I lost my memory. I remembered everyone else, but I completely forgot about him. Looking at Oliver’s dark expression, I asked tentatively, “Are you my… boyfriend?” His fingers paused over his laptop keyboard, and his voice grew even colder. “I’m your brother. Your biological brother.” I stared at his incredibly handsome face, which looked absolutely nothing like my parents, and fell into deep thought. Before I could figure it out, Oliver leaned in to feed me my medicine. The collar of his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo resting just below his collarbone. —Mia. What kind of “biological brother” tattoos his sister’s name on his chest? 1 Our family has a secret. A secret that my parents and I all know, but Oliver doesn’t. Oliver isn’t my parents’ biological son. When he was ten years old, both of his parents died in a tragic car accident. He was so devastated that he developed a dangerously high fever that wouldn’t break. When he finally woke up, his memories of the first ten years of his life were completely wiped clean. His uncle’s family eagerly took over the house his parents left behind, but they completely neglected him. During the entire time he was unconscious in the hospital, they never visited him once. Oliver’s father and my father had been best friends. So, my dad decided to take him in and raise him until he became an adult. My mom fully supported the idea. “It’s fine. It’s just one more child. Our family can afford to raise him.” I, on the other hand, was very confused. I tugged on my dad’s shirt and asked, “If Oliver becomes my brother, does that mean I can’t marry him when I grow up?” My question made both my parents burst out laughing. My dad ruffled my hair and said, “You can still marry him. Oliver isn’t legally adopted; he’s not on our family register. He’s just going to live with us.” Even though I didn’t fully understand the legalities, I felt a lot better. As long as I could still marry him, who cared if he lived in our house or if he was a little slow? None of that mattered! I was overjoyed. I grabbed my favorite stuffed bunny and was about to run into his room to play, but my mom stopped me. She frowned slightly. “Mia, Oliver lost his parents and his memory. To keep him from being overwhelmed with grief, we’re going to treat him exactly like he’s your real brother. We’re going to give him a warm, loving home. You have to promise Mommy and Daddy that you’ll help us keep this secret, okay?” Back then, I nodded clumsily, agreeing to my parents’ well-intentioned lie. And we kept that secret for ten whole years. 2 Ten years later. Oliver was twenty, and I was seventeen. We had both reached an age where we understood how the world worked. And this secret… it felt too cruel to just drop on him. Neither my parents nor I could bring ourselves to tell him the truth. My mom looked at me, a little conflicted. “Mia, you’re all grown up now. Do you… still want to marry Oliver?” I shook my head, silently refusing. For one thing, I couldn’t bear to shatter his reality just to satisfy my own desires. For another, over the past decade, Oliver had treated me exactly like a blood sister. He didn’t show a single ounce of romantic interest in me. Why should I force it? But even though I said that, deep down, I still hadn’t really let him go. One weekend. I was scrolling through TikTok and came across a video about step-sibling romance tropes. Out of habit, I opened the comment section. The top comment was: [Like this comment so it gets recommended to my brother and scares the crap out of him.] I thought about it for a second and hit ‘like’. I figured Oliver would never see it on his feed anyway. I was so wrong. That very night. He actually took a leave of absence from his college dorm and came home. When he appeared in my bedroom with a face as dark as thunder, I still didn’t grasp the severity of the situation. Until he confiscated my phone. His tone was deadly serious: “Mia, your final exams are in three months.” I brushed it off. “I was just relaxing on the weekend…” Oliver took a deep breath. “Then shouldn’t you be watching something educational, or genuinely relaxing? Instead of liking that messed-up, inappropriate garbage?” Oh. So he did see it. Maybe it was the moonlight filtering into the room that made me reckless. Without thinking, I reached past Oliver, locked my bedroom door, and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. “But Oliver, I really, really like you.” Oliver’s entire body went completely rigid. It felt like tension, or maybe even fear. Before he could pull away, I let go of him voluntarily. “I’m kidding! It’s just a novel trope, don’t take it so seriously.” In the dead-silent bedroom, I clearly heard Oliver let out a massive sigh of relief. That night was the only sleepless night I had when I was seventeen. 3 When I was twenty. I wasn’t getting along with my college roommates, so Oliver picked me up to stay at his apartment for the weekend. He was a perfect gentleman and let me take the master bedroom. But of course, a massive thunderstorm rolled in that night. The apartment was huge, and I was terrified of being alone in that room. So, just like when we were kids, I sneaked into Oliver’s bed. I knew it was wrong, but subconsciously, I always felt like he belonged to me. Besides, he was twenty-three and had never had a girlfriend. That meant I still had a chance. I pressed my freezing hands against his warm, broad back. Oliver jerked awake, as if startled from a deep sleep, and quickly flipped on the bedside lamp. The sudden, bright light made me squint. Oliver’s voice was rough, sounding almost like a warning: “Mia, we aren’t kids anymore.” In that instant, it felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over my head. I shakily started to get up, intending to crawl back to the master bedroom. But as I moved, I accidentally caught sight of the tattoo just below his collarbone. I immediately threw myself back into his arms, tracing the tattoo with my fingers. I smiled brightly. “Oliver, do you have a secret crush on me?” Oliver’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer. He just coldly slapped my hand away. I felt like I had uncovered the world’s biggest secret, so I kept teasing him. “But Oliver, I’m your sister. Your biological sister.” Suddenly, a crack of thunder rattled the windows. The temperature in the room dropped, and I shivered. Oliver grabbed the edge of the duvet and wrapped me tightly in it, terrified I would catch a cold. I took advantage of the situation, snuggling deep into his chest, and reached out to poke his abs, acting as intimately as a real girlfriend. Before I could even enjoy the moment, Oliver caught my wandering hand. His voice was terrifyingly calm: “You aren’t my biological sister.” I froze, looking at him in utter disbelief. “What did you say?” He knew? Since when did he know? Faced with my shock, Oliver’s eyes gradually cleared. He didn’t say another word. He just scooped me up—blanket and all—carried me back to the master bedroom, and dumped me on the bed. He dropped a single sentence: “Whatever. Go to sleep.” Then he turned to leave. In a panic, I grabbed his sleeve. “Oliver, what do you mean?” He tucked my hand back under the covers, his voice muffled and distant. “It’s late. Go to sleep. We can talk about whatever it is in the morning.” But… when I finally rolled out of bed the next morning after tossing and turning all night… Oliver was nowhere to be found. There was only a warm plate of breakfast on the dining table, along with a sticky note he left behind. [Eat your breakfast. Be good.] He was treating me like a toddler. Chewing on my sandwich, I finally realized that Oliver had also learned how to run away from his problems. 4 After returning to campus, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Oliver had said. When my parents called, I even felt a sudden, inexplicable wave of panic. But they sounded completely normal, chatting with their usual parental concern, entirely oblivious to Oliver’s weird behavior. So, right before hanging up, I cautiously asked, “Mom, Dad… has Oliver said anything to you guys lately?” My parents were totally confused and immediately asked if we had gotten into a fight. Feeling incredibly guilty, I made up an excuse and quickly hung up the phone. We hadn’t technically gotten into a fight, but he was definitely, unilaterally avoiding me. It had been three days, and he hadn’t replied to a single one of my texts. Monday. Me: [Are you hiding from me? I don’t bite…] Tuesday. Me: [If you’re a man, text me back. If you understand, type ‘understood’!] Wednesday. Me: [If you don’t reply, I’m going to ambush you at your office. I’m actually going.] … Even a cornered dog will jump a fence, and a pushed rabbit will bite. If I didn’t show him I meant business, he was going to treat me like a total pushover! Staring at the screen full of unanswered green text bubbles, my anger boiled over. I decided to call an Uber and head straight to his corporate building. But I never expected that my Uber would get into a massive car crash on the way there. And that I would take a nasty hit to the head. 5 When I finally woke up, I was staring groggily at a sterile white hospital ceiling. My brain was still booting up. It wasn’t until I heard my parents sobbing that my hearing finally kicked in. My throat was incredibly dry. “Mom, Dad… what are you crying about?” Through their broken, tearful explanations, I managed to piece together what had happened. I forced a weak smile. “Hey, it’s fine! Surviving a disaster means good luck is coming, right?” Seeing how optimistic I was, my parents finally stopped crying. I went right back to joking around with them like nothing had happened. Amidst the laughter, a tall, unbelievably handsome man walked into the room. His deep, intense eyes locked onto me, making my heart skip a literal beat. This was, without a doubt, the most handsome man I had ever seen in real life. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long, elegant fingers. Every single feature was flawlessly tailored to my exact type. I was so mesmerized that I accidentally blurted out, “Man, the messy fringe haircut really is superior to the curly mop.” Hearing this, the handsome guy smirked slightly and asked, “Did that car crash knock all the sense out of your head?” I suddenly realized my behavior was a bit rude. I straightened the collar of my hospital gown and asked in my sweetest, most polite voice, “Excuse me, handsome, but who are you?” I was in a private VIP hospital room. He was either in the wrong room, or he was here to visit me. But I absolutely did not know a guy this hot. The second the words left my mouth, my mom’s hand, which had been peeling an apple, stopped dead. My dad was the first to react. “Mia, you don’t recognize him?” I shook my head. “Should I?” Was he some distant relative? Like a cousin or something? But there was no way my brain would let me forget a guy this gorgeous. I scanned him from head to toe one more time, but still drew a complete blank. When I tried to force myself to remember, a sharp, dull ache pulsed through my nerves. My condition made the handsome guy’s brow furrow deeply. He immediately rushed out to get my attending doctor. After a thorough examination, the doctor explained that I was suffering from temporary selective amnesia and told them not to panic. Hearing the doctor’s reassurance, my parents let out a massive sigh of relief. The handsome guy’s face, however, grew darker by the second. I figured he must be someone incredibly close to me. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be this furious. I looked at him cautiously. “So… what exactly is our relationship?” He didn’t say a word. He just walked over to the table by the window, sat down, pulled out a laptop, and started aggressively typing. It looked like he was working, but it felt much more like he was throwing a silent tantrum. Sensing the toxic atmosphere, my parents quickly made up an excuse and slipped out of the room. The tension in the air was suffocating. I ran through eight hundred different relationship scenarios in my head before finally settling on the most logical one. Looking at Oliver’s dark expression, I asked tentatively, “Are you my… boyfriend?” His fingers paused over his laptop keyboard, and his voice grew even colder. “I’m your brother. Your biological brother.” I stared at his incredibly handsome face, which looked absolutely nothing like my parents, and fell into deep thought. Before I could figure it out, Oliver leaned in to feed me my medicine. The collar of his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo resting just below his collarbone. —Mia. What kind of “biological brother” tattoos his sister’s name on his chest?

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My protégé had just stolen a five-million-dollar wealth management contract right out from under me. She stood there, waving the freshly signed receipt in my face, looking incredibly smug. “Mentor, the client specifically asked to open the account under my name. I couldn’t exactly push the business away, could I?” “If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. You’re getting old, and you move too slow.” “Don’t look at me with that bitter, wrinkly face! Tell you what, I’ll treat you to a bubble tea to make up for it.” Somehow, her words twisted the situation to make me look like the petty one. And of course, the branch manager stepped in to play peacemaker, telling me not to be so hard on the “young girl.” Had they both forgotten that my portfolio practically funded over half of this entire branch? Chapter 1 I rushed back to the office right on time, only to hear the news that my client had been poached. I went straight to Chloe. Chloe had completely dropped her usual sweet, respectful act. Holding the signed receipt, she looked at me with absolute justification. “Mentor, you can’t blame me for this.” “You weren’t here. We couldn’t just leave a VIP client sitting in the lobby waiting, so I stepped in to host him for you.” “If it wasn’t for me, you would have completely offended the client! And instead of thanking me, you’re accusing me of stealing your commission?” “Besides, Mr. Vance insisted on buying the portfolio through me. What was I supposed to do?” “I couldn’t just reject the firm’s business!” “At the end of the day, you were the one who was late, Mentor. Who else is there to blame?” I had a 10:00 AM appointment with the client. He arrived exactly five minutes early. In what universe does a five-minute window naturally lead to closing a five-million-dollar deal? She claimed she didn’t use my name to secure the signature. Bullshit. Right then, my phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Vance: [Hey Elena, are you feeling alright? I just realized my portfolio manager isn’t listed as you. Did you guys have some internal restructuring?] What could I say? I had to lie and tell him it was a system error, assuring him that I was still his dedicated wealth manager. After replying, I looked back at Chloe’s unapologetic face and demanded, “Did you use my name to poach my client?” “Chloe, do you have a death wish in this industry?” Stealing clients is the ultimate taboo for wealth managers. For her to do it this blatantly, there was no way management didn’t know. Furthermore, I was her mentor. I had personally trained her from her very first day on the job. If word got out that she stole a client from her own mentor, no firm in the city would ever hire her again. “While this is still quiet, I strongly suggest you go to operations and transfer that account back to my name.” Mixing threats with reason was the absolute limit of my patience. I genuinely hoped she would be smart enough not to blow this up and make everyone look bad in the office. But Chloe just looked at me with a cocky, lackadaisical smirk. “Mentor, you must be joking.” “Why would I hand over my client to you?” “Just because you’re my mentor, I’m supposed to surrender my commission?” “You neglected the client. I managed to retain him. That’s my skill. Being my mentor doesn’t give you a free pass.” “I might be a fresh grad, but I’m not some pushover you can just bully.” Wow. She actually thought she was taking a brave stand. I was so furious I actually laughed. I reached out to grab the receipt from her hand to go fix the transfer, but she blocked me. “Mentor, why are you so mad?” “Aren’t we all just regular employees here? Nobody is better than anybody else.” “As long as the client signs with our firm, what difference does it make whose name is on the paper?” “Tell you what, I’ll buy you a Starbucks. Get the most expensive Frappuccino on the menu. Consider it a thank you for everything you’ve taught me.” Looking at her triumphant, smug face, I wanted to slap myself. Chloe had been glued to my side since she was hired right out of college. She was my junior from the same university, graduated from the same finance program. Naturally, I took her under my wing and invested a lot of time in her. I poured my heart and soul into teaching her how to source leads and maintain client relationships. Over the past few months, Chloe had consistently ranked number one among the new hires. I had been genuinely happy for her, frequently offering advice when she made missteps. I even taught her the unwritten rules of corporate gifting for high-net-worth clients during the holidays. I never, in a million years, expected her to stab me in the back. “I can’t afford your coffee.” “And don’t call me Mentor anymore. I clearly have nothing left to teach a ‘superstar’ who steals her colleagues’ clients.” I was seething. But Chloe just shrugged carelessly. “Fine, don’t drink it. Saves me money.” “Why are you acting like such a victim? You’re getting older, your reflexes are slow. Are young people not allowed to be ambitious anymore?” “No matter who you tell, I’m in the right here.” “You’re just a washed-up older woman. I called you Mentor to be polite, did you really think you were that important?” “Honestly, I don’t want to call you that anyway. From now on, every man for himself.” “But Mr. Vance is officially my client now. So stop dreaming about stealing him back.” Chapter 2 I didn’t bother listening to the rest of her tough-girl speech. I turned on my heel and marched straight to the Branch Manager’s office. Manager Sterling seemed to already know exactly why I was there. Before I could even speak, he started trying to pacify me. “Elena, listen. The ink is already dry on the contract. If you start fighting your own protégé over a client, it’s going to look terrible for everyone.” “Besides, you weren’t here. Making a VIP client wait that long is a failure on the firm’s part.” “Chloe was actually covering for you.” I suppressed the fire burning in my chest and explained calmly: “When Mr. Vance arrived, I was already pulling into the parking garage. Chloe deliberately parked her car horizontally across the access aisle, which is why I was delayed by a few minutes.” “I already spoke to Mr. Vance on the phone. Why did Chloe still process the paperwork under the pretense that she was acting on my behalf?” I shoved my phone across the desk, showing him Mr. Vance’s text. “Mr. Vance still has no idea what actually happened. Who exactly is stealing whose client here?” My tone sharpened. Manager Sterling’s face hardened in response. “Elena, I think you’ve let your ego get way out of control lately.” “I have never heard of a wealth manager making a VIP wait. You made a mistake, and now you’re blaming your coworkers?” “Chloe fixed your massive screw-up. Instead of thanking her, you’re accusing her of theft?!” “If it wasn’t for her, Mr. Vance probably would have walked right out the door!” Now I understood perfectly. Manager Sterling and Chloe were in this together. For him to defend her this aggressively… it was impossible not to suspect he had orchestrated this whole thing. Seeing my face flush with anger, Manager Sterling softened his tone, switching to his usual manipulative tactics. “You’re her mentor. Her securing a massive client is partly a reflection of your excellent training.” “Tell you what, I’ll approve two days of PTO for you. Go home, rest up, and really think about whether your behavior today was professional.” “Elena, you need to learn to be content. Your monthly commission is the highest in the entire branch. You make more money than I do.” “What more do you want?” Carrot and stick. It was his classic playbook, and he thought it would work on me. Unfortunately for him, he had forgotten one crucial detail: I didn’t apply for this job. I was aggressively headhunted by the previous branch manager. I brought a massive book of business with me. My portfolio brought in an average of nearly $15 million in new daily deposits, essentially subsidizing the salaries of over half the staff in this building. My high income was entirely due to my own hustle and connections. It had absolutely zero to do with his “leadership.” In that exact moment, I made the decision to jump ship. “Manager Sterling, since the commission for Mr. Vance’s account is going to Chloe, I’ll be sure to contact him and let him know. Also, I expect Chloe to reimburse me for the expenses incurred in securing his business.” “From the day I started courting Mr. Vance until this morning, I’ve spent roughly $1,500 out of pocket on gifts and dinners. I’ll compile an itemized expense report. Please make sure Chloe is aware she needs to pay it.” His eyes widened in absolute shock. “Elena, you are being completely ridiculous.” “Those were your personal, out-of-pocket expenses! Why should Chloe reimburse you?!” “Just because you claim it was for client maintenance doesn’t make it a firm-mandated expense!” “I think you’re just bitter and trying to sabotage our most promising new hire!” “Elena, we’re all veterans here. The firm needs fresh blood to survive. You can’t just hoard the top-biller spot forever. You have to leave some room for the rookies to grow.” “This matter is closed. Mr. Vance was hosted by Chloe, and he signed the paperwork with Chloe. He is her client.” “If you’re feeling generous, you should actually transfer a few more of your accounts to your protégé. But if you aren’t, you at least shouldn’t stand in the way of someone else’s ambition.” “Elena, I’m warning you for your own good. Don’t try any underhanded tricks.” I honestly couldn’t hold it in anymore. I burst out laughing. I had never heard of anyone “hoarding” the top-biller spot like it was a reserved parking space. Every top-performing wealth manager in this industry either had massive generational wealth connections, insane luck, or legendary networking skills. I had never heard of a veteran willingly handing over their top rank to a rookie out of the goodness of their heart. Manager Sterling had been parachuted into this role from the IT department. He was a classic case of an amateur trying to dictate to a professional. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him anymore. I pulled out my laptop, opened the HR portal, typed out my formal letter of resignation, and hit send. Chapter 3 As I walked out of the manager’s office, Chloe happened to be strolling by, still waving that signed receipt. Seeing me, she smirked and flicked the paper in my direction. “Got the door slammed in your face, huh?” “Elena, the times have changed. In today’s market, results are the only thing that matters. Seniority means nothing.” “You only have a big portfolio because you got lucky and entered the industry a few years before I did.” “Did you honestly think it was because of your skill?” “If you actually had skill, Mr. Vance wouldn’t have signed with me so easily.” With that, she adjusted her collar, put on a sickeningly sweet voice, and strutted into the manager’s office. “Manager Sterling~ See, I told you I could close Mr. Vance!~” “Look~ The five million dollar transfer went straight into my account, just like a good boy~” Chloe didn’t bother keeping her voice down. She clearly wanted me to hear every word. I paused by the door, waiting to hear Sterling’s response. “Chloe, don’t get arrogant just yet. You still have a long way to go to catch up to Elena.” “As far as I know, she single-handedly accounts for over half the growth in this branch’s AUM. If you can figure out a way to take over her portfolio…” “Don’t worry, Manager Sterling! I can absolutely handle it.” “I shadowed her for months. I already memorized all her little tricks for client retention.” “It’s just chatting them up and sending them cheap gifts. Those rich people love feeling like they’re getting special treatment. Give them a few minor perks, and they’ll come begging to deposit their money.” She paused, perfectly timing her pivot to flatter him. “But mostly, it’s because our firm’s products are so strong.” “Under your brilliant leadership, Manager Sterling, our branch is already the top performer in the region. Everyone in the industry is so jealous we have you!~” That hit the exact right spot. Sterling had always felt insecure about being an external hire with no finance background. He knew the staff didn’t respect him and only kept their mouths shut because of his title. But he wasn’t completely blind. He could feel the resentment. Chloe’s aggressive flattery inflated his ego to the size of a blimp. “Mm. I knew I didn’t misjudge you.” “I don’t know why Elena walks around acting so high and mighty. She’s literally just selling the products we provide.” Chloe immediately agreed. “Exactly! If it wasn’t for your brilliant strategic direction, she would be nothing.” “She actually thinks her success is entirely her own doing.” “She’s just a sales rep. People call her ‘Manager’ to be polite, and she actually thinks she’s an executive?” “Zero self-awareness.” Their voices dropped lower, but I could still clearly hear Sterling’s smug reply. “My advice to park your car horizontally across the aisle worked perfectly, didn’t it?” “If it wasn’t for my strategic guidance, you never would have stalled her that long.” “Experience matters, Chloe. You still have a lot to learn from me.” Chapter 4 Listening to the two of them plotting and whispering in the office, I couldn’t stomach another second. I headed straight for the HR department to expedite my offboarding. Linda, the HR Director, stared at me in absolute shock. “What?! Elena, you’re resigning?!” “If you leave, what is this branch going to do?” “Did Sterling try to screw you over?” “Oh my god. I used to think he was just incompetent. Now I realize he’s actually brain-dead!” “He spends all day micromanaging formatting issues instead of doing actual business! I’ve rewritten this staffing report ten times! He just told me the tenth draft is worse than the first!!!” I tried to calm Linda down, explaining the entire situation with Chloe and the poached client. She immediately approved my resignation in the system. “I am pushing this through with priority!” “She actually had the nerve to steal your client?! After you specifically asked all of us to look out for her when she was hired?!” “What an ungrateful little snake.” She was even angrier than I was. After dragging Chloe’s name through the mud for another five minutes, she looked at me hesitantly. “So… that five million dollar commission really just goes to Chloe?” “She just gets away with it?!” “I am so mad my blood pressure is spiking! Elena, what do we do?!” I patted her back and gave her a deeply mysterious smile. “Don’t worry, Linda. They aren’t getting a dime out of this.” Chapter 5 My resignation was immediately forwarded to Corporate HQ. Linda secretly texted me to let me know that Manager Sterling had written a massive, 500-word essay in the “Manager’s Comments” section, entirely dedicated to assassinating my character and calling me arrogant. “His ability to twist the truth is honestly impressive.” “He wrote that you constantly neglected clients, slacked off during work hours, were frequently absent from the office, and spent your entire workday just chatting with people.” “Even an HR rep like me knows that a wealth manager’s job is literally to network and chat with clients. How does the branch manager not know that?” “I’m just sad you won’t get your severance package. That would have been a massive payout.” Looking at the notification that Corporate had already approved my resignation, I replied calmly: “Linda, do you know how much interest my clients’ portfolios generate on a daily basis?” “Every day I leave earlier is a massive financial win for me.” Everyone at the branch only knew that I was recruited here with a $15 million portfolio already under my belt. Maintaining a massive daily deposit growth rate isn’t just about having good financial products. Honestly, without serious connections, it’s mathematically impossible. With that much liquid cash, these CEOs aren’t idiots. Why would they park their money with me just to earn standard, low-tier interest? If it wasn’t for the $150 million trust fund my dad set up for me, combined with him constantly dragging me to high-level networking dinners with his billionaire friends, I never would have hit those numbers. It wasn’t like other firms hadn’t tried to poach me. But this firm actually had decent products, the benefits were good, and most importantly, it was a ten-minute drive from my house. My dad only ever asked one thing of me: come home for dinner more often. Saying goodbye to Linda, I went back to my desk to pack up my things. After working here for years, I did have some sentimental attachment to the place. I backed up all my client chat logs to my personal cloud, wiped my desktop hard drive clean, and took all my physical notebooks containing my clients’ personal preferences to the heavy-duty paper shredder. Only then did I grab my box to leave. Unfortunately, I bumped into Chloe, who had just returned from a long lunch break at the salon. She dramatically pointed at my cardboard box. “Elena, why are you resigning?” “Are you scared my numbers are going to crush yours next month, so you’re running away while you still have your dignity?” “Oh well, it’s totally normal. You couldn’t stay the top-biller forever.” “Sigh. The economy is tough right now. Without my elite networking skills and background, bringing in new deposits must have been exhausting for you.” “Maybe you could try cold-calling people from the phone book?” Her face was twisted into such a punchable, smug sneer. I couldn’t wait to see how long she’d be smiling. To avoid the drama, I brushed off the spot on my shoulder where she had accidentally bumped me, my tone dripping with sarcasm: “The firm’s entire future rests on the shoulders of exceptional talent like you.” “Keep up the hard work. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Manager Sterling.” She was momentarily speechless, her face flushing bright red before she glared at me. “I don’t need you to tell me that!” “Don’t worry, the student has already surpassed the master. You’re just old and useless now.” I ignored her pathetic taunts and started saying my goodbyes to the veteran staff around the office. They looked genuinely sad to see me go. Several of them hugged me, whispering, “When you make it big, don’t forget us!” Right then, Chloe aggressively shoved her way through the crowd and violently slapped the cardboard box out of my hands. “Leaving in such a hurry, Elena? Are you trying to steal company property?!” “I need to inspect everything in that box!”

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My best friend and I just got hit with the ultimate plot twist. We’re both pregnant. Unexpectedly. She’s carrying the child of an A-list movie star ex, and I have the baby of a terrifyingly powerful billionaire tycoon. Given that neither of these men seems to have “fatherhood” on their bingo card, my bestie suggested the impossible: “What if we just dump the dads and keep the kids?” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m in! Where you go, I go!” So, we grabbed our positive tests and fled the country, kicking off our happily ever after in paradise. Until two years later. Her baby went viral on TikTok because he looks exactly like the movie star father. And the camera caught me and my daughter in the shot. That very night, my bar was surrounded by a fleet of black SUVs. Before I could dial 911, my hands were pinned behind my back with a leather belt. He grabbed my waist, his voice raw with terrifying fury: “Go on. Call them. But guess how many times I’ll ruin you before the cops even show up?” 1 Heartbroken and single, my best friend Avery dragged me to a high-end bar to forget. She was just about to run her hand over a male model’s abs. When Oscar-winning actor Ethan Cole slammed through the bar doors. Ethan didn’t bother with a disguise. He stalked over, furious, pointing at the model who looked remarkably like him. “Who is he? Avery, are you using him as a substitute for me?” Avery looked up, a cold smirk playing on her lips as she stood up. “What? You used me as a substitute for Chloe St. James. Why can’t I find someone to replace you?” “Besides, your family’s heirloom diamond necklace is already on someone else’s neck.” Ethan choked on his own words. His voice went pale as he tried to explain, “I told you, I didn’t give her that necklace.” Avery: “Fine. Go get it back.” Silence fell between them like a roaring river, making the bar’s noise seem even louder. Ethan stood frozen for a long moment before finally sighing out, “I’m sorry. I can’t.” Even though she expected that answer, the expression on Avery’s face shattered. Her eyes were red. She grabbed her purse, gave me a look that said call me, and strutted out of the bar on her high heels. Ethan nodded to me, then chased after her. Thinking about the last few times Ethan had easily coaxed her back. I panicked and yelled, “Ava! Don’t you dare soften! This is a matter of principle!” “Break up! You absolutely have to break up this time!” My throat was raw from shouting. Suddenly, a hand with long, elegant fingers handed me a slice of watermelon. I looked at the hand, my heart fluttering a bit. Damn, I thought, this male model really knows how to treat a girl! I turned around, smiling: “Hey sweetie, what’s your name?” The second the words left my mouth, I froze solid. The male models in the booth were gone. Only Dominic Sterling was standing behind me. Chiseled features, a sharp jawline, and eyes looking at me like they were filled with ice. Terrified, I took a step back, but he grabbed my wrist. Dominic Sterling looked at me, a dangerous half-smile on his face: “You like ‘sweeties’?” “Fine. Let’s go home! I’ve got something sweet for you to see all night long!” 2 That night, Dominic Sterling had me pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window until dawn. The view overlooked the entire city skyline from a penthouse in one of the most expensive zip codes in the country. If it weren’t for Dominic, I wouldn’t even have the right to be in this neighborhood. But of course, I wasn’t Dominic Sterling’s girlfriend. At best, I was his high-end kept woman. During my first year trying to make it as an actress, I met a director who tried to impose the “casting couch” rules on me. Even though I rejected him at the dinner table multiple times, he kept pushing. Just as his hand was about to slide under my dress, Dominic appeared. He defused the situation with a single, careless sentence. He was the powerful, untouchable billionaire mogul, and I was just a fresh-faced, struggling nobody. Dominic’s pursuit wasn’t obvious. No massive, public displays of affection or gifts. But he took care of me everywhere, plus he had that face that could put any Hollywood leading man to shame. Over time, it was a lie to say I wasn’t smitten. But I knew my place. A kept woman is a kept woman. There’s a world of difference between that and a real girlfriend. I understood completely: we were never destined for a happy ending. I was always going to leave. “You’re still distracted?” Probably to punish me for not focusing, Dominic’s movements behind me grew harder: “What are you thinking about? Thinking about your ‘sweetie’?” I gasped out loud, my fingernails digging into his arm. I bit my lip and shook my head. But my response clearly didn’t satisfy him. He flipped me over: “Don’t worry. I’ll give you something to think about.” A long time later, after the storm calmed down, Dominic carried me to the bathtub and held me in his arms. While I was recovering, I suddenly asked, “I heard your older sister, Eleanor, is back?” “Yeah.” Dominic had always been close to Eleanor. She practically ran the entire Sterling family’s affairs. Most importantly, I heard Eleanor brought a woman back with her this time. A woman who was supposed to be Dominic’s arranged fiancée. Thinking about this, I cautiously asked, “Can I meet her?” Dominic’s eyes snapped open. He scrutinized me for a moment before coldly saying, “No need.” Of course. A kept woman wasn’t worthy of meeting the family. I hid the disappointment in my heart and smiled at him: “Okay.” That night, Avery, who said she would call me, never did. It wasn’t until noon the next day that she finally sent a message. [Relax, we didn’t get back together.] 3 I thought my life would just go on like that. Until a month later, when Avery and I realized Aunt Flo was late for both of us. We agreed to go to the doctor together. The moment the ultrasound results came back, we both stared at the words “Pregnancy Confirmed” on the paper, falling into a collective silence. Avery grabbed my ultrasound results and criticized me for failing to protect myself. “You said you were going to ditch him after getting some acting roles! You didn’t use protection?” “I did!” I protested loudly. But then I thought about the intensity against that window that night. My voice dropped: “But… it might have broken.” Avery rolled her eyes, too tired to even roast me. Now it was my turn to grab her results. I yelled, “You’re roasting me? What about you! You don’t even have a boyfriend! Whose kid is this? Some random hookup?” Avery’s eyelashes fluttered. She shot me a guilty look and muttered, “It’s Ethan’s.” “Whose?” I thought I heard wrong, my face turning into a confused mess. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and yelled in my ear, “My ex! Ethan Cole!” My ears were ringing. I mumbled, dissatisfied, “Okay, okay, Ethan Cole. You don’t have to yell!” Avery was broken up, and Ethan still had his ‘white moonlight’ ex, Chloe St. James. And me? I was Dominic Sterling’s hidden mistress. His fiancée had just returned to the country. Thinking about this, we looked at each other and sighed. Clearly, neither of these men would want to claim these babies. After a long silence, Avery grabbed my hand and said hesitantly, “What if… we just dump the dads and keep the kids?” I thought about it: “Fine. Dominic has been pretty generous over the years. Plus, with the money I made acting, it should be enough to buy a nice place in Australia.” “We can get a dog, a cat. One villa, two moms, two kids.” This is our retirement plan! 4 Let’s go! Even though Ethan was still hounding Avery, they were broken up and not living together, so she could leave anytime. But my situation was much trickier. During that time, I was trying to figure out how to propose ending this relationship, but I couldn’t find the right opportunity. Until one night, Dominic staggered home, completely wasted. The moment the door opened, the smile on my face completely froze. Dominic was half-collapsed on a beautiful woman. And this woman… I had seen her in the media photos taken the day Eleanor returned to the country. Dominic’s fiancée—Isabelle Reed. “Hi, you must be Seraphina Vance. Dominic is drunk. I brought him home.” Her eyes were kind as she looked at me. Different from what I imagined, Isabelle Reed seemed to know everything about me and Dominic. I managed a forced smile, took him from her, and put him on the sofa. Isabelle didn’t leave. She looked around the penthouse, smiled, and asked, “Can I have a glass of water?” I walked to the kitchen island without a word. Her casual chatter followed me. “I heard that while I was abroad, you were the one taking care of Dominic. Thank you.” “I’ve seen your movies. It’s really not easy for a woman without a background to make it in Hollywood.” “Eleanor mentioned it. She said she wanted to meet you at the Sterling family dinner soon. Did Dominic mention it to you?” The hand pouring the water froze mid-air. I turned around and calmly met Isabelle’s eyes. In her gaze, there was no mockery of my hidden status, and no arrogance about her own background. The only thing there was the sheer confidence that belonged to the true, future Mrs. Sterling. The kind of confidence I could never feel, no matter how long I stayed by Dominic’s side. In that moment, the massive stone hanging in my heart finally crushed down. I knew, without a doubt, it was time for me to go. That night, after Dominic fell asleep, I packed up my belongings. Because I always suspected this day would come, I didn’t have much in Dominic’s apartment. I left all the expensive jewelry Dominic had given me. I only took one woven rope bracelet. Dominic and I had gotten them together years ago at a spiritual retreat. We each have one. It was a wish for safety and happiness. I had been trying to think of how to say goodbye with dignity, in person. But perhaps, an in-person goodbye wasn’t necessary. On the gray silk sheets, Dominic’s face was still as breathtaking as the first day I met him. He always thought he chased me. He didn’t know that I fell in love at first sight, too. My heart was filled with bitterness and sadness. I sent him one last message on his phone: [I’m gone. Don’t look for me. Have a nice life.] Before I left, I blocked his number. Dominic Sterling, I hope your life is safe and happy… 5 Avery and I have been living in Melbourne for three years now. We both gave birth to healthy babies. Avery’s son is named Leo, and my daughter is named Maya. When Leo and Maya turned three, Avery started a social media account showing off the kids, but without showing her own face. I opened a high-end bar in Melbourne. Life was great. We had money and free time, and my bar had plenty of hot young bartenders to look at. Until one day, a comment appeared on one of Avery’s videos. [Is it just me, or does this little kid Leo look a lot like Oscar-winning actor Ethan Cole?] Since Ethan had posted childhood photos of himself online before. As soon as this was said, netizens immediately dug up old photos for comparison. Without comparing, you wouldn’t know. Once you compared, it was a total shock. You couldn’t even say they looked alike. They were identical! Leo became an overnight viral sensation! A ton of people started tagging Ethan Cole on Twitter, joking about it. Netizens also asked Avery: [Who’s the dad?] Avery gave a sarcastic reply: [He doesn’t have a dad. Self-cloning.] Seeing netizens questioning if she was a mistress and if the child was illegitimate, she just got sarcastic again. [If you knew who his dad was, you’d think I was incredibly unlucky.] However, the very next second after she posted that, an account named Ethan Cole replied below. [Are you sure about that? Avery Vance.] The account name was Ethan Cole. The profile picture was Ethan Cole. Most importantly, he directly called her Avery Vance. Saying this was just a crazed Ethan Cole fan was a stretch. So Avery was terrified and immediately deleted all her replies and set her account to only allow friends to comment. That night, she came to my bar to complain, terrified that Ethan would find her and take Leo’s custody away. I told her to stay calm. Australia is a massive country. Even if that person really was Ethan Cole, he couldn’t find her exact address just from a few viral TikToks. Seeing her still worrying herself sick, I suggested taking her out to clear her head the next day.

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On the live broadcast of the hit parenting reality show. Every single person there was taking cheap shots at my mom. I blurted out, “Ma’am, my mommy and daddy taught me to be polite when I go out.” “Are you not polite because you don’t have a mommy?” My mom panicked and immediately clamped her hand over my mouth. “Kids say the darndest things! Kids say the darndest things!” The live chat exploded: [Just goes to show, trashy moms raise trashy kids.] But later, I carried my mom through all the show’s games purely on skill. I completely dominated the evil twin boys. And when every single toddler on the show started following me around and calling me “Boss”… The internet changed its tune: [Okay, maybe I was a little too loud earlier…] 1 After I died, I woke up inside a novel. I had transmigrated into the body of the four-year-old daughter of a scandalous, heavily blacklisted actress. My biological dad was literally the richest man in the country. My mom was drop-dead gorgeous. The day I crossed over, I hid in my massive bedroom and laughed to myself for an entire afternoon. With this kind of generational wealth, I couldn’t even imagine what kind of “hardships” I could possibly suffer in this lifetime. The only downside was my mom’s terrible public reputation. The second she popped her head out in public, she got obliterated by the internet. But my mom was a glutton for punishment. Even knowing how bad her reputation was, she still stubbornly and diligently took on jobs. One day, I came home from kindergarten with a miserable look on my face. She scooped me up, showering my face with kisses. “Baby, Mommy accepted an offer for a new show! Do you want to go play with Mommy?” Hearing the words “go play,” my eyes literally sparkled. God knows how agonizingly helpless it feels for a twenty-something soul to be forced to attend kindergarten. Getting my enthusiastic approval, my mom and her agent signed the contract at lightning speed. When my dad found out, he called an emergency family meeting. He started by having a deep, earnest conversation with my mom, gently asking if she really had to take this specific job. My mom slapped the contract on the table. “If I back out now, the penalty is five million.” The air in the massive living room fell dead silent for three seconds. My dad leaned back into the plush sofa, a teasing smirk playing in his eyes. “Evelyn, I’m not bankrupt yet.” Ultimately, I wasn’t fully present for the conclusion of this family meeting. My mom handed me off to the nanny. I sat in my ridiculously extravagant playroom, rolling my eyes so hard I saw my own brain. The filthy transactions of adults! 2 My dad walked into my room with lipstick smeared all over his face. He looked down at his four-year-old child and began his solemn lecture: “Chloe, you’re a big girl now.” “Daddy’s brave little girl can definitely take good care of Mommy, right?” Seeing that I remained completely unmoved, my dad pulled out his ultimate weapon. “If you make sure Mommy has a great time on the show, you can take a whole week off from kindergarten when you get back.” My eyes lit up instantly. God knows I had exhausted every trick in the book trying to skip kindergarten. Evelyn was a softie. As long as I cried hard enough and looked pathetic, she’d cave and let me stay home. But if Julian—my dad—was the one doing the drop-off? He would just give a cold scoff, roll up the sleeves of his bespoke suit, expertly toss me into the classroom, and walk away without a second glance. “Make it two weeks,” I countered. He frowned slightly. He seemed to be wondering why he was negotiating with a toddler. “Forget it. I’ll just pay the five million penalty.” I desperately grabbed onto his suit jacket. “Deal!” 3 The second week after signing the contract, the production crew arrived unannounced. My mom and I had secretly moved into one of our other properties a week prior. Before the cameras even started rolling, my mom’s agent had already greased the palms of the building’s management. The doorbell rang early in the morning. I answered it. Standing right next to the director was the agent lady. I flashed them a massive, brilliant smile. The camera crew immediately shoved their lenses into my face. One of them, probably the field director, asked me in a sickly-sweet voice, “You must be Chloe! Where’s your mommy?” I lifted my chubby little face and told her, “Mommy is sleeping. You can’t bother her.” Then I pushed the heavy door open, inviting them inside. Once the crew was in. They asked the agent if they could shoot some b-roll around the house. Hearing this, I specifically ran over, grabbed the director’s hand, and dragged her toward my mom’s bedroom door. With a deadly serious expression, I declared, “You can’t go in this room!” The director gave a signal, and the cameraman immediately swooped in. On camera, my squishy, dumpling-like face looked incredibly stern. “Mommy works very hard taking care of me! Mommy needs to rest!” As for why I specifically went out of my way to say this… Because I knew the truth. This variety show was a live-streamed event. Which meant that right now, behind those lenses, there were thousands of haters waiting to tear my mom to shreds for any minor mistake. In the original novel, this exact show was the catalyst. My mom inexplicably became the sacrificial lamb used to make another guest look good. The other actress on the show blew up in popularity because she and her son painted a picture of absolute, harmonious perfection. My mom, on the other hand, was cyberbullied so mercilessly that she was forced to retire from the industry. This time, I absolutely refused to let that happen. Only by experiencing it firsthand did I realize… Just how incredible of a mother she truly was. 4 So, on camera, I scurried around the various rooms, looking incredibly busy. While dragging my own little suitcase out to pack, I also took all the luggage my dad had secretly prepared for my mom and laboriously dragged it, piece by piece, into her massive suitcase. The live chat: [Evelyn knew she was going on a show, and she’s still not awake at this hour?] [That’s totally normal. I thought everyone knew Evelyn acts like a diva.] [Her daughter is so cute though! Let Auntie give you a kiss!] [She’s so young, how could she possibly know how to do all this? It’s just a people-pleasing personality.] [Didn’t she marry into a billionaire family?] Just as I was finishing up, my mom stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing her sleepy eyes. She immediately scooped up my busy, hardworking self. She started furiously kissing my chubby cheeks. “How is my baby so cute?” “Mommy’s little sweetheart.” It wasn’t until she suddenly noticed the room full of strangers and cameras… That her face instantly turned beet red. She quickly hid her face behind me. I sighed heavily. Moms! 5 By the time we arrived at the filming location. The other families were already there. My mom and I each dragged a suitcase. Seeing us walk in, the other guests gave the cameras a lukewarm, polite greeting. In the original novel, my mom had tried to drag me over to join their conversation. And was met with thinly veiled mockery. So this time, I grabbed my mom’s hand. I pointed to a chair off to the side. “Tired. I want to sit.” My sweet, milky voice instantly cleared my mom’s brain of any other thoughts. She abandoned the suitcases and effortlessly hoisted me into the chair. Then, she pulled a cheese stick out of her pocket. I munched on the cheese stick while observing the dynamics of the other guests. But before I could even finish it. One of the twin boys from another family spotted my snack. He charged at me like a little torpedo. He smacked his lips. “What are you eating?!” I waved the cheese stick in front of his face. Then, I took a massive bite. Chew, chew… He raised his little hands, trying to follow the movement of the cheese stick, but grabbed nothing but air. Filled with tragic grief, he burst into wails. “Mommy! I want to eat too!” God knows, I only wanted to mess with the kid a little. Unfortunately, I was just pretending to be a kid. He was an actual kid. Seeing him cry, my mom panicked and quickly dug another cheese stick out of her pocket. She had packed extras this morning, terrified I might get fussy in a new environment. But giving him that cheese stick… Made things spiral completely out of control. First, he waved the cheese stick triumphantly at his twin brother. The other twin immediately lunged at him to steal it. In less than three seconds, the two of them were violently wrestling on the floor. The twins’ mother, a famous pop singer named Taylor, rushed over to pull them apart. But their combat skills were surprisingly high, and neither was willing to surrender. When she found out the brawl was caused by a single cheese stick… Taylor’s face turned black. She marched straight toward us. Looking at my mom with outright hostility, she demanded, “Did you give Dylan that cheese stick?” My mom wasn’t very familiar with Taylor. After all, she had been laying low for a long time. Since having me, she only took on minor jobs every year. Plus, the sheer volume of her haters meant that anyone who got close to her risked getting dragged down too, so she naturally didn’t have many friends left in the industry. And right now, the cameras were entirely focused on the brawling twins. Almost no one was paying attention to our corner. Taylor sneered at my mom. “Evelyn, did you do that on purpose?” “I know you’re desperate for a comeback.” “But resorting to cheap stunts to steal screen time?” My mom immediately shielded me behind her, desperately trying to explain that she hadn’t meant any harm. But Taylor wasn’t listening to a word she said. “Hmph. Keep your dirty tricks to yourself. We all know exactly how you slept your way to the top.” How my mom got to the top? No one knows better than me! Obviously, it was because my dad used every manipulative trick in the book to coax and con my mom into marrying him! Seeing this woman acting so aggressively. And even trying to throw mud at my mom, I peeked out from behind her legs. In a sweet, childish voice that was surprisingly loud, I asked, “Ma’am, are you calling my mommy bad names?”

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When I finally got pregnant and was preparing to dump the father and keep the baby, I accidentally discovered my boyfriend was the heir to a massive corporate empire. I patted the one-million-dollar check in my pocket, ready to toss it at him as a breakup fee, and then caught a glimpse of the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist that I had always assumed was a fake. God damn it, he’s actually filthy rich! Terrified he would fight me for custody, I hid my pregnancy and skipped town overnight. [I’m tired of paying for your life! We’re done, you broke loser!] Two days later, I was dropping serious cash in a high-end maternity boutique. Suddenly, someone yanked the hood of my sweatshirt backward. “Baby, care to explain why you’re stocking up on prenatal vitamins?” 1 My family owned a plot of land out in the suburbs. After three generations of hard work, my grandfather had built a massive, sprawling farmhouse on it. It wasn’t pretty. It was just big. So big I could literally ride a Razor scooter laps around the living room. Even though the house was huge, it wasn’t worth much. Because everything surrounding it was just farmland and dirt roads. Until one day, the city council rezoned our area for a massive new sports stadium complex. My childhood home, that big, ugly farmhouse… was demolished. A bright red circle with an ‘X’ was spray-painted on our exterior wall, and the warm home I grew up in vanished. It transformed into a freezing, hard sixty million dollars sitting in our bank account. With a heavy heart, I walked away from my home without looking back, officially becoming a newly minted member of the nouveau riche. 2 I’m an only child. My parents’ expectations for me were incredibly low: just be happy and stay alive. When we were poor, my parents were extremely relaxed about the concept of marriage. “Luna, sweetie, if you find someone you like, get married. If not, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we have a throne to pass down. As long as you’re happy.” Once we became millionaires overnight, their tune changed drastically. “Luna Sterling. You don’t have to get married, but you absolutely must have a child. We actually do have a throne to pass down now.” Look at that. They even started using my full legal name. They were getting formal. I completely agreed with their logic and began my hunt for an outstanding specimen of a man. As everyone knows, truly excellent men rarely circulate on the open market. After five rounds of blind dates, the guys were either gold-diggers drooling over my family’s new fortune, or arrogant heirs from established corporate families who looked down on my “new money” status but still wanted to bleed me dry. Summary: Not a single usable candidate. I gave up on blind dating entirely and decided to source my own material. I looked high and low until my sights landed on an exclusive, high-end private club downtown. I paid a hefty premium just to get my hands on a membership card. Rumor had it their male hosts were top-tier gorgeous, and they strictly sold companionship, not their bodies. Hilarious. I didn’t need them to sell their bodies. If I saw one I liked, wouldn’t a little wave of my finger be enough to hook him? A young, rich, beautiful woman like me is practically impossible to find. A lowly club host? He’d be eating out of the palm of my hand. 3 My master plan failed immediately. I hit a massive roadblock on my very first deployment. I booked a private VIP room and requested the club’s newest, most handsome host to keep me company. The club was massive. Hoping to catch a glimpse of some other eye candy along the way, I refused the hostess’s offer to escort me, just asking for directions instead. I wandered through a maze of hallways, currently standing in front of two doors, deep in thought. Was it room “886” or “668”? Instant amnesia. I pulled out my phone to double-check when the slightly ajar door of room 886 was pushed open by a draft. A deep, raspy male voice drifted out. “Come in.” Oh, sweet Lord. That has to be my guy. His voice was incredible. This was an ultra-exclusive club. “886” was exactly the kind of tacky, uncultured room number a newly rich person like me would pick. I didn’t hesitate. I pushed the door open. Sure enough, a man was leaning back on the leather sofa. His suit jacket was draped over the backrest. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up halfway, revealing lean, muscular forearms. You didn’t even have to look closely to see the prominent veins. His collar wasn’t unbuttoned, but his tie was slightly loosened. That half-undressed, effortless vibe? Who wouldn’t fold instantly? Well, I definitely did. But what stood out even more than his body was his face. If he debuted in Hollywood right now, he’d be an A-list star in minutes. He was on a completely different level than the usual guys you see around. He seemed to have had a few drinks and was resting with his eyes closed. I made a decent amount of noise walking into the room, but he didn’t even twitch an eyelid. I swallowed hard and slowly crept toward him. No wonder his base rate was three thousand dollars just for drinks. For this kind of premium quality, I’d gladly pay ten grand! The man spoke without opening his eyes: “Clean yourself up. We’re going to my room.” Huh? Clean what up? Me? Or him? Go to his room? To do what?! Didn’t they say these guys didn’t sell their bodies?! Coming on this strong right out of the gate… even if he was gorgeous, I had standards! I asked completely seriously, “Can you show me your most recent STD panel first? I’m a little paranoid.” I wasn’t about to catch something and bring it home! The man finally opened his eyes. His brows furrowed tightly. He didn’t say a word. I tried to be accommodating. “I can pay extra.” His face remained a blank, freezing mask. Damn it. Nobody told me these club hosts had such fragile egos! He wouldn’t even show me his medical records! I was physically thrown out of the room by him. I was furious. I was definitely not requesting him next time. No, wait… I probably will. He was seriously, objectively hot. 4 I ran into the hot host again. This time, on my university campus. Hard to believe, but even after five rounds of blind dates, I still hadn’t graduated college. It wasn’t my fault. The decent guys on campus were all taken. The single ones either weren’t interested in dating, or they were total players. Twenty-two is the prime age for everything, including having kids. Have them early, recover early, and they grow up early. My family has money. I didn’t need to stress over education funds. My grand master plan: Get the baby-making done before I turned twenty-five. I still had three years. Spotting the host, I very “casually” shifted my designer bag so the massive ‘LV’ logo was practically flashing in his face. Just a little subtle flexing. He walked right past me without a single reaction. Excellent. You’ve officially secured my attention, sir. I sprinted in front of him and blocked his path. “Hold on! You’re one of the low-income scholarship students here, right?” I saw him with my own two eyes. He just walked out of Room 306 in Building A. The campus PA system had been blasting all morning, announcing a mandatory meeting for all low-income students in that exact room. No wonder he had to moonlight at that shady club. I flashed my most confident smile. “How about this? You become my guy. I’ll give you twenty grand a month, and you never have to do that kind of dirty work again.” He raised an eyebrow. “Twenty grand?” Not enough? Makes sense. His base rate for one night was three grand. I gritted my teeth. “Fifty grand.” He looked at me, an amused, unreadable expression on his face. “Which ‘dirty work’ exactly?” See? I knew there was no problem that throwing more money at couldn’t solve. Since he had accepted my arrangement, he belonged to me now. “You don’t need to go back to that club. I’m taking care of you now.” I laid down my very reasonable terms: “Of course, I still need to see your medical records. I can go with you to the clinic tomorrow.” He narrowed his eyes, clearly calculating something. Suddenly, he smirked. “Deal.” I was incredibly pleased with myself. I had officially secured myself a hot, broke college boy. 5 My broke college boy’s name was Oliver Vance. He wouldn’t tell me anything else about himself. I figured he was probably worried that if news of our arrangement leaked, it would ruin his reputation on campus. As a generous, forgiving sugar mommy, I completely understood. Oliver was in perfect health. Not a single red flag on his medical panel. The only slight issue was… he was incredibly, painfully pure. He wouldn’t even let me hold his hand. It took until month two for hand-holding, and month three for a quick peck on the lips. And then… total stagnation. No further progress. Until the day I graduated. On graduation day, I was buzzing with excitement. By then, I had been paying his allowance for six months. To maximize our time together, I had rented an apartment near campus, and we had been living together for three months. Living together for three months and not crossing the final line? If I told anyone, I wouldn’t even believe it myself. Using my graduation as the perfect excuse, I demanded a gift. Oliver was in the kitchen washing vegetables, prepping dinner. I wrapped my arms around him from behind. “Mr. Vance, I graduated today! Where is my present?” He turned off the faucet. “It’s in my room. I’ll give it to you after dinner.” I shook my head against his back. “No. I don’t want that present.” He chuckled softly. “You haven’t even seen it yet, and you already don’t want it?” I nodded emphatically. “There is only one present I want today.” I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck. “I’ve been paying your bills for six months. It’s time you made a substantial contribution.” “Tonight, your only job is to please your sugar mommy.”

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Chapter 1 While attending a high-end auction with my best friend, I accidentally witnessed my husband—Arthur Sterling, the notoriously ruthless and supposedly devoted heir to the Sterling empire—win a fierce bidding war for a necklace I had admired for months. Yet, the very next day, that exact necklace was resting against the collarbone of his stunningly beautiful new intern. I didn’t cry. I didn’t cause a scene. I simply made a phone call to my contact at the boutique, purchased two hundred identical custom necklaces, and had them delivered to the women’s dormitory at NYU. If he wanted to play the generous benefactor, I’d gladly help him out. I made sure he gave enough gifts to last a lifetime. While I was at it, I had my lawyer friend draft a divorce agreement and had it delivered straight to his desk. On that day, every single girl in Dormitory 1 at NYU received a lavish gift from the CEO’s wife of Sterling Tech. Everyone, except Chloe Vance. … When Arthur Sterling walked into the gala with Chloe Vance on his arm, the party was at its peak. The young, alluring girl clung intimately to Arthur’s arm, her face glowing with a radiant, victorious smile. The crowd surrounding me instantly parted, their faces painted with a mix of pity and awkward amusement. Even I was genuinely surprised that Arthur had the audacity to parade her around at a public event. Ours was an arranged marriage uniting two of the most powerful families in New York. I had assumed he would at least have the decency to save my face. But I was wrong. “What’s with the silence, everyone? Are you all mesmerized by Arthur’s new secretary?” I stepped up and offered the explanation myself. The crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief, murmuring in understanding. Arthur approached me, acting as if absolutely nothing was wrong, and softly called out, “Mia.” Chloe followed suit, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Hi, sister.” Fighting back the urge to gag, I offered them a polite, elegant smile. We were all adults; there was no need to wear our emotions on our sleeves. Besides, in our social circle, the most crucial survival skill was knowing how to put on a mask. You smile when you’re furious. You act affectionate when you’re disgusted. And more importantly, given who Arthur Sterling was, throwing a tantrum here wouldn’t benefit anyone. However, seeing that specific necklace gleaming on Chloe’s neck finally extinguished any remaining warmth in my heart. Just ten minutes ago, I had watched Arthur gently, patiently tuck a stray strand of hair behind Chloe’s ear before carefully pulling her slipped dress strap back into place. Yesterday, when I saw him walking out of the auction house, I had foolishly believed the necklace was for me. A sweet, naive thrill had bloomed in my chest, and I spent the rest of the day eagerly anticipating my surprise. This morning, I had even gone to the salon for a blowout and hired a makeup artist to make sure I looked perfect for the occasion. But hours passed, my styling was done, and the gift never arrived. I had even called him, dropping subtle hints, trying to gauge if he had a surprise waiting for me. The answer was no. But before he hung up, I heard a sweet, whining female voice in the background: “Mr. Sterling, won’t your wife be upset if she finds out?” “No. She’s always been mature and understanding. She won’t mind.” In that exact moment, I realized how painfully naive I had been. Arthur Sterling had probably been dirty for a long time. He was right about one thing: I was mature and understanding. Getting into a catfight with a cheap little homewrecker was beneath me. Chloe trailed closely behind Arthur. She was smiling sweetly at me, but the arrogance and provocation in her eyes were glaringly obvious. I sneered internally. She was just a clueless college student if she actually thought Arthur took her seriously. Staring directly at her neck, I drawled, “That’s a beautiful necklace. A gift from someone special?” Chloe wasn’t stupid. She understood exactly what I was implying. Chapter 2 A broke college student couldn’t afford jewelry of that caliber. Chloe shot me a look of feigned shock before turning to Arthur with an expression that perfectly blended shyness and panic. Right on cue, Arthur stepped in to defend her. “Mia, don’t misunderstand. Chloe had a rough time during her internship this week. As her boss, buying her a little gift to cheer her up is normal. There’s nothing going on between us.” I raised my champagne glass to him, smiling as if I completely understood, then turned away to make a quick phone call to my assistant. A moment later, Arthur’s phone rang, and he stepped aside to take the call. A familiar socialite sauntered over, pretending to make small talk before slyly asking who Chloe was. I wasn’t an idiot. Her question was dripping with mockery. The crowd wasn’t blind. Everyone had seen how fiercely Arthur was protecting the young girl. I answered without skipping a beat, stripping away all the pleasantries. “Probably just a delusional homewrecker trying to sleep her way to the top.” The blood instantly drained from Chloe’s face. She looked utterly humiliated and deeply wronged. Her big, beautiful eyes immediately welled up with tears. What a tragic, innocent little victim. Truly heartbreaking. No wonder Arthur liked her. The socialite clearly hadn’t expected me to be so brutally honest. Recognizing she was out of her depth, she awkwardly excused herself. I crossed my arms, looking Chloe up and down with an amused smirk. “Miss Vance, right? At your age, you should be focusing on your textbooks, studying for your finals, or preparing for grad school. Stop living in a fantasy world. If you keep playing this game, you’re going to lose your dignity and your reputation.” She knew I was humiliating her. Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t formulate a single word. I scoffed internally. Just because I played the role of the elegant, understanding wife didn’t mean I was a doormat she could walk all over. “Sister, I…” “Stop right there,” I interrupted, raising a hand. “My mother only had one child. I don’t have a sister. And we live in the 21st century; the era of concubines calling the wife ‘sister’ is long gone.” Chloe’s tears started falling faster. I was about to deliver another verbal blow when Arthur returned. He walked straight up to me, skipping the pleasantries. “Did you order those necklaces?” My assistant works fast. I nodded smoothly. “Yes.” “Why did you order so many? You don’t even wear that style.” I leaned casually against a marble pillar, my tone teasing. “I’m doing you a favor, darling. College kids have it rough these days. Internships are exhausting. I figured I’d buy them all a little something to boost morale.” Arthur’s perpetually unreadable expression finally cracked. But he quickly masked it. He had always been a master of hiding his emotions. He smoothly slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close, and whispered affectionately in my ear. “It’s just a necklace. If you liked it, I can buy you another one. I don’t care if you scare the interns, but I’d hate to see you get so upset over nothing.” His voice was deep and husky, just like it had been during countless intimate nights. His breath brushed against my ear. In the past, it was a move meant for seduction. Now, it was a calculated tactic to extract Chloe from the mess she was in. I yielded to his grip, placing my hand on his back, and used the leverage to pull him even closer. Matching his tone, I whispered back: “You know exactly what Chloe is trying to do. This isn’t just about the necklace. Arthur, I never cared about your little flings in the past. But don’t forget, I am Mrs. Sterling now. If this blows up, it damages both of us.” “What happened today—I expect it to be the last time.” I delivered the final sentence through gritted teeth. It was a genuine threat. Chapter 3 Amidst the clinking glasses and chatter, the other guests assumed we were just flirting. A wave of good-natured teasing erupted around us. I felt him tense up. I gave his back a light, patronizing pat. Then, I turned, grabbed a fresh glass of champagne, and walked away. When the gala finally wound down and the guests began to leave, I thought I had made myself perfectly clear. My disgust couldn’t have been more obvious. But I had severely underestimated how utterly shameless some people could be. As we were heading out, Chloe insisted on riding in Arthur’s car with us. “Chloe’s dorm is far, and it’s impossible to get an Uber right now. It’s on our way, so I’m just dropping her off.” That was Arthur’s excuse. It was a pathetic, transparent lie, and I called him out immediately. “The dorms are in Brooklyn, and our penthouse is in Manhattan. How exactly is that ‘on our way’?” Arthur’s brow furrowed in visible annoyance, while Chloe looked at me with big, teary eyes. The tableau made it look like I was the villain needlessly bullying a helpless girl. Seeing my refusal to play along, Arthur tried the emotional manipulation route. “Mia, you’ve always been so reasonable…” I cut him off before he could finish. “And if I say no?” Chloe stepped toward me, her eyes red. “Sister, I shouldn’t have taken the necklace you liked. Tonight was my fault. But I really can’t get a ride right now…” “I’ll trade you my favorite perfume for it, okay?” She held out an exquisitely packaged perfume bottle. Judging by the luxury branding, it was clearly another gift from Arthur. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “What does that even smell like? Desperation and cheap tea?” The relentless humiliation finally made Chloe’s face flush a deep, angry crimson. She stood there, awkwardly holding back tears. Arthur, who had maintained his gentlemanly facade all night, finally snapped. His voice was low and dangerous. “Mia, you’re crossing the line.” I scoffed. “This is crossing the line?” “Arthur, don’t forget who hosted this gala tonight. Without my father pulling strings for you, your new merger is dead in the water.” Without waiting for his response, I shoved past the weeping Chloe and got into the car. He was a businessman above all else. He knew how to weigh the pros and cons. He knew exactly what my threat meant. He might be aloof and arrogant, but I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth too. I was raised to be a titan, not a trophy wife. In the corporate world, emotions have very little value. In the end, he got into the car with me. We drove in suffocating silence. I couldn’t care less about fighting a naive college girl over a man. But my status in our social circle meant I couldn’t allow myself to be humiliated. Rumors about Arthur Sterling leaving his wife on the sidewalk for an intern would be a PR disaster. However, when I realized the passenger seat had been readjusted, I had to admit my tolerance for disrespect had a limit. This clueless little girl had managed to push my buttons. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who had messed with my seat. Stuck to the passenger side window control was a bright pink sticky note: “Princess Parking Only.” A surge of blind rage hit me. I wanted nothing more than to kick the man next to me out of a moving vehicle, drive back to the venue, and slap Chloe Vance across the face. Just as I was about to detonate, a phone rang. Chloe’s sobbing voice filled the quiet car. “Arthur… sob… I couldn’t get a cab. I think someone is following me. I’m so scared. Can you come get me…?” Arthur didn’t hesitate for a fraction of a second. He slammed on the brakes, pulling the car violently to the shoulder. He spoke in a frantic, soothing voice. “Okay, don’t panic. Stay exactly where you are. I’m coming to get you.” My hand, which had been reaching to adjust my seat, froze. I turned to look at him in absolute disbelief. Arthur frowned. “Mia, take a cab home. Chloe might be in real danger. I have to go to her.” I let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “We’re in the middle of 5th Avenue. It’s packed with people. There’s a police precinct three blocks from NYU. What kind of danger could she possibly be in?” “Are you her father? If she’s in danger, she should call 911, not you!” Chapter 4 Arthur was rendered speechless by my logic. He closed his eyes in frustration, took a deep breath, and opened them again. “Mia, you’re both women. Can you show a little empathy?” “Are you really going to hold a grudge over a single necklace?” I refused to yield an inch. “Are you blind, Arthur? She’s blatantly provoking me, and you can’t see it? You’re going to abandon your wife on the street for an outsider?” The emotions in Arthur’s eyes shifted rapidly—from anger, to coldness, and finally, to profound disappointment. “Mia, when did you become so irrational and demanding? You used to be better than this.” I scoffed. I’m irrational? “Arthur, this is the first time you’ve ever fought with me over another woman.” Arthur turned his head sharply to stare out the window, clearly signaling he was done with the conversation. “Did you forget our prenuptial agreement? We agreed that even if there was no love between us, there would be mutual respect. You don’t humiliate me with mistresses, and I don’t embarrass you with scandals. This isn’t just about us; it’s about the Sterling and the Harrison families. Are you really going to break the rules for her?” The only sound in the quiet car was Arthur’s heavy breathing. I knew he was wavering. In this tedious, pointless game of tug-of-war, I had won the first round. That night, Arthur and I slept in separate rooms. His excuse was that I was being too aggressive, that I was suffocating him, and that he needed space for both of us to cool down. Fine. It gave me the space I needed to seriously re-evaluate our relationship. Lying in bed, the events of the day replayed in my mind. It was the first time Arthur had ever compromised my dignity for another woman. The Sterlings and the Harrisons were old family friends, but Arthur and I had barely interacted growing up. I only knew the eldest Sterling heir through the brief, dismissive comments made by my elders. The general consensus was that he was a spoiled, useless playboy coasting on his family’s wealth. But at our families’ matchmaking dinner three years ago, I had to admit, I was captivated by his unique charisma. Beneath his handsome, sharp exterior was a sharp, witty mind, and he handled complex situations with effortless grace. So, when our parents suggested marriage, I agreed. With our matching backgrounds and education, there was a strong mutual respect. We finalized the engagement quickly. I hadn’t factored “love” or “feelings” into the equation. Growing up in a corporate dynasty, the first lesson you learn is cost-benefit analysis. After the wedding, we maintained our separate stock portfolios, but our families executed a massive corporate merger, and our respective businesses skyrocketed. I always believed that Arthur and I were simply the most optimal, logical choices for each other. But at some point, he had seemingly started to fall for me. The arrogant, untouchable heir of the Sterling empire would hold me in the middle of the night, whispering sweet nothings and burying his face in my neck like a giant, affectionate dog. In the dead of winter, he would warm my freezing feet inside his own pajamas. When I had terrible cramps, he would personally brew me ginger tea. When it rained, he would tilt the umbrella entirely over me, completely ignoring the fact that his own shoulder was getting soaked. Just a few months ago, he had told me, “Mia, you will always be my first choice.” But the moment Chloe Vance appeared, everything changed in the blink of an eye. After years of navigating the cutthroat corporate world, this was the first time I felt truly, deeply exhausted. My phone buzzed. A WeChat message from Arthur: “Goodnight, Mia.” Followed by a cute sticker of a cartoon cat patting another cat’s head. Chapter 5 That was Arthur. Even in the middle of a cold war, he maintained his flawless poker face. Even when we were fighting, he played the role of the perfect husband to the letter. I had a bit of a headache from the champagne, so I went to the kitchen to pour a glass of milk. But when I reached for my favorite ceramic mug, I noticed a hairline fracture near the handle. I summoned the housekeeper and demanded to know who had touched it. The housekeeper trembled. “We don’t know, ma’am! You gave strict orders that we were never to wash this mug. None of the staff have touched it.” She was right. I had given that order. For my birthday last year, Arthur had commissioned this piece from my favorite master ceramicist. He had flown out of his way to Germany during a business trip just to pick it up. I cherished it deeply. But now, it was damaged. The housekeeper nervously asked if I wanted her to send it out for repairs. I said no. Because it was so precious, even the smallest flaw was unacceptable. A few minutes later, I pulled up the kitchen security footage on my phone. The video showed Chloe picking up my mug, flashing a malicious smirk, and intentionally dropping it into the stainless steel sink. Arthur actually brought her to our home. The necklace yesterday had annoyed me because it was a waste of a beautiful piece of jewelry. Chloe lacked the class to wear it; putting it on her was like draping silk over a pig. But coming into my home, breaking my things, and throwing a tantrum on my territory? That was a blatant, unforgivable declaration of war. A blinding rage erupted in my chest, burning away every ounce of my rationality. With a violent sweep of my arm, I sent the precious ceramic mug crashing to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. And along with it, my marriage to Arthur Sterling shattered too. I walked back into my bedroom and dialed my lawyer. “Hey, Julian. Draft a divorce agreement for me. I need it ASAP.” I am Mia Harrison. If a cup is cracked, I smash it completely. And if a man is dirty, I throw him out. When I woke up the next morning, Arthur was nowhere to be found. The staff told me he had taken a phone call and rushed out in a panic. Another crisis with Chloe, I assume. I showered, ate breakfast, and drove myself to work. As I was walking into the corporate headquarters, a young girl collided with me. The hot congee she was holding spilled entirely over the skirt of my dress. She panicked, stammering frantic apologies while desperately trying to wipe the stain off my dress with a crumpled tissue. I was about to instinctively say it was fine, but the girl suddenly dropped to her knees, grabbing my arm and begging for forgiveness. Even though it was the middle of summer, she was wearing a worn-out, heavy winter coat. Her face was smudged with dirt, but her bone structure was striking. When she looked up at me, a strange sense of familiarity hit me, but I couldn’t place her face. I ignored her bizarre, dramatic display and gestured for the security guards to escort her away. But as I reached into my bag for a wet wipe, I realized my phone was gone. Instantly understanding what had just happened, I grabbed the girl by the arm, reached into the pocket of her heavy coat, and pulled out my phone. The sheer audacity made my blood boil. The girl finally seemed to realize she was in serious trouble. She stayed on her knees, sobbing and begging me to let her go. I stared down at her with absolute disgust and signaled the guards to drag her away. “Learn to have some self-respect. Being born poor isn’t your fault, but you have two hands and two feet. You don’t have to resort to being a thief.” Right at that moment, Arthur stepped out of his car across the street and witnessed the entire scene. Across the busy avenue, the look he gave me was filled with nothing but cold, judgmental distance.

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My husband went with me to the spa to get a body treatment. The outspoken spa owner didn’t hold back. “Bro, looking at how wide your wife’s hips are, she’s definitely had a few kids.” “She’s got stretch marks all over, too. What do you mean you guys don’t have kids? Is she some retired escort or something?” “I’ve seen this a million times. They specifically look for honest guys like you to settle down with. You’ve been conned.” I had explicitly told this owner that my husband and I didn’t have kids due to health reasons. Yet, she was acting completely ignorant, playing dumb. It seemed she wasn’t after my wallet; she was after my husband. Unfortunately for her, she picked the wrong target. My husband was nothing more than a kept man living off my dime… … My husband, Arthur, and I both happened to have a rare day off. I decided to go with him to pick up the sports car he’d been dreaming of, and then he accompanied me to get a facial. I frequented this particular spa. The owner was blunt and spoke her mind, and I actually appreciated her straightforward personality. More importantly, her massage techniques were rumored to be the best in the industry. If I enjoyed the service this time, I was planning to discuss partnering with her to turn her spa into a franchise. Arthur dutifully held all the shopping bags from our earlier spree. As I walked into the treatment room, he called out, “Honey, since you’ve been so great today, I’m rewarding you with a hundred-thousand-dollar VIP card. Where do I sign up?” Seeing his smug little face, I jutted my chin toward the front desk. I completely missed the flash of calculation in the owner’s eyes. During the body treatment, the owner was clearly distracted. Her massage technique was sloppy and unprofessional. But her mouth wouldn’t stop running. “Is that your husband? Wow, you are so lucky. He’s gorgeous.” “And he just drops a hundred grand like it’s nothing! Where did you snag a rich guy like that?” For some reason, the word “snag” rubbed me the wrong way. I replied dismissively, “Yeah, that’s my husband. He’s just like that.” The owner ignored my annoyed tone and said with a hint of disdain, “Did you hook up with him while you were working retail? I’m telling you, the most important thing for us women is marrying a good man. Look at me…” I cut her off sharply. “What do you mean ‘hook up’? We had a normal relationship. It was love at first sight. Why does it sound so trashy coming from you?” Since when was this owner so incredibly chatty? Seeing I was actually angry, the owner pursed her lips. “You know how I am, I just speak my mind. It was a joke! Don’t take it so seriously.” “I’ll stop talking. I won’t say another word, okay?” Even though she stayed quiet after that, I felt incredibly irritated. The mood for relaxation was completely ruined. It wasn’t until she applied my face mask and left the room that the suffocating feeling lifted slightly. A little later, I needed to use the restroom and stepped out of the room. Right as I reached the door, I heard the owner chatting with Arthur. “Bro, is the lady in there your wife? She’s so lucky. You really don’t hold back when spending on her.” “But bro, looking at how wide her hips are, she’s definitely had a few kids.” Arthur frowned, clearly unhappy. “What are you talking about? My wife has never had children.” The owner gasped, covering her mouth as if she’d made a terrible slip of the tongue. “Her hips are so wide, I just assumed she’d given birth.” “What do you mean you don’t have kids? Is she a retired escort or something?” “While I was doing her body treatment, I saw stretch marks all over her. You only get those from having babies, right?” “Oh, I must have seen wrong. You know me, I have this terrible habit of just blurting things out.” The owner feigned a look of horror, acting as if she had accidentally revealed a terrible truth. The anger in my chest exploded into a raging inferno. Children were the absolute most sensitive topic for Arthur and me. We had been trying for years without success. The doctors said the issue was with me. Desperate to conceive, I took a bunch of “miracle” supplements my mother-in-law gave me. I later found out they were packed with hormones. They caused me to gain a massive amount of weight, and I had to work incredibly hard to lose it over the last few years. My skin had stretched and shrunk, inevitably leaving behind stretch marks. It was my deepest, most hidden insecurity. And now, this woman was broadcasting it loudly to my husband. It felt like my entire body was on fire. The owner kept going. “Bro, you look like an honest guy. I’m a straight shooter, so I’ll just tell it to you straight.” “The woman lying in there? She was probably turning tricks a few years ago. Having abortions ruined her body. That’s why she’s never had a kid but still has all the aftereffects.” “You’ve been played for a fool, you rich, clueless sugar daddy.” The owner patted Arthur’s shoulder, wearing an expression that screamed, ‘I’m just looking out for you.’ I let out a cold, sharp laugh and stepped out. “Oh really? So I found myself a clueless sugar daddy, and now you want to take over?” “Why don’t I just wrap him up in a bow for you!” Chapter 2 Arthur jumped like he’d been electrocuted and quickly scrambled over to my side. When the owner slandered me earlier, implying I had given birth because of my hips, Arthur should have immediately defended me. Instead, he hadn’t said a single word. He just stood there, dumbly listening to her talk trash about me. Half of my fury was directed at him. But I would deal with him later. As for the spa owner, I wasn’t going to let this slide. “Everything you just said? I recorded every single word on my phone.” “Get ready to be sued for defamation.” I waved my phone at her, a tight, cold smile on my face. Hearing this, the owner immediately plastered on a fawning, sycophantic smile. “Girl, you know how I am! I don’t have a filter.” “I was just joking around with your husband! Don’t be mad. Look, I’ll even slap my own mouth, okay?” She mock-slapped her own cheeks a few times, putting on a pathetic show of apologizing. “A joke? Why don’t you joke about yourself sleeping around until your brain rotted?” “If I stab you and then say ‘sorry’, does that mean I don’t face any legal consequences?” “Let me make this clear: this isn’t over. Furthermore, that hundred-thousand-dollar VIP membership my husband just bought? Refund it immediately. Otherwise, I’m calling the Consumer Protection Bureau to personally oversee your refund process.” Ignoring the owner’s frantic apologies trailing behind me, I turned on my heel and marched straight to my car. Right before I got in, I saw the owner weakly grabbing Arthur’s arm, looking like she was about to drop to her knees in front of him. But as she supposedly lost her balance, she very deliberately pressed her body against his. If I still didn’t understand what was happening, I would be a complete idiot. This bitch was trying to steal my husband! It took Arthur a full ten minutes before he finally strolled over and got into the car. He spent the entire drive nervously studying my face. Only after I finally shot him a glare did he cautiously speak. “Baby, how about we just let this go?” “Let it go? Your wife gets accused of being an escort, and you stand there like a spineless coward, and you’re telling me to let it go?” “I haven’t even settled the score with you yet. Someone slanders me like that, and you don’t even have the guts to defend me. Are you even a man?” Seeing I was genuinely furious, Arthur didn’t dare push it. He replied meekly, “I’m a business owner now, too. If I had started screaming at her right then and there, it would have been so embarrassing. Don’t I deserve some dignity?” “Dignity?” I scoffed loudly. “Then go spend the rest of your life with your ‘dignity.’ I’m staying at the office for a while. Don’t come looking for me until you figure out what you did wrong.” I slammed the door of my self-driving Xiaomi SU7 as it parked itself in front of me. It seemed Arthur had truly forgotten who held the power in this relationship. Ever since we got married and he got fired from his job, he had become a stay-at-home husband. Later, when I started having health issues, he claimed he needed to dedicate all his time to taking care of me and refused to go back to work. I gave him a six-figure allowance every single month, and I rarely ever asked what he spent it on. I always figured, he was a college grad from a good school, and an only child. If I couldn’t give him kids, the least I could do was make his life comfortable. Just last month, I even funded a private, upscale restaurant for him and spent a fortune hiring a top-tier PR firm to market it. It was actually turning a decent profit. He makes a few bucks, and suddenly it goes straight to his head. Now he’s talking to me about ‘dignity’. Chapter 3 That same afternoon, I received the hundred-thousand-dollar refund from the spa. I was so angry I didn’t go home for days, throwing myself entirely into my work projects. By the time I finally finished, half a month had passed. Right on cue, Arthur called. “Honey, I’ve thought about it a lot, and I was completely wrong.” “I just felt so insecure about relying on you financially. I was terrified you looked down on me, which is why I was so obsessed with saving face.” “I’m a man, too. Sometimes I just want my wife to look up to me. You understand, right?” “We’ve been through so much together. You know how much I love you.” Arthur was lowering his head and admitting fault. Even though I was still annoyed, I decided to let it go. Back when the doctors told me I likely couldn’t conceive, Arthur had fought his mother single-handedly and absolutely refused to divorce me. He even put her in the hospital from the stress of their arguments, but he never compromised. I believed he loved me. He just… needed his ego stroked a little. When I didn’t say anything, Arthur continued over the phone: “Today is your dad’s birthday, and it’s the Mid-Autumn Festival. To make it up to you, I booked a private room at that high-end medicinal cuisine restaurant, and I invited my parents too.” “We can all have a nice, happy family dinner together.” I thought about it and agreed. That evening, I went to the restaurant as planned. For years, Arthur and I had told everyone we were voluntarily child-free. His mother hated it at first, but eventually, she was forced to accept it. So, the family dinner was actually quite pleasant. Until someone completely ignored the waiters trying to stop them and barged into our private room. It was the spa owner. I had to admit, half a month later, she looked even more glamorous. I frowned, completely confused. I had only demanded a refund last time. I hadn’t actually called the police or sued her. What was she doing here? The owner suddenly dropped to her knees and grabbed my legs. “Please! I know I’m blunt and I offended you, but I’ll kowtow to you, okay?!” “My spa is just a tiny little business. Please, just let me go!” “I have a sick, elderly mother to take care of! I really can’t afford to lose this business!” She slammed her forehead against the floor three times. I was completely baffled. “I didn’t call the police. If your business is failing, what does that have to do with me?” I pulled my legs away from her in disgust and instinctively leaned back in my chair. “But you made such a huge scene at the spa that day! So many customers heard everything!” “They secretly recorded videos and posted them online! So many of my VIP members demanded refunds!” “I literally can’t survive anymore!” I honestly had no idea. I had been buried in work for the past two weeks and hadn’t spent a second online. But even so, what did that have to do with me? She brought this entirely upon herself. “So what do you want me to do? I can’t control what other people do.” The owner sobbed pitifully, looking like she was about to faint. “Just post a statement online! Say that everything I said that day was completely true, and that you only attacked me because you were embarrassed and exposed!” “I’m begging you! My mom needs money for her medication! I cannot lose this spa!” Hearing her insane demand, I almost laughed out loud. “You want me to publicly admit to your vile, defamatory lies?! Are you out of your mind?!” “Get out. You don’t belong here. If I ever see your face again, I’m calling the cops.” Chapter 4 It was honestly hilarious. To think I actually considered doing business with such a despicable person. Thank god I saw her true colors early on. Otherwise, my investment would have gone straight down the drain. I stood up abruptly. The owner, either from momentum or because I pulled away, dramatically collapsed backward. And landed perfectly across Arthur’s lap. Arthur jumped up as if he had been electrocuted. “Don’t touch me! Get away!” The owner, acting like a fragile, helpless leaf, was shoved aside by Arthur. I don’t know if she just decided she had nothing left to lose, or if her true malice simply took over. She suddenly stood up, pointed directly at my face, and started screaming: “You little bitch! I gave you an inch and you tried to take a mile!” “You ruined your own body sleeping around before you got married, and now you shamelessly claim you’re ‘child-free’? Spit! I despise cheap whores like you who live off men!” “I might have a sharp tongue, but every penny I earn is clean! Unlike you! You’re covered in stretch marks, your hips are wider than a woman who’s popped out eight kids, and you still have the nerve to pretend you chose not to have kids!” “If I were your husband or your mother-in-law, I’d throw you out on the street and tell you to go hang yourself!” Her sudden, vicious switch gave me whiplash. I was stunned for a second. SLAP! I instinctively grabbed my right cheek. The pain made my entire face go numb. My mother-in-law, her eyes bloodshot with rage, was trembling violently. She pointed at me and screamed: “I knew it! I knew there was no way my son would just randomly decide not to have kids! You’re just a barren old hen who can’t lay an egg!” “A cheap slut like you saw how honest my son is and decided to trap him!” “My son is a genius! He scored a 680 on his college entrance exams! Marrying a trashy girl from a trashy college like you is the worst luck he’s ever had! If I don’t beat you to death today, my name isn’t Martha!” My mother-in-law grew up working on a farm. Even though I had moved her to the city years ago and pampered her, she was still as strong as an ox. She lunged forward, shoved me violently to the floor, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and slapped me across the face again and again. My dad finally snapped out of his shock and kicked my mother-in-law hard, knocking her off me. Seeing his mother get kicked, Arthur flew into a blind rage. He punched my dad square in the face, knocking him to the floor. My dad’s head smashed directly into the sharp corner of a heavy wooden table. Blood gushed everywhere. My dad instantly lost consciousness. I was paralyzed with terror. My mom carefully laid my dad flat on the ground. I finally freed my hands to call 911. But the spa owner violently kicked my phone out of my hand. “Don’t let her call the cops! If she calls the cops, Arthur will get arrested!” Hearing that, my mother-in-law immediately grabbed my phone and threw it into a boiling pot of chicken soup. She blocked the door with her body, looking ready to murder anyone who tried to pass. “Let’s see who dares to arrest my son! You’ll have to step over my dead body!” I ignored the scalding heat of the soup and reached in to grab my phone, but it was already completely dead. By some horrible coincidence, my mom’s phone had died earlier that evening. “Arthur! This is your father-in-law! He’s always treated you so well! Call 911 right now!” I screamed frantically. But Arthur just stood there, watching coldly. “Honey, I have to say, you really pushed it too far this time.” “Your dad brought this on himself. Who kicks their own mother-in-law?” “If you promise, right here and now, that the second we walk out that door, you will not press charges against me… then I’ll call 911.” I looked down. My dad’s face was turning an alarming shade of pale. The blood was pooling, staining the floor a horrifying red. My mom was sobbing uncontrollably, holding my dad’s hand, shaking violently. Chapter 5 Waiters were pounding on the door from outside, asking what was wrong. My mother-in-law locked the deadbolt and kept her body pressed against the door. “Arthur, I promise you. The second we leave this room, I will absolutely not hold you legally responsible.” I swore, hitting my chest for emphasis. But then, the spa owner pulled out her phone, started recording, and shoved the camera right in my face. “Say that your dad hit his own head! Say that the reason you can’t have kids is because you ruined your own body sleeping around! Say it!” The phone was practically touching my nose. I looked at the man sitting comfortably in the captain’s chair. My heart shattered into a million pieces. “Arthur, is this really what you want? Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” I stood up and stared dead into the owner’s camera. “I, Chloe Vance, declare that my father’s head injury… was caused directly by Arthur.” Thud. A heavy arc flew through the air. I kicked the spa owner squarely in the chest, sending her crashing into the wall. I spun around, grabbed a heavy meat fork from the dining table, and leaped in front of my mother-in-law. I jammed the fork directly into the side of her neck, right over her carotid artery. I only pushed it deep enough to draw blood. “Open the door. Or I will sever her artery and let her die right here alongside my dad.” Seeing the blood dripping down her neck, my mother-in-law started wailing like a banshee. She opened the door immediately. Waiters rushed in and carefully carried my dad out. My mother-in-law, clutching her bleeding neck, kept alternating between demanding someone call the police for her, and demanding they call an ambulance for her. Nobody paid any attention to her. After all, I was the one who owned this restaurant. Thank god my dad was okay. The doctor said if we had been even a few minutes later, he wouldn’t have made it. The moment I saw my dad was out of danger, something inside my brain simply snapped… The entire situation had been too chaotic for me to think clearly. But looking back now, the whole night was full of red flags. For example, how did the spa owner know exactly where our private family dinner was taking place? For example, why did the owner call Arthur by his first name when telling his mother to block the door? For example, when the owner fell onto Arthur’s lap, his reaction of jumping up seemed incredibly exaggerated and theatrical. My woman’s intuition screamed that this wasn’t just a simple coincidence. I accessed the security cameras in our house. I scrubbed back two weeks. Nothing unusual. I checked Arthur’s credit card statements for the last month. Just normal expenses—food, drinks, shopping. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. However, a single transfer to a real estate agency caught my eye. Following the paper trail, I quickly discovered the truth: Arthur and the spa owner were actually living together. Arthur had used my money to rent an apartment for the owner, located just a few blocks from her spa. I secretly trailed them for a few days. Sure enough, the husband who hadn’t shown his face once while my dad was in the hospital… Was playing the role of a loving, devoted husband to the spa owner. They went grocery shopping together, cooked together, walked the dog together, and even showered together. Since they were so happy, I decided to give them a very special gift. Chapter 6 I pressed charges against Arthur for Aggravated Assault and simultaneously filed for divorce, demanding he leave with absolutely nothing. The restaurant’s security cameras had captured him violently punching my dad and knocking him into the table in crystal-clear high definition. I was not letting this go. When Arthur was arrested and thrown into a holding cell, he looked at me with pure disgust. “You really don’t know how good you have it. You’re barren, and I didn’t even care, and you still called the cops on me.” “Lily was right. You’re just a cheap slut who found an honest guy to settle down with. Otherwise, how could a woman possibly have this much money?” “All that weight you gained ‘trying to get pregnant’? Lily told me everything. You gained that weight carrying a baby for your rich sugar daddy!” “If you want a divorce, fine! You think I’m scared of you? I’m not a loser. I have my own business now!” Arthur had completely lost his mind, rambling incoherently. The suffocating knot that had been tight in my chest for days instantly vanished. If he wanted to tear off the mask, fine. From now on, we walk our separate paths. I will thrive, and I will make sure you suffer. Arthur had signed an ironclad prenup before we got married. He couldn’t touch a single penny of my assets. Except, of course, for the private restaurant I had invested in for him. Furthermore, he was sentenced to six months in jail for assault and ordered to pay $20,000 in restitution. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was enough to make him miserable. As for the spa owner, Lily, I wasn’t letting her off the hook either. I hired a private investigator. Turns out, she was actually married. Her husband worked out of state year-round, so they rarely saw each other, giving Lily the perfect opportunity to play the field. I mailed photos of Lily and Arthur cohabitating directly to her husband. Sure enough, that very night, I received a video. Lily’s husband had beaten her to a pulp. They had smashed everything in their house to pieces. Lily, pointing a bloody finger at her husband, screamed that he was a useless loser. She told him not to get in the way of her getting rich. She bragged that once Arthur got out of jail, she was going to be a wealthy socialite. She said that even if he didn’t want a divorce, she was filing for one anyway. The couple fought for an entire night. Since I have such a kind heart… I also arranged for Lily’s mother-in-law to be brought into the city from her rural village. This old lady was a force of nature. She sat outside Lily’s apartment complex and screamed curses at her for seven days and seven nights straight. She even slept on a piece of cardboard by the front gate. She hurled every profane insult in the book, loudly proclaiming to the entire neighborhood that Lily was a cheap prostitute selling herself in the city. She claimed Lily’s “spa” was actually a brothel. And now that Lily had snagged a rich sugar daddy, she wanted to dump her son? Not a chance in hell. She swore that as long as she had breath in her lungs, she would never let Lily live in peace. The apartment complex Lily lived in was the one Arthur had rented. Now, her reputation in the neighborhood was completely destroyed. Desperate to marry Arthur, Lily sold her spa for pennies on the dollar. She paid her mother-in-law a $200,000 settlement just to get the divorce finalized. Then, she quietly moved into a rundown, anonymous apartment complex to wait for Arthur to get out of jail. I knew exactly what she was thinking. She was still dreaming her sweet little dream of becoming a wealthy socialite! Well, I was here to tell her: Keep dreaming! Because Arthur’s precious, one-and-only private restaurant was on the verge of bankruptcy.

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On the day his mistress gave birth, Arthur gave the newborn baby to me as a birthday present. In front of everyone, Arthur asked me if this child was enough to make me finally give up on him. In that moment, I knew there would never be anything between us. So, after chasing him for seven years, I chose to let go for the first time. Seeing my surrender, Arthur didn’t even glance at the child. Instead, he stroked my hair with ultimate tenderness. “Sera, no matter who you like in the future, Arthur will help you get him.” Later, I got together with his best friend. The usually cold and arrogant man went crazy, trying to stop the wedding that everyone else was blessing. 1 Someone told me that Arthur’s mistress was pregnant. I didn’t believe it. But late at night, I still knocked on the door of Arthur, who had just returned. There was the sound of running water in the room. Arthur opened the door for me, wrapped in a towel. “Come in.” I subconsciously clenched my fists, looking at the fiancé I had secretly loved for seven years. I slowly walked into his room. The man, with wet hair, sat lazily on the sofa, casually pouring himself a glass of red wine. He looked at me standing at the door with a playful expression. “What do you want from me?” I looked down at my toes, not knowing how to ask. I’ve always known. Arthur didn’t like his fiancée, who was five years younger than him. But I really, really liked him. I liked him so much that even though he was never short of women, I never asked him about it once. But today, after hearing that his long-time mistress was pregnant. It was the first time I lost my composure and ran over to confront him. While I was lost in thought, Arthur had already walked up to me with a wine glass. He pinched my chin with his large, unyielding hand. He handed the half-finished glass of red wine to my lips. “Sera, be good, drink it. “Tomorrow is your birthday. I’ve prepared a birthday present for you. You’ll like it.” There was an inexplicable excitement in the man’s low laughter. That night, I had long forgotten the reason I went to see him. I lay in bed with flushed cheeks, listening to the violent beating of my heart. Looking forward to tomorrow. 2 For this birthday party, Arthur invited almost everyone in our circle. It was exceptionally grand. But until the end of the party, the man who said he was going to give me a present never showed up. I stared stubbornly out the main door. The flame that had burned in my heart all night seemed to have been frozen by ice. Arthur, who had always hated and resisted this marriage. How could he suddenly change his temper? Just as I turned around in disappointment, a gentle, magnetic male voice came from afar. “Sera!” The man in the expensive black suit finally arrived. Behind him was a middle-aged woman dressed as a nanny, who seemed to be holding something in her arms. Arthur looked at me intensely. “Did you wait long? I went to get your present.” Under my nervous and expectant gaze, a corner of the child in the woman’s arms was revealed. “My newborn son, Sera, is for you.” The smile on Arthur’s face disappeared at some point. He stared at me fixedly. At the moment our eyes met, I suddenly understood the meaning in his eyes. Before anyone at the scene could react, Arthur spoke again. “Sera, is one child enough to make you give up on me? “If not, give me a year, and I’ll give you another one.” I couldn’t describe the feeling. In that moment, I seemed to lose all my emotions, like a marionette with broken strings. I just stood there blankly. I heard a crisp slap, which instantly rang out in the quiet space. 3 From the study came Arthur’s muffled grunts of pain; two canes had been broken. He never bowed his head to admit his mistake. When I knocked and entered, Arthur was kneeling on the floor with his back straight. He glanced at me coldly. As if speaking for me to hear, he opened his thin lips. “I won’t marry Sera, not even if I die. “If you force me to marry her again, I’ll have a bunch of illegitimate children outside for her to raise.” Arthur’s grandfather glared, raising the spare cane beside him high. “How is Sera inferior to those women outside? What exactly do you dislike about her?” Arthur turned his head, his indifferent gaze falling on me. Just one look made my blood run cold. Years of companionship hadn’t stirred the slightest affection in him for me. In that moment, I knew there was no possibility between us. “Grandpa, let’s cancel the engagement.” I looked up, meeting his grandfather’s heartbroken gaze, and slowly took off the jade bracelet on my wrist. “I don’t think I’m inferior to anyone else. If he doesn’t like me, someone else will.” At my insistence, we exchanged back our engagement tokens. This engagement, which had lasted for over a decade, finally ceased to be the bond between us, just as he wished. Arthur struggled to get up from the floor, a flicker of emotion in his eyes as he looked at me. He didn’t expect me to give him up so readily. “Sera, can you really resist pestering me?” I nodded. Arthur’s gaze lingered on me, seemingly still unconvinced by my promise. I gave a bitter smile. “Arthur, I won’t like you anymore.” The man’s eyelashes trembled, and after a moment of silence. He gave a soft “Hmm.” When the middle-aged woman came in holding the crying child, Arthur didn’t even glance at the baby. He stepped forward, leaving us no way out, and touched my hair with extreme gentleness. “Sera, no matter who you like in the future, Arthur will help you get him.” That day, I didn’t respond. Because starting today, I had completely kicked him out of my world. 4 The day I moved out of the Sterling estate, I didn’t take anything related to Arthur. I declined his grandfather’s repeated requests to stay. Carrying only a suitcase, I left the Sterling home where I had lived for over a decade. But just as I reached the door, a girl ran towards me, blocking my way. The moment the girl looked up, I recognized her instantly. She was the woman who had been with Arthur the longest, and the biological mother of his son. The girl recognized me too. She bit her lip tightly, helpless tears falling before me. “Ms. Vance, please don’t take my child.” The girl took a deep breath, putting on a pained expression. “I know you don’t like me staying by Arthur’s side. As long as you return the child to me. “I can… leave him.” My heart suddenly ached. All these years chasing after Arthur, in their eyes, I was just a vicious fiancée who relentlessly clung to him and used every trick in the book. I laughed self-deprecatingly and was about to speak. Arthur got out of the car. “Don’t worry, no one can take our child.” With his long legs, the man reached the girl in a few strides. The girl seemed to have found her anchor. She leaned weakly against Arthur, tears streaming down her face. Arthur wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist and looked at me warningly. “Sera, don’t forget your promise.” I gestured to the suitcase in my hand. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.” Arthur’s gaze swept over, and when he saw the suitcase in my hand. His face suddenly grew colder. “Hmph, leaving the Sterling house right after breaking the engagement, outsiders will think our family went bankrupt and can’t afford to keep you. “Sera, I won’t allow you to leave.” 5 My grip on the suitcase tightened slightly, meeting Arthur’s icy stare. “Without the engagement, if I stay any longer, people will really start talking.” With that, I tried to walk down the steps. But Arthur grabbed my arm tightly. “I said, I won’t allow you to leave.” In my memory, this was the first time Arthur had lost his temper with me. For someone he cared so little about, even a glance from him was a luxury. But now, I suddenly found this man incomprehensible. Regardless of what he said, I couldn’t possibly stay. I forcefully pulled his large hand off my arm and looked at the girl behind him, who had stopped crying. “Ms. Shen is still here, Arthur, you should be mindful of boundaries. “When you marry Ms. Shen in the future, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be here.” Arthur was truly angry now. He shoved the suitcase beside me backward, and it instantly clattered down the steps. His face was taut, his eyes dark, staring at me for a long time. Suddenly, he laughed. “Right, I forgot. Xinran and my son are moving in today. It would indeed be inconvenient if you stayed. “Your room can perfectly serve as my son’s nursery. Even if you didn’t want to leave today, I would have made you. Sera, get out!” After he finished, Arthur didn’t spare me another glance. Holding the hand of a secretly delighted Shen Xinran, he went inside without looking back. The heavy door slammed shut with a bang. I stood outside, picking up the suitcase with a broken corner. I didn’t feel much sadness. Instead, I felt a sense of relief. Relief that after seven years of loving Arthur, I finally stopped. That day, I straightened my back and left, firm and resolute.

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Chapter 1 My husband couldn’t forget his “one that got away.” In the VIP room of a club, drunk out of his mind, he confessed his truth to his friends: “I’ve loved her for years. It killed me that she got married before I could confess. And now that she’s finally divorced, it kills me that I’m married.” I wasn’t angry. I still stayed by his side. My husband despised me. He saw me as a pathetic, clingy doormat with no personality, an obstacle standing between him and his true love. He desperately wanted to divorce me. But every time he brought it up, I refused. What he didn’t know was that he was just my assigned target. I only needed to reject his demand for a divorce three times, and the system would forcibly terminate my mission. … When I rushed to the club through the pouring rain, I arrived just in time to hear Arthur Sterling’s confession: “I’ve loved her for years, but before I could tell her, she got married.” “And now that she’s finally divorced, I’m the one who’s tied down.” One of his frat brothers teased him, “You could always just get a divorce, man.” Arthur’s drunken voice dripped with disdain and contempt. “That woman is obsessed with me. She’s practically psychotic. Do you really think she’d ever agree to a divorce?” “You guys have no idea. Every time I see her hovering around me, I get sick to my stomach. She has absolutely no personality, no sense of self.” “She couldn’t even compare to one of Chloe’s fingernails.” I stood frozen in the hallway outside the open door. Behind me, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed. It was Arthur’s beloved “one that got away,” Chloe Vance. “Mia, you’re here. Why aren’t you going inside?” she asked, her voice light and musical. She flashed me a brilliant, arrogant smile, her pretty eyes glinting with malice. “What are you eavesdropping on?” The men inside suddenly noticed me. The color drained from their faces, and they shot guilty, panicked looks at Arthur. For a split second, Arthur looked sober and terrified, but his expression instantly hardened into ice. “You heard all of that?” There were too many people in the room. To save Arthur’s face, I played dumb. “Heard what? I just got here.” Arthur let out a cold, disgusted laugh and turned his head away, refusing to look at me. I walked into the room to help him up. “It’s really late. Let’s go home.” Arthur violently shoved me away without a shred of hesitation. He snapped impatiently, “Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t coming home tonight? Why did you track me down? Do you have any idea how annoying you are?” He was drunk, so he didn’t bother hiding his temper. His expression was a terrifying, vicious scowl I had never seen before. It made him look like a complete stranger. Actually, maybe not a stranger. He had been treating me like this for a while now. Ever since his “true love” announced her divorce. “Arthur, don’t talk to Mia like that. She only came to pick you up because she cares about you,” Chloe chimed in with sickeningly fake sweetness. “How about this: Mia and I will take you home together. Is that okay?” Arthur looked at Chloe’s face, and his features softened visibly. “Okay.” So, I ended up driving, while Arthur and Chloe squeezed into the backseat together. I don’t know if Arthur was actually blackout drunk or just doing it on purpose, but he laid his head directly on Chloe’s lap, resting there intimately like they were deeply in love. It made my eyes burn. Chloe offered a sickly-sweet apology. “Mia, please don’t misunderstand. Arthur is just drunk. I really hope you two don’t fight because of me.” I didn’t say a word. I had absolutely zero desire to waste my energy interacting with a manipulative homewrecker. But Chloe just wouldn’t shut up. “You really do have a boring personality. No wonder you and Arthur haven’t developed any real feelings after being married for five years.” Chapter 2 Those words actually stung. Yeah. Once upon a time, I had genuinely fantasized about the whole “arranged marriage turning into true love” trope with him. But at the end of the day, Arthur always loved his “one that got away” more. When the car pulled up to the estate, Chloe completely ignored me and practically carried Arthur inside by herself. I didn’t stop her. I just sat in the driver’s seat, looking at the photo I had just taken on my phone. The next day, when Arthur sobered up, I shoved the photo in his face. It was a picture of him sleeping peacefully on Chloe’s lap, while she gazed down at him with profound affection. Arthur stared at the screen, stunned. Then, a subtle wave of joy washed over his face. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was absolutely thrilled that Chloe was looking at him with love in her eyes. So, I intentionally threw a massive tantrum, screaming at him, “What exactly is going on between you and that homewrecking slut, Chloe Vance?!” Arthur’s brow furrowed instantly. “Mia, watch your mouth. Have some class, will you?” I yelled back furiously, “Even if I have no class, I am still your wife! I have every right to control what you do, and I have every right to curse out the homewrecker you’re messing around with!” I used the ugliest words I could think of. Just as I hoped, Arthur’s expression turned pitch black. He glared at me with absolute freezing hatred. “What? Am I not your wife? Do I not have that right?!” “Then let’s get a divorce,” Arthur said, his voice dripping with profound exhaustion and disgust. “Mia, we’re getting a divorce.” I forced myself to look hysterical and screamed, “I will not agree to that! Arthur Sterling, I will never divorce you!” Arthur gave me a look that practically said, I knew it. As if he had predicted exactly how pathetic and desperate I would be. Sick of my presence, he slammed the bedroom door and left. The second he was gone, the furious mask melted off my face. I calmly pulled out a chair and sat down at my desk. Finally. He initiated the divorce. Six years ago, the System pulled me into this dimension and assigned me the mission of capturing Arthur Sterling’s heart. For six years, I played the role of the devoted, deeply-in-love woman flawlessly. I sacrificed everything to marry him. At one point, I even actually fell for him. But Arthur still didn’t love me. I failed the mission. Now, the only way out was the fail-safe: if Arthur explicitly demanded a divorce three separate times, the mission would be forcibly terminated, and I could finally return to my own world. That was strike one. Just two more to go. When Arthur returned home later that day, I was in my study, organizing my illustration drafts. After marrying Arthur, I became a full-time housewife, but I also worked as a freelance illustrator. I had actually built a pretty solid following online. Right now, I was finalizing my very first original comic series. It had taken me over two years to conceptualize and draw. Originally, I planned to publish it in this world, but since I was leaving soon, I decided to take the intellectual property back to my original dimension with me. Hearing the front door open, I closed my sketchbook and walked out to greet him, pretending our massive fight never happened. “You’re back?” I asked softly. Arthur looked incredibly stiff and awkward, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. I walked toward him, knowing exactly what was coming, but feigning ignorance. “I made your favorite soup. Let me go heat it up for you.” The second I stepped out of the study, I saw exactly why Arthur looked so guilty. Chloe was standing in the foyer, holding a massive suitcase. “Hi, Mia,” Chloe said, flashing me a gentle, apologetic smile. “I’ve been getting harassed by some crazy stalker fans lately, so I can’t stay at my place. Would it be okay if I crashed here for a few days until things cool down?” I stared at her, my face completely blank. I didn’t say a word. Arthur, clearly feeling guilty, spoke up softly to defend her. “It’s true. Some fan leaked Chloe’s address. They’ve been banging on her door every night and following her.” Seeing my continued silence, Arthur started to lose his patience. His brows drew together in an irritated scowl. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Chloe. We’ve just been friends for years. She’s in trouble, and I can’t just leave her out on the street.” “Mia, there has to be a limit to your irrational jealousy. Stop testing my patience. We’ve been married for five years; can you please grow up and stop acting like a dramatic teenager?” “Fine,” I said, breaking my gaze away from Chloe and looking directly at Arthur. “She can stay.” Chapter 3 Why wouldn’t I let her stay? Having her living under the same roof was the fastest way to detonate the remaining tension between Arthur and me. It was the quickest way to get him to demand a divorce for the second time. The sooner I could leave this world, the better. Arthur looked at me in genuine shock. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—almost like he was still unsatisfied. “What? I said yes, and you’re still not happy?” Arthur frowned, pointing a warning finger at me. “Don’t try anything stupid. If I find out you’re secretly bullying Chloe while I’m not around, I won’t let it slide.” I actually wanted to laugh out loud. I was his legal wife, yet he was bending over backwards to protect an outsider from me. I really wanted to ask him: Arthur, after all these years together, have you honestly never felt a single shred of genuine affection for me? But I didn’t. Arthur ignored me and hurried down the stairs to help Chloe with her luggage. While he was setting up the guest room, I heard him cheerfully say to her, “Mia made this incredible herbal soup earlier. Once we’re done unpacking, I’ll bring you a bowl.” “Mia has a lot of flaws, but her cooking is top-tier. Your health hasn’t been great lately, so we’ll have her cook some nutritious meals for you while you’re here.” I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Arthur, do you really think that just because we’re married, I’m your personal maid? Do you honestly believe that no matter how much you degrade me, I’ll never leave you? I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I’m finally gone. I walked downstairs, went straight into the kitchen, drank one bowl of the soup myself, and poured the entire rest of the pot straight down the garbage disposal. I spent all day simmering that soup. I’d rather pour it down the drain than let this trashy duo have a single drop. I went back up to my study and resumed organizing my comic drafts. Not ten minutes later, Arthur violently shoved the study door open, glaring at me. “Where is the soup?” I kept my eyes on my tablet and answered coldly, “I dumped it.” “What?!” Arthur looked like a completely different person. His voice exploded with rage. “Mia, what the hell is your problem?! If you didn’t want Chloe to stay here, you should have just said no! What is the point of agreeing to her face and then playing these passive-aggressive, petty little games behind my back?!” I looked up at him, my voice freezing cold. “If I had said no, would you have gracefully accepted it without throwing a fit?” Arthur glared at me, struck speechless. I stared right back at him, holding my breath, waiting for him to drop the D-word for the second time. But to my immense disappointment, he didn’t. He just slammed the door and stormed out again. Late that night, after washing up, I got into bed. Downstairs in the living room, Arthur and Chloe were drinking wine and laughing. The atmosphere sounded incredibly cozy and romantic; their laughter echoed all the way up to the master bedroom. I don’t know how much time passed. I was deep in sleep when I suddenly felt heavy arms wrap around me from behind. It was Arthur. His breath was scorching hot and reeked of alcohol. He started pressing wet, sloppy kisses against the back of my neck. A wave of absolute revulsion washed over me. I violently shoved him off. “What are you doing?!” The shove sobered him up slightly. He scowled in annoyance. “You’re my wife. What do you think I’m doing?” Seeing me physically recoil from him, his face darkened into a menacing glare. “This is your duty as a wife. Mia, if you’re going to keep acting like a prude and refuse to let me touch you, then get the hell out of my house.” Ever since I discovered he was emotionally cheating with Chloe, I hadn’t let him touch me. It had been almost three months. “Your house?” I asked, my voice flat. Arthur looked at me with smug, absolute superiority, fully convinced I was about to yield. “When you married me, you had absolutely nothing. I paid for this house entirely by myself, so yes, it’s my house. Did you forget, Mia? You literally begged me to marry you.” “If you aren’t going to let me touch you, then get out!” Chapter 4 I was so utterly speechless that I just went quiet, and then a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Back then, he was my assigned target. To complete the mission, I really had begged him to marry me. I couldn’t deny it. I just never expected that the man I had actually developed real feelings for would weaponize my vulnerability to obliterate my dignity. “Fine. I’m leaving.” I opened the closet and haphazardly threw a few essentials into a duffel bag. Before walking out the door, I paused for a second. I was waiting for him to deliver the killing blow—to say something cruel, like, If you walk out that door, we’re getting a divorce. But Arthur completely misread my hesitation. He ruthlessly mocked me. “I thought you were leaving? Go on! Walk out!” His tone made it painfully obvious that he thought I was just throwing a theatrical tantrum for attention, and that I’d never actually leave him. I realized the fire wasn’t quite hot enough yet. I needed to push him over the edge. So, I pivoted, marched straight to the guest room where Chloe was sleeping, and started violently pounding on the door. I wanted to manufacture a catastrophic, explosive argument to force Arthur to say the word ‘divorce’. Arthur sprinted down the hall and grabbed my arm, yanking me back. “What the hell are you doing, Mia?! Have you lost your damn mind?!” I thrashed against his grip. “Let me go! Arthur, don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re planning! You’re obsessed with Chloe, aren’t you?! I’m going to ask her right now if she actually wants you!” I thought pushing this specific button would guarantee he demanded a divorce. But I never, in a million years, expected his reaction. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the hallway. I froze, completely stunned into silence. Arthur looked equally shocked. He stood there, staring at his trembling hand, his lips parting slightly. He looked like he wanted to apologize, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Finally, he just gritted out, “Get back in your room.” I felt a profound, bottomless disappointment in him. Staring at his bloodshot eyes, I felt tears threatening to spill. Arthur couldn’t maintain eye contact. He looked away and muttered, “Mia, if you pull a stunt like this again, I really will divorce you.” Finally. I finally heard the words I had been waiting for. Even though every fiber of my being was screaming YES! Let’s go sign the papers right now!, I had to play my part. I forced myself to look devastated, choking back tears of “anger and betrayal.” “I will never agree to that!” I turned and practically sprinted out of the villa. Finally. Just one more strike, and I could permanently evacuate this nightmare. I wandered the empty streets for hours before finally stopping. Staring at the desolate roads and the flickering amber streetlights, a heavy wave of existential dread washed over me. Six years ago, I was dropped into this world. My entire existence had revolved around one single objective: Arthur Sterling. I had spent so much time orbiting him that I had never bothered to build a life or a social circle of my own. Thank God I had never given up my career as an illustrator. Once I returned to my original world, I could use my new comic series to establish myself as a successful artist. The thought of my comic made me instantly regret storming out so fast. I had forgotten my manuscript drafts in the study. I’d have to find an excuse to go back and pack them up. I checked into a nearby hotel. Days passed, and Arthur didn’t reach out once. I didn’t want to waste any more time, so just as I was hyping myself up to go back to the villa and force the final confrontation, disaster struck. Chloe Vance uploaded my entire comic series to her massive art account. She had digitized my hand-drawn drafts, but the character designs, the plot, the storyboards… it was all a 1:1 stolen copy. I was so furious I nearly blacked out. I immediately called Arthur. I called five times. He ignored every single one, and eventually just turned his phone off. I forced myself to calm down. I logged onto my own art account, tagged Chloe, and publicly accused her of plagiarism. Chloe and I were both illustrators, but our careers were vastly different. I focused entirely on the art, while she operated more like an influencer. She had recently monetized her highly publicized divorce to farm massive amounts of sympathy and traffic, so her follower count was currently explosive. Chloe immediately released a statement denying the allegations, calling me a liar and demanding I produce hard evidence or issue a public apology. My original physical drafts were locked in the study at the villa. I obviously couldn’t produce them on the spot. Within minutes, her rabid fanbase swarmed my account, flooding my comments and DMs with so much toxic abuse that my phone literally crashed. Chapter 5 I hailed a cab back to the villa while simultaneously redialing Arthur’s number. This time, he finally picked up. His voice was laced with undeniable guilt. My instincts kicked in, and I immediately hit record on the call. “Did you give my manuscript to Chloe?” Arthur didn’t answer the question. Instead, he deflected, “Where are you?” “Answer the question, Arthur! You know damn well that comic is the culmination of years of my hard work!” Arthur’s voice turned impatient and defensive. “I said I’d compensate you! What do you want? I’ll buy you a house, okay?” I ground my teeth together, absolutely livid. “I am asking you why you gave my life’s work to Chloe Vance! That is my intellectual property!” “Didn’t I just say I’d pay you back?! When Chloe starts making revenue from the comic, she’ll give you a cut!” Arthur’s sheer audacity completely shattered my understanding of human depravity. “Just delete those accusations you posted online. If you do that… I promise I will never bring up divorce again.” “Hah.” I actually laughed out loud. Never bring up divorce again? The absolute only thing I wanted from him right now was for him to demand a divorce. “In your dreams,” I snarled into the phone. “Arthur, I am getting my work back.” The second I hung up, I uploaded the raw audio recording directly to my social media. It acted like a nuclear bomb. The internet exploded. A significant portion of the hate comments vanished, replaced by a massive wave of skeptics demanding Chloe provide hard proof of her ownership, since audio recordings could easily be faked or taken out of context. The cab pulled up to the gate. I threw cash at the driver and sprinted toward the villa. Arthur and Chloe were sitting in the living room. Chloe’s face was streaked with tears. She was leaning weakly against Arthur’s shoulder, sobbing a pathetic, tragic picture of victimhood. The second she saw me, her eyes widened in a desperate, pleading gaze. Arthur, on the other hand, glared at me like I had just murdered his family. I only cared about one thing. “Where is my manuscript?” Arthur didn’t answer. He closed the distance between us in three massive strides, violently grabbed my wrist, and snatched my phone—which was currently recording video—right out of my hand. He hurled it onto the marble floor, shattering the screen. He stared at me with pure, unadulterated venom. “Mia, you are a profound disappointment. You spent years claiming you loved me, claiming your entire life revolved around me. But the second I ask you to make one tiny sacrifice for me, you refuse, and then you leak our private phone call to the internet?!” His face was a mask of furious disappointment, placing the entirety of the blame squarely on my shoulders. “Are you trying to destroy my life?! You never used to be like this! You used to be obedient. You bent over backwards to make me happy. That was the version of you I actually tolerated.” “Now? Looking at you right now makes me sick. I have absolutely zero interest in you.” “We are getting a divorce, Mia.” Arthur stared intensely into my eyes, his expression radiating absolute certainty and expectation. He was entirely convinced that I would instantly crumble. He thought I would panic, reject the divorce, and immediately agree to all his demands just to stay by his side. But what he didn’t know was… this was the third strike. He had formally demanded a divorce three times. I no longer had to reject him. Because the System had just pinged in my brain: the forced termination sequence had been initiated. I was finally leaving.

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I am the sole heir to the Sterling family empire, groomed from birth to inherit the throne. Until one day, a beautiful woman showed up with twins in tow, marching right up to my mother and demanding she return everything that belonged to her. She claimed that ten years ago, she had a one-night stand with my father, and that I was nothing but a bargaining chip my mother used to marry Arthur Sterling. Hearing this, my mother didn’t even flinch. She just dialed my father’s number and gestured for me to speak. My voice was bratty, laced with annoyance. “Dad, there’s some crazy lady here blocking our way, saying she’s the only one who deserves you and that her two kids are yours.” “Do you think she’s got some loose screws in her head?” 1 My parents’ marriage was a strategic business alliance. From the day I was born, they raised me as the undisputed heir. For my first birthday, my father transferred 3% of the corporation’s shares into my name as a present. My mother gifted me an actual, literal castle. They never bothered faking a loving marriage in front of me. They each had their own affairs. As a result, every year for my birthday, I would receive over a dozen presents from various “aunts” and “uncles.” The doll from Uncle Hayes? Didn’t like it. Threw it away. The diamond necklace from that movie star, “Aunt” Valerie? Liked it. My mom told me to keep it. And then there were all the gifts from other random adults in their circles. At my seventh birthday party, one of my father’s business partners presented me with a custom, high-end jewelry set. I hesitated, looking up at my father, unsure if I should accept it. He rubbed my head, crouched down, and looked me dead in the eye. “Chloe, if you like it, take it. You are the heir to the Sterling family. Anything you want in this world can be yours.” What did I want? I wanted sparkling jewels and gorgeous dresses. And I wanted money. Lots and lots of money. I was young, but I was already the little princess of the Sterling family, known by everyone in high society. My grandmother once urged my father to have a son to carry on the family name, but he shut it down immediately. He told her he wouldn’t let anyone or anything threaten my position as his heir. 2 So, when one of his mistresses showed up at our door with a secret son, I wasn’t even surprised. I just stood behind the half-open door, watching them, feeling mildly annoyed. My father tossed a credit card onto the floor without a single flicker of emotion. His voice was ice. “Take your kid and get the hell out of here. If I ever see your face again…” “You know what will happen.” The DNA test results fluttered to the floor like snow. The woman collapsed, sobbing hysterically. “Arthur, how could you do this to me…” The bodyguards moved in to drag them out, but the little boy suddenly broke free and charged straight at me. He cursed at me furiously, “It’s all your fault! It’s all your fault! Why do you get to live with Mommy and Daddy?!” I could have easily dodged him, but for some inexplicable reason, I just stood there, frozen. Ugh, what a death wish. He shoved me hard onto the floor and reached out to strangle me. I looked up in shock, feeling the sting of my scraped palms. “Ow…” The next second, he was kicked viciously to the floor. My mother, hearing the commotion, rushed down the stairs to help me up. She didn’t forget to spin around and deliver a brutal slap across the boy’s face. “What kind of filthy trash thinks they can touch my daughter?!” My mother glared at my father, her voice raising. “Arthur, I don’t care about your private life. But now your mistresses and bastards are showing up at my door, putting their hands on my daughter.” “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” Arthur’s face darkened. He rubbed his temples in frustration and shot a look at the two bodyguards. “Send her abroad. Make sure she never comes back.” Ignoring the woman’s desperate pleas, he looked coldly at the boy on the floor. “And find a way to dump this little brat in an orphanage.” My mother let out a cold scoff, then finally turned her attention back to me. She carried me to the sofa and grabbed the first-aid kit to clean my scraped hands. No one ever explained anything to me. The incident was swept under the rug as if it never happened. My father bought a mountain of gifts to coax a smile out of me and personally took me to a high-profile auction to publicly reaffirm my status. But that day, I saw the ugly, rotten underbelly of this family clearly. Did it matter, though? I was a perfectly qualified heir, after all. 3 After three years at my elite prep school, a pair of fraternal twins suddenly transferred into my class. The sister stood meekly behind her brother, her voice squeaky. “Hi everyone, I’m Mia Vance. It’s nice to meet you!” The little boy was clutching a sleek, high-end mini laptop. He kept a straight face, his features bearing a striking resemblance to my father’s. He spoke coldly: “Leo Vance.” “Let’s give a warm welcome to our new classmates!” The teacher tried to hype them up, but the class only offered a scattering of unenthusiastic claps. Several appraising looks landed on them. I rested my chin in my hand, watching them with mild amusement. When they looked my way, I gave a lazy, slow clap. Are these my dad’s secret kids? They look pretty annoying. After class, the resident rich-kid bully and his two cronies cornered Leo. “Hey! I haven’t seen you around before. Who are your parents?” He shoved Leo aggressively. Leo shot him a cold glare, stepping in front of Mia to protect her. “Move.” “Don’t look down on me!” Mia grabbed Leo’s hand, puffing her cheeks indignantly. “It’s none of your business! My mom is super important…” “Mia, let’s go.” Leo gave her a gentle look and pulled her away. Once they were gone, I waved my hand dismissively, my eyes drifting to the laptop sitting in Leo’s desk. Interesting. 4 After school, I ordered my butler to look into the twins’ background. Their mother’s name was Sarah Vance. Ten years ago, she went abroad for unknown reasons, and returned with two kids. Interestingly enough, she was my mother’s half-sister. My aunt. This didn’t seem like a coincidence. I narrowed my eyes, a theory already forming in my head. “Miss Chloe, should I dig deeper?” The butler stood respectfully by my side. I took a huge gulp of milk, hopped off the sofa, and padded barefoot toward the door. Halfway there, I stopped, turning back thoughtfully. “No need… Oh, actually, what has Sarah been doing since she got back? How did she even get those kids enrolled in my school?” “It’s connected to the Harrington family. The second young master, Sebastian Harrington, pulled some strings to get them admitted.” “Also, records show Sarah Vance just submitted a resume to Sterling Enterprises. She has an in-person interview scheduled for tomorrow.” I had heard my dad mention Sebastian Harrington. He stayed out of his family’s corporate drama and became a doctor instead. He had also been abroad for the past few years. But doing the math, Mia and Leo couldn’t possibly be his kids. And the fact that Sarah applied to Sterling Enterprises the second she returned? That was completely intentional. Having confirmed my suspicions, I sighed, grabbed my phone, and texted my parents to ask when they’d be home. After a moment of thought, a bright, innocent smile spread across my face. “Since she’s interviewing at my future company, I don’t think it’s out of line if I drop by tomorrow to take a look, right?” The butler bowed his head. “Whatever you wish, Miss Chloe.” 5 It was very late by the time my mother got home. My father claimed he had an important meeting and wouldn’t be back that night. Wearing cute cat pajamas, I clung to my mom’s arm and whined. “Please let me go to the office tomorrow! I miss Dad…” “Well… maybe I don’t miss him that much, but I just really want to see the office!” “You little rascal,” my mom chuckled, affectionately tapping my forehead. She agreed immediately. “Fine, you can go in the morning. I’ll have the driver take you.” “Thanks, Mommy!” I kissed her cheek, my voice sweet as sugar. “But don’t run around causing trouble for everyone, okay? I’ll pick you up around noon.” “Go back to sleep.” She tucked me in and stood up to leave. I buried my face in the soft duvet, closing my eyes in satisfaction. I couldn’t wait for the show tomorrow.

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