u/Michelleluvs2read

Chapter 1 3.7 Dollars

'Oh God, if only I could win the lottery,' Luna Jefferson thought, her mind drifting into a desperate daydream. 'If I hit a fifteen-million-dollar jackpot, the first thing I'd do is buy a luxury riverview penthouse downtown.

'Then I'd snap up a few commercial properties and spend the rest of my days as a carefree landlady. No more catching the crack-of-dawn subway.

'I could sleep in until noon, tick off every Michelin-starred restaurant in Ancelens, and just travel the country whenever boredom struck. Well, even 1.5 million would be life-changing.

'Honestly, right now, even 30 thousand, or even 3 thousand dollars, would be enough to rescue me from this nightmare.'

But reality was cruel as Luna stared at her bank account balance. It was exactly 444.7 dollars.

'Well, at least it isn't a flat zero,' she thought.

Her phone vibrated, shattering her daydream. The moment she answered, her adoptive mother, Vivian Chandler, cried out.

"Luna, I can't take it anymore. I work so hard every day taking care of our family, and your dad lost 1,000 dollars playing cards.

"My back hurts so much that I can't even get out of bed, and now I don't even have money for groceries. I really don't want to live anymore," Vivian said.

Luna remained silent for a long moment before she spoke. "Didn't I just send you 300 dollars last week? I really don't have any money left."

Vivian's voice instantly shrieked. "I knew it. Every single one of you is so ungrateful. I should have never brought you home from the streets.

"I just couldn't bear to leave you when it was snowing so hard and you were freezing to death."

Luna had heard this story many times. She used to feel uneasy about it, but her adoptive father, Callum Chandler, had accidentally let the truth slip one night when he was drunk.

She hadn't been pick up from the snow at all; they had adopted her from a children's home.

They had been unable to conceive for years, and a fortune teller told them they were never meant to have children.

The only way to break the curse was to adopt an orphan destined to have siblings.

The fortune teller proved to be right. The year after adopting Luna, Vivian became pregnant, giving birth to a daughter/and she gave birth to a daughter.

However, from that moment on, that home became Luna's living hell.

Once they had their biological daughter, Luna was demoted to a maid. Whenever she dared to push back, her adoptive parents would throw their supposed kindness back in her face.

When she started college, they didn't give a single penny toward her tuition or living expenses, forcing her to work part-time jobs.

While other people in their twenties lived glamorous lives on social media, Luna only had an endless cycle of shifts.

She was so exhausted every day that she could barely crawl into bed. And every time she saved a little, some new bill would come along and wipe it out.

Luna hung up the phone and let out a self-deprecating laugh. Perhaps she was just destined to be poor. Still, she had no intention of always giving money to her adoptive parents.

She did the math. Over the fifteen years from the age of three to eighteen, her adoptive parents had spent 50 thousand dollars on her at most.

Yet ever since she started college, they had demanded money from her, using either their daughter Harper Chandler's illnesses or broken household items as excuses.

Luna opened her ledger and discovered she had transferred 49,300 dollars to them over the past four years.

Adding the 300 dollars she was given last week, she was only 400 dollars short.

Luna compiled the screenshots of her transfer history and sent them to Vivian along with a 400 dollars digital payment. [Fifteen years, 50 thousand dollars. We are even now. Don't contact me again.]

She quickly blocked her adoptive parents' contacts and left all the family group chats.

It felt amazing. She had wanted to do this for a long time. Having paid back the final 400 dollars today, she practically felt independent.

However, looking at the remaining 44.7 dollars in her bank account, Luna can't bring herself to smile anymore.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts since her internship salary would be deposited next Monday anyway.

She was currently a senior intern living in the school dorms, and her biggest expense was food.

She was used to eating discounted food and cheap takeout. Worst case, she'd just skip a few meals over the next couple of days and call it a diet.

The next second, a notification popped up in her dorm group chat.

Dorm Manager: [Under the new university regulations this year, students are strictly prohibited from staying in the dorms during winter and summer breaks. Students who haven't left for home must vacate the premises today. Water and electricity will be cut off starting tomorrow.]

'What the hell? I'm so screwed,' Luna thought. She gasped as she realized she didn't even have a place to live anymore.

Luna forced herself to calm down and quickly think of a solution.

Her internship salary next Monday would be 1,300 dollars. She had worked her butt off doing overtime for the company for an entire month, so asking for an advance on her paycheck shouldn't be unreasonable.

Luna pushed open the breakroom door, gathered her courage, and walked into the HR office.

Adrian Davis was playing a puzzle game, his heavy frame making the chair groan beneath him.

"Well, well, look who it is. If it isn't Luna from the Planning Department," Adrian said, giving her a once-over with his shifty eyes. "What brings you to my office?"

A wave of disgust washed over Luna. Adrian was usually nowhere to be found, yet she wondered why he happened to be at his desk today.

There had always been rumors around the office about him groping many of the young female interns.

Luna had only managed to avoid trouble because she worked in a different department.

She took a deep breath and spoke. "Mr. Davis, I'm here to ask if I can get an advance on this month's salary."

Adrian clicked his tongue and stroked his chin with his right hand.

He said, "Well, it's not that I don't want to help you. The company has strict regulations, and payday is payday. However, I'm hosting a dinner party tonight. If you are willing to join us, Luna..."

He let out a sleazy chuckle. "Giving you a 3,000 bonus won't be a problem at all."

Suppressing her revulsion, Luna replied politely, "If an advance isn't possible, I'll just head back to work."

"Wait a minute." Adrian raised his voice. "Luna, do you not understand your place here? You are just a lowly intern, yet you dare to reject me?

"Let me tell you something. You are coming tonight whether you want to or not. Otherwise, I will fire you."

Luna rolled her eyes inwardly. 'This is the final straw. There is no need to endure this any longer.'

She grabbed the cup from the desk and poured the hot coffee directly over Adrian's balding head.

"Damn. Luna. Are you insane?" Adrian shouted.

Luna dusted off her hands. She had been taking crap all day, and she wasn't going to take it anymore.

"You want to fire me? Go ahead," she said. "If I knew this company was such a dumpster fire, I would have never taken this job anyway. Keep your money and buy yourself a life, you sleazy creep."

Luna grabbed her backpack and walked straight out of the company doors.

Sometimes life just sucked more than she had ever imagined.

The moment she stepped out of the subway station, a sudden downpour drenched the streets.

Since she didn't have an umbrella, Luna had no choice but to duck into a random shop. Only after stepping inside did she realize it was a lottery store.

'Is this a sign? Am I actually going to win the lottery?' she thought.

Luna quickly spoke to the shopkeeper. "Sir, how much is your cheapest scratch-off? I'd like to buy one."

It wasn't that she was being cheap, but she only had 44.7 dollars left. If she didn't win anything, she would have to skip another meal.

The owner casually pulled out a scratch-off ticket and tossed it onto the counter. "3 dollars."

After paying, Luna scratched off line by line. Row after row, none were winning. Only the last line remained. If it won, the prize was 300 thousand dollars.

Luna's heart pounded wildly. 'How will I even spend 300 thousand dollars? I should rent a place first; no, I can buy a house. But is 300 thousand dollars even enough to buy a house?' she wondered.

It was a miss. As expected, luck would never favor a chronically unfortunate person like her.

Once she returned to her dorm room, Luna stared blankly at the balance on her phone.

The subway ride cost 3 dollars, and the scratch-off ticket was 3 dollars, leaving her with 38.7 dollars.

That was still enough to buy some bread to survive the next few days.

With a sharp chime, another notification popped up on her screen.

[Your linked Mango Video membership has been successfully renewed. A payment of 35 dollars has been deducted. Thank you for your support.]

Luna let out a choked sob. It turned out that when a person reached absolute despair, they couldn't even cry.

Her account balance had been double digits a moment ago, but now it was only 3.7 dollars.

She muttered to herself, "Why the hell is this happening to me? Why am I so unlucky? What did I do to deserve this?"

Luna can't give up, especially when she was cornered like this. She had already survived twenty-two years of hardships, and she refused to admit defeat now.

[System initializing. Three. Two. One. Congratulations, Host. You have successfully activated the Wealth Master System.]

Chapter 2 The Wealth Master System

Luna thought she was seeing things from all the bad luck. But soon she realized a glowing screen was actually floating in mid-air right in front of her.

Stumbling backward, Luna stammered, "Wait, you said 'the Wealth Master System'? What exactly is that?"

"Hello, Host. Simply put, the Wealth Master System is a system that provides you with funds for you to spend."

"What's the catch? What do I have to pay?" she asked.

"You only need to allow us to collect the emotional energy generated when you spend. Beyond that, your only task is to spend every penny of the mission allowance, leaving nothing left over."

Luna always knew you had to pay for what you got. Now a system suddenly appeared, promising her money to spend, she couldn't help but be skeptical.

"Why?" she asked again.

'Why does the Wealth Master System exist? Why choose me, of all people?' Luna thought.

"The system has detected that you have many questions. Detailed explanations will now be provided."

The screen filled with text. Luna read carefully, line by line, finally understanding.

The Wealth Master System originated from a Level 11 cosmic civilization. This civilization discovered that when humans spent money, emotional fluctuations generated a mysterious energy.

Humans couldn't harness this energy, and it had no side effects, but it could power the system.

The system also had strict requirements when selecting a host.

First, the host had to be genuinely kind and upright. Second, the host had to have a strong desire for money. Third, the system only activated when the host was at their most desperate.

Luna's eyes widened. "So it appeared because I was at the absolute bottom today," she whispered.

'Luck in disguise, then,' she thought.

"Yes and no. Each system has a fixed activation schedule. Hosts can also interpret this as destiny."

She nodded thoughtfully and flipped to the second page of the system instructions.

[1. Each day at midnight, the system will release a spending allowance, valid for only 24 hours. In other words, if unused by the next midnight, the money expires.

[2. Any spending above the spending allowance must be covered by the host.

[3. The system will automatically rationalize spending, so no one will notice unusual behavior.

[4. Spending allowance can't be used for investments, cash conversion, or charity, only shopping or hiring staff.

[5. Purchased items can't be transferred; they are for the host's use only.]

The rules seemed reasonable and avoided unnecessary trouble.

Even if the system eventually unbound, Luna's previous expenditures were considered profits. Besides, she was dirt poor, with barely 3.7 dollars left.

"Host, do you agree to bind to the Wealth Master System?"

Luna nodded her head hard. "Sure I'd be clueless if I didn't."

A long progress bar appeared on the screen, filling instantly to 100%.

"Binding successful. Please claim your black card."

In an instant, a matte-black bank card appeared in her right hand, sleek and elegant, engraved with her name.

'So this is the black card?' she thought as she ran her fingers over it. 'High-quality, definitely.'

"Note: The black card is permanently bound to the host, usable only by them, and can't be lost or destroyed.

"Do you wish to daily check-in?"

She decisively pressed the daily check-in button.

"Check-in successful. You have received a 3,000 dollars spending allowance."

'3,000 dollars. My living situation is secured. I don't have to worry about going hungry for the next few days,' she thought.

Luna had earned 3,000 dollars before, but never like this, effortlessly.

She rubbed her hands in excitement. "System, can I spend 3,000 dollars right now?"

"Please wait. The daily random multiplier must first be drawn."

A large prize wheel appeared on the screen. Each slot displayed a different multiplier: 1x, 10x, 100x, 1,000x, up to 100 million times.

'A 3,000 dollars prize multiplied by one hundred million?' Luna gawked.

She had seen rich people flaunt their wealth, but they were usually millionaires or billionaires. Even for most wealthy people, 300 billion was an astronomical figure.

She wiped the corner of her mouth. "System, you're talking about dollars, right?"

"Rest assured, Host. The amount is in Calverian dollar.

"Note: The spending allowance does not change based on geographic location. Even if you travel abroad, the daily check-in amount remains 3,000 Calverian dollars."

'How could I possibly spend 300 billion? And it has to be spent within 24 hours,' she thought.

Of course, winning 300 billion wasn't easy.

The wheel was weighted heavily toward 1x, which occupied over half the wheel. The higher the multiplier, the lower the probability.

300 billion occupied only a tiny, nearly invisible segment; its chance was 0.0068%, or 0.68 in ten thousand.

Even in gacha games, this was ridiculously low.

Luna's hand trembled as she reached out to tap the screen. She closed her eyes immediately.

Chapter 3 An Entire Apple Ecosystem

Luna's heart was about to pound completely out of her chest.

She told herself that the worst case scenario was still 3,000 dollars, so she wouldn't lose out anyway.

She slowly opened her eyes as the pointer gradually came to a halt.

The multiplier was ten times the original amount.

Even though it was the second lowest multiplier on the board, that was still 30 thousand dollars.

Over the years, Luna had worked herself to the bone. She competed fiercely for every scholarship and worked seven jobs a day.

From picking up breakfast and fetching packages to making presentations, cleaning, serving food in the cafeteria, and acting as a sparring partner, she had only earned a total of fifty thousand.

And now, with a casual tap on her screen, she received 30 thousand.

[Host, the daily check-in refreshes at midnight every day. You only have two and a half hours left to spend this allowance. It will expire if time runs out.]

Luna glanced at her phone. It was already nine thirty.

For the first time in her life, she had so much money that she didn't know how to spend it.

Luna asked, "Sys, can I use this money to pay off my student loans?"

When Luna first started college, she only had 2,000 dollars in her pocket from her summer jobs, so she couldn't afford the tuition at all.

Her foster parents told her she was eighteen and should be independent, and they didn't give her a single cent.

She had no choice but to take out a student loan. It cost 2,500 dollars a year, totaling 10 thousand for all four years.

The very first time she managed to save up that 10 thousand by working, Harper suddenly contracted allergic purpura.

Her foster parents couldn't save money at all and even planned to leave Harper to fend for herself.

Looking at Harper's pale face, Luna simply couldn't bear to let that happen.

After that, Luna worked even harder and became the famous working queen of Ancelens University, but her student loan remained completely unpaid.

"Identified as a reasonable spending channel. Repayment is permitted."

Luna breathed a heavy sigh of relief. With this simple confirmation, the last heavy burden weighing her down was finally gone.

She still had over 20 thousand dollars left to spend.

Luna quickly packed her backpack and took a taxi directly to the nearest luxury hotel. It was impossible to rent a new apartment at this late hour.

She passed by this hotel every time she took the subway. People said it offered a breathtaking view overlooking the downtown skyline in Ancelens along with a full panoramic view of the water.

The nightly rate, of course, had always kept her far away.

But things were entirely different now. Luna walked generously up to the front desk. "I need a river view room for three nights, please."

A river view room cost 1,000 dollars a night, and Luna had never imagined she could stay here.

However, now that she actually possessed it, she surprisingly felt it was an absolute steal.

She sat in front of a massive transparent glass window. She overlooked the most luxurious night view of Ancelens. The flickering neon lights added a distinct touch of magic to the bustling city.

Luna took a sip of the complimentary sparkling wine provided by the hotel. She didn't usually like the taste of alcohol, but this glass of champagne was unexpectedly smooth and delicious.

In the past, she could never understand why a single night in a hotel could cost almost as much as her entire monthly internship salary.

But as she lay on the soft bed surrounded by a faint lily of the valley fragrance, Luna finally understood. The wealthy were simply buying pure comfort.

"Host, please do not forget you still have a spending allowance of 17 thousand."

Luna stretched her body lazily. "Don't worry about it. I might forget anything else, but I will never forget to spend money."

She opened the Apple website and quickly added all the top tier products to her shopping cart.

For the iPhone 17 Pro Max, she chose the elegant silver over the classic orange color.

She selected the thirteen inch iPad Pro and completely maxed out the storage to two terabytes.

She also added a Apple Watch, AirPods Pro, and various protective cases, chargers, and data cables.

With a gentle tap to check out, she paid the grand total of 15.7 thousand.

Luna then opened a shopping app and selected everything she had sitting in her cart.

These were all the little trinkets she had always wanted but couldn't bear to actually buy. Clearing out the entire cart only cost her 1,100 dollars.

She was exactly 196.3 dollars short of her total spending goal.

Luna thought it over carefully. A couple of days ago, she had seen a beautiful Disney collaboration bracelet.

It featured a blue-violet butterfly in the middle, and the sterling silver chain was beautifully decorated with a circle of sparkling zircons.

She searched for the specific keywords and found the bracelet priced at 200 dollars.

She realized she was exactly 3.7 dollars short.

However, the System had clearly mentioned she could cover any excess amount herself, so she didn't need to spend the exact allowance perfectly.

Luna confidently pressed the pay button, and a message from her bank card immediately popped up on screen.

[Your bank card has been deducted 3.7 dollars for your recent purchase. Your current balance is 0.]

"Yes," she let out a happy cheer.

If someone had told Luna that she would jump up in excitement after her bank account hit absolute zero, she would never have believed them.

She would have definitely thought that person was completely out of their mind.

But things were completely different now.

She only spent 3.7 dollars to get almost the entire Apple ecosystem. It felt exactly like a wonderful dream.

"Friendly reminder, Host. You still haven't bought a Mac computer."

Luna playfully wagged her index finger. "Not exactly. I did that entirely on purpose."

She had previously used her best friend Flora Murphy's Mac computer to help her make presentations.

The operating system was quite different from regular computers, and she didn't find it very easy to navigate. Luna preferred to buy a high performance gaming laptop instead.

If she ever drew a spending allowance of over three million one day, she would definitely buy her own house in Ancelens and specifically set up an amazing esports gaming room.

Luna felt incredibly happy just thinking about using her brand new iPhone 17 tomorrow.

She was currently using a cheap phone that Harper had completely discarded in disgust.

There was a strict rule in their family. When Callum bought a new phone, his old one went to Vivian. Vivian's old phone would then go to Harper, and Luna only received what Harper no longer wanted.

In an era where phones already had two terabytes of storage, her device only had a pitiful sixty four gigabytes.

Not only was it as laggy as a brick, but the battery was also severely degraded. It would often die completely after she was out for just a few hours.

She could only download four or five basic apps and had to constantly clean up her files every single day.

Before she knew it, midnight had finally arrived.

Luna, who was previously lounging on the bed, suddenly sat bolt upright.

"System. It's time to daily check-in."

"Daily check-in successful. You have received a spending allowance of 3,000 dollars.

"Congratulations on completing the first day's spending task!

"You successfully spent 30 thousand. It will now be returned to you at a one to one ratio. This cashback is free from any restrictions, and you can use it however you please."

Luna could hardly believe what she was seeing. There was actually a cashback feature.

Luna hurriedly opened her mobile banking app. The balance had turned into 30 thousand.

"System, why didn't you tell me earlier that there was such a wonderful cashback feature?" Luna said.

"The cashback feature is only activated after completing the first day's task.

"This System also possesses other hidden features that you must discover completely on your own."

This System was truly mysterious.

Luna carefully examined the screen in front of her once again.

It seemed a new progress bar had miraculously appeared right below the roulette wheel.

Chapter 4 The Mysterious Hidden Reward

The progress bar had a total of seven slots. One was lit up, while the others remained dark.

"Is there some kind of hidden reward for daily checking in seven days in a row?" Luna asked.

"Yes, Host. This System does indeed include a cumulative daily check-in feature.

"Upon completing seven consecutive daily check-ins, the System will gift you one mystery box draw.

"Furthermore, the System will undergo an upgrade, leveling up from Version 1.0 to Version 2.0.

"Note: You must check in and complete the daily tasks for seven consecutive days to accumulate progress. If the streak is broken at any point, the progress will reset to zero."

"A mystery box draw? What can I get from it? Is it also spending allowance?" Luna asked.

"Apologies, but I can't reveal the specific prizes to you in advance.

"However, I can secretly tell you that the mystery box also contains some physical item rewards."

'What a cheeky System,' she thought.

Luna sat up straight. "Bring it on, let's draw!" She secretly wished to hit the jackpot.

The pointer slowly came to a halt on the largest slot: the 1x multiplier.

Today's spending allowance was 3,000 dollars.

"Don't be discouraged, Host. Your luck might just turn around tomorrow."

Luna felt a warm sensation in her chest. 'In my twenty-two years of life, this is the first time someone, wait, no, the first time a System actually cares about my feelings.'

She had always been completely alone. Perhaps this was the reason destiny had gifted her a System in the first place.

"System," she called out softly.

"What's wrong, Host?"

"If there comes a day when you can't give me money anymore, please don't leave me, okay?"

Even as she said it, Luna knew it was an extravagant hope.

If the System were human, she could support it herself, even without its Wealth Master features.

But the System required energy. Let alone an ordinary person like Luna, even the top scientists on Earth wouldn't know how to obtain that kind of energy.

If the Wealth Master System lost its functions, it meant it would definitely leave her.

"Why would you think that? This System hails from the highest, Level 11 cosmic civilization.

"Even if your current planet is destroyed, I can transfer you to another habitable planet to continue spending money.

"Therefore, you shouldn't worry so much. You should just focus on how to complete today's task."

After her experience of spending 30 thousand in two hours yesterday, today's 3 thousand was indeed a piece of cake.

However, Luna decided to stop overthinking. She decided to get some sleep first. Staying alive was the priority.

*****

Luna woke up feeling completely refreshed.

She rubbed her eyes and took a moment to fully wake up before remembering.

The unfamiliar room in front of her wasn't her cramped dorm, but a river-view hotel room that cost one thousand a night.

She wasn't dreaming. The Wealth Master System was real.

"Host, good morning. Hurry up and get out of bed to spend money."

'Well, what a beautiful urging sound,' she thought.

Before going to bed yesterday, Luna had already figured out exactly how she wanted to spend her money today.

After changing her clothes, she headed straight for the Michelin-starred restaurant at Grand Galleria.

She had always heard others raving about Michelin and Black Pearl guide restaurants, and today she absolutely had to try one for herself.

Choosing this particular location at Grand Galleria wasn't because Luna had a special preference for it.

It was because she only learned today that Michelin-starred restaurants actually required reservations, and the extremely popular ones needed to be booked months in advance.

In all of Ancelens, this was the only one where she could secure a table on the same day.

The moment Luna stepped into the restaurant, it felt like she was surrounded by a romantic sea of flowers. Both sides of every walkway were lined with freshly picked blooms, their petals still dotted with crystal-clear dewdrops.

Numerous uniquely styled paintings hung on the walls, clearly showcasing the owner's highly elegant taste.

A server led Luna to her seat. She noticed that every guest's table had a completely different arrangement.

In addition to a nameplate with her name on it, there was a mixed bouquet of Meravon blue orchids and lilies of the valley.

"This bouquet was specially designed based on your name. After your meal, you are welcome to take it with you," the server explained.

It was too elegant.

The 1,900 dollars set menu included a total of 14 chef's signature dishes.

The first to arrive were the aperitifs and sweet starters.

Luna took a light sip. The sweet, refreshing fruity aroma of lychee spread through her mouth, instantly awakening her taste buds.

The three starters were exquisite and bite-sized. The duck liver pâté was sweet, sour, and perfectly smooth, while the caviar tart was savory, fresh, and crispy.

What surprised her the most was her first time trying melon paired with mackerel; it was unexpectedly delicious.

Chapter 1

I spent three years chasing after Eric Brooks, and he finally said yes.

He couldn't wait to marry me.

After the wedding, he treated me like I was the most precious thing in the world, paying attention to every little detail.

Everyone kept telling me how lucky I was, that I'd married for love and found my happily ever after.

But when I was nine months pregnant and about to give birth, I overheard Eric talking to his best friend.

"If Emmy didn't need Sophia's cord blood, there's no way in hell I would've married her.

"I'm telling you, every time I sleep with her, I have to run to the bathroom and throw up afterward.

"And those stretch marks on her stomach? They look like a bunch of worms tangled up together.

"Once she has the baby, I'll find some excuse to kick her out."

That's when I realized the truth. Emily Johnson, my cousin who I'd hated since we were kids, was actually my dad's illegitimate daughter.

And she'd been sleeping with Eric this whole time.

I walked into the delivery room in a complete daze, and I never made it out.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to right before I confessed my feelings to Eric for the nth time.

This time, I was choosing not to love him.

*****

The excruciating pain from labor still lingered, coming in waves that wouldn't stop.

I couldn't help but curl forward, my hand reaching instinctively for my stomach. But there was no swollen belly anymore, just my slim waist, barely a handful.

I grabbed onto a stone bench by the side of the campus path and sat down, and it took me a long time to accept what had happened. I'd been reborn.

I was back in my sophomore year of college.

In my hand, I was still clutching the love letter I'd stayed up writing for several nights and the birthday present I'd saved up my allowance to buy for Eric.

Memories from my past life flickered through my mind like scenes from a movie.

I'd loved Eric Brooks for three years, from senior year of high school all the way through college.

Maybe it started because he tutored me back in high school, or maybe it was his handsome face, his brilliant mind, or that brooding, mysterious air about him.

Whatever it was, I fell hard.

Over those three years, I confessed my feelings to him countless times, and every single time, he turned me down cold. He always said the same thing, "Sophia, now's the time to focus on studying. We need to work hard."

Everyone on campus said Eric from the Finance Department was completely untouchable, someone you could admire from afar but never get close to.

Tons of girls chased after him, but he rejected every single one equally.

Most of them moved on after a few days of moping, but not me. I kept coming back, more determined each time, confessing over and over again.

In my past life, today was the day everything changed. I handed him another love letter and gave him his birthday present, but this time, instead of throwing the letter back in my face like usual, he actually opened it and read it carefully. When he finished, he looked at me and asked, "Sophia, do you really like me?"

My heart soared, and I nodded with a huge smile on my face.

"What do you like about me?" he asked.

I didn't even have to think about it. "I like everything about you, Eric."

"Really?" His lips twitched into what looked like a smile. That day, he pulled me into his arms and said, "Sophia, let's get married."

I was completely blindsided. I just wanted to date him. I'd never thought about marriage, and definitely not while I was still in college. "Eric, what did you just say? Marriage?" I stammered.

"Yeah, marriage," he said. "You said you like me, don't you? Don't you want to marry me?"

I'd read somewhere that any relationship without the intention of marriage was just playing around.

I'd imagined confessing successfully a thousand times, picturing the sweet romance that would follow, but I'd never once imagined skipping straight past dating and heading directly to the altar.

Eric's eyes were filled with what looked like deep affection as he wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, "Sophia, do you know why I kept rejecting you all this time?"

I shook my head. I really didn't know. Everyone always said he was the campus ice prince who turned down every girl equally.

"I was scared," he said. "I was scared we'd fall deeply in love, and then in the end, we wouldn't be able to stay together."

Back then, I didn't suspect a thing, and I told him loud and clear, "Sophia likes Eric! Forever and ever, we'll never be apart!"

That night, he said he wanted to take me out.

We slowly made our way through the barbecue stands near campus, and he was so gentle, so attentive the whole time. Then he took me to a run-down little motel nearby and got a room.

I was scared. I'd known him for three years, had a crush on him for three years, and confessed to him more times than I could count. But on the very same day he finally accepted my feelings, he was taking me to a hotel, and all I could think about was running away.

I didn't know how I'd ended up staying with him in my past life. Was I really that much of a lovesick fool?

He stepped out of the shower wrapped in a bathrobe, and I could see his sculpted abs through the gap in the fabric. The way the robe hung on his frame made my face heat up.

"Baby, go take your shower," he said, his voice soft and coaxing.

It was the first time he'd ever called me that.

Chapter 2

I was terrified.

I'd always been the good girl growing up, the one who followed all the rules and never stepped out of line.

College was supposed to be the time for romance and dating, sure, but this didn't feel right. This wasn't what love was supposed to be like.

Eric must have noticed my hesitation because he pulled me into his arms and asked softly, "Baby, don't you love me anymore?"

Of course I loved him. In my past life, I'd loved him the entire time.

I dragged my feet getting through the shower, and when I came out wrapped in my bathrobe, everything happened so fast I couldn't even process it. One moment the robe was on, and the next it wasn't, and then...

My first time didn't feel like love at all. It felt rough and mechanical, like he was just using me to get something out of his system. That was exactly what it was, just him releasing his frustrations.

When it was over, my body was covered in bruises that were already turning purple, my lower abdomen ached terribly, and there was this indescribable pain everywhere else.

Then it hit me, something I should've thought about beforehand.

"We didn't use protection!"

He hadn't taken any precautions at all, and I knew this cheap motel kept free condoms in the drawer.

"I need to get the morning-after pill," I said.

I'd never been through anything like this before, but I was a college student living in the information age. I'd heard enough to know what adults did in these situations.

Eric just laughed and pulled me closer, his arm draped over my shoulders. "Baby, relax. It's just one time. What are the odds? Besides, I've heard those pills are really bad for your body. Don't take it."

I'd heard the same thing about how the pill could harm your body, so I believed him. But what I didn't know was that everything—every single thing—was part of Eric's plan to save Emily.

Back in our senior year of high school, when Eric was tutoring me, he'd already been sleeping with Emily, who was staying at my house.

The whole "unattainable gentleman" image he cultivated, and Emily's "pure and innocent" act? It was all carefully crafted bullshit. Deep down, they were greedier and more disgusting than anyone.

I opened the shopping app and returned the men's necklace, then headed straight to the campus package pickup station.

After I dropped off the return package and walked out, I spotted Eric standing at the entrance, staring at me with an intense look in his eyes.

"Sophia?" he called out.

"What's up?" I buried all the hatred I felt and looked up with the same carefree smile I always wore.

Eric said cautiously, "Sophia, my birthday's coming up in a few days."

"Oh?" I nodded and smiled. "Happy early birthday, then."

"Sophia, didn't you get me a birthday present?" he asked again.

Something clicked in my mind. This wasn't right.

In my past life, I was supposed to go to Eric's dorm today and give him that expensive necklace for his birthday, then hand him my confession letter.

He would accept my confession, take me to the food street to eat cheap meals and whisper sweet nothings that meant nothing, then drag me to some rundown motel to satisfy his urges and get me pregnant.

But now I hadn't gone to him, and he'd come looking for me instead. Did that mean he'd been reborn too?

At that thought, I immediately pulled out the love letter I'd spent several nights writing and tore it to pieces right in front of him before tossing it in the trash.

"Sophia, what was that?" Eric sounded nervous and grabbed my wrist. A few pieces had fallen on the ground, and he bent down to pick them up.

"Was this for me?" he asked.

I shook off his hand and nodded. "Yeah, it was supposed to be for you."

"Why did you tear it up?" His tone carried blame and what seemed like hidden anger.

Standing in the warm spring sunlight, I looked him over carefully for a long moment before finally saying, "Eric, I did like you for a while, so I thought I'd chase after you for fun.

"But now I'm realizing you're not really all that special, so I'm moving on to someone better."

I spread my hands wide and put on my most innocent expression. "What's the point of going after some untouchable ice prince who's basically just a broke loser anyway? My new target is Alex Carter. You know, the hottest guy in our school."

Eric's face darkened immediately.

I could tell he'd been reborn too, even though he hadn't said a word about it or given anything away. But I just knew.

I patted my mouth theatrically and shook my head. "Oh, Eric, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to call you a broke loser."

I paused for effect. "But honestly, whether you forgive me or not doesn't really matter. I don't care either way. When it comes to dating, you've got to find someone on your level to make it worth your time, right?"

With that, I waved my arms dramatically and turned to run. "Bye!"

He grabbed me hard enough that I nearly fell.

"Sophia, what the hell are you doing?" His voice was cold and harsh.

When I looked up at him, I saw something vicious lurking in his eyes—the same look I'd seen in my past life, now overlapping with the present moment.

I shoved him away and said icily, "Mr. Brooks, please have some self-respect. You've already rejected my confessions multiple times, so stop bothering me."

Then I turned and walked away.

Chapter 3

Eric blocked my path again and demanded coldly, "Sophia, what kind of game are you playing?"

I was genuinely confused now.

"Eric, do you have some kind of problem? When I confessed to you, you acted like I was annoying the hell out of you. Now that I've stopped, you're throwing a fit?

"What, was your whole aloof act just an excuse to get girls to worship you? Oh, I get it. Your birthday passed and I didn't buy you an expensive present, so now you're pissed?"

I made sure to say all of this loud enough for everyone to hear.

The package pickup station entrance was crowded with people coming and going, and they all stopped to watch the show.

I raised my voice even more. "Everyone, can you believe this? I spent three years chasing Eric, and he never once accepted my confession. But he sure as hell took every expensive gift I gave him!"

In my past life, I'd been such an idiot. I'd never once questioned why Eric kept rejecting me but had no problem accepting all those pricey presents I bought him.

If I'd just stopped to think about it for one second, I never would've ended up dying the way I did.

Having a brain was a good thing. But being blinded by love? I was done with that.

"Sophia, stop making a scene." Eric reached out to grab me again.

"Sophia, I accept your confession. Come on, let's go." Then he actually tried to put his arm around me.

I quickly pushed him away.

"Everyone here is my witness. I don't like Eric anymore!" I announced firmly.

"Sophia..." Suddenly, a soft, timid voice interrupted.

I looked up and saw Emily standing there.

I hated Emily from the very core of my being. She was only three months younger than me, but my dad absolutely adored her.

Ever since we were kids, he'd brought her to live with us under the excuse of "keeping me company."

From that moment on, she'd played the fragile, pitiful little victim, walking around like she was on the verge of death every single day.

Emily was always playing the damsel in distress, tearing up at the drop of a hat and acting like she could barely catch her breath.

My mom was constantly busy with her business, so Dad handled most things around the house. I'd always figured Emily just knew how to play innocent and manipulative to win Dad's fatherly affection.

In my past life, I didn't find out until after I died that she was actually Dad's illegitimate daughter. What made it worse was that she had his last name, which meant she represented everything his old-fashioned, patriarchal mindset valued, carrying on the family line and all that.

"Sophia, I talked to Eric for ages before he finally agreed to give you a chance," Emily said, reaching out to grab my hand with that fragile, helpless look on her face. "You like him, don't you? Don't be difficult now."

I yanked my hand away from her and said coldly, "Who the hell are you to be mediating between us? I want to know why Eric's listening to you in the first place. Have you two been sleeping together this whole time?"

The second I pulled away, Emily pretended to stumble and let out a little cry as she fell toward the ground.

Eric rushed to catch her.

He frowned at me. "Sophia, Emmy was just trying to help you out. Why are you treating her like this?"

I got right in his face. "How exactly am I treating her? Eric, whatever's going on between you and me has nothing to do with her. Why is she even involved?"

Emily immediately jumped back into peacemaker mode. "Sophia, please don't be like this. I know you're upset, but Eric was only looking out for you when he turned you down at first. The truth is, he's always had feelings for you."

I didn't let her finish. "Enough. How do you know so much about what some random guy is thinking? If you like him, then you two can date. I'm not interested anymore, so please leave me alone."

With that, I turned around and walked away.

When I got back to my dorm room and made sure my roommates weren't around, I called my mom, Madison Quinn.

I needed to tell her that Emily was Dad's illegitimate daughter so she could protect herself from whatever Dad might be planning.

She picked up on the second ring.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, I cut straight to the point.

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you, but I'm not sure how to say it..."

"Sweetie, what's wrong? Do you need money?" Madison asked.

She'd been so busy with work my whole life that she always felt guilty about it, and the only way she knew how to make it up to me was by giving me money.

"No, Mom, it's not that. It's about Emily. I think she might be Dad's illegitimate daughter."

The words hung in the air, and my heart was racing. But if I didn't say something now, the consequences could be devastating.

There was a long silence on the other end before Mom finally spoke. "Sophia, I've suspected it for a while now. How did you find out?

"She's back. Let's get a divorce on Monday. Name a price." Her husband suddenly asked for a divorce, but she didn't argue or make a scene. She chose to go along with it and took his money, car, and house. The man was glad to get rid of such a greedy woman in time, but he didn't expect that she was the one who controlled their wealth!

=====

"We'll divorce on Monday. Aside from the compensation in the agreement, you may request anything else you need."

Kristian Shaw, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, exuded an air of cold detachment. His voice firm and emotionless.

His piercing gaze settled on the silent woman opposite him, his eyes inscrutable.

"Why so sudden?" Freya Briggs asked, her voice quieter than usual.

Kristian's answer was blunt. "Ashley is back."

Freya knew exactly who Ashley was. After a brief pause, she replied, "Okay."

Kristian hesitated, caught off guard by her immediate acceptance.

Freya opened the divorce papers, her thoughts drifting to the past.

Two years ago, they had met at a n**htclub. She had been weighed down by worries; he had been nursing a broken heart.

A few drinks later, they found solace in each other's company, talking late into the night.

There had been no impulsive o*e-n**ht st*nd--just a quiet parting afterward.

Three days later, he had returned with his assistant to propose marriage. And she had agreed.

After getting married, he had treated her well--tending to her needs, drying her hair with gentle hands, and solving her problems before she even voiced them.

Their relationship had been perfect--until six months ago, when a single phone call changed everything.

Overnight, he grew distant, his warmth replaced by icy indifference.

That was when she learned the truth: Kristian had married her because she bore a faint resemblance to his lost love, Ashley Bradley.

The memory made Freya press her lips together before she asked lightly, "You said I could ask for compensation, right?"

"Yes," Kristian replied flatly.

"Anything I want?" She lifted her gaze to him, her delicate face devoid of its usual brightness.

For a fleeting moment, guilt flickered in his ch*st. "Yes."

He had already resolved to grant her reasonable demands.

After all, she had been good to him all the time.

Freya's voice was steady. "Then I want the most expensive car in your garage."

"Fine," Kristian agreed.

"A villa in the suburbs," she added.

"Done," he said.

Freya smiled. "And a share of the money you've earned in the last two years."

For the first time, Kristian's composure cracked. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if questioning whether he'd heard correctly. "What did you say?"

Freya, unfazed, repeated her demand.

"Our earnings during the marriage count as marital property, don't they? Based on my calculations--excluding investments--your salary and dividends over the last two years amount to several billion. I don't want much--just 40%."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Then, she added, as if casually mentioning the weather, "Of course, you're welcome to take 40% of my income too."

Kristian's patience finally snapped. "Freya!" His voice carried an edge of disbelief.

Had he really felt guilty earlier? How had he never noticed her greed?

Freya met his gaze evenly. "Is that not acceptable?"

Absolutely not.

Kristian dismissed the idea instantly.

"Then forget it." Freya set down her pen. "Next time I see your family, I'll bring up your emotional infidelity. I'm sure they'll take my side."

Kristian's expression darkened, his stare turning glacial. He hadn't anticipated this side of her--realizing now that her past docility had been an act.

"Do you really want to negotiate with me like this?" he demanded.

"Yes." Freya held his gaze without flinching. She knew he despised threats--but she despised infidelity more.

"Fine." Kristian's eyes turned stormy, his voice glacial. "You'll get what you want. But if the divorce hits complications, you'll regret it."

Freya leaned back in her chair, her tone razor-sharp. "Kristian Shaw, is that a threat?"

This version of her was foreign to Kristian. For two years, she'd been the picture of compliance--gentle, accommodating, never defiant. Now, she met his anger with unshakable calm.

"No." Already calculating countermeasures, he bit out, "You'll have the assets. We divorce on Monday."

Freya's lashes lowered briefly before she added, "One more condition."

"Speak." His patience frayed.

"Take me shopping tomorrow." She ignored the frost radiating from him. "Afterward, we'll tell your family together that I ended things."

"Deal," Kristian conceded.

With that, he strode toward the door, unable to stomach another second in her presence.

Earlier, he'd even considered granting her a grace period to process the divorce.

How laughable. She couldn't wait to carve up his fortune and be rid of him.

Had Freya been able to read his thoughts, she might have laughed and said, "That little money? Do you really think I care?"

Kristian reached the door and halted. Without turning around, he said, "I won't be back tonight. I'll pick you up at nine tomorrow morning. Make a list of the stores you want to visit."

Freya's voice followed him, calm but laced with something sharp. "Are you going to see Ashley Bradley?"

Kristian's jaw tightened. "That's none of your business."

Freya let out a quiet breath, as if she had already expected that answer. "I don't tolerate cheating," she said plainly. "So before the divorce is finalized, you'd better not end up in b*d with her."

Kristian whirled back, looming over her.

Freya didn't blink. "What? Can't endure two more days?"

"I understand your bitterness," he said, eerily composed, "but lashing out won't help. This is a divorce, not war."

Freya blinked at him. For a moment, she was at a loss for words. This man was truly shameless.

Kristian didn't wait for a response. "Good night." And with that, he turned and left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Freya's gaze drifted down to the divorce papers still lying on the table. She stood there for a long time, unmoving.

To say she felt nothing would have been a lie. She wasn't made of stone.

The moment she discovered she was nothing more than a stand-in, the hurt had settled deep in her bones.

Kristian had been her first love. In twenty-four years, no one else had breached her defenses.

Before the betrayal, he'd been perfection itself--attentive, steady, silencing every doubt with his quiet devotion.

So when she learned of Ashley, she'd offered to leave. To free him. But he'd refused.

Chapter 2 Kristian Was Pure S**mbag

The reason behind Kristian's refusal was simple. Before Ashley returned, he needed someone to manage his elders at home--and Freya, adored by his parents and grandpa, was the obvious choice.

But sometimes, Freya couldn't help but wonder--did he really think she was a f*ol? Otherwise, why would he assume she'd play along in hiding his a**air?

Now, with his sudden demand for divorce, frustration simmered inside her.

Even after six months of steeling herself, a stubborn flicker of emotion remained.

She let out a slow breath, crossed to the sofa, and grabbed her phone.

She tapped the contact labeled "Fred"--untouched for two years--and typed, "Check if Shaw Group's facing any issues. And find out if Kristian's terminally ill."

Fred's replies exploded onto the screen instantly.

"Holy--Freya?!"

"Never thought I'd hear from you again!"

"Two years, Freya. TWO."

"Where've you been?!"

She didn't bother explaining.

Mood sour, she fired back a single word, "Check."

Fred caved. "On it!"

She tossed the phone aside and waited.

If Kristian was divorcing her to spare her some tragedy, she'd forgive him--maybe even help.

But if he was just an unfaithful j**k? She'd drop him without a second thought.

Thirty minutes later, her phone buzzed with Fred's verdict.

"Zero troubles. No illness, no crisis. Why the h*ll are you asking? Kristian's loaded, hot, and sharp--you two are a match. Don't you like pretty boys? Give it a shot!"

She ignored the jab and shot back, "You are so blind."

Then she silenced her phone.

No external factors meant only one thing--Kristian was pure s*um.

Fred stared at his screen, baffled. Did Freya wake up in a mood today?

Freya's gaze landed on the divorce papers. After a pause, she snatched a pen, scrawled her name, and shoved them into a drawer. Then she headed for the shower.

When she emerged, her phone was a disaster--dozens of unread messages and 32 missed calls.

No guessing needed. Frederick Price--aka Fred--had clearly blabbed about her resurrection to the entire world.

Towel draped over her damp hair, she reached for her phone--only for it to ring again.

The caller ID flashed; it was her father.

Her ch*st tightened. Two years of silence, and now he called?

She'd left Alerith City due to a situation involving her mother, and neither had she reached out to her father nor had he contacted her--until now.

After a pause, she answered coolly. "Hello."

Silence.

Freya, never one for patience, was about to hang up when Hugh Briggs' raspy voice cut through. "Mina."

That name clawed at buried memories.

"What do you want?" she asked flatly.

Hugh hesitated, guilt threading his words. "Frederick told me you reached out. Said you were digging into Kristian. Need help?"

"No." Freya had no interest in his involvement.

A beat passed before Hugh ventured, "What's your relationship with him?"

"A couple." She let the word hang. "About to divorce."

Hugh's

breath hitched. She was married?

"You--" he started.

"If that's all, I'm done." Freya didn't want to waste any more breath on him.

"Wait!" he rushed.

She held her tongue.

The line crackled with tension.

Finally, he muttered, "When are you coming back? That woman's gone."

Then, hastily, he added, "Your mom's belongings are untouched."

Her fingers tightened around the phone. For a flicker, emotion crossed her face--then vanished. "Noted."

She hung up before he could protest.

Hugh stared at the dead line, frustration curdling in his ch*st. He hadn't even asked about her marriage.

Freya didn't spare him another thought. She flicked her phone to airplane mode, towel-dried her hair, and collapsed into b*d.

The night passed without dreams.

By eight the next morning, she was up--dressed and breakfasted.

Today, she'd taken care with her makeup. Her skin glowed; her lips, naturally full, needed no enhancement. But her eyes--sharp, luminous--were the real weapon.

Her smile was bright, bringing a warmth that could instantly lift anyone's spirits.

When Kristian arrived, she was already waiting on the sofa. Her shoulder-length hair was pinned back, bangs swept up under a black beret.

At the sight of him, she rose gracefully, reaching for a coat and draping it over her shoulder.

"Let's go." She grabbed her purse, her tone composed and unbothered.

Kristian didn't move. His tailored suit emphasized his height as he said, "Not today."

Freya stilled.

"I have other commitments." His voice was indifferent. His gaze lingered--too long--on her face. "Tomorrow."

"Kristian Shaw." Her tone was a warning.

He disliked it instantly.

"I put on makeup today," she said, her voice deceptively calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.

"If you want our divorce to go smoothly on Monday, push aside whatever plans you have. I don't deal with people who break their promises."

Kristian's eyes narrowed.

After a silent calculation, he stepped out to make a call. Fragments floated back--Ashley... hospital... follow-up.

Freya's grip on her purse turned white-knuckled. Inside, she seethed. Even now, Ashley occupied his thoughts completely.

Kristian missed Freya's fury. All he saw was how she shone today--vibrant, untamed. Nothing like the subdued woman he knew.

After hanging up, he inquired where she wanted to shop. Freya mentioned the largest luxury mall in town.

This wasn't shopping. This was a spree. By 10 AM, the four bodyguards trailed behind her like pack mules--arms stacked with watches, jewels, designer bags.

Kristian's phone chimed nonstop with alerts.

As Freya strode into yet another jewelry boutique, his jaw hardened. This wasn't retail therapy; she was intentionally trying to irritate him.

Chapter 3 Why Hurt Ashley?

Gerard Todd, Kristian's ever-dutiful assistant, hesitated for a moment before asking, "Sir, should I go ahead and book a restaurant?"

Kristian massaged his temples, irritation flashing across his face. "No need."

He knew Freya was venting her frustration. If splurging eased her temper, so be it--he'd let her spend freely.

The moment the words left his mouth, his phone vibrated. Another alert flashed--over thirty million had just vanished from his account.

Gerard averted his eyes, while the four bodyguards stood stiffly, arms laden with shopping bags like silent, overburdened mules.

Freya strode out of the jewelry boutique and casually handed her latest purchase to Gerard, whose hands were conspicuously empty.

Just as she turned to continue her spree, Kristian's phone rang.

His posture shifted instantly. The tension in his shoulders eased, his frown softening as he glanced at the caller ID.

Long fingers cradled the phone, his voice uncharacteristically tender as he answered. "Hello, Ashley."

Gerard and the bodyguards exchanged startled glances. Had their boss forgotten Freya was standing right there?

"Ashley was in a car accident on her way to a hospital follow-up. She's unconscious--still in surgery," the voice on the line blurted, frantic.

"Please come. She kept calling your name before they took her in."

"Send the address. I'm on my way." Kristian's ch*st constricted, the words sharp with urgency.

He ended the call, his gaze flickering to Freya.

An explanation hovered on his lips, but he swallowed it. Instead, he turned to Gerard and the bodyguards.

"Stay with her. Buy whatever she wants. If it doesn't fit in the car, have it delivered by this afternoon."

"Yes, sir," the five men chorused.

Without another word, Kristian strode off, leaving Freya and the others in his wake.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

Gerard adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, forcing a polished smile. "Mrs. Shaw, don't worry. Mr. Shaw will return once he handles matters."

"What a loyal employee," Freya murmured, her tone laced with something unreadable.

Gerard blinked, thrown by her response.

Freya studied the mall's glittering chandeliers, her voice deliberate.

"Being his assistant is one thing. But cleaning up his messes? Tell me, Gerard--have you ever seen a man ditch his wife mid-date to run to his mi**ress?"

The bodyguards stiffened; Gerard's smile froze.

For a heartbeat, all five men stared at her with something dangerously close to pity.

This might be the price of marrying into wealth--knowing her husband had left her for another woman while she was expected to swallow the insult.

"Save the sympathy." Freya scoffed, amused by their expressions. She gestured to the bags weighing them down.

"A single one of those could cover your salary for a year. Maybe ten."

The blow landed perfectly.

She pressed, "Well, anything you'd like?"

Five pairs of eyes widened in unison.

Freya's mind worked in ways they couldn't follow.

"Since he's off playing hero for his darling, let's put his money to better use." She twirled the black card between her fingers, her voice quieter now.

The sting surprised her. She hadn't realized Kristian's departure would still claw at her.

Right now, all she wanted was to drain his account dry.

Gerard and the bodyguards gaped.

Delighted by their shock, Freya resumed shopping, the card clutched like a weapon.

She assumed Kristian would linger at the hospital all day. But as she sat down to eat, he appeared like a storm, his presence slicing through the restaurant's warmth.

Before anyone could react, he seized Freya's wrist and hauled her toward the parking area, his grip ironclad.

Her back slammed against the car door, pain radiating through her. She winced. What the hell was his problem?

His accusation came like a whip crack, "Why hurt Ashley?"

Kristian trembled with suppressed rage.

"You hired that hit-and-run driver, didn't you? I gave you everything you wanted, the house, the car, the money. What more do you want? Why did you still hurt her?"

He looked like vengeance personified, his eyes glacial.

"When did I--" Freya's confusion was genuine.

"Still lying?" His voice could've frosted glass.

"You planned this. Picked today so I'd be distracted while your hired man ran her down. You know I'd die before letting her suffer."

His voice was Arctic frost, the kind that seeped into bones and made spines stiffen.

Freya's initial fury dissolved into something colder, sharper. His absurd accusation had an ironic effect--it drained her rage, leaving only icy clarity.

She met his gaze, lips curling in derision. "How poetic. Turning betrayal into some grand romance."

"Freya Briggs!" Kristian's control frayed, his shout raw with warning.

"You're delusional." She didn't flinch, status be damned. "Think. Why would I trash my fresh start--my freedom--over someone like her?"

"You know exactly why." His voice dropped lower, a bl**e pressed to her throat.

A realization flickered. "Ah. You think I'm still obsessed with you?"

Kristian said nothing, but his clenched jaw and the fire in his eyes were answer enough.

"Why should I still want you?" Freya laughed, the sound brittle. "After being treated as a stand-in? After your infidelity? After watching you fawn over another woman?"

The words landed like sl*ps.

Kristian stiffened. "I didn't cheat," he ground out.

"You handed her your heart while wearing my ring." Her smile was lethal. "That's cheating."

"Enough deflection," he snapped.

"You're the one hallucinating conspiracies!"

Silence. Kristian studied her, as if peeling back layers for the first time. The weight of his scrutiny was suffocating.

Freya refused to wilt. "So she claimed I hired a man to k*ll her, and you just... believed her?"

"Yes." His anger faltered under her unwavering stare, but the frost remained. "Ashley didn't lie. And she has proof."

Freya's brows arched.

Her fingers dug into her bag strap, knuckles whitening. "Perfect. Let's go to the hospital. Right now."

Kristian blinked. Her immediate agreement threw him.

Guilty people didn't invite confrontation.

Doubt slithered in. Was the evidence fabricated?

"Move." Her command shattered his thoughts.

He released her wrist, disconcerted by her detachment. Something ugly twisted in his ch*st--annoyance? Guilt?

Before he could name it, he yanked out his keys and wrenched the car door open.

Chapter 4 Are You Threatening Me?

Gerard stepped forward swiftly to take the keys, assuming the role of driver without hesitation.

Freya yanked the passenger door open and slid inside, her gaze fixed straight ahead--ignoring Kristian entirely.

A knot of dread tightened in Gerard's ch*st. What if Freya said something outrageous? The thought made his fingers clench around the wheel.

After a weighted pause, he ventured, "Mrs. Shaw, you--"

"Drive." Her reply was a bl**e, sharp and final.

Gerard flicked a glance at the rearview mirror. Kristian's expression gave nothing away. Swallowing hard, he pulled out of the parking area.

Silence smothered the car like a thick fog.

The tension was unbearable. Gerard's shoulders tensed, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Neither Kristian nor Freya spoke. Both radiated a frost so deep it could've cracked the windows.

Gerard knew Kristian's moods well--but Freya? She'd been almost cheerful earlier. What the hell happened?

He bit back a sigh. Questions wouldn't help now.

In the back seat, Kristian's gaze drifted unbidden to Freya's profile. Something unfamiliar twisted in his ch*st--an emotion he refused to name.

Thirty minutes later, the car halted at the hospital entrance.

Kristian seized Freya's wrist, dragging her toward the VIP ward. His grip was iron, unyielding.

She winced, her voice dripping with mockery. "At this rate, I won't be the one charged--you'll be arrested for assault first."

He dropped her arm like it burned him. Angry red marks circled her skin.

Freya shot him a look so scathing it could've melted steel.

Guilt flickered in Kristian's ch*st--brief, unwelcome. It vanished the moment Ashley's bruised face flashed in his mind.

"Follow me," he muttered, turning on his heel. He didn't wait to see if Freya obeyed.

The door swung open. Ashley lay propped up in b*d, her face lighting up at the sight of Kristian. "Kristian," she breathed, voice sweet with devotion.

He was at her side in an instant, fingers brushing hers in silent reassurance.

Freya strode in, took one look at them, and smirked. "Should I leave? Give you two some privacy?"

"Freya. Enough." Kristian's voice was winter itself. He didn't look at Freya, his hand still resting on Ashley's back. "You're here to apologize."

Freya closed the distance to the b*d, studying Ashley properly for the first time--soft features, delicate frame, eyes wide with practiced innocence.

Ah. Now she understood. This was the woman Kristian loved.

"Miss Bradley." Freya laced her fingers together.

"My darling tells me you've accused me of hiring your attacker--with evidence." She stressed the word, gaze locked on Kristian. "Care to share?"

"Kristian..." Ashley's fingers tightened around his, her lower lip trembling...

After seven years of covert training, she, a genius nurtured by the state, finally returned home. She found her aunt living lavishly in her late parents' mansion while her sister slept in a dog kennel and ate slop. She sabotaged their business with swift vengeance, and her aunt's company collapsed overnight.

=====

"You've weathered countless storms over the years. Welcome home, Arabella."

At the celebratory dinner, a young man in a perfectly tailored suit found himself unwilling to look away from Arabella Stanley.

She possessed an otherworldly beauty, her sharp features sculpted with precision and wrapped in an aura of cool detachment.

Her piercing eyes revealed nothing of her inner thoughts, and when she spoke, her voice carried the same arctic chill. "I'm leaving now."

Joshua Willis, the young man, seized the moment without hesitation. "Allow me to drive you home."

Arabella offered no resistance.

The car glided through the night. The city lights blurred past as Joshua stole glances at her profile.

"When do you plan to return to the company? Our empire continues to flourish."

Their partnership had begun years ago through a chance project, and Joshua had witnessed Arabella's brilliance firsthand.

He had persuaded her to join forces, and together they had forged a company that now dominated the entire industry.

Arabella maintained her measured tone. "I'll decide when the time feels right. For now, I simply want to reach home."

"Understood completely. You must be eager to reunite with Daisy. She's undoubtedly thriving. I've been directing all the premium projects to your aunt's husband throughout these years." Joshua's grin widened as he angled for recognition.

Arabella and her twin sister Daisy Stanley had lost their parents at the tender age of six, and their aunt Meagan Tucker had stepped in to care for them both.

Arabella acknowledged him with a subtle nod. "I appreciate that."

Her delicate fingers found the cherry blossom pendant resting against her throat, clicking it open to reveal a treasured photograph of herself and Daisy.

Arabella's expression remained stoic in the image, but Daisy's smile blazed with pure joy.

Studying her sister's radiant face, Arabella felt an unfamiliar warmth soften her features.

After their parents' tragic death, Arabella and Daisy had become each other's entire world. Daisy had always been their family's ray of sunshine, illuminating every room she entered.

At twelve, Arabella had been handpicked by the government for a classified operation that consumed seven years of her life. Now that the mission had concluded, she could finally return to Daisy.

She had forwarded nearly every government paycheck to her sister, ensuring Daisy lived in comfort and security.

Joshua's eyes widened in amazement as he witnessed Arabella's smile.

The legendary ice queen was actually smiling?

His curiosity about Arabella's sister intensified dramatically.

The car approached an upscale residential community, where each house boasted its own meticulously maintained garden.

The vehicle glided to a stop in front of a house.

This was the home Arabella's parents had bequeathed to them, now shared between Meagan and Daisy.

The estate glowed with warm light, alive with the sound of cheerful laughter.

Daisy seemed to be flourishing beautifully.

With that thought in mind, Arabella preserved her gentle smile as she crossed into the front yard.

A weathered doghouse sat in the corner of the property.

Someone knelt beside it in the shadows.

Through the dim evening light, Arabella couldn't distinguish the person's features, but she watched them scooping food directly from the bowl placed on the ground.

Why would someone be eating beside the doghouse?

Concern creased her brow as Arabella approached cautiously.

The figure appeared startled and scrambled quickly into the doghouse.

Arabella's bewilderment deepened. Then a soft, trembling voice drifted from within the shelter.

"Please don't strike me again. I won't make any mistakes. I'll be so much more careful..."

That voice belonged to Daisy.

Arabella's heart shattered instantly. She lunged forward, pulling the figure from the doghouse. Even in the pale moonlight, she recognized her beloved sister immediately.

Daisy stared back, her eyes swimming with disbelief. "You..." she breathed, as though she feared her mind was playing cruel tricks on her.

"Daisy, is that truly you?" Arabella's voice trembled with disbelief.

When Daisy nodded weakly, a glacial fury erupted within Arabella, her eyes igniting with volcanic rage.

"Bella..." Daisy whispered, still trapped in shock. "You've actually come back?"

The moment felt impossibly surreal to Daisy, like a vision conjured from desperate longing.

Arabella, sensing something terribly wrong, reached out to touch Daisy's forehead. Her skin burned with fever.

Before Arabella could process this discovery, Daisy crumpled into her arms like a broken doll.

Arabella cradled her sister, whose body felt heartbreakingly frail and ice-cold despite the raging fever consuming her.

Arabella's heart crystallized into something harder than diamond.

The front door of the house suddenly burst open with violent force.

"Daisy, you worthless creature! It's been several minutes, and you're still not finished eating? Get inside immediately and wash those dishes!" Meagan's voice sliced through the night air like a bl**e.

Arabella pivoted slowly, her predatory gaze locking onto her target.

Meagan had transformed dramatically over the years.

Once haggard and perpetually exhausted, she now radiated wealth and privilege, adorned in an expensive designer coat and gleaming jewelry that caught the porch light, presenting herself as the very embodiment of refined elegance.

Meagan's bl**d turned to ice under Arabella's lethal stare. "You... Arabella? When did you arrive?"

"What have you done to her?" Arabella advanced with calculated steps, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper.

Meagan instinctively retreated, unsettled by the predatory intensity burning in Arabella's eyes. But she quickly rallied her confidence, reminding herself that Arabella was still just a young woman.

She twisted her lips into a cruel sneer. "Daisy shattered a dish, so I administered appropriate punishment. You've been absent for years. Do you possess any understanding of how challenging life has been here? I never allowed her to starve or sleep without shelter. If you weren't my brother's daughters, I wouldn't have wasted my time with either of you."

In one fluid motion, Arabella's hand shot out and seized Meagan by the throat, her expression transforming into something carved from arctic stone.

Meagan ga**ed desperately, clawing at Arabella's iron grip. "Let... me... go..."

"This is my house," Arabella declared, her voice carrying the finality of a death sentence, her eyes radiating lethal intent.

"You forced Daisy to perform menial labor. You made her sleep in that doghouse like an animal. You possess remarkable audacity, Meagan."

In the warm light streaming from the house, Arabella finally saw what Daisy had been consuming. It was the leftover food.

Holding her sister, who felt as weightless as a dying bird and appeared ghostly pale and utterly drained, Arabella felt her heart shatter into countless pieces.

Her precious sister had endured this nightmare!

"Meagan," Arabella said, her voice saturated with deadly promise, "when you moved into our home, you swore a sacred oath that you would care for Daisy."

Meagan bristled at Arabella's bold use of her first name, the disrespect cutting deep.

But she shrank backward when she witnessed the murderous gleam dancing in Arabella's eyes.

Arabella had always been fundamentally different from other children. She was cold and fearlessly bold.

When Arabella had lived here, Meagan had performed the role of a dutiful aunt, though barely meeting even the lowest standards.

But the moment Arabella departed, Meagan had seized absolute control, systematically crushing the gentle-spirited Daisy beneath her cruel authority.

She had never imagined Arabella would return to witness her crimes.

"I did take care of Daisy! She made a mistake, so I disciplined her accordingly. What's so terrible about that?"

Meagan's words died in her throat as Arabella's grip tightened mercilessly, making her feel as though death itself was reaching for her soul.

"Arabella?" The violent commotion finally drew the attention of the people inside. Meagan's husband and daughter noticed the deadly confrontation unfolding at their door.

Through the wide open front door, Arabella observed them living luxuriously in a spacious and magnificently decorated villa, with a table overflowing with exquisite delicacies.

The people inside wore expensive clothing that spoke of comfort and abundance.

Meanwhile, Daisy had been sleeping in a doghouse, consuming leftovers. Arabella's eyes burned with unshed tears as the devastating truth crashed over her with overwhelming force.

Chapter 2 Can You Check Who Made The Payment

Khloe Tucker was fuming.

"Let go of my mom, Arabella! Back then, she offered to take care of you and Daisy out of kindness. Is that how you repay her? You show up after disappearing for years, acting like you're some kind of hero? What, did you run off, get pr**nant, and have a kid or something? What a joke!"

Khloe threw Arabella a nasty glare, but deep down, she actually hoped Arabella might stay. Having her back would mean more help around the house.

But Arabella's eyes had already gone cold. Without saying a word, she entered the house and kicked the dining table hard.

Dishes flew everywhere, crashing onto the floor and shattering into pieces.

Before anyone could react, Arabella grabbed two vases and hurled them straight at Khloe and her father.

They hit them squarely, and bl**d started trickling down their faces as they screamed in shock.

Her voice was ice. "You've got one day. Get out of my house." Without waiting for a reply, she stormed out with Daisy in her arms.

She flagged down the first taxi she saw and rushed her sister straight to a hospital.

Back at the villa, chaos broke out.

"Mom! That psycho actually attacked me!" Khloe sobbed, staring at the scratches on her face in the mirror. "What if I'm left with scars?"

Meagan's fury boiled over. "She's gotten way too bold after all these years! If she shows her face again, she won't be so lucky. We're not nobodies anymore. We've joined hands with Norman Group. There's no way she can stand against us!"

She gave Khloe a comforting pat. "Don't worry, honey. I'm taking you to a hospital right now."

***

At the hospital, the doctor examined Daisy and frowned. "Her leg's been broken for a while, and she's covered in bruises. Some of her teeth are missing too. What kind of sister lets this happen?"

Arabella's voice was low. "It's my fault."

Her bangs fell over her eyes, hiding whatever she was feeling inside.

The doctor, noticing how quiet she was, spoke gently. "I've done what I could for now. But if someone's been hurting you two, you need to report it. Keeping quiet won't fix anything."

Arabella gave a small nod and moved to stand beside Daisy's hospital bed.

Daisy, now nineteen, looked heartbreakingly fragile. Her thin frame looked like it couldn't support itself, and her wrists seemed more like twigs than limbs.

Her short hair was uneven, dry, and choppy, like someone had taken scissors to it without a second thought.

Arabella gently lifted the blanket, and her heart dropped.

Daisy's skin told a horrifying story. Old whip marks crisscrossed her legs, and dark burn spots marred her arms.

Each scar screamed of cruelty. Arabella's breath caught, and before she could stop them, tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Bella..." Daisy's voice was barely a whisper.

Arabella immediately reached for her hand. "I'm here," she said softly.

"I... missed you," Daisy murmured, her voice hoarse.

Arabella clutched her hand like a lifeline. "I missed you too. I thought if I worked hard, I could give you a better life. But I was wrong. I never should've left you alone. I swear, I'm not going anywhere again."

The warmth in Arabella's voice seemed to melt Daisy's tension. Slowly, her expression softened.

After making sure Daisy was settled, Arabella went to sort out the payment.

"The charges have already been covered," the nurse said with a kind smile.

Arabella blinked. "What? Who paid?"

Joshua crossed her mind, but she quickly dismissed the thought. There was no way he knew about this yet.

"Can you check who made the payment?" she asked.

The nurse gave an apologetic shake of the head. "Sorry, that information's private. Maybe a family member helped out?"

At the word family, Arabella's face turned to stone. She gave a short nod and walked off without another word. If someone had helped, she was going to find out who.

Meanwhile, down the corridor, Meagan strolled beside her daughter, Khloe, who was fresh out of the emergency room with her face patched up.

"I'm not letting Arabella walk away from this," Khloe snarled, bitterness burning in her voice.

"Calm down," Meagan said sharply. "You'll reopen your stitches if you keep flaring up like this. Be more like your sister--grace under pressure."

That seemed to cheer Khloe up. A smug smile tugged at her lips.

"As long as my sister keeps shining, that's all that matters. She's the youngest dancer in the Griridge Troupe now. Daisy really thought she could outshine her? She was delusional. That broken leg was karma, if you ask me. And if my sister finds out how Arabella treated me--oh, she'll tear her apart."

"She's got a big show coming up," Meagan reminded her. "Let's not distract her. One step at a time."

She tapped Khloe's nose lightly, but then her expression stiffened as she spotted Arabella ahead.

Khloe saw Arabella too, and just the sight of her brought back the sting of humiliation. Her rage boiled over.

Without thinking, she grabbed her studded handbag and swung it with all her strength toward Arabella's back.

Arabella's instincts kicked in. Just as she turned around, a tall man came into view. With quick reflexes and strong arms, he grabbed the bag mid-air by its strap, stopping it like it was nothing.

The sudden pull made Khloe lose her balance, and with a startled scream, she fell to the floor.

Chapter 3 Grab Your Things And Come With Me

"Khloe!" Meagan hurried to her daughter's side, helping her up while shooting a vicious glare at the man who had shown up out of nowhere.

"Who the h**l are you? Arabella's new guy or what?"

The man didn't bother responding. His sharp eyes gave nothing away, cold and unreadable, like the still, deep sea that hid its danger.

Then he began walking toward Meagan, each step loud and heavy on the hospital floor.

Meagan instinctively took a step back. Her ch**t tightened, making it hard to breathe.

Deep down, something told her this man wasn't just any stranger--he was trouble.

Trying to mask her unease, she snapped, "Arabella, you'd better think twice before crossing us again. You and your sister were lucky we let you stay at all! If you ever want back in, come crawling, and maybe we'll consider it."

Yanking Khloe's arm, Meagan stormed off.

Arabella stood silently, watching them go. Let them stay? That house was legally Daisy's and hers.

She glanced at the man and caught sight of a pi**ol, just for a second, before it disappeared beneath his jacket. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Who was this guy?

He turned and looked directly at her. Arabella finally saw his face--handsome as h**l, rough around the edges, and those icy eyes didn't blink or soften for anyone.

He gave off a vibe that screamed danger--Arabella had never felt anything like it.

No surprise Meagan bolted--anyone with sense would have.

"Arabella Stanley," he said. His tone was calm and low, but there was a chill in it that made her skin prickle.

Arabella glanced him over. "You're the one who paid for my sister, right?"

He gave a faint nod. "You're quick. Grab your things and come with me."

Arabella's brows drew together. "Excuse me?"

Who even was this guy, showing up with mystery and attitude?

Before things got tenser, another man stepped in--less intimidating but equally serious.

"Miss Stanley, allow me to explain. This is Mr. Asher Gordon. His father and your dad served together in the military. Before his father passed away, he asked Mr. Gordon to watch over your family. Mr. Gordon only recently returned from service and has been trying to track you down since."

That explained the military presence, the icy calm... the way he moved like someone trained for war.

Arabella studied Asher again. He didn't seem threatening now, but just closed off, like someone with a wall too thick to climb over.

She stayed calm. "You got anything to back that up? Anyone can say that."

Asher reached into his pocket and pulled out a weathered photo.

It showed two men in dusty uniforms--one was definitely her father. The other looked a lot like him.

She stared at it for a long moment before replying, "I'll think about it."

"Fair. Let's exchange numbers," Asher replied without any small talk.

Arabella added his contact. His WhatsApp display was just a solid black box.

Funny enough, hers was the same.

A strange little coincidence, she thought.

Then the assistant added her as well. "Dominick Powell, Mr. Gordon's right hand. Reach out if you need help with anything, anytime."

Arabella gave a nod. "Got it."

With that, the two men walked off, and Arabella made her way back to Daisy's room.

Shortly after, two silent, suited bodyguards appeared at the door--they were clearly sent by Asher.

Arabella didn't ask questions. She got to work helping Daisy clean up--changing her into fresh clothes and gently washing her hair, trying to fix its brittle, uneven mess.

But when she saw the scars and ci**rette burns covering Daisy's body, her eyes welled up again.

Holding back her tears, she carefully rubbed her homemade cream onto the wounds. Then, without wasting a second, she opened her laptop.

She had to find out what had happened to Daisy while she was gone, so she hacked into the villa's security system.

Sadly, what she saw made her sick to her stomach.

It wasn't long after Arabella left that Daisy was thrown out of her own bedroom and made to sleep in a doghouse.

The cheerful, lively sister Arabella remembered didn't smile anymore.

She saw footage of Daisy juggling multiple part-time jobs, only to get ha**ssed and pushed around.

Even so, she kept working hard and made it into one of the top universities. But during her very first semester, she ended up with a broken leg.

She was studying dance, and just like that, the injury shattered everything she had dreamed of.

The pieces fell into place too easily. Khloe's sister, Elissa Tucker, was in the same class. Arabella's gut told her that leg injury hadn't been some fluke.

After that, Daisy barely left the house. She was treated like hired help, scrubbing floors, cooking meals, and still sleeping out in that d**n doghouse.

Yet every time Daisy texted her, it was the same lie. "I'm doing fine. Don't worry about me. You just take care of yourself."

Arabella's vision blurred.

While her sister was being broken piece by piece, their aunt's family was thriving. Their business had taken off, thanks to a lucrative deal with the Vanguard Group.

Khloe, a middle school dropout, was suddenly a digital influencer. Elissa was famous and popular in the college.

Meagan was rubbing shoulders with high-society ladies, and her husband had become some corporate hotshot.

Arabella clenched her jaw and slammed her fist against the table. She didn't even feel the sting.

Every bit of success she had worked for... had only served to feed that vile family's greed.

And the one person she had sworn to protect had suffered in silence the entire time.

Chapter 4 This Revenge Is Mine To Carry Out

Arabella took a slow breath, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and her eyes turned cold, like a fire had been snuffed out and replaced with ice.

Her fingers gripped her phone tightly as she made a call. "That major project--it hasn't been handed over to the Tucker Group yet, right? Cancel it. Completely." Her voice was calm but firm.

"And get to the Griridge Hospital. Now."

On the other end, Joshua sounded startled. "Arabella? What's going on?"

"You'll see when you get here. Bring a few things with you."

True to form, Joshua didn't waste time. Less than half an hour later, he rushed into the hospital, and the moment his eyes landed on the girl in the hospital bed, he froze like a statue.

She looked so much like Arabella--same face, but all color drained, bruised, battered, her body wrecked like it had been thrown away and forgotten.

Joshua's fists clenched. "Who did this? Tell me who it was. I'll make them pay, I swear it!"

That was the sister of a preeminent figure... and they treated her like this?

Arabella didn't flinch. "I'll handle it myself. Slowly," she muttered, picking up a pair of sc**sors from the table.

Before Joshua could react, the sc**sors had already cut through her long, silky hair. The strands dropped to the floor in silence.

He stared, stunned. "Arabella... you're not actually..."

"I am," she said. "This revenge is mine to carry out."

Joshua swallowed hard, goosebumps rising on his arms.

The way she said it--it was clear. H**l was coming for someone.

Arabella glanced at him. "Also, what do you know about the Gordons?"

"The Gordon family?" He immediately straightened.

"They're legendary. Way beyond the top elite families. Super wealthy, but incredibly discreet. I've only ever worked with the right-hand man of their current CEO."

"You mean Dominick Powell?" Arabella asked casually.

Joshua's jaw dropped. "Wait, you know Dominick? Don't tell me... are you saying the Gordons were involved in what happened to Daisy?"

Arabella gave him a blank stare before calmly explaining Asher's connection and what he had said earlier. Joshua slapped his thigh, clearly overwhelmed.

"Asher Gordon? If it's really him, then yeah, no one's faking that. He leads the family. Rumor has it he's ex-special forces, quiet as a ghost, but deadly. If someone crosses him, they don't get a second chance."

Arabella didn't react. She just stared at the floor, her thoughts turning in circles.

Then she spoke, steady and cold. "You should head out now. Also... sell my villa."

Joshua hesitated. "That place... that's your parents' home. Are you sure?"

Arabella looked over at Daisy's fragile frame. "She was tortured in that house. There's no comfort left there. Just get rid of it."

Her voice cracked slightly. "And if possible, find a buyer who's impossible to deal with."

Joshua gave her a long look, then nodded. "Understood. I've got a bunch of properties lined up. If you ever need a place, it's yours."

"Thanks."

She didn't look up, and Joshua, sensing she needed space, quietly slipped out the door.

Left alone, Arabella gently held Daisy's hand and murmured, "I swear, everyone who hurt you... I'll make them pay for it tenfold."

That night felt endless, and sleep didn't come.

Chapter 1 Second Chance

A sharp scream tore from Thea Long's throat as she shot up in bed, her face pale.

After the Greatquake, humanity was thrown into chaos.

To snatch the last piece of an energy bar, her boyfriend Clay Hampton and her best friend Kora Gill had driven a dagger straight into her temple. She had felt the warm rush of blood as everything went dark.

Wait—what was going on? I had died. I'm sure of it.

She looked around. The furnishings struck her as strangely familiar. After a moment, she realized—this was the apartment she had rented during her junior year of college.

On the nightstand sat a pink phone, the very same one she had used back in school. Later, during the Floodfall Age, she had lost it while scavenging for supplies—it had slipped into the water and been ruined for good.

With trembling hands, she unlocked the phone. The screen showed the date and time clearly: March 23, 2024, 11:12 a.m.

Thea's eyes widened. Could it be ... I had been reborn?

She climbed out of bed and walked to the balcony. Down below, children laughed as they played. A few retired folks sat together at a table, chatting over a card game.

It had been a long time since she had seen a peaceful scene like this.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She picked it up, and tears immediately streamed down her cheeks. "Mom ... "

Back then, she had been studying at a university far south in Soland. When the world collapsed, she hadn't had time to get home. At first, phone service still worked, and she could reach her parents off and on.

But once the Floodfall came and drowned the coastal cities, all communication and travel had collapsed.

Her dad spent every last cent to buy a speedboat and went south to find her—but he never returned.

Her mom stayed home with her little brother in their sixth-floor apartment. The place had a small attic, and her cautious parents had stockpiled food and supplies before the apocalypse.

But soon after her father's departure, vicious neighbors broke in with a gang of thugs. They drove her mom and brother out.

Not long after, both were killed in an acid rain and died tragically.

She had only learned the truth much later, when she staggered home after the storm ended.

By then, she had seen too much darkness on the road trip traveled to the north. She was no longer that innocent girl.

After carefully planning, she took revenge, killing the neighbors who had seized her family's home. Her fierce, blood-chilling rage terrified the few survivors left in the building.

Then she gathered what was left of her mother's and brother's corroded remains and buried them before heading to the Survivor Settlement set up by the government.

And that was where she had run into Clay and Kora again—the very two who had stolen her supplies and thrown her out of her rented apartment after the apocalypse began.

"Thea, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Naomi Long's voice came through the line. Hearing her daughter crying, she panicked, even calling her by the nickname from childhood. "Did something happen? Did you fight with a classmate?"

"No, no." Thea wiped her tears and took a shaky breath. "Mom, I just ... I just miss you so much."

She missed her with all her heart.

Eight years. After eight long years, she was finally hearing her mother's voice again. The joy was almost too much to bear.

"That's it? You're already a junior, and still this homesick? What's going to happen once you're married?" Naomi teased.

Thea sniffled and protested, "I'm not getting married. I just want to stay with you and Dad forever."

"Alright, alright. You'll be our daughter for life then." Naomi laughed warmly.

But deep inside, Thea swore to herself that this time, she would protect her parents and brother at all costs. She would drive away every villain. She would make sure her family lived safely, even in the end of the world.

"Thea," Naomi went on, "you and Clay went on that trip to the Zosea, didn't you? I'll wire you more money to cover your living expenses."

Only then did Thea remember. In her last life, right after winter break, she and Clay had gone on a trip to Zosea.

Clay had told her that most of his allowance was gone and asked her to cover the costs for now. He promised he'd pay her back once they returned.

Because she agreed, Clay spent freely the entire trip. He demanded the best food and nice hotels, never once holding back.

In just nine days, they had wasted more than 20,000 dollars.

On top of that, he had his eye on a piece of jewelry at a tourist shop—an emerald amulet. To Thea, it looked ordinary and not worth the price, but Clay insisted he borrow money from her to buy it.

So she gave him her last 10,000 dollars.

Clay was tall and handsome, but he came from a modest family.

Thea, on the other hand, had always felt insecure because of the birthmark on her face. That insecurity made her give in to him again and again. They had been dating for more than a year, and most of the expenses came out of her pocket.

When she got into a top university, her parents threw a celebration party for her. Every bit of cash gift from relatives and family friends was given to her. Together, it added up to about 60,000 dollars.

But after she started dating Clay, all of it was gone.

That trip to Zosea was the last straw. Clay had called it a loan, but they both knew he had no intention of paying her back.

Thinking of this, Thea said into the phone, "Yeah, Mom, money's tight. Can you send me some more? Also, I was thinking of tagging along with Zera, one of the seniors, to apply for an internship at a big company. I want to buy a car too—it would make things easier."

Naomi went quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Jobs are tough to get now. Learning early is a smart move. But buying a car is a big decision. Let me talk to your dad first. Just the other day, he said the price of electric cars has gone down. Let him give you some advice."

"Alright," Thea agreed quickly.

Of course, she couldn't tell her parents the truth about her rebirth. But the need to stockpile supplies was urgent, so she had to use excuses to ask for more money.

When the call ended, her lips curved into a cold smile. Adding up everything from the past year and that trip, Clay owed her far more than 50,000 dollars.

She vowed to get it all back.

Today was March 23rd. There were only a couple of weeks left before the end of the world began. Every minute counted.

She turned back inside, changed clothes, and headed toward the door.

Passing the full-length mirror, she glanced at her reflection and stopped short.

On her left temple, there had always been a dark birthmark.

It was shaped like a jagged mountain range, about the size of a walnut. She'd been born with it.

Because of that birthmark, she had always felt less than others, even though her family was comfortable and her parents adored her. She was a pretty girl, but that single flaw made her self-conscious. Other than Clay, no boy had ever gone out of his way to chase after her.

That was probably why she had fallen so easily for Clay's sweet lies in the first place.

But now—her birthmark was gone.

Thea stared into the mirror. What looked back at her was a flawless face, smooth and fair, without a single blemish.

Where had it gone?

Before she could make sense of it, a strange image appeared in her mind. It was a giant, white shipping container—square, empty, and stretching over 800 square feet in size.

Thea had always enjoyed reading fantasy novels online. Looking at this bizarre space in her mind, she couldn't help but connect it to her missing birthmark.

Is that birthmark had been a storage space in disguise?

In her last life, Clay and Kora had stabbed her in the temple. Blood had poured from the wound, and she had died. Was that what had unlocked this space?

Could the birthmark have been the key all along?

Heart pounding, she decided to test it. She held up her jacket, focused on the thought, and—suddenly—it was gone from her hands. Her eyes widened. Inside the white storage space, the jacket now floated neatly in view.

She reached out, and in an instant, it reappeared in her grasp, unchanged.

Thea's breath caught. Her whole body trembled with excitement, her eyes shining bright.

Just moments ago, she had been worrying. Even with her knowledge of the future, even if she stockpiled supplies early, how could she possibly keep them safe? The apocalypse would bring the Floodfall, then the Megatsunami, the Inferno, Acidstorm, Icebound, Sundrought, the suffocating Everdark, and finally the Greatquake.

Humanity had been driven from place to place, never safe for long.

Even if she managed to hoard food with her parents, where would they keep it? How would they protect it from fire, floods, or blizzards?

But now the answer was right in front of her.

As long as this storage space could preserve things safely, she wouldn't have to worry at all.

Thea grabbed a pen and paper and quickly began sketching a list. She organized survival items in order of urgency. When she was finished, she slipped on a face mask and headed out the door.

Chapter 2 Stocking Up

The apartment she rented was close to the university—just a short walk outside and she was already in the University District.

It was Saturday, so the streets were crowded and lively. Groups of students strolled hand in hand, laughing and chatting.

Small diners and food stalls were packed, and the smell of food drifted through the air for blocks.

At first Thea didn't think much of it, but as soon as the savory scent reached her nose, her stomach growled loudly.

It had been years since she'd had a proper, filling meal. Back in her hardest days, she had survived on tree bark, weed roots, and even rat meat—and at the time, those had felt like a delicacy.

Her mouth watered. Thea headed straight to the deli she used to visit all the time—Gnocchi Deli. She ordered a huge portion of gnocchi, a sloppy joe, and a plate stacked high with mini bagels. Thea devoured them like she hadn't eaten in weeks. No one else knew, but she had spent countless nights in her past life starving, dreaming of the taste of this gnocchi.

When she was done, she packed up the four mini bagels that were left and carried them out.

She rode her scooter to a quiet spot and tested her storage space, putting the mini bagels inside to see if they would stay fresh.

Just as she was about to set off again, her phone buzzed with a text notification—60,000 dollars had been deposited into her account. Along with it came a short message from her mom.

"Go check out some cars, but don't buy anything yet. Your dad already bought a ticket—he'll be there tomorrow."

Dad is coming tomorrow? Of course—he's probably worried about me and wants to help me with the car.

A wave of emotion hit Thea, and her eyes stung.

Parents really were the ones who loved her the most. In her past life, her greatest regret had been not making it back in time to reunite with them.

This time, she swore, that mistake would never happen again.

She quickly changed her plans.

Originally, she wanted to buy what supplies she could and then head straight back to Joran. But money was tight, and the little she had was like a drop in the bucket.

Since her dad was coming, why didn't she ask her mom to come too?

The three of them could stockpile enough supplies together in Soland before heading back north to Joran. That way, even if someone noticed their hoarding, it wouldn't matter.

When the end of the world came, communication would break down and the roads would be blocked. From the south to the north, it was more than 600 miles.

Even if someone noticed how much food and supplies they had stored, no one would be able to do anything about it.

Thea called her mom right away. "Thanks, Mom, I got the money. Can you come with Dad tomorrow too?"

Naomi wanted to, but she hesitated. "I can't, sweetie. I'd be gone for a few days; who's going to take Dion to school? He can't just be left on his own."

Thea froze. She had completely forgotten about that. After a moment of thought, she suggested, "Sometimes Dion eats dinner at Ruth's house anyway. Maybe we could ask her to take him to school for a few days? It won't be long. Classes are going to shut down soon anyway."

Ruth Sarratt was an old lady who lived downstairs. She had been close to the Longs for years.

She had a grandson named Mario Sarrat, who was about seven years older than Thea. When Ruth was busy, Mario—or Maro, as they called him—used to eat at their house.

Later, when Thea was in school and her parents were busy with business, she would often go to Ruth's place for dinner.

Their families were close, so asking Ruth to look after Dion Long was something they could trust completely.

But Naomi caught on right away and pressed her, "Thea, what's going on? Why do you ask me to come along?"

Thea didn't even have to pretend. Just the memory of her family being torn apart in her past life made her nose sting and her voice catch.

"Mom, something's happening. Please, you and Dad should come tomorrow as soon as you can. And bring the savings account books from home."

Naomi's voice sharpened with worry. "What is it? Tell me now! Thea, are you ... pregnant?"

But she quickly realized that didn't make sense. Pregnancy alone wouldn't explain why Thea needed the savings books too.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Thea said softly. "Something's going on, but it's not safe to explain over the phone. Please don't panic. Just be careful on the way. We'll talk when we meet tomorrow."

Before her mom could ask more, Thea ended the call.

She knew her parents would worry, but it was the only way to get them to rush over right away.

Quietly, she apologized in her heart.

Then she changed her plan again. She rented a warehouse, then went to the used car market and picked up a beat-up van. After stripping out the back seats, she drove straight to the biggest farmer's market in Nodtol.

On the way, both Hunter Long and Naomi called her a couple of times. Each time she answered, Thea just urged them to get to Soland as soon as possible before hanging up.

At the market, she walked the aisles first, memorizing the prices. Once she had a clear picture, she picked the busiest shop that sold bulk grains and cooking oil.

Money was tight, so she pretended to be buying for the family business. "I'll take two tons of rice, two tons of flour," she said, "and about 2,000 pounds of grits, sorghum flour, cornmeal, brown rice, wild rice, and barley."

When she saw wheat and short-grain white rice—things her family often ate—she ordered 2,000 pounds of each.

She also stocked up on beans. Hunter loved eating kidney beans, especially in a hearty chili during the holidays. Pinto beans could be mashed into refried beans or cooked into a warm bean dip. Green beans were perfect for sprouting freshness at the table or turned into a casserole for hot summer days.

These were all essentials, so she bought 1,000 pounds of each. For the rest of the beans, she asked for a combined 1,000 pounds.

Since everything was at wholesale prices, the total came to just over 30,000 dollars.

The shop owner was a generous woman. With a wave of her hand, she said, "Sweetheart, you're buying a lot. I can't give you any more discounts, but I'll throw in two extra 50-pound bags of rice for you."

Free food was free food. Thea agreed right away.

It sounded like a massive haul, but in truth, two trips with the van were enough to move most of it.

The warehouse she had rented was big, so she simply drove the van inside, locked the doors, and transferred everything into her storage space.

By now, three hours had passed since she had put the mini bagels inside. She pulled them out. They looked exactly the same as when she had placed them in—still steaming faintly, as if fresh from the deli.

Her storage space could preserve food perfectly.

Relief washed over her, as if a heavy stone had finally been lifted from her heart.

Naomi had sent her 60,000 dollars, and she herself still had just over 2,000 dollars left.

After covering the most important staples—rice, flour, grains, and oil—she withdrew the last 28,000 dollars in cash and went shopping for seasonings.

To avoid suspicion, she didn't buy everything at once. At one store she bought 500 pounds of salt, then spread her purchases across a few others—spices, herbs, and other kitchen essentials—spending about 5,000 dollars.

She finished by picking up 500 pounds of sugar, which cost another 2,500 dollars.

At that point, she only had a few thousand dollars left, so she decided to spend it all on peanut butter, cheese spreads, canned tuna, and canned beef stew.

She knew from experience that once the world collapsed, these little luxuries would become priceless. People would trade anything for them.

A spoonful of canned food could turn plain grains into a feast, and the salt content kept them from spoiling.

In her last life, she had once stumbled into trading for two jars of mushroom steak sauce. She had stretched them out for months, eating just a little at a time.

Now, standing in front of shelves stacked neatly with jars and cans, her mouth watered. She wanted more, but her money wasn't enough.

She also needed shelving itself—without proper racks to organize things, her storage space would run out of room quickly.

She made a mental note of both items and drove the van back to the warehouse, unloading the full load into her space.

As she worked, she was already thinking about how she could force Clay to pay back what he owed her. Just then, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. Who else would it be but Clay?

A cold smile tugged at her lips. The birthmark on her face had always made her self-conscious.

That was why, when she got into one of the nation's top universities and the tall, charming student council president, Clay, had started chasing her, she had fallen so quickly.

Back then, she had no idea that beneath his handsome smile was a selfish, twisted heart. Only after living through the nightmare of the apocalypse had she seen his true nature.

She pressed the answer button.

Clay's smooth voice came through right away. "Babe, what do you want for dinner tonight? I'll cook something and bring it over."

The Evaluation

ARIN

I stared at the wooden podium set in the center of Solmere's main square. My heart pounded, and a thin layer of cold sweat coated my forehead. I'd been thrilled when I'd learned that the emissaries from the most prestigious academy would visit our town, but now, as the meeting was about to begin, my insides began to twist.

No one truly knew why the emissaries had come. Rumors had it that they were looking for those with unique powers. Allegedly, the three royal Alpha families had founded special scholarships for a few lucky ones. Landing such a scholarship could have been like the greatest gift from the Goddess. The only problem was that I had never been lucky, and as a wolfless Omega, I doubted I held any unique power, but the girl could still dream… right?

“What is she even doing here?” A not-so-discreet comment made me flinch. “Shouldn't she be, I don't know, cleaning your house or something?”

I curled my hands into fists and concentrated on breathing. I didn't dare turn around to see who had said it. Then again, I didn't have to. It had to be one of Alette's friends, and I could bet that the Alpha's mean daughter herself stood somewhere close, too.

“Father said that the Mystic Flame Academy's emissaries wanted every eighteen-year-old to show up here. No exceptions,” Alette's high-pitched, nasally voice buzzed behind me. “Even the filthiest and most useless ones.”

That last comment had been meant for me, but I ignored it. I wouldn't let her provoke me. Not today. Not in front of the people who could change my life.

I rolled my shoulders back and kept my eyes on the podium. Alpha Reis ascended the steps first, then sauntered to the back of the dais, leaving the front to the three men in long black robes. Murmurs spread through Solmere's main square. It seemed like more than half of our town had come here to support their children or friends. Unlike those around me, I had no one to support me; I had a lot of people to mock me instead. But I wouldn't give up. I had even prepared a speech to help me prove I could become an excellent healer. Once they let me speak—

“There will be no speeches or written tests today.” For me, the emissary's words were like a punch in the gut, but the rest of the young wolves on the square sighed in relief.

The emissary pulled down his hood, exposing his wrinkled face framed in a mass of reddish and silver hair. He stepped to the edge of the podium and smoothed his beard. His gray eyes met mine for a heartbeat, and my breath hitched. That man oozed power. I could bet he was a ranked wolf, someone from a noble family. But why would the academy send someone like him as a simple envoy traveling from town to town?

“I will ask you to come forward, and the amulet will decide whether you are worthy of studying in the academy or not.” He pulled out a round, blue crystal from his pocket and squeezed it in his hand.

The first five wolves climbed the podium as the rest of us formed a long line. The red-haired emissary stepped toward the first candidates, frowning. His evaluation hadn't lasted longer than a few seconds before he called out, “Next!”

And that was it. They failed… or at least, it seemed that way. I swallowed, then moved a few steps forward as another five candidates presented themselves before the emissaries. “Next!”

Chills licked the nape of my neck, and the tiny sliver of hope I had began to fade. Alette pushed in front of me and huffed. “Why would you even want to go there? You think that one of the Alpha heirs would want a useless bitch like you as his future Luna?”

My jaw clenched. Everyone knew that all the most powerful Alpha heirs of the Lunamoor Empire studied in the Mystic Flame Academy. If someone wanted to climb up the social ladder, the academy was a perfect place for it. But my dreams were much simpler. I wanted to live in a small town with a loving mate by my side and heal people there. I'd never cared about ranks or politics.

“Unlike you, Alette, some want to go to the academy to study,” I strained through my teeth.

“Oh, please!” Alette folded her arms across her chest. “Who do you want to fool? I bet you're thinking that you can charm someone with that innocent face of yours, but you can forget about it.” Her blue eyes roamed up and down my body, and her lips curled up in a cold smile. “If anyone from our town gets that scholarship, it will be me.”

A few remarks formed on the tip of my tongue, but I sealed my mouth before any of them could slip free. Not because I believed that Alette was right, but because, no matter how much I hated her, I couldn't say anything to offend Alpha Reis's daughter. Drawing a deep breath, I turned toward the podium again.

“Next!” called out one of the envoys, and I forced my feet to climb the steps.

A shiver skidded down my spine. This was it—a trial that could change my life. Alette, her three friends, and I stood in line, waiting to be assessed. We were the last candidates. The reddish-haired man approached us, and my insides twisted.

“You!”

My heart all but stopped as I saw his finger pointing at me. Beside me, Alette burst into laughter, and her spiteful friends followed suit. I didn't move. I wasn't sure I was still breathing as the emissary inched toward me.

“Who are you?” he asked.

My throat worked on a hard swallow. “I'm Arin Knox,” I choked out, and a wave of snickering spread throughout the square.

His gray eyes squinted. “Rank?”

I cleared my throat. “Omega.”

He huffed out a laugh, and a wave of embarrassment flooded me whole.

“She's just an orphan!” someone from the crowd shouted. “She's wolfless!”

Alette stepped forward and dropped into a curtsy. “I apologize for her, Sire. My father tried to be thorough and told every young wolf to come here. Clearly, he should have skipped omegas—”

“Remarkable,” the emissary whispered, his eyes on me. A feral smile curved his lips, and all my muscles tensed. “I'm one of the professors at the Mystic Flame Academy. I want to offer you a special scholarship.”

I blinked, needing a moment to process it. “You want me… to study in the academy?” I breathed.

The professor shot me a look. “Do you have trouble hearing?”

A nervous laugh escaped my mouth. “No! I-I just… wanted to make sure…”

“She can't get that scholarship!” Alette snarled.

The professor turned to her, his bushy brows rising. “And why is that?”

Alette fisted her hands, anger burning in her eyes. “Because…. because… she cleans at our house! She's our slave! We won't let her leave!”

Fear flooded every inch of me. This was my chance—perhaps my only chance—to get out of here. I was so close!

Alette grabbed my arm, pulling me back as she stepped toward the emissaries. She might not have the authority to stop me from going, but her father certainly had. He had welcomed me into his pack, and he owned my life. Only a high-ranked member from one of the royal families could defy him.

The red-haired professor turned to Alpha Reis. “Is this true? Is she your slave?”

Blood drained from my face as Alpha stepped forward, the wooden boards rattling beneath his feet. His icy-blue eyes locked on me, and a deep frown appeared.

“Father, tell them!” Alette demanded.

Alpha Reis lifted his large arm, his finger pointing at me. “I gave her shelter when she was young. She will work until she dies to repay her debt.”

My stomach dropped. “Alpha… please!” I breathed as my eyes filled with tears.

“Did you shower her with gold and gems when she was a kid?” A woman's voice sounded. Another emissary lined up with the red-haired professor, lowering her hood. Her nearly white hair fell to her shoulders in shiny waves. She confidently stepped toward our Alpha and lifted her chin. “Well, did you?”

Alpha Reis blinked. “What?”

The white-haired woman clicked her tongue before turning to me. “You had to work to earn your keep, right?”

I nodded. “Y-yes… I'm… responsible for cleaning Alpha's mansion, doing laundry, and I often help in the kitchen, too.”

A sly smirk pulled at her lips. “And you have been working there since…?”

“Since I learned how to walk,” I answered quietly.

The female emissary whirled to our Alpha. “I believe she already paid her debt tenfold.”

Alpha Reis snarled. “I decide when her debt is paid!”

“How much do you want then?” the red-haired professor asked calmly.

My mouth dropped open. Was he trying to… buy me?!

Alpha Reis laughed, then scratched his beard. “How about fifty golden bars?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Holy Goddess! I would need more than two lifetimes to earn it!

“Done.” The professor extended his hand to Alpha Reis.

Alpha looked at his hand and huffed. “You can't give me that much gold.”

“I can't,” he agreed. “But my brother can and will.”

Alpha's eyes narrowed. “And who is that brother of yours?”

The professor smirked, then grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. “My name is Morvain Thornton, brother of Alpha Zorath Thornton.”

A wave of gasps rushed through the crowd. “Thornton?” I choked out. “One of the three royal Alphas ruling the empire… is your brother?”

The professor's eyes shifted to me. “That is correct.” A cunning smile stretched across his lips. “And whether you want it or not, I'm taking you to the academy.”

Passing the Gates

Everything had happened so fast that my head was spinning even three hours after I had left Solmere with the emissaries. They were traveling in beautiful golden carriages with velvet cushions on every seat. I had never seen anything more luxurious, and now I was inside one of those carriages, traveling to the academy. I had lost count of how many times I'd pinched myself to check that I wasn't dreaming.

A dumb smile stretched my lips each time I recalled the image of Alette shouting and screaming and Alpha Reis trying to tell her that he couldn't have done anything to stop me from leaving. The fury in their eyes had surely been one of the most satisfying things I'd ever seen. But despite everything that had happened, I was far from celebrating victory. I might have been free from Alpha Reis, but it looked like I had a new owner now, and he was sitting in front of me.

Mr. Thornton smoothed his beard and smiled at me. “Tell me more about yourself, Arin.” He was no longer wearing a robe, and as soon as he'd changed into leather pants and a jacket, he began to look more like a warrior than a professor.

I pulled back my brown hair behind my ear and took a deep breath. “Well, I'm… an orphan,” I started, feeling more awkward by the heartbeat.

His gray eyes studied me. “Do you know who your parents were?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “I heard a rumor once…”

“What rumor?” he urged.

“One of the maids said that I was brought to Alpha Reis by my mother.” A nervous smile curved my lips. “She was ill, and she couldn't take care of me, so she gave Alpha Reis ten golden bars for him to let me stay in his home. She was supposed to bring more gold… but she never showed up again.”

His brows rose. “And Alpha Reis has never confirmed that story, has he?”

“No,” I said quietly. “I was… beaten when I asked about it. Then I stopped asking.”

Mr. Thornton clicked his tongue. “I wouldn't be surprised if the story you heard was true…”

I met his gaze. “C-can I ask you a question, Sire?”

He snorted. “Call me Professor Thornton or Morvain.”

I sucked in a breath. “Professor Thornton… am I your slave now?”

He burst into laughter. “Why would you think that?”

My shoulders rose and fell in an awkward shrug. “You… or your family bought me for fifty golden bars.”

He nodded, smoothing his beard again. “Right. Guess it's logical for you to ask that, but… no. Let's call it a part of your scholarship.”

A wry smile curved my lips. “And… how many people got that scholarship?”

He pointed his finger at me. “You.”

I blinked. “And?”

“That's it.” He chuckled.

I frowned. “Why?”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. Then he pulled the blue crystal out of his pocket and showed it to me. “See this?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “You used it to evaluate us.”

“I bought it yesterday on the market.” He threw it up, then caught it. “It was… shiny. I thought it would look good.”

A nervous laugh escaped me. “Then how did you—”

“I have a gift,” he said. “I can sense the true power of my potential opponent, and I can spot talents and bring them to the academy.”

I nodded slowly. “So… that is why you travel from town to town—”

“Nah, that's a lie, too.” He shrugged. “I've been doing certain research, and that research led me to the towns in the eastern part of the empire. I followed a hunch. My brother and others agreed that I should bring this special wolf to the academy, should I find it.”

My voice dropped to a whisper. “And what's so special about me?”

Professor Thornton scratched his beard. “I don't know yet.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“We'll see after the day of the ceremony, although the fact that you're wolfless complicates things…”

Tension spread throughout my body. “Complicates… how?”

“No time to worry about it.” He dismissively waved his hand. “Now, tell me, you don't have a mate, do you?”

I laughed nervously. “I've never even had a boyfriend.”

“I was just curious…” He chuckled, then smoothed his beard. “But you want to have a mate, do you?”

Flusteredness flooded every inch of me. “I'm sorry, Professor Thornton, but… why are you asking these questions?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I'm only asking that because… a lot of young female students come to Mystic Flame Academy to find a ranked mate, so…”

I burst into nervous laughter. “I'm… I'm definitely not one of them. I want to study. I want to become a healer, and—”

“A healer?” His brows inched up. “You are aware that healers, agriculture specialists, and engineers are far from the top of the academy's hierarchy, aren't you?”

A wry smile curved my lips. “Well, I know that only those who are chosen as warriors gain special privileges, but an Omega cannot become a warrior.”

“Do you know how to fight?” he asked.

I nodded. “I trained for years, but mainly to protect myself. It's harder when you can't rely on your wolf's strength.”

A faint smile curved his lips. “And yet, you managed to survive.”

“I did.” I smiled back at him.

He leaned forward and patted my shoulder. “Then I'm sure you'll survive the academy, too.”

Shivers danced down my spine, and my insides began to tie into knots. “I will,” I murmured, summoning my courage. Then again, I wouldn't be the only Omega studying in the academy… right?

***

It was nightfall when we arrived at the massive gates of the Mistic Flame Academy. I put on my backpack and followed Professor Thornton through the nearly empty courtyard. My mouth opened as I surveyed the soaring towers of the magnificent academy's castle and the beautiful buildings surrounding it. A giggle bubbled in my throat at the thought that I would soon live here.

Smiling like an idiot, I looked around the courtyard, and my eyes landed on the tall, black-haired man heading in our direction. My mouth opened, and a wave of heat washed over my body. He was gorgeous. He might have been the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life, and judging by the flock of she-wolves following him, I wasn't the only one who thought that way.

“Have you bought a new student, Professor?” he all but purred, stopping in front of us. His dark, almond-shaped eyes landed on me, and his lips formed a sinful smile. “Hello, pretty little thing.”

My mouth watered. Holy Goddess! I used to think I couldn't be easily charmed. Then again, wolves living in Solmere had often ignored me, so it'd been easier for me to ignore them. I had never been called pretty, either. And yet, this man was like an embodiment of seduction, and for some reason, his entire attention was on me. I swallowed and forced myself to respond, but what came out of my mouth was quite an embarrassing squeak: “Hello.”

I quickly shifted my eyes to the girls flanking him and smiled, but they responded with cold glares and frowns. Well… some things remained the same no matter where I was.

The professor sighed, then gestured at the tower of muscles standing before us. “Arin, this is our third-year student, Ren Kazekami.”

“Arin.” The way he rolled my name on his tongue made me clench my thighs. “Pretty name for my new girlfriend.”

A hysterical laugh escaped me. I knew that he was only joking, but my body didn't seem to care. I wanted to slap myself for my dumb reactions, but the way he looked at me…

“Ren, give her a break,” Professor Thornton said coldly before grabbing my arm and guiding me toward the path leading to the castle.

“See you around, Arin.” Ren's deep voice sounded behind me, and my whole body shivered.

Shoving away my inappropriate thoughts, I quickened my steps and lined up with the professor. “He was… an Alpha heir, wasn't he?”

Professor Thornton smiled wryly. “One of the three royal Alpha heirs currently studying here.”

“Got it.” I nodded, pressing my lips into a thin line.

There had to be something seriously wrong with the air around this academy. It seemed like all my primal instincts had happily awakened the second I'd passed the gates. I was beginning to hope that the remaining two Alpha heirs weren't as hot as the first one. Otherwise, I might quickly find myself in serious trouble…

We entered the main castle building, and Professor Thornton led me up the black marble stairs. We reached a long hallway when he suddenly stopped and pulled a key out of his pocket. “I need to talk to the school board, and I'm already late. This is the key to my office. Wait for me there.”

I took the key from his hand and nodded. “And… where can I find your office, Professor?”

“Go to the stairs at the end of the hall and down to the second floor,” he said. “Then look for a dark-brown door with my name on it.”

“I'll try not to get lost.” A nervous chuckle slipped through my lips.

Professor Thornton gave me a curt nod before turning around and rushing through the hallway. I drew a deep breath and corrected the shoulder straps of my heavy backpack. I almost reached the staircase when I saw a few she-wolves heading in my direction. I recognized them immediately. They were the ones who had glared at me before. I gave them another faint smile and nod before turning to the stairs. I began to descend when someone pushed my back—

“Shit!” My backpack swayed forward, stealing my balance. I stretched my arms to the sides, but it was too late. I was already flying down. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for a very awkward and hard landing.

I collided with something hard, but it didn't stop my fall. A pair of strong arms wrapped around me a heartbeat before a rough hit knocked the air out of my lungs. “For 's sake,” a growl sounded.

Gasping, I opened my eyes and realized I was lying on a man's chest—an insanely chiseled man's chest. Swallowing hard, I jerked my head up and met a pair of stunning blue eyes. “Um… I'm sorry,” I breathed.

His eyes turned icy cold. The power radiating from him sent a shiver down my spine.

“Hey, Thornton!” A male voice laughed. “Catching fresh meat already?”

“Thornton?” I choked out as his blue eyes turned red. I pulled myself up, straddling him. My damn backpack messed with my balance, pinning me down in the most embarrassing way. I tried to move my hips, but instead of lifting my ass, I awkwardly slid back and forth. Finally, I threw the dead weight off my shoulders. “You are… the Alpha heir…”

“Yes,” he strained through his teeth before grabbing my hips. He moved, and a heartbeat later, my back hit the marble floor, and he rose above me. “And you have three seconds to tell me who the you are.”

Attraction

All thoughts abandoned me. His face was an inch above mine, his muscled arms on the sides of my head. My legs were parted, and his crotch was pressed against the center between my thighs. Of all embarrassing moments in my life, this one was certainly the worst, especially since we were in the middle of the hallway with more than a few people gathering around us. Thornton, however, didn't seem to care about the way he lay on top of me or the crowd.

“I asked you a question.” His burning eyes pierced right through me.

I drew a deep breath through my nose and immediately cursed myself for it. He smelled like all my erotic fantasies combined mixed with hot spice. A weak moan slipped through my lips before I could seal them. Mortified, I looked into his eyes, but then realized I wasn't the only one who was inappropriately agitated. The part of him between my thighs hardened and grew…

I sucked in a sharp breath. “I'm… Arin Knox… I will study here,” I rasped.

“Will?” His lips all but brushed against mine.

“I will… participate in the ceremony… tomorrow.”

They called her a fraud and sent her away, never knowing she was the real heiress they’d stolen from. When she returned, the entire elite circle trembled at her name.

=====

Chapter 1 Kicked Out Of Home

Nicolas Kirk's hand trembled as he flung the bowl at Rylie Kirk's feet, the crash ringing out across the room. Bl**d stained his lips while fury contorted his face.

"How could you do such a thing? What kind of sister would wish harm on her own brother?" he said, his words splintered by a violent cough.

"I should've listened to Stacey. She warned me about the poison!"

Rylie's expression flickered as she looked down at the ruined medicine, disappointment shadowing her features.

"I keep telling you, Nicolas, there's nothing deadly in the medicine. It contains an ingredient that purges the old bl**d, which you need if you ever want to recover," said Rylie.

Watching the medicine soak into the carpet, she winced inwardly, knowing how much effort and money she had poured into finding the right remedy for her eldest brother.

Stacey Kirk, the adopted daughter of the Kirk family, stood at Nicolas' side, her arms wrapped protectively around the medical text that she always carried.

She raised her voice, tears prickling at her eyes. "Please, Rylie, just stop making excuses. Leland ran tests on your concoction, and the results were dangerous. It's full of toxins!"

Cold skepticism crossed Rylie's face as she met Stacey's gaze. "You complete f**l," Rylie said.

"There isn't a medicine in this world that's entirely safe, especially not for what Nicolas is suffering from. The only way to fight back is with a powerful dose. There's nothing mild that could work on him."

Stacey could barely contain her tears, her voice quivering as she pleaded with Rylie, "He's spitting up bl**d right in front of us, and you're still insisting this is the only way? We're just medical students, Rylie, not miracle workers. Don't put your pride above Nicolas' life."

Taking a shaky step toward Rylie, Stacey continued, her words thick with emotion, "I found a well-known specialist. He's already written a prescription that might actually save Nicolas. Admit you were wrong and let us try. Please."

Nicolas doubled over, hacking up bl**d, and fixed Rylie with a glare that burned with outrage.

"It wasn't enough that you fed me that mystery medicine, now you turn on Stacey too? If you had even a fraction of her compassion, things wouldn't have come to this," Nicolas snapped. "Apologize to her, right now!"

Rylie straightened her shoulders and faced Nicolas with an unflinching stare. "All I ever wanted was to help you. I have done nothing that warrants an apology. I owe her nothing."

Desperation twisted Nicolas' features as he scrambled to his feet, snatching a whip from the wall in a blind rage.

"That's it! You're going to push me into an early grave! Why can't you ever listen?" he shouted. "Get out! I don't want you here!"

Before the whip could lash out, Rylie shifted away, nimble and unafraid.

From the upper landing, someone's measured steps echoed, and a battered backpack landed at her toes.

Leland Kirk, her second brother, stood at the base of the stairs. His tone cut through the air.

"Let's lay it out plainly. You're just an outsider, and Stacey is our true sibling. We've kept this secret for your sake, hoping you wouldn't resent her, but today, we see just how cruel you can be. If you refuse to admit your mistakes, pack your things. We'll announce Stacey as our one and only sister. Your fortune goes with your name -- you'll have to go back to your birth family and live as they do."

Such a threat didn't faze Rylie. Years of living in the Kirk household had worn down her patience. However, the revelation that she was not bound to them by bl**d came almost as a blessing.

Her ch**t felt unburdened, lighter than it had in years. There was no need to waste any more of her knowledge or talent on a house that never valued her.

The thought had struck her as odd -- she always wondered why she stood out among siblings who never seemed to measure up.

"That suits me just fine." Rylie's voice held not a hint of regret.

With quick fingers, she snatched up the backpack, plucked a candy from the bowl, and let it dissolve on her tongue as she strode for the door.

Left in the hallway, Stacey could not hold back a grin of satisfaction. Five years of plotting had finally paid off.

With Rylie gone, she would be the Kirk family's prized daughter, adored and indulged by her brothers.

Still, she could not resist a final performance.

She darted after Rylie, her voice ringing out. "Rylie! Don't leave like this! You'll always have a place here! Please, don't make me feel like the villain. I'm begging you!"

Nicolas interjected sharply, "Enough, Stacey! Let her go. A heart as cold as hers belongs to her own impoverished family. She never deserved this home."

A cold laugh escaped Rylie when she overheard him. Was everyone in the Kirk family so easily fooled?

Did they genuinely believe that it was sheer luck that had brought Nicolas back to health, gotten him out of bed, and made him able to walk again?

Without her hands and her medicine, they'd see soon enough just how far good fortune could take him.

Drawing the hood over her head, Rylie let the breeze whip strands of hair across her vivid lips, a flicker of scorn glinting in her eyes.

...

Far away, inside the bustling capital city of Kouhron, the imposing Owen Mansion stood as a symbol of influence and wealth.

Within that opulent hall, Kendrick Owen struck his ornate cane against the marble floor. "You all promised she'd been located. Why is she still not here?"

Arrayed around him stood his three grandsons -- each a commanding presence in his own right, men whose names carried enough weight that even the highest government officials paid their respects.

Yet, despite their stature, the shadow of their missing youngest sister dimmed their confidence, and their faces bore deep lines of worry.

"Our search stalled in Crolens. According to the latest report, she spent some years in a mountain village, but after being trafficked, her whereabouts vanished from every record."

Agony creased Kendrick's expression. "For eighteen years, that child has been gone. Imagine the hardships she's endured in a place like that."

"Grandfather, there's been progress. One of the kidnappers came forward and claimed she was later sold to a rich woman in Crolens. We only need a bit more time -- her discovery is within reach."

Relief softened Kendrick's features. No trace of irritation remained as he rose from his chair, hope radiating from his gaze.

"In that case, let's not delay. I'm coming with you. We'll search together."

Chapter 2 Versatile Rylie

A heavy backpack slung over her shoulder, Rylie walked out of the Kirk residence without a backward glance, heading directly to the parking lot where her prized, limited-edition motorcycle waited.

Years of downplaying her skills and masking her sharpness for the sake of the Kirk family's fragile peace were finally behind her. Freedom now tasted real.

Down the city streets, her motorcycle roared, slicing through the afternoon air until she arrived at the imposing entrance of a gated community near a military compound.

At the checkpoint, security protocols ran tight as always, but the instant Rylie's motorcycle appeared, the guard broke into a broad smile and opened the gate wide.

"Miss Kirk, your visits are always a welcome surprise."

With a practiced motion, Rylie flipped up her visor and gave a polite nod.

Inside, cherry blossom petals scented the breeze, and several retired officers meandered beneath the blooming trees. Spotting her approach, they made their way over.

"Look who's back -- Rylie, I was just about to see you. I've run out of those pills you mixed up for me last time."

Her motorcycle came to a halt as she peeled off her helmet, her gentle features drawing nods of approval.

"You can swing by the clinic tomorrow. I'll be here all day if you need a refill."

Catching sight of another familiar face, she gestured toward an elderly man still sporting a neck brace. "As for you, I've told you before that brace is only making things worse for your neck."

An embarrassed grin spread across his face as he removed the brace. "Would you at least allow me to try a few easy exercises?"

"Take it slow, and don't do anything reckless," said Rylie, stepping inside an apartment building.

Long ago, her connection to this community began unexpectedly. During a visit to the Military General Hospital to buy medicine, she had encountered an elderly man suffering from epilepsy.

With a prescription that targeted his condition at the root, she gave him relief that no other doctor had managed.

That stranger turned out to be a celebrated, now-retired clinical specialist. Awed by Rylie's abilities, he insisted on calling her his savior and offered her an apartment in the community as thanks.

Easy rapport filled the community, and its prime location made life peaceful and convenient. In time, Rylie had come to see this place as the home that she had always needed.

As soon as she stepped inside her apartment, lights flickered on and a soft, familiar mechanical voice greeted her.

"Welcome home, Rylie. You've been gone for three days. There are two encrypted voicemails waiting, your email inbox has new messages, and your bath is ready."

Her backpack landed with a thud on the floor, sending the zipper flying open. A thick bundle of cash spilled out, scattering across the entryway.

She stared at the pile of bills, guessing that it must total around ten grand. The sound that escaped her lips was half a chuckle, half a sneer.

Was that really all the Kirks thought she was worth, tossing money her way like she was some beggar?

"Play my messages," she said.

Britton Davies' voice filled the room first, recorded late the previous evening.

"Hey, Rylie, registration for the relay's almost up -- two practice runs down already! Are you honestly still clinging to the Kirks? For real? I've been wiping the floor with Phillip these past few days!"

A slight arch in her brow gave away her recognition.

Phillip Kirk, her third brother, ran one of the most exclusive racing clubs in the world, churning out champions and stacking up prize money.

Long nights spent behind the wheel were her secret, pushing his team to one victory after another.

Yet each season, as the finals approached, Phillip would swap her out for Stacey, handing over the glory and the gold.

Year after year, her skills powered their success, but when the spotlight appeared, Stacey was ushered in for the celebration, leaving Rylie invisible to the crowd.

Trophies meant little to her. In those days, protecting her family's ego mattered more. But now...

A grin spread across her face as she called Britton. "I want half of the prize money."

Whatever disappointment Britton had felt vanished at once.

"Done! Phillip's team doesn't scare me. I've mapped out every move they make, but when you're behind the wheel, nobody can keep up. I never lose to him, Rylie -- I always lose to you!"

A small laugh escaped Rylie as she let out a soft sigh. "You've noticed it too. Funny how obvious it is, but they still manage to overlook everything I do."

Curiosity lit Britton's voice as he switched topics.

"By the way, something else came up. There's been chatter on the dark web about the Owen family -- the wealthiest folks in Kouhron. Word is, they're here in Crolens, searching for their missing daughter and throwing around serious money for information. Think we should get involved?"

Without hesitation, Rylie answered, "No interest. I have finals coming up, so I'll pass. See you."

On Britton's end, confusion crept in. Of all the reasons to bail, exams were the last thing that he would expect from Rylie.

As far as he could recall, she never even showed up for tests. The truth was, she was the one who wrote them.

Chapter 3 Invitation

Rylie moved on to the next voicemail, which turned out to be from Rory Carter, one of the most respected physicians at the Military General Hospital.

A note of flattery colored Rory's tone as he spoke.

"Rylie, I'm really in a bind. One of my old friend's sons has battled a rare illness for years, and his health is declining again. Those special pills you provided aren't helping him any longer. Is there any chance you could stop by and take a look?"

Pulling out her phone, Rylie dialed him back. "I'll come to the clinic after classes tomorrow evening. Tell him to swing by then."

Rory cut in with an apologetic sigh, saying, "He's stuck in the VIP wing at the hospital, and strict protocols mean he can't leave."

Drumming her fingers on the tabletop, Rylie pressed for details. "Enough stalling, Rory. Who's the patient?"

After a pause, Rory's voice dropped to a whisper, saying, "It's Brad Morgan. Yes, the grandson of General Sean Morgan. This isn't just any case -- the Morgans have discreetly reached out to top doctors nationwide. They're offering twenty million dollars to anyone who can cure him."

An arched eyebrow was all the reaction Rylie gave. The Morgan family was legendary, led by Sean Morgan, a formidable general. He was a man even the President deferred to.

The name Brad Morgan brought back memories -- she remembered reading about him in the news.

Only thirty and already hailed as the youngest admiral of his era, his string of military victories made headlines everywhere.

That revelation puzzled Rylie. Something could actually bring down a man like Brad?

Her next move was to check her encrypted contract inbox, and sure enough, there sat an official invitation from the National Healthcare Department.

Working under the codename "Healing Hand" on the dark web, she had built a reputation for tackling medical mysteries, and eventually gathered an elite team of her own.

It seemed natural that the government would come looking for her.

Keeping her composure, Rylie responded, "I see the message. That reward would tempt anyone. I'll take the case."

Meanwhile, word of the Morgan family's urgent call reached the Kirks as well. Leland sprang into action, already strategizing and dialing contacts in hopes of getting their foot in the door.

Always just out of reach of the upper society, the Kirk family saw this as their shot. Healing Brad would mean acceptance into the highest social circles at last.

Another rumor had set the city abuzz: the wealthiest family in Kouhron landed in Crolens, promising a mind-blowing sum to anyone who could lead them to their missing daughter.

People all across town had dropped everything, desperate for a piece of the reward.

...

The next day.

The shrill ring of her phone yanked Rylie from sleep. She stretched and dragged herself out of bed.

On the other end was Timothy Powell -- her research advisor -- barely masking his irritation.

"Rylie! I told you to handle the data organization, but you're nowhere in sight. Are you trying to get yourself kicked out of my research group? Stacey was here right at dawn. I expect you here immediately!"

She offered no answer, choosing instead to end the call and glance at the clock.

The digits read ten o'clock.

Her mind flashed back to the previous night. Lost in old medical texts, she'd worked long hours sorting through ancient prescriptions, and now she had overslept, letting Timothy's task slip her mind.

A yawn escaped as she flipped open her laptop, sent off a quick email, and hurried to get ready. Backpack in tow, she stepped out the door.

Her motorcycle zipped through city streets until she pulled up in front of the university lab. After finding a spot, she strode toward the entrance.

She pulled out her pass and swiped it, only to watch the screen blink and flash a denial -- her access had been revoked.

At that moment, the lab doors swung open and out came Stacey, flanked by two upperclassmen from the research team.

A mocking smile twisted one guy's lips as he spotted her dilemma.

"So, Rylie, you think you're special? Turning up late, ditching your work -- looks like you finally pushed Professor Powell too far. Lab access is locked, and your days here are over!"

Chapter 1 She's from the Asylum

[Welcome to Round 44 of Global Hide-and-Seek. Today's instance: Rose Manor.]

[Participants for this round are in position. Players, take note — once the game begins, you'll have thirty minutes to hide.]

[After thirty minutes, the Wraiths will enter the field and begin the hunt. Hunting window: three hours.]

[If caught, you die.]

[Your home nation will lose one region to a Wraith invasion.]

[Survivors will receive rewards.]

[Countdown begins now.]

Lyra Vance froze. She glanced down at herself — still in the same hospital gown, white with blue stripes, slippers on her feet.

Then she looked up at the crowd around her — every skin tone imaginable, jabbering in languages she couldn't understand, faces twisted with panic and despair.

When the strange voice finished, a door appeared out of nowhere on the open ground, and everyone surged through it.

What was going on? Lyra felt completely lost.

*****

Draconia. Strategic Game Command Center.

On the enormous screen, livestream feeds of every participant popped up at once. In the column marked 'Draconia,' a girl in a hospital gown stood at the instance entrance, glancing around, her hair a mess, a dazed look on her face.

The chat exploded.

WhenWillTheyDie: [We're done we're done we're done.]

DontHitMe: [Who did we draw this time?! Lyra — a little girl?]

DetailFreak: [Is she wearing... a hospital gown?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Draconia's down to twelve regions. Lose another and where the hell do we squeeze in?]

NutrientGooSucks: [Can we please get a swap? Game gods, I'm begging you.]

PickMeGame: [Forty-three rounds in, we've already lost twenty-two regions. Looks like number twenty-three drops today.]

momo: [I am so sick of you people. Whoever gets drawn is fighting for the country. You can't cheer for her, fine — don't go breaking her down. And girls have pulled it off before.]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Exactly. If these players hadn't won us living space, we'd still be holed up underground. No gratitude, get out.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Still, she's in a hospital gown. The debuffs are maxed out.]

LuckyKoi: [Heavens above, please send every drop of my luck to this player.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Hilarious. Aurelia drew a special-forces operative, already scouting the terrain. Ours is still spacing out. Thank God my emigration application went through. I'm out of here.]

GoDraconia: [Traitor. Get lost.]

Inside the command center, no one spoke. Everyone snapped into work mode. Chief of Staff Lana Sterling kept her eyes locked on the screen, the rattle of keyboards the only sound in her ears.

The keyboards stopped. "Reporting. Participant's name is Lyra Vance, female, twenty-two, from Everbright. Records show—" The officer broke off.

"What is it?" Lana frowned.

"Records show Lyra Vance was admitted to a psychiatric facility at age seven. She's never been discharged," a staffer reported.

Lana's frown deepened. "Seven? You're telling me she's been institutionalized for fifteen years? Never once left?"

"Correct, ma'am. After the nuclear war, her entire family died. No guardian ever came to sign her out," the staffer replied.

Lana ordered, "Pull every medical file she has."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

Lana watched the chat skew uglier and turned to another aide. "Steer the public mood upward. And monitor the networks, anyone running her down, ban the account."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

*****

Back on the livestream, the chat was getting nasty.

RunForIt: [Folks, time to write your wills.]

BornToCuss: [Write your own damn will, dickhead!]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Draconia's luck is finished. If you've got the means, find a way out.]

BornToCuss: [Finished your ass. Find your mother.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Aurelia's accepting refugees. Catch: vassal status.]

GoDraconia: [Shut your mouth up there. Traitor.]

BornToCuss: [Accept your ass.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [I'm not wrong though. Look at Aurelia — they drew a special-forces operative. Look at us? A mental patient? (Message failed to send.)]

LuckyKoi: [She moved. She moved.]

On the screen, Lyra finally took a step. She wasn't running, she walked slowly toward the door, trailing her hand along the wall as she went.

She drifted into Rose Manor that way. Once inside, she found shards of broken mirror scattered across the ground. She picked up a piece. The girl in the reflection had a thin face that made her eyes look enormous, with dark shadows beneath them.

That washed-out, blue-tinged pallor that came from years without sunlight.

She replayed that mechanical announcement in her head, twice over.

Hide-and-seek. Wraiths. Three hours. Death.

She drew in a deep breath. The air carried the scent of roses. Roses, trees, fountains, statues, the manor itself.

This was real.

Not the white walls, white lights, white ceilings of the ward. Not the scheduled pills or the orderlies' blank-faced check-ins. Not the restraints that had pinned her to the bed. No bite of disinfectant in the air.

The corner of Lyra's mouth twitched up. Then twitched again. Then she couldn't hold it back, she dropped into a crouch, wrapped her arms around her knees, curled herself into a ball, and her shoulders began to shake.

The chat assumed she was crying.

momo: [Yeah... honestly, who wouldn't be terrified?]

GoDraconia: [Don't cry, sweetheart. Find somewhere to hide. You might just make it through.]

NutrientGooSucks: [Poor girl. Only twenty-two.]

BornToCuss: [Anyone fighting for this country deserves respect! One more person talks shit and I'll show you what generations of trash-talk can really do.]

The next second, the girl curled on the ground tilted her head up. She was laughing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks from laughing so hard. She tipped backward and lay flat on the broken glass, the back of her hospital gown smudging with dust and grit. She didn't care. Her wild laughter rang out, loud enough to fill the empty manor.

The sound echoed across the open grounds, and other players' hearts jumped, they thought the Wraiths had arrived early.

The chat went dead silent.

Lyra lay on the ground, arms spread wide, staring up at blue sky and white clouds.

"I'm out," she murmured.

Then she shot upright, the laughter not quite wiped from her face, her eyes still red. "Ha. Wraiths or no Wraiths — who cares. I'm finally out."

Lyra pushed herself up, dusted off her backside, and shuffled deeper into the manor in her slippers.

Twenty-three minutes left on the countdown.

A few steps in, she stopped abruptly, tilted her head as if watching something — except there was nothing there. Only a wall.

She stared at the wall, thoughtful. "So you're already here."

Inside the command center, Lana stared at the screen, studying the young woman's reaction.

The countdown kept ticking.

[22:19]

The Wraiths weren't supposed to enter for another twenty-two minutes. So who exactly was she talking to?

Chapter 2 How Did She Know?

Lyra didn't look at the wall again. She turned and strolled deeper into Rose Manor, humming a tuneless little song.

Her fingers brushed the red roses along the path. She plucked one and tucked it behind her ear — easy, natural, like a girl wandering her own garden instead of a deadly Wraith zone.

The chat exploded all over again.

WhenWillTheyDie: [What is she even doing? Has she completely lost it?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Am I seeing this right? She's picking flowers to accessorize herself?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Yeah, she's full-on psychotic. I don't think she even understands what this game is.]

GoDraconia: [Everyone, start prepping now. Pack up essentials. If she really gets caught, head straight for the evacuation points the moment the game ends and the invasion zone is announced. Remember: we only get fifteen minutes.]

momo: [Got it. Twenty-two evacuations in, we know the drill.]

LuckyKoi: [I've got a strong feeling she's going to pass this game.]

Inside the command center, the main screen flickered. Lana's eyes were locked on the feed.

"Ma'am, pulling the player's records is harder than we thought." The technician's fingers flew across the keyboard, a thin sweat beading on his forehead. "Everything before age seven is blank. Her medical files after that were lost when the nuclear war damaged the databases."

"What about the last month or so?" Lana asked.

"That part's intact." The tech pulled up a page, his tone turning odd. "Her doctors noted that Lyra liked to mutter to herself in the corner of her room, and would sometimes crouch in the courtyard talking to the grass. They classified it as textbook psychiatric symptoms."

Lana's brows drew tight. Her knuckles tapped against the desk in a steady rhythm.

"Did she ever try to escape?" Lana asked.

The tech blinked, then flipped through the file. "Three times. But she only ever made it as far as the front gate before the orderlies brought her back."

"Why didn't she keep going?" Lana asked.

The tech answered, "Because she just stopped at the gate. Sat on the curb watching the sunset until the orderlies came for her. Never put up a fight. No one knows why."

Lana mulled it over for a beat, then waved at the assistant behind her. "Send a team to that psychiatric hospital right now. Seal every paper file and every byte of data they have. Interview the doctors. And if — I mean if — she lives through this round, bring her straight to the command center."

An assistant replied, "Yes, ma'am."

On the other side of the room, the think tank was already deep in argument.

"The data says she has zero survival skills. Her behavior says she lacks even basic caution."

"Based on her profile, I don't think she actually understands the game. I recommend opening the comm channel right now and briefing her before the Wraiths spawn."

"Absolutely not. Briefing her now eats up her hiding window, and we only get one comm window per round. We have to save it for the critical moment."

"And this isn't critical? If she doesn't even know she's in danger — if she mistakes a Wraith for a regular person and walks up to say hello — will your warning come in time then?"

"Every past round shows that warning our player when the Wraiths are closing in, and telling them to move, gives the best survival odds."

"This case is different!"

"Maybe we've all been underestimating her." A white-haired elderly woman cut in. "She's been locked in that psychiatric hospital for fifteen years. Rules, restraints, isolation, torture to most people. But to a patient like her, it may be the most familiar survival environment there is."

"You're saying she might find this place more comfortable than the real world?"

"Watch."

On the monitor, Lyra had already wandered into a European-style villa. Across the split-screen feeds, the other contestants' situations were on full display.

A contestant from a Southeast nation was crammed inside a kitchen cabinet, both hands clamped over his mouth, body shaking violently with terror.

A Western contestant was wedged under a sofa, eyes bloodshot, knuckles white around a steak knife. The slightest sound and he'd come out swinging.

Fear was the common thread.

Only Lyra was up on the third floor, ransacking a bedroom.

She kicked off the clunky old slippers and pulled a pair of black leather shoes from the closet. She slipped them on and tapped a foot against the floorboards. Too loud.

She frowned, peeled them off, and barefoot, dug out a pair of soft house shoes instead. She nodded to herself, satisfied, and headed for the balcony.

Lyra didn't hide in a closet, under a bed, or inside a car like the others. She walked to the edge of the balcony and picked out a chest-high planter. From the front, the blooming roses blocked her completely — and from this angle, she could see the entire main courtyard.

Viewers in the stream were stunned speechless.

momo: [Is that the third-floor balcony? In the open like that??]

WhenWillTheyDie: [She's basically begging to die. The Wraiths always sweep the main building first. She should be in a side wing or the basement.]

NeverAteVeggies: [What is going through this woman's head? Hide already. Under the bed. Or back in the closet where she found the shoes.]

BornToCuss: [Shut up. From the front, the roses cover her completely. The angle is solid. As long as the Wraiths don't come out onto the balcony, she stays invisible.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Wraiths skipping the main-building balcony — yeah, sure, I'll believe that one.]

BornToCuss: [Don't forget. We still have one comm window left. When the Wraiths reach the main building, we tell her to switch positions. Still a real chance.]

EmigrationComplete: [Ha, suckers, you actually banned my old account? I'm an Aurelian citizen now, you can't touch me.]

EmigrationComplete: [Move over to our Aurelia stream, people. John's a genius. He popped a car hood and crawled inside the engine bay. The Wraiths always focus on trunks and cabins, so he's locked in this round.]

BornToCuss: [Get lost, you traitor. Hope your father rots.]

Lyra had no idea about the war raging online. She stood behind the roses, staring through a gap in the petals, eyes fixed on that wall. Behind it was a chamber holding ten 'people' in dark red uniforms.

Their skin was an eerie ash-blue. No ears. No pupils. They gripped rust-eaten long-handled scythes, and every so often they slammed the weapons against the wall.

Lyra lowered her lashes, fingers unconsciously digging into the railing, leaving thin pale scratches in the paint.

"Ten of them. Identical attack range, identical damage. Five-second cooldown between strikes. They walk about as fast as a normal person. They can jump — about half again as high as a human."

"These so-called Wraiths feel kind of weak, actually. Not as formidable as Red back at the hospital. Hmm. Not sure yet. Let me keep watching."

"They're about five hundred meters out, straight line." Her voice was barely a whisper, but the game still caught it. "At their pace, a direct charge takes three minutes."

"A proper sweep would take at least an hour."

"Plenty of time for me to study them."

That nameless little smile tugged at her lips again. She plucked another rose and started slowly tearing off the petals.

In the command center, Lana listened to Lyra's quiet running commentary and turned to the think tank in disbelief.

"How does she know any of this?" Lana asked. "Could she have watched the live feeds back at the hospital? Could she have known about this already?"

No one had an answer. They could only wait for word from the team at the hospital.

"Ms. Reed, you may have been right. We've all been underestimating her," one of the think tank members said to the elder.

Lyra leaned against the railing behind the planter, no longer watching the wall. Instead, she scanned the main courtyard with idle curiosity.

The contestants from other countries were still scrambling like maniacs for blind spots.

"So slow," Lyra muttered.

Suddenly, the mechanical voice cracked across the sky above Rose Manor again, sharp enough to make ears ache.

[Countdown: 00:01]

[Thirty minutes have elapsed.]

[The Hunters are now entering the field.]

[Players — we wish you... a pleasant death.]

Chapter 3 The Hunters Enter

The instant the voice cut out, every contestant slowed their breathing. Outside the game, viewers all over the world held theirs.

The wall Lyra had been studying so closely shattered. Ten Wraiths stood revealed. They lifted their heads in perfect unison, exposing their pupil-less eyes, and surged forward.

Lyra stood on the third-floor balcony, watching through the gaps in the rose vines. She counted under her breath. "One. Two. Three."

The lead Wraith raised an arm, the long scythe pointing east.

To the east lay a rose garden and a flower hall, and two of the Wraiths peeled off in that direction.

The lead Wraith pointed west next — a mirror layout with another garden and hall — and two more split off that way.

Two more headed for the back fountain and wine cellar, two for the cluster of statues at the center of the courtyard. The last pair walked straight toward the main building Lyra was in.

"No carpet sweep. First round targets the main structures, ground floor first."

She glanced again at the two Wraiths in the courtyard. "They're going for any space that could hide a person. The second the weapon cooldown ends, they swing — blind or not."

"Aaah!" A contestant tucked inside the hollow belly of one of the statues let out a single scream and died on the spot.

"A blind hit still kills. So the weapon is the real key."

Lyra frowned at the scene. Apart from the creepy look and the scythes, these Wraiths weren't actually all that... wraithlike. So why call them Wraiths? Can't tell yet. Keep watching.

"See anything?" At the Draconia Strategic Game Command Center, Lana straightened and turned to the think tank.

"She's too calm. Too sharp. And almost..." one of them ventured uncertainly, "almost disappointed?"

Silence rolled through the room. From the moment she'd entered, to choosing her spot, to studying the Wraiths — the girl hadn't shown a flicker of fear.

Lana ordered, "Pull up screen three. Keep eyes on Lyra and on the two Wraiths inside the main building. The instant they head upstairs, contact her."

The main feed switched instantly.

Lana stared at Lyra's dedicated panel. The girl on screen still stood behind the planter.

On the livestream, the chat scrolled at peak speed.

EmigrationComplete: [See that? John already slowed his breathing to four per minute! THAT'S professional!]

BornToCuss: [Professional my ass. Quit shilling for them, traitor — go back to your own feed.]

LuckyKoi: [Lyra picked a great spot. Given the map and Wraith distribution, barring a random twitch from one of them, she's safe there for at least 30 minutes.]

NeverAteVeggies: [I don't see an ounce of tension in this girl. She's actually analyzing them like it's nothing. Maybe she really will surprise us.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Look at feed 18 — that Southeast Asian player just got spotted.]

On screen, a thin man tumbled out of the bushes in the east garden.

He let out a scream — alive, somehow — spun around, and bolted in the opposite direction.

The two Wraiths behind him lit up with excitement. One swung its long scythe.

The blade tore through the air with a short shriek. The hook caught his legs and slammed him face-first into the mud.

He clawed at the dirt, dragging himself forward, leaving ten deep furrows behind him.

The red-uniformed Wraith stepped up. The scythe rose. Fell.

The man's scream cut out.

The chat went briefly blank, then erupted in a tidal wave.

WhenWillTheyDie: [Dead... that's it? Just dead?]

DontHitMe: [Standard. So far, almost no one survives once they've been spotted.]

SawatdeeKa: [Aaaaaaah. Another loss. Our country was already down to its last five districts. Who knows which one will be invaded this time?]

Anu: [Sob sob sob Start packing, get to the evac points.]

Mehdar: [I don't want to run anymore. After this we'll only have four districts left. How much longer can we hold?]

AsIf: [Don't give up. Right now Ursaria has the most districts left, then Aurelia. I heard our country is already in talks with both about full-population emigration. As long as we're alive, there's hope.]

NorthernExile: [Right. My country's already gone. But the moment we lost our last district, the whole population emigrated out.]

GoDraconia: [Draconian viewers, stop watching over there. Look at Lyra. She's about to do something.]

Lyra had seen the whole thing, and her face lit up like she'd just discovered a new continent. She stepped forward and leaned against the railing.

Ha. So getting spotted by a Wraith doesn't kill you. Only being killed by one counts as elimination.

She stopped bothering to hide her body, leaning over the rail to look down. On either side, the Wraiths kept smashing things at random.

"So you don't use smell, or hearing, or any creepy power," Lyra murmured to herself. "Just luck and eyesight."

She fished a shard of broken mirror out of her pocket — the one she'd picked up on the way into the realm.

Tilting her wrist, she caught the sunlight and threw a bright spot down onto one of the Wraiths in the courtyard.

The dot landed square on the red uniform. The Wraith didn't react at all, just kept swinging its scythe blindly.

"Not sensitive to light either."

She tucked the mirror away, walked back through the third-floor bedroom, and headed down to a room on the second floor — left side.

It was a small dining room. In the middle sat a long wooden table covered with fruit, cake, and drinks.

Predictably, the chat exploded.

SoAnnoying: [What is she doing? What is she doing? Can she just hide quietly?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Why hasn't her country contacted her yet? Get on the line already.]

EmigrationSuccess: [Serves her right. You reap what you sow.]

BornToCuss: [Reap your ass.]

LuckyKoi: [Good news, she's not hunting the Wraiths. Bad news, she went down to the second floor. She's even closer to them now.]

Lyra dragged a chair out without a care, sat down, and started picking out her favorites.

Hehe, so good. Those rotten doctors and nurses hadn't given her real food in forever. She was going to eat plenty this time.

NeverAteVeggies: [AAAAHHH. How dare she? What if it's contaminated?]

NeverAteMeat: [What if... what if the food in these realms is actually fine to eat?]

NeverAteFruit: [So far no player has ever dared touch the food in a realm.]

LuckyKoi: [But she looks so happy eating it.]

Grrrr—

Grrrr—

Stomach growls broke out one after another. The players hiding in this room had been holding their breath, sure at first that a Wraith had come upstairs, but no crashing followed for a long stretch.

A contestant from the Southern Reach couldn't help herself. She peeked through a gap in the fireplace and saw a girl sitting at the long table, eating as if no one else existed — no fear, no panic at all.

She looked young. Long dark hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders, a few stray strands brushing her flawless cheek and making her face all the more delicate.

From the floor below came the sounds of destruction, of contestants dying horrible deaths — and up here, this girl was eating like she was at a Sunday brunch. This...

Chapter 1 Back Before The Apocalypse

With a shout, Nadia Hale opened her eyes and shot upright in bed.

Sweat rolled down her forehead, and her eyes were dazed and full of despair.

Her foggy mind went blank at the sight in front of her. She thought, 'Isn't this the apartment I lived in before the apocalypse?'

Her phone kept buzzing with incoming alerts.

She grabbed it from the nightstand and realized it was 9:32 a.m., September 14, 2029.

She had dozens of unread messages, all warnings about the super typhoon Cleaver expected to hit the coast in the early hours of the 17th, with winds of 100–120 mph and days of relentless rain.

Nadia went numb, thinking, 'I was dead... right? Dead in that hell of the apocalypse. Am I stuck in some nightmare just 'cause I didn't wanna die like that?'

Another alert popped up at 9:37 a.m.

She twisted her arm hard. Pain shot through her, reminding her this wasn't a dream.

She'd really been sent back just three days before the storm that kicked off the apocalypse.

More precisely, two and a half days left.

Nadia didn't feel happy. Only a bone-deep exhaustion crept in.

Typhoons, flash floods, scorching heat, freezing cold, earthquakes... every disaster was pure torture. She didn't think it was worth experiencing again.

But since she was already back, she couldn't bring herself to wait for her doomsday.

She splashed cold water on her face. In the mirror, she saw herself—young, pretty, skin glowing with fresh collagen, untouched by the harsh scraps of survival. Everything looked deceptively perfect.

Her tired gaze fell on the diamond necklace around her neck. She'd been abandoned in a hospital as a baby, and the necklace had been with her ever since, until Wesley Young grabbed it to give to the school's popular girl, Sylvia Moore.

Three years into the apocalypse, Sylvia had stayed flawless with pristine clothes and glowing skin, like she was still living in a peaceful world.

Nadia remembered one time she'd fainted from hunger, and she'd seen Sylvia pulling an ice cream bar from the necklace, licking it calmly.

Nadia seemed to make up her mind. She grabbed a blade, sliced her finger, and let a drop of blood fall onto the necklace.

The jade blazed with a dazzling light. When she opened her eyes again, she was inside an unfurnished apartment with no front door.

All utilities were hooked up, and there were two bedrooms, a living room, roughly 860 square feet, and ceilings around 10 feet high. A small 110-square-foot dirt garden clung to the balcony.

Floating above the living room was a holographic timer: 01:56:13.

'Is this the Storage Realm that kept Sylvia living so perfectly? Also the one she stole from me?' Nadia wondered.

After leaving the Storage Realm, Nadia noticed her mind now held a whole apartment inside. She could feel every corner just by focusing.

To figure out how the Storage Realm worked, she ran a little test with hot water. Everything inside stayed fresh, except the balcony and the garden.

When she stored something with her mind, the timer didn't move. But the second she stepped in, it started counting down automatically.

Time was tight. She didn't have the luxury to puzzle out all the rules.

'Since I get a second shot at life, and I've got this Storage Realm, I'm not letting myself flop again,' she thought.

In her previous life, Nadia had only lasted three years in the apocalypse. She had no clue what disasters were still coming, so she grabbed her phone and started googling natural disasters.

The results scrolled on and on, and she nearly passed out.

'Surviving is brutal,' she sighed inwardly.

Setting aside extra feelings, she grabbed paper and a pen and started making a supply list.

Nadia had grown up in an orphanage. On the surface, it looked peaceful, but behind the scenes, kids fought hard for scraps. That was how she learned to be self-serving and never get ripped off.

Always feeling insecure, she collected recyclables to sell for money in elementary school, worked part-time in middle school, and even tutored kids and cleaned bathrooms. She'd do anything for money.

She'd always done well in school. Even while studying pre-med in college, she kept five high school seniors on tutoring contracts, charging 60 dollars a session.

Nadia was obsessed with making money. She'd sell insurance, stream online, and try anything legal. Over more than a decade, she'd saved about 60,000 dollars, planning to put a down payment on a house after graduation.

Yet now, all that counted for nothing.

She had classes in the afternoon and tutoring at night, but none of that mattered anymore.

Nadia texted her students' parents, saying she was sick and wouldn't be able to tutor for a while. She asked them to find replacements and settle the fees.

Tutoring fees were usually paid every two weeks. Most parents weren't hurting for money, and two of them even sent an extra 200 dollars as a get-well-soon gift. She received 2,000 dollars in total.

She didn't forget to warn them that a massive typhoon was coming, so they should stock up on food and emergency meds.

Disasters kept piling up. Her medicine list alone filled three pages. Some items were not only expensive but also impossible to get at normal pharmacies.

She snapped pictures and sent them to her old buddy, Zachary Shaw, who worked in a pharmaceutical supplier. [Big-spender client needs this tonight. Can you get me a killer price?]

Zachary replied instantly: [No prob.]

Less than five minutes later, his call came through. "Nadia, this list is crazy. You sure you're not messing with me?"

"Money's in. The client only has one request. They want it delivered tonight," she said.

She had no time for chit-chat. She hung up and wired 15,000 dollars right away. She texted: [Settle the balance later.]

The list of supplies was massive. Nadia grabbed her keys and headed out. Her eyes caught the limited-edition new AJ sneakers sitting on the table. She felt like smashing her head against a wall.

She'd always been practical. But whenever she dealt with Wesley, it was like she'd been cursed.

To chase him, she'd moved out of the dorm, rented a pricey apartment near her school, and camped overnight at the store to snag those latest AJs for him.

Her own shoes never cost over 100 dollars, but she spent over 2,000 dollars on the limited edition pair for him without a second thought.

And what did she get? He accepted the gift, took her necklace away, didn't answer her confession, and took the school's queen bee to eat all her stored food on a typhoon day.

During three years of disasters, he never helped, and when demons attacked her, he just watched coldly.

'If I'd known, I wouldn't even have done those stupid things,' Nadia thought. 'I'd like to see without my stockpiles and the Storage Realm, how shiny and perfect he and Sylvia can really stay.'

The super typhoon raged for half a month, followed by three straight months of record rainfall. The whole city was flooded.

Nadia rented on the 18th floor. She didn't get wet, but life was still messy.

*****

She left her building and grabbed a full breakfast at a street café.

Then she hit the car rental and drove off in a box truck, heading straight to the AJ store. The staff was shocked at her return request. After all, this was the new limited edition. Selling them was never a problem.

She returned the shoes for over 2,000 dollars. That money could stock food for at least two years. Spending it on a man was totally a waste.

Next, she drove to a store for doors. She ordered the two thickest stainless steel doors, each with triple locks, guaranteed to stop even a sledgehammer. The total cost with installation was 2,000 dollars.

To save time, she measured everything before leaving.

The shop owner worried about accuracy, but as soon as Nadia gave the building and unit number, they agreed immediately. They'd done business with that complex before. They said they could install the door the day after tomorrow.

Across the street was a glass shop. Nadia picked the thickest shatterproof glass at $200 per square foot, also scheduled for installation the day after tomorrow.

Nadia thought, 'They can knock and smash however they want. This time, nobody is getting in with a knife to kill me.'

Chapter 2 Storing Up Supplies

After paying the deposit, Nadia headed straight to the city's biggest outdoor gear store.

The store was swamped with clearance items due to the competitive industry. Some stuff was going for a fraction of the price. It was a perfect time to grab a deal.

She filled her cart with everything that could save her life: two inflatable rafts, four rubber boats, first-aid kits for fire and earthquakes, tents, axes, climbing ropes, binoculars, radios, waterproof flashlights, and giant solar chargers.

She chose nothing cheap or flimsy, only the real deal with high quality.

The saleswoman noticed a serious buyer and tried to push jackets and sleeping bags. "All our gear is on sale today. Quality guaranteed."

Nadia raised her brows and asked, "Do you have stuff that can keep me warm below -80°F?"

The saleswoman replied in surprise, "In our city, you can wear a T-shirt in winter."

"I'm heading to the polar research station," Nadia said flatly.

Seeing she wasn't joking, the saleswoman quickly called a partner store and said, "We've got Arctic-grade parkas and mummy-style sleeping bags. Layer them together, and you'll stay alive. They're pricey and shipped from another state."

The partner ran an online store with good reviews and could overnight the order. The seller guaranteed they'd be delivered the next afternoon.

Nadia got two sets, spending over 2,000 dollars.

She spent another 4,000 dollars on additional outdoor gear, filling the truck. While nobody was looking, she stashed them all in the Storage Realm.

The rafts needed diesel, but private buyers couldn't get any.

Nadia went to a repair shop for a siphon and barrels, filled her truck at nearby gas stations, and carefully siphoned fuel into the barrels at a quiet spot. After a few trips, she had 130 gallons of gasoline.

The apocalypse was chaotic, full of blood and violence. She went to a security supplies store and told the owner, "I need some gear for the trip to Denirika."

The sho owner immediately pulled out the best gear he had. "The weather there is nice. You need something of the best quality."

Nadia grabbed three sets of stab-resistant outfits and two bulletproof vests. She then drove to the largest clothing wholesale market in the suburbs.

She stocked up on warm gear: down jackets, heavy coats, cashmere sweaters, thermals, scarves, gloves, socks, snow boots, light sneakers, insulated shoes, slippers, and anything that might be needed.

Brand didn't matter to her, only quality.

She spent 4,000 dollars at the market and then went next door to the general goods wholesale store.

She bought blankets, big down comforters—18 to 22 pounds each—three of each, all packed in compression bags.

She then grabbed shampoo, body wash, laundry detergent, sanitary products, paper towels, toothpaste, toothbrushes, thermoses, lighters, and rubber hot-water bottles.

She even bought 20,000 heat patches, a lifesaver in freezing weather.

Some online sellers offered rare finds: glass kerosene lamps and windproof lanterns, which were vintage-style gear from the 1960s.

She grabbed five of each and asked: [Do you have kerosene?]

Very few people would buy that, so the shop had only 25 gallons.

Nadia bought it all and asked for extra wicks. She knew these lamps would last way longer than candles.

She also bought alcohol stoves, solid fuel tablets, and portable propane camp stoves. Remembering that the Storage Realm had power, she grabbed several induction cooktops.

Bug spray, disinfectant, water purification tablets, mosquito repellent, and anything else she could think of went into the cart. By the time she was done, another 6,000 dollars was gone.

Next door was the fruit wholesale market. She bought apples, pears, watermelon, kiwi, bananas, cantaloupes, starfruit, grapes, and over twenty kinds in total. She spent another 2,000 dollars.

By the time she left the wholesale market, the sky had gone dark.

Her phone showed several missed calls, all from Zachary. He had also sent a message saying the order was ready.

Nadia drove to the building where his company was located. More than twenty large cardboard boxes were waiting downstairs, packed with antibiotics, anti-inflammatory meds, iodine, medical alcohol, gauze, and even tetanus shots.

They were all lifesaving supplies in a disaster. The order had cost over 13,000 dollars, but it eased some of the tight knot of anxiety in Nadia's chest.

Zachary transferred her a 600-dollar commission and said, "A lot of the meds on your list aren't in stock, so I have to pull favors from other suppliers."

"I'll deliver these first. Dinner is on me another day." Sitting behind the wheel, Nadia reminded him, "That super typhoon is about to hit. Stock up on fuel and food at home."

Zachary didn't take it seriously at all. They'd already had more than a dozen typhoons this year. Every time, the warnings sounded scary, but the storm barely did anything.

Nadia stored the medicine in the Storage Realm and then drove to the mall nearby. She ordered pizza and beer.

The restaurant was packed. Young students and couples were everywhere, their faces bright with life, completely unaware that disaster was coming.

The food would take a while. Nadia's gaze landed on the glowing red charcoal under the oven.

She suddenly remembered that she had forgotten the most important stuff.

She immediately asked the owner for contacts who sold charcoal, coal briquettes, and propane tanks.

She called them one by one, wanting everything delivered the next day.

To her disappointment, those shops were all in low-lying areas, and the authorities had ordered them to move their stock. They were too swamped to deliver anything for the next two days.

The three stores happened to be in the same area. Nadia didn't even wait for her food. She got in the truck and drove straight there.

Charcoal was cheap, but it took up space. Nadia checked the Storage Realm and only bought 500 pounds of smokeless, high-heat charcoal, with a charcoal stove and fire starters thrown in.

One propane tank could last about two months. In case the Storage Realm lost power, she bought ten tanks.

Coal briquettes burned for a long time, but with power shortages spreading across the country and trade sanctions with another country driving up coal prices, the cost had gone through the roof.

Each briquette cost about 1 dollar. Nadia bought 2,000 of them.

By the time she got back to her apartment, it was almost nine. She rested for a moment and entered the Storage Realm to organize the messy pile of supplies.

To save as much space as possible, she stacked the propane tanks, coal briquettes, and charcoal in the kitchen.

She stripped away every bit of unnecessary packaging, packed all bulky soft items into compression bags, and stacked everything layer by layer all the way up to the ceiling.

Money really burned fast. She had spent over 40,000 dollars in a single day, just enough to fill the small bedroom and the kitchen. The supplies took up around 1,700 cubic feet.

Just as she finished cleaning up, something suddenly kicked her. She went flying out of the Storage Realm and hit the floor.

Stunned, tried to go back in, but an invisible barrier blocked her.

She thought, 'What the hell? Did the Storage Realm swallow all my stuff?'

Chapter 3 Her Supplies Were Swallowed

Nadia panicked and quickly checked with her mind.

The Storage Realm was still there, and so were the supplies. She tried pulling something out with her mind, and a coal briquette appeared in her hand.

She scanned the space again and found that the holographic timer had hit zero.

Only then did Nadia understand. The Storage Realm only let a person stay inside for two hours.

She thought, 'Fine. Still better than nothing.'

By the time she finished showering, it was already past midnight.

She checked the Storage Realm again. A fresh two hours had been added, and she finally let out a small breath of relief.

Lying in bed, she couldn't fall asleep for a long time. In the end, she had to take melatonin to keep herself going.

Even then, she didn't have a sound sleep. She dreamed again of those people chasing her with knives, and rusty blades stained with old blood hacked down at her body.

Nadia jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat.

It was five in the morning, and the sky outside was still dark. She entered the Storage Realm and looked over her stockpile to steady her nerves. Only then did her breathing slowly calm.

She didn't try to sleep again. She grabbed her truck keys and drove to the city's largest wholesale produce market.

Dawn had just begun to break, but the market was already packed with trucks and vendors.

Nadia went straight to the vegetable section and bought the freshest produce, still beaded with dew.

She bought 100 pounds of pumpkin, carrots, beans, celery, tomatoes, and so on. For potatoes and sweet potatoes, she bought 200 pounds each.

She also bought 100 pounds each of garlic and chili. They could be planted, and they were good for seasoning. In freezing weather, a bowl of soup could be enough to pull someone back from the edge.

She bought as she walked forward. Except for greens, she didn't skimp on anything. In total, she spent around 1,300 dollars.

By the time she finished breakfast, it was nearly nine, and the crowd in the wholesale market had thinned out.

Nadia compared prices at several stalls before stocking up on staples. She got 100 bags of wheat, 50 bags of flour, and 200 pounds of beans, peanuts, and other dry goods. She also bought 50 jugs of olive oil.

She spent nearly 10,000 dollars. After some bargaining, the owner threw in three extra bags of flour.

Just this batch alone would be enough to feed her for a few years.

While the owner prepared the order, Nadia walked to the seasoning section nearby.

She bought ten large tubs each of mayonnaise, vinegar, and barbecue sauce. She then paid for 30 pounds of garlic powder, rosemary, cinnamon, and black pepper, 300 pounds of sugar, and 3,000 pounds of salt.

Food mattered in the apocalypse, but salt mattered even more. Without enough salt, the body simply couldn't hold up.

In the third year of the apocalypse, Nadia had personally seen someone trade one bag of salt for 30 pounds of grain.

3,000 pounds of salt barely took up any space. Once supplies became scarce, she could use them for trade. If space hadn't been a problem, she would've stocked up on several tons.

After the truck was loaded, she drove to a quiet corner with no cameras and stored everything in her Storage Realm. Then she headed for the frozen food section.

She bought ten large cases of frozen pizzas, waffles, mac and cheese, and similar easy meals.

Next, she went to the dry goods section and bought walnuts, almonds, dried cranberries, and more. Another 3,000 dollars was gone.

When she reached the meat section, Nadia noticed the stall that supplied the school cafeteria. The owner brightened the moment he saw her. "Nadia, what can I get you?"

Before the typhoon, the weather was hot and muggy, and the stall didn't have much meat left. At this hour, it wasn't exactly at peak freshness, but the prices were fair.

She ordered 200 pounds each of pork, ribs, beef, lamb, and rabbit, along with 100 chickens, 100 ducks, and 50 geese.

The owner stared at her, asking, "Girl, are you kidding me?"

His wife worked at a slaughterhouse, and Nadia had brought them plenty of customers for commission before. Nadia replied, "My relatives are throwing a big wedding. Can I get a good price?"

The owner smiled, "You're my VIP client. Come on, I won't make money off you on this one. 30% off everything."

Meat burned through money fast. Pork was cheap, while beef and lamb were still expensive. That was why buying through someone she knew was the smartest move.

The total came to about 10,000 dollars. Nadia didn't haggle, but she added one more request. She wanted two heavy bone cleavers and two butcher knives.

Self-defense weapons were a must, but she didn't have the time or the connections. She could only grab whatever she could get.

The owner looked startled. "What do you need those for?"

"Relax. I won't do anything illegal," Nadia smiled.

Thinking of the profit and their old connection, the owner agreed without making a fuss.

Next, she went to the fish stall and ordered 100 fish. She only asked them to gut and clean the fish, not cut them into pieces. She would come back for them once they were ready.

She then paid for 3,000 chicken eggs and 1,000 duck eggs. Thinking that the disasters might end one day, she also bought some fertilized chicken, duck, goose, and quail eggs, along with a small home egg incubator.

The garden inside the Storage Realm came to mind, so Nadia went to a seed shop and bought vegetable seeds, all fast-growing kinds like lettuce, spinach, and other greens.

Seeds were cheap. She spent 150 dollars, enough to keep herself fed for decades if she used them right.

The black soil garden was only about 100 square feet, but the two balconies could still be used. Nadia bought planters, a hoe, a shovel, and bags of potting soil.

With a faint hope for the future, she ran to the fruit sapling section. She bought three mature saplings of apple trees, grapevines, orange trees, and dozens of other varieties.

Meat would disappear over time. As the disasters dragged on, ordinary people wouldn't be able to eat fresh meat, and even powerful people wouldn't have the resources.

Nadia bought a breeding pair of rabbits. Rabbits could live on greens, reproduced fast, and could definitely cover her need for meat.

She liked snacks, so she bought boxes of her favorite snacks.

Money flowed out like water, and it hurt badly. But when she thought of the supplies piling up inside the Storage Realm, a deep sense of security and satisfaction rose in her chest.

Nadia spent the entire day at the wholesale market. By the time she walked out, the streets were bright with lights. People came and went in a lively rush, and the best part of the day had only just begun.

She went to a restaurant and treated herself to a big meal. Whatever she couldn't finish, she packed up and took it with her.

*****

It was still early when she got home. She organized the Storage Realm, filling the large bedroom until nothing else could fit. The greens and fruit saplings went in the living room, while the rabbits were placed on the balcony.

This time, she paid attention to the time. When only ten minutes were left on the timer, she left the Storage Realm.

The moment she came out, the two rabbits were kicked out too. They landed on the floor and nearly died from the fall.

At first, Nadia felt annoyed. Then joy rushed through her.

It seemed the Storage Realm didn't only have a time limit. Even though she wasn't inside, other living creatures couldn't stay inside either.

That meant no one else could take her treasure from her.

In a great mood, she sat down and went over her list again. She had bought almost everything she could think of, and there was about 6,000 dollars left in her account.

Only the living room and bathroom were still empty in the Storage Realm. If she wanted to survive extreme disasters, there was still a lot more to prepare. But she didn't plan to keep stocking up on bulky supplies.

She opened a food delivery app and picked restaurants with the best reviews. She ordered more than twenty dishes she'd always wanted to try but had never been willing to splurge on, ten portions of each.

Then she added fried chicken, coffee, ice cream, desserts, and dozens of other treats.

She spent over 3,000 dollars. To keep everything fresh and tasting right, she scheduled every order for pickup at specific times.

She was exhausted, but she still wanted to see the city's last stretch of brightness and noise.

That afternoon, the school sent out a notice. To prepare for the incoming super typhoon, classes would be suspended for three days. The exact return date would be announced later.

The students cheered. They called their friends and made plans to go out, turning the coming storm into an excuse for one last night of fun.

Coastal cities faced more than a dozen typhoons every year. Every time, students prayed for canceled classes, and this time, their wish had finally come true.

Nadia used to be the same. But none of them knew this storm was different. After this, they would never have to go to school again.

Eating pizza and drinking beer, Nadia carried a heavy, tangled feeling as she kept driving around to pick up her orders.

When she got home, she still felt like she had forgotten something important. But for the moment, she couldn't remember what it was.

Chapter 4 The Disaster Officially Began

As soon as midnight passed, the timer refreshed and showed 130 minutes remaining. That meant the time could stack.

Nadia was overjoyed. A minute or even a second could save her life at the critical moment.

She decided that unless there was a special reason, she wouldn't enter the Storage Realm again. She would save every minute for the extreme cold or the earthquakes.

With food in hand and the Storage Realm as her lifeline, Nadia finally felt a little more confident about the disaster coming her way.

She slept through the night without dreams. The next morning, a phone call woke her. The crew installing the door had arrived.

One of them asked, "Miss, you already have a stainless steel door. Why are you changing it?"

Nadia replied, "There have been break-ins around the complex lately. I want something solid."

The installer asked with a helpless smile, "The deadbolts are safe, sure, but we'll have to drill into the ceiling and the floor. Aren't you worried about damaging the apartment?"

"That's fine. Safety comes first," said Nadia.

Her landlord had taken a job out of town. In her previous life, even after the building collapsed in the earthquake, Nadia still hadn't heard a word from them. So remodeling the place wouldn't be an issue.

The crew for the shatterproof glass arrived right after, and both sides got busy. The sound of drills rang out from time to time.

Since it was the weekend and she was worried about bothering the neighbors, Nadia posted a quick message in the group chat and said sorry.

Then she opened the app and kept ordering food online. She wanted to spend the rest of her money.

In less than two hours, the door and glass were installed. Nadia paid the remaining balance she had set aside. Looking at the apartment now sealed up like a bunker, she finally felt a weight lift from her chest.

Just then, her phone rang. She thought it was from the food delivery guy, but it turned out to be Wesley.

"Nadia, it's my birthday party. When are you coming?" On the other end, Wesley's voice sounded warm and bright, mixed with the lively laughter of a crowd.

Nadia sneered, "Sure. Wait for me."

Wesley clearly liked Sylvia, yet he kept stringing Nadia along. All he wanted was her surprise gift and the necklace she had.

Even through the phone, Nadia could hear Sylvia's sweet voice in the background.

In Nadia's previous life, she had thrown herself at Wesley, and Wesley had barely paid her any attention. This time, he was the one calling.

Alarm bells went off in Nadia's head. She wondered, 'How did Sylvia know my necklace had the Storage Realm?

'Judging from Wesley's attitude, he probably doesn't know the secret. Sylvia must have pushed him into making the call.'

After hanging up, Nadia grabbed her keys and went downstairs.

Wesley lived on the eighth floor, and lively voices spilled out from his apartment.

Nadia walked straight past and continued downstairs without the slightest hesitation.

The air outside was still hot and heavy, but the first edge of the super typhoon had already arrived. Every now and then, a sharp howl of wind swept through the street.

A new alert said that the typhoon was now expected to arrive at 9 p.m. tonight.

Nadia was shocked, thinking, 'Why is it early?'

She went to the school library and picked out medical books so she could keep studying during the disaster, along with books on martial arts, survival skills, and mental resilience.

That huge library would be submerged during the flood. Countless valuable books would disappear forever.

Just thinking about it made Nadia's heart ache, but there was nothing she could do.

Avoiding the cameras, she placed the books she wanted together with a few others in one pile and then quietly slipped them into the Storage Realm.

She knew that stealing books was wrong, but soon, the library would be underwater, and countless books would be destroyed.

Books were part of human civilization. She couldn't take them all, but if the disasters ever ended, the ones she took could be donated back.

Wesley called again. Without a word, Nadia blocked him.

She left the school and went to a supermarket. She rode the elevator to the rooftop parking lot, walked around carefully, and came back down.

Faced with aisle after aisle of tempting products, she didn't buy anything. Instead, she wandered back and forth across the second floor a few times before driving somewhere else.

The rental company called. Because the typhoon had moved up, the office was closing early, and she had to return the truck before 3 p.m.

Nadia agreed on the phone. By the time she returned the truck, it was already 4 p.m. The typhoon winds kept screaming, rattling everything outside.

The owner was a decent guy. After checking the truck and finding no issues, he refunded her 600-dollar deposit.

The disasters didn't arrive all at once. They gave people a little warning and time to react. Too bad people failed to catch it.

Nadia kept some cash on her for emergencies and didn't keep spending recklessly.

*****

Back at the apartment, she grabbed her laptop, tablet, and phone, then started downloading everything she could think of: movies, music, life hacks, recipes, offline maps, disaster first aid guides, and survival manuals.

A shopping app suddenly popped up with a delivery update. Nadia then realized that she had forgotten the cold-weather gear she had ordered online.

It should've arrived yesterday evening, but the seller had shipped late, and the courier had been delayed. The package had only just reached the courier station.

She called right away. The courier station told her the typhoon had already arrived, so delivery was impossible for now. They could only deliver it after the storm passed. Or she had to pick it up herself before six.

Outside the window, the wind was already howling. The trees in the complex whipped back and forth like they were about to snap.

Once the typhoon and heavy rain hit, the courier station would be flooded. Without that gear, there was no way she could survive temperatures colder than 90 degrees below zero.

No one accepted her ride request. Nadia ran downstairs, unlocked a shared bike, and pedaled like mad toward the station.

It was only a little over a mile away, but riding straight into the wind made it almost impossible to open her eyes. Trash and flattened cardboard flew through the air around her.

By the time Nadia reached the station, she was drenched in sweat, her hair blown into a wild mess.

Because of the typhoon delays, packages were piled everywhere.

Nadia didn't even stop to catch her breath. She rolled up her sleeves and started digging through the stacks.

Luckily, her package was large. After more than ten minutes of searching, she finally found it.

The typhoon outside had grown even stronger. The sky was dark and heavy like night had already fallen.

Nadia clenched her teeth, picked up the big package, and headed out.

The moment she stepped through the door, a violent gust slammed into her. Her whole body was swept off her feet.

Just in time, a man loading packages beside a vehicle shot out his hand and grabbed her.

His stance was steady. With one strong pull, he dragged Nadia back from the wind.

Nadia thanked him, but her voice was swallowed by the storm.

The man glanced at her and said, "The typhoon's already here. Carrying a package out isn't safe."

Nadia hadn't expected the storm to turn this bad so fast. She had no choice but to retreat into the station, refreshing the ride-hailing app over and over while adding a bigger tip.

But there were more than 300 people ahead of her in line, and not a single driver was accepting rides.

The man had picked up a lot of packages and packed his Hummer almost full. Seeing Nadia's anxious face and the way she kept looking for a way out, he hesitated before asking, "Where are you going?"

Only then, under the station lights, did Nadia get a clear look at him. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans and looked to be in his early twenties. His hair was cropped short and clean. His jawline was sharp, looking cold.

He was tall, at least 6 feet, with long legs.

Nadia thanked him again. The man's expression stayed calm and distant as he replied, "No big deal."

She said, "I live at Crest Gardens. Could you give me a lift? I can pay you."

The man nodded and opened the door.

The back seat was packed full. Nadia opened the front passenger door and found a little girl sitting there.

She looked about five, with a timid face and a pink dress. Her round eyes looked up at Nadia.

The man said, "Daisy, let the lady hold you."

The apocalypse was already here. No one would care about traffic cameras anymore.

Nadia lifted Daisy onto her lap and tucked the package by her feet.

The wind screamed outside, but the Hummer drove steadily through it.

Under the dark sky, broken branches whipped through the air. Sheet metal roofing had been torn loose and clattered loudly in the storm.

Farther down the street, a girl in a dress clung tightly to a utility pole. From the shape of her mouth, she seemed to be screaming for help.

The disaster had officially begun.

Chapter 5 We're Not Close

The ride was only a little over a mile. In a few minutes, they reached the entrance of Nadia's apartment complex.

Nadia held out 500 dollars to him, thanking him for saving her and for taking the risk of driving in this weather.

The man's voice was cool and firm. "No need. I'm going the same way."

Since he refused to take it, Nadia didn't push. Before getting out, she reminded him, "The typhoon might knock out the water and power. Remember to stock up on food."

After speaking, she pushed open the door, hugged the package to her chest, and ran into the wind.

Big raindrops started pelting down. Nadia wiped her face in a mess and stepped out of the elevator, only to look up and see Wesley and Sylvia standing outside her apartment.

They must have been waiting for quite a while. Wesley's face was tight with impatience, while Sylvia still wore a sweet smile. Her white dress made her look pure.

"What took you so long?" Wesley snapped. "We've been waiting forever."

The sight of them dragged up every ugly memory from the apocalypse in Nadia's mind: the bullying, the humiliation, and the way they had watched coldly while demons tore her apart. Nadia's mood turned foul in an instant.

In her previous life, she had been stupid. She couldn't blame anyone else for that. But if they wanted to leech off her again in this life and steal her necklace, she wouldn't back down.

She thought bitterly, 'Everything I went through, they'll go through twice as hard.'

Her face stayed blank as she asked, "What do you want?"

Nadia had always been warm and eager around Wesley. Now that she had turned cold without warning, Wesley froze for a second before blurting out, "Why didn't you come to my birthday?"

"We're not close. Why would I go?" Nadia retorted.

"You..." Wesley's words choked in his throat.

He thought, 'What's wrong with her? She's clearly been chasing me. She even said long ago that she would give me a gift.'

Wesley didn't come for the gift. Sylvia was interested in Nadia and wanted to meet her.

Sylvia studied Nadia with a gentle smile. "Hey, Nadia, nice to see you."

Nadia's voice was icy. "I don't know you."

Sylvia looked a little embarrassed, but her voice stayed sweet. "Today is Wesley's birthday. We're all from the same school, so we thought we'd get together."

Wesley's birthday party had already happened at noon. Dragging Nadia to the eighth floor now was only about taking the necklace from her.

Nadia mocked. "Are you deaf? Told ya we're not close. What does his birthday have to do with me?"

Wesley hadn't expected Nadia to be so cold. His expression darkened as he snapped, "Nadia, what's your problem?"

"You and she are wearing matching couple rings, but you keep inviting me to your place again and again. Are you two-timing her?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm not into you at all." Wesley was furious, his embarrassment turning into anger. "Sylvia, let's go."

But Sylvia didn't want to leave. She insisted, "Nadia, here's the thing. We came over for Wesley's birthday, but now the typhoon has hit, and I can't get back. Could I stay at your place tonight?"

Nadia retorted, "Are you insane? I already said I don't know you."

Wesley's face went grim. "Nadia, watch your mouth."

"This is how I talk. Don't come bothering me if you can't handle it," Nadia shot back.

Wesley grabbed Sylvia and started to leave, but Sylvia refused to move. She clenched her teeth and kept her smile in place. "Hey, that necklace you're wearing is really pretty. Where did you get it?"

Nadia took off the necklace, asking, "You want it?"

Sylvia's eyes lit up. "Would you sell it to me? I really like it."

Nadia let go, and the necklace fell to the floor.

Then she lifted her foot and stomped on it hard. Within seconds, the necklace shattered into pieces.

After the Storage Realm bound itself to Nadia, the necklace lost its original shine and turned dull. It was useless now.

Nadia knew if she didn't destroy it right in front of Sylvia, Sylvia might do something to hurt her.

Nadia scoffed, "Your liking makes me sick."

Seeing the necklace destroyed, Sylvia froze in shock and cried out.

With his girlfriend being humiliated, Wesley flew into a rage and started throwing insults at Nadia.

A dangerous look flashed in Nadia's eyes. "Get lost. And don't show up in front of me again."

Wesley's face turned dark with anger. He grabbed Sylvia and stormed off.

Only then did Nadia unlock the door and step inside. She couldn't wait to tear open the package.

The cold-weather suit was thick, soft, and warm once she put it on. The mummy-style sleeping bag was sewn with several layers of down, and the quality was excellent. When the deep freeze came, these could keep her alive.

Outside, the wind screamed. The sky was dark and heavy.

After locking every door and window, Nadia took out large plastic storage barrels and filled them with water. Once they were full, she put several into the bathroom inside the Storage Realm.

Once the typhoon and heavy rain fully hit, the complex would soon lose water and power.

Outside, the storm roared like the world was splitting apart. Inside, Nadia kept busy in the kitchen, prepping ingredients.

She cooked plenty of each dish. She packed the finished dishes into the stainless steel food pans she had prepared in advance, then placed them into the Storage Realm.

Chapter 1 A Twist Of Fate

In a spacious, sunlit bedroom adorned with luxurious furnishings, Eliana Garcia stirred, her consciousness returning like a slow tide. She opened her eyes, blinking against the golden rays spilling through the curtains.

Then, like a shot, she bolted upright.

"Ow—damn it," she muttered, clutching her pounding head. It felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to her skull.

'Wait a second...' Her thoughts scrambled. 'What's going on? Wasn't I... dead?'

Her eyes darted around, taking in the cream-colored walls, the intricately carved furniture, and the sparkling crystal chandelier above. Her breath hitched. This was her old bedroom in the Garcia mansion—exactly as it had been seven years ago.

Her pulse quickened. 'No way. This can't be real.'

Just then, the door creaked open, and a maid, Nancy, stepped in, carrying a tray.

When she saw Eliana sitting up, her eyes widened, and the tray clattered onto the table. "Miss Garcia! Oh, thank goodness you're awake!" Nancy practically squealed, rushing over. Her voice wavered between relief and disbelief.

Eliana blinked, still dazed. Her hand instinctively reached up and brushed against the thick gauze wrapped around her head. And just like that, it all came flooding back, hitting her like a freight train.

She wasn't just alive—she'd somehow traveled back in time. Seven years back, to the very day Willow Garcia returned to the family.

Back then, she'd been living in a blissful bubble, completely unaware of the storm about to shatter her world. She'd grown up as the cherished daughter of the Garcia family, doted on by her parents, Andy and Victoria. But all of that had come crashing down after the car accident.

Her blood type hadn't matched. One test led to another, and the truth came out—she wasn't their biological daughter. She'd been swapped at birth, a mistake made at the hospital.

When she'd woken up, Willow—the real daughter—had already been found and welcomed home with open arms.

At the time, Eliana had seriously thought about stepping aside and giving up her place for Willow. It only seemed fair, right? But Willow, with her sugary-sweet smile and warm assurances, had talked her out of it.

"Nothing has to change," Willow had said, her soft voice dripping with sweetness. "We can be like real sisters—closer than blood. This is your home too, Eliana. You belong here."

Eliana had hesitated but ultimately agreed. After all, she had grown up in the Garcia family. She was attached to them, to this life, to everything she'd known. And she couldn't bear the thought of leaving, especially not her parents.

So, she stayed, convincing herself she could make it work, that Willow's promises were genuine. What she hadn't realized was that staying would be her biggest mistake.

From the day Willow returned, she started working her magic—subtly but steadily shoving Eliana out of the picture. At first, Eliana tried to make peace with it. She told herself, 'Willow's the real daughter. It's only right she gets her chance to belong here.'

But as the days dragged on, it became painfully obvious: Willow didn't just want a spot in the family. She wanted everything Eliana had—her relationships, her dreams, her whole life.

And weirdly, since Willow's return, Eliana's world had started falling apart. It wasn't just a streak of bad luck; it was like some invisible force was working against her.

Her closest friends? Gone. Her family? Suddenly cold. Even the boy she secretly liked? He drifted away, wrapped up in Willow's spell like the rest of them.

It was almost eerie. Willow seemed to know Eliana's every move before she made it. She'd swoop in first, flashing that perfect smile, and somehow, Eliana always ended up looking like the bad guy.

No one saw the strings Willow was pulling behind the scenes. To everyone else, she was an angel. And Eliana? Just the bitter, jealous impostor who couldn't handle being second best.

In the end, Eliana lost everything. She'd tried to fight back—God knows she tried—but Willow always stayed one step ahead, playing some twisted game Eliana didn't even know the rules to. And then, on the day she died, Willow dropped the ultimate bombshell.

Leaning in close, with that smug smile etched on her face, she whispered the truth, "I came back from the future to take everything you were supposed to have. You were going to be happy, successful, loved. I couldn't let that happen."

Eliana had been too stunned to even process it. 'Going back in time?' It sounded insane. Back then, she couldn't wrap her head around it.

But now? Now she understood it all too well.

Nancy approached the bed, her brows knitted in worry as Eliana sat there, lost in thought. She gently placed a hand on Eliana's forehead. "Miss Garcia? Are you feeling okay? Is this from the accident?"

Eliana blinked, snapping out of her daze. Her voice was steady as she asked, "Has Willow come downstairs yet?"

Nancy froze, her eyes widening. "Miss Garcia, how do you know about that already?"

Eliana's lips curled into a wry smile. 'How could I not?' In her past life, the day she woke up from that accident was the day Willow returned to the family.

The truth that followed had been devastating: she wasn't the Garcias' biological daughter; Willow was. Back then, she'd been naive enough to stay, thinking they could make it work. But staying had only led to heartbreak after heartbreak.

Not this time.

This time, she wasn't about to let history repeat itself. She'd take her fate into her own hands, starting with finding her real family.

With renewed determination, Eliana tossed off the covers and swung her legs out of bed, starting to gather her things.

Nancy froze, her eyes widening. "Miss Garcia, what are you doing?"

Eliana turned to her with a cool expression. "Stop calling me 'Miss Garcia.' I'm not part of this family anymore."

Nancy's jaw nearly hit the floor. "W-What...?"

Eliana paused mid-step, glancing around the room. The realization hit her like a cold slap—there wasn't much to pack. None of it was truly hers. She let out a slow, deliberate breath, as if exhaling all the ties that bound her to this house.

Without another word, she turned and walked out, her steps steady, her resolve unshakable.

Downstairs, Andy and Victoria were clinging to Willow like she was the greatest miracle of their lives, tears streaming as they spoke in choked voices.

"Oh, my poor sweet girl," Victoria sobbed, holding Willow tightly. "You've been through so much. I can't even imagine the pain you've endured all these years."

Andy nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "Willow, we'll do everything to make it up to you. You're finally home where you belong."

Eliana paused at the top of the stairs, watching the overly dramatic reunion with a calm detachment. It was like seeing a scene from a bad soap opera, but this time, she wasn't the one swept up in the script.

Her gaze shifted to Willow, sitting there in her too-perfect getup—washed-out jeans and a plain T-shirt, the classic "I'm so humble" look. Her red-rimmed eyes glistened as she blinked up at the Garcias, looking like the embodiment of pure, sweet innocence.

Then Willow glanced up and saw Eliana coming down the stairs. In an instant, she jumped to her feet, plastering on that fake, sugary smile Eliana knew all too well.

"Eliana," Willow greeted softly, her voice dripping with fake modesty. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

Eliana scoffed inwardly. 'Please. Cut the act. How had I never seen through your act before?' she thought, her blood simmering. That faux sweetness had fooled her once, but not this time.

She kept her face neutral, her expression unreadable, as she strode down the stairs without acknowledging Willow's greeting.

Victoria wiped her tears, trying to compose herself, and turned to Eliana. "Eliana, you're awake. Good. Come here, sweetheart, we have something to tell you."

Andy's voice grew serious, even somber, as he nodded. "Eliana, the truth is... you're not our biological daughter. Willow is. After your accident, we ran a DNA test and found out there was a mistake at the hospital. You were... switched at birth.

"Now that Willow's back, we've decided it's best for her to take your room. You'll be moving into the dorms since school starts soon."

They were so eager to get it out in the open, as if they couldn't wait to sweep everything under the rug. It was like her recovery didn't even matter. Their hearts had already shifted toward Willow—no hesitation, no second thoughts.

Before her time travel, Eliana had clung to the naïve hope that the Garcias still loved her. She'd convinced herself they only wanted to make things right with Willow. But she'd been blind—willfully so. This time, she wouldn't fall for the same trap.

Straightening her back, Eliana strode over and settled onto the couch. Meeting their gazes without flinching, she said evenly, "Mom, Dad, thank you for raising me for the past eighteen years. Now that your real daughter is home, it's only fair for me to move out. I'll pack my things and leave."

Willow's eyes went wide, her face twisting in confusion. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Eliana was supposed to throw a tantrum, cry, beg to stay—just like before. This? This was all wrong.

Andy and Victoria looked just as rattled. "Eliana, we didn't mean it like that," Andy said, his voice tight with urgency. "Willow's return doesn't mean we're asking you to leave."

Willow quickly moved to Eliana's side, grasping her hand with a gentle, pleading look in her eyes. "Exactly, Eliana! Don't be like this. We can live together, just like real sisters, can't we?

"You've been part of this family for so long. If you leave, people might think Mom and Dad pushed you out. How would they hold their heads up if rumors like that spread?"

Chapter 2 Find My Birth Parents

'What a conniving bitch Willow is,' Eliana thought, her stomach twisting at Willow's theatrics. Every word out of Willow's mouth was carefully calculated to drive a wedge between Eliana and the Garcias.

In her past life, she'd fallen for it—hook, line, and sinker. Out of guilt and gratitude, she'd stayed. But this time? Not a chance. Sure, she'd repay the Garcias for raising her, but she wasn't sticking around to play the fool again.

Eliana pulled her hand free from Willow's grasp with a calm, deliberate motion, subtly wiping it on her sleeve like she'd just touched something unpleasant.

Her voice was steady, almost casual, as she said, "Mom, Dad, I've been thinking. Now that your real daughter's back, it only makes sense for me to find my birth parents."

Andy and Victoria exchanged a look. Their expressions wavered, torn between affection for Eliana and guilt over the truth. They had raised her for so many years—she'd been a wonderful daughter, no doubt—but Willow? Willow was their flesh and blood, their real daughter, and she had endured so much hardship on her own.

That was why they'd agreed to let Willow take her rightful place in the family, moving into the house while Eliana transitioned to dorm life once school started.

So when Eliana said she wanted to search for her birth parents, it didn't seem unreasonable.

Eliana pressed on before they could respond, her tone cool but polite. "You both have done so much for me all these years. I'm forever grateful. Let me at least thank you properly." She bent forward into a bow, the gesture graceful and sincere.

"Hey, hey, no! That's too much!" Andy blurted, rushing to stop her. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her upright. "We'd never expect that from you, Eliana. You'll always be special to us. And if finding your birth parents is what you really want, well... we'll support you."

Victoria nodded, her smile a little strained. "Yes, dear. Whatever makes you happy. You'll always have a place here."

Meanwhile, Willow's smile faltered for just a second, panic flashing in her eyes. 'She's leaving? No way. If this brat really walks out, who am I supposed to destroy? How can I take revenge if she's not around?' she thought.

"Wait! Mom, Dad, we can't let her leave!" Willow's voice rang out, high-pitched and urgent. "I, uh, did some digging before I came back. Eliana's biological family? They're a mess!

"Her dad's a total gambler, her mom's... well, she's not exactly, you know, educated, and she's got a bit of a rough edge. People in their neighborhood say some pretty awful stuff about them. Oh, and she's got a brother—he's, uh, a thirty-year-old bachelor who still lives with his parents."

Willow turned her wide, innocent eyes toward the Garcias. "If Eliana goes to them, she'll be walking straight into a nightmare!"

Eliana froze, a wave of disbelief washing over her. She had no idea her birth parents were like that. But Willow—of course—seemed to know every detail, like she'd done a deep dive into her life.

The more Willow spoke, the more it was clear: she was trying to trap Eliana here, to keep her locked in this twisted game of manipulation.

But Eliana wasn't playing anymore. She had no interest in feeding into Willow's petty games. She just wanted to live her life, free from the drama.

"I don't mind," Eliana said, her tone calm and steady. "They're my family by blood, after all. It doesn't matter if they're poor or not. Unless..." She tilted her head, letting her gaze sharpen on Willow. "Unless that's why you came back. You found out Mom and Dad are loaded, and you couldn't wait to trade places?"

Willow's face blanched for a split second before she scrambled for composure. "N-no, of course not! I would never do that! Eliana, how could you even think that? Mom, Dad, you believe me, don't you?" She shot them a look that could've won her an Oscar for Most Innocent Daughter.

Victoria was quick to soothe her. "Oh, sweetheart, of course we believe you. Eliana's just upset and confused; she didn't mean anything by it."

"Yes, yes," Andy chimed in, throwing Eliana a warning look. "Eliana, don't jump to conclusions. Willow didn't even know about our finances when she came back."

Eliana fought the urge to roll her eyes. Only someone as gullible as Andy and Victoria would fall for Willow's wide-eyed act.

The truth was as clear as day to her: Willow knew exactly how wealthy the Garcias were. That's why she came barreling back into their lives without a second thought.

But it wasn't just about the money—no, it was about her. Willow wasn't just here to claim her place; she was here to ruin Eliana's life piece by piece. And Willow had the ultimate cheat code: she'd traveled back in time.

Eliana clenched her fists but forced her face to remain neutral. She wanted to scream the truth, to expose Willow for the vindictive, manipulative snake she was. But what good would that do? No one would believe her. They'd chalk it up to her recent accident and say she was "confused" or "delusional."

After a beat, Eliana exhaled slowly, regaining her composure. "Mom, Dad," she said, her tone calm but resolute, "this isn't about running away. It's about doing what's right.

"My birth parents deserve to know I exist, don't they? No matter what kind of people they are, I should at least meet them. And now that you have your real daughter back, it's only fair I look for my own roots."

Willow's face twitched, and she opened her mouth to argue, but Eliana's reasoning was airtight, that she couldn't find the words to stop her.

Andy and Victoria exchanged a glance, then nodded slowly. "Alright, Eliana," Andy said reluctantly. "If that's what you've decided, we'll respect it. But remember, you'll always be part of this family. Our door will always be open for you."

Eliana felt a pang in her chest. She could see the sincerity in their eyes, and for a brief moment, she almost reconsidered. But she knew better. It wouldn't be long before Willow had them fully convinced that she was the selfish, ungrateful imposter. Better to leave now while the memories were still sweet.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For everything. I'll never forget what you've done for me."

The decision made, Eliana wasted no time packing up what little she had. Andy and Victoria, wanting to help, used Willow's conveniently detailed information to track down her birth parents' address.

They offered to drive her all the way there, but Eliana declined. After some convincing, she agreed to let them drop her off at the train station instead.

Willow watched them leave, her stomach in knots. Something felt off—this wasn't how it was supposed to go. She had expected Eliana to hesitate, to waver, maybe even beg to stay. But this time, Eliana seemed... resolute, determined.

Willow clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the rising panic. But then a thought struck her, and her lips curved into a sly smile.

'Go ahead, leave,' she thought smugly. 'You've lived in comfort your whole life. Let's see how long you last in that dump of a household. You'll be back, crawling on your knees, begging to return. And when you do...'

She turned on her heel, her smirk widening. 'I'll be ready.'

*****

Eliana arrived at the train station, the driver handing her a ticket along with a note that had a phone number and an address on it. "Safe travels, Miss Garcia," the driver said with a polite nod.

"Thank you," Eliana replied, ticket in hand, and made her way inside.

Two hours later, Eliana stepped off the train in Dratora City. The unfamiliar hustle and bustle of the station hit her like a wave. She pulled out her phone, dialing the number on the note.

The line clicked, and a man's voice answered, "Hello?"

Eliana hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Hi, is this Tommy? I'm... the daughter of the Davis family. Could you come pick me up?"

There was silence on the other end, thick and uncomfortable. Just as she was about to repeat herself, the man spoke. "Stay there. I'll send a car for you."

Before she could even process what he'd said, the line went dead.

Eliana stared at her phone, baffled. 'Wait... how does he even know where I am?' she wondered.

Shrugging off the weirdness, Eliana decided to grab a bottle of water from a nearby convenience store to calm her nerves.

As she walked out of the store, she glanced up—and froze. Two sleek Rolls-Royces rolled up to the curb, their polished exteriors glistening under the afternoon sun.

A bodyguard in dark sunglasses stepped out of one of the cars, scanning the crowd with a professional air.

Eliana barely spared them a second glance, sipping her water as she walked by. 'No way those cars are for me,' she thought. Willow had made it clear that her birth family was poor—dirt poor, as she'd put it. The idea that they'd send luxury cars to pick her up hadn't even crossed her mind.

She was mid-sip when the bodyguard approached her, his gaze fixed on a tablet in his hand. He stopped right in front of her, looked up, and in one smooth motion, whipped off his sunglasses. His face broke into an unexpectedly bright smile.

"Miss Davis!" he exclaimed, voice brimming with excitement. "I'm here to pick you up!"

Eliana froze, nearly choking on her water. She blinked, eyes wide. "Wait... you're calling me what?"

Chapter 3 A Pleasant Surprise

"Miss, you made the call just now, didn't you?" the bodyguard asked, his tone polite but firm.

"Yeah, I did," Eliana replied, her gaze flicking to the gleaming Rolls-Royce idling nearby. She frowned, confusion clouding her face. "But... this doesn't seem right."

"Then it must be you," the bodyguard said with absolute certainty. "Please, get in the car."

Before Eliana could fully process what was happening, the man acted with military precision. In one swift move, he opened the car door and practically lifted her inside, his strength catching her completely off guard.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a second!" Eliana yelped as she found herself seated in the plush leather interior.

Her mind raced. 'Are bodyguards always this intense? Or—wait—am I being kidnapped? But who even uses a Rolls-Royce for kidnapping?'

She shot the man a sharp look. "What on earth is going on here?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he replied cryptically, settling into the driver's seat like they were on a casual Sunday drive.

The car glided through the city before heading into the countryside. Before long, they pulled up to an estate so massive it looked like something out of a movie. Eliana's jaw dropped as she stepped out of the car and stared up at the sprawling mansion.

"Right this way," the bodyguard said, gesturing toward the grand entrance.

The mansion's double doors swung open, revealing two perfectly aligned rows of maids standing at attention, their crisp uniforms and synchronized bows making Eliana feel like she'd stepped into a billionaire's fantasy.

She walked inside cautiously, her eyes darted around, taking in the absurdly lavish surroundings—the gilded walls, the antique furniture at every corner. The place was a far cry from what she'd imagined.

'Wait a minute... wasn't I told my birth family was broke?' she thought, her confusion deepening with every step. 'This place is the opposite of poor. Did I somehow end up in the wrong house?'

Just then, an elderly woman with silver hair hurried down the grand staircase. Dressed in an elegant white-and-gold tunic, she leaned lightly on a polished wooden cane, her eyes sparkling with excitement. This was Naomi Davis, Eliana's grandmother, and her graceful demeanor exuded both strength and warmth as she approached.

"Are you the girl who made the call?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion, tears glistening in her sharp, gray eyes.

Eliana blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... yes, that was me. But... a man answered. Can you please tell me what's going on?"

Before she could process the situation, a medical team appeared seemingly out of nowhere. They moved with swift efficiency, setting up equipment and taking a blood sample from her right then and there—without offering so much as a word of explanation.

Eliana froze, staring at them in disbelief, completely floored by the unexpected turn of events.

Naomi gently took Eliana's hand, leading her to an ornate couch near the foyer. Patting her hand with a grandmotherly tenderness, Naomi said, "Now, now, my dear, sit down and let's talk. Sweetheart, what's your name?"

"Eliana... Eliana Garcia," she replied.

"Eliana," Naomi repeated, as if savoring the name. She nodded, her expression softening. "Such a lovely name. And how, my dear, did you come to believe you're part of our family?"

Eliana hesitated, still trying to wrap her head around the situation. "Honestly, I'm not sure what's going on. But everything I was told about my birth family doesn't add up.

"Someone said my dad's a gambling addict, my mom's... uh, kind of a shrew, and my brother's a thirty-something bachelor still living at home. They painted a pretty bleak picture."

At that, Naomi burst into a fit of laughter, so genuine and hearty that it echoed through the grand hall. "A gambling addict, a shrew, and a bachelor?" she repeated between giggles, wiping tears of amusement from her eyes. "Oh, my dear, no one has ever described the Davis family like that before. That's definitely a first!"

Meanwhile, the medical team worked swiftly, and in no time, the results appeared on the screen—99.999% match.

The doctor, barely able to contain his excitement, announced, "Mrs. Davis! It's confirmed—she's your granddaughter!"

"What? Really?" Naomi shot up from the couch, clutching Eliana's hands with a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy. "Eliana, my dear, I've waited so long for this moment! I never thought I'd live to see the day you'd come home. Oh, thank the heavens!"

She squeezed Eliana's hands tighter, her voice trembling. "You're not a Garcia—you're a Davis! Your name is Eliana Davis!"

"Eliana... Davis?" Eliana repeated, her head spinning as the reality began to sink in. The sudden shift in identity felt surreal. "Wait a second... What's really going on here?"

Naomi gently patted her hand and offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll explain everything."

As Eliana sat down beside her, Naomi shared the story. "The day you were born, there was a terrible mistake at the hospital. You were accidentally swapped with another infant by a distracted nurse. By the time we discovered what happened, you were already gone.

"We tried everything—everything—to find you, but you had disappeared without a trace."

Her voice cracked as she continued, "The child we raised wasn't ours, and once we tracked down her biological family, we returned her immediately. But you... you remained a mystery. No matter how hard we searched, we couldn't find you."

Eliana listened in stunned silence, struggling to process what she was hearing.

"And because we're..." Naomi hesitated before choosing her words. "Let's just say, because of the family's wealth and status, we had countless frauds claiming to be you. People showed up hoping to cash in on a fortune, telling the most ridiculous lies.

"So, we spread a little misinformation. We made it known that the Davis family was... down on its luck. Penniless, with a gambling father and a shrew of a mother, just to scare off the fakes."

Naomi leaned in closer, voice lowering as if revealing a secret. "The truth is, sweetheart, we're not some poor family. The Davis family is immensely wealthy. All those 'facts' about your background? Lies. Just to keep the wrong people away."

Eliana's jaw nearly hit the floor. "So, you're telling me... my dad's not some gambling addict?" she asked, still trying to process.

"Goodness, no!" Naomi laughed, her eyes sparkling. "The Davis family is one of the most prominent in Dratora City!"

"And my mom's not some shrew?"

"Not in the slightest! Your mother is an artist, a true master of the opera!" Naomi said, practically glowing with pride.

"And my brother... he's not a bachelor?"

"Well..." Naomi chuckled, giving her a playful look. "Not entirely wrong. Your brother inherited your grandfather's oil fields and is now running a massive energy business. But yes, he's nearly thirty and still single. A shame, really—he's quite the catch!"

The more Eliana heard, the more her mind was blown. Everything she thought she knew had been turned upside down. But then a thought hit her. "So, who was the guy I talked to on the phone earlier?"

"Oh, that would've been your cousin, Thomas," Naomi said casually.

'Thomas... Tommy? So that was a fake name too!' Eliana thought, trying to wrap her head around it all.

Finding out her real family's wealth was an unexpected—and surprisingly welcome—turn of events.

Naomi clutched Eliana's hand tightly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Eliana, you must've been through so much all these years! Your parents will be home soon, and then we'll all finally be together!

"If only your grandfather were still here, he'd be over the moon. Honestly, I didn't think I'd live to see this day either, but the heavens have blessed me! My precious granddaughter!"

Naomi's voice trembled with raw emotion, and it tugged at something deep in Eliana's chest. Tears pricked her own eyes. Whether it was the pull of blood ties or the overwhelming tenderness of the moment, she couldn't hold them back. "Grandma... Are you really my grandma? I'm so happy to meet you!"

She couldn't believe how her life had flipped. In her past, she'd been trapped in endless battles with Willow, losing herself in the chaos and dying without ever meeting her real parents. She'd spent her whole life grasping at things that weren't hers to begin with, while ignoring what truly mattered.

But now? Now she had a second chance. The irony wasn't lost on her. If only she'd sought them out sooner instead of wasting her time on the wrong people.

Naomi pulled her into a tight hug, her frail arms surprisingly strong. The two of them cried together, their tears mingling with relief and years of longing.

Just then, the shriek of tires on gravel sliced through the air, breaking the tender moment. The front doors flew open, and a man and woman hurried into the living room.

Chapter 4 Family Reunion

"My daughter!" Sebastian, Eliana's father, dressed in a sharp suit, and Lucy, her mother, graceful in a flowing dress, rushed toward her, their faces a mix of joy and disbelief.

The second they saw Eliana seated next to Naomi, they practically flew over to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace.

Surrounded by the warm, familiar scent of her parents, Eliana glanced up at them. Before she even realized it, her arms were reaching out, pulling them into a hug.

They'd already gotten the DNA test results before heading home. Sebastian, smack in the middle of a critical meeting when the news hit, had dropped everything right then and there.

He didn't give a damn about the stunned looks on his team's faces as he bolted out the door—it could all wait.

Lucy, in the middle of a theater rehearsal, had thrown everything aside, running out with no regard for her lines, desperate to meet the daughter she'd longed for.

They'd waited far too long for this moment—eighteen agonizing years of searching, hoping, and wondering if their daughter would ever come back to them.

For Eliana, it was almost too much. After years of enduring the neglect and mistreatment of the Garcia family, this overwhelming warmth and love felt almost foreign.

Her chest tightened, and her tears fell freely as a lifetime of bottled-up pain came rushing out, washing over her like a tidal wave. For the first time in so long, she felt truly safe—truly seen.

Sebastian, usually a man of steel, couldn't hold back the lump in his throat. His voice cracked as he spoke, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Sweetheart, I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through. But you're home now. Mom and I are here. From this moment forward, you'll never have to suffer again."

Lucy, a picture of elegance now undone by her emotions, was sobbing uncontrollably as she clung to Eliana. "Oh, my baby! I've dreamed of this moment every single day. You're finally back... finally home!"

"Dad... Mom..." Eliana's voice wavered as she looked at them, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

Sebastian's hair, once a deep brown, was now shot through with streaks of silver. Lucy, still every bit as elegant as she'd always been, carried the faint shadow of weariness on her face—a quiet testament to the years of relentless searching for their daughter.

Those years had taken their toll, no doubt, but they'd never stopped clinging to hope. Not once.

Lucy reached out, gently cupping Eliana's face with trembling hands. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she whispered, "Hearing you call me 'Mom'... I can finally breathe easy now."

When Lucy had given birth to Eliana, she'd already been older, and the delivery had nearly cost her life. She'd always dreamed of a daughter to complete their family, a little sister for their firstborn son.

But fate had played a cruel hand. After all the anticipation, they had been shattered when they discovered their baby girl had been swapped at birth.

Lucy had even spiraled into postpartum depression, drowning in guilt and despair. If it hadn't been for the faint, flickering hope of finding Eliana one day, she might not have made it through those dark days.

As Eliana looked at them now, a profound warmth spread through her chest. How lucky she was to have this moment, to be given a second chance to know them, to love them. She'd missed this in her past life—lost in a web of lies and misplaced priorities. But now, she would hold on with everything she had.

Her thoughts strayed to the eighteen long years they must have waited. Every day, holding on to hope. Every day, aching for their little girl to come home. In her past life, they'd never gotten their wish.

But not this time. Determined to rewrite her fate, Eliana made a silent vow to herself: she wouldn't let this chance slip away. This time, she'd hold onto this family, this love, with everything she had. No more regrets, no more missed chances.

As Lucy gently brushed Eliana's hair aside, a faint but noticeable scar on her forehead caught her eye. Naomi gasped, her voice tight with alarm. "Eliana! How did you get that scar? Did someone hurt you?"

Sebastian and Lucy leaned in closer, their faces clouded with worry. The genuine concern in their eyes sent a wave of warmth through Eliana. She shook her head quickly, reassuring them. "No, no one hurt me. It's just from a car accident I had before coming here. Nothing serious, I promise."

"A car accident?" Lucy's expression turned sharp with maternal concern. "What happened? Are you sure you're okay? Tell us everything."

Sebastian didn't wait for an answer. He turned to a staff member nearby and barked, "Arrange a full medical checkup for Eliana. I want the best doctors—we're not taking any chances!"

Eliana squeezed both their hands, pulling them gently toward the sofa as she tried to calm them down. "Really, I'm fine. The accident was actually what led me here. During treatment, the doctors noticed my blood type didn't match my adoptive parents'. That's how I ended up finding out about you."

Lucy's worried frown softened, though her hand lingered protectively on Eliana's arm. "I see... And your adoptive parents—where are they from? They raised you all these years. We should send them a proper gift to thank them."

"They're the Garcia family from Avragow," Eliana said evenly. Her voice didn't waver, but the history behind her words was heavy.

Things had been messy with the Garcias even before her time travel, but like it or not, she couldn't deny they were the ones who'd raised her.

Despite the pain and misunderstandings, she had stayed with them out of gratitude.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "The Garcia family in Avragow?"

Lucy glanced at him. "Do you know them, Honey?"

"Garcia... the name does sound familiar." Sebastian furrowed his brows, thinking for a moment. "Ah, right. We're planning a new project in Avragow, and Garcia Group was one of the companies we initially ruled out. But since they raised you, how about this: I'll make sure they're included in the bid. Consider it a small gesture of thanks."

Avragow and Dratora City were leagues apart. Dratora City was the capital, a sprawling metropolis that pulsed with power and influence, while Avragow was, at best, a second-tier city.

The Davis family was a financial juggernaut in Dratora City, their name synonymous with wealth and prestige. The Garcia family, on the other hand, was just a moderately wealthy household in Avragow.

Calling them "prestigious" was a stretch; compared to the Davises, they were barely a blip on the radar—a family with a decent bank account but no real clout.

Eliana managed a faint smile. "Thanks, Dad. But... actually... never mind."

Lucy's eyes sharpened as she caught the hesitation in Eliana's voice. "Sweetheart, did something happen with them? Did they treat you poorly? Were you hurt?"

Eliana shook her head quickly. "No, it's nothing like that."

The truth was, before Willow came back into the picture, Eliana's adoptive parents had been decent to her. Not perfect, but good enough. Then Willow returned, and everything flipped.

Her adoptive parents started pulling away—at first subtly, then more obviously—until they were practically giving her the cold shoulder. In time, they sided completely with Willow, leaving Eliana out in the cold.

In her past life, she'd bent over backward trying to win their love, swallowing her pride again and again. But it was never enough.

Her worst memory of them was etched into her soul. On the day she was fighting for her life, battered and barely holding on, they didn't even bother to show up. That betrayal was a scar that cut too deep to heal.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to downplay it. "Mom, Dad, the Garcias were okay to me. But now that their real daughter's back, it's better if we don't interfere in their lives. Maybe just send them a thank-you gift? I think that's enough."

Lucy took her hand, her touch warm and reassuring. "Of course, sweetheart. If that's what you want, we'll respect it. Sebastian, let's arrange for a small gift to be sent over—no strings attached."

But Lucy's sharp intuition told her there was more to the story. She could sense Eliana was holding something back, probably memories too painful to share.

While she didn't press for details, her opinion of the Garcia family had already hit rock bottom.

Just then, the sound of a car pulling up outside broke the moment. Lucy's face lit up. "Eliana, your brother's home!"

Right on cue, the front door swung open, and Owen strode in.

Towering and self-assured, he carried himself with an easy confidence. His features were a perfect blend of Sebastian's sharp angles and Lucy's graceful beauty. Though pushing thirty, he had the youthful energy and charm of someone still in their prime.

"Owen!" Lucy called out, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Mom, Dad," he greeted with a warm nod before his sharp, discerning gaze landed on the petite girl on the couch. His expression softened instantly, a trace of curiosity and tenderness in his eyes. "So... this is my sister?"

Lucy's smile widened, practically bursting with pride. "Yes, this is Eliana! Go on, give your sister a hug!"

Owen grinned, a playful warmth in his expression as he stepped forward, opening his arms wide. "Eliana!"

Eliana stood and walked into his embrace, her voice catching as she said softly, "Owen."

Chapter 5 An Unexpected Surprise

Lucy had been just twenty-four when she had Owen, her firstborn. As her career soared, she always dreamed of having a daughter, and at thirty-five, Eliana was born.

Now, standing before her grown son and long-lost daughter, Lucy's heart felt full.

Owen, eleven years older than Eliana and already well into his successful career, gently ruffled her hair as he hugged her.

"Eliana," he said, his tone filled with affection, "I've been waiting for you for so many years. Finally, our family's whole again."

Eliana looked up at him, her smile lighting up her face. For the first time, she felt the warmth of a big brother's love, a connection she had longed for but never thought she'd have.

And just like that, Eliana was home. The Davis family, after years of searching and heartache, was finally complete.

*****

Half a month later, whispers spread like wildfire through Dratora City's high society. Everyone was talking about the Davis family's long-lost daughter, missing for eighteen years and now, out of nowhere, back in the fold.

But despite the chatter, the Davises were keeping things maddeningly low-key. No one—not even the nosiest socialites—had managed to catch a glimpse of her.

Speculation ran wild. Some said she probably didn't measure up to the Davis family's high standards, while others whispered that maybe she wasn't much to look at—why else would they delay a formal introduction? The gossip spread like wildfire, with everyone adding their own twist to the story.

As promised, Sebastian handed the lucrative Avragow project to the Garcia Group and sent over an extravagant gift package.

The Garcias eagerly accepted, taking it as a sign that the Davis family might be interested in building a powerful alliance. They had no clue it had anything to do with Eliana.

Kevin Wexley and I time-traveled together.

In my previous life, he personally went to the orphanage to bring me home and made me his wife. We lived a long, happy life together.

But this time, when his parents smiled and waved at me, just like they had in our previous life, teenage Kevin stopped them. "Mom, Dad, I don't want her anymore. I want this girl to be my sister."

Kevin reached out and took the hand of the girl standing beside me, the Thompson family's adopted daughter, the one who had died young in our previous life.

Kevin looked at me with icy hatred. "You stole Lillian's life and caused her death. This time, it's your turn to taste the hell she died in."

In that instant, I understood everything. So this time, he wanted to be the dragon-slaying hero who saved the princess.

"Do you want to come with me?" Victoria Thompson asked softly.

I looked at her, then at the back of the man I'd spent decades with as he walked away with Lillian.

I nodded.

Fine, this time, I wanted to live a different life, too.

*****

When I walked out of the orphanage, the Wexley family hadn't left yet.

As soon as Kevin Wexley saw me, he quickly shoved Lillian into the car and gave me a nasty look. "Penelope, even if you bowed and begged, I still wouldn't take you. The Wexley family doesn't want you.

"A thief like you belongs with the Thompson family; they'll eat you alive."

Kevin shoved me aside and slammed the car door shut.

I stumbled, barely staying on my feet.

The Wexley family's cars sped off.

The exhaust whipped up so much dust that I could barely see.

A black Maybach pulled up in front of me.

The window slid down, and Victoria Thompson's cold face appeared. "Still thinking about going with the Wexley family?" she said.

I shook my head. "I like the Thompson family."

Victoria hesitated for a moment, then shot me a casual glance. "What's your name?"

I answered softly, "Penelope."

"From now on, you're Penelope Thompson," she stated matter-of-factly. I knew exactly what she was getting at.

I hopped into the car and replied obediently, "Okay, Mom."

Victoria raised an eyebrow but said nothing, leaning back in her seat and resting with her eyes closed.

I kept quiet after that.

The car rolled up to the Thompson mansion.

I followed Victoria inside.

Victoria dropped her bag, looked up like it was no big deal, and called out, "Everest, meet your new sister, Penelope Thompson."

I was caught off guard and instinctively looked up.

Standing at the second-floor railing was a guy, even more good-looking than Kevin, with a face so flawless that it was almost unreal.

I had no clue how long he'd been up there, watching.

I was genuinely shocked. That was Everest Thompson? Seriously, how was he this ridiculously handsome?

In my previous life, soon after I joined the Wexley family, the Thompson family shipped Everest off overseas.

By the time I finally saw Everest again, it was years later.

Everest had already taken over the Thompson family, but his face was twisted and scarred. Thanks to his terrifying looks and ruthless style, the business world called him the Grim Reaper.

I gave him a sweet, hopeful smile and called out, "Glad to meet you, Everest."

Everest completely ignored me, just lounging on the railing upstairs, his face cold and distant.

Victoria just shrugged. "Just ignore him. He's never been much of a talker."

Victoria called over the maid to help me get settled, then headed out.

Just as I was about to step out with the maid, for some reason, I glanced back and locked eyes with Everest, his gaze as dead as night.

My heart skipped a beat. Before I could even manage a smile, he broke eye contact first and slipped back into his room.

Chapter 1 She's from the Asylum

[Welcome to Round 44 of Global Hide-and-Seek. Today's instance: Rose Manor.]

[Participants for this round are in position. Players, take note — once the game begins, you'll have thirty minutes to hide.]

[After thirty minutes, the Wraiths will enter the field and begin the hunt. Hunting window: three hours.]

[If caught, you die.]

[Your home nation will lose one region to a Wraith invasion.]

[Survivors will receive rewards.]

[Countdown begins now.]

Lyra Vance froze. She glanced down at herself — still in the same hospital gown, white with blue stripes, slippers on her feet.

Then she looked up at the crowd around her — every skin tone imaginable, jabbering in languages she couldn't understand, faces twisted with panic and despair.

When the strange voice finished, a door appeared out of nowhere on the open ground, and everyone surged through it.

What was going on? Lyra felt completely lost.

*****

Draconia. Strategic Game Command Center.

On the enormous screen, livestream feeds of every participant popped up at once. In the column marked 'Draconia,' a girl in a hospital gown stood at the instance entrance, glancing around, her hair a mess, a dazed look on her face.

The chat exploded.

WhenWillTheyDie: [We're done we're done we're done.]

DontHitMe: [Who did we draw this time?! Lyra — a little girl?]

DetailFreak: [Is she wearing... a hospital gown?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Draconia's down to twelve regions. Lose another and where the hell do we squeeze in?]

NutrientGooSucks: [Can we please get a swap? Game gods, I'm begging you.]

PickMeGame: [Forty-three rounds in, we've already lost twenty-two regions. Looks like number twenty-three drops today.]

momo: [I am so sick of you people. Whoever gets drawn is fighting for the country. You can't cheer for her, fine — don't go breaking her down. And girls have pulled it off before.]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Exactly. If these players hadn't won us living space, we'd still be holed up underground. No gratitude, get out.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Still, she's in a hospital gown. The debuffs are maxed out.]

LuckyKoi: [Heavens above, please send every drop of my luck to this player.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Hilarious. Aurelia drew a special-forces operative, already scouting the terrain. Ours is still spacing out. Thank God my emigration application went through. I'm out of here.]

GoDraconia: [Traitor. Get lost.]

Inside the command center, no one spoke. Everyone snapped into work mode. Chief of Staff Lana Sterling kept her eyes locked on the screen, the rattle of keyboards the only sound in her ears.

The keyboards stopped. "Reporting. Participant's name is Lyra Vance, female, twenty-two, from Everbright. Records show—" The officer broke off.

"What is it?" Lana frowned.

"Records show Lyra Vance was admitted to a psychiatric facility at age seven. She's never been discharged," a staffer reported.

Lana's frown deepened. "Seven? You're telling me she's been institutionalized for fifteen years? Never once left?"

"Correct, ma'am. After the nuclear war, her entire family died. No guardian ever came to sign her out," the staffer replied.

Lana ordered, "Pull every medical file she has."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

Lana watched the chat skew uglier and turned to another aide. "Steer the public mood upward. And monitor the networks, anyone running her down, ban the account."

An aide replied, "Yes, ma'am."

*****

Back on the livestream, the chat was getting nasty.

RunForIt: [Folks, time to write your wills.]

BornToCuss: [Write your own damn will, dickhead!]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Draconia's luck is finished. If you've got the means, find a way out.]

BornToCuss: [Finished your ass. Find your mother.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Aurelia's accepting refugees. Catch: vassal status.]

GoDraconia: [Shut your mouth up there. Traitor.]

BornToCuss: [Accept your ass.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [I'm not wrong though. Look at Aurelia — they drew a special-forces operative. Look at us? A mental patient? (Message failed to send.)]

LuckyKoi: [She moved. She moved.]

On the screen, Lyra finally took a step. She wasn't running, she walked slowly toward the door, trailing her hand along the wall as she went.

She drifted into Rose Manor that way. Once inside, she found shards of broken mirror scattered across the ground. She picked up a piece. The girl in the reflection had a thin face that made her eyes look enormous, with dark shadows beneath them.

That washed-out, blue-tinged pallor that came from years without sunlight.

She replayed that mechanical announcement in her head, twice over.

Hide-and-seek. Wraiths. Three hours. Death.

She drew in a deep breath. The air carried the scent of roses. Roses, trees, fountains, statues, the manor itself.

This was real.

Not the white walls, white lights, white ceilings of the ward. Not the scheduled pills or the orderlies' blank-faced check-ins. Not the restraints that had pinned her to the bed. No bite of disinfectant in the air.

The corner of Lyra's mouth twitched up. Then twitched again. Then she couldn't hold it back, she dropped into a crouch, wrapped her arms around her knees, curled herself into a ball, and her shoulders began to shake.

The chat assumed she was crying.

momo: [Yeah... honestly, who wouldn't be terrified?]

GoDraconia: [Don't cry, sweetheart. Find somewhere to hide. You might just make it through.]

NutrientGooSucks: [Poor girl. Only twenty-two.]

BornToCuss: [Anyone fighting for this country deserves respect! One more person talks shit and I'll show you what generations of trash-talk can really do.]

The next second, the girl curled on the ground tilted her head up. She was laughing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks from laughing so hard. She tipped backward and lay flat on the broken glass, the back of her hospital gown smudging with dust and grit. She didn't care. Her wild laughter rang out, loud enough to fill the empty manor.

The sound echoed across the open grounds, and other players' hearts jumped, they thought the Wraiths had arrived early.

The chat went dead silent.

Lyra lay on the ground, arms spread wide, staring up at blue sky and white clouds.

"I'm out," she murmured.

Then she shot upright, the laughter not quite wiped from her face, her eyes still red. "Ha. Wraiths or no Wraiths — who cares. I'm finally out."

Lyra pushed herself up, dusted off her backside, and shuffled deeper into the manor in her slippers.

Twenty-three minutes left on the countdown.

A few steps in, she stopped abruptly, tilted her head as if watching something — except there was nothing there. Only a wall.

She stared at the wall, thoughtful. "So you're already here."

Inside the command center, Lana stared at the screen, studying the young woman's reaction.

The countdown kept ticking.

[22:19]

The Wraiths weren't supposed to enter for another twenty-two minutes. So who exactly was she talking to?

Chapter 2 How Did She Know?

Lyra didn't look at the wall again. She turned and strolled deeper into Rose Manor, humming a tuneless little song.

Her fingers brushed the red roses along the path. She plucked one and tucked it behind her ear — easy, natural, like a girl wandering her own garden instead of a deadly Wraith zone.

The chat exploded all over again.

WhenWillTheyDie: [What is she even doing? Has she completely lost it?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Am I seeing this right? She's picking flowers to accessorize herself?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Yeah, she's full-on psychotic. I don't think she even understands what this game is.]

GoDraconia: [Everyone, start prepping now. Pack up essentials. If she really gets caught, head straight for the evacuation points the moment the game ends and the invasion zone is announced. Remember: we only get fifteen minutes.]

momo: [Got it. Twenty-two evacuations in, we know the drill.]

LuckyKoi: [I've got a strong feeling she's going to pass this game.]

Inside the command center, the main screen flickered. Lana's eyes were locked on the feed.

"Ma'am, pulling the player's records is harder than we thought." The technician's fingers flew across the keyboard, a thin sweat beading on his forehead. "Everything before age seven is blank. Her medical files after that were lost when the nuclear war damaged the databases."

"What about the last month or so?" Lana asked.

"That part's intact." The tech pulled up a page, his tone turning odd. "Her doctors noted that Lyra liked to mutter to herself in the corner of her room, and would sometimes crouch in the courtyard talking to the grass. They classified it as textbook psychiatric symptoms."

Lana's brows drew tight. Her knuckles tapped against the desk in a steady rhythm.

"Did she ever try to escape?" Lana asked.

The tech blinked, then flipped through the file. "Three times. But she only ever made it as far as the front gate before the orderlies brought her back."

"Why didn't she keep going?" Lana asked.

The tech answered, "Because she just stopped at the gate. Sat on the curb watching the sunset until the orderlies came for her. Never put up a fight. No one knows why."

Lana mulled it over for a beat, then waved at the assistant behind her. "Send a team to that psychiatric hospital right now. Seal every paper file and every byte of data they have. Interview the doctors. And if — I mean if — she lives through this round, bring her straight to the command center."

An assistant replied, "Yes, ma'am."

On the other side of the room, the think tank was already deep in argument.

"The data says she has zero survival skills. Her behavior says she lacks even basic caution."

"Based on her profile, I don't think she actually understands the game. I recommend opening the comm channel right now and briefing her before the Wraiths spawn."

"Absolutely not. Briefing her now eats up her hiding window, and we only get one comm window per round. We have to save it for the critical moment."

"And this isn't critical? If she doesn't even know she's in danger — if she mistakes a Wraith for a regular person and walks up to say hello — will your warning come in time then?"

"Every past round shows that warning our player when the Wraiths are closing in, and telling them to move, gives the best survival odds."

"This case is different!"

"Maybe we've all been underestimating her." A white-haired elderly woman cut in. "She's been locked in that psychiatric hospital for fifteen years. Rules, restraints, isolation, torture to most people. But to a patient like her, it may be the most familiar survival environment there is."

"You're saying she might find this place more comfortable than the real world?"

"Watch."

On the monitor, Lyra had already wandered into a European-style villa. Across the split-screen feeds, the other contestants' situations were on full display.

A contestant from a Southeast nation was crammed inside a kitchen cabinet, both hands clamped over his mouth, body shaking violently with terror.

A Western contestant was wedged under a sofa, eyes bloodshot, knuckles white around a steak knife. The slightest sound and he'd come out swinging.

Fear was the common thread.

Only Lyra was up on the third floor, ransacking a bedroom.

She kicked off the clunky old slippers and pulled a pair of black leather shoes from the closet. She slipped them on and tapped a foot against the floorboards. Too loud.

She frowned, peeled them off, and barefoot, dug out a pair of soft house shoes instead. She nodded to herself, satisfied, and headed for the balcony.

Lyra didn't hide in a closet, under a bed, or inside a car like the others. She walked to the edge of the balcony and picked out a chest-high planter. From the front, the blooming roses blocked her completely — and from this angle, she could see the entire main courtyard.

Viewers in the stream were stunned speechless.

momo: [Is that the third-floor balcony? In the open like that??]

WhenWillTheyDie: [She's basically begging to die. The Wraiths always sweep the main building first. She should be in a side wing or the basement.]

NeverAteVeggies: [What is going through this woman's head? Hide already. Under the bed. Or back in the closet where she found the shoes.]

BornToCuss: [Shut up. From the front, the roses cover her completely. The angle is solid. As long as the Wraiths don't come out onto the balcony, she stays invisible.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Wraiths skipping the main-building balcony — yeah, sure, I'll believe that one.]

BornToCuss: [Don't forget. We still have one comm window left. When the Wraiths reach the main building, we tell her to switch positions. Still a real chance.]

EmigrationComplete: [Ha, suckers, you actually banned my old account? I'm an Aurelian citizen now, you can't touch me.]

EmigrationComplete: [Move over to our Aurelia stream, people. John's a genius. He popped a car hood and crawled inside the engine bay. The Wraiths always focus on trunks and cabins, so he's locked in this round.]

BornToCuss: [Get lost, you traitor. Hope your father rots.]

Lyra had no idea about the war raging online. She stood behind the roses, staring through a gap in the petals, eyes fixed on that wall. Behind it was a chamber holding ten 'people' in dark red uniforms.

Their skin was an eerie ash-blue. No ears. No pupils. They gripped rust-eaten long-handled scythes, and every so often they slammed the weapons against the wall.

Lyra lowered her lashes, fingers unconsciously digging into the railing, leaving thin pale scratches in the paint.

"Ten of them. Identical attack range, identical damage. Five-second cooldown between strikes. They walk about as fast as a normal person. They can jump — about half again as high as a human."

"These so-called Wraiths feel kind of weak, actually. Not as formidable as Red back at the hospital. Hmm. Not sure yet. Let me keep watching."

"They're about five hundred meters out, straight line." Her voice was barely a whisper, but the game still caught it. "At their pace, a direct charge takes three minutes."

"A proper sweep would take at least an hour."

"Plenty of time for me to study them."

That nameless little smile tugged at her lips again. She plucked another rose and started slowly tearing off the petals.

In the command center, Lana listened to Lyra's quiet running commentary and turned to the think tank in disbelief.

"How does she know any of this?" Lana asked. "Could she have watched the live feeds back at the hospital? Could she have known about this already?"

No one had an answer. They could only wait for word from the team at the hospital.

"Ms. Reed, you may have been right. We've all been underestimating her," one of the think tank members said to the elder.

Lyra leaned against the railing behind the planter, no longer watching the wall. Instead, she scanned the main courtyard with idle curiosity.

The contestants from other countries were still scrambling like maniacs for blind spots.

"So slow," Lyra muttered.

Suddenly, the mechanical voice cracked across the sky above Rose Manor again, sharp enough to make ears ache.

[Countdown: 00:01]

[Thirty minutes have elapsed.]

[The Hunters are now entering the field.]

[Players — we wish you... a pleasant death.]

Chapter 3 The Hunters Enter

The instant the voice cut out, every contestant slowed their breathing. Outside the game, viewers all over the world held theirs.

The wall Lyra had been studying so closely shattered. Ten Wraiths stood revealed. They lifted their heads in perfect unison, exposing their pupil-less eyes, and surged forward.

Lyra stood on the third-floor balcony, watching through the gaps in the rose vines. She counted under her breath. "One. Two. Three."

The lead Wraith raised an arm, the long scythe pointing east.

To the east lay a rose garden and a flower hall, and two of the Wraiths peeled off in that direction.

The lead Wraith pointed west next — a mirror layout with another garden and hall — and two more split off that way.

Two more headed for the back fountain and wine cellar, two for the cluster of statues at the center of the courtyard. The last pair walked straight toward the main building Lyra was in.

"No carpet sweep. First round targets the main structures, ground floor first."

She glanced again at the two Wraiths in the courtyard. "They're going for any space that could hide a person. The second the weapon cooldown ends, they swing — blind or not."

"Aaah!" A contestant tucked inside the hollow belly of one of the statues let out a single scream and died on the spot.

"A blind hit still kills. So the weapon is the real key."

Lyra frowned at the scene. Apart from the creepy look and the scythes, these Wraiths weren't actually all that... wraithlike. So why call them Wraiths? Can't tell yet. Keep watching.

"See anything?" At the Draconia Strategic Game Command Center, Lana straightened and turned to the think tank.

"She's too calm. Too sharp. And almost..." one of them ventured uncertainly, "almost disappointed?"

Silence rolled through the room. From the moment she'd entered, to choosing her spot, to studying the Wraiths — the girl hadn't shown a flicker of fear.

Lana ordered, "Pull up screen three. Keep eyes on Lyra and on the two Wraiths inside the main building. The instant they head upstairs, contact her."

The main feed switched instantly.

Lana stared at Lyra's dedicated panel. The girl on screen still stood behind the planter.

On the livestream, the chat scrolled at peak speed.

EmigrationComplete: [See that? John already slowed his breathing to four per minute! THAT'S professional!]

BornToCuss: [Professional my ass. Quit shilling for them, traitor — go back to your own feed.]

LuckyKoi: [Lyra picked a great spot. Given the map and Wraith distribution, barring a random twitch from one of them, she's safe there for at least 30 minutes.]

NeverAteVeggies: [I don't see an ounce of tension in this girl. She's actually analyzing them like it's nothing. Maybe she really will surprise us.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Look at feed 18 — that Southeast Asian player just got spotted.]

On screen, a thin man tumbled out of the bushes in the east garden.

He let out a scream — alive, somehow — spun around, and bolted in the opposite direction.

The two Wraiths behind him lit up with excitement. One swung its long scythe.

The blade tore through the air with a short shriek. The hook caught his legs and slammed him face-first into the mud.

He clawed at the dirt, dragging himself forward, leaving ten deep furrows behind him.

The red-uniformed Wraith stepped up. The scythe rose. Fell.

The man's scream cut out.

The chat went briefly blank, then erupted in a tidal wave.

WhenWillTheyDie: [Dead... that's it? Just dead?]

DontHitMe: [Standard. So far, almost no one survives once they've been spotted.]

SawatdeeKa: [Aaaaaaah. Another loss. Our country was already down to its last five districts. Who knows which one will be invaded this time?]

Anu: [Sob sob sob Start packing, get to the evac points.]

Mehdar: [I don't want to run anymore. After this we'll only have four districts left. How much longer can we hold?]

AsIf: [Don't give up. Right now Ursaria has the most districts left, then Aurelia. I heard our country is already in talks with both about full-population emigration. As long as we're alive, there's hope.]

NorthernExile: [Right. My country's already gone. But the moment we lost our last district, the whole population emigrated out.]

GoDraconia: [Draconian viewers, stop watching over there. Look at Lyra. She's about to do something.]

Lyra had seen the whole thing, and her face lit up like she'd just discovered a new continent. She stepped forward and leaned against the railing.

Ha. So getting spotted by a Wraith doesn't kill you. Only being killed by one counts as elimination.

She stopped bothering to hide her body, leaning over the rail to look down. On either side, the Wraiths kept smashing things at random.

"So you don't use smell, or hearing, or any creepy power," Lyra murmured to herself. "Just luck and eyesight."

She fished a shard of broken mirror out of her pocket — the one she'd picked up on the way into the realm.

Tilting her wrist, she caught the sunlight and threw a bright spot down onto one of the Wraiths in the courtyard.

The dot landed square on the red uniform. The Wraith didn't react at all, just kept swinging its scythe blindly.

"Not sensitive to light either."

She tucked the mirror away, walked back through the third-floor bedroom, and headed down to a room on the second floor — left side.

It was a small dining room. In the middle sat a long wooden table covered with fruit, cake, and drinks.

Predictably, the chat exploded.

SoAnnoying: [What is she doing? What is she doing? Can she just hide quietly?]

AnotherDayAlive: [Why hasn't her country contacted her yet? Get on the line already.]

EmigrationSuccess: [Serves her right. You reap what you sow.]

BornToCuss: [Reap your ass.]

LuckyKoi: [Good news, she's not hunting the Wraiths. Bad news, she went down to the second floor. She's even closer to them now.]

Lyra dragged a chair out without a care, sat down, and started picking out her favorites.

Hehe, so good. Those rotten doctors and nurses hadn't given her real food in forever. She was going to eat plenty this time.

NeverAteVeggies: [AAAAHHH. How dare she? What if it's contaminated?]

NeverAteMeat: [What if... what if the food in these realms is actually fine to eat?]

NeverAteFruit: [So far no player has ever dared touch the food in a realm.]

LuckyKoi: [But she looks so happy eating it.]

Grrrr—

Grrrr—

Stomach growls broke out one after another. The players hiding in this room had been holding their breath, sure at first that a Wraith had come upstairs, but no crashing followed for a long stretch.

A contestant from the Southern Reach couldn't help herself. She peeked through a gap in the fireplace and saw a girl sitting at the long table, eating as if no one else existed — no fear, no panic at all.

She looked young. Long dark hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders, a few stray strands brushing her flawless cheek and making her face all the more delicate.

From the floor below came the sounds of destruction, of contestants dying horrible deaths — and up here, this girl was eating like she was at a Sunday brunch. This...

Chapter 4 The Game Has Comms?

Lyra was focused on the slice of cream cake on her plate.

The cream slid down her throat, sweet and rich, and she narrowed her eyes, savoring a taste she hadn't had in forever.

Back at the psychiatric hospital, maybe because Mom and Dad had stopped coming to see her, the doctors had switched all her food to nutrient fluid. Hmph!

The iron door of the fireplace shifted. A faint scrape carried through the quiet room.

Lyra didn't stop. She popped another piece of cake into her mouth.

"Hey..." the girl whispered from the fireplace.

The voice was tiny and trembling, squeezed out through the fireplace gap.

Lyra turned her head and met a pair of eyes wide with terror.

Crouched behind the fireplace was a foreign-looking girl, face streaked with soot, hair a tangled mess threaded with cobwebs.

"You're... a Draconian player?" the girl forced out in stilted Draconian.

Lyra nodded and gave a muffled hum around her mouthful. "Mm."

The girl blurted, "You can't eat that."

The girl panicked, her voice rising — then her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide as she strained to listen for sounds outside.

A heavy thud landed on wooden floorboards downstairs.

"The stuff in here... it's contaminated. You'll die if you eat it!" the girl whispered urgently, eyes desperate.

Lyra ignored her. She picked up a red apple, wiped it on the sleeve of her hospital gown, and bit into it.

Crunch. Clear and crisp.

Lyra said, "Sweet. Crunchy."

Lyra lifted the apple and waggled it toward the fireplace. "You want some?"

The girl stared at her like she was some kind of monster and shrank deeper into the fireplace.

The girl urged, "Are you insane? Get into hiding."

The girl said, "I'm a player from Southern Reach. My name is Lina."

Lina urged, "Our country and yours are allies. I swear I'm not lying. Hurry, get into the cabinet."

Lina was so frantic she was about to cry. Clearly she had never met a contestant with nerves this steady.

Lyra swallowed her bite of fruit, took another, and only then answered, slow and unbothered.

Lyra answered, "Hide in a cabinet? That's just gift-wrapping yourself. None of the cabinets are safe."

The words sent a shiver through Lina, and the color drained from her face.

Grrrowl. An ill-timed sound cut through the air. Lina's stomach was protesting, painfully audible in the quiet dining room. She lowered her head, mortified, and pressed a hand to her belly.

Lyra smiled, picked up an untouched apple from the table, and tossed it lightly. It arced through the air and rolled to a stop right in front of Lina's fireplace. "Go ahead. It's not poisoned."

Lina stared at the bright red fruit, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard.

She hadn't tasted real food in over a decade. Ever since the nuclear war, the world had been a scorched ruin. Food? That was a luxury. Just being alive, with one packet of nutrient goo a day, was a blessing.

Even as her mouth flooded with saliva, reason told her everything inside this instance was laced with malice.

"I... I can't eat it," Lina forced out, then pointed at a heavy mahogany cabinet in the corner. "Get over there, quick. I already checked. It has a hidden compartment."

Lyra glanced at the cabinet and shook her head. "They'd find you there too."

"And that fireplace of yours is staring straight at the door. One Wraith walks in, gives one swing, and you're dead, dead, dead." Lyra grinned as she said it.

"D-don't scare me." Lina stammered, trembling.

She was already teetering on the edge, and Lyra's words made a chill crawl up the back of her neck.

Lyra shrugged, set down her fork, strolled to the window, and pointed at the ledge outside. "You'd be better off out there than in there."

Lina's eyes went wide as she peered through the crack. This was the second floor. Outside there was no cover at all—just a stone ledge less than four inches wide.

"How are you supposed to hide outside a window? That's suicide!" Lina hissed.

Lyra didn't answer. The corner of her mouth curved up in a soft arc. She thought this Southern Reach girl was a little slow, but kind of fun. Her stomach was full anyway. Time to stretch her legs.

"Watch this."

Lyra hooked a finger around the latch and flicked it open.

The window swung open without a sound, letting in a cool breeze sweet with the scent of roses from the garden. She braced against the frame, light as a cat, planted her toes on the sill, and swung herself clear over the wall.

Lina held her breath, a scream almost tearing loose.

Lyra reached back and eased the window shut. She pressed flat against the gray-white exterior wall, toes balanced on that narrow ridge. From inside the room, anyone looking would only see an empty sill.

A few seconds later, the window slid open again and Lyra hopped lightly back into the room.

"Well?" She dusted off her hands, grinning. "Beats your fireplace, doesn't it? Want to come hide out there with me?"

Lina froze. Before she could answer, Lyra's expression suddenly shifted.

Lyra raised her right hand and touched her ear. A faint crackle of static hummed against her eardrum.

Lana said, "Lyra, can you hear me? This is the Draconia Strategic Game Command Center. I'm Lana Sterling, the director in charge."

Lyra tilted her head. "I hear you. How are you talking right next to my ear like that?"

At the command center, Lana stared at the giant screen, briefly thrown by the question. But this wasn't the moment to explain.

Lana said, "Listen. The three rooms on the first floor are nearly destroyed. The Wraiths from the courtyard, the parlor, and the back garden are all converging on the main building. In about three minutes, all ten of them will be on the second floor."

Lana continued, "The third floor and basement are still clear. On the first floor, the game room's southwest corner has a recessed safe spot. The second floor also has an exterior corridor. If you reach the third floor, you can evacuate through it."

Lana spoke at breakneck speed, the clatter of keyboards filling the background.

Lyra looked down at the half-eaten plate of cake and sighed.

Lyra said, "Evacuate? I haven't finished my snack yet."

"Lyra. They're almost there. For your own safety, for Draconia. Move, now." Lana pressed.

Lyra didn't budge. She simply cut the one-way comm, and the noise in her ear vanished.

She looked up at Lina.

Lina's eyes were vacant, her lips moving silently—clearly, Southern Reach's command center was on the line with her too.

A moment later, Lina cut the call and slumped back into the heap of ash.

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, carving two pale streaks down her grimy face.

"They said... the Wraiths are coming up. They said only three people on the first floor are still alive." Lina spoke to herself, her voice hollow with despair.

Lina said, "Southern Reach has only one region left. If I get caught, even that last patch of ground falls to the Wraiths. I'll have... no home to go back to."

Yes, Southern Reach had already worked out a full migration with Draconia. But it would always be living under someone else's roof. No premium nutrient goo could ever replace the smell of home soil.

Lyra walked over and crouched down in front of her.

Lyra said, "Two minutes before those red-coated freaks come up the stairs. You planning to sit here and die so the last scrap of your country turns to rubble? Or do you want to come out the window with me and catch some fresh air?"

Lina lifted her head, her heart pounding like thunder.

She didn't actually know if the fireplace was safe. But in the time she'd had, it was the safest spot she'd managed to find.

Outside the window? No player had ever tried that. The fireplace, on the other hand, had been tested again and again. And almost always ended in death.

She gritted her teeth and crawled out of the fireplace, smeared head to toe in black soot, looking thoroughly wrecked. "I'm coming with you."

Just then, Lyra's gaze dropped through the floorboards. She could see them clearly—the Wraiths were gathering in the main hall.

The eight that had been scattered through the gardens had come inside, and the original two were closing in from both ends of the long corridor.

Lyra said, "Hurry. They're here."

Lyra pulled the window open and slipped out first, the motion clean and effortless.

Lina followed close behind. Her legs were shaking, but she dragged herself up onto the sill anyway.

Copying Lyra, she pressed her back to the wall and gripped the edge with her toes for dear life.

"Give me your hand." Lyra reached out and locked her fingers around Lina's wrist.

Lina held on tight. Lyra's palm felt cool, but her grip was rock steady.

With her other hand, Lyra slowly drew the window shut.

The faint click of the latch was buried under the chaotic footsteps spilling through the hallway. The instant the window fully shut, the small dining room's door blasted open under the force of a massive blow.

Chapter 5 What's That Glowing Thing?

The wooden door slammed against the wall with a deafening crack. Three Wraiths stalked inside, their hooked scythes scraping along the floorboards with a sound that crawled up the spine.

"Whack."

"Bang."

"Thud."

"AAAAHHH."

Just as Lyra had predicted, the fireplace directly across from the door took the first hit. Along with the storage cabinets flanking it. A player hiding inside one was cleaved clean in half.

Lina dangled outside the window with her eyes squeezed shut, not daring to breathe. Her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her throat. Lyra, on the other hand, kept her eyes wide open, studying the Wraiths through the glass.

One Wraith hoisted its long-handled scythe again and brought it down on the dining table with brutal force.

"Crash."

The fine wooden table shattered in an instant. Cake, fruit, and wine sprayed everywhere; a shard of broken porcelain struck the window with a sharp clink.

Lina jerked in panic and nearly lost her grip. Lyra snapped her grip tight around Lina's wrist and yanked her back.

"Shh..." Lyra pressed a finger to her lips.

Behind the glass, the Wraith seemed to take a sick pleasure in the destruction. It swung its scythe wildly through the cramped dining room, and now and then another scream tore through the air.

The reek of blood thickened. More and more red splattered across the window. At this rate, the whole room would be reduced to rubble in minutes.

Luckily, the Wraiths focused on the places people could hide—cabinets, fireplace, under the table. No one would ever guess two girls were clinging to the sheer vertical wall outside, with almost nothing to grip.

Watching them, Lyra felt her theory confirmed again. Just as she'd thought. The Wraiths could smash through furniture, but they couldn't break through walls.

In the livestream, viewers from Draconia were holding their breath.

BornToCuss: [Holy crap... that kind of nerve? I'm calling her a goddess.]

LuckyKoi: [Look at Lina's face. White as a sheet. She's only holding on because Lyra's got her.]

EmigrationComplete: [This is suicide. All it takes is one Wraith opening that window and they're toast.]

BornToCuss: [Go die yourself, traitor. Get lost. Like we don't know what the price of emigration is.]

NeverAteVeggies: [This clown keeps begging to be roasted. Once you emigrate, go scream in your own stream, yeah?]

GoDraconia: [I just checked the records—good news. Across every match so far, no Wraith has ever opened a window.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Wait, so does that mean we've actually got a real shot this time?]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Exactly. As long as Lyra can hold out there for 2 hours, 31 minutes, 49 seconds.]

In the command center, Lana's fist tightened. Her eyes were locked on Lyra's calm face on the screen. This kind of extreme hiding strategy hadn't appeared in a single tactical simulation. But it was brilliant.

"R-report, Chief of Staff." A technician spoke up, his voice shaking. "According to the historical records, we can confirm, no Wraith has ever opened a window. Lyra... she's found a bug!"

The command center fell silent for one heartbeat. Then it erupted.

"This is amazing. If this method holds up, we may never lose another match again!"

"It's basically a confirmed safe zone."

"Document everything. This match matters. If she actually pulls it off, we might even reclaim the territories we've lost!"

"Yes, ma'am."

On screen, the ten Wraiths tore through the furniture like maniacs. Lina hung outside, feeling every shudder of impact ripple through her bones—each strike like a blow to her soul.

She couldn't feel her legs anymore. She just clung to Lyra's hand, mind a complete blank.

"Help me." Another player's cry rang out from inside the room.

Exposed in the Wraiths' line of sight, he scrambled and stumbled toward the very window Lyra was hanging outside of.

BornToCuss: [Get lost, you brat!]

AnotherDayAlive: [Get lost, you brat!]

DontHitMe: [Get lost, you brat.]

After my sister’s mate bond with Everest was confirmed, he broke off our engagement.

He removed the engagement ring, his guilt written plainly across his face. “Logan, Artemis is pregnant. If she terminates it, it might be her only chance at motherhood. She’s your sister; you wouldn’t want her to regret it for life, would you?”

I stood frozen, strange words swirling through my mind:

[Just agree to it, or you’ll end up mated to someone horrid!]

[They’ll make it a spectacle, forcing you to accept him. If you refuse, they’ll ensure you’re punished!]

[You’ll be trapped, while your dear sister mates into the Ross family, becoming the Beta’s mate!]

Terrified and unable to comprehend this bizarre vision, I hastily agreed.

He grabbed my hand, his voice desperate. “Don’t worry. Once the pup is born, I’ll come for you. I’ll look after you forever!”

The words persisted:

[Be his unpaid caretaker, you mean?]

[Wake up, Logan! Have you noticed Alpha Javier’s physique? Quite the sight, isn’t it?]

I was taken aback; wasn’t he Everest’s rival, the Alpha of the Silver Fang Pack?

“Since it’s settled, you’ll call Everest your brother-in-law from now on,” my father said, his tone firm.

My parents glanced at me, only exhaling in relief once I nodded.

As I ripped the Thanksgiving dinner invitation, I exhaled deeply, oddly relieved.

Everest was ecstatic, reaching out to embrace me.

I stepped back just in time. “Brother-in-law, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Lost in his euphoria, Everest didn’t notice my cold indifference. “Logan, I know this has been hard on you, but don’t worry. Once the pup is born, I’ll bring you back!”

“Even though I can’t mate with you, I’ll make sure you have everything you deserve, except the title.”

“Artemis agrees too. You both can shower little Denver with love, and we’ll all be so happy!”

The sarcastic tone of the words was louder than before:

[Breaking off the engagement but still wanting her as a mistress? How shameless!]

[Run, Logan, run! This family will devour you!]

I did want to leave.

But the Ross family held a long-standing prestige in the Blue Moon Pack, and Everest’s father, Alpha Ross, wielded considerable influence. Alone, I couldn’t possibly fight them and would end up under their control.

As I struggled with how to escape, more words flashed:

[The sleaze actually spread rumors that you were promiscuous, forcing Artemis to mate with him.]

[He even claims you’re involved with many wolves.]

Fear chilled my spine as I stormed towards the kitchen to confront Everest.

On my way, I was met with judgmental stares, and some even threw lettuce leaves at me.

I kicked open Everest’s door, demanding answers. “Did you start those rumors? Why would you do this?”

His eyes darted away, though he spoke with his usual calm. “What rumors? I’ve been really busy; don’t stir up trouble.”

I knew him too well. My suspicion was now a certainty. Why, even with everything going his way, wouldn’t he let me be?

He was willing to fabricate lies to protect Artemis, pushing me into the abyss, costing me my position as a Gamma in the pack.

Our more than twenty years of affection seemed so fragile.

I let out a bitter laugh. “I agreed to call off the engagement, but that doesn’t mean I’ll accept this slander!”

“You know how important reputation is to a she-wolf, yet for Artemis, you’d destroy mine!”

My words touched a nerve. Everest leapt from the sofa, roaring with anger:

“Enough! How can your small sacrifice compare to Artemis’ reputation?”

“She endured so much with that scoundrel; as her sister, can’t you show her some empathy? If it got out that she stole her sister’s mate, how could she live with herself?”

“Besides, you’ll eventually return to the Ross territory to care for little Denver; your reputation doesn’t matter.”

“If it weren’t for your mother’s scheming ways with my uncle, she and Auntie wouldn’t be in such a pitiful situation now; this is what you owe them!”

Back then, they had forced my mother to her death through their affair and plotting.

How had it become my mother’s fault?

Listening to him insult my mother, my eyes burned with fury. “My mother treated you well; you knew how she died. How could you insult her like this?”

When my mother took her life, Everest had shielded my eyes, telling me not to look.

I thought it was because he cared about me.

But now, he was calling my mother despicable and unscrupulous, labeling her as a she-wolf fighting for status.

I couldn’t understand how someone could change so much.

Even realizing he’d misspoken, Everest remained arrogant, asserting: “Is it really worth dredging up old grievances?”

“Spend this time learning to care for pups. Once we’re back from our honeymoon, Denver will be born.”

“Wait at home for me to send someone to fetch you.”

His words echoed in my mind as I turned and left, the weight of betrayal pressing heavily on my chest.

It was the seventh day of my hospital stay after surgery for a fractured tibia.

I was sitting in the rehab lounge, playing cards with a few other patients, staring blankly at the losing hand in front of me, when my phone buzzed.

""Where are you?""

""On a business trip,"" I said absently, rearranging my cards. ""I told you three times already.""

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then a voice, cold and sharp as a scalpel, came through the line.

""Harley Simpson. Look up.""

I froze.

Slowly, I raised my head.

Liam Hart stood in the doorway, his white coat thrown over his shirt as if he had come straight from the operating room.

His face was dark as a storm, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle in his cheek jumped.

He strode toward me.

""Why didn't you tell me you broke your leg? Why didn't you come to my hospital for surgery? And why the hell did you lie to me about being on a business trip?""

New York's top orthopedic surgeon was standing in front of me, yelling like a betrayed lover.

I couldn't help the bitter smile that pulled at my mouth.

""Dr. Hart is always so busy, after all.""

He had carved those words into me over the past two years.

""I'm swamped.""

""Don't bother me with trivial things.""

""Stop clinging to me so much.""

""It's a broken leg, not the end of the world,"" I said calmly.

""I handled it myself. No need to trouble you.""

The other patients scattered almost instantly, sensing the tension in the room.

A single playing card slipped from the table and fluttered to the linoleum floor.

Liam bent down, picked it up, and placed it on the edge of my wheelchair without a flicker of emotion.

""You're still angry with me.""

There it was again.

That familiar edge of impatience in his voice.

The one he used when he was tired of explaining himself.

When he had already decided I was being unreasonable.

""I didn't mean to stand you up that night,"" he said. ""How long are you going to hold this over my head?""

Seven days ago, it had been our second anniversary.

I had booked the Michelin-starred French restaurant we had been talking about for months.

We had barely sat down.

We had not even opened the wine list.

Then his phone rang.

Liam stood, grabbed his coat, and was already walking away before I could blink.

""Emergency patient,"" he said over his shoulder. ""I have to go.""

I sat there for twenty minutes under the waiter's pitying gaze before asking him to cancel the order and keep the deposit.

An hour later, I saw the trending post on X.

It was a photo of Chloe Reed at a red-carpet gala.

And in the background, half-hidden behind a velvet curtain, was a man's rolled-up dress shirt sleeve.

On his wrist was the watch I had chosen for Liam that morning.

The one with the engraving on the back.

I stared at that photo until my eyes burned.

Then I walked down the pedestrian overpass, missed a step, and fell all the way to the bottom.

From the ambulance to the operating room to the endless admission paperwork, I handled everything alone.

By the time I was finally settled in my hospital bed, it was almost eleven at night.

That was when Liam called.

""I'm home. Where are you?""

I leaned against the bed rail, staring at a chipped patch of paint on the metal.

""Did you go see Chloe today?""

He hesitated for half a second.

""Chloe's old back injury flared up at the event. I couldn't not go.""

I almost laughed.

It was always that.

""I couldn't not go.""

The last time, Chloe had claimed she saw a spider and threw out her back.

Liam had just finished a twelve-hour surgery, but he still drove across town to take her home.

The time before that, we had barely sat down for our movie date when Chloe texted that her back hurt from standing all day.

Liam left me alone in the theater with a bucket of cold popcorn and said he would make it up to me next time.

There was always a next time.

And somehow, it was never mine.

I closed my eyes and took a slow, trembling breath.

I said nothing.

When I didn't answer, Liam sighed, heavy with irritation.

""Fine. Stop being childish. I'll take a few days off and make it up to you, okay? Where are you? I'll come get you.""

I didn't need to see his face to picture it.

The frown.

The exhaustion.

The quiet resentment, as if loving me had become another demand on his schedule.

That was the expression he wore most of the time when he was with me.

I laughed softly, bitter and raw.

""I begged you for two weeks to take one day off for our anniversary. How long will I have to beg next time?""

His voice turned ice cold.

""Harley.""

I cut him off, my voice steady as stone.

""I have a last-minute business trip. You don't need to take time off. Don't call me again.""

And for the first time in two years, I hung up on him.

2:2

Now Liam stood in front of me, looking down with that same frustrated frown.

""If my old med school classmate hadn't seen you here by accident, were you planning to hide this from me forever?""

Before I could answer, his voice hardened.

""Harley, can you please just grow up and stop making everything so difficult?""

I flinched as if he had slapped me.

Because I remembered every single time he had said those words.

When nightmares kept me awake and I asked him to hold me, I was being difficult.

When I wanted him to bake me a cake for my birthday, I was asking for too much.

When I had a 103-degree fever and begged him to stay home with me, he told me he was an orthopedic surgeon, not my primary care doctor.

""Me being here won't change anything. Stop making trouble for me.""

So I learned.

I learned to take melatonin when I couldn't sleep.

I learned to book my own anniversary dinners.

I learned to go to the hospital alone when I was sick.

I even learned to schedule my own surgery and check myself into a hospital room without a single person there to hold my hand.

And still, somehow, I was difficult.

Last month, Chloe called him at two in the morning, crying that her stomach hurt.

Liam rubbed his eyes, pulled on his coat, and headed for the door without a second thought.

I stood in the entryway, blocking his path.

""You're an orthopedic surgeon,"" I said. ""What exactly are you going to do for a stomachache?""

""She's not like you, Harley.""

He was already reaching for his keys.

""She's in real pain, and she can't drive herself to the hospital. I have to take her.""

""Not like me?""

My voice went cold.

""So when I need you, I'm a hassle. When she needs you, it's an emergency?""

He looked at me the way he always did when he had already decided I was being unreasonable.

""Her parents had her late. She's always been sheltered. She doesn't know how to take care of herself.""

He sighed.

""Do we really have to fight about this right now?""

Before I could answer, his phone rang again.

Chloe's soft, trembling voice came through the speaker.

""Liam? Where are you? It hurts so bad.""

""I'm on my way.""

Then he pushed past me.

Hard enough that I stumbled back and hit the entryway bench.

Pain shot through my ankle, sharp and white-hot.

He did not notice.

Or maybe he did.

By then, I had stopped being able to tell the difference.

I pushed the memory away and looked up at him with a blank face.

""Lucky for you, I'm being discharged today. Would it be too much trouble to ask for a ride home?""

His lips pressed into a thin line.

For a second, he looked like he wanted to argue.

Then he shut his mouth and nodded once.

The ride home was silent.

Dead silent.

Halfway there, I shifted in the passenger seat, and my hand brushed against something sticky in the center console.

I pulled it out.

A tube of glittery pink lip gloss.

Not mine.

Liam glanced over.

His face tensed.

""That's from when I drove Chloe to her interview last week...""

I dropped the lip gloss back into the console with a soft clink.

""You can give it back to her later.""

He stared at me for two long seconds.

I turned my head toward the window and watched the city blur past.

I had nothing left to say.

When we pulled into the driveway of our brownstone, Liam turned off the engine but did not get out.

""Come to my hospital for your follow-up,"" he said. ""I'll review your X-rays myself.""

I opened the door and climbed out carefully on my good leg, then reached into the back seat for my crutches.

""No thanks. The hospital I was at is fine.""

His hand closed around my wrist.

Too tight.

His fingers dug into my skin, and his voice came out raw, frustrated in a way I had never heard before.

""I'll take the day off and go with you. Happy now?""

I blinked at him.

For a moment, I was genuinely confused.

""Why would you need to go with me?""

His jaw tightened.

""Isn't this what you wanted?""

He stared at me, eyes dark with anger and something that almost looked like panic.

""You've been moping for a week. Not talking to me. Acting like I killed your dog. I'm taking time off. I'm apologizing. I'm trying to make it up to you.""

His grip tightened.

""What more do you want?""

Something inside my chest gave way.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just a quiet, final break.

Two years of swallowed disappointment rose in my throat.

Two years of waiting.

Two years of making myself smaller so I would not be too much trouble.

Second place was exhausting.

I pulled my arm free so hard one of my crutches slipped against the pavement.

Then I took a breath.

And another.

""Liam,"" I said quietly, ""maybe we should...""

Break up.

The words were right there.

Sharp.

Clean.

Final.

Then his phone rang.

The sound cut through the air between us.

Liam looked at the screen.

His face changed at once.

""It's the hospital,"" he said.

""Emergency surgery. I have to go. We'll talk when I get back.""

He was already moving before he finished the sentence.

A second later, he was in the car.

The tires screeched as he pulled out of the driveway and disappeared around the corner.

I stood on the sidewalk, leaning on my crutches.

The sky was low and gray.

The first cold raindrop landed on my cheek.

I looked down at the red marks on my wrist where his fingers had been.

Then I turned and made my way up the steps to our empty house.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Alone.

The door closed behind me with a soft click.

And for the first time, I did not feel sad.

I did not feel angry.

I felt nothing.

3:3

Liam actually took the day off.

The next morning, I found him in the kitchen, stirring a pot of chicken noodle soup.

Morning light streamed through the window, catching along the edge of his dark hair as he moved.

For one stupid second, warmth stirred in my chest.

Small.

Unwanted.

Pathetic.

Then the doorbell rang.

Liam set down the spoon and went to answer it.

A moment later, Chloe walked in like she belonged there.

She slipped her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers waiting by the door.

Slippers I had never seen before.

""I heard Harley was hurt,"" she said, her voice soft with concern. ""I had to come see her.""

Before I could respond, she sniffed the air and brightened.

""That smells amazing. I haven't had your chicken noodle soup in forever, Liam.""

Then she tilted her head.

""Can I have a bowl?""

Liam nodded.

Without hesitation.

He ladled out three bowls and said, ""Go sit down.""

I stood there for a second, my hands tightening around the grips of my crutches.

Then I forced myself to move.

Slowly, I made my way to the table.

When I looked down at my bowl, my stomach turned.

Cilantro.

All over the top.

I hated cilantro.

Chloe laughed softly, twirling her spoon between her fingers.

""You still remember I love cilantro, Liam. You're the best.""

I pushed my chair back.

The scrape of wood against the floor sounded too loud.

""I'm not hungry,"" I said. ""You two eat.""

Liam glanced up at me.

For one brief second, I thought he might finally realize.

He said nothing.

He only reached for the lemon wedges and set them beside Chloe's bowl.

I turned and headed for the bathroom.

Halfway there, one crutch caught on the edge of the rug.

I went down hard.

The towel rack tore loose from the wall as I fell, metal clattering sharply against tile.

Pain burst through my knee.

Liam rushed in and pulled me upright.

His gaze dropped to the bright red scrape running down my leg.

Then he went still.

Not worried.

Suspicious.

""Harley,"" he said slowly, ""if you didn't want Chloe here, you could have just said so.""

I stared at him.

His mouth tightened.

""You didn't have to hurt yourself to get attention.""

The room went silent.

For a moment, I was not in our bathroom anymore.

I was back in the hospital waiting room six months ago, doubled over in a plastic chair at two in the morning, one hand pressed against my stomach as pain clawed through me.

I had driven myself to the ER.

Liam arrived ten minutes later, still in scrubs.

The second I saw him, I grabbed his hand, tears blurring my vision.

""It hurts so bad, Liam.""

He pulled his hand away.

His face was cold.

""Are you faking this?""

I had stared at him, not understanding.

""What?""

""Are you actually sick,"" he asked, ""or are you just trying to stop me from seeing Chloe?""

Then he sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, already tired of me.

""Even if you don't like her, she's my patient. Stop being so childish, Harley.""

He left before I could tell him the doctor suspected appendicitis.

I had emergency surgery that night.

Alone.

Lying under the operating lights, I felt a bone-deep exhaustion that had nothing to do with anesthesia.

That same exhaustion settled over me now.

Heavy.

Quiet.

Final.

I looked at Liam.

""I think we should break...""

The doorbell rang again.

Liam's expression changed, but I was already pulling away.

This time, I answered it myself.

Eve Carter stood on the porch, holding up a handheld gaming console with a grin.

""You said you'd teach me how to play this, remember?""

For the first time that morning, my shoulders loosened.

I forced a small smile.

""Yeah,"" I said. ""Come in.""

I led her down the hall to my bedroom and closed the door firmly behind me.

4:4

The next afternoon, Liam said he was taking me to my follow-up appointment.

I gave a distracted ""okay.""

The car ride was even quieter than the last one, the silence between us thick with everything neither of us wanted to say.

When he pulled into the parking lot of NewYork-Presbyterian, I frowned.

""You took a wrong turn.""

""No.""

He got out, grabbed my crutches from the back seat, and helped me carefully from the car.

""I want to look at your X-rays myself. Just to be sure.""

I followed him through the hospital corridors in silence.

He checked me in.

Filled out the paperwork.

Walked me all the way to radiology.

For a moment, it almost looked like effort.

Then I came out of the X-ray room and he was gone.

The nurse gave me an apologetic smile.

""Dr. Hart got an urgent phone call and had to leave. He said he'll be right back to pick you up.""

Of course.

While I had been inside, the sky had turned black.

Rain hammered against the windows, fat drops streaking down the glass.

I pulled out my phone and texted him.

[It's pouring. Don't bother coming. I'll take an Uber home.]

He did not reply.

By the time I got back to the brownstone, my hair was damp, my fingers were cold, and the cuffs of my jeans were soaked through.

I wiped the rain from my hand and pressed my thumb to the fingerprint scanner.

Click.

The door opened.

Chloe stood in the middle of the living room.

She was wearing Liam's oversized white dress shirt.

A towel was wrapped around her wet hair, and her cheeks were flushed pink from the shower.

Liam stood in front of her, holding a hairdryer.

They both turned to look at me.

My fingers tightened around my crutches until my knuckles went white.

For a few seconds, my mind went completely blank.

Liam's face drained of color.

He took one step toward me, panic flashing across his eyes.

""Harley, it's not what it looks like.""

I said nothing.

""Chloe was being chased by paparazzi. Her apartment was surrounded. I had nowhere else to take her.""

His voice came faster now.

""She got caught in the rain. She needed to shower and change. We didn't do anything. I swear.""

Chloe stepped out from behind him, looking small and frightened.

""Liam was just being nice, Harley,"" she said softly. ""Please don't misunderstand.""

Misunderstand.

The word landed somewhere hollow inside me.

I could feel myself shaking.

Not from the cold.

Not from the rain.

From the sheer, humiliating clarity of it all.

I turned toward the door.

Not gracefully.

Not quickly.

Just away.

Liam followed at once and grabbed my arm.

""Harley, wait!""

""Let go of me.""

My voice came out sharp enough to cut.

He froze.

I wrenched my arm free, nearly losing my balance as one crutch skidded against the floor.

""Enough, Liam.""

My breath shook.

I looked at him, really looked at him.

The man who had left me in a hospital.

The man who remembered Chloe's favorite soup topping but not mine.

The man who had brought her into our house, put his shirt on her body, and still expected me to be reasonable.

""Enough.""

The room went still.

Then I said it.

""We're breaking up.""

The words hung in the rain-soaked air between us.

Clean.

Final.

Liam stared at me as if he had not understood.

Then his expression tightened.

""You're not thinking clearly. Let's go inside and talk about this.""

Before I could stop him, he took the crutches from my hands and lifted me carefully into his arms.

""Put me down.""

He carried me back into the living room and set me on the couch.

""I'll send Chloe home right now,"" he said, voice strained.

""Just wait here. We need to talk.""

I did not have the energy to fight him.

Not anymore.

I sat there, numb, while their low voices murmured in the hallway.

A few minutes later, the front door opened.

Then closed.

The house went quiet again.

I pulled out my phone and called Eve.

She picked up on the second ring.

""You said you were looking for someone to take your guest room,"" I said. ""Is it still available?""

There was a pause.

Then her voice softened.

""Absolutely.""

I closed my eyes.

""And I know a great moving company,"" she added.

""They can be there in thirty minutes. Do you need them?""

For the first time all day, I almost smiled.

""Yes.""

Thirty minutes later, I climbed into the back of the moving truck.

As we pulled away, I watched the brownstone fade behind a curtain of rain.

For two years, I had tried to make that house feel like home.

But it never had.

Not really."

On the day Damon finally stood up again, Willa stood outside the private lounge at the club. She held a carefully prepared gift in her hands. Just as she was about to push the door open, she heard Damon and his friends talking inside.

The lounge door cast a dark shadow across her hands; her heartbeat pounded in the sudden silence, and the gift box felt cold and slick beneath her grip.

"Damon, your girlfriend Willa is truly incredible. When you were paralyzed from that skiing accident, if it weren't for her these past three years, how could you have recovered so well?"

"Yeah, she gave up her graduate program offer and stayed with you every day for physical therapy. She didn't even dare to sleep soundly at night, terrified you'd wake up in pain or have an emotional breakdown... What you owe her can't be repaid with a simple thank you."

"She is indeed a very good person," Damon's voice came through, low and gentle.

Willa's fingertips trembled slightly, a trace of warmth welling up in her heart.

The next second, she heard someone ask, "So when do you plan to marry her?"

Willa's hand hovered in mid-air. Her heartbeat involuntarily quickened.

The private lounge suddenly went terrifyingly quiet.

After a long time, Damon's voice sounded faintly. "I'm not ready to marry Willa yet."

"Not getting married?!" His friends' voices sharply rose. "She stayed by your side for three years, and that's not enough? Damon, don't tell me you're still thinking about Serena Vale? When you had your accident, she didn't even visit the ER. She just flew straight to Europe. Now that she sees you're better, she's back. It can be anyone, but it absolutely cannot be Serena."

Damon said nothing.

Standing outside the door, Willa felt as if her heart had been ruthlessly squeezed.

Silence itself was the best answer.

She thought three years of day-and-night companionship could earn his true heart, but it turned out that deep down, he only ever held onto Serena, the one who had abandoned him.

Since that was the case, she wouldn't keep clinging to his side anymore.

……

Three years ago, Damon was the most dazzling golden boy in the entire elite circle.

An Ivy League graduate, the sole heir to the Hale Group, skilled in everything from skiing to equestrianism. Even his face looked like a piece of art meticulously carved by God.

And Willa was just a poor student sponsored by the Hale Family Foundation.

The first time she saw him was at the foundation's scholarship dinner.

He stood on the stage, his features cold and clear, his posture straight, like an unreachable cedar tree.

She sat in the very last row, clutching her scholarship envelope, not even daring to clap too loudly.

At that time, the woman standing beside him was Serena Vale, an Upper East Side socialite with a matching family background and outstanding beauty.

Everyone said they were as perfect a match as a prince and princess in a fairy tale.

Until that skiing accident.

Damon's spine was severely damaged. The doctors said he might never walk independently again.

Serena didn't even enter his hospital room. She just sent a breakup text and flew to Europe.

The once universally admired Hale heir plummeted to the bottom overnight.

He became irritable, gloomy, and even tried to end his own life.

The Hales nearly broke down, completely helpless.

It was Willa who stepped forward.

She crouched in front of his wheelchair and said softly, "Damon, everything will be okay. I'll stay with you."