r/AllAboutNovels

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.

"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...

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?

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."

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!"

They say that the deepest cuts come from the ones you hold closest to your heart. But I never expected my husband to be the one holding the knife while another woman twisted it in deeper. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? 

 _______

“I'm sorry, ma’am, but I can’t find your boarding details,” the woman at the airport counter explained.

“What?” I asked, blinking as the attendant handed back my passport. “That can't be possible. My husband booked this flight—it’s our anniversary.”

The attendant peered at me sympathetically. “I’ve checked every possible spelling. There’s no Ariana Carter booked for any flight to Miami today or tomorrow.”

My voice trembled. “Are you sure? My husband even sent me the boarding pass last night. He said he’d meet me on the plane…” I fumbled through my phone, pulling up the ticket app. Flight 254 to Miami, two seats side-by-side—our first real vacation together in ages.

I’m Ariana Carter, and I've been married to Misha for three years. We’ve been passionate from the start, though lately he’s been distant—CEO duties at Carter Tech demand everything from him. I’ve put my career on hold to support him, to build a family, and now, three years later, we’re still in love…and still hoping for that miracle.

“Wait…” I frowned, scrolling. “Just give me a minute.” 

A man behind me groaned, waving his ticket. “Get outta line! We’re gonna miss the flight!”

Raising a hand to silence him, I quickly found the boarding pass and showed it to the attendant. “See? Flight 254, seat E3, first class.”

Her face softened, though her voice trembled. “I’m sorry, ma’am. That seat was transferred to Ms. Sanderson about two hours ago. She picked up her ticket earlier.”

I froze, zooming in on my phone. My reservation wasn’t in my name anymore.

“Ticket transferred to Mavis Sanderson,” I whispered, my chest tightening. “Mavis… my husband’s secretary.”

The news hits me like a brick to the chest. “She booked the flight for us. I’m sure her name was just put down by mistake.” 

Mavis Sanderson. 

She’s been working in Misha’s office for just over a year now, and she’s never made a mistake, not one. She’s one of the most organized people I’ve ever met. Without her, my husband might forget to take breaks or eat lunch.

But as I say this, a stormcloud of doubt gathers over my head, darkening my thoughts. I gazed up and the flight attendant gave me a sad, knowing look. Apologizing again, I moved away from the ticket counter and found a quiet place to call my husband. 

After three rings, Misha finally picked up.

“Ari,” he said quickly, breathless, as if he were walking. “This isn’t a good time. I’m in the middle of something important.”

The way he said it made my stomach sink.

“Misha, please,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’m at the airport. There’s a problem with my ticket.”

There was a pause. Just a fraction of a second too long.

“What kind of problem?” he asked.

“They say there’s no ticket under my name,” I explained. “The boarding pass you sent last night—it was transferred. It says the seat belongs to Mavis now.”

Silence.

And then, a soft, unmistakably feminine laughter rang out in the background. My fingers tightened around my phone. “Is someone with you?”

“Of course there is,” Misha replied impatiently. “I told you, I’m busy.”

My heart thudded painfully against my ribs. “Are you… are you already on the plane?”

“I’m at the gate,” he said. In the background, I heard the clink of glassware, and a woman’s voice asking if he wanted a drink. “Listen, Ari, there’s no time to sort this out right now.”

“Misha,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “It’s our anniversary. This is our anniversary trip.”

He exhaled sharply, like I was exhausting him. “I know. And I’m sorry. But things changed.”

“Changed how?” I asked. “This trip was supposed to be for us. You promised.”

“Mavis needed to come,” he said matter-of-factly. “She’s been working nonstop on the grant application. She deserves a break.”

The words landed slowly, one by one.

“So… you’re taking her,” I said. “Instead of me. Your wife?”

“Don’t twist this into something it’s not,” he replied. “Mavis will help you book a flight for tomorrow. Today, the two of us are leaving the office together. Don’t overthink it, okay? You’re being dramatic.”