I grew up alongside New York’s most untouchable heir, Carter Winchester. For ten whole years, I transitioned from the "older sister" who took care of him, to his unacknowledged underground lover, and finally to the most obedient piece in his endless rotation of women. Everyone in our circle knew I loved him. Until his first love—his white moonlight—returned to the States. To prove his devotion, he cleared out all the beautiful distractions around him. Including me. The night I left, he and his friends laughed me out of the room. But later, they all said the same thing. Carter Winchester had lost his mind. By the time I dragged myself out of bed, Carter was still sound asleep. The floor was a mess, and my sheer stockings were completely ruined. But I had an executive meeting at the company this morning. I clicked my tongue in annoyance, rubbing my aching lower back as I rummaged through the dresser drawers. I distinctly remembered leaving a spare pair here last time, but I couldn't find them anywhere. Just then, a low whistle sounded behind me. Carter’s voice dripped with teasing amusement. "Big sis, your body is still as incredible as ever." I didn't have the energy to entertain him. "Where are my stockings?" He furrowed his handsome brows, thinking for a second, looking entirely unbothered. "I think Chloe or Lily from Columbia University might have worn them home last time? I don't remember." My hands stopped moving. Even though it wasn't the first time I had heard him say something so casually cruel, my heart still gave a dull ache, followed closely by a wave of self-deprecation. After all these years, hadn't I learned my lesson? I was never anyone special to him. I let out a long sigh, stood up, and started putting on my clothes. But Carter patted the empty space beside him. Like a lazy, satisfied predator, his implication was heavy. "Big sis, why are you leaving so early?" "I have a meeting at the company." He gave me a look and clicked his tongue. "Is this about that commercial plot in Manhattan? Why work so hard? Just stay here with me this morning, and that land is yours." It was afternoon by the time I made it to the office. My whole body ached. The moment I sat down, my father called. His voice was oozing with praise. "Maddie, we got the land! You did great this time. Keep Carter happy, your younger brother’s future depends entirely on you." Holding the phone, I stared at my twenty-six-year-old reflection in the glass window. A bitter smile crept onto my face. "Dad, I'm not that young anymore. Carter has plenty of eighteen and nineteen-year-old girls throwing themselves at him. What makes you think I can keep his attention?" My father paused on the other end of the line. "Besides, this is probably the last time Carter is going to look out for us." "Why?!" My father's voice instantly spiked with panic. "Madeline, did you offend him?! Go apologize right now! Your brother's inheritance—" I gripped the phone tightly. My so-called family was a bottomless pit of greed. To them, I was just a bargaining chip. As long as I slept with Carter, I brought in resources. I could be anything to them, except a human being. A crushing wave of humiliation washed over me, and the tears I’d been holding back finally fell. "Because Madison is coming back." I didn't want to say another word. I hung up. Outside, my secretary knocked tentatively on the door. "Ms. Hayes, the gift you requested is ready. Would you like to inspect it?" I wiped my tears and signaled her to come in. The watch in the velvet box was stunning, and obscenely expensive. A Vacheron Constantin Les Cabinotiers. Just like me. An endless traveler, lost at sea, never finding a place to land. That was the reality of my relationship with Carter. You could call us lovers, or you could call it a transactional exchange. But out of all the women in his orbit, I was undeniably the most obedient. After all, my father relied heavily on the Winchester family empire. From the time I was in high school, I was constantly given orders: "Serve the young master of the Winchester family well." I carried his bags, did his homework, and cleaned up his messes. He went from being annoyed by me and ordering me around, to secretly beating up an upperclassman who was harassing me. I genuinely thought I was special. I watched him grow into a devastatingly handsome young man. I watched as countless beautiful girls flocked to him. I watched him fool around with one—or several—of them the night before, only to throw his arm over my shoulder the next day, looking incredibly smug. "Listen up, everyone. This is my big sis." His hand was so warm against my shoulder that I almost shivered from the heat. I watched my own heart sink into an abyss of unrequited love, forcing myself to hide it carefully. Until the night he got blackout drunk and called me to pick him up. I finally managed to get the drunken heir back to his penthouse. I was just about to leave when he grabbed my wrist. He narrowed his eyes, half-asleep, looking at me with a gaze dripping in affection. "Maddie." When his kiss fell, I didn't push him away. There were no confessions, no flowers. Only pain. But I took it willingly. I just never expected the look in his eyes when he woke up the next morning. It was pure disdain. "Madeline, you really are..." Are what? I sat up, bewildered. Before I even had the chance to feel shy, Carter went straight to the shower, changed his clothes, and left. The door slammed shut with a deafening bang. He didn't even look back at me. I sat frozen on the bed for a long time, having no idea what I had done wrong. It wasn't until later that I found out. The day before, my father had gone to him on his knees, begging for a massive capital injection to save our crumbling family business. And it wasn't until much, much later that I realized the "Maddie" he was calling out for that night wasn't Madeline. It was Madison. He didn't love me. My fragile, blooming feelings were slaughtered before they even saw the light of day. From that day forward, he only ever called me "Big Sis." It felt like a custom-made, condescending brand of humiliation. Reserved only for me. He didn't contact me for a whole week after that. Until his birthday. Carter loved grand spectacles. His birthdays were massive events, swarming with the heirs and socialites of New York's upper crust. I originally didn't want to go, but his childhood friends kept blowing up my phone. "Madeline, Carter is celebrating at The Onyx tonight. It wouldn't look right if you didn't show, would it?" I hesitated for a long time before finally giving in. I planned to just show my face, hand over the gift, and leave. But right as I reached for the handle of the VIP suite, I heard one of Carter's friends ask a question. "Carter, now that Madison is back, what are you gonna do about her?" The room erupted in a chorus of teasing whistles. My hand froze on the door. A moment later, Carter's lazy, careless drawl drifted through the wood. "What do you mean, do about her? She’s been following me around for years. We’ll just deal with it how it usually goes." "Damn, you're generous. A breakup gift of prime Manhattan real estate? Careful, she might cling to you like a leech. Sugar daddies as generous as you are hard to find." It felt like someone had slapped me across the face. My fingers gripped the watch box so tightly they trembled. I just wanted to turn and run. But suddenly, someone shoved me hard from behind. I lost my footing, stumbling straight through the door and crashing violently into a towering champagne pyramid. The glowing, crystal tower collapsed in an explosive crash of breaking glass. Sticky champagne soaked my hair and drenched my body. My white strapless dress was ruined, clinging to my skin. My carefully done makeup ran down my cheeks with the alcohol. I was a pathetic, unsalvageable mess. "Oh! My bad, I didn't mean to." It was Blair Kensington. A wealthy socialite and Madison's best friend. I looked up. Carter was sitting dead center on the plush leather sofa. Madison was leaning delicately against his chest, wearing a perfectly calculated expression of surprise. "Madeline? What are you doing here?" When did she get back to the States? I didn't want to look this pathetic in front of her, but everyone in the room was watching the show. Not a single person stepped forward to help me up. Blair’s voice was the loudest. "I'm just saying, Madeline, if you're getting too old for heels, just say so. Didn't know you wanted to bow down to us so badly." "Too bad we aren't Carter. We don't have any real estate to hand out." The room erupted into laughter. They exchanged secretive, knowing glances, fully enjoying the spectacle. Until the laughter naturally died down. Carter furrowed his brows, looking at me like I was a stain on his reputation. "What are you doing here?" If I didn't understand it by now, I was an idiot. This whole thing was a coordinated ambush by Carter's inner circle—a welcoming "gift" for Madison's return. As I tried to stand, a sharp, shooting pain flared in my ankle. I almost collapsed again. When I threw my hand out to catch myself, shards of broken glass dug deep into my palm. I shuddered in pain. "I... came to give you your birthday present." "No need." He glanced at the watch box in my hand, his tone airy and dismissive. "I have plenty of things like that. Keep it for yourself. I'll have my driver take you home." The AC in the club was blasting heat, but I felt like I was drowning in a freezing lake. I couldn't stop shivering. The moment the suite door clicked shut behind me, the room erupted into roaring laughter again. My heart finally, entirely, sank to the bottom. Later that night, someone texted me a video. Carter, slightly drunk and egged on by the cheers of his friends, pulled Madison into his arms and kissed her deeply, passionately. He murmured her name over and over. "Maddie, Maddie..." So cherished. Like she was the most precious thing in the world. Watching it, a sudden laugh escaped my throat as tears rolled down my cheeks. Carter had never kissed me in front of his friends. To him, I was just a convenient, well-worn object he kept around. Tasteless to chew on, but a pity to throw away. My phone buzzed again. Another message from an unknown number in their circle. "What do you think you are?" Yeah. What am I? Just a joke. I parked my car under the Brooklyn Bridge and walked up to the pedestrian walkway. In front of me was the endless, rushing stream of New York traffic. Below was the dark, silent river. People in Carter's circle hated crowded places. They always felt like being around normal people tainted their status. But I loved watching people. I watched young couples kissing in beat-up sedans. I saw exhausted blue-collar workers resting their heads against the bus windows, looking drained of life. I saw girls with perfectly engineered faces sitting in the passenger seats of convertibles, ecstatic as they clutched orange Hermès bags. They were so young. They didn't realize that every gift life hands you already has a price tag secretly attached. Just like me. I turned around, stepped onto the lower railing, and reached my hand out toward the open water to feel the freezing wind. Suddenly, a voice screamed from behind me. "Don't do it!" Before I could even process the words, a massive force yanked me off the railing. The person dragged me backward, shouting at the top of his lungs. "You're so young! Don't do anything stupid!" Caught completely off guard, I tumbled onto the concrete, tangled up with a man. The heel of my shoe snagged, twisting my already injured ankle again. I let out a sharp cry of pain. But the nightmare wasn't over. My already ruined cocktail dress let out a horrifying, audible RIP. I froze, absolutely terrified to move, and screamed at him in blind panic. "I wasn't trying to kill myself! Let go of me!" "Don't be st—" The guy froze mid-sentence. "Wait, you weren't jumping?" It was only then that I got a good look at the culprit. He was young. Really good-looking. Wearing a white hoodie, looking as fresh and earnest as a sapling. His face turned bright red, and he started stammering. "I-I'm so sorry..." He frantically stripped off his oversized jacket and draped it over me. "I am so sorry, I really thought you were jumping, I just panicked and tackled you." I must have forgotten to check my horoscope today, because every single thing that had happened was an absolute disaster. But this guy wouldn't leave me alone. He trailed behind me like a guilty puppy. "Let me walk you to your car." "I said no." But the kid was acting like a Golden Retriever with a wagging tail, desperately trying to show his remorse. He followed me step for step. My patience finally snapped. I spun around, reached out, hooked a finger into his hoodie strings, and yanked him down. The kid went rigid as a board. I watched my reflection grow larger in his wide, panicked eyes... Then, a sudden flash of white light blinded me. I turned my head stiffly. The speeding traffic on the bridge had slowed to a crawl. In almost every passing car, someone was excitedly holding up their smartphone—filming this highly entertaining "rescue" scene. I didn't even have to guess. By tonight, every social media platform would be flooded with the tag: #HeartbrokenWomanJumpsOffBridge #HandsomeCollegeStudentSavesTheDay. I made a split-second decision. I pulled his oversized jacket completely over my head. And I bolted. When I got home, I drew the blackout curtains and slept like the dead. Until I was jolted awake by a vicious slap across the face. I opened my eyes to see my father’s face twisted in rage. "What kind of shameful, humiliating stunt did you pull?!" My vision went black for a few seconds before I finally caught my breath. "What are you doing?" "Madeline, you’ve really outdone yourself! You get dumped and you go jump off a bridge?! Do you care about the Hayes family's reputation at all?!" He was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring like an enraged bull. Behind him stood my stepmother, Linda, barely hiding the smug look on her face. "Oh, Richard, calm down. Maddie definitely didn't mean it. She was just upset about being dumped. Don't yell at the poor girl." My mother had barely been dead a month before Linda moved in, already heavily pregnant. My nightmare started the day she crossed the threshold. Even sending me off to act as a "study buddy" for Carter was Linda's "well-intentioned" suggestion. She had used her soft, venomous voice: "Childhood sweethearts are the hardest to forget. If our Maddie gets lucky, she might be able to help her little brother out in the future." And just like that, I was boxed up and given away as a gift. "She's a useless piece of trash! She clung to him for all these years and couldn't even secure a ring. And now she's been thrown out on the street!" My father was getting angrier by the second, barking orders at me. "Since you can't get Carter to change his mind, there's no reason for you to sit on the board of the company anymore. Hand over the keys!" As if I actually cared about that sinking ship. It was almost funny. "I can give you the keys." I cut him off. "Give me my mother's ashes." For years, the only reason I hadn't disappeared was because they were using my mother's urn as collateral. I stared dead into my father's eyes. I watched his face shift from red, to green, and finally to purple, before he erupted into a screaming fit. "You little bitch! You're just like your mother—" "Don't you dare talk about my mother!" A sudden wave of intense nausea hit me. I turned my head and vomited over the side of the bed. Linda violently tugged on my father's sleeve, cutting off his tirade. She whispered something to him, and to my horror, I saw a flash of wild ecstasy ignite in both their eyes. Instantly, my father's entire demeanor flipped. "Maddie, sweetie... are you pregnant?" I froze. Come to think of it, last time we really didn't... "You rest up. Your stepmother and I will make you some soup and come check on you later." My father rubbed his hands together greedily, looking like a disgusting blowfly hovering over rotting meat.
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