u/Icy-Sandwich7792

​

Half a Million Goodbye

Chapter 01

Chapter 01

During the New Year's Eve live stream, my brother called me.

I spoke first:

"Wishing you a long and healthy life."

My brother sneered:

"But I don't want you to have a long and healthy life at all.

"I wish you nothing but a lifetime of pain."

I cut ties with my brother during the year he was at his poorest.

Now that he's successful, the first thing he does is seek revenge on me.

My tone remained normal:

"Wishing you a long and healthy life."

My brother grew impatient:

"Enough, I'm never going to wish you well.

"If I have to, then I wish you eternal suffering."

The host hesitated for a moment before reminding him:

"Mr. Brooks, that is just a voice recording of Ms. Brooks.

"When she passed away, it was indeed, as you said, very painful."

"Passed away?"

Liam Brooks froze for a second, then sneered:

"I hope you mean she's dead."

The host paused, then pointed behind him.

On the large screen behind him, my face appeared.

In the footage, I slapped the camera lens. Rain plastered my hair and shirt tightly to my skin, making me look like a complete mess.

My tone was full of impatience:

"Stop filming, I don't consent to this."

Immediately after, a slightly magnetic voice spoke with utmost sincerity:

"I'm really not a scammer. I'm a vlogger who documents all walks of life, and I can help you."

I turned away from the trash can and leaned my face in close:

"Is that so?

Then can you cure my cancer?"

The man was stunned.

I twitched the corners of my mouth and let out a laugh:

"Don't waste your breath. Go find someone else."

"Well... I can try!"

He grabbed me as I tried to walk away.

I looked him up and down,

"Pfft!"

I burst out laughing, pointing sequentially from top to bottom at his shirt, belt, pants, and shoes:

"Twenty, sixty, forty, fifty.

"Oh, and this camera, you got it secondhand, right?

"Do you know how much my illness costs?"

I held up five fingers to the lens: "Half a million."

The man's breath hitched.

I smiled, turned around, and walked into the rain, bending over in front of each trash can:

"Blackie?

Blackie, where are you?"

He followed me: "What are you looking for?"

"A dog."

"Is it yours?"

"No. I passed out from an attack just now, and he licked me awake."

The man said nothing.

I looked up: "If you have nothing else to do, just leave. There are plenty of people in this world you can help. Don't waste your time on me."

My hand covered the lens.

The screen faded to black.

[October 11, 2023, 9:32 AM — the Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's pity]

"You're Lillian Brooks, Liam's sister, right?"

I was sweeping the floor in the back kitchen of a cafe, and frowned at his words:

"Why are you here again?"

The man's voice came from behind the camera:

"Everyone online is saying you're a traitor, but they don't know you have cancer. I want to shoot a documentary series about you, is that okay?"

I shook my head: "Let them say I'm a traitor. I worked so hard to build this persona, are you trying to ruin it for me?"

"Wait!"

He hurriedly grabbed my arm:

"But you're penniless right now. Where will your medical fees come from?

Let me help you, I still have some savings."

I turned my head with a smile:

"Why do you think I cut ties with my brother?"

He paused.

I pulled my hand back and waved it dismissively: "I have a job, I don't need your help. You should go."

"I asked around. You only make two thousand a month here."

"Even so, I don't need it."

I turned my back to him, then glanced over my shoulder with a smile:

"The Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's pity."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I suddenly collapsed to my knees.

"Ms. Brooks!"

The camera shook violently.

On the ground was a large pool of blood.

"You!"

Oliver Hayes's voice was trembling. The camera was tossed aside, and a tall, long-legged man was helping me up:

"Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital!"

Just as he was about to pick me up, I raised a hand and pushed him away.

I grabbed a rag to wipe the floor, then wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand:

"No need."

Then I walked over to the sink and washed the blood off my face.

Oliver's voice quivered slightly:

"Please, just let me help you, okay?"

I cleaned up the last bit of blood, turned around, and looked at him seriously:

"The Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's help."

With that, I walked out of the frame.

Chapter 02

Chapter 02

[Nov 15, 2023, 3:21 PM — The little dog doesn't know he's going to die; he's just glad he has a home.]

"What do you mean?"

Inside the pet hospital, I looked at the vet in shock.

The vet sighed and shook his head:

"The original owner probably abandoned him because they saw he wasn't going to make it.

"This little dog starved every day and was bullied by other strays. He's already..."

I smiled: "I know. Were you going to say he doesn't have much time left?"

The vet hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

It was the exact same reaction as my attending physician's.

Oliver frowned: "Is there really nothing we can do?"

"...Just give him good food and make him comfortable."

The room fell into silence.

I patted Blackie's head: "No wonder the two of us met."

Blackie's tail wagged furiously as he kept rubbing against me, his tongue out and his bright black eyes looking up at me.

Oliver offered a bitter smile:

"He thinks you're his owner."

I froze for a second: "Is it really that much to be happy about?"

Oliver nodded, petting the dog's head:

"The little dog doesn't know he's going to die. He only knows he has a home again."

I stayed silent for a moment.

I patted the dog's head: "Then I'll call you Blackie."

Blackie let out a "Woof!"

in response.

Carrying Blackie out of the pet hospital, I turned around and faced the camera:

"You were the one who found Blackie and brought him to me. In return, I agree to let you film your documentary series about me."

[Dec 31, 2023, 9:00 PM — Then I wish you a long and healthy life · Part 1]

"Where did you get this?"

I looked at the videotape Oliver had brought and frowned.

He waved the tape and smiled:

"A good vlogger needs to fully understand his partner."

Saying that, he popped the tape into the camcorder. On the TV left behind by the previous tenant, a long-haired girl in a pink dress appeared, bending over to look at the camera.

Back then, there was still hope sparkling in my eyes:

"Hello, hello! Happy New Year 2015!

Wishing everyone a long and healthy life, and may all your dreams come true!"

"You were so lively back then."

Oliver sat beside me, his eyes smiling as he watched the video.

I leaned against the shabby sofa in the rented apartment, hugging a pillow, and poked my head out from the blanket:

"Did you dig up all the videos from my social media accounts?"

"I thought they were interesting, so I took a look."

I didn't say anything.

I watched my past self sitting among piles of gifts, wearing a small crown on my head.

A familiar voice sounded:

"Don't rush, let me help you open them."

Liam walked into the frame and sat cross-legged next to me.

I raised my hand and made a "Stop!"

gesture:

"No!

The Brooks family's daughter has always been self-reliant!"

The camera turned, and my brother fastened a necklace around my neck:

"Happy New Year to my little princess."

With a "click!",

a big smile of mine was captured in the video.

Then came a burst of noisy laughter, as I smeared a handful of cream on my brother's nose.

He froze for a moment, then curled his lips:

"Stop messing around, your hair is all messy. Come here, let me comb it for you."

The video was full of my cheerful laughter.

Outside the video, I also suddenly laughed out loud.

I wiped the corners of my eyes, my sigh carrying a slight tremble:

"After Mom and Dad passed away, everyone thought I was pitiful.

"But, actually, I'm not pitiful at all.

"I still have my brother, and my friends..."

The fierce wind blew through the drafty rented apartment. I wrapped the blanket tighter around me, tears falling silently.

My reddened hand was enveloped by a warm hand. Oliver looked at me seriously:

"I've saved some money. Let's go to the hospital for treatment tomorrow."

I sniffled and laughed:

"Your account doesn't even have a hundred followers, and you have to eat instant noodles with me every day. How much money could you have?"

His long, pale hands clenched tightly on his faded jeans:

"It's... somewhat helpful."

"No need, I have good news for you. I've saved two thousand dollars, enough for one chemotherapy session."

Oliver froze for a moment.

Then he smiled:

"Is it enough?

I'll give you some more."

I shook my head stubbornly: "No, the Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's help."

Saying that, I lifted my chin proudly at him:

"Don't worry, my current income can cover my medical expenses. Look, I bought these with my salary."

Saying that, I grabbed a handful of colorful pills, tilted my head back, and swallowed them.

Then I frowned and stayed silent for a long time, before finally rubbing my chest and letting out a long sigh of relief.

Looking up, Oliver was watching me, the corners of his eyes slightly red.

I burst out laughing with a "pfft!":

"Am I amazing?"

Oliver lowered his eyes, his smile tinged with bitterness:

"Yeah."

Chapter 03

Chapter 03

[Dec 31, 2023, 11:45 PM - Then I wish you a long and healthy life · Part 2]

In the video, the two of us, full from eating and drinking, leaned against the sofa waiting for the New Year's bell.

Oliver looked at me:

"Is that all you're going to eat?"

I was a bit tired: "My stomach hurts. If I eat any more, I'll throw up."

Oliver was silent for a moment, but eventually spoke up:

"Mr. Brooks... he succeeded. The new project's revenue broke a hundred million."

I closed my eyes:

"I know."

"Go back to him. He will cure you."

I shook my head.

"Why?

Do you want to die like this?"

"Did you think I still had any illusions of surviving when I cut ties with him?"

Oliver choked on his words.

Then, with a slight tremble in his voice, he spoke:

"Why did you have to cut ties with him?

Wouldn't it be better to let him face it with you?"

I laughed:

"Mom and Dad always said since we were little that the Brooks children never needed anyone's help, yet the Brooks family helped a whole bunch of relatives.

"But you know, when my brother went bankrupt, not a single one of those people was willing to help.

"Do you know how I felt watching my brother grovel in front of our relatives, begging them to pay my tuition?"

My breath trembled for a moment, and I gritted my teeth:

"My brother never begged anyone. After being rejected by all the relatives that time, he took me to find a rental apartment of less than twenty square meters, about the same size as the one we're in now.

"He said that even on his own, he could bring us back to the life we used to have.

"That is the brother I admire. Even with nothing to his name, he never lost his lofty ambitions.

"But..."

I laughed and looked at Oliver:

"Guess what would happen if he knew I was sick?"

Oliver looked at me, speechless.

"He would kneel down to those relatives."

As I said this, my very heart was trembling:

"Actually, when he was asking for my tuition, he almost knelt down. Good thing I stopped him, haha..."

I wiped the tear stains from the corners of my eyes:

"Before I left, he and his partner were gradually getting the business off the ground.

"Do you think his partner would still be willing to invest if there was a bottomless money pit of a sick person at home?"

Oliver's voice trembled slightly: "Lillian..."

I raised my hand to stop him:

"Cancer will take my life, but half a million would take his."

Oliver clenched his fists.

I smiled and sighed:

"The day I left, I cursed him out completely.

"In the end, he grabbed my arm and cried, begging me, saying things would get better soon and he would definitely bring us back to our old life. Seeing him so glamorous now, you definitely can't imagine how pathetic he looked back then, haha..."

Oliver spoke in a low voice:

"How did he finally let you go?"

I recalled:

"I called him a loser, saying his past achievements were all just relying on Mom and Dad.

"I said his current pathetic state was just ruining our parents' reputation, and if he still cared about our family bond at all, he should let me go find my own happiness.

"And then, little by little, he let go of me."

The New Year's bell rang.

Fireworks burst outside the window.

I raised my hand and wiped the tears from my face.

Chapter 04

Chapter 04

[2024.1.1, 0:00——Then I wish you a long and healthy life · Part 2]

Oliver turned to look out the window:

"Happy New Year."

"Thank you."

"Aren't you going to wish me well?"

I looked up: "You're asking for a blessing from a dying person?"

His hand gently covered the back of my skinny, withered hand:

"Please."

I looked at the warm yellow fireworks outside the window, as if I were bathed in hope.

I smiled:

"Then I wish you a long and healthy life."

The hand covering mine tightened, trembling slightly.

Oliver looked out the window, his expression unreadable.

The camera flashed by, and we both settled down to rest.

But in the darkness, my silhouette gradually appeared.

I leaned close to the camera, frowning:

"How could I forget to turn off the camera."

Raising my hand to switch it off, I paused.

After a thought, I dragged a chair over and sat in front of the lens, adjusting it left and right, my eyes filled with doubt:

"Will anyone actually see this video?"

Fireworks burst outside the window again, the warm yellow light illuminating my face.

I took a deep breath and gave the camera a soft smile:

"If anyone sees this, then, I wish you all, a long and healthy life."

Saying that, I waved at the camera and turned off the recorder.

[Jan 2, 2024, 10:01 AM — Don't say you forgive me, and never forgive me]

"Lillian!

Wait!

Lillian!

Lillian!"

Oliver hurried after me, his tone anxious, and grabbed my arm:

"Didn't you say you were getting chemotherapy?

What are you taking the money for now!"

I held the dying Blackie in my arms:

"To put him to sleep."

"What about you!"

"I've already made up my mind."

With that, I pushed him away and handed Blackie over to the vet.

"Lillian!"

Oliver gripped me tightly: "Is the dog more important or are you!

When the pain hits, you don't suffer any less than he does!"

"It's exactly because I know what the pain feels like that I want to put him to sleep!"

The grip on me loosened a bit.

I took the chance to shove him away and turned into the clinic room.

Blackie lay paralyzed on the bed, wearing an Elizabethan collar.

He had been crying out all morning, and now he was barely breathing out, let alone breathing in.

Seeing me, he still struggled to get up, wanting to nuzzle me like he used to.

"Good Blackie, it won't hurt anymore soon, okay."

I bent down and held his paw; the doctor had already prepared the syringe.

As the needle pierced his skin, Blackie's breathing suddenly quickened, he struggled to stand, and then fell heavily back down.

He lifted his eyelids to look at me, his belly rising and falling rapidly, his throat letting out a wheezing whimper like a bellows.

I held back my tears:

"I know, it's my fault, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Blackie's breathing gradually steadied.

As if he had never been sick, he just looked at me quietly.

A drop of water slid from the corner of his eye into his fur, accompanied by a soft whimper.

I stroked his head:

"Sleep, Blackie. When you wake up, find a good family, where the wind and rain will never reach you for the rest of your life.

"Come see me in my dreams if you miss me.

"I know, I know...

"No need to forgive, and never forgive me, just keep walking forward, walk until you reach home, a warm home..."

Blackie closed his eyes.

A severe stomach ache made me dizzy; I turned and ran out, vomiting violently by the flower bed.

When Oliver found me, I was sitting on the bench by the flower bed in a daze.

"Lillian!"

He hurried forward anxiously: "How are you feeling?"

I turned my head, my face covered in tears.

"Do you want to hear the truth?"

"Of course."

"I'm terrified, I want someone to help me..."

Oliver pulled me into his arms, raising a hand to wipe away my tears:

"It's okay, I'll take you to the hospital right now to hear what the doctor says, and while we're at it, get the chemo done. I have money."

"Thank you."

I smiled and shook my head:

"But I've heard from many doctors, the chemo is just a lie. That... has been useless for a long time.

"Do you know what terminal means?"

Oliver held me tighter, his voice trembling:

"Don't be silly. Let's get you treated first."

"If I could, I'd rather just have a lethal injection..."

"Don't be silly!"

I suddenly hugged him.

He had tossed the camera aside long ago.

What followed was my low whimpering, which then broke into loud, uncontrollable sobbing.

Chapter 05

Chapter 05

[March 15, 2024, 11:13 AM — Then let's meet again in the next life]

"Lillian!"

The camera shook, Oliver sounding frantic.

As the door opened, I was curled up under a small blanket on the sofa, slowly poking my head out.

He rushed over and snatched my phone.

I just smiled:

"I've already seen it."

He quickly unlocked my phone.

Social media was flooded with an overwhelming crusade against me.

My social media inbox was choked with 99+ abusive messages.

It all started because, on the day my brother topped the rich list, I left a comment using a burner account:

[Congratulations]

Unfortunately, someone dug up my real identity.

[What are you trying to do coming out at a time like this?

Now that your brother's made it big, you want to crawl back and claim the family?]

[Mr. Brooks would be better off raising a dog than Lillian. At least a dog doesn't abandon a poor home.]

[You even congratulated him, who do you think you are?

Mr. Brooks has adopted a new sister now. She stuck by Mr. Brooks when he was at his poorest. Stay away from him!]

...

Among the flood of abusive private messages, only one from an ID named [Liam] had been opened.

He sent a question mark.

I didn't reply.

But I typed a long paragraph in the chat box.

Finally, after deleting and editing, only one word was left:

[Goodbye]

In the end, I never sent it.

"Lillian, don't take it to heart, actually..."

"I know, I don't care."

I smiled and reached for my phone.

But the moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I pitched forward headfirst.

Oliver's heart-wrenching scream echoed in my ears:

"Lillian!

!"

The camera cut to me lying on a hospital bed, barely clinging to life.

The doctor's urgent shouts rang in my ears:

"Come here now!

Bed two needs surgery!"

I just quietly watched the TV on the wall; it was a broadcast of my brother's interview.

The reporter asked him:

"At this very moment, who do you want to share this with the most?"

A moment later, my phone rang.

On the other end of the line, my brother's voice was cold:

"Don't you have anything to say to me?"

I looked at him on the screen, sharp in his suit and radiating triumph, and smiled in satisfaction:

"Nothing."

My brother fell silent for a moment, then let out a cold sneer:

"How about you swallow your pride now, and I'll bring you home?"

I glanced at the back of my hand, swollen and bruised from the IV needles:

"No need, I've been doing pretty well since I left you."

My brother's face instantly darkened.

The phone was snatched away, and Oliver said coldly:

"Liam, she's dying."

My brother froze for a second.

Then he curled his lips: "Then, congratulations?"

"Liam, you!"

"I don't know who you are, and I have no interest in hearing your self-introduction. Right now..."

My brother glanced at his watch: "My sister is getting out of school. I need to pick her up for dinner, so I won't waste any more time on you."

With that, he hung up the phone.

I smiled softly:

"That's nice. He used to cook for me all the time too."

The bed was pushed toward the operating room.

Oliver gripped my hand tightly, and I struggled to curl my lips into a smile:

"What are you afraid of?"

"If you don't make it out, what... what am I supposed to do?"

I paused.

And spoke softly:

"Then I'll see you in the next life."

Our hands were forced apart, and the operating room doors shut completely.

​

Half a Million Goodbye

Chapter 01

Chapter 01

During the New Year's Eve live stream, my brother called me.

I spoke first:

"Wishing you a long and healthy life."

My brother sneered:

"But I don't want you to have a long and healthy life at all.

"I wish you nothing but a lifetime of pain."

I cut ties with my brother during the year he was at his poorest.

Now that he's successful, the first thing he does is seek revenge on me.

My tone remained normal:

"Wishing you a long and healthy life."

My brother grew impatient:

"Enough, I'm never going to wish you well.

"If I have to, then I wish you eternal suffering."

The host hesitated for a moment before reminding him:

"Mr. Brooks, that is just a voice recording of Ms. Brooks.

"When she passed away, it was indeed, as you said, very painful."

"Passed away?"

Liam Brooks froze for a second, then sneered:

"I hope you mean she's dead."

The host paused, then pointed behind him.

On the large screen behind him, my face appeared.

In the footage, I slapped the camera lens. Rain plastered my hair and shirt tightly to my skin, making me look like a complete mess.

My tone was full of impatience:

"Stop filming, I don't consent to this."

Immediately after, a slightly magnetic voice spoke with utmost sincerity:

"I'm really not a scammer. I'm a vlogger who documents all walks of life, and I can help you."

I turned away from the trash can and leaned my face in close:

"Is that so?

Then can you cure my cancer?"

The man was stunned.

I twitched the corners of my mouth and let out a laugh:

"Don't waste your breath. Go find someone else."

"Well... I can try!"

He grabbed me as I tried to walk away.

I looked him up and down,

"Pfft!"

I burst out laughing, pointing sequentially from top to bottom at his shirt, belt, pants, and shoes:

"Twenty, sixty, forty, fifty.

"Oh, and this camera, you got it secondhand, right?

"Do you know how much my illness costs?"

I held up five fingers to the lens: "Half a million."

The man's breath hitched.

I smiled, turned around, and walked into the rain, bending over in front of each trash can:

"Blackie?

Blackie, where are you?"

He followed me: "What are you looking for?"

"A dog."

"Is it yours?"

"No. I passed out from an attack just now, and he licked me awake."

The man said nothing.

I looked up: "If you have nothing else to do, just leave. There are plenty of people in this world you can help. Don't waste your time on me."

My hand covered the lens.

The screen faded to black.

[October 11, 2023, 9:32 AM — the Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's pity]

"You're Lillian Brooks, Liam's sister, right?"

I was sweeping the floor in the back kitchen of a cafe, and frowned at his words:

"Why are you here again?"

The man's voice came from behind the camera:

"Everyone online is saying you're a traitor, but they don't know you have cancer. I want to shoot a documentary series about you, is that okay?"

I shook my head: "Let them say I'm a traitor. I worked so hard to build this persona, are you trying to ruin it for me?"

"Wait!"

He hurriedly grabbed my arm:

"But you're penniless right now. Where will your medical fees come from?

Let me help you, I still have some savings."

I turned my head with a smile:

"Why do you think I cut ties with my brother?"

He paused.

I pulled my hand back and waved it dismissively: "I have a job, I don't need your help. You should go."

"I asked around. You only make two thousand a month here."

"Even so, I don't need it."

I turned my back to him, then glanced over my shoulder with a smile:

"The Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's pity."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I suddenly collapsed to my knees.

"Ms. Brooks!"

The camera shook violently.

On the ground was a large pool of blood.

"You!"

Oliver Hayes's voice was trembling. The camera was tossed aside, and a tall, long-legged man was helping me up:

"Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital!"

Just as he was about to pick me up, I raised a hand and pushed him away.

I grabbed a rag to wipe the floor, then wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand:

"No need."

Then I walked over to the sink and washed the blood off my face.

Oliver's voice quivered slightly:

"Please, just let me help you, okay?"

I cleaned up the last bit of blood, turned around, and looked at him seriously:

"The Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's help."

With that, I walked out of the frame.

Chapter 02

Chapter 02

[Nov 15, 2023, 3:21 PM — The little dog doesn't know he's going to die; he's just glad he has a home.]

"What do you mean?"

Inside the pet hospital, I looked at the vet in shock.

The vet sighed and shook his head:

"The original owner probably abandoned him because they saw he wasn't going to make it.

"This little dog starved every day and was bullied by other strays. He's already..."

I smiled: "I know. Were you going to say he doesn't have much time left?"

The vet hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

It was the exact same reaction as my attending physician's.

Oliver frowned: "Is there really nothing we can do?"

"...Just give him good food and make him comfortable."

The room fell into silence.

I patted Blackie's head: "No wonder the two of us met."

Blackie's tail wagged furiously as he kept rubbing against me, his tongue out and his bright black eyes looking up at me.

Oliver offered a bitter smile:

"He thinks you're his owner."

I froze for a second: "Is it really that much to be happy about?"

Oliver nodded, petting the dog's head:

"The little dog doesn't know he's going to die. He only knows he has a home again."

I stayed silent for a moment.

I patted the dog's head: "Then I'll call you Blackie."

Blackie let out a "Woof!"

in response.

Carrying Blackie out of the pet hospital, I turned around and faced the camera:

"You were the one who found Blackie and brought him to me. In return, I agree to let you film your documentary series about me."

[Dec 31, 2023, 9:00 PM — Then I wish you a long and healthy life · Part 1]

"Where did you get this?"

I looked at the videotape Oliver had brought and frowned.

He waved the tape and smiled:

"A good vlogger needs to fully understand his partner."

Saying that, he popped the tape into the camcorder. On the TV left behind by the previous tenant, a long-haired girl in a pink dress appeared, bending over to look at the camera.

Back then, there was still hope sparkling in my eyes:

"Hello, hello! Happy New Year 2015!

Wishing everyone a long and healthy life, and may all your dreams come true!"

"You were so lively back then."

Oliver sat beside me, his eyes smiling as he watched the video.

I leaned against the shabby sofa in the rented apartment, hugging a pillow, and poked my head out from the blanket:

"Did you dig up all the videos from my social media accounts?"

"I thought they were interesting, so I took a look."

I didn't say anything.

I watched my past self sitting among piles of gifts, wearing a small crown on my head.

A familiar voice sounded:

"Don't rush, let me help you open them."

Liam walked into the frame and sat cross-legged next to me.

I raised my hand and made a "Stop!"

gesture:

"No!

The Brooks family's daughter has always been self-reliant!"

The camera turned, and my brother fastened a necklace around my neck:

"Happy New Year to my little princess."

With a "click!",

a big smile of mine was captured in the video.

Then came a burst of noisy laughter, as I smeared a handful of cream on my brother's nose.

He froze for a moment, then curled his lips:

"Stop messing around, your hair is all messy. Come here, let me comb it for you."

The video was full of my cheerful laughter.

Outside the video, I also suddenly laughed out loud.

I wiped the corners of my eyes, my sigh carrying a slight tremble:

"After Mom and Dad passed away, everyone thought I was pitiful.

"But, actually, I'm not pitiful at all.

"I still have my brother, and my friends..."

The fierce wind blew through the drafty rented apartment. I wrapped the blanket tighter around me, tears falling silently.

My reddened hand was enveloped by a warm hand. Oliver looked at me seriously:

"I've saved some money. Let's go to the hospital for treatment tomorrow."

I sniffled and laughed:

"Your account doesn't even have a hundred followers, and you have to eat instant noodles with me every day. How much money could you have?"

His long, pale hands clenched tightly on his faded jeans:

"It's... somewhat helpful."

"No need, I have good news for you. I've saved two thousand dollars, enough for one chemotherapy session."

Oliver froze for a moment.

Then he smiled:

"Is it enough?

I'll give you some more."

I shook my head stubbornly: "No, the Brooks family's daughter never needs anyone's help."

Saying that, I lifted my chin proudly at him:

"Don't worry, my current income can cover my medical expenses. Look, I bought these with my salary."

Saying that, I grabbed a handful of colorful pills, tilted my head back, and swallowed them.

Then I frowned and stayed silent for a long time, before finally rubbing my chest and letting out a long sigh of relief.

Looking up, Oliver was watching me, the corners of his eyes slightly red.

I burst out laughing with a "pfft!":

"Am I amazing?"

Oliver lowered his eyes, his smile tinged with bitterness:

"Yeah."

Chapter 03

Chapter 03

[Dec 31, 2023, 11:45 PM - Then I wish you a long and healthy life · Part 2]

In the video, the two of us, full from eating and drinking, leaned against the sofa waiting for the New Year's bell.

Oliver looked at me:

"Is that all you're going to eat?"

I was a bit tired: "My stomach hurts. If I eat any more, I'll throw up."

Oliver was silent for a moment, but eventually spoke up:

"Mr. Brooks... he succeeded. The new project's revenue broke a hundred million."

I closed my eyes:

"I know."

"Go back to him. He will cure you."

I shook my head.

"Why?

Do you want to die like this?"

"Did you think I still had any illusions of surviving when I cut ties with him?"

Oliver choked on his words.

Then, with a slight tremble in his voice, he spoke:

"Why did you have to cut ties with him?

Wouldn't it be better to let him face it with you?"

I laughed:

"Mom and Dad always said since we were little that the Brooks children never needed anyone's help, yet the Brooks family helped a whole bunch of relatives.

"But you know, when my brother went bankrupt, not a single one of those people was willing to help.

"Do you know how I felt watching my brother grovel in front of our relatives, begging them to pay my tuition?"

My breath trembled for a moment, and I gritted my teeth:

"My brother never begged anyone. After being rejected by all the relatives that time, he took me to find a rental apartment of less than twenty square meters, about the same size as the one we're in now.

"He said that even on his own, he could bring us back to the life we used to have.

"That is the brother I admire. Even with nothing to his name, he never lost his lofty ambitions.

"But..."

I laughed and looked at Oliver:

"Guess what would happen if he knew I was sick?"

Oliver looked at me, speechless.

"He would kneel down to those relatives."

As I said this, my very heart was trembling:

"Actually, when he was asking for my tuition, he almost knelt down. Good thing I stopped him, haha..."

I wiped the tear stains from the corners of my eyes:

"Before I left, he and his partner were gradually getting the business off the ground.

"Do you think his partner would still be willing to invest if there was a bottomless money pit of a sick person at home?"

Oliver's voice trembled slightly: "Lillian..."

I raised my hand to stop him:

"Cancer will take my life, but half a million would take his."

Oliver clenched his fists.

I smiled and sighed:

"The day I left, I cursed him out completely.

"In the end, he grabbed my arm and cried, begging me, saying things would get better soon and he would definitely bring us back to our old life. Seeing him so glamorous now, you definitely can't imagine how pathetic he looked back then, haha..."

Oliver spoke in a low voice:

"How did he finally let you go?"

I recalled:

"I called him a loser, saying his past achievements were all just relying on Mom and Dad.

"I said his current pathetic state was just ruining our parents' reputation, and if he still cared about our family bond at all, he should let me go find my own happiness.

"And then, little by little, he let go of me."

The New Year's bell rang.

Fireworks burst outside the window.

I raised my hand and wiped the tears from my face.

Chapter 04

Chapter 04

[2024.1.1, 0:00——Then I wish you a long and healthy life · Part 2]

Oliver turned to look out the window:

"Happy New Year."

"Thank you."

"Aren't you going to wish me well?"

I looked up: "You're asking for a blessing from a dying person?"

His hand gently covered the back of my skinny, withered hand:

"Please."

I looked at the warm yellow fireworks outside the window, as if I were bathed in hope.

I smiled:

"Then I wish you a long and healthy life."

The hand covering mine tightened, trembling slightly.

Oliver looked out the window, his expression unreadable.

The camera flashed by, and we both settled down to rest.

But in the darkness, my silhouette gradually appeared.

I leaned close to the camera, frowning:

"How could I forget to turn off the camera."

Raising my hand to switch it off, I paused.

After a thought, I dragged a chair over and sat in front of the lens, adjusting it left and right, my eyes filled with doubt:

"Will anyone actually see this video?"

Fireworks burst outside the window again, the warm yellow light illuminating my face.

I took a deep breath and gave the camera a soft smile:

"If anyone sees this, then, I wish you all, a long and healthy life."

Saying that, I waved at the camera and turned off the recorder.

[Jan 2, 2024, 10:01 AM — Don't say you forgive me, and never forgive me]

"Lillian!

Wait!

Lillian!

Lillian!"

Oliver hurried after me, his tone anxious, and grabbed my arm:

"Didn't you say you were getting chemotherapy?

What are you taking the money for now!"

I held the dying Blackie in my arms:

"To put him to sleep."

"What about you!"

"I've already made up my mind."

With that, I pushed him away and handed Blackie over to the vet.

"Lillian!"

Oliver gripped me tightly: "Is the dog more important or are you!

When the pain hits, you don't suffer any less than he does!"

"It's exactly because I know what the pain feels like that I want to put him to sleep!"

The grip on me loosened a bit.

I took the chance to shove him away and turned into the clinic room.

Blackie lay paralyzed on the bed, wearing an Elizabethan collar.

He had been crying out all morning, and now he was barely breathing out, let alone breathing in.

Seeing me, he still struggled to get up, wanting to nuzzle me like he used to.

"Good Blackie, it won't hurt anymore soon, okay."

I bent down and held his paw; the doctor had already prepared the syringe.

As the needle pierced his skin, Blackie's breathing suddenly quickened, he struggled to stand, and then fell heavily back down.

He lifted his eyelids to look at me, his belly rising and falling rapidly, his throat letting out a wheezing whimper like a bellows.

I held back my tears:

"I know, it's my fault, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Blackie's breathing gradually steadied.

As if he had never been sick, he just looked at me quietly.

A drop of water slid from the corner of his eye into his fur, accompanied by a soft whimper.

I stroked his head:

"Sleep, Blackie. When you wake up, find a good family, where the wind and rain will never reach you for the rest of your life.

"Come see me in my dreams if you miss me.

"I know, I know...

"No need to forgive, and never forgive me, just keep walking forward, walk until you reach home, a warm home..."

Blackie closed his eyes.

A severe stomach ache made me dizzy; I turned and ran out, vomiting violently by the flower bed.

When Oliver found me, I was sitting on the bench by the flower bed in a daze.

"Lillian!"

He hurried forward anxiously: "How are you feeling?"

I turned my head, my face covered in tears.

"Do you want to hear the truth?"

"Of course."

"I'm terrified, I want someone to help me..."

Oliver pulled me into his arms, raising a hand to wipe away my tears:

"It's okay, I'll take you to the hospital right now to hear what the doctor says, and while we're at it, get the chemo done. I have money."

"Thank you."

I smiled and shook my head:

"But I've heard from many doctors, the chemo is just a lie. That... has been useless for a long time.

"Do you know what terminal means?"

Oliver held me tighter, his voice trembling:

"Don't be silly. Let's get you treated first."

"If I could, I'd rather just have a lethal injection..."

"Don't be silly!"

I suddenly hugged him.

He had tossed the camera aside long ago.

What followed was my low whimpering, which then broke into loud, uncontrollable sobbing.

Chapter 05

Chapter 05

[March 15, 2024, 11:13 AM — Then let's meet again in the next life]

"Lillian!"

The camera shook, Oliver sounding frantic.

As the door opened, I was curled up under a small blanket on the sofa, slowly poking my head out.

He rushed over and snatched my phone.

I just smiled:

"I've already seen it."

He quickly unlocked my phone.

Social media was flooded with an overwhelming crusade against me.

My social media inbox was choked with 99+ abusive messages.

It all started because, on the day my brother topped the rich list, I left a comment using a burner account:

[Congratulations]

Unfortunately, someone dug up my real identity.

[What are you trying to do coming out at a time like this?

Now that your brother's made it big, you want to crawl back and claim the family?]

[Mr. Brooks would be better off raising a dog than Lillian. At least a dog doesn't abandon a poor home.]

[You even congratulated him, who do you think you are?

Mr. Brooks has adopted a new sister now. She stuck by Mr. Brooks when he was at his poorest. Stay away from him!]

...

Among the flood of abusive private messages, only one from an ID named [Liam] had been opened.

He sent a question mark.

I didn't reply.

But I typed a long paragraph in the chat box.

Finally, after deleting and editing, only one word was left:

[Goodbye]

In the end, I never sent it.

"Lillian, don't take it to heart, actually..."

"I know, I don't care."

I smiled and reached for my phone.

But the moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I pitched forward headfirst.

Oliver's heart-wrenching scream echoed in my ears:

"Lillian!

!"

The camera cut to me lying on a hospital bed, barely clinging to life.

The doctor's urgent shouts rang in my ears:

"Come here now!

Bed two needs surgery!"

I just quietly watched the TV on the wall; it was a broadcast of my brother's interview.

The reporter asked him:

"At this very moment, who do you want to share this with the most?"

A moment later, my phone rang.

On the other end of the line, my brother's voice was cold:

"Don't you have anything to say to me?"

I looked at him on the screen, sharp in his suit and radiating triumph, and smiled in satisfaction:

"Nothing."

My brother fell silent for a moment, then let out a cold sneer:

"How about you swallow your pride now, and I'll bring you home?"

I glanced at the back of my hand, swollen and bruised from the IV needles:

"No need, I've been doing pretty well since I left you."

My brother's face instantly darkened.

The phone was snatched away, and Oliver said coldly:

"Liam, she's dying."

My brother froze for a second.

Then he curled his lips: "Then, congratulations?"

"Liam, you!"

"I don't know who you are, and I have no interest in hearing your self-introduction. Right now..."

My brother glanced at his watch: "My sister is getting out of school. I need to pick her up for dinner, so I won't waste any more time on you."

With that, he hung up the phone.

I smiled softly:

"That's nice. He used to cook for me all the time too."

The bed was pushed toward the operating room.

Oliver gripped my hand tightly, and I struggled to curl my lips into a smile:

"What are you afraid of?"

"If you don't make it out, what... what am I supposed to do?"

I paused.

And spoke softly:

"Then I'll see you in the next life."

Our hands were forced apart, and the operating room doors shut completely.

​

When He Gave My Place Away

Chapter 1

Ashton Kestell, the stuck-up heir of Atlanta's Kestell clan, lost his mind the second I boarded that flight to New York alone.

He's been tearing the city apart looking for me.

At the charity gala last night, I stood under the spotlight with a group of socialites, waiting to receive the brooch that symbolized the matriarch of the Kestell family.

As the Griffin's bastard daughter, I knew damn well if I didn't get that brooch tonight, they'd ship me off to New York tomorrow to marry that ancient, brutal old guy.

My childhood friend Ashton, who had long promised it to me, changed his mind at the last second.

He smiled and pinned the shining brooch onto the dress of his secretary, Crystal Horsely.

He leaned close to my ear, his voice low and gentle. "Let Crystal have her moment tonight. She's had a hard life and has never been to an event like this. Don't worry, Lynn. With me around, no one in the Griffin family dares to marry you off against your will."

Even under my pleading gaze, he kept his arm linked with Crystal's.

"Crystal is gentle but strong. She comes from a humble background, but this brooch suits her perfectly."

That one word—perfect—made me the joke of the whole night.

The next day, as I was on my flight to New York, I heard he'd panicked—shut down every train and flight leaving Atlanta.

***

Right now, Crystal timidly held onto Ashton's arm. Flashlights blazed around them. They looked like the perfect couple.

My chest tightened, but I kept my composure. Ashton didn't seem to notice the anxiety in my eyes at all.

The crowd slowly dispersed.

No brooch on my chest, my fate was set. They'd marry me off like a broken toy no one wanted.

Ashton saw me standing alone in the corner and walked over with a wine glass in his hand.

"These people are such snobs. I told them that giving the brooch to Crystal was just a temporary move. But they still disrespected me and snubbed you."

I stared at the man I'd leaned on for ten years straight, and a wave of helplessness crashed over me.

"Do you have any idea what this brooch means tonight?"

The closing gift at a charity gala was the unspoken signal of a marriage alliance between the two Griffin and Kestell families.

As an unwanted daughter of the Griffin family, no one but Ashton would offend the family matriarch, Lucille Griffin, my birth father's legal wife.

Lucille forced me to come here to crush my hopes and go to New York for the marriage alliance.

I'd promised Ashton that if he gave me two years to establish myself, I'd never interfere with whoever he wanted to favor or love afterward.

Ashton had sworn to protect me just yesterday, but today, in front of his secretary, he abandoned me without hesitation.

A bond that was over ten years old was just broken, just like that.

A flash of guilt crossed Ashton's face. He waved Crystal away to go grab something to eat.

"You've long been tired of these high-society events, but Crystal is different. She's just an intern, and this might be her only chance to appear in this circle in her entire life. Just take it as me owing you a favor for her!

He leaned down slightly, his eyes carrying the familiar indulgence he always showed me. "I usually give you whatever you want. Why are you being so petty today?"

When I stayed silent and frowned, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's her last day as an intern, which means she won't be taking direct support from me anymore. I just wanted to give her a proper sendoff, something to remember."

But his doing so would be the start of my nightmare.

"Ashton, you know tonight..."

Before I could finish, Crystal timidly returned between us. "Lynn, did I make you upset? Please don't blame Mr. Kestell. I begged him..."

When Ashton saw Crystal hunched over like a frightened child, his brows immediately furrowed in annoyance. "Enough, Lynn. It's just an accessory. I'll buy you another one."

He randomly plucked a fake decorative flower from a nearby decorative tree and handed it to me.

"I think this suits you best. That diamond brooch is tacky. Throwing a fit over it isn't like your usual laid-back self."

The fake flower was cheap, shoddy stuff—loose threads fraying at the edges, petals crumpled and bent from being tugged at.

It was just like me now: cheap and pathetic.

Chapter 2

That brooch stood for family approval and respect, and it represented the dignity of the future matriarch.

This cheap fake flower he'd plucked at random felt like nothing but a mockery of my foolish hopes.

The whispers around me grew louder, drilling into my ears.

"An illegitimate daughter who follows Mr. Kestell around like a lapdog actually thinks she can climb into high society? Haven't you heard? Even the intern is worth more than her."

Ashton coldly glanced at them, and the socialite glared hard at me before falling silent.

"Lynn, I'm sorry. You're used to being the center of attention. I just wanted to experience it once. I didn't think you'd care this much..." Crystal said.

"Me, the center of attention? Do you have the slightest clue what my life's like in the Griffin house, Ashton?" I demanded in exasperation.

Crystal lost her grip on her champagne glass, spilling it onto her skirt. Her eyes instantly welled up, tears clinging to her lashes.

Ashton frowned tightly. "Fine, since it's come to this, I might as well see it through. I'll take her to fix her dress. If you're bored, just go home."

Home? I no longer had a home in Atlanta.

Playboy Kamron Francey spotted me and sauntered over with a drink in hand, his eyes fixed on me.

He leaned in to sniff me. "You smell amazing, Ms. Griffin."

Without Ashton's protection, I was defenceless. Everyone and their mother would walk all over me.

Kamron remarked, "Mr. Kestell sent me over to bring you some food. I've told you before—don't hang onto one man. You'd be better off with me. Look how things turned out now. Got humiliated, huh?"

I spun around in shock and looked at the slick, well-dressed man, my chest feeling tight and suffocating.

Ashton knew Kamron had always lusted after me, yet he still left me alone here to face these nasty people.

I dug my nails into my palms. His betrayal made my heart turn even colder toward him.

I only asked for two years to free myself from the Griffin family's control. But Lucille saw me as an eyesore. She wouldn't even give me that much time, eager to sell me off for a good price.

When Kamron saw that I wouldn't even look at him, his dirty hand landed directly on my shoulder.

"Madelynn, if you didn't have such a pretty face, with just your status as an illegitimate daughter, I could do whatever I wanted with you. Do you really expect the Kestell family to protect you forever?"

His hand was about to tighten its grip when Ashton returned and swiped it away. "Kamron, did I not warn you to stay away from what's mine?"

"You already chose that secretary, didn't you? You're still holding onto Madelynn?" Kamron snapped angrily.

"My business is none of your concern," Ashton said coldly.

Kamron spat and stormed off, muttering curses.

Ashton turned to me, his brows deeply furrowed. "Why didn't you dodge when he touched you?"

The last faint spark of hope was shattered completely.

"You gave him this chance, didn't you?"

"I can protect you at an event like tonight, but that doesn't mean I have to stick to you like a bodyguard every step of the way."

"But you knew tonight's gala was..."

Before I couldn't finish, Crystal returned in a clean dress, a bright smile on her face, and cut me off again, "I want to go to the terrace for some fresh air, is that okay?"

I was difficult and sharp. She was delicate and sweet. It wasn't hard to guess who Ashton would favor.

He muttered to Crystal, "Sure. You're the star tonight. Whatever you want."

He then turned to me. "We'll talk tomorrow. I'll come find you at the Griffin's house!"

Tomorrow?

I sneered inwardly, "Tomorrow, you'll have to go find me in New York."

Chapter 3

Ashton took Crystal to the terrace.

Before leaving, Crystal glanced back at me. Her earlier timidity was gone, replaced by the smugness of a winner.

I never should have softened my heart and kept her on Ashton's interview list.

"You're used to being the center of attention. I just wanted to experience it once..." Crystal had said.

But was I any better off than her?

Mom died when I was little. They dragged me back to the Griffins, and no one ever really cared about me—not a single soul.

Lucille regarded me with hostility. Dad was too busy expanding his business empire and dealing with his countless mistresses to bother with a bastard daughter like me.

I learned to read people when I was a kid, and I did it just to get by. If I hadn't been pretty enough to be a marriage pawn, I would've "accidentally" dropped dead a long time ago.

I fought to survive. Then I reached out to the mysterious man and begged him for a way out.

He was ruthless. I forced myself to bargain with the devil despite my fear.

"The Griffins have three daughters of marrying age. Why should I believe a bastard like you can come out on top?"

"Because I have nothing to lose. I'm willing to bet with my life."

But the timing wasn't right. The mysterious man wouldn't step in easily.

The man from the Longford family in New York, the one I was meant to marry, was rumored to be cruel. No one who fell into his hands ever escaped unscathed.

The Griffins wanted the alliance but refused to sacrifice their precious daughters. So, I was the obvious choice.

The mysterious man must have heard about the gala. He sent a short message to me, "Solve this on your own."

I held my phone, my fingertips cold.

Crystal quietly stepped over to me, stroking my rigid hand like a hostess tending to a guest. "Make a guess. Does Mr. Kestell really know what that brooch stands for?"

I wasn't one to waste time on self-pity. Even in a hopeless situation, I would fight until I broke.

I found Ashton and asked directly, "Do you know what that brooch stands for?"

"Yeah. An engagement token. But it's just a formality. Who actually marries based on a piece of jewelry these days?"

So, he knew.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to your family and tell them not to marry you off."

"Then can you get the brooch back? I'll take it back to show Lucille and return it to Crystal tomorrow."

Ashton looked at me, surprise flashing in his eyes, followed by reluctance.

"That's not right. You don't ask for gifts back once they're given. How about I bid on something more expensive for you at auction tomorrow? Just don't fight Crystal over this one."

The brooch was carved with the family crest. It was irreplaceable. The anger and frustration I'd bottled up all night finally erupted.

"Ashton, you know I won't cling to you. I have someone I like. In two years, I'll set you free. Why do you have to ruin me at this critical moment?"

His smile vanished at once. He frowned and pushed me against the wall. "The one you love again? Madelynn, who in Atlanta dares to marry you besides me? You're staying with me. Everyone in Atlanta knows you're mine."

Being his shadow, his backup—those were just ways to survive in the Griffin family. Hearing him say it filled me with unprecedented shame.

I stepped back and accidentally bumped into Crystal.

"Lynn, don't be mad at Mr. Kestell."

Ashton immediately pulled her into his arms. "Madelynn, it's just one night. Don't be unreasonable. After tonight, she'll just be my employee, and you'll still be Ms. Griffin."

But the look in Crystal's eyes made it clear she wanted more than this.

I turned and left the hall, then got into the car sent by the mysterious man.

Inside, a cold-faced assistant spoke expressionlessly, "You lost the bet. You leave for New York tomorrow. From now on, you're on your own."

"I'll come back."

"We'll see if you can survive."

The assistant raised the partition, blocking my view.

And just like that, I was out of their game for good.

When I returned to the Griffin's mansion, Lucille glanced at my empty chest, maintaining a fake air of elegance.

"I raised you for twenty years. It's time to repay me. Since the Kestell family isn't interested, you leave tomorrow morning."

Nothing in this mansion belonged to me. Even the plane ticket was on my own dime.

I went to my tiny attic to pack. My half-sister leaned against the doorframe, admiring her newly done nails.

"If I were you, I'd never show my face again. Mom sent me to watch you. Don't take anything valuable, not even the dress you're wearing.

"Mom said you've enjoyed the good life in the Griffin family for so many years. From now on, you're on your own.

"By the way, I heard the guy in New York is still hung up on his ex. Good luck."

I took off the dress in front of her, removed every piece of jewelry, and dropped them into the tray until only a plain white nightgown remained. Then I walked to the bathroom.

She rolled her eyes and left.

Later, Crystal posted a photo on Instagram, showing her bright smile.

Its caption read: "Thank you for the most wonderful night. From now on, I'll protect you."

In the photo, the man with his arm around her wore the cufflinks I'd given him.

I left every gift Ashton had ever given me at the Griffin's house.

The next morning, at the first light of dawn, I left without waking anyone.

Slinging my old canvas bag over my shoulder, I headed straight for the airport. Security, boarding—everything went unbelievably smoothly.

As the plane taxied on the runway, I powered off my phone, severing all ties to Atlanta.

Suddenly, the plane's intercom blared sharply.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we sincerely apologize. At the request of the Kestell Group, all flights out of Atlanta are temporarily grounded. Please cooperate and return to the terminal, everyone."

Chapter 4

I watched the runway blur past the window, then slow to a stop. My mind went completely blank for a second.

Before the plane even fully stopped, my phone started buzzing like crazy as service returned.

Missed calls and WhatsApp texts bombarded my phone nonstop.

A moment later, a sharp ding sounded. A bank deposit alert blared on my screen.

The cabin announcement came again, "We sincerely apologize for the disruption. As compensation, the Kestell Group will refund all ticket costs at ten times the original price. Please cooperate and return to the terminal."

The complaints and restlessness in the cabin died instantly at the keywords "ten times compensation" and "the Kestell Group".

Behind me, a few young girls whispered excitedly.

One said, "The Kestell Group? The Kestell family in Atlanta? He shut down the entire airport just to find someone? That's straight out of a cheesy CEO romance novel!"

I unlocked my phone. The screen was covered with Ashton's name.

I heard he'd stormed into the Griffin's house early that morning. He didn't find me, only the emerald jewelry and the dress I wore last night. My old canvas bag was gone.

That's when he really lost it. He forced the servants to talk and learned I'd already left for the airport.

Ashton trashed the things in the house in a frenzy, then started calling me nonstop.

But my phone was off. I was already ten thousand meters up, waiting for takeoff.

When he realized I hadn't taken even his smallest gifts, the sense of losing control drove him over the edge.

That was what led to the absurd move of forcing my flight back.

I followed the crowd off the plane and stood by the huge terminal windows, trapped with nowhere to go.

Going back to the Griffin family to be humiliated, or moving forward no matter what?

It was still early. My stomach cramped from anxiety, so I sat down at a low-key pasta shop, planning to eat before deciding my next move.

The mysterious man's assistant texted, sounding professional, "Should I send someone to get you? Looks like the Kestell family won't let you go."

The Griffin family was a dangerous place. Ashton might still want me, but he'd never fight his family for me.

Going back would only bring more humiliation. Moving forward—there might still be a glimmer of hope.

I swallowed a bite of pasta and watched a group of black-suited bodyguards storm into the terminal. They stopped every long-haired woman who looked like me and questioned them.

Moments later, Ashton came into view.

He was sweating heavily, his tie crooked, clutching his phone like a lifeline.

He looked lost and desperate, nothing like the calm Atlanta scion he usually was.

He ran right past me, just a couple of meters away, but he was too frantic to recognize me in the corner.

He called again and again. My phone buzzed wildly in my bag. When I didn't answer, he was so angry that he nearly smashed his phone.

The bodyguards returned empty-handed.

I'd never seen Ashton look so ferocious. "Where is she! Block every exit! Not a single fly leaves Atlanta today!"

I checked my phone. Train tickets to nearby cities were sold out.

I opened the local news app. It was blowing up. Atlanta media always loved a dramatic scandal.

The headlines were all about the Kestell family heir. The bold words stood out: Mr. Kestell Parties With New Lover Last Night; Why Did He Shut Down the City Today?

Two girls touching up their makeup at the table behind me chatted loudly.

"He's so devoted! If someone did that for me, I'd marry him on the spot."

Her friend scoffed, "You have no idea. This is classic cheater's behavior out of regret. He gave the matriarch's brooch to some secretary at the gala last night. He probably drove his real girl away."

"What? He chose an intern over the Griffin heiress? Is he making this big scene because he regrets it?"

I sipped my soup silently. I didn't expect to overhear gossip about myself while eating.

"I bet Mr. Kestell didn't even take the brooch seriously. He thought it was just normal jewelry."

"How do you know that? Do you have inside info?"

"Please. My cousin was at the auction last night."

I felt a jolt. I pulled my hat lower without thinking.

I glanced back quietly. When I saw I didn't know them, I let out a quiet breath.

"I'm so jealous of rich people drama."

"Don't be. My cousin said the Griffin heiress has a terrible life. She's pretty, but she's just an illegitimate daughter..."

Chapter 5

"Mr. Kestell must've lost his mind. How could he give something that important to someone so lowly?"

The girl's tone shifted, sharp with disdain.

"But let's be real. An illegitimate daughter can't compare to the legit ones like us. She's nothing more than a plaything. That secretary might be poor, but at least she has a clean background."

I choked on my soup, flustered, and my coughing made them turn around.

They didn't recognize me, though—if anything, they spoke even louder under my stare, flaunting their little superiority complex.

"In my opinion, one day Mr. Kestell will get bored with that secretary and realize status matters. As my dad says, marriage alliances aren't about love but about position."

I hated listening to this. I stood up to pay.

As I passed their table, the loud girl's eyes went wide when she saw my face. She pointed at me, mouth hanging open.

"What? Did you see a ghost?"

Her friend looked over and blurted out, "Wow, what a stunning woman!"

"You're the..."

She glanced at the bodyguards rushing around nearby, her face pale. "You're the one Mr. Kestell is looking for? How are you..."

I pressed a finger to my lips, telling them to be quiet. They clamped their mouths shut at once, eyes wide with fear and intrigue.

Long after I walked away, I could still hear their muffled screams behind me.

"I told you that was the Griffins' illegitimate daughter! She's way prettier in person. Is Mr. Kestell blind?"

I'd barely reached another gate when another refund text popped up.

The Kestell family's power in Atlanta was overwhelming. They'd locked down even flights to nearby cities.

I held my phone, staring at the flashing red exclamation marks. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Just then, an unfamiliar number flashed on her screen—the call was from New York.

I picked up. "Hello, who is this?"

"Maverick Longford."

So, this was him, the man I was supposed to marry and rumored to be cold and cruel.

But the voice on the line was clear and cool, which strangely calmed me.

"I'm sorry. I..." I started.

"The private plane is waiting for you on the tarmac. My men will take you away."

Before I could explain my situation, I saw a sleek private plane taxi into place through the window.

Several calm middle-aged men in black coats stepped out and waited respectfully at the stairs.

"Okay."

I hung up without hesitation and turned toward the VIP entrance.

It started to drizzle in Atlanta. As soon as I stepped out of the terminal, a black umbrella was held over my head.

The man bowed slightly, polite but dignified. "Ms. Griffin, we're here to pick you up under orders."

At that moment, Ashton finally spotted me in the crowd.

He rushed over like a madman and grabbed my wrist, squeezing so hard that I thought he'd break my bones.

"Madelynn! Come back with me!"

My bodyguards moved at once, forming a wall around me.

The Longford family's men stepped in front of me, too.

The two groups stood off in the rain. Travelers pulled out their phones, watching like it was a rich-family drama.

Leading the Longford entourage was Austin Elliston, an elderly, gray-haired butler dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit.

He exuded the quiet authority of old aristocracy—his smile measured, his eyes cold.

"Mr. Kestell, we are here to take our future Mrs. Longford home. Don't get in the way."

​

When He Gave My Place Away

Chapter 1

Ashton Kestell, the stuck-up heir of Atlanta's Kestell clan, lost his mind the second I boarded that flight to New York alone.

He's been tearing the city apart looking for me.

At the charity gala last night, I stood under the spotlight with a group of socialites, waiting to receive the brooch that symbolized the matriarch of the Kestell family.

As the Griffin's bastard daughter, I knew damn well if I didn't get that brooch tonight, they'd ship me off to New York tomorrow to marry that ancient, brutal old guy.

My childhood friend Ashton, who had long promised it to me, changed his mind at the last second.

He smiled and pinned the shining brooch onto the dress of his secretary, Crystal Horsely.

He leaned close to my ear, his voice low and gentle. "Let Crystal have her moment tonight. She's had a hard life and has never been to an event like this. Don't worry, Lynn. With me around, no one in the Griffin family dares to marry you off against your will."

Even under my pleading gaze, he kept his arm linked with Crystal's.

"Crystal is gentle but strong. She comes from a humble background, but this brooch suits her perfectly."

That one word—perfect—made me the joke of the whole night.

The next day, as I was on my flight to New York, I heard he'd panicked—shut down every train and flight leaving Atlanta.

***

Right now, Crystal timidly held onto Ashton's arm. Flashlights blazed around them. They looked like the perfect couple.

My chest tightened, but I kept my composure. Ashton didn't seem to notice the anxiety in my eyes at all.

The crowd slowly dispersed.

No brooch on my chest, my fate was set. They'd marry me off like a broken toy no one wanted.

Ashton saw me standing alone in the corner and walked over with a wine glass in his hand.

"These people are such snobs. I told them that giving the brooch to Crystal was just a temporary move. But they still disrespected me and snubbed you."

I stared at the man I'd leaned on for ten years straight, and a wave of helplessness crashed over me.

"Do you have any idea what this brooch means tonight?"

The closing gift at a charity gala was the unspoken signal of a marriage alliance between the two Griffin and Kestell families.

As an unwanted daughter of the Griffin family, no one but Ashton would offend the family matriarch, Lucille Griffin, my birth father's legal wife.

Lucille forced me to come here to crush my hopes and go to New York for the marriage alliance.

I'd promised Ashton that if he gave me two years to establish myself, I'd never interfere with whoever he wanted to favor or love afterward.

Ashton had sworn to protect me just yesterday, but today, in front of his secretary, he abandoned me without hesitation.

A bond that was over ten years old was just broken, just like that.

A flash of guilt crossed Ashton's face. He waved Crystal away to go grab something to eat.

"You've long been tired of these high-society events, but Crystal is different. She's just an intern, and this might be her only chance to appear in this circle in her entire life. Just take it as me owing you a favor for her!

He leaned down slightly, his eyes carrying the familiar indulgence he always showed me. "I usually give you whatever you want. Why are you being so petty today?"

When I stayed silent and frowned, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's her last day as an intern, which means she won't be taking direct support from me anymore. I just wanted to give her a proper sendoff, something to remember."

But his doing so would be the start of my nightmare.

"Ashton, you know tonight..."

Before I could finish, Crystal timidly returned between us. "Lynn, did I make you upset? Please don't blame Mr. Kestell. I begged him..."

When Ashton saw Crystal hunched over like a frightened child, his brows immediately furrowed in annoyance. "Enough, Lynn. It's just an accessory. I'll buy you another one."

He randomly plucked a fake decorative flower from a nearby decorative tree and handed it to me.

"I think this suits you best. That diamond brooch is tacky. Throwing a fit over it isn't like your usual laid-back self."

The fake flower was cheap, shoddy stuff—loose threads fraying at the edges, petals crumpled and bent from being tugged at.

It was just like me now: cheap and pathetic.

Chapter 2

That brooch stood for family approval and respect, and it represented the dignity of the future matriarch.

This cheap fake flower he'd plucked at random felt like nothing but a mockery of my foolish hopes.

The whispers around me grew louder, drilling into my ears.

"An illegitimate daughter who follows Mr. Kestell around like a lapdog actually thinks she can climb into high society? Haven't you heard? Even the intern is worth more than her."

Ashton coldly glanced at them, and the socialite glared hard at me before falling silent.

"Lynn, I'm sorry. You're used to being the center of attention. I just wanted to experience it once. I didn't think you'd care this much..." Crystal said.

"Me, the center of attention? Do you have the slightest clue what my life's like in the Griffin house, Ashton?" I demanded in exasperation.

Crystal lost her grip on her champagne glass, spilling it onto her skirt. Her eyes instantly welled up, tears clinging to her lashes.

Ashton frowned tightly. "Fine, since it's come to this, I might as well see it through. I'll take her to fix her dress. If you're bored, just go home."

Home? I no longer had a home in Atlanta.

Playboy Kamron Francey spotted me and sauntered over with a drink in hand, his eyes fixed on me.

He leaned in to sniff me. "You smell amazing, Ms. Griffin."

Without Ashton's protection, I was defenceless. Everyone and their mother would walk all over me.

Kamron remarked, "Mr. Kestell sent me over to bring you some food. I've told you before—don't hang onto one man. You'd be better off with me. Look how things turned out now. Got humiliated, huh?"

I spun around in shock and looked at the slick, well-dressed man, my chest feeling tight and suffocating.

Ashton knew Kamron had always lusted after me, yet he still left me alone here to face these nasty people.

I dug my nails into my palms. His betrayal made my heart turn even colder toward him.

I only asked for two years to free myself from the Griffin family's control. But Lucille saw me as an eyesore. She wouldn't even give me that much time, eager to sell me off for a good price.

When Kamron saw that I wouldn't even look at him, his dirty hand landed directly on my shoulder.

"Madelynn, if you didn't have such a pretty face, with just your status as an illegitimate daughter, I could do whatever I wanted with you. Do you really expect the Kestell family to protect you forever?"

His hand was about to tighten its grip when Ashton returned and swiped it away. "Kamron, did I not warn you to stay away from what's mine?"

"You already chose that secretary, didn't you? You're still holding onto Madelynn?" Kamron snapped angrily.

"My business is none of your concern," Ashton said coldly.

Kamron spat and stormed off, muttering curses.

Ashton turned to me, his brows deeply furrowed. "Why didn't you dodge when he touched you?"

The last faint spark of hope was shattered completely.

"You gave him this chance, didn't you?"

"I can protect you at an event like tonight, but that doesn't mean I have to stick to you like a bodyguard every step of the way."

"But you knew tonight's gala was..."

Before I couldn't finish, Crystal returned in a clean dress, a bright smile on her face, and cut me off again, "I want to go to the terrace for some fresh air, is that okay?"

I was difficult and sharp. She was delicate and sweet. It wasn't hard to guess who Ashton would favor.

He muttered to Crystal, "Sure. You're the star tonight. Whatever you want."

He then turned to me. "We'll talk tomorrow. I'll come find you at the Griffin's house!"

Tomorrow?

I sneered inwardly, "Tomorrow, you'll have to go find me in New York."

Chapter 3

Ashton took Crystal to the terrace.

Before leaving, Crystal glanced back at me. Her earlier timidity was gone, replaced by the smugness of a winner.

I never should have softened my heart and kept her on Ashton's interview list.

"You're used to being the center of attention. I just wanted to experience it once..." Crystal had said.

But was I any better off than her?

Mom died when I was little. They dragged me back to the Griffins, and no one ever really cared about me—not a single soul.

Lucille regarded me with hostility. Dad was too busy expanding his business empire and dealing with his countless mistresses to bother with a bastard daughter like me.

I learned to read people when I was a kid, and I did it just to get by. If I hadn't been pretty enough to be a marriage pawn, I would've "accidentally" dropped dead a long time ago.

I fought to survive. Then I reached out to the mysterious man and begged him for a way out.

He was ruthless. I forced myself to bargain with the devil despite my fear.

"The Griffins have three daughters of marrying age. Why should I believe a bastard like you can come out on top?"

"Because I have nothing to lose. I'm willing to bet with my life."

But the timing wasn't right. The mysterious man wouldn't step in easily.

The man from the Longford family in New York, the one I was meant to marry, was rumored to be cruel. No one who fell into his hands ever escaped unscathed.

The Griffins wanted the alliance but refused to sacrifice their precious daughters. So, I was the obvious choice.

The mysterious man must have heard about the gala. He sent a short message to me, "Solve this on your own."

I held my phone, my fingertips cold.

Crystal quietly stepped over to me, stroking my rigid hand like a hostess tending to a guest. "Make a guess. Does Mr. Kestell really know what that brooch stands for?"

I wasn't one to waste time on self-pity. Even in a hopeless situation, I would fight until I broke.

I found Ashton and asked directly, "Do you know what that brooch stands for?"

"Yeah. An engagement token. But it's just a formality. Who actually marries based on a piece of jewelry these days?"

So, he knew.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to your family and tell them not to marry you off."

"Then can you get the brooch back? I'll take it back to show Lucille and return it to Crystal tomorrow."

Ashton looked at me, surprise flashing in his eyes, followed by reluctance.

"That's not right. You don't ask for gifts back once they're given. How about I bid on something more expensive for you at auction tomorrow? Just don't fight Crystal over this one."

The brooch was carved with the family crest. It was irreplaceable. The anger and frustration I'd bottled up all night finally erupted.

"Ashton, you know I won't cling to you. I have someone I like. In two years, I'll set you free. Why do you have to ruin me at this critical moment?"

His smile vanished at once. He frowned and pushed me against the wall. "The one you love again? Madelynn, who in Atlanta dares to marry you besides me? You're staying with me. Everyone in Atlanta knows you're mine."

Being his shadow, his backup—those were just ways to survive in the Griffin family. Hearing him say it filled me with unprecedented shame.

I stepped back and accidentally bumped into Crystal.

"Lynn, don't be mad at Mr. Kestell."

Ashton immediately pulled her into his arms. "Madelynn, it's just one night. Don't be unreasonable. After tonight, she'll just be my employee, and you'll still be Ms. Griffin."

But the look in Crystal's eyes made it clear she wanted more than this.

I turned and left the hall, then got into the car sent by the mysterious man.

Inside, a cold-faced assistant spoke expressionlessly, "You lost the bet. You leave for New York tomorrow. From now on, you're on your own."

"I'll come back."

"We'll see if you can survive."

The assistant raised the partition, blocking my view.

And just like that, I was out of their game for good.

When I returned to the Griffin's mansion, Lucille glanced at my empty chest, maintaining a fake air of elegance.

"I raised you for twenty years. It's time to repay me. Since the Kestell family isn't interested, you leave tomorrow morning."

Nothing in this mansion belonged to me. Even the plane ticket was on my own dime.

I went to my tiny attic to pack. My half-sister leaned against the doorframe, admiring her newly done nails.

"If I were you, I'd never show my face again. Mom sent me to watch you. Don't take anything valuable, not even the dress you're wearing.

"Mom said you've enjoyed the good life in the Griffin family for so many years. From now on, you're on your own.

"By the way, I heard the guy in New York is still hung up on his ex. Good luck."

I took off the dress in front of her, removed every piece of jewelry, and dropped them into the tray until only a plain white nightgown remained. Then I walked to the bathroom.

She rolled her eyes and left.

Later, Crystal posted a photo on Instagram, showing her bright smile.

Its caption read: "Thank you for the most wonderful night. From now on, I'll protect you."

In the photo, the man with his arm around her wore the cufflinks I'd given him.

I left every gift Ashton had ever given me at the Griffin's house.

The next morning, at the first light of dawn, I left without waking anyone.

Slinging my old canvas bag over my shoulder, I headed straight for the airport. Security, boarding—everything went unbelievably smoothly.

As the plane taxied on the runway, I powered off my phone, severing all ties to Atlanta.

Suddenly, the plane's intercom blared sharply.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we sincerely apologize. At the request of the Kestell Group, all flights out of Atlanta are temporarily grounded. Please cooperate and return to the terminal, everyone."

Chapter 4

I watched the runway blur past the window, then slow to a stop. My mind went completely blank for a second.

Before the plane even fully stopped, my phone started buzzing like crazy as service returned.

Missed calls and WhatsApp texts bombarded my phone nonstop.

A moment later, a sharp ding sounded. A bank deposit alert blared on my screen.

The cabin announcement came again, "We sincerely apologize for the disruption. As compensation, the Kestell Group will refund all ticket costs at ten times the original price. Please cooperate and return to the terminal."

The complaints and restlessness in the cabin died instantly at the keywords "ten times compensation" and "the Kestell Group".

Behind me, a few young girls whispered excitedly.

One said, "The Kestell Group? The Kestell family in Atlanta? He shut down the entire airport just to find someone? That's straight out of a cheesy CEO romance novel!"

I unlocked my phone. The screen was covered with Ashton's name.

I heard he'd stormed into the Griffin's house early that morning. He didn't find me, only the emerald jewelry and the dress I wore last night. My old canvas bag was gone.

That's when he really lost it. He forced the servants to talk and learned I'd already left for the airport.

Ashton trashed the things in the house in a frenzy, then started calling me nonstop.

But my phone was off. I was already ten thousand meters up, waiting for takeoff.

When he realized I hadn't taken even his smallest gifts, the sense of losing control drove him over the edge.

That was what led to the absurd move of forcing my flight back.

I followed the crowd off the plane and stood by the huge terminal windows, trapped with nowhere to go.

Going back to the Griffin family to be humiliated, or moving forward no matter what?

It was still early. My stomach cramped from anxiety, so I sat down at a low-key pasta shop, planning to eat before deciding my next move.

The mysterious man's assistant texted, sounding professional, "Should I send someone to get you? Looks like the Kestell family won't let you go."

The Griffin family was a dangerous place. Ashton might still want me, but he'd never fight his family for me.

Going back would only bring more humiliation. Moving forward—there might still be a glimmer of hope.

I swallowed a bite of pasta and watched a group of black-suited bodyguards storm into the terminal. They stopped every long-haired woman who looked like me and questioned them.

Moments later, Ashton came into view.

He was sweating heavily, his tie crooked, clutching his phone like a lifeline.

He looked lost and desperate, nothing like the calm Atlanta scion he usually was.

He ran right past me, just a couple of meters away, but he was too frantic to recognize me in the corner.

He called again and again. My phone buzzed wildly in my bag. When I didn't answer, he was so angry that he nearly smashed his phone.

The bodyguards returned empty-handed.

I'd never seen Ashton look so ferocious. "Where is she! Block every exit! Not a single fly leaves Atlanta today!"

I checked my phone. Train tickets to nearby cities were sold out.

I opened the local news app. It was blowing up. Atlanta media always loved a dramatic scandal.

The headlines were all about the Kestell family heir. The bold words stood out: Mr. Kestell Parties With New Lover Last Night; Why Did He Shut Down the City Today?

Two girls touching up their makeup at the table behind me chatted loudly.

"He's so devoted! If someone did that for me, I'd marry him on the spot."

Her friend scoffed, "You have no idea. This is classic cheater's behavior out of regret. He gave the matriarch's brooch to some secretary at the gala last night. He probably drove his real girl away."

"What? He chose an intern over the Griffin heiress? Is he making this big scene because he regrets it?"

I sipped my soup silently. I didn't expect to overhear gossip about myself while eating.

"I bet Mr. Kestell didn't even take the brooch seriously. He thought it was just normal jewelry."

"How do you know that? Do you have inside info?"

"Please. My cousin was at the auction last night."

I felt a jolt. I pulled my hat lower without thinking.

I glanced back quietly. When I saw I didn't know them, I let out a quiet breath.

"I'm so jealous of rich people drama."

"Don't be. My cousin said the Griffin heiress has a terrible life. She's pretty, but she's just an illegitimate daughter..."

Chapter 5

"Mr. Kestell must've lost his mind. How could he give something that important to someone so lowly?"

The girl's tone shifted, sharp with disdain.

"But let's be real. An illegitimate daughter can't compare to the legit ones like us. She's nothing more than a plaything. That secretary might be poor, but at least she has a clean background."

I choked on my soup, flustered, and my coughing made them turn around.

They didn't recognize me, though—if anything, they spoke even louder under my stare, flaunting their little superiority complex.

"In my opinion, one day Mr. Kestell will get bored with that secretary and realize status matters. As my dad says, marriage alliances aren't about love but about position."

I hated listening to this. I stood up to pay.

As I passed their table, the loud girl's eyes went wide when she saw my face. She pointed at me, mouth hanging open.

"What? Did you see a ghost?"

Her friend looked over and blurted out, "Wow, what a stunning woman!"

"You're the..."

She glanced at the bodyguards rushing around nearby, her face pale. "You're the one Mr. Kestell is looking for? How are you..."

I pressed a finger to my lips, telling them to be quiet. They clamped their mouths shut at once, eyes wide with fear and intrigue.

Long after I walked away, I could still hear their muffled screams behind me.

"I told you that was the Griffins' illegitimate daughter! She's way prettier in person. Is Mr. Kestell blind?"

I'd barely reached another gate when another refund text popped up.

The Kestell family's power in Atlanta was overwhelming. They'd locked down even flights to nearby cities.

I held my phone, staring at the flashing red exclamation marks. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Just then, an unfamiliar number flashed on her screen—the call was from New York.

I picked up. "Hello, who is this?"

"Maverick Longford."

So, this was him, the man I was supposed to marry and rumored to be cold and cruel.

But the voice on the line was clear and cool, which strangely calmed me.

"I'm sorry. I..." I started.

"The private plane is waiting for you on the tarmac. My men will take you away."

Before I could explain my situation, I saw a sleek private plane taxi into place through the window.

Several calm middle-aged men in black coats stepped out and waited respectfully at the stairs.

"Okay."

I hung up without hesitation and turned toward the VIP entrance.

It started to drizzle in Atlanta. As soon as I stepped out of the terminal, a black umbrella was held over my head.

The man bowed slightly, polite but dignified. "Ms. Griffin, we're here to pick you up under orders."

At that moment, Ashton finally spotted me in the crowd.

He rushed over like a madman and grabbed my wrist, squeezing so hard that I thought he'd break my bones.

"Madelynn! Come back with me!"

My bodyguards moved at once, forming a wall around me.

The Longford family's men stepped in front of me, too.

The two groups stood off in the rain. Travelers pulled out their phones, watching like it was a rich-family drama.

Leading the Longford entourage was Austin Elliston, an elderly, gray-haired butler dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit.

He exuded the quiet authority of old aristocracy—his smile measured, his eyes cold.

"Mr. Kestell, we are here to take our future Mrs. Longford home. Don't get in the way."

“Explain,” my ex-mate—and current boss—demanded, holding up the patern1ty test.

“Which part?” I asked calmly.

“The pregn@ncy? The birth? Or the lie that kept us both alive?”

He stormed into my tiny apartment, fury swallowing the space.

I met his eyes.

“You rejected me. Remember?” I said softly.

“Right after you found out I was your mate. After three years of being your fwb.”

His jaw clenched.

“You never wanted me,” I continued. “So why do you want my child now?”

I pushed him toward the door, ready to shut it.

He stopped it with his hand.

“What if,” he whispered, voice cracking,

“I regretted it?”

The day we got our wolves, Nick and I s1ept together one last time.

A breakup fk.

Afterward, he handed me a cig@re//tte with practiced ease and chuckled.

"My future Luna," he said lightly, "would never be a she-wolf who sm0kes after sx."

My throat tightened. I asked him why.

He answered calmly, almost gently.

"Avery, only a pure, flawless she-wolf can stand beside me as my Luna."

I stayed silent for a long time. Then I cvt off all contact with him and left his pack.

When we met again, he had become my new boss.

To avoid awkwardness, I submitted my resignation proactively.

Instead, he cornered me in the CEO's office.

"It's been five years," he said, blocking my way. "How about another round?"

I lowered my gaze.

"No. I need to pick up my child from school."

The air went still.

Nick froze.

I tried to stand up from his lap, but his grip tightened, pinning me in place.

The heat in his eyes dimmed. A faint crack appeared in his usual calm, controlled expression.

Grinding his teeth, he asked, "How old is your child?"

I said nothing at first. Then, quietly, "Three."

Three.

Not four.

And it had been five years since the night he rejected me.

That child was not his.

Nick clearly understood that.

I tried to stand again. This time, the large hand at my wa1st did not stop me.

As I reached the door, he spoke again, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"I remember your personnel file says you never married."

I paused, steadied myself, and turned back calmly.

"I signed a bond-sealing deal not long ago."

"Just signed," he said slowly, "and your child is already three?"

I nodded, completely composed.

"Yes. We had the child before mate-bonding."

He did not respond.

His sharp gaze dropped to the cheap bonding ring on my finger, and he let out a scoffing laugh.

I did not feel embarrassed at all.

I held my hand up openly, almost shoving it in his face.

The moment I sensed his temper flaring, I turned and fled.

That night, back home, I let out a long breath.

Sometimes, lies were the most effective way to deal with unknown trouble.

I had bought the ring yesterday at a small shop.

Cheap and practical.

I figured it was more than enough to erase whatever lingering affection Nick still had for me.

Sure enough, my resignation was approved the very next day.

HR personally came by in the afternoon to inform me that as long as I finished handover within a week, I could leave.

Normally, resignations took a month.

Needing only one week made it obvious whose decision it was.

I nodded and began transferring my workload to the intern.

The new intern, Giselle, was sweet and enthusiastic.

At the very least, while I was training her, I never paid for breakfast or afternoon coffee herself.

As the workday neared its end, Giselle suddenly spoke up shyly.

"Avery, can I leave a bit early tonight? My boyfriend asked me out to dinner."

I hesitated.

Not because I could not let her go, but because I also needed to leave early to pick up Isabel.

Seeing me silent for too long, she grew anxious, clasping her hands together and showering me with pleas.

I could not help but laugh.

"It's fine. Go ahead."

She thanked me excitedly and began packing.

"My boyfriend's coming down now."

I blinked.

"He works here too?"

Giselle smiled mysteriously.

"No, he's actually…"

Before she could finish, a low, familiar voice cvt in.

"Ready?"

Chapter 2

My body stiffened for a split second.

If this were a voice I had never heard before, I probably would have looked up out of curiosity.

Unfortunately, this voice had haunted my nightmares for five full years.

On countless nights when sleep only came with medication, his words echoed in my ears over and over again.

"Avery, you're too well-behaved. I'll corrupt you."

Under that gentle coaxing, I fell.

And I learned how to sm//0ke.

At first, because Nick was the pack's future Alpha, I kept my distance.

But that night at the party, we got recklessly drunk.

Somewhere along the way, we ended up s1eeping together. Just friends with ben//efits.

We never defined our relationship. He simply stayed by my side.

I still remembered one evening clearly.

He had just finished a date with another she-wolf and driven her home. His car was parked outside her house.

I stepped outside in a coat to take out the trash and knocked on his car window.

"I saw it," I said, hands in my pockets, pretending not to care.

"I think we should end whatever this is."

I hoped he would agree, because I was exhausted by the endless she-wolves around him.

But I also hoped he would refuse, because I was already in love with him.

At that moment, even the wind seemed to slow, like a movie paused mid-frame.

I waited quietly for his answer.

Nick turned his head toward me.

His blue eyes were unfathomably deep, dangerously alluring.

A trace of indulgent amusement appeared on his face.

"We're not some casual thing."

Back then, I was drowning in his gaze.

I did not understand the meaning behind his words.

I only thought he wanted us to become something more.

Until the day we got our wolves.

Until we discovered we were fated mates.

That was the last time we saw each other.

After a night of p@ssion, he handed me a cig@re//tte again.

"My Luna," he said, "will never be a she-wolf who sm//0kes after sx."

I forced down the sob rising in my thr0at and asked him why.

Nick smiled.

"Avery, my Luna must be a pure, perfect good girl."

Tears blurred my vision. I forgot how to breathe.

Good girl.

He liked pure, flawless good girls.

Yet once upon a time, he had told me I was too innocent, too well-behaved, that he did not know how to touch me.

Only now did I finally understand what he meant.

Once I was no longer well-behaved, I became something disp0sab1e. Something fun.

"Avery?"

I snapped out of my thoughts, my expression returning to calm neutrality.

Giselle spun around excitedly, grabbed her bag, and jogged over. Then she suddenly looked back at me.

"Avery, aren't you also rushing to pick up your daughter Isabel? We can give you a ride."

I was about to refuse when Nick walked straight over, picked up the bag I had left on my desk, and headed for the parking lot without giving me a chance to object.

The atmosphere inside the car was unnervingly quiet, broken only by Giselle's occasional chatter.

Nick tapped the steering wheel casually, responding to her in a flat tone.

His gaze drifted toward me again and again.

Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Giselle tried to make conversation.

"Avery, when you work late, does your mate usually pick up your child?"

Hearing the word "mate" caught me off guard.

I froze for a moment, then shook my head and made something up.

"He works out of town. He's not home much."

She gave me a knowing look, her eyes drifting pointedly to the ring I'd bought a few days ago.

"Is that your bonding ring? It looks kind of faded."

Chapter 3

"Like something off a Wa1mart clearance rack."

She stuck out her tongue, looking embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. Don't get me wrong."

Giselle seemed to realize she had misspoken and turned toward me to apologize.

Still, I caught the trace of disdain hidden in her eyes, along with an inexplicable sense of superiority.

Then again, compared to my nine-d011ar canvas tote, her Hermès bag was practically in heaven.

I was just about to speak when a laugh cvt me off.

Nick reached out and patted her head, his smile indulgent. "It's fine. You didn't say anything wrong. There's no need to apologize."

Then he glanced at me through the rearview mirror, sounding casual yet unmistakably deliberate. "Poor people care the most about saving face. You're so blunt. Aren't you worried someone at work might make things difficult for you tomorrow?"

The words were directed at Giselle, but every syllable was meant for me.

What sounded like an offhand comment was, in truth, n@ked favoritism laced with a quiet warning.

I pretended not to hear him and turned to look out the window.

During the three years I had been Nick's bedmate, I had heard variations of that sentence countless times.

Those people said I was not good enough for him. And I agreed.

The gap between Nick and me was too wide.

He was the future Alpha of the Bluemoon Pack, heir to the most powerful and wealthiest group under the Bluemoon Pack's name.

He was not just rich. He stood at the center of power.

And I was nothing more than an ordinary pack member.

A nobody.

From the very beginning, Nick had been clear.

"Avery, you can be my bedmate, but you will never be my Luna."

I knew. I had always known. I guarded my heart carefully and never crossed the line.

Yet when emotions ran high, I still wavered. I wanted to try just once, to fight for it.

What if it worked?

So, as shifting night drew near, I was the one who asked Nick out.

That day, he came to pick me up early.

The car stopped in a secluded corner. Soon, the vehicle r0cked violently.

My underw//ear was pushed aside.

I was forced to tu//rn over, sunlight filtering through the mottled shadows of plane trees outside the window, st@bbing into my eyes until I could barely keep them open.

An hour later, Nick lounged back lazily.

His white shirt was slightly damp, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead.

The window was half open.

Cold air rushed in, scattering the pale mist of his breath.

I looked at him and slowly asked the question that had been weighing on my chest.

"Nick, do you love me?"

More than asking whether he would make me his Luna, I cared about one thing only.

Had he ever loved me?

He looked at me, the usual mockery in his eyes replaced by a rare seriousness.

"We're about to get our wolves."

In that instant, I understood exactly what he meant.

We were about to get our wolves, about to find our fated mates.

This arrangement had reached its end.

And even if I were his fated mate, he still would not love me.

He rejected me, right after we s1ept together.

The car stopped in front of the kindergarten. I pushed the door open and stepped out.

Isabel, standing at the entrance holding her teacher's hand, spotted me and waved excitedly.

I hurried over, thanked the teacher, then lowered my head to Isabel.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Mommy is late today."

"Did you wait a long time?"

Isabel tilted her little face up and pointed with her finger.

"Is it because of that Alpha that you're late?"

I froze and followed the direction of her finger.

Nick was standing behind me. I had no idea when he got there.

The roguish ease he usually wore was gone, replaced with a solemn expression.

And a flicker of something else.

Joy?

I stiffened, instinctively tightening my grip on Isabel's hand.

He stepped forward and slowly crouched down in front of her, studying her obedient, adorable face.

Nick's normally cold voice softened. "How old are you? What's your name?"

I said nothing. I did not stop him.

After three years together, I knew him well enough.

If he did not see it with his own eyes, he would never believe a word I said.

I looked at Isabel gently and gave her small hand a subtle squeeze.

Do not tell the truth.

Lie to him.

Would she understand my hint?

Chapter 4

Isabel understood immediately.

"My name is Isabella Whitlock. I'm three years old."

I let out a quiet breath of relief.

Nick stared at the familiar brows and eyes that resembled his own by at least seventy percent.

The joy of a man seeing his child for the first time barely had time to surface before Isabel's words doused it completely.

The words caught in his thr0at. For a long moment, he could not make a sound.

Isabel had been born prematurely.

I had also been ma1nourished during my pregn@ncy, which left her thinner and weaker than other children her age.

Besides, for a child that young, age was not always easy to judge.

After Nick rejected me, I said goodbye to my parents and left the pack alone.

Because a she-wolf rejected by an Alpha had no choice but to leave the pack.

On the train to Frostland, I blocked him on every social platform. He did not try to contact me either.

We were like two intertwined lines.

No matter how tightly they once wrapped around each other, the moment tension set in, they snapped back to their original paths.

For five years in the same town, I was not without fantasies.

I wondered if one day, at a certain corner or crossing, that familiar car might pass by me again.

It never did.

We had always been moving along different tracks, each with our own rhythm and destination.

Even under the same sky, we were worlds apart.

That night, after we got home, Isabel tugged at my clothes, her face full of confusion.

"Mommy, I'm clearly four years old. Why did you make me lie?"

Yes.

Why did I teach my daughter to lie?

Maybe because I did not want to invite trouble.

After settling in town, I discovered I was pregn@nt.

I had considered getting rid of the child.

But when I actually lay on the table, I hesitated.

That lingering sense of unwillingness filled my mind.

I admitted it. I was not ready to let go.

I thought that even if we could not be together, having a child connected to him by b100d might be enough.

So I gave birth to the child alone.

And the moment I truly held that tiny child in my arms, I felt overwhelming relief at my decision.

She was my daughter.

Half of her b100d was mine. She belonged to no one else. She deserved to see this world.

…

After putting Isabel to bed, I received a call from the head of Human Resources, informing me that I did not need to come to work the next day.

I frowned. "Whose decision was this?"

The other end hesitated and clearly had no intention of answering.

I did not press further. A day earlier or later made no difference to me.

After leaving my job, I did not look for another one.

Instead, I opened a children's clothing studio.

With the editing skills I had painstakingly taught myself, I gradually built a small following.

Between scattered custom orders and the occasional advertisement, making a living was not a problem. I even managed to save a little.

I thought quitting my job meant distancing myself from Nick once again.

Then there was a sudden, urgent knock on the door.

I opened it to find Nick standing outside, his face dark with anger.

He held up a document labeled Paternity Test and said, "Explain."

I tried to close the door, but he shoved it open and forced his way inside.

The already cramped living room, cluttered with belongings, felt even tighter with his presence.

I poured myself a glass of water, my gaze calm.

"Explain what?"

"How I got pregn@nt? Why I gave birth to Isabel? Or why I lied to you and said she wasn't yours?"

“Explain,” my ex-mate—and current boss—demanded, holding up the patern1ty test.

“Which part?” I asked calmly.

“The pregn@ncy? The birth? Or the lie that kept us both alive?”

He stormed into my tiny apartment, fury swallowing the space.

I met his eyes.

“You rejected me. Remember?” I said softly.

“Right after you found out I was your mate. After three years of being your fwb.”

His jaw clenched.

“You never wanted me,” I continued. “So why do you want my child now?”

I pushed him toward the door, ready to shut it.

He stopped it with his hand.

“What if,” he whispered, voice cracking,

“I regretted it?”

The day we got our wolves, Nick and I s1ept together one last time.

A breakup fk.

Afterward, he handed me a cig@re//tte with practiced ease and chuckled.

"My future Luna," he said lightly, "would never be a she-wolf who sm0kes after sx."

My throat tightened. I asked him why.

He answered calmly, almost gently.

"Avery, only a pure, flawless she-wolf can stand beside me as my Luna."

I stayed silent for a long time. Then I cvt off all contact with him and left his pack.

When we met again, he had become my new boss.

To avoid awkwardness, I submitted my resignation proactively.

Instead, he cornered me in the CEO's office.

"It's been five years," he said, blocking my way. "How about another round?"

I lowered my gaze.

"No. I need to pick up my child from school."

The air went still.

Nick froze.

I tried to stand up from his lap, but his grip tightened, pinning me in place.

The heat in his eyes dimmed. A faint crack appeared in his usual calm, controlled expression.

Grinding his teeth, he asked, "How old is your child?"

I said nothing at first. Then, quietly, "Three."

Three.

Not four.

And it had been five years since the night he rejected me.

That child was not his.

Nick clearly understood that.

I tried to stand again. This time, the large hand at my wa1st did not stop me.

As I reached the door, he spoke again, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"I remember your personnel file says you never married."

I paused, steadied myself, and turned back calmly.

"I signed a bond-sealing deal not long ago."

"Just signed," he said slowly, "and your child is already three?"

I nodded, completely composed.

"Yes. We had the child before mate-bonding."

He did not respond.

His sharp gaze dropped to the cheap bonding ring on my finger, and he let out a scoffing laugh.

I did not feel embarrassed at all.

I held my hand up openly, almost shoving it in his face.

The moment I sensed his temper flaring, I turned and fled.

That night, back home, I let out a long breath.

Sometimes, lies were the most effective way to deal with unknown trouble.

I had bought the ring yesterday at a small shop.

Cheap and practical.

I figured it was more than enough to erase whatever lingering affection Nick still had for me.

Sure enough, my resignation was approved the very next day.

HR personally came by in the afternoon to inform me that as long as I finished handover within a week, I could leave.

Normally, resignations took a month.

Needing only one week made it obvious whose decision it was.

I nodded and began transferring my workload to the intern.

The new intern, Giselle, was sweet and enthusiastic.

At the very least, while I was training her, I never paid for breakfast or afternoon coffee herself.

As the workday neared its end, Giselle suddenly spoke up shyly.

"Avery, can I leave a bit early tonight? My boyfriend asked me out to dinner."

I hesitated.

Not because I could not let her go, but because I also needed to leave early to pick up Isabel.

Seeing me silent for too long, she grew anxious, clasping her hands together and showering me with pleas.

I could not help but laugh.

"It's fine. Go ahead."

She thanked me excitedly and began packing.

"My boyfriend's coming down now."

I blinked.

"He works here too?"

Giselle smiled mysteriously.

"No, he's actually…"

Before she could finish, a low, familiar voice cvt in.

"Ready?"

Chapter 2

My body stiffened for a split second.

If this were a voice I had never heard before, I probably would have looked up out of curiosity.

Unfortunately, this voice had haunted my nightmares for five full years.

On countless nights when sleep only came with medication, his words echoed in my ears over and over again.

"Avery, you're too well-behaved. I'll corrupt you."

Under that gentle coaxing, I fell.

And I learned how to sm//0ke.

At first, because Nick was the pack's future Alpha, I kept my distance.

But that night at the party, we got recklessly drunk.

Somewhere along the way, we ended up s1eeping together. Just friends with ben//efits.

We never defined our relationship. He simply stayed by my side.

I still remembered one evening clearly.

He had just finished a date with another she-wolf and driven her home. His car was parked outside her house.

I stepped outside in a coat to take out the trash and knocked on his car window.

"I saw it," I said, hands in my pockets, pretending not to care.

"I think we should end whatever this is."

I hoped he would agree, because I was exhausted by the endless she-wolves around him.

But I also hoped he would refuse, because I was already in love with him.

At that moment, even the wind seemed to slow, like a movie paused mid-frame.

I waited quietly for his answer.

Nick turned his head toward me.

His blue eyes were unfathomably deep, dangerously alluring.

A trace of indulgent amusement appeared on his face.

"We're not some casual thing."

Back then, I was drowning in his gaze.

I did not understand the meaning behind his words.

I only thought he wanted us to become something more.

Until the day we got our wolves.

Until we discovered we were fated mates.

That was the last time we saw each other.

After a night of p@ssion, he handed me a cig@re//tte again.

"My Luna," he said, "will never be a she-wolf who sm//0kes after sx."

I forced down the sob rising in my thr0at and asked him why.

Nick smiled.

"Avery, my Luna must be a pure, perfect good girl."

Tears blurred my vision. I forgot how to breathe.

Good girl.

He liked pure, flawless good girls.

Yet once upon a time, he had told me I was too innocent, too well-behaved, that he did not know how to touch me.

Only now did I finally understand what he meant.

Once I was no longer well-behaved, I became something disp0sab1e. Something fun.

"Avery?"

I snapped out of my thoughts, my expression returning to calm neutrality.

Giselle spun around excitedly, grabbed her bag, and jogged over. Then she suddenly looked back at me.

"Avery, aren't you also rushing to pick up your daughter Isabel? We can give you a ride."

I was about to refuse when Nick walked straight over, picked up the bag I had left on my desk, and headed for the parking lot without giving me a chance to object.

The atmosphere inside the car was unnervingly quiet, broken only by Giselle's occasional chatter.

Nick tapped the steering wheel casually, responding to her in a flat tone.

His gaze drifted toward me again and again.

Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Giselle tried to make conversation.

"Avery, when you work late, does your mate usually pick up your child?"

Hearing the word "mate" caught me off guard.

I froze for a moment, then shook my head and made something up.

"He works out of town. He's not home much."

She gave me a knowing look, her eyes drifting pointedly to the ring I'd bought a few days ago.

"Is that your bonding ring? It looks kind of faded."

Chapter 3

"Like something off a Wa1mart clearance rack."

She stuck out her tongue, looking embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. Don't get me wrong."

Giselle seemed to realize she had misspoken and turned toward me to apologize.

Still, I caught the trace of disdain hidden in her eyes, along with an inexplicable sense of superiority.

Then again, compared to my nine-d011ar canvas tote, her Hermès bag was practically in heaven.

I was just about to speak when a laugh cvt me off.

Nick reached out and patted her head, his smile indulgent. "It's fine. You didn't say anything wrong. There's no need to apologize."

Then he glanced at me through the rearview mirror, sounding casual yet unmistakably deliberate. "Poor people care the most about saving face. You're so blunt. Aren't you worried someone at work might make things difficult for you tomorrow?"

The words were directed at Giselle, but every syllable was meant for me.

What sounded like an offhand comment was, in truth, n@ked favoritism laced with a quiet warning.

I pretended not to hear him and turned to look out the window.

During the three years I had been Nick's bedmate, I had heard variations of that sentence countless times.

Those people said I was not good enough for him. And I agreed.

The gap between Nick and me was too wide.

He was the future Alpha of the Bluemoon Pack, heir to the most powerful and wealthiest group under the Bluemoon Pack's name.

He was not just rich. He stood at the center of power.

And I was nothing more than an ordinary pack member.

A nobody.

From the very beginning, Nick had been clear.

"Avery, you can be my bedmate, but you will never be my Luna."

I knew. I had always known. I guarded my heart carefully and never crossed the line.

Yet when emotions ran high, I still wavered. I wanted to try just once, to fight for it.

What if it worked?

So, as shifting night drew near, I was the one who asked Nick out.

That day, he came to pick me up early.

The car stopped in a secluded corner. Soon, the vehicle r0cked violently.

My underw//ear was pushed aside.

I was forced to tu//rn over, sunlight filtering through the mottled shadows of plane trees outside the window, st@bbing into my eyes until I could barely keep them open.

An hour later, Nick lounged back lazily.

His white shirt was slightly damp, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead.

The window was half open.

Cold air rushed in, scattering the pale mist of his breath.

I looked at him and slowly asked the question that had been weighing on my chest.

"Nick, do you love me?"

More than asking whether he would make me his Luna, I cared about one thing only.

Had he ever loved me?

He looked at me, the usual mockery in his eyes replaced by a rare seriousness.

"We're about to get our wolves."

In that instant, I understood exactly what he meant.

We were about to get our wolves, about to find our fated mates.

This arrangement had reached its end.

And even if I were his fated mate, he still would not love me.

He rejected me, right after we s1ept together.

The car stopped in front of the kindergarten. I pushed the door open and stepped out.

Isabel, standing at the entrance holding her teacher's hand, spotted me and waved excitedly.

I hurried over, thanked the teacher, then lowered my head to Isabel.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Mommy is late today."

"Did you wait a long time?"

Isabel tilted her little face up and pointed with her finger.

"Is it because of that Alpha that you're late?"

I froze and followed the direction of her finger.

Nick was standing behind me. I had no idea when he got there.

The roguish ease he usually wore was gone, replaced with a solemn expression.

And a flicker of something else.

Joy?

I stiffened, instinctively tightening my grip on Isabel's hand.

He stepped forward and slowly crouched down in front of her, studying her obedient, adorable face.

Nick's normally cold voice softened. "How old are you? What's your name?"

I said nothing. I did not stop him.

After three years together, I knew him well enough.

If he did not see it with his own eyes, he would never believe a word I said.

I looked at Isabel gently and gave her small hand a subtle squeeze.

Do not tell the truth.

Lie to him.

Would she understand my hint?

Chapter 4

Isabel understood immediately.

"My name is Isabella Whitlock. I'm three years old."

I let out a quiet breath of relief.

Nick stared at the familiar brows and eyes that resembled his own by at least seventy percent.

The joy of a man seeing his child for the first time barely had time to surface before Isabel's words doused it completely.

The words caught in his thr0at. For a long moment, he could not make a sound.

Isabel had been born prematurely.

I had also been ma1nourished during my pregn@ncy, which left her thinner and weaker than other children her age.

Besides, for a child that young, age was not always easy to judge.

After Nick rejected me, I said goodbye to my parents and left the pack alone.

Because a she-wolf rejected by an Alpha had no choice but to leave the pack.

On the train to Frostland, I blocked him on every social platform. He did not try to contact me either.

We were like two intertwined lines.

No matter how tightly they once wrapped around each other, the moment tension set in, they snapped back to their original paths.

For five years in the same town, I was not without fantasies.

I wondered if one day, at a certain corner or crossing, that familiar car might pass by me again.

It never did.

We had always been moving along different tracks, each with our own rhythm and destination.

Even under the same sky, we were worlds apart.

That night, after we got home, Isabel tugged at my clothes, her face full of confusion.

"Mommy, I'm clearly four years old. Why did you make me lie?"

Yes.

Why did I teach my daughter to lie?

Maybe because I did not want to invite trouble.

After settling in town, I discovered I was pregn@nt.

I had considered getting rid of the child.

But when I actually lay on the table, I hesitated.

That lingering sense of unwillingness filled my mind.

I admitted it. I was not ready to let go.

I thought that even if we could not be together, having a child connected to him by b100d might be enough.

So I gave birth to the child alone.

And the moment I truly held that tiny child in my arms, I felt overwhelming relief at my decision.

She was my daughter.

Half of her b100d was mine. She belonged to no one else. She deserved to see this world.

…

After putting Isabel to bed, I received a call from the head of Human Resources, informing me that I did not need to come to work the next day.

I frowned. "Whose decision was this?"

The other end hesitated and clearly had no intention of answering.

I did not press further. A day earlier or later made no difference to me.

After leaving my job, I did not look for another one.

Instead, I opened a children's clothing studio.

With the editing skills I had painstakingly taught myself, I gradually built a small following.

Between scattered custom orders and the occasional advertisement, making a living was not a problem. I even managed to save a little.

I thought quitting my job meant distancing myself from Nick once again.

Then there was a sudden, urgent knock on the door.

I opened it to find Nick standing outside, his face dark with anger.

He held up a document labeled Paternity Test and said, "Explain."

I tried to close the door, but he shoved it open and forced his way inside.

The already cramped living room, cluttered with belongings, felt even tighter with his presence.

I poured myself a glass of water, my gaze calm.

"Explain what?"

"How I got pregn@nt? Why I gave birth to Isabel? Or why I lied to you and said she wasn't yours?"