r/AnyNovelRequest

The Ultimate Litter: A Beast World System Tale

Chapter 1 Transmigrated to the Beast World

At the entrance of the Greenwood General Hospital, Claire Harris stood on the sidewalk, her steps weak and unsteady. In her hand, she held a medical report, crumpled tight in her fist.

This was her seventh miscarriage.

She had been trying to get pregnant for ten years. She quit the job she loved, ran to the hospital every day, took medicine, had needle therapy, and went through seven rounds of IVF. Each time, she couldn't make it past two months.

When she thought about her husband's face, how he looked more and more annoyed with her, Claire felt completely hopeless.

Suddenly, a car came speeding straight at her.

Claire felt a sharp pain all over, even her numb heart twisted tight.

Maybe it's better to die like this.As she drifted in thought, she heard the faint sound of children shouting.

"Grandpa, please help our mom! She's so pitiful!"

"Yeah! If you help us, we'll come with you!"

Claire tried to open her eyes. Through a blur, she saw seven toddlers, about two or three years old, running toward her, giggling, grabbing her hands and feet, and tossing her up with all their little strength.

The strong feeling of falling made her mind clear a little. Moments later, she shot up from the ground and sat upright.

"Ugh!"

As soon as she sat, her whole body ached as if it were falling apart.

The asphalt road in front of her was gone. In front of her was a deep, endless canyon. Mist swirled in the air, and she could see the tops of tall trees rising far away.

Claire jumped in fright and shrank back.

Suddenly, a mechanical voice rang in her mind.

"System activated. Pomella Fertility System at your service!"

Claire asked, confused, "Who are you?"

"Master, I'm Pome! Even though I'm still a beginner and this is my first mission, I will help you have lots and lots of babies in the Beast World!"

Claire caught one part right away.

"Babies? Lots?"

Pome continued, "Yes! The body you're in now is also named Claire Harris. She is a female fox in the Beast World. Do you want to receive the original host's memories now?"

Only then did Claire realize that this body wasn't her old one at all.

Before she started trying to get pregnant, she had been slim. But after ten years of medicine and shots, her body had grown heavy. She had three thick rolls of fat on her stomach, full of needle marks. She didn't dare to diet or exercise, afraid it might hurt her chances of getting pregnant.

In the last few years, whenever her husband looked at her body, he showed no interest. Even during the days she carefully counted as her most fertile time, he rushed through it without care.

Now, Claire looked down at her thin waist, small enough to hold in one hand, and her long legs. Even though her chest and hips weren't very full, she was already very satisfied.

"I'll receive the memories now," Claire said.

As soon as she finished speaking, a flood of memory pieces rushed wildly into her mind.

She felt dizzy for half an hour. At last, she sorted everything out.

The original Claire was only sixteen years old, a young female in the fox clan of the Beast World. When she was born, her mother left her and her father. She ran away from the clan with other male mates.

In the Beast World, females were rare and precious. But she was still very young and had lost her mother. She had to rely only on her father, Tom Harris, to hunt for food. They were often hungry, and she became thin and weak. No male was willing to feed her.

Last winter, Tom went out to hunt and was bitten to death by a wild beast in Black Mountain.

After losing her only protector, Claire was often pushed aside by the other clan members. The one who led the bullying was a female named Fiona Miller.

Two days ago, Fiona framed Claire, saying she had stolen and eaten the Sacred Fruit. The chief of the fox clan was Fiona's mother, Hazel Miller. Without asking any questions, she locked Claire in a cold, damp punishment cave.

Every day, Fiona came to beat her. Claire couldn't stand it anymore. She secretly ran away from the clan. But by accident, she slipped and rolled off a cliff.

"The original Claire was so pitiful," Claire whispered.

She couldn't help thinking about the children she had faintly seen after the car accident.

Could they be the seven children she had lost? Was it they who gave her a second life?

Claire didn't know if she should feel comforted or guilty. After a long time, she finally came back to her senses.

"Pome, right? So you're saying this body can get pregnant now?" she asked.

"Yes! You definitely can!"

After hearing Pome's firm answer, Claire suddenly felt happy inside.

Maybe those seven children could be born to her again.

"Fine! Then I'll have a hundred babies!"

Claire made up her mind.

A cold mountain wind blew past her, and she shivered.

The clouds and mist slowly cleared. In front of her was a bottomless cliff. It was so deep that it made her heart pound.

Only then did Claire clearly see where she was. She took a sharp breath.

She was sitting on a small piece of rock sticking out from the cliff. It was less than 20 square feet wide, hanging alone over the edge.

Good thing she hadn't moved around.

It seemed the original Claire had fallen onto this rock and died there.

Claire checked her body. She was covered in old and new wounds. Her leg was probably broken from the fall. It hurt sharply whenever she tried to move.

She couldn't move at all.

How am I supposed to get out of here?

"Pome, what should I do now? Do you have any medicine or something?"

Claire carefully lay back down on the rock and slowly shifted toward the inner side, trying to stay as far from the cliff edge as possible.

"Master, you only get rewards after you have babies!" Pome replied.

Claire felt a headache coming on.

"Who am I supposed to have babies with right now? And even if I were pregnant, am I supposed to stay here until I give birth?"

That was impossible.

Pome replied, "Then I can't help! Master, you can only rely on yourself! But don't worry. Once you have babies, the rewards will be more than you can imagine."

Seeing that the system couldn't help her at all, Claire had no choice but to think of a way on her own.

In the Beast World, both male and female beastfolk could change into their beast form. Females could only stay in human form when they were pregnant. Her animal form was a Fox.

Claire felt curious. With a thought, she changed into a fox with yellow fur. She was a little bigger than a normal fox in the modern world.

But her fur was dull and dry, and she looked thin, like skin over bones. Even without injuries, she wouldn't be able to climb the cliff.

"Looks like I have to climb in human form," Claire said.

In her past life, Claire loved rock climbing. Before she got married, she was somewhat well-known in the climbing world. When she quit climbing because of marriage, many people felt sorry for her.

Claire changed back into her human form. At least she was much taller than the fox form. Even though she was thin and weak, she still stood five feet seven inches tall.

She found a long, flat stone. Then she tore a strip from her dirty fur tunic and used it to tie and support her broken leg.

Holding onto the cliff wall, Claire slowly stood up.

"Good thing my hands aren't hurt!"

She moved her fingers, then carefully studied the cliff. Below her was a bottomless drop. Above her was also very high, but at least she could see the top.

After choosing a path, Claire began to climb up the cliff wall.

The strong mountain wind blew behind her, drying the cold sweat on her back.

"Master, this is too dangerous! You have to climb more than 600 feet! Can you really do it? Boo hoo, I don't want to fail my first mission so fast! Be careful, Master!"

Claire kept quiet and held her breath, trying hard not to let the sweat on her nose drip onto the place where she needed to step.

One good foot supported her. The other leg couldn't help at all.

This was probably the hardest climb she had ever faced. There was no safety rope, and her body wasn't even whole. One mistake, and she would fall to pieces.

She didn't think she would be lucky enough to be reborn again.

Maybe beastfolk were stronger than humans. She could feel that she had a little more strength than in her past life. Even though every move was very hard, she was still slowly climbing up.

When she reached halfway, a strong wave of hunger suddenly hit her.

This body hadn't eaten any real food for two days.

While running away from the clan, the original Claire had only grabbed two handfuls of wild grass and taken a sip of spring water.

Now she felt like all her strength was leaving her.

"Master! There's a small plant in front of you to the left. It's a Level 1 Amethyst Berry! Very rare! Hurry and pick it and eat it!"

Sensing Claire's hunger, Pome quickly reminded her.

Claire steadied herself and slowly turned her head to look.

It was a small plant, less than a foot and a half tall. In the middle of four leaves grew a purple fruit, about the size of a grape. It looked slightly misty and very tasty.

But it was too small.

It didn't even look big enough to fill the gap between her teeth.

Claire carefully climbed over and picked the fruit. She looked at it from every side and then put it into her fur tunic.

Right after that, she pulled the whole plant out by the roots and stuffed it into her mouth to chew.

A strong taste of dirt filled her mouth.

But Claire still swallowed it down.

"Damn, I'm so unlucky! Other transmigrators become princesses or rich women. Or they are surrounded by handsome men. And me? I start with total disaster."

After calming her empty stomach, Claire kept complaining about her life. The more she talked, the angrier she felt. A stubborn fire slowly rose inside her.

"I don't believe it. I'm already this miserable—how much worse can it get? It's just rock climbing. I'll climb!"

All ten of her fingers ached and felt like they wanted to give up.

"Hey, stupid hands, hold tight!"

Even Pome felt nervous for her and didn't dare to talk much.

The rough cliff scraped against her stomach, making it burn with pain.

Claire started cursing the fur tunic again.

"This Beast World is way too open. This tiny fur tunic barely covers anything. The top won't stay in place, and the bottom leaves me freezing."

She gritted her teeth and kept climbing. She didn't dare look down even once. Her body pressed tightly against the cliff wall, as if she wanted to sink into it.

All of this was seen by a gyrfalcon circling high in the sky.

At last, Claire touched the edge of the cliff. She used the last bit of her strength and pulled her body up.

She rolled forward twice, barely getting away from the cliff's edge, and then fainted from exhaustion.

In the last moment before she lost consciousness, she saw a huge white wolf running straight toward her.

It's over.

I just made myself an easy meal.

That was Claire's final thought before everything went dark.

Chapter 2 Back to the Clan

When the huge white wolf saw Claire, his pupils suddenly shrank. He lowered his head and gently held her fur tunic in his mouth. The wolf picked her up and softly placed her on his back.

Before leaving, the wolf sniffed the air. He lifted his head and looked at the sky. There was nothing there. He pushed down the doubt in his heart, then turned and ran at full speed.

In her daze, Claire felt as though she was floating on water, rising and falling. She reached out to touch what was under her. Her palm met soft, smooth fur.

She tried hard to open her eyes. Her first thought was, I didn't get eaten!

The white wolf she saw before she passed out had almost scared her to death.

"You're awake?"

A gentle male voice spoke.

Claire's mind suddenly became clear.

She looked down and saw that she was lying on the white wolf's back. In her hand, she was holding his fur.

The wolf was huge. With his tail, he was about 20 feet long and more than 16 feet tall.

The land under his feet moved quickly backward, but Claire didn't feel very bumpy.

A strong feeling of familiarity rose in her heart.

"Zane?"

Claire called out softly, testing the name.

The white wolf answered with a soft "Mm," and continued speaking, "I just came back from hunting when I heard you ran out. I searched over several hills before I found you. You must be in a lot of pain. Hold on a little longer. We'll be at the healer's place soon."

Claire remembered now. This white wolf was Zane Evans. He was her only friend in the fox clan.

Because she'd been abandoned by her mother, the clan saw her as a jinx. Wherever she went, other beastfolk pointed at her and whispered.

Not a single child wanted to play with her.

Zane joined the fox clan when he was about eight years old. At that time, he had been wandering alone in the forest. Hazel found him and brought him back to the clan.

One time, when other beastfolk bullied Claire, Zane saw it. He'd been the first one to stand up for her!

At that moment, Claire thought Zane was like a hero. In her heart, she quietly kept a secret.

But Zane was the chief's adopted son. He couldn't protect Claire every single time.

"Thank you, Zane!"

If it weren't for him, Claire would've been eaten by wild beasts while she was passed out.

A short while later, Zane carried her back to the fox clan and went straight to the healer's cave.

The healer of the fox clan was an old female from the rabbit clan, Elodie Palmer. When she saw the wounds all over Claire's body, she didn't say anything.

She knew how those injuries had happened.

But the broken bone in her leg needed careful treatment.

When Elodie untied the stones tied around Claire's leg, she looked surprised.

"Did you tie this yourself?" she asked.

Claire nodded.

Elodie praised her and said, "You thought of this on your own? That's very smart! It kept the injury from getting worse. I must write this method down."

Claire blinked.

The Beast World was truly primitive!

But being primitive had its good sides.

There was natural food, clean air, and water. And bold, open cultures.

Just now, on the road from the clan gate to the healer's cave, she saw more than once couples standing out in the open, shirtless, hugging and kissing each other.

Some were even bolder. They went behind the trees and started making babies right there.

Claire felt like her eyes were burning.

But the other beastfolk didn't even glance their way, as if they saw nothing at all.

It seemed that this kind of life was normal here.

After Elodie treated her again, Claire's leg was covered with sticky herbs and wrapped up once more. This time, flat, thin wooden boards were used instead of stones.

Zane carefully carried Claire again and took her back to her cave.

All the beastfolk in the fox clan lived in caves.

Claire's cave was at the very edge of the clan. It was only about 15 feet deep. Inside, there were only a few old and worn fur tunics and a pile of dry grass.

Zane put Claire down. He fixed the pile of dry grass and spread a slightly better fur tunic on top. Then he helped Claire lie down on it.

After that, Zane walked out. No one knew where he got it, but he came back with a piece of bright red meat and began roasting it over the fire.

Watching him move around, busy with everything, even Claire, who usually wasn't easy to embarrass, felt her cheeks grow warm.

On the open space in front of the cave, Zane put down the meat. The huge wolf's fur shook, and he changed into human form.

He looked at least six feet three inches tall. He wore only a simple fur tunic wrapped around his waist. His upper body was bare, and the muscles on his chest and arms stood out clearly. All eight abs lined up neatly across his stomach.

His skin was fair, and his broad chest only added to his impressive, well-built body.

His silver hair fell straight down to his waist.

On his handsome face, the most striking feature was his pair of brown eyes. When he looked over, they seemed to shine.

Claire stared at him.

He was way too handsome!

Claire praised him in her heart.

Pome also screamed in agreement, "Zane is perfect! Not only is he handsome, but he is kind! Master, if you don't make a move, I'll feel bad for you!"

Claire complained silently, Feel bad? It's not like you can do anything about it!

Still, Zane was exactly her type!

Zane finished roasting the meat. He wrapped it in a large leaf and placed it beside Claire.

He said, "Claire, rest in the cave and focus on healing. During this time, I'll come every day to bring you food."

After a short pause, he added, "As for the Sacred Fruit, I believe you. I know you didn't do it. I'll help you find out the truth."

Claire felt a little embarrassed.

"Thank you, Zane. You've brought me meat so many times before. I really don't know how to thank you!"

In her heart, she was shouting like crazy, Marry him! Marry him!

Zane gave a small smile.

"When your dad was still alive, you once saved my life. What I'm doing now is only right."

Claire paused, feeling a little disappointed by that answer.

It was true. When Zane first came to the clan, he was an orphan. Hazel had many children and barely paid attention to him. One time, he fainted from hunger right outside Claire's cave.

Claire gave him some of the prey Tom had just hunted. That was how he survived.

She didn't expect that one simple meal would lead to this much kindness in return.

These days, Zane had already done more than enough.

Noticing that Claire seemed a little down, Zane sat beside her. He picked up the roasted meat. His fingers changed into sharp wolf claws and easily cut the meat into even, small pieces.

Such sharp claws!

Claire had seen them before in the original Claire's memories, but this was her first time seeing them so close. She couldn't help but tremble a little.

But Zane was truly gentle. He brought the small pieces of meat to Claire's lips.

"Eat more. You'll heal faster."

Claire didn't know what kind of wild animal the meat came from. It was soft and juicy, but there wasn't any seasoning. After only a few bites, she couldn't swallow any more.

Watching Zane so focused on feeding her, Claire's mind started wandering.

But wait, wolves and foxes? Could they even have babies?

Claire couldn't help but doubt it.

Pome burst out laughing.

"Master, this is the Beast World. Those worries don't exist here. Any beastfolk can have kids together, no matter what kind!

"Come on, Master, win him over! Have a bunch of babies with him! There will be lots of rewards!

"It's just a pity that Zane doesn't have any beast marks on his face. He's not even a Level 1 beastfolk. His strength is a little weak, so the kids would be weak too. If you became mates with a Level 3 beastfolk, the kids would start at a much higher level!"

As Claire listened to Pome talking nonstop, she learned more about the Beast World.

The beastfolk here had levels of strength. They were ranked from Level 1 to Level 3. Most beastfolk didn't have any beast marks, so they couldn't even reach Level 1. But once a beastfolk transformed into human form and a beast mark appeared on their face, they became a leveled beastfolk.

One beast mark meant Level 1. Level 1 was the weakest, and Level 3 the strongest.

Only males had levels.

Almost all females didn't have any.

Claire couldn't help thinking about the Amethyst Berry in her arms.

Pome had said that it could upgrade someone from Level 0 to Level 1. It was very rare! If that was true, she could give it to Zane and let him try it.

Claire slowly ate her meat while making plans in her mind.

Across from her, Zane was also thinking.

Claire's accident was partly his fault. If he hadn't gone out hunting, Fiona wouldn't have taken the chance to frame her.

Fiona was truly unreasonable and annoying!

She was the chief's daughter. He had tolerated her many times before, but now he had had enough.

The two beastfolk in the cave were both lost in their own thoughts.

Suddenly, a shadow walked in from the cave entrance.

A sharp, furious voice cut through the cave.

"Claire, you ugly freak! How dare you run away! You're done!"

Chapter 3 Will You Be My Mate?

Three beastfolk walked into the cave. The one in front was round and chubby, taller than Claire, with broad shoulders and a big belly that even her fur tunic couldn't hide, bouncing as she walked.

It was Fiona.

The two male beastfolk following her were her beast mates, both with a beast mark on their cheeks.

They both seemed to be Level 1 beastfolk.

Fiona looked plain, but she had big breast and wide hips, and many males in the clan liked her.

She had just become an adult less than a year ago, yet she already had five beast mates.

Seeing Zane in Claire's cave, so close to her, made Fiona even angrier.

"Ugly freak! You're still trying to seduce Zane! He's mine! Look at you—so skinny and small, like a runt that never grew right. You're barely even fit to have kids! If my mom weren't kind, you'd have been kicked out of the clan a long time ago."

Fiona's mother was the chief of the fox clan.

Before Claire could say anything, Zane beside her spoke up, "Fiona, I will never agree to be your beast slave. You can forget it!"

A beast slave was basically a bed slave, not even considered a mate. Totally without dignity and could be discarded at any time.

One of Fiona's beast mates sneered, "Hmph! You don't even have a beast mark. Fiona's too kind, making you her beast slave!"

Zane stayed calm, but inside he felt a sting.

Not having a beast mark was his biggest shame.

Even though most beastfolk didn't have a mark, he believed he was strong. Still, he had none.

Claire felt Zane's body tense up.

She smiled and said to Fiona, "Fiona, whether it's a beast mate or a beast slave, both sides have to agree to the bond. If Zane doesn't want it, forcing him won't work."

Fiona stepped forward angrily, glaring down at Claire.

"You thief, stealing the Sacred Fruit, and you still dare talk back? Hah, think you're tough now? If you ran away, why come back to the clan?"

The other beast mate behind her chimed in, "Isn't it obvious? This ugly freak probably couldn't survive outside, so she had no choice but to come back. So shameless!"

"Haha, exactly! An ugly female who can't even have babies—where else would she go? When she ran away, I told my mom not to chase her. See, she came back on her own!"

Fiona beamed with pride as she and her beast mates laughed in agreement.

Claire patted her fur tunic. Her hand hit a fruit hidden inside, and she couldn't help smiling. She took it out.

She held it up in front of her eyes and studied it slowly.

"Th-this ... this is an Amethyst Berry?!"

Fiona and the two beast mates stared in disbelief, their eyes blazing at the purple fruit.

"Ugly freak, where did you steal that Amethyst Berry?"

Fiona screamed and lunged to grab it.

Claire moved quickly, dodging her hand, switched the berry to her other hand, and casually waved it past the three of them.

"This? Oh, I picked it outside myself. Don't try to claim it's yours. Our clan doesn't have this fruit."

Claire knew just how rare an Amethyst Berry was.

Fiona tried to argue back.

"Liar! There's no way you could just pick an Amethyst Berry like that! You must've stolen it from another beastfolk. Give it back! Or I'll have my mom lock you in the beast cave again!"

Zane watched Claire with a smile. She no longer looked insecure or timid like before. This bold, confident glow suited her.

Claire suddenly turned the Amethyst Berry toward Zane, tilting her head up slightly, and said, "The reason I went outside was to pick this berry. I saw it a while ago, but it wasn't ripe yet. I counted the days, and today it's just perfect. So I snuck out to pick it. Zane, it's for you!"

Zane's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"For me?"

He really wanted the Amethyst Berry, but he still remembered when he first found Claire. She had been lying at the cliff's edge, her heart barely beating, limbs weak, as if she was about to return to the Beast God.

Luckily, the Beast God had returned her.

She actually risked her life for me?

Could it be that she likes me?

Fiona was about to explode with rage. She charged forward with all her strength, trying to snatch the Amethyst Berry.

Even though it didn't really benefit her as a female, she just wanted it!

She shouted, "Ugly freak! I'm the chief's daughter! Everything in this clan belongs to me! Give it to me right now!"

Zane grabbed Claire and effortlessly dodged Fiona's attack.

Claire ignored Fiona's unreasonable tantrum. She held the Amethyst Berry up to Zane's lips.

"Zane, this is a gift for you. Do you like it?"

Zane looked closely at Claire's palm-sized, little face.

Her eyes were huge, her chin was sharp, and she was way too thin.

"Yes. I like it."

Encouraged, Claire pressed on.

"Then, would you be my beast mate? I'll treat you well, and we can have lots of kids."

Inside her, Pome buzzed with excitement.

"Master, you're amazing! Just like this! Snag the first mate at lightning speed, have ten kids, then I can level up and finally sing my freedom in the system realm!"

Zane didn't answer for a long time. The cave was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Even Fiona was shocked by Claire's bold confession!

Was this really the same ugly female I had bullied for years—silent, submissive, and never dared fight back?

Had she lost her mind?

He held the hand of the new queen and, in the sacred temple, declared my dismissal.

Everyone looked at me as if I were a fading relic of a bygone era.

Even the elders remained silent—no one spoke up for me.

I surrendered the symbols of kingship and turned away.

But they didn’t know—true disaster only begins the moment I leave."

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"There is an issue with the blood-bond between Vivian and myself," Grayson's deep voice echoed through the council chamber. He had summoned the entire inner circle.

Damon, the Regent, knitted his brows. "Alpha Prince, please explain."

"I have lost my spiritual connection to Vivian," Grayson stated, his tone calculated and completely devoid of remorse. "Instead, the heavens have granted me a true soul-bond with Stella."

I kept my expression frozen, an unreadable mask of absolute indifference and calmness.

Stella trailed her fingers up Grayson's tailored suit sleeve, her eyes glistening with staged tears.

"We fought against it, truly, but a true soul-bond is destiny. We couldn't deny it."

"Therefore," Grayson took a heavy, dramatic breath, "starting tonight, Stella will assume the mantle of Princess of the Crimson Thorn Clan. Vivian, please hand the Eternal Chalice over to her."

The grand hall fell into a suffocating silence, broken only by the snap of candlelight.

I rose and walked toward the ceremonial alcove where the Eternal Chalice rested.

The obsidian vessel gleamed in the dim light, its surface etched with our ancient sigil: a bleeding thorn.

"Vivian..." Elder Elara started, her voice heavy with warning, but I raised a single hand to silence her.

I lifted the heavy chalice, walked over to the conference table, and set it directly in front of Stella.

"The symbol of the Princess. It's yours."

Her eyes flashed with greed as she reached for it. She straightened up, trying to look imposing.

"Vivian. As the former princess, you are required to hand over all bloodline archives. And, of course, your three centuries of Dreamweaving records."

I looked at Grayson. He nodded smoothly, his eyes narrowing in a silent threat.

"It's only standard protocol, Vivian. Stella needs them to secure the clan's future."

A cold, silent laugh caught in my throat.

This was always Grayson's standard play. Whenever his ambitions required a sacrifice, I was the one expected to bleed.

I said, my voice smooth, "Since you claim our bond is broken, we should make it official. Let's head to the Elder's Coven right now and perform the Bond-breaking Ritual. That way, you and your new plaything are legally and spiritually free."

A flash of sheer panic crossed Stella's face before she masked it with excitement. "Vivian, can we do that tonight?"

"Of course, we must honor the Prince's new destiny."

Grayson hesitated, yet under Stella's demanding gaze, he forced a tight nod. "If... if you insist."

"I highly insist," I said.

I glanced around the council table. The other elders looked everywhere but at me.

Damon avoided my eyes entirely; Elder Elara gripped her staff until her knuckles turned white.

They all knew. They knew Grayson's 'fading bond' was a fabricated lie to trade up for younger blood, and not one of them defended me.

Because they took my Dreamweaving for granted, treating me like an endless utility Bi11.

"This meeting is adjourned," I said, turning on my heel toward the heavy oak doors. "I'll vacate the Prince's estate by midnight."

"Wait, Vivian," Grayson called out, rushing down the steps after me. "You don't have to move out. You're still part of the clan family."

I stopped, turning back to him with a smile.

"Grayson, your new princess needs space to rule. Having the original wife lingering in the west wing would be an awkward distraction, don't you think?"

"But we still require your weekly Dreamweaving sessions for the core members..."

"Isn't that her department now? Or is your divine soulmate incapable of basic clan magic?"

Stella was already lounging in my high-backed velvet throne, clumsily spinning the Eternal Chalice.

Grayson's jaw clenched tightly, but Stella just laughed aloud, her voice high and arrogant.

"Don't worry about it, Grayson. I'll learn it by tomorrow. How hard can throwing a few dreams around really be?"

I inclined my head. "Then I wish you the best of luck."

I pushed open the massive doors, leaving a room full of guilty cowards behind me.

Walking down the cold stone steps, a dark smile finally spread across my lips.

The fools completely forgot that the Blood Moon Awakening was exactly ten days away.

And the ancestral spirits would only accept a high-priestess carrying pure blood to anchor the spell.

"Alpha Prince Grayson, Princess Vivian, are you absolutely certain you wish to proceed? This ritual cannot be undone." Elder Elara's voice reverberated through the ancient, damp catacombs.

I stood before the blood-stained stone altar and nodded without a single tremor.

"Perfectly certain."

Beside me, Grayson looked utterly terrified.

On the walk down here, he had cornered me by the iron gates, grabbing my wrist tightly.

"Vivian, stop this nonsense. Do we really have to legally sever it?" his voice had been strained with sudden panic. "We can find a compromise..."

"Didn't you lose your connection to me, Grayson?" I had hissed back, ripping my wrist from his grip. "Breaking an empty bond should be painless for an Alpha."

He had flinched then, but now, standing in front of the high priestess, he quickly slipped back into his role as the benevolent, caring ruler.

"Vivian, do you remember our bonding night?" Grayson murmured, turning his dark eyes toward me, attempting to use the old magnetism that used to bring me to my knees. "In the moonlit ruins of the old chapel... we swore an oath across centuries."

I cut him off, my voice cold as liquid nitrogen. "I remember it perfectly, Grayson. I also remember the secret addendum you whispered to my father right after the ceremony."

Grayson's eyes widened, the color instantly draining from his lips. "What...?"

"You said: 'This marriage will permanently cure the berserker curse in my bloodline. Vivian's First-born blood and her Dreamweaving are the ultimate keys to securing my throne.'"

I repeated his words back to him, savoring the panic in his eyes. "Did you honestly think I didn't know you married me for my utility?"

Elder Elara's sharp gaze snapped to Grayson, her expression twisting into deep disgust.

"Vivian, it wasn't—" Grayson stammered, his polished veneer cracking.

"It was the truth," I finished, turning back to the altar. "High Priestess, begin the severance."

The ritual was quick. As the final ancient incantation echoed off the walls, a literal weight snapped off my soul.

The heavy, suffocating chains of a three-hundred-year blood-bond evaporated into nothingness.

"It is done. From this breath forward, you are strangers in the eyes of the Progenitor."

When we emerged into the castle courtyard, Stella was waiting, poured into a tight, revealing red dress that looked more suited for a Vegas nightclub than a sacred clan ground.

"Finally!" she squealed, throwing her arms around Grayson's neck. "Now we can finally plan our mi1lion-doll@r wedding! No more hiding!"

She turned her heavily made-up eyes toward me, smirking in triumph.

"Vivian, sweetie, when are you moving out with your outdated furniture? I've already hired an interior designer from Milan."

That "outdated furniture" was a priceless collection of European Renaissance antiques I had spent two centuries curating. Every single piece held history.

"I'm leaving tonight," I said evenly.

"Perfect!" Stella clapped her hands. "Grayson, babe, tell him we'll turn this place into a far more lavish, spectacular love nest for us."

"Stella's right, Vivian," Grayson chimed in, eager to appease his new woman to soothe his own bruised ego. "A new administration requires a fresh aesthetic. If you need financial assistance for a down payment on an apartment..."

"Save your pennies, Grayson. You'll need them," I said, walking past them toward the driveway.

"Wait!" Grayson called out, jogging to catch up.

With a smug, arrogant flourish, he unbuttoned the top of his silk shirt, baring his chest.

"Take your garbage back before you go."

I glanced at his left pectoral. That was where our sacred bond-mark used to reside.

A star pattern branded by ancient starlight magic, symbolizing eternal fidelity.

I stepped closer, tilting my head to inspect it in the dim moonlight.

Then, I let out a soft, mocking laugh. "You really are a pathetic creature, Grayson."

I reached out, my cold index finger tracing the angry, red skin.

"This star wasn't dissolved by the gods. You burned it off with a toxic alchemical acid."

His face went completely white. "How did you—"

"And you covered the scar with this vulgar rose tattoo," I continued, my voice dripping with pure disdain. "You couldn't even afford a high-tier cloaking potion. You scarred your own flesh with black-market magic just to hide your wedding vows? Is this how an Alpha Prince says goodbye to three centuries?"

Grayson opened his mouth, desperate to save face, but I pulled my hand away and stepped back.

"It suits your character perfectly, Grayson."

I turned around, climbed into my sleek, customized Aston Martin, and slammed the door.

I floored the accelerator, the engine roaring to life as I tore out of the gates.

In the rearview mirror, I watched Grayson and Stella erupt into a furious, screaming match.

My vampire hearing caught every word.

"How the hell did she know the brand was altered?" Stella yelled, shaking his arm. "You said she was oblivious!"

"Shut up, Stella!" Grayson snapped, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It doesn't matter. The bond is legally broken. She's gone."

"But Grayson... she looked dangerous."

"Relax," Grayson scoffed, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. "Vivian is an addict. The moment her physiological craving for my blood hits her in forty-eight hours, she'll come crawling back to this castle on her hands and knees. She literally cannot survive without me."

Three days later, I was fully settled into my new multi-mi1lion doll@r penthouse overlooking the glittering downtown skyline.

For the first time in three hundred years, I was drinking expensive vintage wine and enjoying beautiful silence.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the marble counter.

It was Damon, the Regent.

I picked it up, taking a leisurely sip. "Speak."

"Vivian! Thank the gods!" The sound of glass shattering in the background. "You have to come back to the compound immediately!"

"Why?" I asked coldly.

"The Blood Moon Awakening is in four days, Vivian!" Damon choked out, his voice trembling with terror. "It's a complete, unmitigated disaster!"

I let out a laugh. "Damon, you have a new, young, vibrant Princess now. Let her handle it."

"Stella doesn't know what she's doing!" Damon groaned in agony. "She didn't realize the First-born blood formula requires a precise alchemical alignment! She mixed the wrong components, she can't translate the high-vampiric incantations, and she almost blew up the southern altar trying to commune with the Progenitor! Vivian, if the awakening fails, the ancient territorial Wards will completely collapse!"

"Fascinating," I murmured, swirling my wine glass. "Good luck with that."

"Vivian, please! Just come back as a consultant! Just talk to her—"

"Give me that phone, you old coward!" Stella's screeching voice cut through the line as she snatched the device.

"Vivian, don't listen to Damon's dramatic whining. I've been studying the ancient texts for three whole days. This little ritual isn't rocket science. It's just chanting a few old words and spilling some blood into a bowl. Just sit in your lonely little apartment and watch me throw the most flawless Awakening this century has ever seen!"

The line went dead.

I stared at the screen, genuinely amused, and poured myself a second glass.

Three days later, I attended the exclusive VIP opening night for my human friend Clara's contemporary art gallery downtown.

I arrived wearing a breathtaking, silver couture silk gown that draped over my curves like starlight, drawing the eyes of every Bi11ionaire and celebrity in the room.

I was relaxing on a private lounge in the VIP section when a strange, shimmering ripple in the air caught my attention.

It was a concealment glamour—and an incredibly shoddy, amateurish one at that.

Through the transparent magical distortion, I saw Grayson dressed in a designer tuxedo, holding hands with Stella, who was wearing a white lace bridal gown.

They were surrounded by a small group of inner-clan sycophants, holding an impromptu, unsanctioned bonding ceremony right in the middle of a crowded human art gallery.

They were so desperate to validate their illicit relationship that they couldn't even wait for a proper estate ceremony.

"Oh, great Progenitor, bind our souls in eternal glory..." Grayson chanted, his voice echoing under the magical shield.

I was about to leave, but Stella's eyes suddenly snapped to me through the shimmer.

"Vivian?!" she shrieked, instantly breaking her own ritual circle.

The glamour shattered completely, exposing the entire group of vampires to the open room.

Grayson's face turned completely ashen as he saw me standing there in my couture gown, looking like a literal goddess compared to his disheveled bride.

"Vivian? What the hell are you doing here?" Grayson demanded.

His eyes flashed with toxic, intense jealousy as he took in my appearance.

"Are you following me?"

I took a slow, elegant step forward, looking down my nose at him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Grayson. My human friend owns this gallery. I'm here for the champagne."

"Then why choose this specific gallery on our wedding night?!" Stella raged, her face turning an ugly shade of magenta. "You're trying to sabotage my moment!"

"Your moment?" I let out a cold scoff. "You are performing a clan rite inside a commercial human building behind a concealment glamour that just shattered because you lost your temper. You've completely violated the Secrecy Mandate."

"Those ancient rules are obsolete!" Stella spat, her voice shaking. "I am the new future of this clan! I don't need some old relic's approval! I am fully prepared for the Blood Moon Awakening tomorrow, and I will prove to everyone that I am ten times the Princess you ever were!"

Grayson puffed out his chest, trying desperately to regain his dominance.

"That's right, Vivian. Stella has a precise grasp on ritual magic. The elders are thrilled."

Right on cue, Grayson's phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket.

He glanced at the caller ID, and a smug grin spread across his face.

He looked at me, holding the phone up like a trophy.

"It's Elder Elara. No doubt calling to congratulate us on the flawless pre-ritual alignment."

He hit speakerphone, eager to humiliate me in front of the entire gallery.

But it wasn't a congratulations that exploded out of the speaker.

It was a blood-curdling, horrific scream of agony from Elder Elara.

Chapter 1

My husband was supposed to remove my tumor. Instead, I woke up mid-surgery to hear him say, "Cut deeper. Make sure she never wakes up."

The anesthesia was wearing off. It shouldn't have been—not during open abdominal surgery.

But my eyes wouldn't open. My body was frozen on the table, paralyzed by the drugs still flooding my veins, while every nerve ending screamed in white-hot agony.

I could feel the scalpel inside me.

And I could hear everything.

"Careful with the bleeding, Dr. Ashford." That was the scrub nurse. Her voice was shaking.

"Relax." My husband's voice. Calm. Controlled. The same voice that whispered "I love you" this morning over coffee. "By the time the anesthesia report is filed, it'll look like cardiac arrest on the table. Happens all the time with patients this sick."

"But she's not that sick," another voice whispered. "The tumor is benign. You saw the labs yourself—"

"I said cut deeper."

Silence.

Then the sound of a monitor flatlining for one brief, terrifying second before it resumed.

"Dr. Ashford, if she dies on this table, there will be an inquiry—"

"There won't be. I'm Chief of Surgery. I control the mortality review board. I control the pathology reports. I control everything in this hospital."

A pause.

"Besides," he said, and I heard the smile in his voice, "my dear wife made me the sole beneficiary of her trust last month. Eighty million dollars. She was so eager to prove she loved me."

Tears leaked from beneath my sealed eyelids, rolling down my temples into my hair.

Eighty million dollars.

My father had built Whitfield Medical—the largest private hospital chain on the East Coast—from nothing. When pancreatic cancer took him six months ago, he left everything to me. The hospitals. The research grants. The pharmaceutical patents. An empire worth billions, funneled into a trust that I controlled.

And like a fool in love, I had handed the keys to my husband.

Ethan Ashford. The brilliant, beautiful surgeon I'd met during my residency. The man who pursued me with the persistence of someone who truly, desperately wanted me.

I thought he wanted me.

He wanted the empire.

"The anesthesiologist is getting suspicious," the nurse hissed. "She asked why you changed the dosage protocol."

"Dr. Lena Chen?" Ethan's voice hardened. "She's been a problem. After today, I'll have her transferred to the Alaska clinic. Or better yet—have HR pull her credentials. She's an addict, isn't she? Everyone knows."

"She's not an addict. She's the best anesthesiologist in—"

"She is whatever I say she is."

Another long silence. I heard instruments clinking. Felt pressure deep in my abdomen—wrong pressure, in the wrong place.

He wasn't removing the tumor.

He was cutting something he shouldn't be cutting.

"There," Ethan said softly. "Nicked the hepatic artery. Just enough. She'll bleed internally over the next six to twelve hours. By the time the night shift notices, it'll be too late."

"And the surgical recording?"

"Already handled. The camera in OR-3 has been 'malfunctioning' since last week. I made sure of it."

My heart hammered so violently I was sure the monitors would betray me.

But the paralytic drugs kept my body perfectly still. A corpse that could think. A dead woman who could feel everything.

"Once she's gone," Ethan continued, his tone shifting to something almost tender, "Mia and I will wait a respectable amount of time. Six months, maybe. Then we announce the engagement."

Mia.

The name hit me like a defibrillator shock.

Mia Whitfield. My younger sister.

My father adopted her when she was twelve—a scrawny, terrified girl from the foster system. I had begged him to take her in. I tutored her through high school, paid for her college, wrote her recommendation letter to medical school.

She was the one who introduced me to Ethan.

She said, "He's perfect for you, Cora. You deserve someone who sees how special you are."

And now she was sleeping with my husband and planning my funeral.

"Is Mia ready?" the nurse asked quietly.

"More than ready." Ethan chuckled. "She's been ready since the wedding. Poor thing had to watch her sister marry the man she loved. But patience is a virtue."

He set down an instrument with a metallic clink.

"Close her up. Make it neat. I want a beautiful corpse for the memorial."

The operating room doors swung open and shut. His footsteps faded.

I lay on that table, split open and bleeding internally, surrounded by people who had just agreed to let me die.

But I was alive.

And I had heard every single word.

Something shifted inside me—not the blood pooling where it shouldn't be, but something deeper. The part of me that had been soft, trusting, desperate to be loved.

It calcified.

Right there on that table, with a sabotaged artery and a body full of poison, I made a decision.

I was going to survive this.

And then I was going to destroy them all.

Chapter 2

The recovery room was dark when I opened my eyes.

My body felt like it had been hit by a freight train, dragged behind it, then hit again. Every breath sent a searing jolt through my abdomen where Ethan's scalpel had done its secret work.

The clock on the wall read 11:47 PM. Surgery had ended five hours ago.

I was supposed to be dying.

The internal bleed from the nicked hepatic artery should have been slowly filling my abdominal cavity with blood. In six to twelve hours, my organs would start shutting down. The night shift would find me unresponsive. Ethan would rush in, perform a dramatic but futile resuscitation, and weep for the cameras.

A perfect murder disguised as a surgical complication.

But Ethan had made one critical miscalculation.

He forgot who trained me.

My father didn't just leave me a hospital empire. He left me a surgeon's mind. I graduated top of my class at Johns Hopkins. I completed a double fellowship in trauma and vascular surgery before I was thirty.

I knew exactly what a nicked hepatic artery felt like.

And I knew how to buy myself time.

Moving slowly—God, the pain—I reached for the IV stand beside my bed. My fingers trembled as I adjusted the drip rate, increasing the saline flow to maintain my blood pressure. Then I pressed the nurse call button.

Not the main one. The secondary line that connected directly to the ICU monitoring station.

A voice crackled through. "Recovery Bay 4, do you need assistance?"

"This is Dr. Cora Whitfield." My voice was a ragged whisper. "Patient in Bay 4—that's me. I need Dr. Lena Chen paged to my bedside immediately. No one else. Do not notify Dr. Ashford. This is a direct order from the hospital owner."

Silence on the other end.

"Ma'am, Dr. Ashford left specific instructions that he be contacted first if—"

"I own this hospital. Page Dr. Chen. Now. If Ethan Ashford walks through that door, you will be personally liable for what happens next. Am I clear?"

The line went quiet. Then: "Right away, Dr. Whitfield."

Twelve agonizing minutes later, Lena Chen slipped through the curtain.

She was still in scrubs, her dark hair pulled back, eyes sharp and alert despite the late hour. The moment she saw me, her expression shifted from professional calm to barely contained alarm.

"Cora? What happened? Your vitals are—" She glanced at the monitor. Her face went white. "Your hemoglobin is dropping. You're bleeding internally."

"I know."

"We need to get you back into surgery—"

"Not with Ethan." I grabbed her wrist. "Lena, listen to me very carefully. Ethan did this. He nicked my hepatic artery on purpose during the procedure."

Lena stared at me. "That's... Cora, the anesthesia can cause confusion—"

"The anesthesia wore off. I was awake. Paralyzed, but conscious. I heard everything."

I told her. Every word. The plan to kill me, the fake mortality report, the eighty million dollars, Mia.

Lena's hands were shaking by the time I finished.

"He changed my dosage protocol," she whispered. "I flagged it before surgery. He overruled me. Said I was being paranoid." Her jaw tightened. "He's been trying to push me out for months. Now I know why—I'm the only one in this hospital who would catch what he did."

"Can you fix me?"

Lena's eyes met mine. In them, I saw fury and determination in equal measure.

"I can fix you. But I need to do it off the books. If Ethan finds out you're getting emergency surgery, he'll know the plan failed."

"Use OR-7. It's in the old surgical wing. The cameras there aren't connected to the main system."

Lena nodded. She started preparing a portable surgical kit, her hands moving with the precision of someone who had performed hundreds of emergency procedures.

As she worked, she said quietly, "He told the staff you have stage-three ovarian cancer. That the prognosis is terminal. He's been laying the groundwork for weeks."

My blood ran cold. "I don't have cancer."

"I know. Your pre-op labs were clean. But he altered the pathology report. He bribed—or threatened—Dr. Moreno in pathology to falsify the results."

So that was how he'd sell it. Poor Cora. Died of complications during cancer surgery. So tragic. So unavoidable.

"There's something else." Lena hesitated. "After your surgery today, Mia came to the hospital."

My stomach clenched.

"She went straight to Ethan's office. They were in there for over an hour. When she came out, she was carrying a folder. I couldn't see what was in it, but she was smiling."

Smiling. While I lay bleeding to death one floor above.

"One more thing." Lena's voice dropped. "I overheard Mia on the phone in the parking garage. She said: 'The trust transfers automatically upon death. We won't even need probate. Daddy made sure of that.'"

My father's trust. The one he designed to protect me.

Mia had studied its terms. She knew that if I died without changing the beneficiary, the trust would default to my next of kin—which, thanks to Ethan's legal maneuvering, now meant my spouse.

And after Ethan, it would flow to Mia. The adopted sister. The backup heir.

They had planned everything.

"Lena," I said, gritting my teeth as she helped me into a wheelchair, "after you patch me up, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"Contact Raymond Park. He's my father's attorney. The one who drafted the original trust. Ethan doesn't know about him—Dad kept him separate from the hospital's legal team on purpose."

"What do I tell him?"

I looked at her, and despite the blood loss, despite the agony, I smiled.

"Tell him the contingency clause my father built into the trust? The one nobody knows about?"

"It's time to activate it."

Chapter 3

Three days after my secret surgery, I was officially "critical."

That was the story Ethan fed the hospital. He stood outside my private suite in his pristine white coat, performing grief for the board members who came to pay their respects.

"We're doing everything we can," he told them, his voice cracking at exactly the right moment. "But the cancer has spread faster than we anticipated. I'm afraid we need to prepare for the worst."

He even squeezed out a tear for the local news crew that showed up.

"My wife is the strongest woman I know. She built this hospital into what it is today. Whatever happens, her legacy will live on."

I watched it all from the hidden feed Lena had set up on a tablet propped on my pillow.

The surgical repair had held. Lena had done flawless work—rerouted the blood flow, sealed the damage, and pumped me full of enough units to stabilize my count. I was recovering faster than either of us expected.

But as far as the world knew, I was dying.

And I intended to keep it that way.

"He moved fast," Lena said, sitting in the chair beside my bed, scrolling through hospital system logs on her laptop. "The day after your surgery, Ethan reassigned all your administrative access. Changed the passwords on the trust management portal. Filed an emergency power-of-attorney petition with the court, citing your 'incapacitation.'"

"On what grounds?"

"Dr. Moreno's falsified pathology report. And a psych evaluation from Dr. Brandt claiming you showed signs of 'cognitive decline due to metastatic disease.'"

"I've never even met Dr. Brandt."

"I know. But his signature is on the form." Lena's expression was grim. "Ethan has been building a paper trail for months. Medical records, psych evals, even a revised will—"

"A revised will?"

Lena turned the laptop toward me.

There it was. A document filed with the hospital's legal office, dated three weeks ago, bearing my signature.

Except I had never signed it.

The forged will named Ethan as the sole executor of my estate and Mia as the secondary beneficiary. It superseded every arrangement my father had made.

"He forged my signature," I said flatly.

"And Mia notarized it." Lena zoomed in on the notary stamp. "She got her notary license six months ago. Convenient timing."

Six months ago. Right after my father died.

They had started planning this the moment he was in the ground.

I closed my eyes, letting the rage settle into something colder. Something useful.

"What about Raymond Park?"

"He's in. Flew in from DC last night. He's been reviewing the original trust documents." Lena lowered her voice. "Cora, your father... he really did think of everything."

"What do you mean?"

"The trust has a clause—Section 14-B. Raymond calls it the 'dead man's switch.' If the primary beneficiary is declared incapacitated or deceased under suspicious circumstances, the trust automatically locks. Every asset freezes. No transfers, no liquidations, no access. Not even by a spouse."

"The only person who can unlock it—"

"Is a Whitfield by blood. With a biometric key your father registered with a private Swiss security firm."

My fingerprint. My retinal scan. My voice signature.

Things Ethan couldn't forge, no matter how many doctors he bribed.

"There's more," Lena said. "Raymond found something else in your father's private files. A sealed envelope marked 'For Cora—Open Only in Emergency.'"

She handed me a plain white envelope, yellowed at the edges.

I recognized my father's handwriting instantly. Precise, slanted, the penmanship of a man who spent forty years wielding a scalpel.

My dearest Cora,

If you're reading this, then the wolves have come for what I built. I always feared this day.

I knew Ethan before you did. He approached me two years before you met him, pitching a joint venture for a surgical robotics firm. I declined. Something about him unsettled me—too polished, too hungry, too perfect.

When you brought him home as your boyfriend, I had him investigated. What I found wasn't enough to prove anything, but it was enough to worry me.

Three malpractice settlements, buried under NDAs. A previous engagement to a wealthy widow in Boston who died of 'complications' during a routine procedure he performed. And financial ties to the Mia I tried so hard to love as my own daughter.

They knew each other before she came to live with us, Cora. Long before.

I couldn't tell you. You loved them both too much. You would have thought I was paranoid, controlling, trying to run your life like I ran my hospitals.

So instead, I built you an ark.

The trust is your fortress. Section 14-B is your weapon. And Raymond Park is the only lawyer in the world who knows how to deploy it.

Use them. Protect yourself. And remember what I taught you in the operating room:

A surgeon never lets her hands shake, no matter what she finds when she opens the patient up.

I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you in person.

— Dad

The letter blurred in my hands.

I pressed it against my chest and let myself feel it—the grief, the gratitude, the fury—for exactly ten seconds.

Then I folded it neatly, slid it under my pillow, and looked at Lena.

"Get Raymond on a secure line."

"What's the plan?"

"Ethan wants to play doctor?" I said. "Fine."

"But he forgot—I'm the Chief of Surgery's wife."

"I know where every body is buried in this hospital."

"And I'm about to start the autopsy.

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...