After my divorce, I washed off my ugly makeup and posted a bare-faced selfie online, jokingly asking for a date. The post broke the internet, hitting number one on trending. Countless people flooded my comment section. [Is this level of gorgeous even real? Not even AI could render a face this perfect.] [Look at me! 6'2", college athlete. I'm not a creep, I just genuinely want to give this goddess a home.] [Oh my god, I wouldn't even dare to dream of looking like this. You must have been sculpted by the gods themselves!] In a flash, the photo went incredibly viral. A-list actors, wealthy heirs, and Wall Street elites all started reaching out, trying to court me. Even my ex-husband, Connor Sterling, had his phone blown up by his buddies. One of his fellow officers complained, "Commander, if I’d known my sister-in-law was this breathtaking, you should have left her for one of your brothers in arms!" Connor violently crushed the whiskey glass in his hand, his eyes bloodshot, and sped all the way back to our house to find me. But in the home we once shared, there was no longer a single trace of me. I remembered what my mother told me on her deathbed three years ago: "For a girl without power, having only beauty is a disaster." From that day on, I wore thick, black-rimmed glasses, applied dark, dull foundation, and intentionally made myself look as unattractive as possible. My father arranged countless blind dates for me, and every single man ran for the hills because of my looks. Only Connor Sterling never showed a hint of disgust. He ignored the strange, mocking looks from everyone around us and proposed to me. Everyone said I married completely out of my league. They said that with my hideous face, marrying into the prestigious Sterling family was a stroke of miraculous luck. I believed them. I thought he didn't care about appearances. I thought he loved my soul. That was, until the joint tactical exercise on the border went wrong, and an out-of-control armored vehicle barreled toward me. Connor shoved me out of the way, taking the brunt of the explosive shockwave himself. He was critically injured and fell into a coma. I stumbled and crawled my way to the base hospital, only to freeze outside his room when I heard his mother’s furious voice through the cracked door: "Connor, you brought home a hideous wife and made us the laughingstock of the entire base! And now you dare to risk your life to protect her? How long are you going to keep up this rebellious phase?!" There was a moment of silence inside before Connor’s calm, steady voice replied: "Mom, you know exactly what I want." "I know this is all for Serena!" Mrs. Sterling’s voice trembled. "She was just a performer in the military PR division, and her family is ruined! She could never marry into the Sterling family! Marrying Avery just to spite us won't change a thing!" I leaned against the freezing hospital wall, my entire body going numb. Serena... who was Serena? With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and texted a friend in military intelligence: [Run a background check on Connor Sterling and Serena Vance.] The file came through quickly. Serena Vance. Lead dancer for the military's public relations and performance troupe. Connor’s first love. They were the golden couple in everyone's eyes, childhood sweethearts, a match made in heaven. Three years ago, when they were discussing marriage, Serena’s father was investigated for severe financial fraud. Fearing the scandal would taint their reputation, the Sterling family vehemently opposed the marriage. Connor fought for her, so his family pulled strings to have Serena deployed to a remote, desolate base. The two ultimately broke up. After that, Connor went on a string of blind dates, brushing off every single woman. Until he met me—the intentionally ugly girl—at a military mixer. It turned out that he chose me simply to rebel against his family. To force them into accepting Serena. I looked down at the glowing screen and suddenly let out a broken laugh. My mother was terrified that I would be deceived because of my beauty. But as an ugly girl, I was deceived all the same. And the deception was even more absurd, even more thorough. For the past three years, he tied my shoelaces, stood guard with me in the cold, and remembered every casual remark I made... It was all just a show. A performance staged for the Sterling family. I wiped away my tears and dialed Mrs. Sterling’s number. "I want a divorce from Connor." "What?" Mrs. Sterling sounded utterly shocked. "Avery, with that ghastly face of yours, who else would ever want you if you leave the Sterling family?" "What I look like is none of your concern. This divorce is happening." "If the Sterling family refuses, I’ll file a formal complaint with the JAG and the base commander. If this blows up, it’ll look bad for everyone." The line went dead silent for a long time. Finally, a cold, hard voice replied: "Fine. I will handle the divorce paperwork." I hung up, immediately discharged myself from the hospital, and headed straight back to the officer's estate. The moment I walked through the door, I started packing. The velvet box holding his commendation medals, the custom tactical watch he bought me, and even the simple silver band that symbolized our marriage... I threw all of it into the trash. Like throwing away a three-year-long fever dream. A few days later, Connor was discharged from the hospital and returned home. His voice still carried the raspy grit from his injuries, but his tone was as gentle as ever: "Tonight is your birthday. I booked a table at the Officer's Club. It’s still early, so let me take you to pick out a formal dress first, alright?" "Alright," I answered softly. He drove me to a high-end luxury boutique downtown. As soon as we walked in, his phone rang. "Look around first. I have to take this," he said. I nodded and walked alone toward the racks of designer clothing. My eyes landed on a light khaki, belted dress. The style was minimalist, the fabric crisp and structured. "Could you grab this one for me?" I asked the sales associate. "I'll take that one." A clear, bright female voice rang out from behind me. I turned around and saw the face from the intelligence file. It was Serena. She was even more radiant in person. Even wearing casual clothes, her posture was impeccably straight and elegant. "Excuse me," Serena stepped forward, her tone polite but yielding no ground. "I had my eye on this piece as well. Even though you were here first..." Her gaze swept over my thick black-rimmed glasses and my baggy, faded cargo pants. She smiled faintly. "I just feel it suits my vibe better. Would you mind letting me have it?" "I mind," I said, turning back to the clerk. "Wrap it up for me." Serena reached out and grabbed the hanger, holding it firmly. "Miss, clothes are all about who wears them. You usually wear tactical gear; buying a dress like this is a waste. Why not just let me have it?" We both held onto the dress, neither willing to let go. "What's going on?" Connor's voice drifted over from the staircase. He had finished his call and was walking up. Seeing the standoff, his brow twitched slightly. Serena's eyes lit up instantly. Her hand still gripped the hanger. "Connor! What a coincidence." Her gaze bounced between me and Connor, and then she put on a look of sudden realization. "Oh, so this is your wife. If you had just said you were the Commander's family, I wouldn't have fought you for it. Let Mrs. Sterling have the dress." She let go. But in the very next second, Connor took the dress from my hands and handed it directly to Serena. "You don't need to yield," he told Serena, his voice noticeably softer. "It should fit you perfectly. Go try it on." A flash of triumph crossed Serena’s eyes as she took the dress and walked into the fitting room. Connor finally turned to look at me. "Avery, that's Serena. An old comrade from the PR division. She’s blunt, but she doesn't mean any harm. It's just a piece of clothing. There's no need to fight over it. We'll pick something else." I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat, turned to another rack, and casually grabbed a plain, dark blue dress. Just then, the fitting room door opened, and Serena stepped out. The light khaki dress hugged her figure perfectly, complementing her pale skin. She looked sharp, elegant, and radiant. The sales associate whispered in awe, "Ms. Vance, you look absolutely stunning." Connor's eyes were fixed on her as well. "Connor, how does it look?" Serena asked with a smile, her gaze casually drifting over to where I stood. "Yeah. It looks great," Connor nodded. Serena walked up to him and naturally adjusted his shirt cuff. "Oh, by the way, I heard tonight is Mrs. Sterling's birthday." "It is," Connor replied. "I happen to have the night off from performances," Serena said, looking at me with a flawless, polite smile. "If Mrs. Sterling doesn't mind, I'd love to come and celebrate with you." I didn't say a word. Connor spoke for me: "We don't mind. Come along." Chapter 2 The banquet hall at the Officer's Club was brilliantly lit. The birthday dinner Connor threw for me was incredibly high-profile. He had invited almost all the top brass from the base. I stood next to him in my plain, dark blue dress, looking like a dusty, out-of-place prop. As the banquet began, Connor publicly handed me a velvet box. Inside was a finely crafted, honorary military insignia pin. Gasps of envy echoed through the room. "Thank you," I took it, my voice perfectly flat. Serena arrived a little late. The moment she walked in, she stole the room's attention. The khaki dress highlighted her elegant posture, and her bright smile made it seem as though she was the true center of the evening. "Sorry, rehearsal ran late," she said, walking up to me with effortless charm. "I didn't bring a gift, so I'll just play a song on the piano for Mrs. Sterling's birthday." With that, she looked at Connor. "Connor, it's been a while since we played together. Duet?" Connor glanced at me—standing there in silence—and actually stood up and walked over to the grand piano. They sat side by side on the bench. A four-hand duet, the melody flowing seamlessly. One with authoritative military epaulets, the other with flying, graceful fingertips. The picture they painted was breathtakingly harmonious. The whispers of the crowd drifted into my ears: "Now that is a woman worthy of the Commander..." "If only the Vance family hadn't fallen into disgrace..." "The current wife is just way too ugly. Seeing them stand next to each other makes me cringe..." Every word was like a tiny needle stabbing into my heart. I turned and walked out to the balcony. Footsteps followed behind me, and soon, a pair of hands gently wrapped around my shoulders. "Why did you come out here?" Connor's voice murmured in my ear. "Don't listen to what they're saying." Suddenly, the balcony doors were pushed open. Serena stood in the doorway, her face pale, a layer of tears glistening in her eyes. "Sorry to interrupt," she said, her voice trembling slightly. She turned and ran. Connor immediately dropped his arms from my shoulders. "I'll go check on her." He hurried after her. I didn't want to stay in that building for another second. Just as I reached the driveway outside the club, a figure blocked my path—it was Serena. "Leaving so early, Mrs. Sterling? Is it because Connor chased after me?" I had no desire to engage. I turned sideways to walk past her. "Wait." Serena blocked me again. "There are some things you need to know. Like the real reason Connor married you—" "Get out of my way!" She reached out and grabbed my wrist. "He doesn't even—" We struggled. Suddenly, Serena's foot slipped. With a shriek, she fell backward, dragging me down with her, causing us both to lose our balance. The screech of tires pierced the night. Agonizing pain exploded across my forehead and cheek. Warm blood instantly blurred my vision. In the chaos, all I could hear was Serena screaming. Right before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw Connor sprinting toward us. On that face that was always so irritatingly calm, I actually saw a flicker of raw panic. Then, I heard fragmented snippets of a conversation, sounding like they were coming from a million miles away. "Commander, both victims require immediate surgery, but the medevac pod only has room for one." "Your wife has a severe facial laceration. If we don't treat it now, it will permanently scar." "Ms. Vance has sustained trauma to her hand. Delaying treatment will affect her ability to play the piano." Then, I heard Connor’s voice. "Save Serena first. Her hands cannot be ruined." "But your wife..." "Her looks don't matter to her." Don't matter. Those three words crushed the very last shred of hope I had left. I sank completely into the darkness. When I woke up, I was in the base hospital. The door was pushed open, and Serena walked in, flanked by a few girls from the performance troupe. "Avery, I heard your face took quite a hit. I thought you were definitely going to be disfigured this time." "The military surgeons the Sterling family brought in are top-tier. I can't believe they managed to salvage it." "Well, they saved it, but it's still the same old ugly face." A chorus of low giggles echoed from behind her. I closed my eyes. "Get out." A girl in dance wear immediately snapped back, "What's with the attitude? Serena came to check on you out of the goodness of her heart!" I opened my eyes and glared at Serena. "Take your dogs and get the hell out of my room." "Who are you calling a dog?!" The dancer raised her hand, ready to slap me. "Brianna, don't hit a patient. It looks bad." A tall man stopped her. He turned, looked me up and down, and smirked. "Mrs. Sterling has quite the temper. But I specialize in fixing bad attitudes." He took two steps forward, looming over my hospital bed. His gaze was sticky and violating. "I've seen plenty of women like you. Ugly, but full of venom. You just need a real man to put you in your place." He suddenly reached out to rip the blankets off me. "Get away from me!" I struggled desperately. But the man pinned my shoulder down with one hand and used the other to violently tear the collar of my hospital gown, exposing my pale skin. "The face is trash, but the body ain't half bad." "Let go! Help!" I fought with everything I had, but the people around him just laughed. The dancer, Brianna, even pulled out her phone to record it. Pure desperation rushed to my head. I grabbed the heavy metal military canteen from my nightstand and smashed it as hard as I could against the man's head. "Bang!" A scream of agony mixed with the sound of impact. At that exact moment, a nurse walked in carrying a tray of medications. She shrieked: "MPs! Call the Military Police!" Chapter 3 Inside the Military Police station, Serena's group and I were separated for questioning. Serena's crew all had the exact same story: they claimed I maliciously attacked him. I insisted it was self-defense, but no one believed me— Who would believe a man was trying to sexually assault a hideous woman? Soon, Connor arrived, accompanied by an officer from the JAG (Judge Advocate General) office. The MP Chief personally briefed him: "Commander, the statements conflict. According to protocol, we need to issue a resolution..." Connor was silent for a long moment. The interrogation room was suffocatingly quiet. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady and calm: "Derek's actions were extreme, but an accusation of attempted sexual assault... Avery, Derek has a fiancée. He has no reason to target you..." He turned to the Chief, his tone flat but carrying undeniable authority: "Derek’s injuries are severe; send him to the hospital for a forensic medical evaluation." "Avery is emotionally unstable and needs to calm down. Since a formal report was filed, process this as disturbing the peace. Put her in the holding cell for a few days to reflect." My chest felt like it had been violently ripped open. It hurt more than the wounds on my face. The MP Chief immediately understood the subtext: "Yes, Sir. We will escort Officer Derek and Ms. Vance out." Then, switching to a rigid, bureaucratic tone, he turned to me: "Avery, on the grounds of suspected battery and disturbing the peace, you are hereby placed in the brig." I was dragged into the holding cell. Serena, of course, didn't let me off the hook. The next seven days were absolute purgatory. A freezing, damp cell. Moldy bread. Cellmates who intentionally provoked and attacked me. Being splashed awake with freezing water in the middle of the night. My unhealed wounds being roughly handled. The torment was endless. On the day I was finally released, I received a phone call from Mrs. Sterling. "Avery, the divorce has been approved by the military command. From this day forward, you have absolutely nothing to do with Connor, or the Sterling family." "Your father will receive a severance package. Do not contact us ever again." I hung up the phone, hailed a cab, and rode back to the officer's estate. Without alerting a single soul, I walked straight upstairs to my bedroom and did three things: First, I packed all of my personal belongings. Second, I washed my face, scrubbing away every trace of the dark, dull foundation. As the steam cleared from the mirror, it revealed a stunningly radiant, breathtaking face. Third, I used my phone to book a ticket on the earliest commercial flight out of the city. I took a cab to the airport, printed my boarding pass, and went through security. While waiting at the gate, I kept my head slightly lowered, but my bare, unmade-up face still drew countless stares. I ignored them completely. The plane soared into the clouds, leaving this city built on lies far, far behind me. But I didn't know that shortly after I boarded, sneak-shots taken of me at the airport had rapidly surfaced on local social media networks and were spreading like wildfire. #AirportGoddessInCargoPants #IsThisFaceEvenReal #FindHerInfoIn5Mins #EvenSerenaVanceCantCompareToThis The photos went incredibly viral. The entire internet was trying to track down this stunning figure. And very quickly, my true identity was dug up, piece by piece... Chapter 4 Eventually, a shocking piece of news exploded across the military's internal forums— "Is this... Commander Sterling's 'hideous' ex-wife, Avery?!" The entire base was shaken to its core. Immediately following, media outlets with military ties dug up the history: Avery's mother was once the most brilliant lead dancer in the base's performance troupe. After marrying beneath her station, she suffered years of emotional abuse from her husband and eventually died of severe depression. On her deathbed, she gripped her daughter's hand and repeatedly warned her: "Hide your face." Connecting this to the fact that Avery had spent over a decade intentionally making herself look ugly, a viral feature article titled A Mother’s Fading Life, A Daughter Hiding Her Face for Over a Decade rapidly circulated online. The details were grounded in truth, the tone emotionally restrained, yet it triggered a massive public outcry. When the scandal reached its absolute peak, Connor was in the command center, leading the deployment for a major cross-regional tactical exercise. A tactical officer, looking deeply nervous, walked briskly into the room and gently placed an internal briefing on the desk in front of him. "Commander, you need to see this... It's about Avery..." Connor frowned slightly, his eyes dropping to the briefing. He froze. On the document was the high-definition candid photo taken at the airport. No thick glasses. No dark, muddy skin. Her skin was flawless, her features sharp and picturesque. A straight nose, naturally pink lips. It was her. And yet, it was entirely not her. This was Avery. This was the wife he had brought home for three years, yet had never truly seen. Connor's pupils contracted violently. He stared at the photo, then rapidly scanned the text below detailing her mother's tragic history and the psychological analysis of why she had hidden her face for so many years. His heart felt like it was seized by an invisible, crushing hand. The command center was dead silent. Every officer held their breath, watching their usually unshakable, stoic commander display a look of near-blank, absolute shock for the very first time. "Pause the exercise." He grabbed the briefing and strode out of the command center without looking back.
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