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The first text I got on my birthday was from my boyfriend Julian—bailing on me last minute. Whatever. I still have a backup plan: a fancy birthday party to go to. Too bad it isn’t mine. I'm just working there as staff. I know it sounds pretty pathetic. But the truth is, I need this money to refill what I tore out of my student loans… for Julian. When his emergency came up, I had to give what was left. And now I am working nights to fill that hole back up. With summer already half gone, I need to make every cent back before semester starts. “For god’s sake Lily, that boy is just a year younger than you.” My best friend Erica clearly doesn’t get our relationship. "You have to go easy on Julian. He is trying to pay me back too. And you know that ever since he stepped up and saved me that time… I’ve always felt like I owed him." I reply softly but firmly. Erica rolls her eyes. “Be glad he’s eye candy, cause that’s the only reason I let you two date.” I chuckle while putting away the last plate. “Maybe I’ll even have time to grab a birthday cake later.” No sooner have the words left my mouth than the manager stands over us with that smug look. "Do you think you're grocery shopping?" she snaps. "I hired you to keep this party classy. Take those trays to the dishwasher." Erica says a quiet “Sorry” to the manager, then grabs half the tray and walks with me toward the kitchen. "I think I know why the manager's so tense tonight," Erica whispers with a sly grin. "Rumor is that super-sexy billionaire Mr. Whitmore is staying at the hotel tonight." I blink slowly as I recognize the name. Not mainly because of his looks, but because of Julian. The last time I saw Whitmore on some gossip show, Julian stomped over and slammed the TV off. He looked pissed. Told me that the guy’s a total asshole. Julian explained they just ran into each other at some event once. I didn’t push, because that look on his face at that time was the same uneasy look he gets when his family comes up. Tight with something awkward. My gut says the guy’s not all bad, though. But I see it—those photos of Whitmore do kinda look like Julian. Same dark hair, blue eyes. Maybe men are just wired to hate strangers who look like them. “Really?” I ask, trying not to sound interested. Erica nods with a coy smile. “Rumor has it, the man not only looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves but also gifted with their knowledge of all the ways to make a woman moan.” “Erica!” I hiss, hoping no one heard the inappropriate comment. “What?” She asks innocently. “This could be great. You’re gorgeous, funny, and intelligent. You deserve to have mind-blowing sex with a man who will spoil you rotten.” I give her a disapproving look. “I'm still with Julian. What kind of person would I be if I wasn't loyal to our relationship?” But the next second I see the birthday girl, Vanessa, draped over some polished-looking guy. They don’t stay long in my view, but the glimpse I get of his profile is a perfect match to Julian’s. My heart stops. So he bailed on me… just to be at someone else’s birthday? I want to believe Julian would never betray me, but my gut is screaming at me to confirm it for myself. Then, I pull out my phone to call him. Straight to voicemail. Well, that does nothing to ease my suspicions. My manager is nowhere in sight. There’s nothing left to do. I have to follow the mysterious Julian doppelgänger like some sort of stalker until I know whether that’s him. If I don’t, my brain will fixate on it forever. I grab a tray and add a bottle of Cabernet and two glasses. Hopefully, security will just think I’m delivering room service and won’t stop me. “Cover for me?” I ask Erica. She just nods, asking no questions as I head out the door. I head in the direction I think the woman and my boyfriend lookalike went. I pass by a security guard, and I drop my eyes, picking up my pace like I’m on an urgent errand. He says nothing as I pass by him toward the first-floor rooms. I breathe a sigh of relief and start wandering through the hall, listening for sounds of the woman or Julian. It doesn’t take long before I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’m lost. This hotel is huge, and there is no sign of them anywhere. Although, if they’re in a room, I’m not likely to find them. My stomach clenches. There’s only one reason they would be in a room. I’m about to give up and see if I can find my way back to the party when I turn and collide into a solid form. The bottle on my tray tips, and red wine splashes all over the pristine white shirt of the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. A gorgeous man I immediately recognize. Adrian Whitmore. The exact billionaire we were just talking about. Holy hell, the man is way hotter than any grainy tabloid photo I’ve ever seen. My gaze trails from his broad shoulders up to those deep blue eyes—hypnotic, almost, like they’re pulling me in. I can’t look away. I swear I see a flicker of amusement cross his cold expression, but it’s gone so fast. I’m still staring like an idiot when Adrian cuts through my daze with a low cough. “I’m so sorry,” is all I can utter as I frantically grab napkins from my apron and start pressing them to the red stain on his shirt. It probably costs a fortune. How could I pay for it? His hand gently touches my wrist, stopping me. It’s only then that I realize I have been stuttering my apology repeatedly. “It’s alright. It’s just a shirt. Don’t worry about it.” His voice is like a cello, deep and rich. There’s a genuine smile on his face as he takes the napkins from me. Any other guest in this hotel would have me fired. So, of course, I destroy the clothes of the only decent one we have. Guilt stabs at me. “Please, let me get you another shirt.” I offer. “I’m sure the hotel valet has some.” For once, I was grateful to work in such a luxury hotel. They usually had some clothing on hand. Adrian doesn’t expect me to say that. I feel his hypnotic eyes linger on me, his gaze holds something dangerous. Out of nowhere, I get thirsty. “So I suppose I need to give you my room number. For the delivery.” There’s a knowing curl to his smile. I still can’t think straight around this intense man. All I do is swallow and nod. After Adrian's answer, I scurry down the hall and quickly take a shirt back. But I don’t expect Adrian to have already showered and changed into a robe by the time I return. I try to hand him the clothes and leave, until I realize I never confirmed his size. “Maybe you should try them on first,” I say nervously. Adrian raises a brow, a slight curve at the corner of his mouth. “Then maybe you should come in and help me check.” I nod and follow him inside, only for him to drop the robe, standing there in just a towel. He spreads his arms, waiting for me to dress him. A flush rushes to my cheeks, and I swear I forget how to breathe. Adrian is the picture of male beauty. With only a towel wrapped around his waist, his defined chest, sculpted arms, and all eight abs are on full display. I take the shirt, and he turns for me to pull it over his arms and across his broad, muscled back. He adjusts the shoulders and turns back to face me. His eyes look at me and then down at the unfastened buttons. My cheeks flush and my heart pounds wildly while my hands reach for the open edges of the shirt. With my shaking hands and fumbling fingers, I start to wonder if I’ve forgotten how buttons work. My breath shakes, and I struggle to draw in another as my heart pounds faster. And why did he have to smell so good? Just as I finally fasten the second-to-last button, my fingers accidentally brush against Adrian’s burning abs. Before I can even apologize, he grabs my wrist and yanks me hard against his chest. His blue eyes glow with a hint of red. “So… is this what you wanted?” Chapter 2- Fiancé in Disguise My cheeks heat and words left me as I fought to respond. Did I want this? Absolutely. He was barely touching me, and yet I felt a pull I had never experienced before to raise my chin just a fraction so I could taste his lips. My head was silent of all thoughts save one, how badly I wanted to feel his skin on mine. My hand raised and pressed against his chest, slowly smoothing up and between his defined pecks. The heat from his body does nothing to calm my nerves and my heart pounds wildly. I close my eyes as he lowers his head, and I feel the tip of nose caress my cheek and press against the side of my neck. A shiver travels up my spine and I ache to press myself tighter against him. Before I know it, I’m already doing it. My mind completely consumed by this insanely sexy man in front of me. I wrap my arms around Adrian’s neck, rise on my toes, and try to taste those delicious lips. Adrian lets out a low chuckle, his broad hand tipping up my chin. “Take it easy.” He says, his voice a rough whisper. “What’s your name?” Those piercing blue eyes lock on mine. I could drown in those deep blue eyes. The heated promise in them makes me want to melt into his arms and let him do whatever he wants with me. Yet there’s a tenderness in them that makes me feel warm and protected. I don’t know Adrian, yet I know I’m safe here. Blue eyes, safe. Julian. Memories of Julian hit me like lightning—sudden, sharp, and sobering. My face is still burning, but now it’s with shame. I pull away from Adrian’s embrace, hard, fighting the intense pull, that stupid sense of belonging. “Mr. Whitmore… I’m sorry. There’s been a misunderstanding. I have to go.” Adrian’s relaxed expression freezes over. That cold, detached look returns. “A misunderstanding? I don’t think so. But I don’t force what isn’t wanted.” His voice turns low, almost dangerous. “Do what you have to do. Just don’t regret it later.” I turn to leave the room, hoping he doesn’t notice that my cheeks are still flushed and I’m trying to keep my hands from trembling. My body wants to stay. To take Adrian up on his offer, relieve him of his towel, and let him have his way with me. But my mind is on Julian and shame rears its ugly head at the thought that I almost betrayed him. I’m not a cheater and the idea of hurting him makes me sick. By the time I get back to the party room, it’s clear I’ve been gone far too long. The guests have been indulging in too much wine, and Erica alone hasn’t been able to keep up. Another wave of guilt hits me like a truck. I shouldn’t have left her. As I’m reaching for a tray to dive back in, a pair of keys come flying at me. I fumble to keep hold of them and look up to see Vanessa, flipping her long hair back and looking at me from down her nose. “You. Drive me home.” My eyes sweep around her instinctively, but I don’t see that Julian doppelgänger anywhere. I relax a little. But Vanessa has definitely been drinking. I’m not dealing with this spoiled girl’s drama. “I’m not a chauffeur.” I toss the keys back at her. Drunk or not, she catches them out of the air. “Don’t you know who I am?” She scoffs at me. “Don’t you dare talk back to me. I knew it the moment I saw you. You’re just another worthless, lazy server. Just hear to collect the paycheck. No ambition.” I don’t give her the satisfaction of a response, which just seemed to irritate her more. “Lily!” My manager calls. I look over to see her beckoning me over, Vanessa smiling smugly as she saunters away. I walk over and she hands me a bucket and a brush. “One of the guests got sick all over the carpet under the head table. Go clean it up.” I want to argue, but I know if I do, I’ll be considered difficult and won’t get scheduled for parties anymore. And I need the money. I take the bucket with one hand, and holding my tray with the other, go to set it down on a stand when another drunk party guest runs into me. A piece of leftover cake goes flying off my tray, smearing chocolate down my white shirt. Great. I sigh heavily and try to ignore that the man didn’t even apologize before going to the head table and locating the pile of vomit. Getting to my hands and knees, I start to scrub at the carpet. I’m not far into my task when I hear Vanessa’s voice, turned sickly sweet, announce over the crowd, “Everyone, my fiancé is here!” I can't help but think of that Julian look-alike earlier, and my eyes follow the crowd's gaze. My head snaps up so fast, my neck cracks. No luck. It is Julian. My Julian. Standing next to the pretty birthday girl, his arm around her waist, is the familiar man I’ve been sharing my home with for months. Vanessa is smiling brightly up at him and I feel my heart twist painfully in my chest. He’s not just cheating. He has a fiancé. My first instinct is to go over there and throw a bottle of wine at his head, but I’m the server. The sweating, hair falling out of its braid, chocolate cake smeared down her shirt server. If I go over there and confront him, he could just deny it. Then I’ll just look like a lunatic in front of all of these people. “Star struck?” My manager asks with a grin. “They make a beautiful couple. You know who that is, right? The only son of that billionaire, Adrian Whitmore.” Adrian Whitmore? The gorgeous man I almost kissed twenty minutes ago? The gorgeous man I turned down because I had a boyfriend, only to find out that said boyfriend, is cheating on me. This is the worst night of my life. Tears sting my eyes, threatening to fall, but I force them back and clear my throat. “I thought I just heard that Julian’s last name is Huntington.” My manager shakes her head. “Adrian’s late wife was from a noble family, so Julian goes by her maiden name.” Nobility and the son of a billionaire, and yet, he had to take my tuition money to pay his bail, leaving me to work sixty hours a week, just to get by? So, not only is he cheating on me, but he’s also been lying to me about everything from day one. Julian still hasn’t seen me, and I want to try one more time. Maybe I’ll get an explanation. So, I take out my phone and dial his number. I watch as Julian reaches into his pocket to take out his ringing phone and glance down at my name. Then my heart dies in my chest as he declines the call and it goes straight to voicemail. “Who was that?” Vanessa asks, pouting her lips at his phone. “Nobody.” Julian answers and Vanessa smiles back up at him. No. I will not take this. Rage fuels me and I storm out of the room and back into the hotel. In that second, a wicked idea for payback flashes through my mind. Time to prove I’m not just nobody. That man looked done with me half an hour ago, but I’ve got nothing left to lose. I don’t think about it, refusing to let my nerves make me change my mind as I knock on Adrian’s door. It opens, revealing the beautiful man who doesn’t look surprised—just amused, like he saw this coming. “Too bad. I don’t do second invitations.” But I’m not taking no for an answer today. I step closer, hook my finger in his collar. “Then I guess you’re making an exception for me.” I stand on my toes and kiss him, right on those lips I’ve been staring at since earlier. He tastes just as dangerous as he looks. Chapter 3- Revenge Adrian pulls me to him and steps back with me into the room. The door clicks shut behind us. Maybe it was the finality of that sound, but an unwelcome sense of reality makes me re-examine this choice I’ve made. This is so wrong. I’m using Julian’s father as a tool for revenge. Julian’s billionaire father with the reputation for being completely unattainable. This would be a one-night stand for him. It would mean nothing. And I’ve never been a casual sex kind of girl. This was a terrible idea. What was I thinking? Just as I’m about to pull away completely, Adrian leans down and wraps an arm around my waist, lifting me up and tightly against him. I give an unattractive yelp and wrap my legs around his hips to keep from falling. He just chuckles and reclaims my mouth in a deep demanding kiss. His lips move expertly against mine and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. The taste of him is intoxicating and I welcome the sensation of his attentions like a woman starved. The heat of his body consumes me, and I can feel the evidence of his desire pressing against my thigh. It almost shuts up any doubts I have. Almost. My common sense finally pushes through and I break my mouth away from Adrian’s. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.” I shouldn’t have come here. I’m not this person. Adrian’s expression freezes over. He isn’t shouting like some ordinary guy would, but the icy rage simmering in his eyes chills me straight through. He lets me down to the floor. All the heat that was there is gone. "A second rejection, sweetling?" His voice drops cold and low. "You’ve got me all wrong if you think I’m patient enough to let you push me around." I shake my head, embarrassed and guilty. I understand why he’s mad. I didn’t mean to, but it looks like I’m leading him on. “No, of course not. I’m sorry.” I breathe deeply, trying to calm my nerves before I decide the truth is the best explanation. Omitting a few details, of course. “I just found out my boyfriend is cheating on me. I was just so angry and I wasn’t thinking. It was impulsive, but I shouldn’t use you like that. I’m so sorry.” His jaw relaxes. After a second, a cocky grin breaks out on his face. He reaches his hand up to run the back of his fingers along my jaw and down before wrapping around the back of my neck. “Is that all? Well, if it’s revenge you want.” He leans in again, his breath hot and voice low. “Why stop now? Why not take it all the way?” The heat of his body and the slow deep kiss that follows, silences any further argument. Before I know it, he has me backed up until my knees hit the bed and he’s unbuttoning my shirt. Any rational thought I might have had left is gone when his hands find my skin and I’m lowering myself to the bed. He crawls over me, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of my neck. His skin against mine is intoxicating and I press into his touch, aching for more. My body is on fire and all I can focus on is the sensation of his hand as it travels down my body to the waist of my pants. I wait in dizzying anticipation for what comes next. A rapid series of dings snaps me out of it. Adrian breaks away and groans impatiently. He places a finger against my lips. “One moment. Wait right here.” Then he reaches for a phone on the nightstand. He frowns at whatever he sees, and my blood runs cold as he answers the call with one word. “Julian?” Adrian There is only one thing in the world that could possibly distract me from the stunning woman laying beneath me. One thing that could shift my immediate priorities. My one weakness. For the first time in years, my son is calling me. I don’t remember the last time he reached out. Maybe he never had. Not since before his mother died and he had blamed me for her death. Something had broken in him when he learned his mother was gone. Julian had cursed my name and left the werewolf society, rejecting everything we offered, and enrolled in a human university. I’ve tried everything to connect with my son again, but he refused to return. I’m a werewolf Alpha, with extensive resources at my disposal. Yet all of the wealth and power in the world couldn’t fix the rift that had torn between us. It’s no contest. The woman can wait. I climb off the bed and walk to the window, trying to keep my voice low. But there’s no privacy in a hotel room and I’m not about to ask her to leave in case she changes her mind again in the hallway. “What’s wrong?” I ask, sure that only the worst of emergencies would make him speak to me. “How dare you!” Julian yells angrily. “I told you, I want no part of your world. I don’t know what agenda you have, but I’m not marrying this woman!” “What are you talking about?” I ask confused. “You know what I’m talking about! You orchestrating my future like you own it. I’m not a pawn in whatever you’re planning and I’m not about to let you arrange my marriage over it.” Julian seethes. I’ve done no such thing, but history has shown that when my son is like this, any denial won’t be believed. I sigh heavily. Of course, the only reason Julian is calling is to fight with me. I have no interest in arguing with him. Even if he is accusing me of something I’ve had no part of. "If you're talking about that Vanessa girl's birthday invitation—yes, I had her send it." Vanessa, also a werewolf girl, was someone Julian used to enjoy hanging out with, loud and flashy as she is. I did instruct her family to extend the invitation to Julian, but he chose to attend on his own. Yet Julian cuts me off, furious: "I knew it was you! You’re not controlling my feelings!" My expression cools. "What you do out there has never been my concern." As an Alpha, it’s my right to know where my son is and what he’s doing. I’m even aware he’s been seeing some human girl out there. But until he comes to me himself, I won’t interrupt his… self-righteous little independence. But I do know Julian once shows up at Vanessa’s birthday party, that annoying girl is definitely gonna do everything she can to flirt with him. And knowing my son, he can’t say no when a girl throws herself at him. God knows where he got that from. I think about my son’s girlfriend. I know nothing about her. Only that she’s human and I get a little angry on her behalf. If he’s flirting back with Vanessa, he must not care about this girl at all. He’s just playing with her. If that’s the case and he’s just using her to avoid some political marriage he thinks I’m planning. “So, to avoid any plans I might have made, you go and get yourself an ordinary and nobody girlfriend?” I ask, pushing as much authority as I can into the tone. “It’s time you grew up. Break up with the girl and get your priorities in order. You belong with the family and in the community you were born to.” My son is silent for a moment. Then he snaps back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Stay out of my life and mind your own business.” The line goes dead, and I know he’s hung up on me. I’m still pissed at how Julian’s forgotten even basic manners, when the girl who was just clinging to me and making me forget everything speaks softly behind my back. “Oh really, nobody?” Chapter 4- Tied and Tempted I had been feeling guilty about using Adrian for vengeance sex, but as I listened to him on the phone with Julian, that nagging voice in my head silenced herself and stepped aside for the one of an angry rant. An ordinary girlfriend? He must mean poor. Like father, like son. Adrian and his dear boy both think I’m nobody. This arrogant, conceited, narcissistic snob. I can’t believe I found him attractive a moment ago. Well, I still do. The fact that he’s taken it upon himself to ruin my relationship doesn’t take away the fact that he’s built like a dream. But he’s the reason Julian and I are over. So, I’m seeing that handsome face and smoldering body through a lens of red as my anger gets the better of me. Adrian still looks just as handsome, a hint of confusion on his face, clearly not following my meaning. But he quickly slips back into that smooth calm, a dangerous curve tilting his lips. “Just an urgent call. I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” The condescending notion that he finds my anger amusing aside, that’s what he thinks I’m angry about? That he took a call? Of course he does, I realize. He doesn’t know who I am. Well, he’s about to find out. Just like he’s about to find out how a “nobody” ruin his night. I force my glare into a pout. “It must have been important for you to ignore the half-undressed woman in your bed. Something like that probably killed the mood.” "Sweetling," Adrian's lips are still curved, but his eyes darken. "I think there should be some boundaries between us. Just as I don’t ask about that idiot boyfriend of yours, you shouldn’t be so curious about my business either." "Of course." My ass. I rise off the bed and step towards him, taking my shirt off and unbuttoning my slacks. His eyes get a mischievous gleam as I loop an arm around his neck and start unbuttoning his shirt with my other hand. He knows I’m planning something. Little does he know, he’s not going to like where this goes. "Handsome," I put on my most convincing tone which isn’t hard, really. Deep down, if it weren’t for this awkward mess, I might’ve done this anyway. "Why don’t we make tonight more exciting? I wanna play a little game with you." I strip off his shirt and take his tie, turning to push him back toward the bed. His body heats and from the hungry way he’s looking at me, I half expect to lose control of the situation. He wants me, but he’s holding himself back and letting me set the pace. “Wanna have some fun with me?” I ask, keeping my voice playful. “I’d love to.” He answers, mirroring my tone. I reach up and wrap the tie in my hand around his eyes. He gives a small laugh as he lays back onto the bed, taking me down with him until I’m straddling his hips. His hands grip my waist, and a groan escapes his lips as I run my hands over his chest and shoulders. Then, just as he settles back, I reach for another tie sitting on the nightstand. He gives another small laugh as I take his wrists and tie them together before fastening them to the bedpost. One of the orphanage caretakers loved wilderness camping. If there was one thing he taught me, it was how to tie a knot. Adrian wasn’t going anywhere. I climb off of him and watch with satisfaction as his brow furrows with confusion. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice still laced with a little amusement. I don’t answer him and reach for my shirt instead, pulling it on and fastening the buttons. I hear him test the restraints holding him to the bed. I’m not worried. Hopefully that tie isn’t expensive because housekeeping will probably have to cut it to get him loose. Seeing his clothes on the floor, I pick those up too. He pulls harder on the bedpost. “Alright, that’s enough messing around.” He says that obnoxious amusement finally gone. I keep silent and start walking toward the door. “You’re not going to like the consequences of the game you’re playing.” There’s something dangerous about his voice. The smart thing would be to turn around and release him. Except I’m not feeling smart. I’m feeling vengeful and little petty. I walk back toward the bed and lean down until my lips are almost to his ear. “Are you afraid?” I ask and I swear his jaw tightens. Before I can think twice about it, I lean down and take the skin of his neck between my teeth in a light bite before heading to the door. "Don’t worry, I’m just handling something urgent. I’ll be right back." Yeah, sure. I’m reaching for the handle when that familiar large hands are spinning me around pulling me into a hard muscled chest. How did he escape? I don’t have long to question it. I look back at him and feel myself tremble under his tight hold and the heat in his eyes. “Have you had enough fun, yet?” He asks, his voice low and rough, “Because my patience has just run out.” Then his mouth collides with mine in a hard bruising kiss. My legs threaten to give out and I’m suddenly grateful for his tight grip holding me up. The heat from his body is all consuming and I press myself into it. My lips part for his demanding tongue and he deepens the kiss like he can’t get enough. Of its own accord, my body gives in to his demands. All my plans and every objection I previously had are forgotten as he presses me against the door and lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. Hands fly over buttons, and clothing falls to the floor in a pile. He’s clearly had enough of my teasing him. He presses me against the door, holding me tight against him where I can feel just how badly he wants this through his unfastened pants. He lowers me just long enough to strip my slacks off my legs before he’s hoisting me back up again against the door. I completely give in. I already know I don’t have the self-control to refuse him again. I’m losing myself in the heat of his skin, the grip of his hands, and the taste of his mouth. He’s intoxicating and I have no desire to stop. Suddenly he is pulling me off the door and carrying me back across the room to the bed. He lowers us both down and I wait in anticipation will he reaches between us to shove his pants away. A knock at the door echoes into the room and I almost groan with frustration. “Ignore it.” Adrian says, bringing my face back to his with a persistent kiss. Another knock sounds, louder this time, and he breaks away, cursing under breath. “Who is it?” He shouts. There’s a pause, like the person on the other side is reconsidering their decision. Then a voice calls back. “It’s Julian. I need to talk to you.” My face flushes hot and my heart pounds in panic. But when I notice Adrian freeze, like he’s torn between choices, my fear of being caught fades. Tonight, I’m winning at least once. I lean close to his face, breathing softly, and press my thigh suggestively against his leg. Just as I hoped, his eyes drop back to me. I smile and wrap my arms around his neck. “Looks like you’ve got another choice to make, Daddy.” Chapter 5- Make a Wish Adrian I don’t recall ever wanting a woman more than I do the one in my arms right now. For whatever reason, she has aroused my interest more than anyone I’ve met in a long time. Maybe ever. Yet, my son is at the door, asking for me. I haven’t seen him in years. He has rarely sought me out and never for anything other to rage at me for some reason or another. From the panic in his voice, he wants my help. As much as it pains me, I have to open the door. I look down at the woman in my bed, her lips swollen and cheeks flushed. I know we will probably not be continuing this after my son leaves. Julian has already interrupted us once before and if I choose my son again, she will probably decide to go. But if I can do something to mend the rift between me and my son tonight, that’s a risk I’m willing to take. “One moment!” I call back to Julian through the door. Untangling myself from the woman’s arms, I grab clothes off the floor and hand hers back to her. “I’m sorry to ask this, but would you mind stepping into the bathroom for a moment?” I’m relieved when she doesn’t argue, just silently takes her clothes and complies with my request. Once the door is shut and my own clothes are somewhat straightened, I go to the door and open it. Juian looks scared. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes have a look of panic. He’s breathing hard. “I’m looking for my girlfriend. I can’t find her anywhere.” He says, “I messed up and upset her. I saw her coming this way. Now I can’t find her and I’m getting nervous.” “Calm down.” I assure him. “We’ll find her.” “I know you think she’s just some girl, but I really care about her, Adrian. I need to find her.” My son never calls me dad. For years, it’s been “Adrian”. I sigh, “I’ll help you. What does she look like?” “Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and kind of petite. She works here, so she’s wearing a white button-down shirt with a name tag, black dress slacks, and an apron. Her name is Lily.” Julian says with his voice coming out rushed. “I really need to find her. She saw something and I know she’s hurting. I need to explain.” I grow a little still. The woman he’s describing matches the one in my bathroom perfectly. What was it she had said? “I just found out my boyfriend is cheating on me?” Julian’s phone rings, and we both look down to see him decline the call. The lockscreen shows a picture of Julian with his arms around a very familiar brunette, a smile lighting up her pretty face. My suspicions are confirmed. I know exactly where Julian’s girlfriend is. She’s in my bathroom, likely putting the clothes back on I relieved her of a few minutes ago. I bite back a string of curses as self-loathing climbs its way up to clamp around my heart. I almost slept with my son’s girlfriend. I can’t tell him the truth. It would break him. From the look on his face and the panic in his eyes, I was completely wrong in thinking this was just some fling for him. He cares about her. If he finds out she’s here and I almost slept with her, I will lose him forever. Nothing will ever fix our relationship then. I clear my throat and get control of my emotions. “I’m sure she’s around. I’ll help you look, but maybe she just needs a minute. You’ll find her. If she’s not here, you’ll see her at home.” Julian looks a little calmer at my reassurance. “Why don’t you go check the restaurant again? Maybe she went back to finish her shift. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” My son nods and turns to leave. I take a deep breath as the door closes behind him, struggling to calm my nerves. Lily As soon as I hear the door close, I let out a long breath and go to sink. Splashing cold water on my face helps ease the flush and calms my rapidly beating heart. Julian is looking for me. I heard him describing me and now I have to go out there where Adrian will probably realize who I am. As angry as I still am at both Adrian and Julian, if Adrian finds out that I came here looking for revenge against his son, his anger will probably make mine look like a mild annoyance. If Julian finds out, there’s no telling what he will do. I thought I knew my boyfriend, but he’s been lying to me from the beginning. I have no idea what resources he has at his disposal that he could hurt me with if he really wanted to. I can’t afford to provoke these people. With their money and power, they could ruin my life, and I would be defenseless against them. I need to leave now and never see Adrian again. I open the door to the bathroom and make my way to the exit. My mind searches for an excuse but nothing comes to mind. Adrian stays quiet and stares at me with a look I can’t decipher. A chill races down my spine and I walk quickly to the hall, closing the door behind me. When I get back to the party room, it is clear that I’ve been missed. My manager, only huffing when I explain that I was helping to run a room service, sends me to the kitchen to help clean up. Erica just shrugs at me apologetically when she is told that she has done enough tonight and can head home. It’s fair. I’ve shouldered my friend with the majority of the work tonight and it’s only right that I finish up. I pull my phone from my pocket. It’s dead, but I don’t care. I don’t know what explanation Julian thinks he has for a secret fiancé, but I’m not buying it. It’s almost midnight by the time I finish cleaning up the party room and kitchen. I walk outside, my body aching and skin dry from the hot water and sanitizer. A piece of leftover cake was left on the counter by the chef who had learned it was my birthday. I clock out and take my cake to sit on the far end of the steps to the hotel. I’m not ready to go home yet. Julian might be there and I’m not ready to talk to him. The tears I’ve been fighting for hours finally stream down my face as I stare at the cake in my hands. I know I look a little pathetic as I start humming the Happy Birthday song quietly to myself and I’m grateful no one is around to see me. Last year, Julian took me to the park on my birthday. We couldn’t afford to go to a restaurant, but he had prepared a picnic, and we had a candle-lit dinner on a blanket under the stars. I remember feeling so happy then. There was no question in my mind that he cared about me. This year, I’m wondering if he forgot all about it. He never even wished me a happy birthday. Instead, he stood me up so he could go to his secret fiancé’s party. It wasn’t even her actual birthday. I had heard that the party was early so she could spend her birthday on some tropical island next week. I’m lost in a cloud of self-pity when a tall figure appears in front of me. “Are you crying?” Adrian asks and my tears turn hot against my face. Why does he have to be here? I had hoped I would never see him again. “I’m fine.” I insist, though it’s obviously a lie. “No, you’re not.” He calls me out. “What’s wrong?” I sigh frustrated. I don’t feel like giving him an explanation, so I just say, “This is just not how I wanted my birthday to go today.” He frowns down at me, “I’m sorry. No one should have a bad day on their birthday.” He sits down next to me and pulls a lighter from his jacket pocket. Flicking it open and bringing the flame to life, he holds it over my cake like a candle. “Make a wish.” He says. I look at him confused. Why is he being nice to me? After everything that happened tonight, he should be furious. “Go on.” He urges me. “Make any wish you want, and I’ll do what I can to grant it. Even if it’s to fix things with your boyfriend.”

Chapter 1 Love Dies With One Final Snap Teresa Sullivan returned to Brocade Villa at 10 pm. The full moon marked her ovulation day, the 15th. Ever since her daughter Yolanda Logan was born, her in-laws had been pressuring her for another child. Most women would have laughed it off, saying there was no throne to inherit. But the Logans were different. As Riverdale's wealthiest family, their billion-dollar empire demanded a male heir. When Teresa stepped into the bedroom, her husband, Charles Logan, was already showered and ready. No pleasantries, no small talk, they went straight to business. Three minutes later, Charles went to the bathroom. When he returned, Teresa remained still in bed. He dressed with his back to her, tossing the words over his shoulder, "Test on schedule. Call me if it's positive." For five years, he had always treated her with such bare minimum of speech. Their marriage existed only on paper, while Charles openly maintained his relationship with his mistress. Teresa spent sleepless nights combing through his social media, tracing every digital footprint until she found the other woman's profile. Since then, she checked it compulsively, like picking at a scab that would never heal. Before the second-child plan, Teresa could hardly see Charles in person. She could only track her husband's life through the other woman's posts: lavish meals, exotic vacations, birthday celebrations. Now they met exactly once a month, like clockwork. Knowing Charles was eager to leave, Teresa quickly stood up. "Wait," she said, her voice catching. "We need to talk." Her hands clenched at her sides as she stared at his back. Charles slowly turned, his face a mask of cold indifference. "About what?" he asked, the words sharp as broken glass. Teresa's voice dropped to a whisper. "I want to make this work," she pleaded, knowing deep down it was probably too late. But she had to try. She had fought too hard for this marriage, for their family. Their daughter deserved better than failed parents. Charles showed no reaction. Teresa couldn't tell if he hadn't heard or was deliberately ignoring her. He finished buttoning his shirt, fastened his watch, and headed for the door without a word. This time, Teresa stayed by the bed. No desperate hugs. No pleading for him to stay. The old habits had died quietly. Just as Charles reached for the doorknob, Teresa's composure shattered. "You only come to Brocade Villa once a month," she cried, her voice cracking. "No calls. No meals together. We're complete strangers. Tell me, Charles, what kind of marriage even is this?" Charles stopped, turning just enough to meet her gaze. His eyes stayed dry as hers overflowed. "When you're carrying my son," he said flatly, "I'll return." The door clicked shut behind him. Teresa didn't move. For the first time, she let him walk away. She had poured her whole heart into this marriage. The birth of their daughter nearly killed her, with doctors issuing three critical warnings during her amniotic fluid embolism. Still, she had been willing to risk death again for a son. Now, standing alone in their empty bedroom, she started to wonder whether this sacrifice meant anything. After her shower, Teresa automatically grabbed her phone and opened the video app. The "Frequently Viewed" list showed just one account named YatesDaily, with its cheerful profile picture. A new post had gone up two minutes ago. The video displayed two shadowy figures under a streetlight, holding hands with matching bracelets. The caption read, [Two shadows under the light. One is mine. The other is also mine.] Her heart wrenched a bit, but quietly now. Where there once was a hurricane, only ripples remained. Perhaps she had grown accustomed to the feeling. These days, their meetings always ended the same way with Charles rushing off to see the other woman. But when the emotion faded, she clung to one certainty. As long as Charles needed her to bear his heir, no one could replace her as Mrs. Logan. But this hollow marriage was a bitter pill she had to keep swallowing day after lonely day. ***** A month later, on a chilly Tuesday evening, Teresa rushed into Brocade Villa, the still-warm pregnancy test report crumpled in her sweaty palm. Her heart pounded, not from running but from the two bold lines that changed everything. Tonight, she would finally have news worth celebrating. As Teresa stepped into the living room, her mother-in-law's sharp voice cut through the air, freezing her in the doorway. "Charles, you're 32," Roselyn Lockwood said. "Five years married and only one daughter. Meeting your wife once a month? How's she supposed to get pregnant like that? If it's really not working, let your mistress try. Any boy with Logan blood will do." Charles immediately rejected the idea, "That's not acceptable." Teresa stepped back, hiding in the shadows. For a brief moment, her heart fluttered, because Charles was standing up for her. After all, she remained his lawful wife, regardless of his affairs. But then his tone shifted, clinical and cold, "Remember her embolism during Yolanda's birth?" Roselyn's face darkened. "And who brought this curse into our home? The Logans never had such shame before." Her voice rose to a shrill pitch. "Other wives pop out babies like it's nothing. But our precious Teresa? One birth and we're the talk of the town for days. Humiliating!" Charles completely ignored his mother's complaints. Instead, he explained, "Childbirth is dangerous. Teresa has already been through it once. She can handle the risk. But Naomi is still young. I can't let her take that chance." Teresa stood rooted outside the door, shock coursing through her like electricity. She felt sad, but the tears wouldn't come. Knowing Charles had betrayed her and that their marriage was broken, she still had clung to the naive hope that a second child might bind him to her and that the Logan name would protect her. Now reality struck, colder and harsher than she had ever dreamed. It turned out, to Charles, she was just a womb for his heir. He had forgotten how she sank into darkness after Yolanda's birth, how the sight of blood made her tremble, how doctors fought to keep her alive. He fretted over the other woman's safety in childbirth, never realizing Teresa's risk was far deadlier. The voices inside the room gradually became distant echoes. Teresa's lips twisted in a bitter smile. She had nearly died giving the Logans a daughter, yet Charles sowed his betrayals like seeds. Clutching the pregnancy report, she thought maybe it was time to end it all. Today was their scheduled conception day, but the ritual now felt hollow. It turned out love died not with a slow fade, but with one final snap. At this moment, there was also no reason to keep the child in her belly. If no one else cared about her life, at least she should do that for herself. As Teresa turned to leave, their housekeeper Barbara Davis noticed her, "Mrs. Logan, you're back already?" Teresa forced a smile, thinking perhaps today was finally the day to mention divorce. Chapter 2 I'm Done Teresa hid the pregnancy test report before walking into the living room. The conversation between Roselyn and Charles abruptly stopped when she appeared. Breaking her usual routine, Teresa didn't even bother with greetings as she entered. Before she had foolishly believed that being the perfect wife and daughter-in-law would make her husband finally see her worth. But life had taught her a cruel lesson. Even if she ripped out her own heart and offered it to the Logans, they wouldn't spare her a glance. Five years of sacrificing everything for this marriage had left her with nothing. It was time to stop that now. Charles knew exactly why he had come home today. He gave Barbara a pointed look and ordered, "Barbara, show Teresa out." The whole time, Teresa stood silently in the corner, but her eyes had turned ice-cold. Charles was the capable head of Logan Group, running everything with perfect precision. He treated his elders with respect, stood by his friends through thick and thin, managed his team with fairness, and showed genuine care for all his employees. Everyone who knew Charles spoke of him with admiration. Their mutual friends often joked that Teresa must have performed miracles in her past life to be married to such a man. But his kindness never reached his own wife. After five years of marriage, Teresa finally understood the painful truth. This cold, empty marriage was not what she wanted anymore. As Roselyn passed by Teresa, she suddenly stopped and said with icy contempt, "If you can't produce a male heir, you'll never be a true Logan." Before, Teresa would have swallowed such words quietly. But those days were over. She met Roselyn's gaze, all former obedience gone from her eyes. "Roselyn, we're both women," she shot back. "Since when is the baby's gender just my fault?" Roselyn had always treated Teresa like a meek little mouse she could push around. This sudden defiance caught her off guard, but she wasn't about to tolerate it. Her hand shot out, the slap cracking like a whip across Teresa's cheek. "You dare talk back to me?" she snapped. "On your knees. Now." There was something almost brutal in her expression, laced with the confidence that Teresa would crumble under her dominance. She knew Teresa loved Charles enough to sacrifice dignity, cast off pride, and even debase herself as a servant for the Logans. But now, Teresa refused to just swallow her pain. Since the Logans had never valued her sacrifices or even her life, she wouldn't yield to them any more. Her eyes hardened as they met Roselyn's. Without a word, she stepped forward, raising her hand to swing. But before her slap could reach Roselyn, a large hand shot out and caught her wrist. At the same time, a deep, reprimanding voice growled in her ear, "Teresa, do you really need to make things worse?" Teresa raised her head, meeting Charles's sharply defined features. His icy gaze prickled against her skin like needles. This was the face that had once driven her wild with obsession, but now, as she studied it closely, a quiet revulsion stirred within her. 'How can anyone be this heartless? Being ignored, cheated on and treated like trash, I could live with that. But regarding me as some baby-making machine? Demanding another child like my life means nothing? That would kill me.' Just thinking about it made her sick. When she was about to say something, Charles suddenly flung her hand away with force and said coldly, "I'm not in the mood today. Ask me again next month." With that, he took Roselyn's arm and walked out. Roselyn glanced back with a smug look that said it all, 'Of course he would choose me. You were never family.' Before, Teresa would've crumbled when Charles took his mother's side. But now, she felt nothing. No tears. No hurt. Just empty silence. As Charles was leaving the hall, Teresa suddenly called out, "Charles." She always kept her word. Now that she had decided on divorce, nothing would stop her, just like when she had stubbornly married him despite her family's strong objections. Eight years of loving Charles had drained her completely. He never valued her, never tried to make their marriage work. The only reason he married her is she got pregnant, and he felt forced to do the right thing. Their marriage was a grave, but Teresa was the only one buried alive. She should have woken up years ago. Charles stopped at the doorway. Teresa thought he was listening to her. Drawing a steady breath, she finally said what she had held back for years, "I'm done. Let's end this." The words lifted a weight she had carried far too long. But Charles abruptly raised his phone to his ear. She caught only his hurried response, "Got it. On my way." Without even glancing back, he ushered Roselyn out of Brocade Villa, leaving Teresa's declaration hanging in the air. As his figure vanished, Teresa finally let out a hollow laugh. Her words, her moment of courage, meant nothing to him. Barbara came back from seeing them off and was startled to find Teresa still frozen in the middle of the living room, as if turned to stone by some ancient curse. "Mrs. Logan?" she called out cautiously, taking a hesitant step forward. Suddenly snapping back to reality, Teresa numbly walked to the sofa and sank down. "Barbara," she said, her voice hollow, "make me dinner." For years she had done everything herself, surviving on the crumbs of Charles's attention. His rare visits had been enough to sustain her foolish hope, but now she knew better. A bitter smile touched her lips as she remembered she had once been her family's treasured youngest daughter, so fiercely protected that she had never needed to lift a finger for anything. After dinner, Teresa went straight to the study and drew up divorce papers. The Sullivans were well-off, and as a pediatrician, she could easily provide for Yolanda. But five years of silent suffering had earned her nothing but a cold, indifferent husband. So she made it clear that Charles would surrender half of their marital assets, plus 700,000 monthly in child support. Teresa stopped writing when she got to the part about Yolanda. She didn't know who her daughter would choose to live with. Realizing she had to ask Yolanda first, she picked up the unfinished divorce papers and left Brocade Villa right away. After Yolanda's birth, Charles purchased Joyacre Villa for his daughter. Teresa had been Yolanda's full-time caregiver for four years before resuming her hospital work. But as her professional responsibilities grew, she found fewer opportunities to be with her daughter. Over the past six months, she had been doing specialized training at a major regional hospital in the neighboring city. The only times she had seen Charles recently were when her foolish heart hoped another baby might anchor her drifting husband. She was always busy, but still swapped shifts with coworkers, working three straight overnight shifts just to see Charles. It never entered her mind that she couldn't have another baby by herself. If she was too busy, Charles could have come to her. But he always chose the other woman instead. A little after nine in the evening, Teresa took a taxi to Joyacre Villa. As she was getting out of the car, her phone showed a new video notification from YatesDaily, one of her regularly watched accounts. Chapter 3 Yolanda Chooses The Other Teresa didn't mean to watch, but force of habit made her tap the video. There was just one photo of Charles crouching before Naomi Yates. Underneath it read, [Had some wine, caught a chill. Called and you came. Having you here means everything.] Teresa's chest tightened at the image. 'If they're so in love, maybe I should step aside. Just give me my daughter and my fair share of the assets in the divorce. That's all I need.' She pocketed her phone and walked into the living room. Sharon Miller, the long-time housekeeper at Joyacre Villa, looked up in surprise when Teresa entered. "Mrs. Logan," she said after a brief hesitation, "Miss Yolanda's in her playroom upstairs with those Barbies she loves so much." Sharon barely finished speaking when Yolanda's excited voice rang out from above, "Mommy?" Teresa's heart ached. It had been weeks since she held her daughter. She dashed upstairs, scooping Yolanda into her arms and sinking to her knees to cover Yolanda's face with kisses. When Teresa finally drew back to speak, she saw Yolanda furiously rubbing her face. The sight choked Teresa's words before they could form. Tears welled as she stared at her daughter, her heart in turmoil. "Mommy, you're just in time," Yolanda blurted out before Teresa could speak. "I was gonna call you. For kindergarten, I want East Street Preschool." Her whole face lit up at the words. Teresa didn't understand why, but seeing Yolanda so excited, she couldn't say no. After all, it was only kindergarten. They could change schools later if needed. "Okay," she smiled, "East Street Preschool then." Yolanda immediately started jumping up and down with delight. Teresa watched Yolanda's joyful face, her own words suddenly stuck in her throat. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her belly. Then, meeting Yolanda's eyes, she asked quietly, "Sweetheart, would you want a baby brother or sister?" Yolanda shifted impatiently from foot to foot, clearly wanting to go back to her room, but she paused to consider the question. After a moment, she nodded decisively. "Okay," she said, "then I want a brother." A sharp pain shot through Teresa's heart. With teary eyes, she asked, "What if Mommy is scared?" Though the physical danger was gone, her hands still trembled as she remembered those terrifying hours after Yolanda's birth. The blood, the rushing doctors, the fear she might never hold her baby. Yolanda tilted her head, studying Teresa's worried face with surprising seriousness. "Then don't be selfish, Mommy," she said. "You weren't scared to have me, right?" Teresa went completely still, her face turning pale as if struck by lightning. She stood frozen for what felt like ages, lips trembling before she managed to whisper, "Don't you care if you lose Mommy forever?" For four long years, Teresa had shouldered every parenting duty by herself, waking for midnight feedings, singing soft lullabies, tending to every cry and need. In all that time, she couldn't remember a single uninterrupted night's sleep. Now, after all that sacrifice, she just wondered if her little girl still loved her. Yolanda's nose scrunched in annoyance. "I'm sleepy now," she declared. Before Teresa could react, Yolanda had scampered off, her bedroom door slamming shut. Left alone on the stairs, Teresa stood frozen, a hollow chill spreading through her chest. Soon, Yolanda's excited voice drifted from the bedroom. "Miss Naomi, I'm going to East Street Preschool! You can pick me up after work. It's right near your office. And no babies for you and Daddy, okay? Mommy says it's dangerous. She has done it before with me, so she can do it again. I really miss your bedtime stories and your hugs." Teresa stood outside the bedroom door, her chest aching as she remembered how Yolanda had wiped away her kisses earlier. She had believed that no matter what happened with Charles, her daughter would always be hers. Yet now Yolanda was pushing her away too, just like what her father had done. Teresa finally realized all her sacrifices and efforts were nothing but a joke. No one cared about what she had endured. Moving like a sleepwalker, she made her way downstairs. Sharon reached out when she saw Teresa's hollow expression, but got only a silent wave in reply. As soon as Teresa stepped out of Joyacre Villa, she pulled out her phone and called Charles. Ring after ring went unanswered. Usually she would hang up after a few tries, but tonight she kept hitting redial like a madwoman. When Charles finally answered, his voice was clipped, "I'm busy. If this is important—" Charles hadn't finished speaking when Teresa's voice cut in, sharp as glass shards, "Meet me. Now." The calm demand erupted into raw screams. Charles's face darkened at her outburst. When Teresa finally calmed down, Charles replied in an icy tone, "Whatever it is, we'll talk next month." The line went dead before Teresa could respond, leaving her clutching the silent phone. This was classic Charles, cutting her off, leaving her screaming into the void. Five years of this had hollowed her out. Divorce was the only way. But she would fight tooth and nail for Yolanda. Even if Yolanda seemed to favor Naomi now, those countless nights soothing a fussy baby still meant something. That bond couldn't be broken so easily. Teresa had just made up her mind when a Rolls Royce came to a sudden stop at the villa gates. Through the windshield, she saw Charles behind the wheel and Naomi Yates sitting beside him, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. Charles met Teresa's gaze through the glass, the air between them thick with silence. In the past, Teresa was too afraid to confront Naomi's presence. Now, she couldn't even bring herself to care. After an agonizing silence, Charles finally stepped out of the car. Ignoring Teresa completely, he moved to open the door for Naomi. But Teresa called out sharply, "Charles. We need to talk." Charles kept moving, his hand already on the door handle. Teresa seized his wrist and forced it down. "Sleep with every woman in this city if you want," she spat through clenched teeth, "but that mistress of yours stays away from my daughter." At last, Charles looked at her. His gaze was cold, his voice low and dismissive, "Naomi would make a better mother than you." With that, he pushed past her and opened the car door. Teresa stood rooted to the spot, the cruel meaning dawning on her. 'Did he just say Naomi should be Yolanda's mother?' Chapter 4 Bad Mommy The car door opened. Charles held it with one hand and reached out to Naomi with the other. Their hands touched just as Teresa turned around. She should have felt hurt seeing this, but instead she was calm. Perhaps she had finally understood everything. That was why she could stand there so quietly now. She would've cried her heart out before. But now, all she could think was confronting Charles. "Charles," she said, her lips trembling, voice unsteady, "what exactly did you mean by that?" Naomi stepped out of the car, her hand still tucked in Charles's arm. Their long shadows blended together under the moonlight. Charles acted as if he hadn't heard Teresa, leading Naomi toward Joyacre Villa instead. Teresa had lost track of how many times she had been ignored like this. Her heart had taken too many blows already. But when it came to her daughter, she couldn't back down. Before she knew it, she had grabbed Charles's wrist with surprising force. "Charles!" Her voice cut through the night. "You owe me an explanation." Charles finally stopped and turned, his gaze icy. With a quick twist, he freed his wrist effortlessly. "You're busy with work," he said coldly, "and Yolanda's still young. She needs care. When you're pregnant again, Naomi will take care of Yolanda." That was Charles, always deciding things alone, declaring them like orders, not discussions. But this time, Teresa refused to accept his unilateral decision. When she had first planned her training in the neighboring city, she had personally chosen a nanny for Yolanda. Only last month did she learn Charles had fired the nanny a long time ago. During her half-year absence, Naomi had moved into Joyacre Villa, where the three of them had been living together as a happy family. Teresa had always avoided making scenes, clinging to the faint hope that Charles still respected her as his wife. But now, even her daughter was being taken from her. She couldn't simply walk away. When it came to Yolanda's care, Teresa's calm finally broke. "I can raise my own child," she said, her voice shaking. "We don't need any outsiders." Charles brushed aside Teresa's protests like they were nothing. "The matter is decided," he stated flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Teresa's patience finally snapped. "I said I'll take care of my own daughter!" Her voice rang out, sharper than she had ever allowed herself to sound before. The air grew thick with tension. Noticing the rising conflict, Naomi, who had been quietly standing behind Charles, gently stepped in, "Charles, maybe you two should talk this out? I'll go see how Yolanda is doing." She waited for Charles's approving nod before heading back toward Joyacre Villa. Just then, Teresa's sharp command stopped her, "Naomi, stay right there." The instant Naomi glanced back, Teresa's hand flew out, a loud slap landing across her face. Charles immediately pushed Teresa away and wrapped Naomi protectively in his arms. "Did she hurt you?" he asked urgently, examining the red mark blooming on her cheek. Naomi covered her stinging face, tears springing to her eyes with picture-perfect timing, the very image of wronged innocence. Charles was worried about Naomi. But Teresa felt no guilt. No decent woman would meddle this deeply with a married man. Then again, it took two to tango. Charles bore equal blame. Just as Teresa opened her mouth to say something, a small figure came sprinting from Joyacre Villa. Yolanda came running in a hurry, her small feet bare on the ground. The moment she got close, she threw herself at Naomi, wrapping both arms tightly around Naomi's legs. Her wide eyes brimmed with concern as she looked up. "Miss Naomi, does it hurt?" she whispered, voice quivering. Yolanda was getting ready for bed when she saw her father's car pull up through the window. Spotting him returning with Miss Naomi, she bolted downstairs. She reached the doorway just as Teresa's slap landed. Without a second thought, she ran to them, leaving her shoes behind in her hurry. Teresa stood rooted to the spot, watching her husband and daughter comfort this outsider. A sharp pain shot through her chest. She could practically hear her heart breaking. But what hurt most was seeing the little rose she had raised now pricking her with its thorns. Her hand shook as she reached out, her voice cracking, "Yolanda." Teresa barely got the name out when Yolanda spun around, face flushed with anger. The next instant, Yolanda flew at Teresa, small fists beating against Teresa's thighs. "Bad Mommy! Bad Mommy!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with rage. "Why would you hurt Miss Naomi? I hate you!" Teresa stood frozen, her face going pale in an instant. The realization hit her like a physical blow. Everything she had fought for in the custody battle had been nothing but her own foolish fantasy. Neither her husband nor her daughter wanted her anymore. In that moment, she became the punchline of her own life's cruel joke. But the most painful part was that she carried another child for a man who had never loved her. Teresa barely noticed how long Yolanda kept hitting her, when it stopped, or what else the little girl screamed. Those two words "Bad Mommy" had killed every bit of hope left. Numb, she stood frozen for a long moment. Then she let out a hollow laugh and walked away, without even glancing at Charles or Yolanda. Behind her, Charles and Yolanda kept huddling around Naomi, never noticing Teresa's departure. As she rounded the corner, she stole one final look back at the two people who had been her whole world for five years. Charles held Naomi's right hand while Yolanda clung to her left as they walked together, the three of them forming the very image of a loving family returning home. Teresa's lips quivered into a semblance of a smile, all her sorrow trapped inside. She longed to weep, but the tears refused to surface. These five years had sucked her dry. Never again would she burn herself to light their way. She walked away from Joyacre Villa alone, step by step replaying the past five years in her mind. Somewhere inside, she had always known this relationship was eating her alive. She just couldn't admit it. But now her eyes were open. From this moment on, she would put herself first. Teresa took a cab back to Brocade Villa. In the study, she prepared a new divorce agreement, stating that all assets would be divided equally and that she would not seek custody of their daughter. She placed the signed papers neatly on the desk, and then drove through the night back to the neighboring city. ***** After a night's rest, Teresa went to the hospital early. The doctor on duty was her old college friend, Sylvia Morris, who knew some of Teresa's marital troubles. When Sylvia heard Teresa's decision to end the pregnancy, she was shocked. "This baby didn't come easy," Sylvia said. "Why let go now? Even if things are bad between you, you can keep the baby without the man." Teresa met Sylvia's gaze steadily, her voice firm. "Sylvia, a woman's true strength lies in making responsible choices about motherhood. What's more, my life matters too. The surgery will be this morning. This is my final decision." The Teresa of the past no longer existed. From this moment forward, she would reserve her love for herself and those who genuinely cared for her. Those who failed to love her deserved no place in her life. Chapter 5 That Chapter Has Closed When Teresa woke up, she found herself in a hospital bed. Sylvia checked on her and said, "Stay two more days before discharge. Then get proper rest at home." Teresa nodded. She had decided to take a full month off. Her body mattered, and she would treat it right. After Sylvia left, Teresa checked her phone. The screen showed no missed calls from Charles. Clearly, last night had meant nothing to him. But for Teresa, everything had changed. This painful realization finally freed her from endless emotional exhaustion and struggle. Out of habit, she opened the video app. Naomi's post appeared first, with a subtle suggestion that they might know each other. The video showed Naomi holding a child's hand. Even from behind, Teresa recognized Yolanda instantly. The caption simply read, [It feels good to be needed.] The familiar backdrop was unmistakably Joyacre Villa's living room. Teresa's lips twitched in automatic response, the ghost of a smile flickering briefly. Then she pressed down on the post and selected Not Interested. No longer would she be a silent witness to their lives. That chapter had closed for good. ***** After leaving the hospital, Teresa hired a live-in caregiver. She followed her doctor's advice carefully, resting at home for a full month. When the recovery period ended, she paid the caregiver. Then she changed into a simple dress, applied light makeup, and drove straight to Riverdale. It was the 15th, their usual day to try for another baby. Teresa never really enjoyed being with Charles. He always rushed through it, eager to get back to Naomi. But tonight wasn't about having a child. Tonight, she would seriously tell him she wanted a divorce. Teresa reached Brocade Villa around 7 pm. Seeing her arrival, Barbara quickly set about making dinner. After the meal, Teresa headed upstairs to the study. On the desk sat the divorce papers, completely untouched, just like she had left them last month. Clearly, Charles hadn't come home the entire time. Teresa waited until past 9 pm, growing impatient. Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside. But when the door opened, it was only Barbara. "Mrs. Logan, Mr. Logan just called. He said he's busy tonight and won't be back. He told you to come back next month instead." Teresa laughed bitterly. She came back this month, but she wouldn't be coming next month. She was tired of being chained to this marriage. After a short pause, she stood and said to Barbara, "When he comes back, tell him I left something on the desk for him." Barbara nodded silently. Teresa grabbed her bag and walked out of Brocade Villa. With no destination in mind, she drove aimlessly through the city streets. Her hands moved automatically on the steering wheel until, without conscious thought, she found herself outside Riverdale Auditorium, where crowds of young people were pouring out after some event. The crowd gradually dispersed until only three figures remained. Charles and Naomi walked side by side, each holding one of Yolanda's hands. The three of them exchanged warm smiles, creating a picture of perfect happiness. Teresa froze at the sight. Yolanda swung Naomi's arm playfully and said in her sweetest voice, "Miss Naomi, you looked like a shining fairy up there. Your piano playing was wonderful. When I grow up, will you teach me too? Please, Miss Naomi?" Naomi stood glowing in a white evening dress, bright as a night-time star. She bent down to Yolanda's level with a kind smile, tapping the girl's nose gently. "If you want to learn," she laughed, "of course I'll teach you." Yolanda bounced excitedly, then looked up at Charles with shining eyes. "Daddy, Miss Naomi is the best, right?" Charles' eyes softened as he nodded, his expression full of pride and admiration. Yolanda grinned from ear to ear. "I wanna be just like Miss Naomi when I'm big." Teresa watched through the glass. She had never seen that look of love in her daughter's eyes. Marriage had consumed her completely. Over the years, she had given everything to her family, slowly losing herself in the process. To Yolanda, she was just the woman in the kitchen, while Naomi seemed like an unattainable angel. The realization struck like a knife to the heart. At the auditorium entrance, Yolanda suddenly bounced on her toes, arms stretched high. "Miss Naomi, pick me up!" Charles gently stepped between them, quietly noting Naomi's evening gown wasn't suitable for lifting a child. Yolanda's little face instantly clouded with disappointment. Naomi took in the scene. With a warm laugh, she swept Yolanda into her arms, shooting Charles a reassuring look. "Don't worry, I've got her," she said. Charles's stern expression melted into something tender as he watched them, his eyes glowing with quiet affection. Naomi carried Yolanda down the steps, the little girl nestling against her shoulder while Charles followed close behind, carefully gathering Naomi's gown to prevent it from dragging. The man who dominated corporate meetings now gently tended to a woman's dress. And just like that, the three settled into the car and vanished down the street. Teresa let out a bitter laugh. 'So this is what kept him busy.' She sat motionless in her car, staring blankly ahead, until her phone suddenly rang. The screen displayed Matthew Spencer's name. Matthew was her direct supervisor at the hospital. Though fully qualified in pediatric surgery, Teresa had to restart as a junior doctor after her four-year leave as a full-time mother. "Mr. Spencer," she answered politely. Matthew's voice came through clearly. "We're approving early completion of your training. You can return to regular hospital shifts next Monday." Teresa paused, then asked carefully, "What about that countryside program for kids' check-ups? I'd like to help out there." Matthew sounded surprised. "That's tough work with few career benefits. It's completely voluntary. The hospital isn't forcing anyone to go." But Teresa had made up her mind. "I'm willing to go, Mr. Spencer. Think of it as my working break." Hearing her unwavering resolve, Matthew stopped pressing the matter and approved a two-month placement. ***** A month flew by. Yolanda had settled well into preschool. With family pressure mounting after two straight failed months, Charles returned to Brocade Villa earlier than usual on the 15th. By 6 pm, Charles was already home. Barbara was surprised to see him return before Teresa. "You're early today, Mr. Logan?" she asked. Without answering the question, Charles made his way upstairs. "Send Teresa to the bedroom when she gets back," he instructed curtly. Barbara gave a slight nod, her eyes following him up the steps. Charles walked straight past the study. There was no reason to go anywhere else. His only reason for coming home was to try for another baby. After showering, he settled into bed to wait for Teresa. The hours dragged on from seven to eight to nine, yet Teresa remained absent. Just as his patience was wearing thin, footsteps finally sounded at the door. Chapter 6 Unanswered Calls The door opened. Charles flipped the light switch without thinking. The room was instantly engulfed in darkness. As he untied his robe, he said, "It's late. Let's begin. I've got things to do later." Light from the hallway crept in, barely illuminating the figure in the doorway. Barbara stiffened at Charles's words. "Mr. Logan, it's just me," she whispered, lingering nervously in the doorway. Charles was momentarily stunned. Realizing his mistake, he turned the light back on and looked at Barbara, his tone laced with confusion. "She hasn't returned yet?" Barbara's forehead glistened with sweat as she shook her head. "Not yet, Mr. Logan." The room's air turned leaden with tension. Noticing Charles's displeasure, Barbara added, "Mrs. Logan is normally home by six. Maybe something came up tonight?" Her voice trailed off uncertainly. Charles understood her kind intention but only replied with a terse, "Got it." When Barbara was about to remind him to sleep early, he abruptly sat up, leaving her words unspoken. Five minutes later, Charles changed his clothes and left Brocade Villa. Barbara saw him off downstairs, a nagging sense of forgetting something tugging at her. It wasn't until Charles's car disappeared from sight that she remembered Teresa had mentioned something in the study. Charles had just pulled out of Brocade Villa when his phone lit up with Naomi's call. "What's wrong?" he answered, his unusually gentle expression softened further by the dim interior light. Naomi's voice came softly through the phone. "Charles, I have an important performance tomorrow, but Yolanda's preschool is having Family Fun Day. I don't think I can make it." Charles didn't even consider asking Teresa first. "Teresa will go," he said, deciding for her like he always did. "Thank you," Naomi replied, her voice lifting with relief. "I've already discussed it with Yolanda. Would you mind passing the message along to Ms. Sullivan when you get a chance?" Charles said, "Don't worry. Just focus on your performance." Hanging up, he pulled the car over to the side of the road. After checking his call list for a long time, he still couldn't find Teresa's number. That was when he realized she hadn't called him in months. For years when Teresa stayed home with Yolanda, she called every day to ask if he would be home for dinner. He only occasionally returned, just to see their daughter. After they talked about having another baby, she still frequently called to check if he was coming home. He often ignored her calls, either hanging up or letting the phone ring. But when he needed to reach her, her number was right there in his phone. But now when Charles kept scrolling through his call log, her number was nowhere to be found. When he finally spotted it, the last call showed it was 3 months ago. Charles couldn't even remember if he had answered that one. Without hesitation, he dialed that number, only hearing an automated message saying the call could not go through. This had never happened before. Surprised, he tried again but got the same result. After several failed attempts, he finally gave up. He thought about video-calling Teresa on WhatsApp but couldn't find her contact. Left with no other option, he sent a text, [Yolanda has a Family Fun Day at her school tomorrow. She wants you there. East Street Preschool, at 2 pm.] With the message sent, Charles drove away. Charles assumed Teresa must be busy, which explained the missed calls. He was sure she would see the message and take Yolanda to the event. Content with this thought, he let his worries go. ***** At 9 pm, Teresa finished her evening shift at the village school. Exhausted, she trudged back to the teacher's dorm, washed up, and collapsed into bed. Her silenced phone lay untouched beside her. She didn't check it before falling asleep. The next morning, Teresa was awakened by a sound from her phone. Still half-asleep, she picked it up and saw it wasn't an alarm but a calendar reminder about her father-in-law's birthday tomorrow. In previous years, she would have woken up early to go to the morning market for groceries. Then she would spend the entire day cooking fancy dishes for the birthday dinner party. But this year was different. She decided not to do that anymore. After closing the reminder, she put down her phone and went back to sleep for a while longer. ***** Today was Friday. Teresa finished work at 2 pm. Before, she had only remembered her father-in-law's birthday, forgetting it was also her dad's special day. But this year, she would head back to her parents' house tonight and cook a hearty meal for her own family tomorrow. As for Charles's text, it had long been buried under a flood of notifications. ***** Teresa arrived at her parents' place at 6 pm, just in time for dinner. Walking into the living room, she saw the whole family were there. Monica Sullivan, deep in her puzzle, jumped when a figure appeared in the doorway. Squinting for a better look, she suddenly recognized her long-absent aunt. The puzzle pieces scattered as she sprinted across the room and clung to Teresa's legs. "Aunt Teresa, you're back!" Teresa dropped to her knees and gathered Monica into a fierce hug, pressing a kiss to the child's cheek. Words choked in her throat, her eyes stinging as she fought back tears. Monica locked her arms around Teresa's neck, smacking a loud kiss on her aunt's cheek. Then she yelled toward the kitchen, "Dad! Mom! Aunt Teresa's home!" Hearing the words, Theodore Sullivan and Yvonne Wesley emerged from the kitchen. Theodore's face lit up at first glimpse of Teresa, but the joy evaporated instantly. Noticing his stern expression, Yvonne gave him a subtle elbow nudge before turning to Teresa with a warm smile. "Just in time. Dinner's about to be served." Monica walked towards Yvonne, tugging her mother's sleeve. "Mom, Aunt Teresa's favorite is prosciutto. You said we had to save it till she visited. Now can we have some?" Yvonne tapped Monica's nose with a chuckle. "Such a greedy girl. Alright, we'll have some today." Monica squealed with delight, her tiny hands clapping and ponytails swinging wildly with every jump. Theodore kept his eyes averted from Teresa, his disapproval settling on Monica instead. "Don't waste your affection on those who don't appreciate it," he grumbled under his breath. Teresa's family had always loved her. But she threw herself into serving the Logans, never getting so much as a thank you. They took her for granted while her real family suffered. Actually, she was too ashamed to come back tonight. But she knew the love from her family was always there. Her brother and father might act tough, but they cared deeply. Her mother never stopped waiting for her. Her sister-in-law was always kind and understanding. And her niece was so adorable. It was time to hold on to those who really loved her. The coldness of the past was only worth leaving behind. -------------------------------------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)

I’ve died once already. When the cold wall shattered my skull, I thought it was the end. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back—ten years earlier, in Aloville Medical School. Everyone stared at me like I was the villain who framed Natalie just to climb higher. Vincent forced me to write an apology, Aiden stood coldly by, and even my old crew betrayed me. But they didn’t know—I remembered exactly how this played out. Natalie would win them all with her tears, my professor would destroy me, and I’d sink alone into the abyss. Not this time. This life, I’ll rip the mask off their lies, reclaim my honor, and turn the tables. If fate gave me a second chance, then I’ll be the one pushing them into hell. 1.Chapter 1 Back From The Dead "Josie, you know you screwed up, right?" Vincent Oldham's voice yanked Josie Pearson out of her fog. Her eyes zeroed in on his face, sharp and familiar. 'Wait, didn't I die?' she thought. Two years after her mentor sold her out and landed her in prison, she'd hit rock bottom, crashing her head into a wall to escape the depression. 'So why am I staring at Vincent, my old college buddy?' Josie blinked hard, her eyes burning. 'Am I tripping again? 'Imagining my crew's here to spring me from jail?' "Look, we get it—you're gunning to join Professor David Lawson's research team. But that's no excuse for throwing Natalie under the bus," Vincent said, his tone sharp. "You realize what you've done? You accused Natalie of jacking your paper, and now she's so messed up she hasn't shown her face at school in days. "Keep this up, Josie, and you're gonna push her off the deep end. When did you turn so cold-blooded?" Vincent was getting pissed, slamming his coffee mug on the table when she didn't respond. The sharp clunk snapped her out of it. This wasn't a dream. She was really here, face-to-face with Vincent—ten years younger Vincent. Holy crap. She'd somehow jumped back a decade. Right now, she was still a senior at Aloville Medical School, fresh off nailing the written exam for Professor David Lawson's elite research team. She'd crushed it, landing a spot in the final round. But then came the sucker punch: Natalie Kinberg's thesis was a near clone of hers—same angle, same methods, same vibe. No way that was a coincidence. While Josie was digging for answers, rumors about Natalie plagiarizing spread like wildfire. David's project was a big deal—first of its kind in the country, with a team of rockstar researchers, including five of Josie's seniors. Those five had been her crew since sophomore year, always having her back in class and life. They were family. Then Natalie showed up, and it all flipped. The support, the late-night study sessions, the laughs—they all went to her. Even David, who used to praise Josie's grind, started treating Natalie like the star pupil. When the plagiarism rumors hit, her seniors swore Josie was the one stirring the pot. Even David tore into her, face red with anger. Josie wasn't Natalie's biggest fan, no lie. She'd been competitive, always trying to outshine her, desperate to reclaim the spotlight. But she never spread those rumors or accused Natalie of stealing. "You really blew it," Vincent said, his voice softening a bit. "Professor Lawson's giving you a shot, though. Apologize to Natalie in front of the whole school, and he'll let it go. "He'll even keep the administration from nailing you with a punishment." "But if you keep doubling down and dragging her name through the mud, you're done. Expulsion's on the table." "Fine. I'll apologize," Josie said, her voice flat, eyes locked on his. Vincent was a year ahead, a small-town kid like her who'd fought his way into this school. She'd known him longest—four years. She thought he'd have her back, trust her when she said she didn't start this drama. Nope. He was the first one here, pushing her to eat crow. Vincent blinked, caught off guard by her quick surrender. Josie didn't cave this easy, not the Josie he knew. Still, an apology was a win, so he didn't push. "Alright, it's a deal," he said. "I'll tell Professor Lawson. Write that apology letter tonight. You're reading it to the whole school tomorrow." Josie's lips curled into a sharp, bitter smirk. She wasn't that gullible girl anymore. She knew the truth: Natalie spread those rumors herself, playing the victim to turn everyone against Josie. Depression? Just a sob story to make the seniors fawn over her. But that wasn't the point now. Josie wanted to know how Natalie jacked her thesis without leaving a trace. In her old life, she'd refused to apologize. The mess blew up, the school investigated, and they found nothing on Natalie. Meanwhile, Josie got hit with a disciplinary record, her seniors called her heartless, and that stain wrecked her job prospects after graduation. Not this time. She wasn't taking the fall. If someone was going down, it sure as hell wouldn't be her. The next morning, Josie steeled herself to eat humble pie and make her public apology. She threw on her backpack and stepped out of the dorm, chin up despite the knot in her gut. As she crossed campus, the whispers and side-eyes trailed her like a bad smell. "There she is—Professor Lawson's former golden girl. Got all jealous and trashed the department's darling for supposedly jacking her paper." "She thought she was all that with her grades, catching the eye of our five campus hotties. Then Natalie rolls in—just as smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and actually nice." "Look at that sour face. She's not even in Natalie's league. Why those guys still have her back is beyond me." "Have her back? Please. They're all Team Natalie now. This whole 'say sorry in front of everyone' thing? Aiden's call." 'Aiden's idea, huh?' Josie let out a sharp, bitter scoff and picked up her pace to dodge the gossip. She'd barely hit the quad when Jaden Monroe, her senior, caught up. Jaden was a first-year grad student who'd saved her bacon back in her senior year. She'd been floundering in her toughest classes, and he'd tossed her his killer notes, helping her ace her exams. When he was stressing over grad school apps, Josie had pulled all-nighters hunting down research and reference books for him. She'd never owed him or any of the guys a thing. Jaden shot her a look, heavy with disappointment. "Josie, I always thought you were one of the good ones. "Never figured you'd pull something this low just to get ahead. And Natalie? She's too kind to even hold it against you. "You didn't see her after what you did. She's a mess—skinnier, totally worn out. Those big, bright eyes? No spark left." "And still, she's got your back. Went to Professor Lawson on the down-low, begging him to let you off this public apology crap. But you gotta have a heart, yeah?" "So when you see her, you better say sorry—and mean it, okay?" Josie dropped her gaze, lashes hiding the fire in her eyes. "Got it, Jaden. I'll make things right with her, I swear." "Should've thought twice before pulling that stunt." Jaden almost kept going, but seeing her stand there, head down like a kid who got caught, made him ease up. Deep down, he'd always seen Josie as a solid kid—smart, hardworking, always chasing her academic dreams. Everyone respected her grind. 'So how the hell did she think screwing someone over for a spot was okay?' Jaden wondered, shaking his head. 'What a letdown.' With a heavy sigh, Jaden led her toward Professor Lawson's office. 2.Chapter 2 Saying Sorry The air in David's office was thick with tension as the whole team sat crammed inside. When Josie walked in, the vibe turned frosty, faces souring like they'd bitten into a lemon. Except for Natalie. She jumped up, flashing a grin bright enough to blind. "Josie! You showed!" "I'm here to say sorry," Josie said, sidestepping Natalie's grabby hands. She didn't have Natalie's gift for playing nice with people she couldn't stand. Natalie faltered, like she'd been caught off guard. "Wait, you still think I'm shady, don't you?" Her voice quivered, eyes glistening like she was about to bawl. "I didn't copy your paper, Josie. Take it to the dean if you don't believe me. Let them figure it out." Josie dropped her gaze, looking more pathetic than Natalie's theatrics. "I'm apologizing, okay? The papers looking so similar threw me, but I wasn't gonna snitch. "I didn't breathe a word to anyone else." The team, who'd been glaring at Josie like she'd kicked a puppy, started to rethink things. Josie wasn't a gossip—she barely had friends outside the lab. This drama? She'd only mentioned it to them. Aiden's frown eased, his eyes settling on Josie. "I buy that you didn't mean to stir the pot, but Natalie got burned. "If you hadn't gone all detective, people wouldn't be whispering about her stealing your work." "An apology's not too much to ask," he added, arms crossed. Aiden was the team's golden boy—brains, looks, the whole package. Josie had picked this major partly because it was the med school's hot ticket, but let's be real: Aiden was a big reason too. He'd been her hero once. Once. Not anymore. "Fair point," Kyle Langton, another senior, chimed in. "Josie, I'm with Aiden. You didn't mean to cause a mess. "Natalie's a softie, so just smooth it over, and we're all cool." Josie nearly laughed. Natalie, a softie? Yeah, right. But she zipped it. "Got it, Kyle. I'll fix this." Turning to Natalie, she said, "I'm sorry, Natalie. I messed up, and it hurt you. Honest—can we move past this?" Then it hit her. Josie had been tight with this crew for years before Natalie rolled in. Breaking that bond? Tougher than she thought. Natalie flashed a sugary smile. "Josie, I was never mad! Forgive? Psh, nothing to forgive!" She spun to David, plopping down beside him with a flirty grin, voice all sweet. "Told ya, Professor Lawson. Josie wouldn't try to screw me over. Cut her some slack, yeah?" Lawson wasn't biting. His face was hard as granite, shooting Josie a look that could freeze lava. "On purpose or not, she screwed up. And screw-ups have consequences. So, Josie, how should I deal with you?" David's face was like stone as he shot Josie a hard stare. He'd always thought she was the good girl—smart, driven, a total overachiever. Now? He wasn't so sure. To him, grades were one thing, but a shady character was a dealbreaker. 'She's gotta learn her lesson,' he decided. 'No more badmouthing her classmates.' Josie had puzzled over why everyone bought Natalie's act. After some soul-searching, it clicked: Natalie was gorgeous and a master at playing the damsel. Josie couldn't compete. So she swallowed her pride. "Whatever you say, Professor Lawson." "We're kicking off research soon," David said, voice sharp. "Your punishment? Sort every scrap of data. Make it so we can grab what we need, no fuss, no muss." He waved them off. As they headed out, Josie, stuck in the middle, flashed back to her old life. She'd been slapped with a disciplinary note and kicked off the team. To make things right, she'd buried herself in the archives, sorting documents like a machine. It took a brutal month—one meal a day, late nights, the works. She ended up with a messed-up stomach and flunked classes. And the thanks? Nada. They just griped her work wasn't good enough. 'What a load of crap,' she thought. 'Bust your tail, and they still dump on you.' Now, here she was again, stuck with the same lousy job. "Hey, Josie, I'll help you out," Natalie said, catching up and linking arms with her. "If I keep my mouth shut, the prof won't know." "She's got this coming," Jaden cut in, pulling Natalie back. "Why cover for her?" Vincent glanced at Natalie. "Chill about Professor Lawson. Sorting files is nothing compared to a real punishment." "Got it, thanks, Vince," Josie said with a quick smile, hurrying after Natalie. "Hey, Nat, I was so caught up saying sorry earlier, I forgot—I got you a little something." She pulled a sleek box from her bag. The group stopped cold, crowding around. "That Aiden's medal?" Tianna blurted. Vincent nodded. "Yeah, his first big win in that med competition. He loved that thing—till he gave it to you to cheer you up." "Spot on," Josie said, eyeing the group. "I was new, totally bombed an experiment, and Professor Lawson chewed me out. Aiden gave me this medal, said it was lucky. "And you know what? After that, I was golden—no more screw-ups." She held the box out to Natalie. "Natalie, I heard this mess really got you down—depression and all. Take this. It's like a good-luck charm. "You'll be set from now on. Aiden swore by it." Natalie's eyes lit up. She wanted that medal. Not just for its shine, but because it was Aiden's—his first victory, something special. In her eyes, Josie didn't deserve it. But snagging it right in front of him? That was ballsy. "Josie, that's sweet, but it's Aiden's gift to you," Natalie said, pushing the box back. "I can't take it." 3.Chapter 3 Picking A New Major Josie shot Aiden a quick glance before shoving the medal into Natalie's hands. "Heard it was Aiden's big idea to make you apologize in front of everyone. "He's clearly got a soft spot for you. It's just a medal—he won't care if it cheers you up." "Right, Aiden?" Josie shot him a sly grin. That grin stung like a jab. Aiden knew she was salty about the whole apology deal. 'She's the one who screwed up!' he thought, steaming. 'How's she gonna be so petty?' That medal wasn't just some cheap token—it was his first, handed over with so much pride. Back then, he'd been over the moon to give it to her. Now? Total regret. 'She doesn't get it,' he fumed. 'I treated her like my little sis, always had her back, helped her out. 'And what do I get? All that care, tossed in the trash.' "Nice one, Josie," Aiden growled, snatching the medal back. Josie didn't flinch. She raised an eyebrow. "What, not cool with cheering up your little star? Thought you'd love it." "You don't just regift something someone gave you," Natalie snapped, pouting. "Come on, Josie, that's basic." "But you're not just anyone," Josie said, all innocent with a blink. "You're the team's darling. Aiden's fine with it, right?" "Over the moon," Aiden said, his calm mask cracking with a scowl. He shoved the medal at Natalie. "Here, kid. Keep it safe. Don't be like some people who flunk Gift 101." He stormed off. The second he was gone, Natalie's face darkened. She'd always wanted that medal, but like this? It felt wrong. Josie was bolder than she thought, humiliating Aiden in front of everyone. 'Is she trying to get booted from the team?' she wondered. "Josie, what's your deal?" Vincent groaned, glaring. "Why tick off Aiden? You still wanna do research or not?" Josie sighed. "I thought he'd be stoked since he's so into Natalie. How was I supposed to know he'd flip?" She glanced at Natalie. "My bad, Natalie. Didn't think he'd care. But he's fine now, so it's yours." She sauntered off without a glance back. The others swapped looks, thrown. Josie, the quiet research geek, was acting off. Something was definitely up. ***** The next day, Josie slipped into the library. No way was she here to play good student and sort files like her past life. Her mission was picking a new major. Med school was a five-year slog, and she was deep in her senior year. Switching now was a long shot. But sticking with her current major? Made her wanna puke. It wasn't the program's fault—it was the fact she'd burned bridges with the team's big shots. Staying meant signing up for hell. She wasn't here to get crushed, not with a second chance. She knew the team was headed for a dumpster fire. So there was no need to stick around. Plus, leaving was the only way to see Natalie's true game and unravel the mysteries from her old life. The catch? She had zero clue what major to pick. And that was a problem. She'd spent all afternoon tearing through every book on majors in the library, desperate for one she could pick up fast and graduate with in a year. No dice. Ready to call it quits and try again tomorrow, she spun around too fast and kicked a table leg. A guy napping at the table jolted awake, his book hitting the floor with a thud. Josie winced, snatching it up. "Oh, shoot, I'm so sorry! I didn't—" Her eyes caught the title, and her apology stalled. "Acupuncture?" "Who said you could touch that?!" The guy yanked the book from her and stormed out. "Why'd you go and mess with him?" Kyle strolled in, pulling Josie aside. "You okay? He didn't get in your face, did he?" Josie shook her head. "I'm good. I just knocked his book off. Guy's got a right to be ticked. What're you doing here, Kyle?" "Vincent and Jaden got held up, so I came instead." Kyle handed her a lunchbox. "No way I'm letting you sort this mess alone." Josie took it with a grin. Things were different this time. In her old life, they'd iced her out. But now, after apologizing to Natalie, they were actually being nice. She wasn't fooled, though—it was all about Natalie, not because they trusted her. Back then, she hadn't apologized. No matter how much she explained, nobody bought it. Once, while stuck in the library, she'd seen Kyle pass by with a lunchbox. Starving, she'd asked if she could have some to save time. Kyle had scoffed, saying the food was for Natalie and that a "nobody" like her didn't deserve it. Just because she hadn't kissed up to Natalie. Josie popped the lunchbox open, shaking off the memory. "Thanks, man. I'm starving." She settled in a corner to eat, her mind drifting to that book. 'Acupuncture? That could work,' she thought. If she remembered right, it was the least popular major at med school. Jobs in Traditional Medicine were rare, and acupuncturists? Basically nonexistent. Nobody picked it. But that was the perk: it was easier to get into, and with so few students, the professors had time to actually teach. She could get plenty of one-on-one help. She'd have to check it out. "Yo, you zoning out?" Kyle wandered over. "I called you, like, twice." Josie flashed a sheepish grin. "Just thinking about earlier. You know that guy I bumped into?" "What, Sean Reedshaw?" Kyle's face twisted like he'd bitten a lemon. Josie blinked. "That's Sean Reedshaw?" Rumor had it their department had two hotshots: Aiden, the golden boy who lit up the room, and Sean, the dark, mysterious type, like a storm cloud one couldn't pin down. "He's got major beef with Aiden and some seriously bad vibes. Steer clear," Kyle warned, giving her a look. 4.Chapter 4 Playing Dirty Josie smirked to herself. If this guy was on Aiden's bad side, she was definitely gonna get to know him better. She chucked her lunchbox into the trash and headed off to dig up some books on acupuncture. Kyle caught her ignoring him, and his jaw tightened. "Hey, you hear me? You already ticked Aiden off this morning. Don't go making it worse." Josie almost laughed, but it was a cold, bitter one in her head. In her old life, she'd jumped through hoops to keep them happy, always putting their feelings first. Not anymore. She was done playing nice—she was looking out for herself now. "Thanks for handling the stuff, Kyle," she said, voice icy, barely glancing at Kyle before heading upstairs. Her chilly vibe threw Kyle off. He'd known Josie forever, and she'd never hit him with that look. Kyle's mind spun. 'Is she still mad about this morning when we pushed her to apologize? I thought Aiden's feelings were her top priority. I was just trying to help—why's she acting like I'm the jerk?' Kyle scoffed and stormed out of the archive room. When Josie came back down with her book, the empty room didn't surprise her. Kyle was selfish to the core. His family name and skills weren't enough to keep him in the team's good books, so he stuck to Aiden like glue, always sucking up. Back when Josie was the team's favorite, Aiden had a soft spot for her. Kyle milked it, using her to talk him up to Aiden. Even when a lab disaster nearly got him kicked out, Josie had begged Aiden and David to give him another shot. But when Natalie framed her and the team turned on her, who was the first to stab her in the back? Kyle. Josie let out a sharp, mocking chuckle. 'What, I give him the cold shoulder once, and he just bolts? 'Wait till I shove that diploma in his face, every backstab he pulled returned, one by one. What's he gonna do then?' She pushed Kyle out of her mind, left the archive room, and headed to her dorm, missing the cold, angry eyes watching her from the shadows. Kyle figured Josie would blow up his phone, begging him to come back and help. The archive room was a mess of papers—no way she could sort it alone. But she didn't call. Didn't even stay. She just walked out. That wasn't the Josie he knew. 'Is this who she really is?' he wondered, doubt creeping in. 'Was that sweet, go-along girl just a front all this time?' Kyle's face lit up like he'd cracked a big secret. Heading to the guys' dorm, he muttered, "Josie, you're done. I'm gonna expose you and make things right for Natalie." Aiden had pushed for Josie to apologize to Natalie, showing who he really cared about. Kyle thought If he could get on Natalie's good side, Aiden would be stoked. He'd hoped Josie would suck it up and say sorry to Aiden—then he'd have two people hyping him up to the boss. 'But nope, Josie's gotta be stubborn and blow me off,' he thought. 'Well, can't say I didn't try!' Josie bolted back to her dorm, stuffed her laptop into her backpack, and headed for the door. Before darting out, she shot her roommate a look. "Hey, if anyone comes asking for me, just say I'm sick and dragged myself to the hospital, okay?" And yeah, she did head to the hospital. Aloville's only traditional medicine hospital, linked to their med school, was her spot. Josie slung her bag over her shoulder and made a beeline for the acupuncture wing. She'd checked the school's website and knew Delilah Wilcourt, the acupuncture rockstar, was running rounds today. She hadn't even hit the department when she spotted Delilah down the hall. "Professor Wilcourt!" Josie called, but before she could say more, Delilah cut in. "You're late! Hurry up, get changed, and meet me in the treatment room, stat," she said. Josie didn't bother explaining. She just followed Delilah, who was already charging ahead. Rumor had it, acupuncture training got real hands-on later on. For local interns, Delilah led rounds, teaching while treating patients. In the changing room, Josie noticed it was way quieter than David's chaotic sessions, where a herd of students trailed him. Here, it was just Delilah and three interns—Josie, one guy, and one other girl. Super chill setup. "Get the tools ready," Delilah said, slapping on a mask and glancing at them. Josie had no idea what to do, so she stuck close to the other girl, Claire—she'd glimpsed her name on her scrubs' badge while changing. "First timer?" Claire asked, passing Josie some silver needles to sterilize. "Who sent you? Nobody mentioned a new intern. What's your name?" Josie flicked her eyes toward Mu, who was distracted. She exhaled softly. "Josie Pearson." "Josie?" Claire squinted. "Sounds familiar. We met before?" Josie's stomach flipped. "Nah, acupuncture's my second major. First time here. Came for Professor Wilcourt's rep. Pretty sure we're strangers." "Huh, I could've sworn—" Claire started, but Delilah's voice sliced through. "Quit yapping!" Delilah grabbed the sterilized needles and headed for the treatment room. "Move it! Today's patient's got a tough case, and this'll take a while. Pay attention." Claire made a face behind Delilah's back, then tugged Josie's arm and whispered, "Don't worry, Professor Wilcourt's all bark. She's the coolest prof here. "You picked a good gig—barely anyone does acupuncture, so internships are wide open. Professor Wilcourt basically holds your hand. "Finish your internship, and you're set to see patients solo. Graduate, get hired, and bam—full physician status. "No assistant grunt work like other specialties. Plus, better pay and an easy workload." "Hmph," a snarky scoff interrupted. It was the guy, mask on, face hidden, no badge. Josie had no clue who he was. "No need to oversell it," he said, eyeing Josie. "School didn't mention new interns. "You sure you're in the right place? If you're lost, you can still bail—Professor Wilcourt won't care." "Sean, you serious?" Claire hissed, yanking his arm. Josie froze. 'So he's Sean. No way I am leaving now.' Before she could speak, Delilah's voice rang out. "Sean's got a point. If you're in the wrong spot, walk now, and I won't blink. But if you stay and flunk the assessment later, don't expect me to go soft." 5.Chapter 5 The Hands-On Test Josie was dead-set on switching majors, and acupuncture was her golden ticket—the one field she was sure she could nail and graduate from. No way was she letting this slip away. She gritted her teeth and said, "I'm not in the wrong place. I'm serious—I came here specifically to learn acupuncture!" "Alright, come on in," Delilah said, giving her a quick once-over. Her mask hid any hint of what she was thinking, leaving Josie wondering if the professor believed her or was just humoring her. Nervous as hell, Josie stepped into the treatment room. She figured switching majors wouldn't be that big a deal. Her pharmacology and anatomy classes had given her a decent foundation. She wasn't totally clueless. Wrong. The moment Delilah started teaching, Josie realized she'd been way too confident. Her mind was suddenly flooded with a ton of questions. 'What's a trigger point? Where's this spleen meridian at? 'Why light incense before the needles go in? And hold on—why's it gotta be super slow and careful when you're poking those acupuncture spots? Man, seriously?' There was a mountain of info to memorize and a ton of details to keep straight. One measly hour felt like a week-long crash course—the kind where one couldn't jot down notes and there was a pop quiz at the end. By the time Delilah finished, Josie was sweating bullets. She was terrified of flunking the test and blowing her chance to impress Delilah. If she screwed this up, her dream of switching majors was dead in the water. "So," Delilah said, turning to her as they stepped out of the treatment room, "how much did you pick up?" Claire, catching Josie's jitters, jumped in. "Hey, no pressure. Just spill what you remember. "Wilcourt's not gonna bite your head off. That's a lot to take in all at once." Josie's heart swelled. She knew Claire was right—Delilah had gone into way more detail than she would've if Josie hadn't been there. Claire and Sean, both acupuncture majors, already knew this stuff like the back of their hands. Her gut had been right about Delilah. Unlike David, who'd snap at her for blinking wrong, Delilah was patient as a saint during hands-on lessons. A flicker of warmth hit Josie—she wasn't about to let them down. "You used two needle sets," she said, steadying her voice. "The first set hit the trigger point, Large Intestine 4, Governing Vessel 20, Stomach 40, Heart 7, Large Intestine 11, Stomach 44, Liver 3, Stomach 36, Spleen 9, and Governing Vessel 26. "The second set targeted Kidney 3, Heart 7, Kidney 7, Large Intestine 11, Conception Vessel 4, Large Intestine 4, Conception Vessel 6, and Stomach 28." She took a breath and added, "The calming incense you lit had stuff like patchouli, cinnamon bark, mugwort, lavender, and sandalwood—at least, that's what I could make out." Josie glanced nervously at Professor Wilcourt. "Did I get that right?" Wilcourt's eyebrow shot up. "You smelled the ingredients in the incense? Seriously?" Josie nodded firmly. "Yeah. I took an herbal medicine elective my sophomore year. I crammed like crazy for a pharmacology contest to win some cash. Really needed it." Claire's face lit up. "Hold up, that's why your name rang a bell! You're the one who beat me out for first place and snagged that fifteen-grand prize, right?" Josie winced. "Yeah, sorry about that, Claire. I was desperate for the money." "Sorry for what?" Claire laughed, brushing it off. "You won it fair and square. What, you think I'm gonna mug you for it or something?" She gave Josie a playful nudge, clearly not holding a grudge. Delilah let out a low whistle. "Losing and still bragging? If I were you, I'd keep that on the down-low." "For real," Sean said, peeling off his mask and throwing Claire a flat stare. "Talk about embarrassing." "Hey, watch it, you—" Claire started, but Delilah cut her off. "Alright, you two, go grab some food. I need a quick chat with Ms. Pearson here." Josie's spine stiffened. So now she knew Delilah had overheard everything and knew she wasn't some official intern sent by the school. Claire caught her panic and leaned in with a grin. "Chill, girl. If you really wanna learn, just lay it on thick with her. Maybe flash those puppy-dog eyes—you're cute enough to pull it off. She'll totally cave." With a cheeky wink, she let Sean drag her off. The room went silent, just Josie and Delilah left, her nerves buzzing like a live wire. "Professor, I gotta level with you," Josie said, fidgeting with her sleeve. "I wasn't straight-up earlier. I'm not an intern sent by the school, and I've never taken your class." Delilah raised an eyebrow, motioning to a chair. "Didn't you take pharmacology as an elective? That's my course, so you've kinda heard me teach." "Relax, kid," Delilah said with a half-smirk. "My program's not exactly swamped with fans. If you're serious about learning, I'm game to teach. But that pharmacology contest you brought up? That was two years ago." She leaned back, eyeing Josie. "You were a sophomore then, so… senior now, right? About to graduate? Got an internship lined up?" Josie nodded, her stomach in knots. "Yeah, but I tanked the exam for Professor Lawson's research team. "That means scrambling for a new internship, and that's not why I picked this field. I'd rather switch to something I can crush than settle." Delilah gave a slow nod, her face hard to read. "David's the big shot in his field, no doubt. If you can't join his crew, breaking out's gonna be tough." "But acupuncture? It's not some side hustle you just pick up. Why do you think you'll kill it here?" Her voice had an edge, a spark of challenge in her eyes. Josie knew she was on thin ice. One slip, and she'd tank her shot at acupuncture and piss off Delilah. She took a deep breath, voice steady. "I'm not saying I'll rule your field overnight. But I've checked my electives, and if I'm switching, acupuncture's my best bet. "I've looked into traditional medicine—it's blowing up here. If I go all in, I can make waves, maybe even outshine Professor Lawson's crew." Delilah snorted, her stern look cracking into a grin. "Smooth talker, huh? You saying I'm better than Professor Lawson?" She chuckled, then got serious. "My program's the underdog on campus. Barely anyone sticks it out to a PhD. Professor Lawson's classes? Kids fight like hell for a spot. "His team? You graduate, you're golden—straight to top research gigs. "You didn't make Professor Lawson's cut this time, but you could try again. Switching majors, though? No going back. You sure about this?" Josie didn't waver. "Dead sure. Acupuncture's niche, but that's why it's easier to stand out. You're as big a deal as Professor Lawson in your field, Professor Wilcourt. I'm betting on this." Delilah studied her for a beat, then shrugged. "Alright, you can stay—but you gotta ace the final exam this semester. Only then will I sign your internship papers." Josie exhaled, relief hitting her hard. But before she could relax, Delilah added, "You nailed those acupuncture techniques you memorized. "Shows you've got a sharp brain. So, just passing the exam? Not enough. You gotta crush it." Josie's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Deal. Can I start shadowing you now?" 6.Chapter 6 The Right Place Claire lit up brighter than a Christmas tree the moment she heard Josie was staying—way happier than Josie herself. "Thank god. I finally got company. You have no idea." Claire tugged her toward the hospital's temp dorms. "Staring down Sean's ice-queen act every day was driving me batshit. "We're crashing at the hospital's intern housing—got the whole room to myself. Metal bunk bed, bedding's all set. I've got fresh sheets and a duvet cover stashed away—we'll swap 'em out once we get there. "For these two days, Professor Wilcourt has consultations. We're following her around to gain some experience. If you don't have classes, you can stick around for a few more days. "Oh, right, what's your major? Have you finished your courses? Why not intern over there?" Claire's questions reminded Josie of Professor Lawson and her teammates, but she wasn't upset about it; instead, she felt happy about taking this step. Second go-round at life, she'd staked everything to dodge last life's tragedy. Changing majors? That was her first real move to swerve clear of all that. Claire's warmth and easygoing nature helped ease Josie's awkwardness. "I'm majoring in cytology under Professor David Lawson. And he has plenty of interns," she replied. Even though Claire was enthusiastic, she knew how to keep things appropriate and didn't pry further. "You're right; it's better to be a main player here rather than an invisible one in Professor Lawson's team. "With fewer students under Professor Wilcourt, each one gets more attention. You came to the right place." "Yeah." Josie smiled, feeling inexplicably cheerful. As they talked, they arrived at the dormitory. After helping her settle in, Claire pulled her off to eat. They went to the hospital cafeteria. On their way there, Josie messaged her roommate Adeline, telling her that she'd be staying at the hospital for a couple of days. Just as her thumb hovered over the power button, the screen blazed to life: Aiden Brown! Josie's pretty eyes didn't even flicker at the name. Dead calm, she hit mute and then tossed the phone back into her purse like yesterday's trash. "Why aren't you answering?" Claire glanced at her. Josie smiled. "It's nothing important. Let's go eat." Compared to eating, Aiden was totally irrelevant. ***** Underneath the girls' dormitory building at Aloville Medical School, Aiden watched his darkening screen with a frown. "She didn't answer!" "Josie is getting more disrespectful by the day! She doesn't even pick up your calls now! What does she think she's doing?" Kyle grumbled angrily, "Doesn't she think we'd still try to make amends after how she treated Natalie?" "Kyle, please hold your tongue," Vincent said irritably. "Josie isn't some backstabber! She owned up to Natalie and took her lumps already. Don't drag her like this." Kyle snapped, "My fault now? This afternoon, I hauled my ass to the archives to help. All I said was 'Just apologize to Aiden.' "Next thing I know, she blew me off and stormed out. Left the archives a total mess. "Wouldn't have dragged you all here if I wasn't terrified she'd get penalized again. And now? Screening calls—unbelievable!" Kyle's words slammed a thick silence over the others. Their faces soured like milk left out, blame for Josie already brewing. "I'll call her roommates." Jaden took out his phone. The call ended quickly. He looked at Kyle with a serious face. "You said Josie left because she was mad at you. But didn't you notice that she's sick?" "What happened?" Aiden's original dark expression softened slightly. Jaden sighed. "Her roommate said she went straight to the hospital after coming back this afternoon. She seems to be admitted and won't be able to come back soon." "Could it be fake? When I saw her this afternoon, she seemed fine." Kyle didn't believe it. Vincent glared at him. "Then would she need to bribe a doctor into admitting her for two days?" "Who knows if she's really in the hospital? Otherwise, why wouldn't she even answer calls?" Kyle snapped. Aiden shot a glance at the others. "Enough, all of you. Josie has always been frugal and doesn't have many friends in Aloville. If she weren't hospitalized, she would have been back at school by now." "Jaden, go find out which hospital she's in so we can visit her. How did she suddenly get sick?" Just as Jaden was about to leave, Gavin pulled him back. "Jaden, remember we promised to have dinner with Natalie tonight? She just got back to campus and was in a fragile state. "The professor said she can't handle any more stress. If we all go visit Josie—" Before he could finish, Aiden interrupted, "You're right; we can't break our promise to Natalie. Let's put Josie on hold for now. "She knows how to take care of herself and probably doesn't need us worrying too much." When Vincent heard this, his expression darkened. "But what about the archives? With her hospitalized, who knows when those files will be sorted? Professor Lawson might be angry." "She already upset the professor once; if this delays our project further, she's going to be kicked off the team." Aiden pressed his temples. "These years working together have built up trust between us; I don't want her to leave now. We'll all go help out at the archives." Hearing this, the others exchanged looks and all agreed accordingly. ***** Josie didn't know that the job that gave her a stomach problem in her previous life was now taken care of by Aiden and others. She had just finished dinner with Claire and was back at her dorm. Delilah assigned them homework during dinner, and as soon as they got back, Claire grabbed her laptop and hadn't said a word since. Josie wasn't much of a talker anyway. After opening her laptop, she didn't rush to do the homework but wrote an email to quit David's research team first. In her previous life, after getting disciplined, she did a lot to win back the seniors and David's trust. Eventually, they agreed to let her join the team. Once in, her internship file fell into David's hands. With the disciplinary record, she had to bend over backward to please him for a good job after graduation. She did all the dirtiest and most tiring work in the team and even broke through several research bottlenecks. But in the end, her evaluation only said: [Quiet and not very professional; suitable for administrative and basic research; not fit for academic research!] Seeing this, she went to confront David, who replied, "I can't allow someone with such poor morals into an academic lab; I have to be responsible for the entire medical field." Such high-minded words. But Josie was naive back then. She thought David misunderstood her and tried hard to change his impression, doing thankless tasks until they sent her to prison. Now, she wouldn't give David another chance to control her. Her internship report would be perfect, and the evaluation must be fair and true. With this thought, Josie hit Enter and sent the email to David. At that moment, it felt like a weight was lifted off her chest.

Grace Winston was the aloof, imposter heiress, an "ice queen" everyone adored but could never touch. When the Hawthorne family demanded she marry Matthew, the "maniac" crown prince whose reputation was so blackened that people avoided him like the plague, my mother pleaded in the living room with tear-filled eyes, "Grace is so frail and introverted. "Besides, she isn't even my own flesh and blood; she's hardly a match for Matthew. But my biological daughter is a different story. "Since we found her, she's been learning the ropes of the business. She's sharp and dependable. It's better to let her marry him. She'll definitely be able to help Matthew out in the future." And so, I, the real daughter, was sent to take the place for the fake one, marrying the man everyone feared. Back then, the Hawthornes were hanging by a thread, surrounded by enemies. My mother would rather send me straight into the storm than let her precious "ice queen" take even the slightest risk. After the wedding, I stood by Matthew through thick and thin, navigating the cutthroat world of corporate warfare. I cleared his path and helped him transform from a "madman" everyone loathed into a tycoon who held the world in his hands. I thought I had finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel. I never imagined that once Matthew reached the pinnacle of success, he would fall head over heels at a party for the fake heiress, who was now a single mother. While I was carrying his child, I had to watch him shower the woman who stole my life with tenderness and money. Everyone praised them as a match made in heaven, the "ice queen" and her devoted protector. When I confronted Grace, she looked down her nose at me. "Matthew and I are soulmates. Cece, where is your sense of grace? Don't be so petty." Eventually, Matthew asked for a divorce for her sake. I accepted it without a word. Since everyone believed they were the perfect match, I wanted to see for myself that without me, the wife who went through hell and back to support him for five years, could his empire remain as solid as a rock? And could Grace keep living her respectable life? ***** Inside the study of Hawthorne Manor, I looked at the two people snuggled together on the sofa across from me. Matthew had his arm around Grace, their intimacy cutting like a knife. Grace was dressed in the latest off-white Chanel suit, her makeup so flawless that every single eyelash looked meticulously placed. She kept her eyes cast down, a faint, fleeting smile playing on her lips. That cold, "lofty" vibe of hers made it seem like she was the only noble protagonist in this entire drama. When Matthew looked at her, his eyes held a tenderness I had never seen before. Five years had passed. In our five years of marriage, I had never witnessed such a look in his eyes. The air in the room was so thick it was hard to breathe. I knew there was no running away today. He wanted a divorce, and it was all for Grace. "Celia." Matthew finally spoke, his tone still carrying that rebellious edge but laced with a self-important kind of "devotion." "Let's get a divorce." He paused, tightening his grip around Grace. "I've fallen in love with Grace. We are soulmates." At just the right moment, Grace lifted her eyes, her expertly lined eyes brimming with innocence and vulnerability. She bit her lower lip softly, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Cece, I'm so sorry... I know this is sudden. But when it comes to feelings, you just can't help who you love." I looked at her face. This was a face I had known for 20 years. From the day I was brought back to the Winston family at 16, I knew that in Evelyn's heart, I would never measure up to the "fake" daughter she had raised for 16 years. Grace was delicate. Grace was reserved. Grace wasn't her biological child, so Evelyn couldn't bear to see her suffer even the slightest injustice. That was why five years ago, when the Hawthorne family demanded Grace marry Matthew, the "maniac" heir with a reputation so foul everyone steered clear of him, Evelyn had pleaded with them in the living room, her eyes red from crying. "Gracie is too frail and introverted. How could she possibly be a match for Matthew? But my own daughter is a different story. "Since Celia came back to us, she's been learning the ropes of the business. She's sharp and tough as nails. Why not let her marry him instead? I'm sure she'll be a huge help to Matthew in the future." So, I became the "smart and tough" stand-in and married into the crumbling Hawthorne family. I stood by Matthew as we navigated the brutal world of business, helping him clear one obstacle after another. I transformed him from a social pariah into the undisputed king of the Hawthorne empire. I thought I had finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel. I thought five years of thick and thin meant something. But I never expected that after he made it big, he would fall head over heels for Grace, now a single mother, at last month's charity gala. At that moment, I was three months pregnant with his child. I hadn't even had the chance to tell him yet. My heart felt like it was being sliced open slowly with a dull knife, the pain causing my fingertips to tingle. Yet, my face showed no emotion. After five years, I had long learned to bury my feelings deep within. "Soulmates?" I heard my own voice. It was terrifyingly calm. "Matthew, we've been married for five years. I'm pregnant with your child. And this is how you treat me?" Matthew frowned. He looked as if I had brought up a major buzzkill. Grace gently tugged at his sleeve, her tone softening even more. "Matthew, don't pressure Cece. It's just... we happened so fast; she's probably in shock. But you can't force matters of the heart." I looked at her "holier-than-thou" expression and suddenly felt like laughing. "Fine, let's get a divorce." I pulled the paperwork I'd already prepared from my bag and slid it across the coffee table. "Legally, we split everything down the middle. "Thirty percent of Hawthorne Holdings, half of Hawthorne Manor, thirteen properties, six cars, and 160 million in liquid assets. I want my half."

Chapter 1 Traveling Back To The Past In Ashborn City, Brimwick, a group of maids of the Barone family was whispering among themselves. "What the hell is wrong with Gianna? She pushed Nicole down the stairs at a time like this? Now we're all stuck here dealing with the mess." "Today is Nicole's big party. Huge deal. I heard a lot of big names showed up." "They said Nicole's arm was broken, and she still has to greet guests with it in a cast. That's honestly sad. You think Gianna did it out of jealousy?" "Jealous? That's way past jealousy. That was cruel. They're sisters. Nicole just got back into the family. How could Gianna do something like that?" "If Gianna had even half of Nicole's kindness, none of this would've happened." ***** In the dark basement, a girl of about seventeen lay curled up in the corner. She hadn't eaten or had any water all day. Her hair was messy, and five clear finger marks were still stamped across her face. Her eyes were shut tight, her brows drawn together. Her long lashes trembled from time to time, as if she were trapped in an uneasy dream. Suddenly, she jolted awake. Her eyes were filled with fear, which slowly turned into confusion. 'Wasn't I dead?' Gianna Barone wondered. Her hand instinctively went to her neck. She could still remember the cold blade piercing her skin, the sharp pain, and the indifferent looks from her family. Slowly, she scanned her surroundings. She only saw a dim, cramped room and a tightly shut door. From outside came faint voices of the maids complaining, music drifting down from upstairs, and the constant shuffle of footsteps. A familiar anger surged up from deep inside her. Mixed with fear and hunger, it made her body tremble uncontrollably. Then she remembered. This was the basement of their house. And today was a party her family held for her twin sister, Nicole Barone, for finally reuniting with them. 'Wait, did I... travel back?' Gianna wondered. If nothing had happened yesterday, she should have been upstairs right now, standing with them at the event. But yesterday afternoon, the moment she Gianna into Nicole on the stairs, Nicole had suddenly fallen down. It was deliberate and ruthless. To stop Gianna from showing up and stealing attention, Nicole didn't hesitate to hurt herself. And with so many guests today, it was the perfect chance to completely ruin Gianna's reputation. In her previous life, before turning seventeen, Gianna had been sheltered and naive, raised in comfort. She had never seen how ugly people could be. She had trusted too easily. She had even treated Nicole like a real sister. Someone like Gianna surely could never stand a chance against someone so scheming. Back then, Nicole's scream had thrown the whole house into chaos. And right after that came the accusations. Gianna tried to explain, "I didn't do it. It wasn't me." Nicole had fallen on her own when Gianna had still been a few feet away. But no one in the family listened to Gianna, except her eldest brother, Aaron Barone, who hadn't even come home yet. Sara Barone, her mother, snapped, "If I'd known you'd turn out this way, I would've sent you away long ago. Now, you're only going to embarrass us at tomorrow's party." Her third brother, Adam Barone, frowned, "She's always been this spoiled and hard to control. With so many guests tomorrow, what if she causes a scene?" As a public figure, image and reputation meant everything to him. Her second brother, Dylan Barone, spoke calmly, "If she acts up again tomorrow, give her a shot and put her to sleep." As a doctor, he had plenty of ways to keep someone quiet. Her fourth brother, Jeremy Barone, was even harsher. "We've all been too nice to her. Why not send her to a juvenile facility? Let her suffer a bit. Maybe then she'll learn her lesson." "Come on, she's your own sister. You really mean to ruin her future?" Sara said, her voice tightening. In the end, she still couldn't bring herself to go that far. "M-Mom... actually... sending her there... won't ruin her future," Nicole said between sobs. "It's a place to educate troubled teens. After some correction, she might stay on the right path later." Sara insisted, "No, I don't agree." Thankfully, at that time, Nicole had only been back for two months, and Sara hadn't completely lost her conscience. In the end, their father, Paul Barone, slapped Gianna hard across the face and ordered, "Lock her in the basement for three days. Don't give him any food or water." Before being dragged down, Gianna had looked at her family with pleading eyes. Not one of them helped her. All she caught was that so-called sister's faint, satisfied smile. In Gianna's previous life, Nicole had gotten exactly what she wanted. But this time, Gianna was determined to make them pay back double. Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the door. Then came the click of it opening. Just before the dizziness hit, Gianna dug her nails hard into her palm. The sharp pain cleared her mind instantly, and a mocking smile slowly formed on her lips. 'I've already died once. What is there left to be afraid of?' she thought. Before she turned seventeen, Gianna had been the only daughter in the family. She was smart and beautiful. Her parents had told her she was a gift from heaven, their precious treasure, and that would never change. Her four brothers had said she was the apple of their eye and that they would protect her forever. Those words still echoed in her ears. But everything that came after proved one thing that she had been the only one who believed them. In her past life, she had thought she wasn't good enough. She had tried to please them and win back the love they once gave her. In the end, she had been abandoned, torn apart, and killed. By then, whatever she owed them for raising her had been repaid. Whatever bond of family remained was completely gone. In this life, she would not hold back for anyone. She would live only for herself. As for the one who caused all of this, Nicole, Gianna would make sure she paid her price. Suddenly, she heard a set of deliberate footsteps approaching from a distance. Gianna looked up and saw a tall figure standing before her, looking composed and imposing. He spoke up, "Gianna, have you realized your mistake?" The man's gaze was deep and steady. He was good-looking, calm, and controlled. He was Gianna's eldest brother, Aaron, now the CEO of the Barone Group. Gianna's eyes rested on his face as she studied him carefully. At this point, they had not yet turned against each other because of Nicole. In his eyes, she could still catch a trace of concern and worry, subtle but real. It was something she had longed for in her previous life, yet she never truly had it. But now, she didn't care anymore. Seeing that Gianna remained silent, Aaron frowned. He said, "Do you even understand how serious this is? Nicole almost ended up disabled. Even today, at the very first party for her, she had to meet guests with her arm in a cast. "Nicole is kind. She doesn't hold it against you. Admit your mistake, and I'll talk to Dad and have you let out early." Gianna let out a cold laugh, thinking, 'In a cast? Wasn't that exactly what Nicole wanted? So every guest could see just how cruel I am.' Gianna had always hated Nicole, in both her previous life and this one. Back then, Gianna had been the only girl in the family and the youngest. Naturally, she had been favored. Even Dylan, who was usually serious and buried in his medical work, would only show a bit of warmth when he was with Gianna. But everything had changed the moment Nicole appeared. One day, their parents told her that her long-lost twin sister had been found. When Gianna first heard she had a sister, she had been overjoyed. She finally had someone her age. She had even carefully prepared a gift for Nicole. Nicole had grown up in a backward village with her adoptive parents and had been in poor health since she was young. When they first met, Nicole had been dark-skinned and frail-looking. She was dressed in plain clothes, looking quiet and timid, a little slow to respond. Yet no one in our family looked down on her. Instead, they were full of pity and eager to make it up to her. Their parents transferred Nicole into Gianna's school and even placed them in the same class, hoping Gianna would help Nicole adapt to the new life. Nicole struggled with her studies, so Gianna often took time to tutor her. When some classmates looked down on Nicole and made snide remarks, Gianna would step in and shut them down. Gianna even introduced Nicole to her own friends and shared many of her favorite things with her. But it didn't take long before Gianna began to sense that something was off. Chapter 2 Admitting Her Mistake Once, Nicole and Gianna were doing homework at home. Nicole got stuck on a math problem, while Gianna was in the middle of looking something up and asked Nicole to wait a bit. But instead of waiting, Nicole came to Aaron, who was working from home, eyes red, holding her notebook. She looked as if Gianna had given her a hard time. Gianna ended up getting scolded. Gianna also noticed that Nicole would look at her in a strange way from time to time. It was only later that she understood what that look meant. It was jealousy. Nicole couldn't keep up with school, while Gianna was at the top of the class. They were twins, but because of their different growing environments, to their classmates, they were worlds apart. No matter how expensive Nicole's clothes were, no matter how fine her jewelry was, when Nicole stood next to Gianna in simple everyday wear, Gianna was always the one who stood out. That kind of presence, built over years, along with her confidence, wasn't something Nicole could compare. After that, Nicole's little tricks only grew more frequent. She'd always play innocent and play the victim. In front of others, she was always obedient, soft-spoken, and pitiful. Her performance actually worked. Their parents and all four brothers started paying attention to Nicole all the time. In just two months, Gianna had somehow become known as spoiled, difficult, and even cruel. As someone who had grown up like a little princess, always cherished and protected by her family, Gianna couldn't help but feel bitter seeing their attention shift to someone else. To win that attention back, she had done a lot of things. But she could swear that she had never once tried to hurt Nicole. As for pushing Nicole down the stairs, that had been nothing more than a carefully staged act by Nicole right before the party. Memories played through Gianna's mind like a movie. Then she snapped back to reality and made her decision immediately. "I was wrong," she spoke, lowering her eyes, each word slow and clear. In her previous life, she had been locked here for three whole days without a drop of water because she refused to admit fault. It wasn't until the maid guarding her realized she had passed out that she was finally sent to the hospital. After that, she was left with chronic stomach pain that never fully went away, no matter how much medicine she took. But what she couldn't bear even more was that after she left the hospital, her reputation had been ruined. In Gianna's previous life, during the speech at the party, Nicole said she forgave Gianna, but between the lines, she made sure everyone knew that the injury to her arm had been caused by Gianna pushing her down the stairs. It should have been just a family matter. But the Barone family was powerful, and too many people were watching. With a little push from someone, the story spread onto the Ashborn forums and their campus forums, quickly climbing the trending charts. Before the party had even ended, it was known by almost the whole city. Meanwhile, Gianna knew nothing. She had been locked up for three days and then kept in the hospital for another week. By the time she was discharged, almost everyone believed she couldn't stand her newly returned sister and had a vicious heart. None of her brothers or her parents stepped forward to clarify anything for her. Adam even turned against her. He was a top actor and singer. When reporters asked him about it, he said, "Gianna made a mistake, so she should face the consequences. She should learn her lesson and make some changes." He hadn't just confirmed it. It was kicking her while she was already down. ***** "Did you really do it?" There was no attempt to hide the disappointment in Aaron's voice. "Fine. Since you're willing to admit it, I'll call Dad." "Thank you, Aaron." Gianna's voice remained calm and distant. Aaron paused, his hand holding the phone stopping midair. He realized something felt off about Gianna. He had only come back home last night and learned about the whole thing. He had gone down to the basement to talk to her once. She refused to admit anything and had cried, begging him to help find proof. Her words had sounded sincere, and he had thought there might be more to the story, so he agreed to help. But the results all pointed in the same direction. The security footage was unclear, but every servant claimed that Gianna pushed Nicole and caused her injury. Aaron had been deeply disappointed. He went back to tell Gianna everything, hoping she would admit her mistake. Even now, he could still remember the look on Gianna's face. She was full of disbelief, like her world had fallen apart. And yet, in just one day, her reaction had completely changed. Aaron wasn't sure if she was truly remorseful or not. He couldn't help but turn back to look at her. She stood with her head slightly lowered. Her thin figure almost blended into the darkness, her expression hidden in shadow. Something about her felt unfamiliar, and a faint unease tightened in Aaron's chest. The call he made went unanswered, so he said, "Wait here. I'll talk to Mom and Dad." He turned and strode away, his figure showing a trace of uncertainty. ***** At the same time, inside the Barone Villa, a grand party was underway. The hall was dazzling. Crystal chandeliers shone brilliantly overhead, priceless artwork lined the walls, and thick red carpet stretched across the floor. Guests dressed in formal attire held champagne glasses, chatting and laughing. The Barone family was among the top elites in Ashborn. The guests were all influential figures from different circles, gathered here to witness this special occasion. This party was a social stage. Not only did it mark Nicole's entry into high society, but it also showcased their family's power and influence. Aaron walked up the stairs, greeting guests along the way with ease. Wearing a smile, he looked composed and confident. "Aaron really lives up to being the Barone family's eldest son. You can tell just from the way he carries himself." "All the Barone kids are outstanding. Every single one of them is exceptional." "Exactly. Even the newly found Nicole is gentle, well-mannered, and sensible." "Unlike Gianna... What a shame." The teasing remarks drifted into Aaron's ears, and the smile on his face faded slightly. After all, the accident had only happened yesterday. He didn't know why everyone had already heard about it. Aaron knew too well that Gianna wasn't as bad as they made her sound, but he couldn't bring himself to correct others. He thought Gianna had always been a bit too bold. That probably gave people something to talk about. Aaron shook his head, thinking, 'Once things settle down, I must discipline her properly and help her regain everyone's approval.' He walked toward a room, where a girl's bright laughter could be heard from inside. His expression softened slightly as he stepped in. "Hey, Aaron, you're back." Nicole, in a white evening gown, hurried over to greet him. After two months of care, her complexion had improved a lot. With the help of a skilled makeup artist, Nicole now looked radiant. The party was about to begin. Paul and Sara were making final preparations with her. "Shouldn't you be out there greeting guests? What are you doing here?" Paul said, displeased to see Aaron showing up here right now. He sat upright in a chair, dressed in formal attire, his presence imposing without effort. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried pressure. "Be nice. Aaron must have something to say," Sara said, looking at her outstanding son with clear pride in her eyes. Aaron clenched his jaw slightly and said, "Gigi knows she was wrong. Please reconsider the punishment." Nicole froze for a brief moment, her fingers tightening around her dress. "Dad, since Gigi admits her mistake, please let her off this time. I feel better now."Her voice was soft, and her expression sincere. A hint of relief appeared in Sara's eyes, and she smiled, "Oh, sweetie, you're so thoughtful." Sara turned to Paul. "Look, both of them are pleading for Gigi, maybe..." Chapter 3 Plead For Gianna Paul looked at Nicole and said in a cold tone, "She hurt you like that, and you're still speaking up for her?" Nicole pressed her lips together and then gave a shy smile. "Gianna is childish. She was afraid I'd take away your love. That's why she went too far. "Honestly, I can understand her. I wouldn't want to share my wonderful parents and brothers with anyone either." Hearing that, Aaron was visibly moved. He glanced at her, his heart softening in a way that surprised even himself. Nicole seemed a little embarrassed. She paused and then continued, "Now that I'm back, we're family. As the older one, I should forgive Gianna. Mom, Dad, please don't blame her anymore, okay?" She mumbled the last sentence in a gentle tone, making it hard to hear. Sara looked at Nicole, her eyes full of tenderness. "If only Gianna were half as sensible as you." Nicole said with a small smile, "Trust me. I'll guide her properly from now on." Sara turned to Paul again. "Since Nicole is asking, let's let Gianna off this time." She sighed, "We really spoiled Gianna too much before. From now on, we'll have to be stricter." Paul was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Well, since Nicole has spoken for Gianna, Aaron, go bring her out." Aaron's face lit up. "Thank you, Dad." Paul added, his tone firm, "It's not done yet. Tell Gianna that though Nicole pleaded for her, it doesn't mean she's off the hook. She did the wrong thing. You need to keep an eye on her..." Paul hadn't even finished speaking before Nicole interrupted, "Dad, please don't punish Gianna anymore. Have her apologize to me in front of everyone. That'll be enough." Sara frowned slightly, thinking, 'Apologize in front of everyone? That would be a blow to Gianna's pride. 'And if word got out, it would damage her reputation even more. It wouldn't be easy to recover from that. 'But Gianna pushed Nicole down the stairs. Maybe a little lesson wouldn't hurt.' "Don't worry, Dad. I'll bring Gianna to apologize to Nicole later," Aaron said. Even if Paul hadn't asked, Aaron would have done the same. It was something Gianna owed Nicole. Aaron turned to leave, but Nicole called out to him, "Aaron, don't blame Gianna anymore, okay?" Aaron raised a hand and gently patted her head. "You'll be busy at the party today. Go get some rest." Nicole's cheeks flushed slightly. "Got it." After returning to the room, Sara handed Nicole a plate of pastries, her face full of concern. Sara said, "Eat something. You might skip dinner later." "Okay, Mom," Nicole replied with a smile. She loved this feeling of being surrounded and being the center of everyone's attention. She loved this feeling of being surrounded and being the center of everyone's attention. But the moment she turned her back to Paul and Sara, her expression turned cold. Nicole mused, 'Gianna has lived like a princess for 17 years. It's time she learns what it feels like to be a good-for-nothing. 'I'll be the real queen, and I won't share that treatment with anyone.' ***** Meanwhile, Gianna sat in the dim basement, her thoughts racing. In her previous life, everything had gone wrong. Whether it was her career or her personal life, it had all ended in tragedy. The turning point had been this very incident. She wanted to turn things around tonight, and the first step was to get solid evidence. Back then, when Aaron checked the security footage, it had clearly been tampered with. That meant the housekeeper in charge of surveillance had already been bought off by Nicole. But Alex, the housekeeper, always kept cloud backups on his phone. With how cautious he was, he would never risk losing important data. So the footage had to still exist. It didn't take long for Gianna to come up with a plan. Just then, a sliver of light cut through the darkness. "Gigi, I'm here to take you upstairs." Aaron stood in the doorway, backlit, his tone carrying a familiar warmth. Gianna narrowed her eyes, looking momentarily dazed. People said the eldest brother was like a father. Aaron, twelve years older than her, had always been a role mixed with a brother and a father. When she was little, their father had been busy with business, rarely around. Their mother had her hands full and couldn't give her much attention. It had been Aaron who filled that gap. He taught her how to write, how to do boxing, told her stories, and walked her to school. If anyone bullied her, he would always stand up for her. She respected and feared Paul, but with Aaron, it had always been pure trust and dependence. So when Gianna noticed Aaron's attention drifting away from her, she panicked. She had once tried everything to win it back. He said a girl should be reserved and graceful, so she stopped laughing loudly and stopped being carefree. He said she should focus on studying and training, so she poured all her time into those things. He said she should be independent, so she swallowed her feelings and endured everything alone. She tried to become the perfect version of the sister he wanted. Yet he told Nicole, "You're fine the way you are. Stay true to yourself." Gianna felt like it was ironic. She slowly got to her feet and walked toward Aaron, who stood in the light. Then, without a word, she passed right by him. This time, she wasn't going to chase after his standards anymore. Aaron froze for a second, thinking she was still upset. His brows drew together slightly. Then he let out a quiet sigh. He thought, 'Fine. I've spoiled her too much. From now on, I'll discipline her properly.' Gianna stepped out of the basement. The bright lights above made her eyes sting, and she paused for a moment. Squinting, she found her way and headed upstairs to her room. She didn't bother eating or drinking. Dragging her exhausted, starving body inside, she immediately took out her laptop. After entering a string of passwords, she broke into Alex's account. Gianna's hacking skills came from her previous life, when she had been pushed to the edge and learned from a computer prodigy to survive. As expected, the footage was still there, saved in a separate folder. Gianna copied the video onto her laptop and phone, grabbed a pocket projector, and headed downstairs. Aaron was still waiting and was talking on the phone. When he saw her, he frowned, "Why didn't you even change your clothes or fix yourself up?" Gianna didn't respond. She walked straight past him toward the hall. She scoffed inwardly, 'Fix myself up? For what? Change clothes? They've prepared a six-figure dress for Nicole tonight. I've been completely overlooked. 'No matter what I wear, I'll only be a background piece. I might as well stay like this. It will make the effect even better.' As she stepped into the hall, Gianna's best friends, Alicia Pearson and Monica Walton, rushed to her and kept asking her questions. Seeing them again, Gianna almost broke down. "Gigi, what happened to you? Why do you look like this?" "Gigi, someone was running their mouth, saying you pushed Nicole down the stairs yesterday. I almost got into a fight over it." "Your twin sister looks so evil. Did she do this to you?" Aaron couldn't hold it in anymore and snapped, "Watch your mouth. How could Nicole be evil?" Chapter 4 The Evidence Gianna patted her two friends on the shoulders, letting them know she was fine. "Thanks for believing me. Just wait. The truth's about to come out," said Gianna. Monica shot Aaron a glare and then turned back to Gianna. "Of course. Even if the whole world turns rotten, you wouldn't." Alicia nodded in agreement. In Gianna's previous life, Alicia and Monica had always stood by her side. They had helped her more than once. But Gianna had been stubborn, obsessed with winning back her family's love. In the end, she had paid for it with everything. Gianna was about to step forward when she paused, leaned in closer to them, and lowered her voice. "I'm sending you a video. Post it on Ashborn Daily and the campus forum for me." This time, Gianna would flip everything around and make Nicole be the target of scorn. Gianna straightened and continued walking toward the stage. Aaron hadn't caught what they said. He shot the two girls a warning look before following Gianna. Just then, another familiar voice reached Gianna. "How could you push Nicole down the stairs? She's your twin sister. Ever since she came back, you've been acting worse and worse. Make sure to apologize properly to her." It was Garrett Patterson, Gianna's childhood sweetheart and fiancé. Gianna ignored him and snapped, "Get lost." But Garrett kept going. Aaron frowned, shooting her a glare. "What's wrong with you? Apologize to Garrett." Gianna acted like she didn't hear a word. In her previous life, Garrett had always taken Nicole's side, criticizing Gianna at every turn, no different from her brothers. Looking back now, she thought she must have been out of her mind to ever like someone like him. Later, when the Patterson family saw her reputation fall apart, they had insisted on breaking off the engagement and arranged one with Nicole instead. And her parents had agreed without hesitation, not caring at all about her feelings or dignity. Her fourth brother, Jeremy, had even said, "You and Nicole aren't even in the same league. Anyone would choose her." Back then, Gianna had taken a long time to recover from that blow. Now, she saw it clearly. Her parents and brothers didn't love her anymore. Her engagement with Garrett had always been about family interests. Whoever the Patterson family chose, it made no difference to the Barone family. That was why her family didn't care. In this life, Gianna would cut ties with Garrett early. To her, if someone could be taken away so easily, then they were never worth keeping, no matter whether it was family, love, or friendship. ***** The party had reached its peak. When Paul and Sara walked into the center of the hall with their daughter, beautiful as a goddess out of a painting, the room erupted in thunderous applause. The atmosphere was warm and lively. Guests raised their glasses, offering congratulations one after another. Nicole stood there in a white evening gown, looking elegant and refined. The hem of her dress trailed across the floor, and the embroidered waist cinched her figure into a delicate curve. Paul and Sara each held one of her arms, their affection obvious. Her brothers stood nearby, poised and confident, chatting with guests with ease. Nicole spoke in a clear, gentle voice, "Thank you all for taking the time to come to my party..." She showed an apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry I have to meet you like this, but please don't blame Gianna. It's only natural she feels jealous. After all, my family all care about me so much..." Just then, Aaron walked in with Gianna. At once, all eyes shifted toward her. Everyone saw her messy hair, her worn expression, and her wrinkled clothes. The faint mark of a slap was still visible on her face. She didn't look like she belonged here. She looked like a stray dragged into a ballroom, or worse. Someone started to whisper, "Was she punished or something? The Barones are so cruel." "She's still their daughter. How could they treat her like that?" "Both of the two girls are their daughters. How can they play favorites?" "I heard she pushed Nicole down the stairs. She needs a good lesson." Paul's face darkened the moment he saw Gianna. "Do you know how messy you look? Couldn't you change your clothes or make yourself presentable? You don't even know how to greet people?" Sara and her boys looked at her with clear disapproval. "You came out like this? What were you thinking?" Adam couldn't help but scoff. He thought that showing up at a formal event like this was embarrassing. At that moment, someone in the crowd shouted, "Apologize!" Then more voices joined in. "Apologize!" The voices of the younger crowd merged into a wave, loud and overwhelming, echoing through the hall. When Nicole saw Gianna, she couldn't help but smirk and thought, 'Looking like this, and still trying to act calm and composed? It wouldn't last. She would be dragged all the way down soon.' "Gigi, you don't have to apologize. I forgive you," said Nicole. "No way. Wasn't it you who suggested a public apology in the first place?" Gianna's voice cut in, calm but sharp. "Besides, I haven't had a drop of water for thirty hours. "If I don't apologize soon, I might not make it out of that basement alive." Nicole retorted, "That's not what I meant, Gigi, you misunderstood..." Gianna didn't let her finish. She reached out and took the microphone. "You all want to hear my apology, right? Then listen carefully." Jeremy let out a faint chuckle. "You've really come to your senses, huh? That's great. Go on, let everyone see how sincere you are." He thought, 'She's really hypocritical. She acts differently when facing different people. Who knows if she's sincere or not?" Gianna shot him a brief glance. She ignored him and continued, "Yesterday, I really shouldn't have run into Nicole on the stairs. "Next time, I'll make sure to stay as far away from her as possible the second I see her. "What you might not know is that my dear sister is a master at staging accidents. "After this, I could lose my reputation and my future. Besides, if I refuse to apologize, I might not even walk out alive." She took a slow breath, as if that short speech had already drained her. Whispers began to spread through the crowd. "Is it really that serious?" "It could be." "She's still young. Maybe she can't handle the pressure." "What are you talking about?" Paul's voice cut in sharply, heavy with anger. At the same time, Gianna could feel the weight of her family's furious stares as well as Nicole's soft sobs. Gianna thought, 'This is only the beginning. Just keep listening.' Ignoring them, she looked out at the crowd. "Do you want to know the truth? Do you want to see how my sister pulled it off?" "The truth? Of course we do." Alicia's voice rang out first. After that, the younger crowd, who had been holding back, suddenly shouted, "Yeah, we want the truth." The older guests exchanged uneasy looks. Seeing Paul, Sara, and the Barone brothers' dark expressions, they sensed something was wrong. Some tried to quiet the younger ones, but their voices were drowned out by the rising noise. Nicole didn't know what Gianna was planning. But she wasn't worried because she trusted Alex. Without real evidence, no one would believe Gianna's words alone. "Gianna, it's just an apology. If you don't want to apologize, fine. Why make things more complicated?" Nicole said, frowning slightly, as if trying to keep things from escalating. Gianna didn't even look at Nicole. Instead, Gianna said, "Please look at the screen." She took out her phone and the projector. On the blank white wall beside them, the footage from yesterday appeared. Chapter 5 This Is Just The Beginning All eyes snapped to the wall the moment the video came on, even all the Barones. Onscreen, Gianna was walking upstairs. She looked up and saw Nicole coming down. They stopped, facing each other, about three feet apart. Then, out of nowhere, Nicole clutched her head and tumbled down the stairs. Gianna had slowed the footage way down. It was crystal clear. They could even see the look on Nicole's face. Everyone in the room was sharp, rich, and used to reading people. After seeing that, they could almost figure out the truth. Gianna was walking upstairs at that time, and they were facing each other. There was still distance between them. It was impossible for Gianna to push Nicole down. People started to discuss. "What was Paul thinking? That evidence is right there. He couldn't see it?" "So this was... some kind of pity play from their newly found daughter?" "If anyone's doing the pushing, it looks like Nicole had the better shot." "Man, what if Nicole tried to shove Gianna and slipped instead? She went straight down on her own." "Yeah, that's gotta be it. Didn't work out, so she flipped it and blamed Gianna." "What goes around comes around, right?" "And someone was just running their mouth earlier. Can't believe we bought that nonsense." "I didn't buy it for a second. I've known Gianna since she was a kid. Sure, she could be a little stubborn, but she's got a good heart. No way she'd do something like that." "She used to be such a bright, lively girl. Look what she's been turned into. Poor girl." "Pretty obvious Nicole has issues. You saw how fake she sounded just now." The crowd buzzed, voices overlapping, all turning against Nicole and calling Paul out for playing favorites. Meanwhile, the faces of Paul and his son darkened by the second. Nicole lay weak in Sara's arms, her face pale, lips trembling. "That's not what happened. That's not true," she murmured. Sara had been about to scold Nicole, but when she looked down and saw Nicole's teary, fragile face, the words died in her throat. Paul finally snapped back to himself. He looked at Gianna, his expression hard. "You had evidence, so why didn't you bring it out earlier?" As chairman, what he cared about most right now was controlling the room and keeping the damage down, not figuring out which daughter was right. One of the goals of this event had been to boost the company's reputation and lift the stock. "Then why did all of you take her word for it?" Gianna shot back. Besides, they punished her that hard. No one even cared about their family bond. They heard the rumors earlier. People were trashing her right in the hall, and her family did nothing to speak for her. Gianna knew how sensitive and sharp her family was. She didn't believe that they hadn't realized the real issue. What they had done could only mean one thing: They didn't care about Gianna anymore. Aaron looked at Gianna, his gaze conflicted. Jeremy stood there, completely lost. Gianna ignored them and turned back to the audience. "Hey, don't rush. We're just getting started. I've got more to show." "That's enough. How far are you gonna take this?" Adam snapped, his face tight. He barely recognized Gianna today. The Gianna he knew always tried to please them, always played nice. She'd never push back like this. Gianna said calmly, "I know you care a lot about reputation, Adam, but hiding the truth from your guests doesn't exactly look good either, does it?" She thought coldly, 'You've got the nerve to do all this but not own it? Fine. I'll lay it all out. Your reputation is not my problem.' Aaron stepped in, his voice softer. "I know you've been through a lot, Gigi. Let's talk it out in private, okay?" Aaron had already asked Alex to check the footage earlier, but the clip they got back had been blurry. He had even asked a few servants. Every single one of them said they saw Gianna push Nicole. "In private?" Gianna let out a short laugh. "Nicole blasted this all over the place and made me apologize in front of everyone. Why didn't you tell her to do it in private, huh?" She tapped her phone and pulled up another clip. Onscreen, Gianna still looked stunned, frozen in place. Before she could even react, Nicole screamed and pointed at Gianna, "She pushed me. Gianna shoved me down the stairs. I know she doesn't like me. I'll leave." The footage rolled on. One brother after another jumped in, each throwing words harsher than the last toward Gianna. Even Sara joined them. Not a single person believed Gianna. Not one of them checked what really happened. Gianna tried to explain, yet she got a hard slap from her father. He even locked her in the basement for three days without food or water. The video ended, and the room exploded with louder whispers. "What the hell was that? Paul is supposed to be sharp. He really got played that easily?" "What's wrong with the Barones? They all bought that girl's act?" "Yeah, I'm staying far away from that new girl. She's the type to set you up and cry. After all, she hurt herself to frame someone. That's awful." "What kind of family raises a kid like that? She's straight trouble." The comments got nastier by the second. Paul suddenly grabbed the mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry for the mess tonight. I've been too busy with work and didn't pay enough attention at home. That's on me. "This is a family matter, but I will look into what really happened, including the authenticity of the video my daughter presented. I'll make sure to give everyone a clear answer. "Tonight's been unpleasant. To make up for it, we'll be sending each guest a gift basket on your way out." He turned his head and shot Gianna a sharp warning look. He was indeed an old fox. With a few words, he cooled the room down. Nicole, who had looked like a ghost a second ago, suddenly seemed to come back to life. Paul never said who was right or wrong. He framed it as a family issue, which made everything seem smaller. After all, everyone knew family drama got messy. Then he mentioned being busy with work, which sounded reasonable enough. And the key part was that he questioned the video. Now people would start wondering if it was real or edited. Gianna thought, 'He's trying to twist this. I ain't let this happen. This is my only shot. If I don't clear things up now, the Barones may have more than enough power to bury the truth.' She lifted her chin slightly. "What my father said makes sense, but there's one thing I don't agree with." "Gianna, what are you trying to pull now?" Adam cut in, his voice sharp with warning. Gianna didn't even look at him and continued, "My video was auto-uploaded straight to my cloud from my phone. It's 100% real. "As for why I didn't show it earlier, you all saw what happened. I was getting accused. My family was blaming me. I was scared out of my mind. You really think I was thinking straight?" "Gianna, can you stop making a scene?" Jeremy snapped, clearly annoyed. Gianna ignored him again. "There's another way to prove the video is real." Her gaze swept across the room and landed on Alex, who was off to the side, still on his phone. She said, holding out her hand, "Alex, can I borrow your phone for a sec?"

Chapter 1 The New Nyla Sanders It was 1970. In the Sanders family's place in Seaview, Nyla Sanders pried her eyes open, a thick haze of pain clouding her senses. An unfamiliar scene came into focus. Walls painted a dull green halfway up, a window with faded yellow floral-print curtains, and beneath her, the unyielding hardness of a bare mattress. Nyla's brow furrowed as she glanced around, disoriented. "Huh? Wasn't I... blown up? Where is this?" Her voice was a ragged whisper. She tried to push herself up. At that moment, a torrent of foreign memories slammed into her consciousness like a rogue wave. They crashed against the shores of her own mind, twisting, merging, fighting for dominance. It took a long moment for the splitting headache to subside, leaving behind a new, settled layer of recollections that were now inextricably hers. "I... crossed over? Transmigrated into the 1970s? And into someone with my name?" Nyla's eyes widened, her lips parting in stunned disbelief. The original owner of this body was also named Nyla Sanders, the true biological daughter of the Sanders family in Seaview, lost to them due to a hospital mix-up at birth. For eighteen years, she had endured a hardscrabble life in a remote village up north. It was only six months ago that the Sanders family, using a keepsake from her infancy and a distinctive birthmark, had finally tracked her down and brought her home. The original owner thought her struggles were over, that she'd finally found the loving family she'd dreamed of. Instead, she discovered the home already had a carefully cultivated daughter who'd been raised in her place for eighteen years—Naomi Sanders. And now, just yesterday, the city had announced its quota for the national service assignment. The Sanders household had one slot. It should have been Naomi's turn. But the entire family—from her parents down to her brothers—had spoken with one voice: Nyla should go in Naomi's stead. Their reasoning was callously simple: Nyla was used to country life, hardened to its hardships, and knew how to contribute to the nation's progress. Naomi, having lived a life of relative comfort, simply couldn't handle the rigor. Therefore, it was only fitting for Nyla to take her place. Her father had even dangled a carrot, promising it would only be for three months; they'd find a way to bring her back. The original owner had believed him, had steeled herself for the assignment until she accidentally overheard the Sanders family's real conversation. They had only brought her back to fulfill a marriage contract arranged by her grandfather. When they heard the Foster family had fallen into disgrace and hadn't come forward to propose, their attitude toward her had turned cruel, and neglect, scorn, and sharp words became her daily bread. The only reason they hadn't thrown her out was this very assignment. They needed her to shield Naomi from hardship. The most devastating blow was that the Sanders had known for years that Naomi wasn't their biological child. They had also known roughly where their real daughter was languishing. If not for her potential usefulness, they never would have claimed her. Hearing this, the original owner's heart shattered. She had endured a lifetime of humiliation in the village and six months of silent suffering in this gilded cage, where she was constantly found wanting, criticized, punished, all to learn her own flesh and blood saw her only as a disposable tool, and it was too much for her. Seeing no place for herself in this world, she had chosen to end it all by suicide. The memory crystallized. Now, Nyla looked down at her left wrist. A vicious, jagged wound stared back, the edges rough as if sawed open by a crude blade. The blood had mostly clotted, but a rust-colored stain bloomed on the bedsheet beneath. It was a testament to a life bled away. A fierce, sympathetic pang shot through her chest. She realized it was the original owner's lingering bitterness. She let out a soft sigh. "Alright... you really did reach your limit, didn't you? Fine. Since I've transmigrated into your body, I am you now. Rest easy. I'll settle the score for every bit of suffering they caused you." As if hearing her vow, the constricting pain in her chest vanished, replaced by a strange lightness. Gritting her teeth against the weakness, Nyla managed to sit up and take proper stock of her surroundings. In the dim light, she spotted a half-empty glass of water and some bloodied cotton balls on the nightstand. Moving with painful slowness, she used her good right hand to pick up the glass. She trickled the cool water over the ugly wound, washing away some of the dried blood. Then, gripping a clean corner of the sheet between her teeth, she used her right hand to expertly wind and tie a makeshift bandage, which was a skill as natural as breathing from her past life. In her previous life as a top-tier mercenary, she was not only highly skilled in combat but also proficient in field medicine. This basic first aid was second nature. The true challenge was this body. It was pitifully weak, further drained by blood loss, making every motion a struggle. Once finished, Nyla slumped back against the headboard, breathing heavily. "This body is pathetically weak," she muttered, frustration coloring her tone. "How on earth did the original owner think she could handle a rural assignment?" She shook her head. "To think, a top mercenary of the 21st century ends up in the body of such a fragile, pitiful creature. How tragically ironic." Dizziness from blood loss swirled behind her eyes, and her throat felt parched. She glanced at the empty glass, licking her cracked lips. A desperate wish formed in her mind. 'If only I had some water... some food... even one of my old regeneration boosters...' The moment the thought crystallized, a searing, unnatural heat flared from her bandaged wrist, not the pain of the wound, but a deep, connection-like burn. Her vision blurred. The room twisted and melted away. When her senses cleared, she was no longer in the sparse bedroom. She stood in a grey, mist-bounded dimension about the size of a large studio. The air was still, the ground beneath her feet smooth and cool like polished stone. In the center, a small basin of crystal-clear water, no larger than a washbowl, lay perfectly still, emanating a faint, invigorating freshness. But what made Nyla's breath catch were the stacks of supplies neatly arranged beside the spring. There were medications, packaged food, sterile medical kits, packets of seeds, and even bars of gold. "This... this is..." Nyla whispered, her eyes wide with incredulous hope. "A pocket dimension? The legendary transmigrator's advantage?" Elation, sharp and sweet, cut through her physical misery. Cautiously, she cupped her hand, dipped it into the spring, and brought the water to her lips. It was like drinking liquid vitality. A warm current flowed through her, seeming to cleanse and energize every fiber of her being. A soft, involuntary sigh of relief escaped her. The crushing weakness and fatigue evaporated, replaced by an alertness she hadn't felt since her arrival. Suddenly remembering, Nyla hastily unwound the crude bandage. The angry, jagged gash was gone. In its place was smooth, unbroken skin, as if the wound had never existed. "Incredible," she breathed, heart soaring. "Just like in the stories, this Elixir Pool can heal. With this pocket dimension... in this era of scarcity... I can not only survive, I can thrive." Plans for a comfortable, secure life began to form. Her previous existence had been nothing but hardship and violence. This second chance was her opportunity for peace, for enjoyment. The times might be lean for everyone else, but she had a secret edge. She could eat well, live well. The thought alone was intoxicating. As Nyla focused her will, a packaged sandwich appeared in her hand. She tore it open and devoured it, the simple food replenishing her strength with satisfying speed. Patting her stomach, a genuine smile touched her lips for the first time. "Not bad. Maybe this life isn't so terrible after all." No more missions, no more constant vigilance, but just living. As for the national service assignment? So be it. A family like the Sanders was a curse, not a blessing. And those relatives who had mistreated the original owner in the village had an accounting coming too. She would ensure the original soul could truly rest in peace. Just then, the door to her room swung open without a knock. Naomi stepped in, her shiny new patent leather shoes clicking against the floorboards. She surveyed the room and its pale occupant with an air of undisguised superiority. Chapter 2 The Sanders Family's Accusations A sweet smile was plastered on Naomi's face, but the triumph and provocation in her eyes gave her away. "My dear sister," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she stepped closer, her tone thick with boastful pride. "You should finally understand how things stand now, shouldn't you?" "Biological daughter or not, in the hearts of Mom, Dad, and our brothers, I'm the one they cherish." Naomi couldn't help but smile proudly when she said that. Then, she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let me tell you another little secret. Actually, our family wasn't originally on the list for the national service assignment. "It was me. I submitted the application to the National Service Office myself. "Because I was absolutely certain Mom and Dad would never let their precious daughter suffer through such an ordeal." A soft, tinkling laugh escaped her. Nyla remained silent, merely lifting her gaze to meet Naomi's. Her eyes held none of the expected rage or despair. Instead, they were like calm, cold, and unnervingly unsettling. Naomi felt a prickle of unease under that stare. But the image of Nyla as a meek, submissive pushover was too deeply ingrained. Her confidence swiftly returned, laced with malice. "What's with that look?" Naomi sneered, the sweetness evaporating. "You don't like it? Want to hit me?" She deliberately leaned her face closer, her voice a mix of scorn and dare. "Go on, then. Hit me! I'm right here. I dare you—" The sharp, startling sound of a slap cut her off. Nyla's palm connected fiercely with the side of Naomi's smug face. The force of the blow was shocking. Naomi stumbled sideways, her ears ringing. A bright red handprint bloomed across her cheek, the skin already swelling, a burning pain radiating from the spot. She clutched her face, eyes wide with stunned disbelief as she stared at the cold-faced Nyla. "How... how dare you hit me?" "The deed is done. Asking 'how dare you' seems redundant," Nyla stated coolly, slowly retracting her hand. She then picked up a scrap of cloth from nearby and meticulously wiped her palm, her expression one of utter distaste. "You... you bitch!" Naomi shrieked, finally snapping out of her daze. Rage overtook her, burning away any pretense. With a shrill cry, she lunged at Nyla, fingers curled like claws. Nyla merely snorted. With a slight shift of her weight, she raised her foot and delivered a precise, sharp kick to the front of Naomi's leading knee. A thud was heard, and Naomi yelped in pain, her balance obliterated. She pitched forward, sprawling gracelessly onto the hard wooden floor. Her face made jarring contact, scraping against the planks. She came up sputtering dust, her lip instantly puffing up, a trickle of blood beginning to flow from one nostril. "Ah! Blood!" Naomi wailed, touching her nose and seeing crimson on her fingers. Hysteria took hold, and she let out a piercing, ragged scream. The commotion instantly drew the attention of the rest of the household. The sound of hurried, chaotic footsteps approached rapidly. First through the door was Pamela Sanders, Nyla's mother. Her eyes zeroed in on Naomi, who crumpled on the floor, cheek swollen and red, face smudged with grime, blood dripping from her nose. It was a picture of utter wretchedness. "Oh, my precious Naomi! What happened?" Pamela's heart clenched. She rushed over, her hands fluttering anxiously as she tried to help Naomi up. Close behind, Dale Sanders, Nyla's father, burst in, followed by his three sons: Zaid, Adrien, and Kody. They crowded into the small, cluttered room, their collective focus immediately captured by the sobbing figure on the floor. A chorus of concerned voices erupted. "Good Lord, what happened?" Dale barked, his gaze sweeping the room. "Naomi? Who did this to you?" Zaid demanded, his voice tight. "Mom, Dad, guys... it hurts so much... everywhere..." Naomi whimpered, burying her face in Pamela's shoulder, her body shuddering with theatrical sobs. Dale's furious eyes snapped to the only other person standing—Nyla, who appeared completely unscathed. Rage boiled up within him. "Was it you?" he thundered, jabbing a finger at Nyla. "Did you hit your sister?" Pamela's head shot up at his accusation. Her eyes, when they landed on Nyla, were venomous. "Who gave you the right to lay a hand on your sister? Get down on your knees and apologize to her this instant!" "Have you lost your mind, attacking Naomi?" Zaid's face darkened with anger as he glared at Nyla. Adrien, ever the pragmatist, quickly knelt beside Naomi, gently examining her injuries. After a moment, he frowned. "The cheek is badly swollen. The nose took a hit too. Needs an ice pack immediately." He paused, his scrutiny clinical. "Fortunately... no broken bones. No permanent damage to her face." He let out a short breath, then turned his icy stare on Nyla. "Have I not made it clear that Naomi is the treasure of this family? And you dared to hurt her?" Kody, embodying the authority of the police station where he worked, took a menacing step forward, looming over Nyla. His gaze was hawk-like and intimidating. "Apologize to Naomi. Now. Or I won't hesitate to handle this officially, sibling or not." Facing the wall of accusatory glares and heated words from her so-called family, Nyla remained eerily calm. A faint, cold laugh even escaped her lips. "Apologize? To her? She doesn't—" But Naomi's tearful voice interrupted, dripping with wounded virtue. "Mom, Dad, guys... please don't blame Nyla. It's my fault. I was being thoughtless." She sniffled pathetically. "I should have known better than to bother her. She's still so upset about taking my place in the national service assignment... I shouldn't have come." Pamela frowned, confused. "What do you mean, darling?" Naomi drew a shaky breath, playing the role of the misunderstood peacemaker perfectly. "I just came to see if she needed help getting her things in order before she leaves in a couple of days. I never meant to make her angry..." Her words were the final spark. The Sanders family's fury erupted into a blaze. "You ungrateful wretch!" Dale roared, veins bulging on his forehead. "Naomi shows you such kindness, and you repay her with violence?" Pamela's face twisted with bitterness and disappointment as she pointed a trembling finger at Nyla. "What sin did I commit to be cursed with a child so malicious?" "You are a profound disappointment," Zaid stated, his look one of pure disgust. Adrien let out a derisive snort. "I said it from the beginning. Our family only needed Naomi. There was no point in bringing her back." He shot a contemptuous glance at Nyla. "Look at the chaos she's brought in just six months. Nothing but trouble." Kody's tone was granite-hard, leaving no room for argument. "Apologize. Right now. Or I will personally see you spend a night in a holding cell at the station." As the Sanderses united in their condemnation, Naomi, her face still hidden against Pamela, peeked over at Nyla. A smug, victorious little smirk curled the corner of her mouth. Nyla met her gaze, then let her own cold eyes sweep over each member of the family. Her voice was clear and unwavering. "An apology is out of the question." "Fine! Have it your way, you disgrace!" Dale bellowed, his temper snapping. He spotted a stout piece of lumber, as thick as a man's forearm, leaning in a corner. Snatching it up, he brandished it at Nyla. "I'll give you one last chance. Get on your knees and beg Naomi's forgiveness, or I'll break your legs myself!" Chapter 3 Severing Ties Pamela and her sons watched Dale raise the club, making no move to stop Dale. Their eyes held not concern, but a grim satisfaction, as if this was a deserved punishment finally being delivered. Naomi's eyes sparkled with a fleeting thrill, though she hastily arranged her features into an expression of alarm. "Dad, no! Don't hit her!" she cried out, the plea ringing hollowly. Pamela patted Naomi's back soothingly while shooting a look of pure venom at Nyla. "Do you see that? Naomi is such a sweet, kind girl. After what you did to her, she is still pleading for you. Why can't you be more like your sister? Learn to be decent!" "Exactly," Adrien chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I always said nothing good comes from country folk." Zaid's cold gaze remained fixed on Nyla. "Apologize now. If Dad breaks your legs, I won't lift a finger to stop him." Nyla let out a short, derisive laugh. "Break my legs? He'll need the skill to match the threat." "You... you disgrace!" Dale found it hilarious. Furious, he began to laugh, a harsh, humorless sound. "You think because you're leaving for your assignment, I won't dare touch you?" Without another word, he swung the heavy wooden rod down toward Nyla's shoulder with a force meant to cripple. Nyla didn't flinch. She didn't move. At the last possible second, her hand shot up. Her fingers clamped around the descending rod with the force of a steel vise, stopping its momentum dead in the air. Dale felt a jarring shock travel up the wood and into his hands, numbing his palms. His forward charge was abruptly halted. He stared, dumbfounded, at Nyla, then tried to yank the rod back. It didn't budge an inch, as if fused to her grip. The sudden, impossible reversal left everyone in the room stunned into silence. 'Since when did this wretched girl possess such strength?' Pamela and the others wore identical masks of disbelief. Nyla, still holding the rod immobile, leveled an icy, blade-sharp glare at the shocked Dale. "Is that all you've got? And you talk of breaking bones?" With that, her wrist flexed. She didn't pull; she pushed. The motion was sharp and powerful. Dale, caught completely off guard, was shoved backward by the force transmitted through the rigid wood. He stumbled several clumsy steps, nearly falling, before Zaid and Kody rushed forward to steady him. The rod slipped from his nerveless fingers and clattered loudly to the floor. "You... you..." Dale sputtered, pointing a trembling finger at Nyla, rage and, more potently, a dawning fear choking his words. For a split second, he had seen a sense of chilling, lethal intent in her eyes. It turned his blood cold. That same intimidating aura had cowed the others. The room was quiet again, the earlier bluster gone. Naomi's smug smile had vanished, replaced by slack-jawed astonishment. Ignoring their stupefied expressions, Nyla bent down and picked up the fallen rod. She tested its weight in her hand, then let her gaze sweep over the uncertain group, finally landing on Naomi, whose face had gone pale. "Must feel good, having these fools fight your battles for you," Nyla stated, her voice flat. Naomi immediately adopted a mask of tremulous fear. "I... I don't... Nyla, please... don't hurt Mom and Dad. If you're angry, be angry with me..." she stammered, the picture of self-sacrificing virtue. "Oh? Is that so?" A cold smile touched Nyla's lips. "Well, if you're offering so generously, it would be rude of me to decline." She raised the rod high, aiming it threateningly at the cowering girl. "No—" Naomi shrieked, burying herself deeper into Pamela's arms. "Disgrace! Don't you dare!" Dale roared, trying to reclaim authority, but the bravado in his voice was thin and brittle. The rod hovered in the air. Nyla turned her cold stare on him. "Why wouldn't I dare? You all heard her. She asked for it." "You—" Dale felt his chest constrict, her logic leaving him speechless and dizzy with fury. A flicker of real fear passed through Pamela's eyes. She turned urgently to Kody. "Kody! Quick... she's lost her mind! Take her to the station. They can release her when it's time for her to leave for the assignment." "Yes, Mom," Kody responded, stepping forward with a trained authority. "Take one more step and see what happens," Nyla said, shifting the rod to point directly at him. Her eyes were winter frost. Kody faltered, an instinctive chill running down his spine. As a police officer, he faced dangerous individuals without fear. But this cold, detached version of his sister gave him pause. The absolute resolve and icy threat in her gaze left no doubt: if he tried to restrain her, she would fight back without hesitation. "I advise you to put that down!" he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "Resisting the law isn't a two-day affair. It's a prison sentence." The threat was standard, but his tone betrayed his uncertainty. "Resisting?" Nyla scoffed, her voice thick with mockery. "Kody, what law am I resisting? The law of favoritism? Or the law you just make up on the spot?" "How dare you!" Kody's face darkened. "Am I wrong?" Nyla shot back, her voice cold. "You want to arrest me? Fine. Under which statute of this country?" Kody stood straighter, invoking his professional role. "Assault. Attempted murder." Nyla's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Really? I must have missed that. "As an officer, shouldn't you know cases require evidence? Without it, I could sue you for slander for abusing your power to protect your precious sister. "One formal complaint, and that badge might not be yours for long." "You—" Kody was rendered speechless. Nyla was right. To detain her even briefly required paperwork, a report. Serious charges like assault or attempted murder wouldn't hold without concrete proof. Even with Naomi's testimony, a domestic dispute with no other witnesses or physical evidence would be shaky ground at best. It was, ultimately, a family matter. Seeing Kody so easily neutralized, Naomi cursed him inwardly as useless. Outwardly, she put on her most reasonable, forgiving face. "It's okay, Kody. Nyla didn't mean it. Let's just give her another chance." "You see? Naomi is still defending you," Pamela said to Nyla, her voice thick with disgust. "Why must you be so vicious?" "Vicious?" Nyla's retort was instantaneous. "And what are you? If I'm vicious, you're monsters!" "How dare—" Pamela spluttered. Nyla took a step forward, her presence filling the small room. "How dare I? Search your consciences. "From the moment I stepped into this house, have I known a single day of peace? "For six months, I've been your live-in maid. Cooking, cleaning, waiting on all of you hand and foot. And in return—" "Enough!" Dale bellowed, cutting her off. "How can you say such things? You've eaten our food, lived under our roof. "You'd call that a hard life? If not for us, you'd still be rotting in that village. "You're nothing but an ungrateful viper we took into our nest. I regret the day we brought you home!" Snorting, Nyla fired back without missing a beat. "The feeling is mutual. I regret ever coming here." "You... Fine. You regret it?" Dale trembled with rage. "Then from today, I have no daughter named Nyla." "Good. I was about to say the same." Nyla's reply was clear, firm, and held not a shred of hesitation or longing. "From this moment on, I sever all ties with you." Chapter 4 Change Of Legal Guardianship "What did you say? Sever ties with us?" Dale's face flushed a deep, mottled red, fury threatening to boil over. Mixed with the anger was a thread of disbelief. He wondered if he'd heard wrong. Nyla had been nothing but compliant since coming home. The idea that she would dare suggest cutting all connections was almost inconceivable. "That's right," Nyla stated, her posture straight, her gaze clear and unflinching. "From this day forward, I have nothing to do with the Sanders family." The original owner had slaved for this family for six months, giving her all, only to receive cruelty and neglect in return, a treatment that had ultimately driven her to death. Now, top-tier operative Nyla was there. It was impossible for her to endure the insults of these people. Moreover, with her skills and her pocket dimension, her path was destined to rise far above this petty household. Cutting ties now was the smart move. It would sever any future attempts to guilt-trip or manipulate her with false claims of family obligation. Dale's chest heaved. He took several deep, ragged breaths, struggling to suppress the violent urge to lash out again. The words ground out from between his clenched teeth. "Fine. Terrific. You said it yourself. From now on, don't you dare go around calling yourself my daughter!" At that, Nyla actually laughed, letting out a short, derisive sound. "You think you're some kind of celebrity? A big shot? 'Don't call yourself my daughter'? "Go take a walk down the street and shout your name. See how many people recognize Dale Sanders. "You're just a deputy manager at a textile mill. Don't flatter yourself." "How dare you!" Dale roared, his eyes bulging. "You are out of line!" Adrien shouted. "Who gave you the right to speak to Dad like that? Where are your manners?" Kody snapped immediately. Pamela's voice rose to a shrill pitch as she pointed a shaking finger. "You little ingrate! We wasted our kindness on you. Nothing but a snake we warmed against our breast!" Zaid's face was dark with agreement. "That's right. Dad, if she's set on this, let it be. The Sanders family has no need for a liar with a vicious streak and no moral character." Nyla's cutting remarks had stirred a hornet's nest. The Sanders family erupted again, a chorus of pointed fingers and angry accusations flying her way. Dale gave a stiff nod, sucking in another breath to quell the rage churning inside him. He fixed Nyla with a glare. "Fine. I hope you mean what you say." Nyla's expression was one of pure disdain. "Don't worry. I lost all desire to be associated with a bunch of blind, willfully ignorant people like you long ago." "Very well..." Dale's temple throbbed with a prominent vein, a clear sign he was at his limit. "In that case, pack your things and get out. Now. And never show your face here again." He turned to the others. "Let's go." He made to turn and lead his family away. "Wait." Nyla's voice, cool and clear, stopped them. Dale paused, then turned back. A cold, mocking smirk twisted his lips. "What's wrong? Regretting it already? It's too late for apologies." Nyla gave him an indifferent glance. "You flatter yourself. I just want my legal guardianship transferred off the Sanders family register before I leave." "What? Change your guardianship?" Dale's face showed genuine shock. He hadn't expected this request, and certainly not delivered so bluntly. "That's right," Nyla confirmed with a nod. "Absolutely not!" Dale refused without a second thought. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "Oh? So you go on and on about disowning me, telling me to get out, but what's this? Having second thoughts? Can't bear to let me go?" "You—" Dale was left speechless, his face flushing red. "Dale, if we're cutting ties, just give her the papers," Pamela said, her voice thick with disgust. "Better that than having her cling to our family name later." "Mom's right, Dad. Give it to her," Kody urged. Dale considered for a long moment, then let out a sharp breath and waved a hand in brusque agreement. "Fine! Since you insist, you'll get your wish. Just don't come crawling back later." Beside him, Naomi's heart leapt with silent, savage joy. 'Yes! This bitch is finally being thrown out for good! The title of Sanders heiress belongs to me alone!' Outwardly, however, she arranged her features into a mask of gentle concern. "Nyla, please, don't be so rash. We're family," she said softly, her voice dripping with faux sincerity. "Whatever misunderstandings we have, we can talk them through. You're breaking Mom and Dad's hearts! Just apologize, I'm sure they'll forgive you..." Nyla cut her off with an icy look. "Shut your mouth. Say one more word, and I'll cut out your lying tongue. Believe me." "I..." Naomi opened her mouth to protest, but the sheer cold lethality in Nyla's eyes stole her voice. She quickly buried her face back into Pamela's shoulder, feigning a tremble. "Mom... she's so scary!" But from the corner of her eye, a sly, calculating glint remained fixed on Nyla. 'What's happened to her? It's like she's a different person since waking up. Was all that meekness before just an act?' Pamela held her tighter, stroking her hair. "Don't be afraid, darling. Your dad, your brothers, and I are here. We won't let her hurt you." She then glared venomously at Nyla. "I thank God every day for that hospital mix-up at birth. Who knows what havoc you would have wreaked on this family if you'd been raised here." Instead of anger, a humorless smile touched Nyla's lips. "What a coincidence. I feel exactly the same. I'm profoundly grateful I wasn't raised by the Sanders family. Who knows what fresh hell I would have endured." "You..." Pamela trembled with rage, pointing a finger at Nyla, her chest heaving, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Enough!" Dale snarled, shooting a final, hate-filled glare at Nyla. "We're leaving!" He turned on his heel and stalked out. Pamela shot Nyla one last withering look before shepherding the faux-weeping Naomi after him. Zaid, Adrien, and Kody made no move to stay. Each leveled a final look at Nyla with disgust, ice, and warning clear in their eyes before turning and following Dale and Pamela out. As Nyla watched their retreating backs disappear through the doorway, a cold, mocking smile lingered on her lips. Each one of the Sanders family members was more foolish and contemptible than the last. To spurn their own flesh and blood while coddling and caving to an impostor was a blindness born of willful stupidity, pitiable and infuriating in equal measure. But Nyla thought it was for the best. Once the guardianship paperwork was done, she would be truly free, unbound, answerable to no one. The wide world awaited. And she could finally soar. The thought alone sent a thrilling current of anticipation through her. Chapter 5 Exploring The Sanders Home Dale and the others went back to the living room of the Sanders residence. The Sanders residence was a sprawling single-story home. The main section contained five bedrooms, a dining room, a large living area, and led out to a sizable courtyard. Adjacent to the main house was a woodshed, also used for storage, which had served as Nyla's living quarters. Pamela helped Naomi settle onto the sofa. With tender concern, she took out a handkerchief and gently dabbed at Naomi's face. "How are you feeling, sweetheart? Does it still hurt?" Naomi's eyes were rimmed red. She shook her head. "Mom, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I made Nyla so angry she wants to cut ties..." "Don't mention that ingrate. Just thinking about her makes my blood boil," Pamela snapped, tossing the handkerchief onto the floor with a gesture of disgust. "Mom's right, Naomi. This isn't on you. Don't give her another thought," Kody said, giving Naomi's shoulder a comforting pat. "Once she's out there on her own and realizes how tough the world is, she'll come crawling back." "Exactly, Naomi. Let me go get something to ice that cheek," Adrien said, his voice full of solicitous worry. Naomi gave a small, grateful nod. "Thank you, Adrien." "Silly girl, no need for thanks." With that, Adrien hurried off toward his room. It was then that Naomi noticed Dale was still sitting on the sofa, making no move to retrieve the family's guardianship records. A slight frown creased her brow. "Dad, what Nyla said... she was just speaking in anger. You shouldn't really go through with changing her paperwork." Pamela turned to look at Dale, her own brow furrowed. "Dale, why are you just sitting there? Weren't you going to get that wretched girl's papers sorted?" Dale's expression was grim. "No rush." Pamela looked puzzled. "What's the matter?" Dale let out a heavy sigh. "That wretched girl is taking Naomi's place for the national service assignment. Changing her guardianship status right now might not be wise." "Why not? The assignment is fixed, isn't it? It can't be changed." Pamela frowned. Dale explained with a grim look, "I know it can't be changed. But it's our family's slot. She's going as a representative of the Sanders household. "If we formally remove her from the family register now, she's no longer a Sanders. "What's to stop her from going to the National Service Office and claiming she doesn't represent us? Then Naomi might still have to go." "What..." Pamela thought for a moment, then nodded slowly, seeing his point. "You're right. Better to be cautious. She can stay a couple more days, then." Dale gave a terse nod. Internally, Naomi was far from pleased with this development. But Dale's logic was sound. She herself had submitted the application. If Nyla refused to acknowledge she was going in the Sanders family's stead, the whole scheme could backfire spectacularly. 'Fine,' Naomi thought grudgingly. 'Let the bitch stay a couple more days. 'But the way Nyla acted today... Letting her stay, with this new, defiant personality, feels risky. Who knows what trouble she might stir up? 'Ugh, never mind. She's leaving in two days anyway. Whether she's officially kicked out now or then hardly matters. 'I can just make sure they process the paperwork on the day she leaves. That should work.' ***** Back in the storage room, Nyla waited and waited. Noon approached, and there was no sign of Dale with the guardianship papers. She frowned, then let out a soft, scornful laugh, shaking her head slightly. 'No backbone at all. All bluster, no action. Pathetic.' But she was determined to get those papers. If they wouldn't come to her, she'd go to them. Glancing outside, she saw the sun was high. 'Perfect time for lunch. Maybe I can finally get a decent meal out of this family. 'In six months, the original owner had never been allowed to eat at the main table, let alone enjoy the good food. 'Today, I'll enjoy it on her behalf.' Nyla stood, straightened her worn, faded clothes, and pulled open the door, heading for the main house. The living room was empty. A flicker of suspicion crossed Nyla's face. 'Have they actually gone to handle the paperwork? No. They wouldn't all go for that, and they'd need her present anyway. Maybe they are all at work?' Her gaze turned speculative, shifting toward the inner hallway. 'The original owner never set foot in the private rooms these past six months. Just the kitchen, living room, dining room. She never saw what the rest of the house was like. 'Perfect. While the coast is clear, I'll do a little reconnaissance. Get the lay of the land. 'Makes it easier to relocate their belongings into my pocket dimension when it's time to leave.' Decision made, Nyla moved into the hallway, carefully opening doors. The first room, nearest the living room, was spacious and bright, tidy and smelling faintly of paper and polish. A desk held books on mechanical engineering and a pair of glasses. It was Zaid's room. Nyla gave it a swift, professional sweep. There were neatly pressed work clothes in the wardrobe, mundane items in the nightstand. She opened each drawer, mentally cataloging any cash or items of value before moving on. Next door was slightly smaller but equally orderly, with a faint antiseptic scent in the air. Medical textbooks and a stethoscope on the desk marked it as Adrien's domain. Nyla's eyes briefly lingered on a small medical kit in the corner before she repeated her inventory of the drawers. The third room was Kody's. It was spartan, reflecting a disciplined, almost regimented mind. A few commendation certificates hung on the wall, and a neatly folded police uniform lay over a chair. Nyla noted the locked drawer on the desk but didn't act on it, just filed the detail away. At the end of the hallway was the largest, sunniest bedroom. She pushed the door open slowly. A wave of cloyingly sweet perfume wafted out. The room was a stark contrast to the rest of the house's utilitarian style. There were pink curtains, a soft double bed with a floral quilt, a massive wardrobe against the wall. A vanity was cluttered with pots of Beauty Fluid, hair oils, face powder, several pretty hair clips, and a silk scarf. A small radio sat on the bedside table. 'So this is how they spoil their precious Naomi. Even the sons don't live this lavishly.' A cold smile touched her lips as a pang of sympathy for the original owner flared within her. She opened the wardrobe. It was packed with dresses and skirts, many of them new and made from polyester blends. Her fingers trailed through the clothes, stopping when they brushed against something hard in a back corner. It was a small, unremarkable box. Inside, she found a few pieces of delicate gold jewelry and a small, hidden stash of cash. "Clever hiding spot," Nyla muttered with disdain, replacing the box exactly as she found it. She moved to the master bedroom. It smelled of old wood and faint mothballs. The furniture was solid and somber: a large wooden bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers. It was Dale and Pamela's room. Nyla's eyes swept the dimension like a scanner, probing for secrets. She opened the drawers of the chest, feeling beneath the neatly folded clothes. Her fingers met the cool, heavy metal of a locked box. She didn't open it, but a knowing smirk appeared. Next, she examined the wardrobe's interior, her gaze missing nothing. A slight irregularity in the seam of the inner panel caught her eye. A gentle press with her nail revealed a small, cleverly concealed compartment. Inside were document folders and more small boxes. "Just as I thought," she mused silently. Dale was a factory manager, and Pamela was an accountant. It was unlikely they were models of pristine honesty. "Good. Very good. The day I leave for my assignment will be the day the Sanders family's fortune takes a turn for the worse." She carefully restored the hidden compartment and closed the wardrobe. As Nyla turned to leave, her eye caught a locked camphorwood trunk tucked under the bed. "Well, well. More treasures," she murmured, a faint smile playing on her lips. Lastly, she peeked into a tiny room, no more than sixty square feet. It held only a narrow bed and a battered wooden cupboard, showing that it was likely a maid's room or unused storage. Having completed her survey, Nyla returned to the living room and sat down just as the front door opened. Pamela and Naomi walked in, their faces lit with cheerful smiles that froze the moment they saw her. Chapter 6 Hitting Naomi Pamela and Naomi stepped into the living room and immediately saw Nyla sitting casually on the sofa. Pamela's face darkened instantly. "Who said you could sit there?" she snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. "Have I not made it clear? You are not to touch anything in this room except to clean it, and you are certainly not to sit on the furniture!" At her words, the temperature in Nyla's eyes dropped to freezing. She rose to her feet in one fluid motion. "I'm sitting. What are you going to do about it?" Without another word, she pivoted and delivered a powerful kick to a heavy wooden side chair next to her. She wondered gloomily, 'The original owner, for all her suffering, was still this woman's biological child. To be forbidden from even sitting on a couch... This isn't a family. This household treated her like a slave.' The solid wooden chair shot across the room and slammed into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch. One of its legs splintered on impact, and the chair listed sideways before crashing to the floor in a grating screech of wood on wood. The sudden, violent act and its thunderous noise made both Pamela and Naomi jump, their bodies going rigid with shock. The anger on Pamela's face solidified into stunned disbelief, a flicker of genuine fear darting deep in her eyes. She stared at the ruined chair, then at Nyla, who stood tall and immovable, her gaze icy, an aura of terrifying menace rolling off her. For a moment, Pamela was speechless. Naomi let out a small, frightened squeak, stumbling back several steps and clutching Pamela's arm, her face bleached of color. It took Pamela several seconds to recover. Humiliation and rage twisted her features. "You little bitch! You've lost your mind! I'll teach you a lesson!" she shrieked, lunging at Nyla with nails poised like claws. "Looking for a beating?" Nyla snorted, not moving from her spot. She simply lifted her leg and delivered a precise, powerful kick squarely to Pamela's abdomen. Pamela's scream was cut short as the air was driven from her lungs. She flew backward, landing heavily over three feet away, crumpling to the floor. Agony from the blow made her curl into a tight ball, her face ashen. She could only manage choked, gasping sounds, her body wracked with painful tremors. "Mom! Mom, are you okay?" Naomi screamed in terror, scrambling to Pamela's side. Pamela clutched her stomach, unable to speak, reduced to pained whimpers on the floor. Nyla looked down on the scene with cold, detached eyes, utterly unmoved. Naomi looked up at Nyla, tears now genuine but born of fear. "Nyla, if you're angry, take it out on me. How could you hit Mom?" "On you? Gladly." A cruel, icy smile touched Nyla's lips as she began to advance. Seeing her approach, Naomi began to shake uncontrollably, scooting backward. "W-what are you doing?" she cried, her voice shrill with panic. "Just giving you what you asked for," Nyla said, her smile widening. Before Naomi could react, Nyla moved with blurring speed. She bent down, her hand shooting out to clamp around Naomi's throat, and hauled the girl bodily up from the floor. "Na-Naomi!" Pamela cried out desperately, fighting through her own pain. Naomi's face turned a mottled red, her eyes bulging. She choked, struggling to force out words. "You... you're insane... let... let go... or else..." "Or else what?" Nyla's voice was glacial, the killing intent around her thickening palpably. Then, Nyla raised her free hand and brought it down in a vicious, open-palmed slap across Naomi's face. The smack was crisp and loud. Naomi's cheek immediately began to swell. "You vile creature! Let her go!" Pamela shrieked, her voice raw with fury and helplessness. Nyla glanced down at her, a cold laugh escaping. "You gave birth to me. If I'm a 'vile creature,' what does that make you? The old hag who whelped me?" "You—" Pamela trembled violently, pointing a shaking finger, rendered speechless by rage. Nyla ignored her, her attention back on the struggling girl in her grip. "Asking to be hit... that's a first for me. You're a special one." Another resounding slap landed on the other side of Naomi's face. Both cheeks were now puffing up rapidly, turning her face into a lumpy, grotesque mask. Tears of pain streamed from her eyes. The relentless pressure on her throat was cutting off her air; she began to gag, her legs kicking feebly. "Naomi!" Pamela felt like her heart was being ripped apart. She tried to push herself up, but the agony in her abdomen pinned her down. "You maniac! What do you want? Let her go!" Seeing the light begin to fade from Naomi's eyes, Nyla knew she'd made her point. With a disdainful snort, she swung her arm and tossed Naomi aside like a sack of garbage, sending her sprawling next to Pamela. "Naomi! Sweetheart, talk to me!" Pamela frantically gathered the girl into her arms. Naomi, gasping for her life, lay on the floor wheezing and coughing violently, unable to form words. At that moment, a clamor of hurried footsteps and voices approached from outside. A group of neighbors, drawn by the commotion, rushed into the living room. They took in the chaotic scene with gasps and exclamations. "Good heavens! What in the world is going on here?" Someone exclaimed, "Pamela, what's all this ruckus?" "Nyla... what happened?" One of the women, a neighbor named Marlie, looked at Nyla with shock and confusion. In an instant, Nyla's demeanor transformed. The cold lethality vanished, replaced by a mask of sheer terror and profound hurt. Tears welled up instantly, spilling over. Her voice trembled with a convincing sob. "Marlie, I wasn't feeling well today. After I finished cleaning the living room, I just wanted to rest for a moment on the chair. "When Mom and Naomi came back and saw me sitting, they started yelling at me. "They called me a dirty country bumpkin, said I'd soil their things. Then they tried to hit me..." She let out another gut-wrenching sob. "When Mom rushed at me, she tripped over the leg of the chair and fell. Naomi said it was my fault and came at me with the broom. "It hurt so much, I could only try to dodge. She got so angry, she was swinging the broom wildly and accidentally hit the table. It bounced back and struck her in the face. "Now she's saying I did it. Ladies, please, you have to help me, or they'll beat me to death..." As she spoke, she "accidentally" pushed up the sleeve of her worn shirt, revealing the crude bandage on her wrist and, more tellingly, the latticework of older, faded scars and welts that crisscrossed her forearm. Those were marks unmistakably left by a switch or a cane. "You lying little tramp! That's not what—" Pamela screamed, fury making her shake, but Nyla cut her off with another burst of heartbroken weeping. "Look, ladies, look at these marks... from sticks, from branches. I..." She broke down, shoulders heaving. Marlie's face hardened with outrage as she took in the scars. She pointed an accusing finger at Pamela. "Pamela Sanders! That girl is your own flesh and blood! How could you treat her this way?" The neighbors, their sense of justice ignited, began a chorus of condemnation. "Exactly! The poor child was lost for eighteen years, suffered who knows what, and instead of cherishing her, you abuse her? Have you no humanity?" One of them clicked her tongue and sighed. "We'd heard you didn't treat her right, but this is monstrous!" Filled with indignation, a woman pointed her finger at Pamela. "Shame on you! You don't deserve to be called a mother. Utterly disgraceful!" "No! It's not like that!" Naomi tried to interject, desperate to control the narrative, but the neighbors were too incensed to listen. Marlie stepped forward and wrapped a protective arm around Nyla's trembling shoulders. "You poor, poor child... We knew you had it rough, but this? Oh, you might have been better off staying in the country..." An old woman kept shaking her head. "It's true. The Sanderses are despicable. Since this girl came back, she's done all the work, inside and out. I've seen her out back washing clothes in the pitch dark." "What a sin... So pitiful. This is absolutely wicked." The neighbors murmured among themselves, their disapproving glances and hissed comments forming a tidal wave of censure that threatened to drown Pamela and Naomi. Just then, a new voice cut through the din, low and displeased. "What is the meaning of this?" The crowd near the door parted slightly. Dale stood on the threshold, his brow furrowed deeply as he surveyed the packed living room and his neighbors' angry faces, his own expression a mix of bewilderment and irritation.

I’ve died once already. When the cold wall shattered my skull, I thought it was the end. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back—ten years earlier, in Aloville Medical School. Everyone stared at me like I was the villain who framed Natalie just to climb higher. Vincent forced me to write an apology, Aiden stood coldly by, and even my old crew betrayed me. But they didn’t know—I remembered exactly how this played out. Natalie would win them all with her tears, my professor would destroy me, and I’d sink alone into the abyss. Not this time. This life, I’ll rip the mask off their lies, reclaim my honor, and turn the tables. If fate gave me a second chance, then I’ll be the one pushing them into hell. 1.Chapter 1 Back From The Dead "Josie, you know you screwed up, right?" Vincent Oldham's voice yanked Josie Pearson out of her fog. Her eyes zeroed in on his face, sharp and familiar. 'Wait, didn't I die?' she thought. Two years after her mentor sold her out and landed her in prison, she'd hit rock bottom, crashing her head into a wall to escape the depression. 'So why am I staring at Vincent, my old college buddy?' Josie blinked hard, her eyes burning. 'Am I tripping again? 'Imagining my crew's here to spring me from jail?' "Look, we get it—you're gunning to join Professor David Lawson's research team. But that's no excuse for throwing Natalie under the bus," Vincent said, his tone sharp. "You realize what you've done? You accused Natalie of jacking your paper, and now she's so messed up she hasn't shown her face at school in days. "Keep this up, Josie, and you're gonna push her off the deep end. When did you turn so cold-blooded?" Vincent was getting pissed, slamming his coffee mug on the table when she didn't respond. The sharp clunk snapped her out of it. This wasn't a dream. She was really here, face-to-face with Vincent—ten years younger Vincent. Holy crap. She'd somehow jumped back a decade. Right now, she was still a senior at Aloville Medical School, fresh off nailing the written exam for Professor David Lawson's elite research team. She'd crushed it, landing a spot in the final round. But then came the sucker punch: Natalie Kinberg's thesis was a near clone of hers—same angle, same methods, same vibe. No way that was a coincidence. While Josie was digging for answers, rumors about Natalie plagiarizing spread like wildfire. David's project was a big deal—first of its kind in the country, with a team of rockstar researchers, including five of Josie's seniors. Those five had been her crew since sophomore year, always having her back in class and life. They were family. Then Natalie showed up, and it all flipped. The support, the late-night study sessions, the laughs—they all went to her. Even David, who used to praise Josie's grind, started treating Natalie like the star pupil. When the plagiarism rumors hit, her seniors swore Josie was the one stirring the pot. Even David tore into her, face red with anger. Josie wasn't Natalie's biggest fan, no lie. She'd been competitive, always trying to outshine her, desperate to reclaim the spotlight. But she never spread those rumors or accused Natalie of stealing. "You really blew it," Vincent said, his voice softening a bit. "Professor Lawson's giving you a shot, though. Apologize to Natalie in front of the whole school, and he'll let it go. "He'll even keep the administration from nailing you with a punishment." "But if you keep doubling down and dragging her name through the mud, you're done. Expulsion's on the table." "Fine. I'll apologize," Josie said, her voice flat, eyes locked on his. Vincent was a year ahead, a small-town kid like her who'd fought his way into this school. She'd known him longest—four years. She thought he'd have her back, trust her when she said she didn't start this drama. Nope. He was the first one here, pushing her to eat crow. Vincent blinked, caught off guard by her quick surrender. Josie didn't cave this easy, not the Josie he knew. Still, an apology was a win, so he didn't push. "Alright, it's a deal," he said. "I'll tell Professor Lawson. Write that apology letter tonight. You're reading it to the whole school tomorrow." Josie's lips curled into a sharp, bitter smirk. She wasn't that gullible girl anymore. She knew the truth: Natalie spread those rumors herself, playing the victim to turn everyone against Josie. Depression? Just a sob story to make the seniors fawn over her. But that wasn't the point now. Josie wanted to know how Natalie jacked her thesis without leaving a trace. In her old life, she'd refused to apologize. The mess blew up, the school investigated, and they found nothing on Natalie. Meanwhile, Josie got hit with a disciplinary record, her seniors called her heartless, and that stain wrecked her job prospects after graduation. Not this time. She wasn't taking the fall. If someone was going down, it sure as hell wouldn't be her. The next morning, Josie steeled herself to eat humble pie and make her public apology. She threw on her backpack and stepped out of the dorm, chin up despite the knot in her gut. As she crossed campus, the whispers and side-eyes trailed her like a bad smell. "There she is—Professor Lawson's former golden girl. Got all jealous and trashed the department's darling for supposedly jacking her paper." "She thought she was all that with her grades, catching the eye of our five campus hotties. Then Natalie rolls in—just as smart, drop-dead gorgeous, and actually nice." "Look at that sour face. She's not even in Natalie's league. Why those guys still have her back is beyond me." "Have her back? Please. They're all Team Natalie now. This whole 'say sorry in front of everyone' thing? Aiden's call." 'Aiden's idea, huh?' Josie let out a sharp, bitter scoff and picked up her pace to dodge the gossip. She'd barely hit the quad when Jaden Monroe, her senior, caught up. Jaden was a first-year grad student who'd saved her bacon back in her senior year. She'd been floundering in her toughest classes, and he'd tossed her his killer notes, helping her ace her exams. When he was stressing over grad school apps, Josie had pulled all-nighters hunting down research and reference books for him. She'd never owed him or any of the guys a thing. Jaden shot her a look, heavy with disappointment. "Josie, I always thought you were one of the good ones. "Never figured you'd pull something this low just to get ahead. And Natalie? She's too kind to even hold it against you. "You didn't see her after what you did. She's a mess—skinnier, totally worn out. Those big, bright eyes? No spark left." "And still, she's got your back. Went to Professor Lawson on the down-low, begging him to let you off this public apology crap. But you gotta have a heart, yeah?" "So when you see her, you better say sorry—and mean it, okay?" Josie dropped her gaze, lashes hiding the fire in her eyes. "Got it, Jaden. I'll make things right with her, I swear." "Should've thought twice before pulling that stunt." Jaden almost kept going, but seeing her stand there, head down like a kid who got caught, made him ease up. Deep down, he'd always seen Josie as a solid kid—smart, hardworking, always chasing her academic dreams. Everyone respected her grind. 'So how the hell did she think screwing someone over for a spot was okay?' Jaden wondered, shaking his head. 'What a letdown.' With a heavy sigh, Jaden led her toward Professor Lawson's office. 2.Chapter 2 Saying Sorry The air in David's office was thick with tension as the whole team sat crammed inside. When Josie walked in, the vibe turned frosty, faces souring like they'd bitten into a lemon. Except for Natalie. She jumped up, flashing a grin bright enough to blind. "Josie! You showed!" "I'm here to say sorry," Josie said, sidestepping Natalie's grabby hands. She didn't have Natalie's gift for playing nice with people she couldn't stand. Natalie faltered, like she'd been caught off guard. "Wait, you still think I'm shady, don't you?" Her voice quivered, eyes glistening like she was about to bawl. "I didn't copy your paper, Josie. Take it to the dean if you don't believe me. Let them figure it out." Josie dropped her gaze, looking more pathetic than Natalie's theatrics. "I'm apologizing, okay? The papers looking so similar threw me, but I wasn't gonna snitch. "I didn't breathe a word to anyone else." The team, who'd been glaring at Josie like she'd kicked a puppy, started to rethink things. Josie wasn't a gossip—she barely had friends outside the lab. This drama? She'd only mentioned it to them. Aiden's frown eased, his eyes settling on Josie. "I buy that you didn't mean to stir the pot, but Natalie got burned. "If you hadn't gone all detective, people wouldn't be whispering about her stealing your work." "An apology's not too much to ask," he added, arms crossed. Aiden was the team's golden boy—brains, looks, the whole package. Josie had picked this major partly because it was the med school's hot ticket, but let's be real: Aiden was a big reason too. He'd been her hero once. Once. Not anymore. "Fair point," Kyle Langton, another senior, chimed in. "Josie, I'm with Aiden. You didn't mean to cause a mess. "Natalie's a softie, so just smooth it over, and we're all cool." Josie nearly laughed. Natalie, a softie? Yeah, right. But she zipped it. "Got it, Kyle. I'll fix this." Turning to Natalie, she said, "I'm sorry, Natalie. I messed up, and it hurt you. Honest—can we move past this?" Then it hit her. Josie had been tight with this crew for years before Natalie rolled in. Breaking that bond? Tougher than she thought. Natalie flashed a sugary smile. "Josie, I was never mad! Forgive? Psh, nothing to forgive!" She spun to David, plopping down beside him with a flirty grin, voice all sweet. "Told ya, Professor Lawson. Josie wouldn't try to screw me over. Cut her some slack, yeah?" Lawson wasn't biting. His face was hard as granite, shooting Josie a look that could freeze lava. "On purpose or not, she screwed up. And screw-ups have consequences. So, Josie, how should I deal with you?" David's face was like stone as he shot Josie a hard stare. He'd always thought she was the good girl—smart, driven, a total overachiever. Now? He wasn't so sure. To him, grades were one thing, but a shady character was a dealbreaker. 'She's gotta learn her lesson,' he decided. 'No more badmouthing her classmates.' Josie had puzzled over why everyone bought Natalie's act. After some soul-searching, it clicked: Natalie was gorgeous and a master at playing the damsel. Josie couldn't compete. So she swallowed her pride. "Whatever you say, Professor Lawson." "We're kicking off research soon," David said, voice sharp. "Your punishment? Sort every scrap of data. Make it so we can grab what we need, no fuss, no muss." He waved them off. As they headed out, Josie, stuck in the middle, flashed back to her old life. She'd been slapped with a disciplinary note and kicked off the team. To make things right, she'd buried herself in the archives, sorting documents like a machine. It took a brutal month—one meal a day, late nights, the works. She ended up with a messed-up stomach and flunked classes. And the thanks? Nada. They just griped her work wasn't good enough. 'What a load of crap,' she thought. 'Bust your tail, and they still dump on you.' Now, here she was again, stuck with the same lousy job. "Hey, Josie, I'll help you out," Natalie said, catching up and linking arms with her. "If I keep my mouth shut, the prof won't know." "She's got this coming," Jaden cut in, pulling Natalie back. "Why cover for her?" Vincent glanced at Natalie. "Chill about Professor Lawson. Sorting files is nothing compared to a real punishment." "Got it, thanks, Vince," Josie said with a quick smile, hurrying after Natalie. "Hey, Nat, I was so caught up saying sorry earlier, I forgot—I got you a little something." She pulled a sleek box from her bag. The group stopped cold, crowding around. "That Aiden's medal?" Tianna blurted. Vincent nodded. "Yeah, his first big win in that med competition. He loved that thing—till he gave it to you to cheer you up." "Spot on," Josie said, eyeing the group. "I was new, totally bombed an experiment, and Professor Lawson chewed me out. Aiden gave me this medal, said it was lucky. "And you know what? After that, I was golden—no more screw-ups." She held the box out to Natalie. "Natalie, I heard this mess really got you down—depression and all. Take this. It's like a good-luck charm. "You'll be set from now on. Aiden swore by it." Natalie's eyes lit up. She wanted that medal. Not just for its shine, but because it was Aiden's—his first victory, something special. In her eyes, Josie didn't deserve it. But snagging it right in front of him? That was ballsy. "Josie, that's sweet, but it's Aiden's gift to you," Natalie said, pushing the box back. "I can't take it." 3.Chapter 3 Picking A New Major Josie shot Aiden a quick glance before shoving the medal into Natalie's hands. "Heard it was Aiden's big idea to make you apologize in front of everyone. "He's clearly got a soft spot for you. It's just a medal—he won't care if it cheers you up." "Right, Aiden?" Josie shot him a sly grin. That grin stung like a jab. Aiden knew she was salty about the whole apology deal. 'She's the one who screwed up!' he thought, steaming. 'How's she gonna be so petty?' That medal wasn't just some cheap token—it was his first, handed over with so much pride. Back then, he'd been over the moon to give it to her. Now? Total regret. 'She doesn't get it,' he fumed. 'I treated her like my little sis, always had her back, helped her out. 'And what do I get? All that care, tossed in the trash.' "Nice one, Josie," Aiden growled, snatching the medal back. Josie didn't flinch. She raised an eyebrow. "What, not cool with cheering up your little star? Thought you'd love it." "You don't just regift something someone gave you," Natalie snapped, pouting. "Come on, Josie, that's basic." "But you're not just anyone," Josie said, all innocent with a blink. "You're the team's darling. Aiden's fine with it, right?" "Over the moon," Aiden said, his calm mask cracking with a scowl. He shoved the medal at Natalie. "Here, kid. Keep it safe. Don't be like some people who flunk Gift 101." He stormed off. The second he was gone, Natalie's face darkened. She'd always wanted that medal, but like this? It felt wrong. Josie was bolder than she thought, humiliating Aiden in front of everyone. 'Is she trying to get booted from the team?' she wondered. "Josie, what's your deal?" Vincent groaned, glaring. "Why tick off Aiden? You still wanna do research or not?" Josie sighed. "I thought he'd be stoked since he's so into Natalie. How was I supposed to know he'd flip?" She glanced at Natalie. "My bad, Natalie. Didn't think he'd care. But he's fine now, so it's yours." She sauntered off without a glance back. The others swapped looks, thrown. Josie, the quiet research geek, was acting off. Something was definitely up. ***** The next day, Josie slipped into the library. No way was she here to play good student and sort files like her past life. Her mission was picking a new major. Med school was a five-year slog, and she was deep in her senior year. Switching now was a long shot. But sticking with her current major? Made her wanna puke. It wasn't the program's fault—it was the fact she'd burned bridges with the team's big shots. Staying meant signing up for hell. She wasn't here to get crushed, not with a second chance. She knew the team was headed for a dumpster fire. So there was no need to stick around. Plus, leaving was the only way to see Natalie's true game and unravel the mysteries from her old life. The catch? She had zero clue what major to pick. And that was a problem. She'd spent all afternoon tearing through every book on majors in the library, desperate for one she could pick up fast and graduate with in a year. No dice. Ready to call it quits and try again tomorrow, she spun around too fast and kicked a table leg. A guy napping at the table jolted awake, his book hitting the floor with a thud. Josie winced, snatching it up. "Oh, shoot, I'm so sorry! I didn't—" Her eyes caught the title, and her apology stalled. "Acupuncture?" "Who said you could touch that?!" The guy yanked the book from her and stormed out. "Why'd you go and mess with him?" Kyle strolled in, pulling Josie aside. "You okay? He didn't get in your face, did he?" Josie shook her head. "I'm good. I just knocked his book off. Guy's got a right to be ticked. What're you doing here, Kyle?" "Vincent and Jaden got held up, so I came instead." Kyle handed her a lunchbox. "No way I'm letting you sort this mess alone." Josie took it with a grin. Things were different this time. In her old life, they'd iced her out. But now, after apologizing to Natalie, they were actually being nice. She wasn't fooled, though—it was all about Natalie, not because they trusted her. Back then, she hadn't apologized. No matter how much she explained, nobody bought it. Once, while stuck in the library, she'd seen Kyle pass by with a lunchbox. Starving, she'd asked if she could have some to save time. Kyle had scoffed, saying the food was for Natalie and that a "nobody" like her didn't deserve it. Just because she hadn't kissed up to Natalie. Josie popped the lunchbox open, shaking off the memory. "Thanks, man. I'm starving." She settled in a corner to eat, her mind drifting to that book. 'Acupuncture? That could work,' she thought. If she remembered right, it was the least popular major at med school. Jobs in Traditional Medicine were rare, and acupuncturists? Basically nonexistent. Nobody picked it. But that was the perk: it was easier to get into, and with so few students, the professors had time to actually teach. She could get plenty of one-on-one help. She'd have to check it out. "Yo, you zoning out?" Kyle wandered over. "I called you, like, twice." Josie flashed a sheepish grin. "Just thinking about earlier. You know that guy I bumped into?" "What, Sean Reedshaw?" Kyle's face twisted like he'd bitten a lemon. Josie blinked. "That's Sean Reedshaw?" Rumor had it their department had two hotshots: Aiden, the golden boy who lit up the room, and Sean, the dark, mysterious type, like a storm cloud one couldn't pin down. "He's got major beef with Aiden and some seriously bad vibes. Steer clear," Kyle warned, giving her a look. 4.Chapter 4 Playing Dirty Josie smirked to herself. If this guy was on Aiden's bad side, she was definitely gonna get to know him better. She chucked her lunchbox into the trash and headed off to dig up some books on acupuncture. Kyle caught her ignoring him, and his jaw tightened. "Hey, you hear me? You already ticked Aiden off this morning. Don't go making it worse." Josie almost laughed, but it was a cold, bitter one in her head. In her old life, she'd jumped through hoops to keep them happy, always putting their feelings first. Not anymore. She was done playing nice—she was looking out for herself now. "Thanks for handling the stuff, Kyle," she said, voice icy, barely glancing at Kyle before heading upstairs. Her chilly vibe threw Kyle off. He'd known Josie forever, and she'd never hit him with that look. Kyle's mind spun. 'Is she still mad about this morning when we pushed her to apologize? I thought Aiden's feelings were her top priority. I was just trying to help—why's she acting like I'm the jerk?' Kyle scoffed and stormed out of the archive room. When Josie came back down with her book, the empty room didn't surprise her. Kyle was selfish to the core. His family name and skills weren't enough to keep him in the team's good books, so he stuck to Aiden like glue, always sucking up. Back when Josie was the team's favorite, Aiden had a soft spot for her. Kyle milked it, using her to talk him up to Aiden. Even when a lab disaster nearly got him kicked out, Josie had begged Aiden and David to give him another shot. But when Natalie framed her and the team turned on her, who was the first to stab her in the back? Kyle. Josie let out a sharp, mocking chuckle. 'What, I give him the cold shoulder once, and he just bolts? 'Wait till I shove that diploma in his face, every backstab he pulled returned, one by one. What's he gonna do then?' She pushed Kyle out of her mind, left the archive room, and headed to her dorm, missing the cold, angry eyes watching her from the shadows. Kyle figured Josie would blow up his phone, begging him to come back and help. The archive room was a mess of papers—no way she could sort it alone. But she didn't call. Didn't even stay. She just walked out. That wasn't the Josie he knew. 'Is this who she really is?' he wondered, doubt creeping in. 'Was that sweet, go-along girl just a front all this time?' Kyle's face lit up like he'd cracked a big secret. Heading to the guys' dorm, he muttered, "Josie, you're done. I'm gonna expose you and make things right for Natalie." Aiden had pushed for Josie to apologize to Natalie, showing who he really cared about. Kyle thought If he could get on Natalie's good side, Aiden would be stoked. He'd hoped Josie would suck it up and say sorry to Aiden—then he'd have two people hyping him up to the boss. 'But nope, Josie's gotta be stubborn and blow me off,' he thought. 'Well, can't say I didn't try!' Josie bolted back to her dorm, stuffed her laptop into her backpack, and headed for the door. Before darting out, she shot her roommate a look. "Hey, if anyone comes asking for me, just say I'm sick and dragged myself to the hospital, okay?" And yeah, she did head to the hospital. Aloville's only traditional medicine hospital, linked to their med school, was her spot. Josie slung her bag over her shoulder and made a beeline for the acupuncture wing. She'd checked the school's website and knew Delilah Wilcourt, the acupuncture rockstar, was running rounds today. She hadn't even hit the department when she spotted Delilah down the hall. "Professor Wilcourt!" Josie called, but before she could say more, Delilah cut in. "You're late! Hurry up, get changed, and meet me in the treatment room, stat," she said. Josie didn't bother explaining. She just followed Delilah, who was already charging ahead. Rumor had it, acupuncture training got real hands-on later on. For local interns, Delilah led rounds, teaching while treating patients. In the changing room, Josie noticed it was way quieter than David's chaotic sessions, where a herd of students trailed him. Here, it was just Delilah and three interns—Josie, one guy, and one other girl. Super chill setup. "Get the tools ready," Delilah said, slapping on a mask and glancing at them. Josie had no idea what to do, so she stuck close to the other girl, Claire—she'd glimpsed her name on her scrubs' badge while changing. "First timer?" Claire asked, passing Josie some silver needles to sterilize. "Who sent you? Nobody mentioned a new intern. What's your name?" Josie flicked her eyes toward Mu, who was distracted. She exhaled softly. "Josie Pearson." "Josie?" Claire squinted. "Sounds familiar. We met before?" Josie's stomach flipped. "Nah, acupuncture's my second major. First time here. Came for Professor Wilcourt's rep. Pretty sure we're strangers." "Huh, I could've sworn—" Claire started, but Delilah's voice sliced through. "Quit yapping!" Delilah grabbed the sterilized needles and headed for the treatment room. "Move it! Today's patient's got a tough case, and this'll take a while. Pay attention." Claire made a face behind Delilah's back, then tugged Josie's arm and whispered, "Don't worry, Professor Wilcourt's all bark. She's the coolest prof here. "You picked a good gig—barely anyone does acupuncture, so internships are wide open. Professor Wilcourt basically holds your hand. "Finish your internship, and you're set to see patients solo. Graduate, get hired, and bam—full physician status. "No assistant grunt work like other specialties. Plus, better pay and an easy workload." "Hmph," a snarky scoff interrupted. It was the guy, mask on, face hidden, no badge. Josie had no clue who he was. "No need to oversell it," he said, eyeing Josie. "School didn't mention new interns. "You sure you're in the right place? If you're lost, you can still bail—Professor Wilcourt won't care." "Sean, you serious?" Claire hissed, yanking his arm. Josie froze. 'So he's Sean. No way I am leaving now.' Before she could speak, Delilah's voice rang out. "Sean's got a point. If you're in the wrong spot, walk now, and I won't blink. But if you stay and flunk the assessment later, don't expect me to go soft." 5.Chapter 5 The Hands-On Test Josie was dead-set on switching majors, and acupuncture was her golden ticket—the one field she was sure she could nail and graduate from. No way was she letting this slip away. She gritted her teeth and said, "I'm not in the wrong place. I'm serious—I came here specifically to learn acupuncture!" "Alright, come on in," Delilah said, giving her a quick once-over. Her mask hid any hint of what she was thinking, leaving Josie wondering if the professor believed her or was just humoring her. Nervous as hell, Josie stepped into the treatment room. She figured switching majors wouldn't be that big a deal. Her pharmacology and anatomy classes had given her a decent foundation. She wasn't totally clueless. Wrong. The moment Delilah started teaching, Josie realized she'd been way too confident. Her mind was suddenly flooded with a ton of questions. 'What's a trigger point? Where's this spleen meridian at? 'Why light incense before the needles go in? And hold on—why's it gotta be super slow and careful when you're poking those acupuncture spots? Man, seriously?' There was a mountain of info to memorize and a ton of details to keep straight. One measly hour felt like a week-long crash course—the kind where one couldn't jot down notes and there was a pop quiz at the end. By the time Delilah finished, Josie was sweating bullets. She was terrified of flunking the test and blowing her chance to impress Delilah. If she screwed this up, her dream of switching majors was dead in the water. "So," Delilah said, turning to her as they stepped out of the treatment room, "how much did you pick up?" Claire, catching Josie's jitters, jumped in. "Hey, no pressure. Just spill what you remember. "Wilcourt's not gonna bite your head off. That's a lot to take in all at once." Josie's heart swelled. She knew Claire was right—Delilah had gone into way more detail than she would've if Josie hadn't been there. Claire and Sean, both acupuncture majors, already knew this stuff like the back of their hands. Her gut had been right about Delilah. Unlike David, who'd snap at her for blinking wrong, Delilah was patient as a saint during hands-on lessons. A flicker of warmth hit Josie—she wasn't about to let them down. "You used two needle sets," she said, steadying her voice. "The first set hit the trigger point, Large Intestine 4, Governing Vessel 20, Stomach 40, Heart 7, Large Intestine 11, Stomach 44, Liver 3, Stomach 36, Spleen 9, and Governing Vessel 26. "The second set targeted Kidney 3, Heart 7, Kidney 7, Large Intestine 11, Conception Vessel 4, Large Intestine 4, Conception Vessel 6, and Stomach 28." She took a breath and added, "The calming incense you lit had stuff like patchouli, cinnamon bark, mugwort, lavender, and sandalwood—at least, that's what I could make out." Josie glanced nervously at Professor Wilcourt. "Did I get that right?" Wilcourt's eyebrow shot up. "You smelled the ingredients in the incense? Seriously?" Josie nodded firmly. "Yeah. I took an herbal medicine elective my sophomore year. I crammed like crazy for a pharmacology contest to win some cash. Really needed it." Claire's face lit up. "Hold up, that's why your name rang a bell! You're the one who beat me out for first place and snagged that fifteen-grand prize, right?" Josie winced. "Yeah, sorry about that, Claire. I was desperate for the money." "Sorry for what?" Claire laughed, brushing it off. "You won it fair and square. What, you think I'm gonna mug you for it or something?" She gave Josie a playful nudge, clearly not holding a grudge. Delilah let out a low whistle. "Losing and still bragging? If I were you, I'd keep that on the down-low." "For real," Sean said, peeling off his mask and throwing Claire a flat stare. "Talk about embarrassing." "Hey, watch it, you—" Claire started, but Delilah cut her off. "Alright, you two, go grab some food. I need a quick chat with Ms. Pearson here." Josie's spine stiffened. So now she knew Delilah had overheard everything and knew she wasn't some official intern sent by the school. Claire caught her panic and leaned in with a grin. "Chill, girl. If you really wanna learn, just lay it on thick with her. Maybe flash those puppy-dog eyes—you're cute enough to pull it off. She'll totally cave." With a cheeky wink, she let Sean drag her off. The room went silent, just Josie and Delilah left, her nerves buzzing like a live wire. "Professor, I gotta level with you," Josie said, fidgeting with her sleeve. "I wasn't straight-up earlier. I'm not an intern sent by the school, and I've never taken your class." Delilah raised an eyebrow, motioning to a chair. "Didn't you take pharmacology as an elective? That's my course, so you've kinda heard me teach." "Relax, kid," Delilah said with a half-smirk. "My program's not exactly swamped with fans. If you're serious about learning, I'm game to teach. But that pharmacology contest you brought up? That was two years ago." She leaned back, eyeing Josie. "You were a sophomore then, so… senior now, right? About to graduate? Got an internship lined up?" Josie nodded, her stomach in knots. "Yeah, but I tanked the exam for Professor Lawson's research team. "That means scrambling for a new internship, and that's not why I picked this field. I'd rather switch to something I can crush than settle." Delilah gave a slow nod, her face hard to read. "David's the big shot in his field, no doubt. If you can't join his crew, breaking out's gonna be tough." "But acupuncture? It's not some side hustle you just pick up. Why do you think you'll kill it here?" Her voice had an edge, a spark of challenge in her eyes. Josie knew she was on thin ice. One slip, and she'd tank her shot at acupuncture and piss off Delilah. She took a deep breath, voice steady. "I'm not saying I'll rule your field overnight. But I've checked my electives, and if I'm switching, acupuncture's my best bet. "I've looked into traditional medicine—it's blowing up here. If I go all in, I can make waves, maybe even outshine Professor Lawson's crew." Delilah snorted, her stern look cracking into a grin. "Smooth talker, huh? You saying I'm better than Professor Lawson?" She chuckled, then got serious. "My program's the underdog on campus. Barely anyone sticks it out to a PhD. Professor Lawson's classes? Kids fight like hell for a spot. "His team? You graduate, you're golden—straight to top research gigs. "You didn't make Professor Lawson's cut this time, but you could try again. Switching majors, though? No going back. You sure about this?" Josie didn't waver. "Dead sure. Acupuncture's niche, but that's why it's easier to stand out. You're as big a deal as Professor Lawson in your field, Professor Wilcourt. I'm betting on this." Delilah studied her for a beat, then shrugged. "Alright, you can stay—but you gotta ace the final exam this semester. Only then will I sign your internship papers." Josie exhaled, relief hitting her hard. But before she could relax, Delilah added, "You nailed those acupuncture techniques you memorized. "Shows you've got a sharp brain. So, just passing the exam? Not enough. You gotta crush it." Josie's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Deal. Can I start shadowing you now?" 6.Chapter 6 The Right Place Claire lit up brighter than a Christmas tree the moment she heard Josie was staying—way happier than Josie herself. "Thank god. I finally got company. You have no idea." Claire tugged her toward the hospital's temp dorms. "Staring down Sean's ice-queen act every day was driving me batshit. "We're crashing at the hospital's intern housing—got the whole room to myself. Metal bunk bed, bedding's all set. I've got fresh sheets and a duvet cover stashed away—we'll swap 'em out once we get there. "For these two days, Professor Wilcourt has consultations. We're following her around to gain some experience. If you don't have classes, you can stick around for a few more days. "Oh, right, what's your major? Have you finished your courses? Why not intern over there?" Claire's questions reminded Josie of Professor Lawson and her teammates, but she wasn't upset about it; instead, she felt happy about taking this step. Second go-round at life, she'd staked everything to dodge last life's tragedy. Changing majors? That was her first real move to swerve clear of all that. Claire's warmth and easygoing nature helped ease Josie's awkwardness. "I'm majoring in cytology under Professor David Lawson. And he has plenty of interns," she replied. Even though Claire was enthusiastic, she knew how to keep things appropriate and didn't pry further. "You're right; it's better to be a main player here rather than an invisible one in Professor Lawson's team. "With fewer students under Professor Wilcourt, each one gets more attention. You came to the right place." "Yeah." Josie smiled, feeling inexplicably cheerful. As they talked, they arrived at the dormitory. After helping her settle in, Claire pulled her off to eat. They went to the hospital cafeteria. On their way there, Josie messaged her roommate Adeline, telling her that she'd be staying at the hospital for a couple of days. Just as her thumb hovered over the power button, the screen blazed to life: Aiden Brown! Josie's pretty eyes didn't even flicker at the name. Dead calm, she hit mute and then tossed the phone back into her purse like yesterday's trash. "Why aren't you answering?" Claire glanced at her. Josie smiled. "It's nothing important. Let's go eat." Compared to eating, Aiden was totally irrelevant. ***** Underneath the girls' dormitory building at Aloville Medical School, Aiden watched his darkening screen with a frown. "She didn't answer!" "Josie is getting more disrespectful by the day! She doesn't even pick up your calls now! What does she think she's doing?" Kyle grumbled angrily, "Doesn't she think we'd still try to make amends after how she treated Natalie?" "Kyle, please hold your tongue," Vincent said irritably. "Josie isn't some backstabber! She owned up to Natalie and took her lumps already. Don't drag her like this." Kyle snapped, "My fault now? This afternoon, I hauled my ass to the archives to help. All I said was 'Just apologize to Aiden.' "Next thing I know, she blew me off and stormed out. Left the archives a total mess. "Wouldn't have dragged you all here if I wasn't terrified she'd get penalized again. And now? Screening calls—unbelievable!" Kyle's words slammed a thick silence over the others. Their faces soured like milk left out, blame for Josie already brewing. "I'll call her roommates." Jaden took out his phone. The call ended quickly. He looked at Kyle with a serious face. "You said Josie left because she was mad at you. But didn't you notice that she's sick?" "What happened?" Aiden's original dark expression softened slightly. Jaden sighed. "Her roommate said she went straight to the hospital after coming back this afternoon. She seems to be admitted and won't be able to come back soon." "Could it be fake? When I saw her this afternoon, she seemed fine." Kyle didn't believe it. Vincent glared at him. "Then would she need to bribe a doctor into admitting her for two days?" "Who knows if she's really in the hospital? Otherwise, why wouldn't she even answer calls?" Kyle snapped. Aiden shot a glance at the others. "Enough, all of you. Josie has always been frugal and doesn't have many friends in Aloville. If she weren't hospitalized, she would have been back at school by now." "Jaden, go find out which hospital she's in so we can visit her. How did she suddenly get sick?" Just as Jaden was about to leave, Gavin pulled him back. "Jaden, remember we promised to have dinner with Natalie tonight? She just got back to campus and was in a fragile state. "The professor said she can't handle any more stress. If we all go visit Josie—" Before he could finish, Aiden interrupted, "You're right; we can't break our promise to Natalie. Let's put Josie on hold for now. "She knows how to take care of herself and probably doesn't need us worrying too much." When Vincent heard this, his expression darkened. "But what about the archives? With her hospitalized, who knows when those files will be sorted? Professor Lawson might be angry." "She already upset the professor once; if this delays our project further, she's going to be kicked off the team." Aiden pressed his temples. "These years working together have built up trust between us; I don't want her to leave now. We'll all go help out at the archives." Hearing this, the others exchanged looks and all agreed accordingly. ***** Josie didn't know that the job that gave her a stomach problem in her previous life was now taken care of by Aiden and others. She had just finished dinner with Claire and was back at her dorm. Delilah assigned them homework during dinner, and as soon as they got back, Claire grabbed her laptop and hadn't said a word since. Josie wasn't much of a talker anyway. After opening her laptop, she didn't rush to do the homework but wrote an email to quit David's research team first. In her previous life, after getting disciplined, she did a lot to win back the seniors and David's trust. Eventually, they agreed to let her join the team. Once in, her internship file fell into David's hands. With the disciplinary record, she had to bend over backward to please him for a good job after graduation. She did all the dirtiest and most tiring work in the team and even broke through several research bottlenecks. But in the end, her evaluation only said: [Quiet and not very professional; suitable for administrative and basic research; not fit for academic research!] Seeing this, she went to confront David, who replied, "I can't allow someone with such poor morals into an academic lab; I have to be responsible for the entire medical field." Such high-minded words. But Josie was naive back then. She thought David misunderstood her and tried hard to change his impression, doing thankless tasks until they sent her to prison. Now, she wouldn't give David another chance to control her. Her internship report would be perfect, and the evaluation must be fair and true. With this thought, Josie hit Enter and sent the email to David. At that moment, it felt like a weight was lifted off her chest.

Suddenly, he stilled, and I felt his c***’s head growing inside me. Like it was a knot to keep me in place. Pain surged. “What is happening?” I whimpered. “Nothing much. It’s just my knot, baby!” he growled. ---- Five years ago, Bella Williams lost everything. Three days before her wedding, she caught her fiancé having sex with her stepsister on his bed, in his home. Betrayed and heartbroken, she spent that reckless night with a stranger who burned into her memory. By dawn, she was gone to never face him again. Furious by her “mistake” her family abandons her. Now Bella is a single mother of two bright, beautiful pups. *** Three days before the wedding, I went to try on my gown. It was a white dress with an elaborate design with lots of laces and tulle on the skirt. As the seamstress pinned the sides and adjusted the length, I looked in the mirror and felt excited. I wanted to show it to Craig, and see his face light up when he saw it. There was nothing I didn’t share with him. Lucy, my stepmother, looked me over and smiled thinly. “You look good, Bella,” she said quietly. “Thanks mom!” I replied. “Can I show this to Craig?” She shook her head. “No, we follow the rules. It's a bad omen for the bride and groom to meet so close to the wedding.” “Please mom,” I whined. “I won’t show it on me. Just the dress in the box. He’ll be so happy. It’s only bad to meet the day before,” I added. “Not three days before.” “It’s bad,” she said firmly. “You will see him at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow with everyone. And that’s it!” I didn’t want to argue because Lucy was pretty stubborn usually. I sighed and nodded. “Okay…” But the excitement stayed with me. It felt like bubbles in my chest. After the fitting, I held the garment bag and thought about Craig’s smile. I told myself I would be quick. I would show him the dress, still in the bag, then come right back fast. Lucy wouldn’t even come to know. I fell for Craig when I was a sophomore in college. He was a senior. He helped me carry books on a rainy day and walked me to the parking lot. We started texting, then going for coffee. He asked about my classes and remembered small things. I liked that, and over time I started to love him. After college, he kept seeing me. We met each other’s families. My father, Jared Williams, ran a fashion house, so there were events and shows. Craig came with me, smiled for photos, and held my hand. He was the only heir of his parents with two hotels. The night he proposed, we were on the terrace of his parents’ hotel. There were lights and music. He went down on one knee with a ring. I was so thrilled that I said yes right away. We fixed a wedding date with our families. We booked the hall, picked flowers, and chose the cake. I kept a list for everything, doing things personally even though my father had a fleet of personnel to work for me. As soon as Lucy left our wedding boutique, I snuck out. I put the gown in my car and drove to Craig’s apartment. I had a key he gave me months ago. He had said, “Use it when you want to surprise me.” I smiled at the memory. The building had a private elevator. I rode up and stepped into his foyer. The living room was quiet. I set the garment bag on the sofa and called out softly, “Craig?” There was no answer. His shoes were by the door, and his jacket was on a chair. He had to be home. I walked down the hall toward the bedroom. As I got closer, I saw a trail of clothes on the floor. A red lace top, a silk skirt, bra and panties, and a pair of heels tipped on their sides. I stopped and blinked. It looked like someone undressed in a hurry. I smiled to myself. “Must be Evan,” I whispered. Craig’s younger cousin liked to drop by without warning with a date. I rolled my eyes and decided to leave. I picked up the garment bag and turned to go when I heard a soft sound. It was a low breathy moan from Craig’s bedroom. Feeling embarrassed, I increased my pace. But froze the next moment when a man’s voice came through the door, rough and loud. “Mayaaaa!” Shock rippled through me and I stopped moving. Was that Craig’s voice? No, God, no. My first thought was that I misheard. My stepsister, Maya, hadn’t come back to the city in four years. She never showed her face to us even once ever since she left after that fight. I turned over my shoulder to look at the half-closed bedroom door. Despite myself, I turned back. I reached and saw that the door was slightly open. The room was dim, but I could see enough. Craig was in bed with a woman. Her long brown hair fell across the pillow. He was holding her, naked, and moving inside her. He said her name again, “Oh, Maya!” Everything in me went quiet as my mind numbed in shock. I stood there for a few seconds, my hands turning clammy, my heart thundering. Craig and Maya together? When did this happen? I had read about this happening in books. You know, just fiction. But this cliché happened in real life as well? The world tilted so fast I felt dizzy. I slapped my hand on my mouth to stop the sound of my gasp. My mind clicked through little details when I turned around. I noticed a glass of water on the nightstand was half full. There was a smudge of lipstick on the rim. There was a small backpack in the corner with a labubu doll, which was Maya’s. I stepped back, the hallway suddenly too long, the air too thin. I couldn’t breathe. Unable to process the shock, I turned and went back to the living room. I picked up the garment bag with both hands, opened the door, and walked out. Inside the elevator, I looked at the reflection of my 23 year old self. Through my pale face, my green eyes stared at me, my blond hair sticking to my face, which was covered with sweat. It was then that I broke down. A sob tore from me making my body shudder. The betrayal was too much to bear. But anger also surged through me, and suddenly I wanted to confront them. How could they do this to me? So without thinking twice, I went back to his apartment to confront them. A Video Bella I stood in the hallway and tried to breathe, wondering what I was doing? Should I go in? My confidence wavered. But I wanted to open the door and shout at them, make them face me. I wanted to ask why, since when, and how could they betray me. I wanted to look at Maya and say, “You stole my fiancé.” My steps faltered because I also knew how Maya was. She would deny everything in front of our father. She would say I was jealous and that I was lying. Just like last time. She would cry like she had done before. Just before leaving home, she played a victim card, making me look like the villain of her life. But I wanted to ask Craig if any of the last five years meant anything. Gathering courage and wiping my tears, I walked into the apartment. Just as I reached outside the bedroom, I heard Maya’s soft and smug voice. She said, “You’ve kept it a secret for four years. I’m so proud of you, Craig. You’re awesome! I only wanted to finish college and then marry you. I couldn’t bear to see my stepsister have your kids.” Craig laughed. “Bella’s a moron,” he said. “She’s so blind in love with me she never notices anything. It was easy to manipulate her.” Manipulate me? I stood still and held my breath, my tears silently slipping from my eyes once again. Maya chuckled and spoke again in a sultry voice, “I’m waiting for your divorce. Then we can start our own business. I’ve been dreaming about it for so long!” Craig sounded pleased. “Of course, love. I’ll divorce Bella in a month. After the wedding, she gets her twenty-million inheritance. And if she divorces within six months, the money goes to her husband. That’s what her grandfather wrote in his will. So, it will all come to us, baby. I only have to tolerate her for a month more.” I pressed my palm to the wall because I felt like I might fall. My heart pounded in my ears. I knew about my inheritance. Everyone in the family knew that I would get it after marriage and lose it if I divorced within six months. Maya chuckled. “You're smart, Craig Jones. Gosh, I hate seeing her face. She walks around the house like she owns everything. The bitch doesn’t know how fast her world is going to crumble. Then I will exact my revenge. After she loses her inheritance, her father will remove her from his will also,” she snickered. Craig laughed hard. “You’re wicked, Maya. Just be patient for a few more weeks, baby. Then we will have it all!” They had planned my downfall carefully for so long. If I confronted them, it would be the most foolish thing to do. “Come, ride me, baby!” Craig said. “Let’s celebrate!” Anger inside me erupted like a volcano. Celebrate my downfall? I wanted to teach them a lesson now. So I took out my phone, and started recording them. If I sent this video to my father, I was sure he would call off the marriage. “Oh baby, you’re so good!” Craig said as Maya moved on him. My hand shook so hard in anger that a few seconds later, my phone slipped down. Craig snapped his head toward me. “Bella!” he gasped, his eyes going wide. Maya also turned sharply to see me, and her mouth dropped open. “Shit!” I picked up the phone and rushed out. Craig removed Maya from him and came after me. “Bella, Bella!” “I don’t want to hear a thing from you!” I shouted, as I scrambled to send the video to Daddy. “Stop!” he shouted. “Don’t!” I opened the door. “You both deserve to be exposed!” “Stop this bullshit, Bella!” he roared. “No one will marry you except me! Your marriage with me is written in stone!” “I’d rather die than marry you, cheater!” I shouted back through my tears. I pressed the button to send the video to my father. Craig came after me. But I was out of the door by then. He stood naked on the door of his apartment, watching me leave. “Bellaaaa!” he roared. A few people came out of their apartments hearing the commotion. Good. They would see him naked, dripping in her juices. I left the apartment building as fast as I could, and went to my car. On the road, the city lights blurred a little. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. My mind played back the words I had just heard. ‘It was a secret for five years’. ‘Divorce in a month’. ‘Twenty million inheritance gone’. ‘Tolerate her for a month more’. ‘I rubbed my chest as the betrayal hurt deep’. I gripped the steering wheel. I thought about Lucy and her firmly denying me to meet Craig. Did she know? Was she helping them keep me away so I would not see anything? So that their plan was executed smoothly? Then I thought about my father. If I called him now and told him what I saw, what I heard, would he believe me? No, he wouldn’t. That’s why I sent the video proof. He loved me, but he thought I was an “entitled brat.” If I hadn’t recorded them in the act, Maya would lie through her teeth in front of him just to get the money. I didn’t trust Craig either. He would rather watch me suffer and make the marriage more miserable. I remembered how four years ago, after high school, Maya left the house after a fight. She told everyone I was the reason. The house was full of tension for weeks. My father chose to calm Lucy and Maya instead of me. But despite his efforts, Maya left never to return. Since then, Daddy treated me like I might start another problem at any moment. He watched me like I was a risk to manage. He scolded me often because of Maya. I remembered that fight like it happened yesterday. Maya had cried so much that day, her sobs filled every corner of the house. She stood in front of my father and her mother, acting like she was the victim. She said she would always be a stepsister and that I could never accept her. Then, with a trembling voice, she offered to leave the house so I could live “comfortably.” Lucy’s eyes had filled with tears, but she didn’t protest. She only lowered her head and suffered quietly, as if Maya’s sacrifice was breaking her heart. But the truth was different. The fight started because on the last day of our school, I had caught Maya with Luke. I had confessed to her a week before that I liked Luke. I had seen her sitting close to him, cuddling him, kissing him on his lips. When I confronted her later, she smiled in a way she wasn’t ashamed. On the contrary, she flaunted her “victory”. “He never liked you!” she had said, flicking her hair. The betrayal from Luke was nothing compared to the one from Maya. “You can have him,” I replied. I stifled my feelings for Luke right after so that Maya could be with him. But I don’t know why Maya came home and created the drama, accusing me of just the opposite? She told our parents that it was me who kissed her boyfriend, Luke, and I hated her for being happy. My father believed her and scolded me to be more adjusting. But Maya left for college nonetheless, trapping me into guilt all this while. It was during that painful time that Craig, Luke’s friend, stepped in. He comforted me, chased after me, and slowly, I fell in love with him. But now Maya had her claws in Craig as well. It was like she wanted to snatch everything I cherished. You'll Be Safe Bella I didn’t know where to go after leaving Craig’s apartment. My chest still hurt deep from the betrayal, and my thoughts kept circling the same question—how could Maya do this to me again? Before I knew it, I was parking in front of the Phoenix Mall, the largest and grandest mall in the city. It had chains across the world, and I had heard that its CEO, Scott Moore, was a secretive sharp billionaire bachelor. He was arrogant, and cold, more handsome than God, and had hundreds of girls swooning over him. I wandered through the bright halls of the mall and walked into a quiet café. The smell of coffee and baked bread wafted in the air. I ordered a cappuccino and sat at a small table by the window. The moment the cup was in my hands, tears started to fall again. I tried to wipe them quickly, but they kept coming. I cried quietly, hoping no one noticed. I couldn’t believe my life had come to this. How was I supposed to stop a marriage my whole family had already planned? Would my father believe the video content? I wondered if I should make the video viral. Just as I lowered my head to sip my coffee, the door opened, and two men walked in. My heart skipped. It was Luke and Mark, Craig’s friends. Luke was the same boy who I liked in high school before Maya destroyed it all. I quickly bent my head lower, hoping they wouldn’t notice me. They sat two tables behind me, talking and laughing. I couldn’t help but overhear them. “Bella has always been a moron,” Luke chuckled, stirring his coffee. “She never noticed Craig and Maya were in love. Stupid blind brat. Maya is back in town and she'll be staying with me for a while.” Mark laughed loudly. “But it works for us, Luke. Craig smartly handled Bella after you goofed up with her. Once he gets Bella’s inheritance, we’re set. Our contracts with him are already drafted. The moment the money comes, we’ll sign. Our businesses will finally take off. Only a month before final goodbye to the bitch!” They both laughed again. My blood went cold. I clutched my cup so tightly I thought it might break. Their words sank in slowly but clearly. They were all in on it. Craig, Maya, Luke, and Mark. They weren’t just betraying me with love. They were plotting around my inheritance. My stomach twisted, bitterness coating my soul. This all was happening behind my back ever since high school, and like a fool, I never came to know. How gullible I was? Anger burned in my chest. I wanted to go to their table and confront them, scream that I had come to know it all. On an impulse, I pushed my chair back and stood up quickly. But the moment I turned, I collided with someone. Arms gripped me instantly to stop me from falling. I craned my neck up, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. A beautiful man, towering over me with broad shoulders, filled the space. He was wearing a pinstripe suit. His face was striking with a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and dark eyes so intense they seemed to glow. His lips were firm and bow-shaped, his nose straight, his black hair falling just slightly across his forehead. He looked unreal, like a man who didn’t belong to this world. Like a king who ruled the world. I noticed that there was complete silence in the café now. In that instant, an idea lit up in my mind. A reckless, desperate plan that could actually break the marriage. I tilted my head slightly, giving Luke and Mark a sidelong glance, then turned back to the man. Without giving myself time to think, I pressed my lips against his. He growled low in his throat as his hand shot out and grabbed me by the waist, pulling me close. It was protective, possessive, and startling all at once. My body went stiff in his arms, but from the corner of my eyes, I saw Luke and Mark watching us. Their mouths had fallen open. Everyone in the café had turned to stare. The kiss was quick at first, just enough for everyone to see. I whispered against his lips, “Please, could you keep up the act for a minute?” To my surprise, he didn’t push me away. Instead, his hand tightened on my waist, and he kissed me back. His lips were warm and commanding. He deepened the kiss, and the world around me blurred. His kiss was passionate, strong, almost overwhelming. For a moment, I forgot why I even started it. I felt my knees weaken, and I had to hold on to his shirt to stay steady. When we finally broke apart, the café was completely silent. My lips tingled, my cheeks burned, and I couldn’t get a hold of myself. Like my whole body was on fire. But I knew Luke and Mark had seen everything. Now they would inform Craig or my father about it. So if the video didn’t work, this would. “Could you please walk out with me from the café?” I asked softly. “I want them to see it clearly,” I said, darting my eyes to Luke and Mark. “Do you want me to make them disappear from the face of the earth?” he asked seriously, his intense eyes locked on mine. My mouth dropped. Was he a mafia boss? I let out a nervous chuckle. “N-no!” Without waiting, he grabbed my wrist and walked with me toward the door. I glanced back. Luke and Mark had jumped up, chasing us. Panic rushed through me. I pulled closer to the man and whispered urgently, “Please, help me. Hide me for a few hours. I want to escape them.” Now I was afraid that they would confront me and manhandle me. His dark eyes cut to me. “You shouldn’t trust strangers,” he said in a low and rough voice. I faltered, my lips parting. I didn’t know what to say. I felt foolish and desperate. But then his eyes softened. “But I’ll save you,” he said. Something in me believed him instantly. I couldn’t explain why. It was pure instinct. He led me quickly to a side hallway I hadn’t even noticed before. At the end was a private elevator, hidden behind mirrored doors. He pressed his palm to a panel, and the doors opened silently. I glanced behind. Luke and Mark were still chasing, and they were closing in. The man pulled me inside with him, still holding my wrist. The doors closed, shutting out the noise, and shutting out everything. My heart pounded in my chest as the elevator began to rise. “Where are we going?” I whispered, half afraid of the answer. He turned his head slightly, his eyes burning into mine. “To my penthouse,” he said. “You’ll be safe there.” Somehow, even with everything I had been through that day, I believed him. Maybe I had a natural penchant for falling into wrong hands. Mate Scott For centuries, the Lycans had ruled the werewolf race. They were stronger, faster, and nearly immortal, and were born kings. But time had not been kind. Wars, disease, and betrayal had cut their numbers until only I remained. I was the last Lycan alive, and I was the last Lycan king of the werewolves. At 28, the weight of my kind rested on my shoulders. In order to survive, we moved into human cities and learned to live among them, blending into their world because we had no choice. We worked like them, dressed like them, and hid our true selves. To the humans, I was only Scott Moore, the young billionaire who owned the chain of Phoenix Malls and countless other businesses. If our true identities were discovered, it would mean the end of us. Every year, Lycans went into a frenzy to rut for a week in order to mate. And it was that time of the year for me. I wanted to fuck every she-wolf or human I came in contact with, but I was restraining myself. I took heavy medication to stop my desires and lust. And the Elders never let me forget my duty especially during this time. They said it was time I took a mate and produced heirs. They told me every day that my bloodline was too important to end with me, and that without me the werewolves would die out. It was me who gave them the power to exist. They wanted me to continue the Lycan line. But they didn’t understand the risk. Being a Lycan was different from being a normal werewolf. My power was stronger, heavier. If a female she-wolf carried my pup, she might not survive the birth. Still, the Elders pushed me. “There are plenty of willing she-wolves,” they said. “They would give their lives for you.” They called it sacrifice. I called it madness. I wasn’t going to kill someone just to satisfy their demand. So I refused, again and again. I didn’t want an heir if it meant killing someone to get it. This discussion again took place in the early morning meeting today. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I listened to them, waiting impatiently to get out of the meeting. As soon as it was done, I walked out of the room, and went for a swim to spend my energy and calm my anger and lust. I had an important meeting with human shareholders to attend next. Thirty minutes later, I reached that meeting with my Beta, Troy. Troy explained a new plan to the shareholders about dividends. I sat at the head of the table, listening intently, when suddenly a scent hit me. It was that of sweet and warm chocolate and cinnamon. The smell was so strong it shook me. My Lycan stirred instantly. How could a chocolate cake smell so good? My throat went dry and my chest tightened. I couldn’t help the urge to eat it right away. I tried to sit still, but the craving grew stronger with every second. My hands clenched on the table. What the hell was happening with me? The smell was pulling me like a chain. I pushed back my chair and stood abruptly. Without a word, I left the meeting. Troy scrambled to follow. “Scott, what’s going on?” he asked as every shareholder looked at me with surprise. I didn’t answer as I strode out of the meeting. The mouthwatering scent filled my lungs, guiding me through the corridors of Phoenix Mall. My Lycan was in full control now. I felt like a predator on the hunt. And that too for a chocolate and cinnamon cake? I loved dark chocolates, but this? My reaction was strange. The trail led me to a quiet café. The smell was strong here. I opened the door and walked to the counter, scanning the cakes that got me so distracted. The girl behind the counter flustered, and blushed. It was a normal reaction of humans when they saw me. I continued to scan the cakes, and that’s when I heard a soft sniffle. I snapped my head in that direction. A human girl sat at a table near the window. Her head was bent, her shoulders small and tense. She was crying quietly, her hand moving to her face again and again to wipe her tears. Before I knew it, my feet carried me in that direction, the smell growing stronger, coiling around my neck like a noose. My Lycan growled one word that shook me to my core. MATE. The urge to rut surged like waves in a storm-tossed sea. ‘Mark her. Claim her. Rut her.’ I froze. My heart hammered in my chest hard. How was this possible? She was human. That couldn’t be right. The Moon Goddess wouldn’t bind me to a human. Yet every cell in my body knew it was true. She was mine. Mine to claim. And I wanted her madly, badly. She would never be able to carry my pups. But who cared? I stared at her. She was so beautiful that I forgot to breathe. She was soft, timid, and fragile-looking. She had disheveled blond hair, framing an innocent face, and eyes so emerald green they shone through her tears. My fingers twitched to feel the curves beneath her pink dress. My Lycan was howling in joy, desire stirring inside him. ‘Take her. Rut her.’ I started moving toward her, my primal nature surging forth. Then, just as I got close, she stood up quickly, turned to the side and bumped into me. Her small body collided with mine, and my arms reacted on their own. I caught her against me, holding her firmly against my chest. The shock of her touch was like electricity sparking through my body. My Lycan roared with triumph. ‘Mark her.’ She looked up at me, her eyes wide. For a second, we just stared at each other. My world tilted on its axis and then started rotating at a dizzying speed. She glanced over my shoulder. I turned slightly and saw two men watching her. They were sitting a few tables away, staring in shock. My Lycan’s rage flared at once. Whoever they were, they had made her cry. For that alone, I wanted them dead. Before I could do anything, she grabbed my shirt and kissed me, shocking the hell out of me. I froze. Then I felt her soft lips against mine, desperate and trembling, and everything inside me snapped. I never wanted the kiss to end. I hated it when she pulled away. She whispered quickly against my lips. “Please, bear with me. Keep up the act for a minute.” She thought this was an act? She had no idea what I was going through. But I saw the fear in her eyes, the desperation. I nodded. I would play along, for now. ‘No. Mark her. Rut her.’ Her enemies were still watching. My anger burned hot. So I kissed her back possessively, pulling her closer. The taste of her, the warmth of her mouth, the way her hands clutched at me. It all set me on fire, addling my mind. My Lycan howled in pure joy. ‘Ours.’ After our kiss, I led her out of the café, keeping her close. People stared, but no one said a word. Through the mind link, I called Troy. ‘Some men are chasing me. If they try to follow me, stop them. If they resist, kill them.’ ‘Yes, Alpha,’ Troy replied instantly, sounding worried. ‘But where are you? You vanished faster than smoke.’ I gritted my teeth. ‘Near Moon Cafe.’ I didn’t slow down and pulled her with me toward the private elevators only I had access to. She didn’t fight me. Her steps matched mine, small and quick. I felt the trembling in her hand, and I squeezed them softly. The doors slid open, and I guided her inside my penthouse. She looked up at me like a little lamb, unbeknownst that she had walked into a wolf’s den. “You’re safe now,” I said reassuringly. “No one can reach you here.” The doors closed behind us, shutting out the world. For the first time in a long time, I felt calm, satisfied, and grounded. Like I had found what I’d been waiting for all my life. My beautiful mate. In my home. And I wasn’t going to let her go because I was going to announce her to the Elders tomorrow. You Are Divine Bella The elevator opened into a quiet, beautiful penthouse. I didn’t look around much. I went straight to the first couch I saw and sat down. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Tears came again. I tried to wipe them away, but they wouldn’t stop. I didn’t want to show myself as a damsel in distress to a stranger. But what could I do? My chest hurt so much, the betrayal being fresh. He stood a few steps away, watching me. “Do you want something?” he asked softly, carefully. I shook my head. “I-I’ll just leave in some time. Th-thanks for helping me.” He walked to a bar cabinet and came back with a glass of wine. When I didn’t take it, he crouched in front of me, and set it on the table in front of me. In a low voice, he stared into my eyes and said, “Drink. It will calm you.” I picked up the glass, stared at it, and gulped it down. “More?” he asked. When I nodded, he brought the bottle, unscrewed the cap and poured more. It burned a little, warmed my throat, and turned my crying into hiccups. I took another as he watched me without judging, but I saw his jaw tighten once. He went to sit on the armrest of the sofa. After a while, the heat spread through me and blunted the edge of deep sorrow. I felt better. I looked up at him. He was quiet, watching me with his sharp gaze. “My fiancé cheated on me with my stepsister,” I said finally. “We were supposed to marry in three days, and I found them having sex today.” “He doesn’t deserve you,” he growled animalistically. I clenched my teeth and became quiet for a few minutes. Then, I said hesitantly, “I want to ask you something.” “Ask,” he replied, his voice rough, studying me like he was committing my features to his memory. “Am I… pretty enough?” For a second, he was startled. “Pretty? You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he breathed. Then he did the most bizarre thing. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You are so pretty that I can have sex with you right now.” My lips parted in surprise at his blatant readiness. Like the word hesitation didn’t exist in his dictionary? I asked, “Do you offer yourself for sex to strangers like this?” His gaze became more intense. “No, usually, it’s the strangers who offer themselves to me every time. But I have offered myself to anyone for the first time. You can take advantage of my body. You know, like revenge sex?” I licked my lip, blushing. I wanted to end this feeling of feeling used. He was staring at me to gauge my reaction. I wanted to refuse even though the idea of revenge sex was enticing. He insisted, “Trust me, I’d be happy to be used by you.” I blushed harder, and bit my bottom lip. He came forward, crouched in front me and pulled my bottom lip out. “You won’t regret it,” he said, watching my lips. He was so close that his body’s heat seeped inside me. My breath faltered. I felt like I was being hypnotized by him. What was he doing to me? “Umm…” An ache developed between my thighs. Craig was never able to elicit this reaction in me. His nostrils flared as he searched my face a moment longer. “I won’t touch you unless you want it,” he said, becoming tense. I gulped down more wine, and then nodded, “Okay!” I think it was the wine speaking on my behalf. His shoulders eased as if he was holding tension inside him. He got up, slid one arm under my knees and the other behind my back, and lifted me like I weighed nothing. I gasped as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Up close, he was even more beautiful. Being carried by him felt oddly safe. He walked into a bedroom that was exquisitely furnished. He set me on the edge of the bed and took a step back, giving me space. “We can stop at any time,” he said as if through a lot of restraint. “You only have to say the word.” I looked at my hands, then at him. I stood and reached for the zipper of my dress. My fingers fumbled. He came close and eased the zipper down without touching my skin. The dress slid to the floor. I stood there in simple lingerie, feeling shy. His breath hitched as he took my body in. “You are divine,” he said, like he meant every word. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.” I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. He moved with a calm I needed, speaking to me in short, steady sentences that told me I was safe, and in control. When he kissed me, it wasn’t rushed. He waited for me to respond. When I did, he deepened it, but always let me lead. He removed his clothes, and when we finally lay down naked, he paused again. “Are you still sure?” “Yes,” I said as I moved my fingers over his tattooed body. There was a tattoo of a wolf on his chest with vines that ran all the way to his shoulders and arms. God must have taken his time to sculpt this masterpiece. He cupped my face and kissed me. When his lips met mine, and the world seemed to vanish. My breath hitched, my heart racing as warmth spread through me. His mouth moved against mine desperately with a hunger that made me tremble, like he couldn’t get enough of me. I found myself melting into his arms, my fingers clutching at him. The taste of him was sweet and intoxicating, making me forget everything but the fire between us. Every second his kiss pulled me deeper into him, until I no longer knew where I ended and he began. It was pure, consuming passion. He went lower to my breasts and sucked my nipples hard. My body hummed with need so intense that I whimpered. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured reverently. He went lower, lower and kissed my belly button. “Ah!” I moaned. He went down to my sex, and stared at it for a long moment. And then he blew hot air over it, and parted my lips.

They say the Moon Goddess gives every wolf three chances at love. Three chances to find the mate who completes your soul. I already wasted two. Both times, I was rejected. Both times, my mates turned to my twin sister, Bianca. Bianca—the golden girl. She smiles, she shines, she wins hearts without trying. And me? Ember. The warrior. The mistake. The unwanted. I fight battles instead of batting my lashes. I wear scars instead of jewels. And for that, I was abandoned. Now, for the third time, my wolf Nara whispers inside me. “He’s close. Our mate is here.” But instead of joy, fear slams into my chest. Because if I’m rejected again, the Goddess will take Nara away. And without her, I’ll lose half my soul. Still, fate doesn’t ask what I want. One night, I followed the pull into a dark, abandoned hall. And there, a stranger’s hands grabbed me, pressing me against the wall. The bond snapped into place like fire in my blood. His scent—pine, musk, leather—flooded me, drowning my resolve. His lips crashed onto mine, wild and claiming. His teeth sank into my skin, marking me as his. I told myself I would resist. But in his arms, my body betrayed me. I shattered under his touch, consumed by a pleasure I had sworn never to feel again. And when I opened my eyes… my world collapsed. Prince Kaine. The fiercest son of the Alpha King. The man my sister Bianca swore to marry. And now—he bears my mark on his skin. How can I survive this? If he claims me, Bianca will destroy me. If he rejects me, I will lose my wolf forever. And yet, every time he looks at me, my mark burns hotter, reminding me of the truth— That no matter how hard I fight it, I am already his. I woke up in silk sheets that weren’t mine. The faint scent of pine and leather still clung to the air. And beside me—Prince Kaine, sleeping like he owned the world. Panic clawed at my chest. I had to leave. If he knew I was his mate, he would reject me… and I would lose Nara forever. So I crept out of that palace room, heart hammering with every step. The hallway was empty, the dawn light weak and gray. I told myself no one saw me. I told myself I could bury the bond. But the moment I reached home, Bianca was waiting. Her smirk cut sharper than a knife. “Out so late, sister? Didn’t know you were sneaking around like a man.” My throat tightened, but I forced a smile. “Patrol duty.” She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t believe me. Later that day, everything went wrong. The guards called my name. “You are to report to the palace for questioning.” My blood froze. Did Kaine already know? Or worse—did he plan to expose me? When I entered the chamber, thirty women stood in line. All summoned. All suspects. The head guard’s voice cracked like a whip. “If you are guilty, you better pray we don’t find out.” I kept my head low. I prayed the potion I drank that morning would suppress the bond. But then the doors opened. And Prince Kaine walked in. The room fell silent. His gaze swept across the line of women. Until it landed on me. “Look up.” His voice was a command that rattled through my bones. My pulse thundered. Did he recognize me? Did he feel it too? I forced myself to lift my chin, my eyes locking with his. And for one suspended moment— I swore the whole world stopped. His eyes locked on mine, sharp as blades. The air around us grew heavy, as if the entire hall waited for his verdict. “What is your name?” His voice was low, dangerous, a growl more than a question. “Ember,” I forced out, my throat dry. For a moment, confusion flickered in his gaze. A woman… in the guard’s uniform. The first female admitted to the Royal Guard. Relief swept through me. Maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t recognized me from that night. But then, the Captain of the Guard stepped forward. “Alpha, she shouldn’t be here. She’s weak. I’ll have her removed.” The words stung, but before I could defend myself, Kaine’s voice thundered. “Do not presume to know what I am thinking, Captain.” The room froze. Even Bianca would have quivered under that tone. For the first time in my life, someone had silenced my detractors on my behalf. Nara whispered inside me, “Maybe… he won’t reject us.” But I shut her out. Hope is dangerous. Then Bianca’s voice sliced through the silence. “No!” Every head turned. She stood, cheeks flushed with false concern. “Alpha, Ember is my sister. She is… fragile. My family’s hope is for her to find her mate and return home, not play soldier in the palace.” My jaw clenched. Her words were poison wrapped in honey. I braced myself for Kaine to agree, to cast me aside just like everyone else. But instead, his gaze turned cold. “If you wish to be Luna, you must abandon such shallow views. Clearly, you are not qualified yet.” Bianca’s face paled, her perfect smile cracking. For once, she was the one humiliated. And then Kaine turned back to me. “Ember,” he said, voice final, commanding. “You will be my personal guard.” The words crashed over me like a storm. My heart slammed against my ribs. His personal guard? That meant constant proximity. His scent, his presence, his touch—every day. The very bond I was desperate to hide could consume me whole. But under his gaze, I could only bow my head. “Yes, Alpha.” From that moment, my life was no longer my own. I was Prince Kaine’s shadow— Standing guard outside his office, following him through the palace, feeling his presence like a fire against my skin. Every time he walked past me, my mark burned. Every time his hand brushed mine, the bond flared, threatening to expose me. And every night, I told myself the same lie: I can control this. I can survive this. But the palace whispered. Rumors spread like wildfire. “They say the Prince has gone feral.” “They say he attacked a woman in the night.” My stomach twisted, because I knew the truth: That woman was me. Kaine heard the whispers too. And instead of denying them, he grew colder, sharper—like a blade honed for war. One evening, his Beta, Jake, warned him. “Your engagement banquet is coming. If enemies strike, it will be there.” Kaine’s eyes landed on me. “Ember. You will lead the security.” The words stole my breath. “Alpha… I’m only a trainee.” “That is exactly why I chose you,” he said. “You are untainted. And I trust you.” Trust. Such a simple word, yet it cracked my armor. No one had ever trusted me. Not my father. Not my sister. Not even my former mates. But Kaine did. The night of the banquet arrived. The palace glittered with gold and glass, nobles draped in silk and jewels. I stood at the edge of the hall, every muscle tense, scanning for danger. And then—I felt it. His gaze. Across the room, Kaine’s eyes locked on me, burning with something I couldn’t name. Possession. Hunger. Recognition. I looked away, forcing myself to focus on my duty. But the mark on my skin throbbed like a living flame, betraying me with every heartbeat. If anyone saw it—if Bianca saw it—everything would end. And then, through the crowd, Bianca appeared. Glittering, flawless, draped in the gown she had chosen to seduce him. She slid her arm into Kaine’s with a smile. “Your Highness,” she purred, “shall we greet our guests together?” I froze, my hand tightening on my weapon. Because in that moment, my bond screamed the truth. Kaine was mine. But in front of the entire court… He was about to choose her. The music swelled, crystal glasses clinking as nobles laughed. On the surface, it was a perfect night. But beneath the golden chandeliers, danger pulsed like a heartbeat. I scanned the hall, every sense on edge. Then—a flicker of movement. A shadow slipping between pillars, too swift, too precise. Assassin. “Down!” I shouted, shoving Kaine back just as an arrow sliced the air. Gasps erupted, the hall descending into chaos. Guards drew blades, guests screamed, Bianca clutched her dress in feigned terror. But Kaine? His eyes never left me. Even as steel clashed, even as blood hit the marble floor, he looked at me like I was the only truth in the room. When the danger passed, he strode forward, seizing my wrist. The mark on my skin ignited under his touch, burning so hot I almost cried out. “Why does the bond react to you?” he demanded, his voice rough, unyielding. I froze, torn between survival and confession. If I admitted it, he could reject me. If I denied it, the bond itself might betray me. Then Bianca’s voice sliced in, sweet and poisonous. “Because she’s jealous, Your Highness. She’s always wanted what’s mine.” She yanked her sleeve down, baring the glowing Royal Mark on her shoulder. The crowd gasped. My stomach dropped. Impossible. That mark should have been mine. How had she stolen it? How could she bear proof of a bond that belonged to me? Kaine’s grip on me tightened, his jaw clenched. Between us, the truth sparked, dangerous and undeniable. One of us was lying. One of us carried the real bond. And the entire court was watching. “Ember,” Kaine’s voice rumbled low, shaking through my bones. “You will not leave my side. From this moment, you belong to me—until I decide otherwise.” The hall gasped again, Bianca’s smile faltered, and my wolf Nara howled inside me. Because whether it was a claim, a trap, or a promise… I had just become the Prince’s prisoner. Or his chosen mate. And either way— My life would never be the same.