I froze—there in the arcade was my husband, Hayden Blackwood, kneeling to tie a pink-haired girl’s shoelaces. The ruthless CEO now cradled her ankle as she kicked impatiently, his face full of submission. His friends laughed. "Damn, Mr. Blackwood looks hot kneeling! Princess Gigi trained him well!" I fled. At home, Hayden winced as I scrubbed off his tattoo: [Gigi’s Dog]—with a streak of pink dye matching her hair. "You’ve heard the rumors," he said coldly. "I’m pursuing her. Track me again, and you won’t remain Mrs. Blackwood long." My phone buzzed. A girlish voice chirped: "Aunty, don’t worry—a 37-year-old geezer isn’t my type anyway." 1 The call ended with a peel of silvery laughter. I finally looked in the bathroom mirror and saw the tear tracks that had carved their way down my face. My assistant sent over the girl’s profile. Gigi Li, 19 years old. A middle-school dropout who smoked, drank, and got into fights. Besides a pretty face, the only thing she had going for her was her family background—a fact I wasn’t sure Hayden was even aware of. “Vivienne, does your husband have a sister? What’s with those pictures from the arcade?” My best friend, Summer, texted me a link. The photo was a crystal-clear shot of Hayden on one knee, tying Gigi’s shoelaces. The comments section had already exploded. [Isn’t that the CEO of Blackwood Industries? I thought he was an only child. How could he suddenly have a sister who hasn’t even graduated college?] [He’s obviously cheating. Mrs. Blackwood is, what, thirty-five? What man doesn’t prefer someone younger? I just didn’t expect Mr. Blackwood’s taste to be so… unique. He passed on all those high-society debutantes for an e-girl.] [Wow. So fifteen years as a model couple can’t compete with a little novelty?] I scrolled mechanically, each comment a needle in my heart. Fifteen years. From meeting in college to a strategic marriage that merged our family empires, everyone said we were a rare case of true love in the world of high society. How ironic it all seemed now. The next morning, just as I had for the past six years, I woke up at six on the dot to make breakfast. Hayden walked into the dining room as I was pouring his coffee. He glanced at the table and then, without warning, swept his arm across it, sending the plate crashing to the floor. Scalding coffee splashed onto the back of my hand. I flinched, my skin instantly turning red, a searing pain shooting straight to my heart. “Ah!” I bit down hard on my lip, my years of training in composure preventing me from crying out again. “Ten years. Every single day, it’s the same thing.” Hayden’s voice was as cold as ice. “Scrambled eggs and toast, black coffee. Even the placement on the plate has never changed.” I stared at my burned hand as he continued. “Look at you. You’re always like this.” “The same boring business suit, the same severe bun. Even your expression looks like it’s been measured and set.” He stepped closer, reaching out to pull my hair free from its bun. “Not a single strand out of place. You’re more of a doll than a person.” My hair fell around my face. I looked up at him. “Isn’t that what a socialite is supposed to be?” “Ha!” He laughed, a short, sharp sound. “That’s why I can’t stand it! Gigi cries, she laughs, she yells when she’s hurt, she jumps for joy when she’s happy. And you? You get burned like that and you don’t even make a sound. Are you a person or a machine?” I slowly knelt, picking up the broken shards of porcelain one by one. In that moment, I decided this sham of a marriage was over. But I needed to end it with dignity, not like this. “Vivienne, can’t you even argue?” I remained calm. “Miss Lee posted a video of you two drinking on her social media yesterday. She was quite impressive, chugging straight from the bottle.” A flicker of pride crossed Hayden’s face. “She’s real.” “Is she?” I honestly thought Hayden had lost his mind. At the charity gala, I had stood in heels for five hours, networking with every guest on his behalf, not even daring to drink too much water, all to maintain our perfect image. When a key partner backed out at the last minute, I led my team through three all-nighters to create a new proposal. The stress gave me stomach cramps so bad I was drenched in cold sweat, but I just popped a painkiller and kept working. And now. He thought some little girl who chugged beers at a club and threw tantrums could fill the role of the lady of the Blackwood estate? Had he been blinded by love, or did he simply believe that Blackwood Industries was now so powerful it no longer needed a composed, capable woman at its helm? 2 I watched him drive away. A moment later, a notification popped up on my phone. Hayden had just liked another post from my alternate account, “Jasmine.” I opened our chat. The last message was from him, sent late last night. Hayden: Sometimes, I feel like talking to you is the only time I’m truly alive. I’d created this account five years ago. We had just gotten married, and Hayden had stumbled upon it by chance. He’d started confiding in “Jasmine,” pouring out his thoughts and frustrations. I shut my phone off and walked into the closet. I looked at my reflection—the bespoke suit, the flawless makeup. This was the Mrs. Blackwood that Hayden needed. Poised, elegant, eternally proper. Hayden thought that in finding Gigi, he had discovered his true self. But he would never know that the person he connected with most deeply had been by his side all along. Just then, a man who had been a silent contact in my phone for years sent me a message, asking to meet. I stared at the name “Leo Lee” for a full ten minutes before typing out a single word: “Okay.” I met Leo at his racing club. Before I could even speak, he pulled out his phone, the screen displaying my “Jasmine” account. “So, Miss Spencer is even more beautiful in person. I have to admit, I’m a fan.” We’d seen each other countless times at galas and business meetings. “Let’s skip the pleasantries. You asked me here for a reason.” He snapped his fingers. “Want to try something really exciting?” Half an hour later, I was strapped into the passenger seat as Leo handled the wheel with one hand. The roar of the wind was almost louder than the engine. I clung to the seat, but as we took the most treacherous curve, a laugh escaped my lips. Leo shot me a surprised glance, then started laughing too. “Now I believe you’re the Jasmine from the internet.” It was late when I got home. The light in the foyer was on. Hayden was standing at the top of the stairs, his eyes fixed on the grease stain on my racing suit. A sarcastic smile twisted his lips. “Trying to be like Gigi now, playing race car driver?” I placed the pack of cigarettes I’d bought on the coffee table. The metal case made a sharp, clean sound. Hayden’s expression changed instantly. “A clumsy imitation.” He used an idiom I’d always hated. I calmly unzipped the racing suit. “If you feel I’m no longer suitable to be your wife, we can discuss a divorce.” He froze, then let out a sharp, derisive laugh. “Vivienne, can you afford the humiliation? Isn’t the title of Mrs. Blackwood what you’ve always dreamed of?” He was right. I had dreamed of it. My father had said the Blackwoods were out of our league, but I had knelt in the rain for three hours until my mother agreed to try and arrange a meeting. The night before our engagement, Hayden’s own mother had warned me that the Blackwood family didn’t need a daughter-in-law; they needed a beautiful, capable ornament who could manage their public life. She had asked me if I could be eternally proper, if I could promise to never embarrass Hayden. Looking back, her careful planning had been utterly destroyed by her own son. “You’re the one who cares about the title,” I said, finally letting a small smile show. “Hayden, you’ve always been the one obsessed with appearances.” Without me, who else in our circle was a more suitable match? Back in my room, a message from Leo was waiting. “Sorry, Vivienne. I just found out about my sister and your husband.” I knew it was a polite excuse. He had asked me out today for two reasons: one, because of “Jasmine,” and two, because of his sister. I replied curtly: “See you at the jewelry gala.” That night, Hayden found “Jasmine” online and immediately started complaining. “My wife is being so unreasonable! She’s trying to get my attention by copying Gigi and going racing!” I let out a cold laugh and deleted the message. The next morning, the kitchen was silent. When Hayden came downstairs, the dining table was bare. No warm milk, no sandwich. “Where’s breakfast?” he asked, frowning. I was sitting on the sofa, reviewing the program for the jewelry gala. I didn’t look up. “Don’t you have hands?” He was taken aback for a moment, then sneered. “Copying Gigi again? How much have you been investigating her? Do you really think acting out like this will get my attention?” The memory of his message to “Jasmine” made my blood boil. The idiot actually thought I would imitate that little punk? I looked up at him, my voice dripping with a sarcasm I had never used with him before. “You’re overthinking it, Mr. Blackwood. I’ve just realized that serving a blind man is incredibly boring.” His face darkened instantly. “Vivienne, have you been getting a little too bold lately?” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I stood up and headed upstairs. Hayden followed, grabbing my shoulder. “Vivienne, I’m warning you, stay away from Gigi.” I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. He shoved me, and I stumbled backward, my foot missing a step. Thump! I tumbled down the stairs. A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. I curled into a ball on the floor, a cold sweat instantly soaking my back. 3 Hayden stood at the top of the stairs, a flicker of panic in his eyes that was quickly replaced by cold indifference. “Stop pretending. It was only four steps. Are you trying to act like you’re dying?” I bit my lip, saying nothing, as I felt a warm trickle between my legs. “Hospital… take me to the hospital.” The pain was so intense I could barely form a sentence. Hayden’s expression finally changed. He scooped me up and rushed toward the door, but his phone rang halfway there. “Gigi’s in a holding cell? Okay, I’m on my way.” He dumped me at the hospital entrance, told a nurse, “She took a fall,” and then turned and left. In the emergency room, the doctor took off his mask. “It was a threatened miscarriage. We’ve managed to save the baby, for now.” Lying in the hospital bed, staring at the white ceiling, I started to laugh. Hayden would never know what he had thrown away today. I forced myself to get up and go to the jewelry gala. The suit I had personally ironed for Hayden was now folded neatly under Gigi’s bare legs. She was holding a bowl of spicy noodle soup, the red broth filled with cilantro—the one herb he despised. Love really does make you tolerant. “Vivienne! You must be Hayden’s wife, right?” “Come eat with us!” Gigi waved at me, her pink sequin dress glittering under the lights. I only then noticed that her dress was the exact same shade as Hayden’s tie. As I walked over, the guests around us started whispering. “Why aren’t you angry?” Gigi asked, stirring the noodles in her bowl. “If I were you, I’d have dumped this soup on his head by now.” I smiled. “Why would I be angry?” “Because I’m stealing your husband!” she said, her voice loud enough to make the woman at the next table nearly choke on her wine. “Do you like him?” I asked. Gigi wrinkled her nose. “Of course not. He’s old and boring. Not my type at all.” “Then why accept his gifts? Why wear a dress that matches his tie?” I looked at the red oil stain on Hayden’s cuff. “Why let him tie your shoes in public, and break all his rules for you?” Gigi stopped chewing. She stared at me, dumbfounded, for several seconds. Then, she slammed her chopsticks down and pulled out her phone. “Mr. Blackwood, I’m transferring you the money for everything you’ve given me!” Not long after she sent the voice message, Hayden appeared, tugging at his tie. He looked anxious, his usual cool demeanor completely gone. The moment he saw me sitting next to Gigi, his face hardened. “What did you say to her?” “Vivienne, are you using a little girl to fight your battles for you?” Gigi jumped up, pulling at his hand. “Hey, you’re hurting her!” “Mr. Blackwood, I figured it out myself! It has nothing to do with her!” She took out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. “The bags, the necklaces, all the other stuff you’ve given me these past two months—I’m cashing it all out and sending it back to you!” Hayden grabbed her arm. “Gigi, you don’t have to do this. I’m serious about you.” “Don’t call me that!” Gigi stood up, her pink hair bouncing. “Do you know how pathetic this is? You have such an amazing wife at home—she’s beautiful and kind—and you’re chasing after me?” Her voice grew louder, echoing through the ballroom. “You had me use your knee as a stepping stool to get into your car, you tied my shoes in public, and now you have me wearing this dress to piss off your wife? Mr. Blackwood, are you some kind of a freak?” The entire room fell silent. Hayden’s face turned a shade of gray. He whipped his head toward me. “Did you teach her to say that?” Before I could answer, Gigi stepped in front of me. “Hey! Who are you yelling at? I told you, I figured it out myself!” 4 “Anyway, you’re not allowed to come near me again. If you do, I’m leaving this place and never coming back!” I thanked Gigi. I hadn’t expected my supposed rival to be quite so… unpredictable. Just then, my phone buzzed in my purse. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen. “Miss Spencer, your aunt collapsed. She’s in emergency surgery right now…” The blood in my veins turned to ice. “I’m on my way.” I hung up and scanned the room for Hayden, but only saw Leo standing nearby. I walked over quickly. “Tell Hayden my aunt is in critical condition and I have to go. Please try to keep things under control here.” With that, I turned and ran for the exit. But at that moment, Gigi was walking toward me with a glass of champagne. We collided hard. The champagne tower next to us came crashing down. Gigi fell into a sea of broken glass. “Ah!” she cried out, her face pale with pain. Shards of glass were embedded in her arm. Hayden appeared out of nowhere and shoved me. “Vivienne! Are you insane?” I stumbled back, my back hitting a wall of people. Gigi tried to stand, but fell back down. Her calf was also bleeding from several deep cuts. Hayden knelt to check her injuries, roaring at me without even looking up. “Apologize! Now!” “I never knew you were such a vicious, cold-hearted woman! She was already planning to cut ties with me, what more do you want?” The ballroom was dead silent. Every eye was on us. “You wanted to leave? Fine. You can go after you finish this bottle as an apology.” I took a deep breath and picked up an unopened bottle of red wine. The harsh liquid burned my throat, but I didn’t spill a drop. After the last swallow, I slammed the empty bottle down on the table, my expression unreadable as I met Hayden’s gaze. “Is that sufficient?” I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Leo’s voice. “Hayden, you’re going to regret this.” “Regret what?” Hayden sneered. “Do you know who she is? She’s Jasmine.” The closing doors cut off the rest of his words. I walked briskly to the elevator, my stomach churning, but my steps were steady. Inside the ballroom, Hayden was still reeling from the shock when Gigi suddenly pointed at the floor. “Blood! There’s blood here!” On the polished floor, where I had just been standing, were several drops of crimson. Gigi shoved Hayden hard. “Go after her! She drank all that wine!” Hayden spun around and sprinted for the door, but Gigi called him back. “Wait!” She pointed at the floor again. “The blood… I think it dripped from the hem of her dress…” The three of them froze. “Is she…”
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