years! You only married her to spite me in the beginning! But later, whenever I wanted to see you, you refused, saying you had to stay with her! Arthur, did your feelings change?” “Pfft—hehe—” Hearing this, Arthur laughed lowly. “I love her. Do you understand?!” Bang— A gunshot rang through the hospital. Mia, who thought she had escaped death, was shot down. Arthur walked toward the second-in-command, aiming the gun at his head. “They didn’t recognize Chloe, but you definitely did, right?” “You’ve been with me for ten years. I really wonder how Mia convinced you. I seriously doubt if the baby in her stomach was even mine. Where’s the doctor? Do a DNA test on the baby in this woman’s stomach and this man.” While waiting. Arthur sat outside the delivery room again, holding the baby. “Number Three, go get a baby blanket. He’s going to get cold.” Everyone looked at Arthur like he was a madman. The baby in his arms was already stiffening, yet Arthur ordered someone to mix formula. He held a bottle and fed the baby in his arms, coaxing him, “Be a good boy, listen to Daddy. Don’t spit it up.” But how could a dead baby drink formula? Yet no one dared to make a sound. The atmosphere in the room was freezing. The boss’s wife was being resuscitated inside, and now they were waiting for Mia’s DNA results. Not long after, the doctor responsible for the DNA test brought the report, trembling as he handed it to Arthur. Arthur passed the report down, and the subordinates looked at it one by one. It turned out the baby in Mia’s stomach really belonged to the second-in-command. The second-in-command was truly bold. The boss asked him to take care of Mia, and he took care of her right into bed. Arthur laughed maniacally. He had almost ripped out Chloe’s placenta for this bastard child! It was because of this woman that he had reduced Chloe to this state! As long as they were dead, Chloe would definitely forgive him. Arthur waved his hand. A gunshot rang out, and the second-in-command fell to the floor. …

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During my most innocent year, I kidnapped the aloof, pure campus idol in the middle of the night. Just as I was about to make my move, a barrage of floating comments suddenly flashed in my mind: [The female supporting character better know her place and let the male lead go! He belongs to our female lead!] [Don’t worry, the villainess is just a paper tiger. She doesn’t have the guts to actually do anything. She’s the only G-rated part of this whole R-rated novel.] [The male lead already hated her spoiled rich girl act anyway. Now he’s definitely going to despise her.] The more comments I read, the angrier I got. You tell me not to do it? I’m going to do it even harder. Since he hates looking at me, I’ll make sure he watches me enjoy myself. 1 Just yesterday, my childhood friend, Liam, publicly rejected my confession in favor of the innocent “white lotus,” Mia. Feeling thoroughly humiliated, and knowing that Mia secretly had a crush on the poor, aloof campus idol, Ethan, I angrily decided to become his sugar mommy. But Ethan turned out to be a tough nut to crack. He took the money but refused to be obedient. So, I had him kidnapped overnight, ready to teach him a lesson. Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, his hands bound behind his back with my necktie. He had probably just taken a shower; water droplets were still clinging to his hair. His dress shirt was quickly becoming damp from the dripping water. I looked down at him from a position of power, enjoying his humiliated and angry expression. “Didn’t I tell you to ignore Mia? Why are you taking my money and not doing your job?” Ethan kept his face completely blank, staring at me expressionlessly. It was as if my words held absolutely no threat to him. I was so angry I almost slapped him, but seeing his god-tier face, I changed my mind. If Mia knew that the untouchable flower on a high peak she idolized was being trampled by me, it would be quite entertaining. I extended my foot, letting my toe slide slowly up from the open collar of his shirt. I maliciously patted his cheek. “If you’re going to be a kept canary, you need to act like one. Did you really think my money was that easy to take?” “Instead of acting tough here, you should be figuring out how to please me.” Ethan’s ears burned red, and he glared at me resentfully: “Chloe, don’t go too far.” I tilted my head and leaned in close, tapping my own red lips: “Think about your alcoholic dad, your sick mom, and your sister who needs tuition.” Ethan hesitated for a long time before finally choosing to submit. He closed his eyes in agony and slowly leaned toward my lips. Right at that moment, the floating comments suddenly appeared: [The female supporting character better know her place and let the male lead go! He belongs to our female lead!] I was startled and instinctively dodged Ethan’s kiss. The comments started scrolling faster and faster, a massive wave of information overwhelming me. I couldn’t believe that someone as beautiful and rich as me was actually just a female supporting character in a novel! The comments popped up again: [Ahhh, I hate these plots where the female side character bullies the male lead! Our male lead’s purity belongs only to the female lead!] [Don’t worry, the villainess is just a paper tiger. She doesn’t have the guts to actually do anything. She’s the only G-rated part of this whole R-rated novel.] [The male lead already hated her spoiled rich girl act anyway. Now he’s definitely going to despise her.] The more I read, the more furious I became. You tell me not to do it? Watch me. Since he hates looking at me, I’ll make sure he watches me enjoy myself. Out of pure spite, I planted a forceful kiss right on Ethan’s lips. 2 Ethan didn’t expect me to kiss him so suddenly and instinctively tried to pull back. I grabbed his head, refusing to give him a chance to escape, and slowly deepened the kiss. Clearly, neither of us had any experience; the kiss was clumsy. Soon, I was out of breath and pulled away. Ethan, however, seemed mesmerized and involuntarily chased my lips for a second. Realizing what he had just done, his face flushed bright red with embarrassment and anger. Panting slightly, I mocked him without holding back: “Your kissing skills suck.” Ethan’s body went rigid. He wanted to retort. But seeing my wet, glistening lips, he pressed his own together and said nothing. For some reason, a wave of heat washed over me and wouldn’t go away. Feeling flustered, I picked up the glass of milk nearby and took a sip. Accidentally, some milk spilled down my fingers. I held my hand up to Ethan’s lips with a look of disdain: “Lick it clean for me.” Ethan’s pupils shrank, and he stared at me in absolute disbelief. As if I had asked him to commit some heinous crime. I hated it when he took my money but still acted like some pure, untouchable saint. I frowned in displeasure and wiggled my pale, delicate fingers: “What? You don’t want to?” “If you don’t want to, you can get the hell out.” I could tell he was genuinely angry. The veins on his forehead were throbbing. The corners of his eyes turned a faint, alluring red, and his voice was hoarse and deep: “Chloe, you’ll regret this.” I ruthlessly shoved my fingers into his mouth, smiling wickedly: “Oh? Is that so? Then I’ll wait for the day I regret it.” “Today is just a little lesson. If you don’t behave, I’ll punish you like this again.” The comments exploded: [Tsk tsk, arrogant, radiant rich girl VS aloof, pure campus idol. I’m kind of shipping this.] [What are you shipping? The villainess is doing this; the male lead definitely wants to hack her into a million pieces.] [Exactly! I bet they’re going to have a Bad Ending. Anyone else want to place a bet?] 3 Early the next morning, when I ran into Ethan in the classroom, he looked at me like I was a complete stranger. As if last night had never happened. There were plenty of empty seats in the college lecture hall, and Ethan usually sat in the corner. He always put his backpack on the seat next to him, radiating a “do not disturb” aura. The girls around Mia were all encouraging her to go over and ask if she could sit next to him. I originally couldn’t be bothered, but the comments triggered my competitive spirit. [Just wait and see. The male lead only makes exceptions for the female lead.] [I remember it’s starting from today that they sit together often, and their relationship takes a huge leap forward, right?] While Mia was still hesitating, I walked straight over. Ethan looked up at me expressionlessly. I pointed at his backpack, signaling him to move it: “I’m sitting next to you from now on.” Ethan obediently moved his bag. As soon as I sat down, Mia’s eyes welled up with tears. The girls around her immediately swarmed over to attack me: “Chloe, why do you have to oppose Mia at every turn? Just because Liam rejected you doesn’t mean you can take your anger out on her!” “Yeah, exactly. She’s so jealous. The moment she saw Mia wanted to sit here, she immediately stole the spot.” Mia put on a show of trying to stop them, her voice thick with fake tears: “Don’t say that. Chloe sat down first. Don’t think so badly of her.” “Mia, you’re just too kind, that’s why people bully you.” “Right, exactly. You can’t just let people like her walk all over you.” I calmly placed my books on the desk, not even sparing them a glance: “Get lost!” “Who do you think you are…” “You get lost too!” Seeing that the class bell was about to ring, they finally scattered. “Whatever, don’t bother arguing with someone like her. You might get bitten.” 4 I realized early on that whenever Mia and I were in the same room, no matter what I did, people would criticize me. It was as if even my breathing was wrong. But whatever. I’ll just be the villainess to the bitter end. The comments debated amongst themselves: [The female lead’s plot armor is too strong. The villainess gets criticized for literally everything. Who wouldn’t be mad? No wonder she hates the female lead.] [What can you do? She’s not the female lead. She just has to take it.] [To the commenter above: Does the female supporting character not have the right to be respected? Does the whole world have to revolve around the female lead?] Because it was a boring lecture, I accidentally dozed off halfway through. When I woke up, I realized I was resting my head on Ethan’s arm. Seeing that his arm was a bit stiff, I apologized awkwardly: “Sorry. You could have just woken me up.” Ethan looked at me, a flicker in his eyes, and said flatly: “Don’t misunderstand. I just noticed that when you weren’t resting on my arm, you snored so loudly you were disrupting the class.” I scratched my head in embarrassment, wondering since when I started snoring. 5 Normally, I would badger my childhood friend, Liam, into having lunch with me. But seeing Mia next to him, I instantly lost interest. Before Mia showed up, Liam was really good to me. So good that I thought he liked me too. But after my confession was rejected, I realized the truth: just like he said, he only saw me as a little sister. As I walked past them, Liam instinctively and somewhat impatiently moved to make room for me. When he saw me sit down next to Ethan instead, his gaze froze for a second. Because we weren’t far apart, I could clearly hear them talking. “Liam, Chloe probably sat over there just to get your attention. Do you want to call her over?” “Ignore her. She’s always been spoiled like this. In a few days, she won’t be able to take it anymore and will come back on her own.” I felt absolutely nothing hearing these insignificant words. Instead, I looked with slight disgust at the bland food on Ethan’s tray: “You have money now, why are you still being so frugal?” Ethan kept his head down, eating without looking at me: “Habit.” I proactively pushed my tray toward him: “But I like my canaries to have a little more meat on their bones. You’re a bit too skinny.” Ethan choked violently, his ears turning an unnatural red. He lowered his eyelids and asked, seemingly casually: “Are you only treating me this well to make Liam mad?” I had nothing to hide from Ethan, so I told the truth: “To be exact, it’s to make Mia mad.” “But…” Ethan looked up, watching me curiously: “But what?” I suddenly leaned in closer and lowered my voice: “If you feed me a bite, I’ll tell you.” Ethan awkwardly turned his head away: “Boring.” I raised an eyebrow noncommittally. I contentedly enjoyed the sight of Mia, sitting a short distance away, biting her lip and looking as if she had suffered a massive injustice. In short, if she’s unhappy, I’m happy. When school ended, a torrential downpour washed over the previously sunny sky. Just as I walked out the school gates, the comments flashed again: [Ooh, is the equipment room scene with the male and female leads happening this soon?] [Both of their clothes are soaked from the rain. In a confined space, it’s impossible not to have some sparks fly.] [Exactly. After this, the male lead can’t stop dreaming about the female lead.] I changed direction and headed straight for the equipment room. 6 Sure enough, as soon as I walked in, I saw a soaking wet Ethan. His white dress shirt clung to his lean waist, outlining the sexy lines of his abs. As expected of the male lead—looks slim with clothes on, but muscular underneath. Perhaps my scrutinizing gaze was too direct. Ethan shifted uncomfortably into the shadows: “What are you doing here?” I walked up to him and waved the umbrella in my hand: “To take you home, obviously.” Just then, footsteps suddenly echoed from outside. Ethan grabbed me and pulled me behind a vaulting horse. We were so close our skin was practically touching. I looked at him, amused: “We have nothing to hide. Why are we sneaking around?” Ethan seemed to realize this too and instinctively tried to push me away and step out. Taking advantage of the movement, I hooked my arms around his neck. Hearing Mia’s voice, I mouthed the words to him: “Kiss me.” Ethan’s entire body went rigid, his heart beating wildly against my chest. Seeing he still wasn’t moving, I wickedly nipped his prominent Adam’s apple. Ethan clenched his fists, the veins on the back of his hands bulging. Perhaps afraid I would do something even more outrageous, he compromised, lowering his head and pressing his lips to mine. Feeling the cold touch of his lips, I pried open his tightly pressed mouth, guiding him to kiss me deeper. In the quiet equipment room, the sound of our breathing slowly grew heavier. Mia, standing a short distance away, clearly noticed something was wrong and called out in our direction: “Is anyone there?” I didn’t want her to see us being intimate just yet. Hearing the approaching footsteps, I proactively tried to back away. But Ethan wrapped an arm around my waist, leaving me no room to retreat. I panicked and frantically threw his jacket over our heads. Unfortunately, the jacket was too small and only covered Ethan. Mia recognized me almost immediately. “Chloe, you!” A camera flash went off, and Mia ran out of the room. Ethan had gone a bit too far this time. I had to bite his lip hard to get him to release me. The comments exploded: [Holy shit, I looked away for a second and the male lead and the villainess are kissing?! And the female lead saw them?!] [Did you guys see how lost in the moment the male lead looked? Could he actually be falling for the villainess?] [What nonsense! The villainess obviously forced him, okay?] I pushed Ethan away, annoyed: “You were very disobedient this time.” “What, are you going to teach me another lesson like last time?” If Ethan hadn’t brushed past my shoulder as he walked out, I almost would have thought I was hearing things. Did those words actually just come out of his mouth? 7 Early the next morning, two things happened that seriously pissed me off. First, the photo of Ethan and me kissing had been circulated. Because his face was covered by the jacket, a lot of nasty rumors started flying around. The underlying message was that I was promiscuous and lacked “female virtue.” To be fair, why wasn’t anyone saying the guy lacked “male virtue”? Second, Liam came up to me with a dark face and demanded an explanation: “Chloe, who is the guy in the photo? Why were you kissing him?” “Just because I rejected your confession? Do you have so little self-respect?” Mia chimed in, trying to play peacemaker: “Liam, even though Chloe moved on a bit quickly, she has the right to like other people!” Liam’s face grew even colder. His dark eyes stared at me intently. It gave me the creeps. I met his gaze head-on, my tone defiant: “Since when do I have to report my relationships to you, my ‘big brother next door’?” “You’re overstepping! And don’t think you’re that important to me.” With that, I turned on my heel and walked away. I could feel his burning gaze drilling into my back. He obviously didn’t like me, yet he still wanted to control me. It was completely ridiculous. Clearly, I had underestimated the butterfly effect caused by that photo. Even my professor was considering revoking my opportunity to enter a major competition. Feeling frustrated, I sat in a small bar, drinking. I don’t know how Ethan found me. He didn’t do anything; he just sat silently beside me. I think I was genuinely drunk. I hugged him and kept asking over and over: “Ethan, am I really a bad person? Why does everyone assume the absolute worst about me?” By the end, I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination or if he actually said: “You’re wonderful.” 8 When I woke up again, I stared in deep thought at Ethan, who was lying next to me, bare-chested. The hickey on his neck didn’t look fake. The scratch marks on his body didn’t look fake. And the comments discussing it definitely weren’t fake: [Are you saying the villainess unleashed her inner beast yesterday and pinned the male lead to the bed and kissed him?] [If the villainess has any conscience left, she should buy the male lead a new shirt. That perfectly good shirt was ripped to shreds.] [All the steam was supposed to be with the female lead, and now only the villainess is getting any action!] As soon as I turned on my phone, Liam’s missed calls nearly blew it up. I had 99+ unread messages on WeChat. Feeling a sense of dread, I clicked into my “Moments.” Nine photos showing Ethan and me kissing from every possible 360-degree angle were sitting right there. The caption was: [So what if we kissed? I kiss whoever I want! I kiss whoever I want!] While I was still reeling from shock, Ethan calmly stood up and started putting on his shredded, rag-like shirt. I facepalmed: “Don’t wear that. Stay here, I’ll go buy you some new clothes nearby.” Thank goodness it was the weekend, and I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew… I stared speechlessly at Liam, who was sitting by the door with dark circles under his eyes. “What are you doing here?” The comments were having a field day: [Did this guy sit outside the door listening to the villainess and the male lead hook up all night? Is he traumatized?] [Apparently he knocked on the door a few times, and the villainess literally pinned the male lead against the door and kissed him, telling Liam to get lost and stop ruining the mood.] [This idiot second male lead, why didn’t he take the opportunity to steal the female lead instead of hanging around the villainess?] Seeing his dark, silent gaze, I turned to leave. Liam grabbed my wrist, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at me: “Break up with him.” I pried his fingers off one by one, my voice icy: “If you have this much free time, go check on your precious Mia. Don’t interfere with my business.” When I got back, Liam was gone, and Ethan had cleaned the room spotlessly. I handed him the clothes I bought: “Once you’re dressed, you can go. I want to rest some more.” Ethan slowly buttoned up his shirt, looking at me with dissatisfaction: “Am I just a tool to you? You use me and then throw me away.” I spat out the water I had just taken a sip of. Liam was acting weird, and Ethan was acting even weirder. That sentence sounded completely wrong no matter how you sliced it. I rubbed my aching forehead and brushed him off: “You know we have a strictly financial relationship. What I did wasn’t out of line.” Ethan was clearly unhappy. He left with a dark expression on his face. 9 Since the “kissing gate” incident, everyone assumed Ethan and I were dating. But Ethan, holding a grudge over how I brushed him off, ignored me for days. In everyone else’s eyes, our relationship looked like I was just desperately chasing after him. Ding-dong. A notification popped up on my phone. It was a birthday party invitation from Liam. I couldn’t help but frown. I didn’t want to go, but the Liam and Chloe families were close. If I didn’t show up, my parents would definitely nag me. If this were the past, I would have spent so much time and effort picking out a gift for him. Now? Whatever. I’ll just buy something random. Who cares if he likes it or not. Mia showed up at the birthday party too. Coincidentally, we both bought him perfume. Except, she bought a woody scent, and I bought an aquatic scent. I sat quietly in the farthest corner, trying to make myself invisible. But Mia just had to call me out publicly: “Chloe, you’ve known Liam for so long, you couldn’t possibly not know he prefers woody scents, right?” Before I could say a word, Liam spoke up: “Mia, you’re talking too much.” I was confused. The comments were even more confused: [Oh my god, wasn’t today supposed to be the plot where the second male lead, desperate to get the female lead, drugs her with an aphrodisiac? Why does this situation look so wrong?] [Am I the only one who noticed the color of the red wine in the villainess’s hand looks a little off?] I stared at the half-empty glass of red wine in my hand, deep in thought. Why didn’t you guys wait until I was dead to tell me?! 10 Soon, I felt my body burning up and my mind growing hazy. Realizing something was wrong, I stumbled out of the room, heading for the restroom. Halfway down the hall, a hand suddenly yanked me into a storage closet. The closet was dim, but I clearly smelled the scent of cedar coming from behind me. It was Liam. He slowly pinned my hands behind my back, his voice hoarse: “Chloe, you’ve been really disobedient lately.” I panicked and struggled with all my might. “Liam, do you know what you’re doing?! Let me go!” Liam took off his glasses, brushed a strand of my hair aside, and took a light sniff: “I still prefer it when you call me ‘Liam’ like you used to.” “Liam, don’t cross the line. If you keep this up, I’ll scream—mmph!” This aggressive kiss was incredibly repulsive. I got vicious and bit down hard. The metallic taste of blood quickly filled both our mouths. But the harder I bit, the more into the kiss Liam became. Pain acted like an aphrodisiac for him. This was the first time I fully realized… He was a psychopath.

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