My obsession, Ethan Sinclair, fell in love with his tutor—a woman ten years older than him. She was vibrant, wild, and radiating youth. She was everything I wasn't. I was just a coward hiding in the shadows. She introduced him to a world of thrills, dragging him into her crazy adventures. They would kiss at the highest point of the Ferris wheel, and hold each other tightly in private pools... Later, their secret affair was exposed to the world. No one knew I was the informant. She vanished into a snowy night, leaving her location in a single message only to me, asking me to pass it to him. I smiled and agreed. Then, I deleted her sixty-second voice memo permanently. That night, Ethan pounded on my door in the middle of a raging blizzard. His eyes were bloodshot as he fell to his knees before me. He was broken, hysterical, and completely lifeless. "She’s your aunt, Elena. You must know where she went. Please, just tell me. I'm begging you." I smiled, gently closing the door, and pointed him in the exact opposite direction. He rushed into a cab, chasing a ghost. And just like that, they missed each other forever. I stayed by his side through his darkest eight years, watching him drown in near-depression. Finally, I got the words I had waited a lifetime for. "Let’s just settle for each other, Elena." But eight years later, she returned. With his child. Ethan threw a divorce agreement in my face without a single glance back. Only then did I realize... Stolen happiness always ends in the most humiliating way.
My mother was a gold-digging maid in a wealthy household. She seized her chance when the master of the house was dead drunk, got herself pregnant, and ran away. A year later, she crashed a high-society charity gala, holding me—a drooling baby who couldn't even control her bladder. "This is Mr. Vance's child! That night, he was red-faced, dragged me into his bed, and made love to me!" "I've only had one man! This baby is his! If you don't take us in, I'll leak this to the tabloids tomorrow!" Mrs. Vance despised her vulgarity and ignorance. She wrote a fat check to get rid of her. My mother got what she wanted—enough money to secure a life of luxury. Mrs. Vance looked down at me, abandoned on the cold floor, her voice icy. "Take the child." My mother didn't want a useless tagalong. She only cared about the cash. "Since she's a Vance, she's your responsibility now. Do whatever you want with her." As if afraid they would take the money back, she grabbed the check and bolted. Mrs. Vance wanted to throw me into the slums to let me rot, but Mr. Vance stopped her. "Let’s keep her for now. If she grows up ugly, we throw her out then." "If the family runs into financial trouble later, we can always marry her off for an alliance." And so, I stayed in the Vance mansion. My birth was nothing but a tool. A tool for my biological mother to get rich, and a backup plan for the Vance family to secure their long-term interests. In that entire mansion, my existence was the dirtiest, most shameful secret. Mrs. Vance hated the sight of me, and Julian, the young heir of my age, never gave me a decent look. For over a decade, I was a ghost. An outsider. Anyone could mock me, and anyone could step on me. Even the maids complained about having to feed a nameless stray like me. "You're not even pretty, and you don't even know how to kiss up to Mr. and Mrs. Vance. Just wait until they dump you!" "Who are you crying for? Remember, when you see them, you smile." So, I learned to smile. When they cursed at me, I smiled. When they slapped me, I smiled. When they kicked me, I smiled. Until one day, Julian and his friends ripped my textbooks to shreds and threw them into the frozen pond. I couldn't smile anymore. "Look at you, a born beggar who only knows how to wag her tail. A stupid bitch with no mother to love her. Just a piece of trash." I stood there, frozen. I opened my mouth to fight back, but I couldn't find the words. Should I cry? That would only make them happier. They all said my mother was a whore, and I was just a little whore she spat out. So, I chose to smile again. Seeing my blank smile, they lost interest. "Forget it, she’s literally brain-dead. No fun at all." I had no friends. Books were my only company. Julian crossed his arms, looking at me with a smirk. "Well, the pond is frozen anyway. Go get your trash yourself!" They watched me. They wanted to see what I would do. Without a word or a tear, I took a step onto the ice. But within three feet, the ice cracked. I plunged straight into the freezing, dark water. As the icy water rushed into my nose and throat, my survival instinct kicked in. I thrashed wildly, screaming for help. On the bank, Julian realized he had gone too far. He panicked. "Oh my god, she fell in!" "What do we do? I can't swim!" "If something happens to her, my parents will kill me!" "Let’s just run! She walked out there herself. If anyone asks, we know nothing!" Their voices faded as they argued, but not one of them reached out a hand. Their muffled voices drifted away. I opened my eyes under the water. The sky above was blindingly bright. At that moment, I became strangely calm. I had spent my whole life living like a rat in dark, damp corners. Standing, sitting, lying down. I was terrified of eye contact. Terrified of attention. I thought if I kept my head down, I would be safe from harm. But I had already crawled so low. Why wasn't it enough? I didn't understand. What else did I have to do for them to love me? I didn't want to try anymore. It was pointless. Suddenly, a commotion broke out above the ice. "What are you guys doing?" "Someone's in the water! Save her!" Ten-year-old Ethan Sinclair ordered his bodyguard to pull my shivering body out of the depths. He stood there with a cold face, lecturing Julian. "She is your sister, Julian. No one chooses their birth. How can you blame an innocent girl for things she can't control?" I lay on the frozen ground, gasping, greedily inhaling the freezing air. The midday sun beat down on me. Through my numb, stiff body, I felt a piercing warmth seep into my chest. He said no one chooses their birth. He said I was innocent. Julian stamped his foot in anger. "Her mother ruined my family's reputation! Do you know how it feels to have everyone laugh at me for having a rat for a sister?" Ethan let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Then stop listening." "Choosing to join the bullies is your own choice." After that day, I became Ethan’s shadow. Julian was terrified of Ethan, who was three years older. Every time they tried to corner me, I would hide behind Ethan. He would always stand in front of me, his face stern. "If anyone bullies you again, tell me. I’ll protect you." He was wonderful, but he was always distant and aloof. He was always busy, studying every single day, never taking a breath. But when Julian hung my skirt on a high branch to humiliate me, Ethan put down his books and climbed the tree to get it back. When they put dead bugs in my locker, he silently bought me new school supplies... It didn't matter if everyone else hated me. As long as Ethan didn't.
I began to develop a sick craving for Julian's bullying. Because that was the only way I could justify running to Ethan. And so, we spent over a decade together. Year after year, I watched the love in my heart bloom into a dark, heavy flower. But during my junior year of high school, Julian stole my lunch card and emptied every cent on it. After all these years, tormenting me was still his favorite game. But my tears had run dry. I had become numb. He announced to the whole class, "My sister is buying Starbucks for everyone today! Grab whatever you want!" He knew I wouldn't make a scene. I didn't have the power to. My eyes were blurry with hunger, but my heart fluttered with the joy of having an excuse to see Ethan. With a smile on my face, I pushed open his bedroom door. But before I could step in, a sweet scent of grapefruit hit my nose. Behind the grand piano, two figures were pressed together. The sound of wet, breathless kissing filled the quiet room. "Ethan, stop... someone’s here," a soft, breathless female voice murmured. It was a beautiful, young voice. It was quiet, but standing at the door, I heard every syllable. I instantly knew what was happening. It sounded just like the bad boys and girls kissing in the school alleys. Ethan was kissing another woman. The smile on my face slowly died. I could hear my own heartbeat, loud and wild, bordering on insane. The room was dimly lit. I stood frozen in the doorway. The room fell silent. I knew they were waiting for me to be smart enough to leave. "Where did Ethan go?" I asked loudly, mimicking a clueless girl, and took a heavy step inside. The breathing in the room hitched. "Oh, I guess he’s not here." I pretended I had seen nothing, slowly pulling the door shut. Inside, a raspy, low voice whispered, "See? I told you she didn't hear anything." "Vivian... let's keep going, okay?" I stood by the oak tree outside Ethan's house until midnight. What were they doing in there? Kissing her nose, her lips, biting her neck? What else? The jealousy taking root in my chest sent a sharp, agonizing pain through my heart—a pain worse than any blow Julian had ever dealt me. Ethan was the golden boy, the envy of everyone. I had been by his side for years, and I had never seen him look at a girl. He never touched women. So I had proudly told myself that I was the closest girl to him. But what if someone else had already claimed him? The cigarette butt burned my fingertips. I looked at the pile of ashes at my feet and let out a silent, cold laugh. To wash away the bitter taste in my mouth, I pulled a sour candy from my pocket and popped it in. Orange flavor. Sour. When life is bitter, you always crave something sweet. But things never go your way. I forced myself to stop thinking and waited for the woman to come out. I needed to see what kind of woman had captured Ethan's heart. The biting wind whipped my face, but when Vivian’s face appeared in the streetlight, my heart sank to the freezing ground. She was Mrs. Vance’s younger sister—my step-aunt. A brilliant graduate from an Ivy League school, and Ethan’s private tutor. She was indeed beautiful, vibrant, and incredibly kind. Vivian never forgot to buy me Christmas gifts, and she never ignored me like Mrs. Vance did. But she was ten years older than Ethan. That night, I smashed every gift she had ever given me. I ripped them to shreds and threw them in the trash. Whatever affection I had for her turned into pure, unadulterated hatred the moment she stole Ethan. I spent almost all my savings hiring a private investigator to take photos of them. I didn't care if I had to starve myself. A few days later, Julian stole my lunch card again. "Give it back," I said, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. It was the first time I had ever looked him in the eye. "Oh? You're actually talking back to me now? Look who got a backbone." This time, I fought him like a wild animal. My sharp nails dug into his face. I held a utility knife, hovering just an inch from his eye. In Julian’s terrified dark eyes, I saw my own reflection—a raving lunatic. For the first time in his life, he backed down. I won the fight, but I couldn't escape the punishment from my stepparents. The night I was forced to kneel at the foot of the stairs, Ethan didn't show up. In the past, whenever I was punished, he would secretly send a maid with ointment. But that night, he was in the pool with Vivian. Looking at the photos the PI sent me, I carefully cut Ethan's face out. As for Vivian, I crumpled her face, tore it to pieces, and stabbed it repeatedly with a knife. I hated her. I hated her for stealing my light. I opened the metal box hidden deep in my closet. It was filled with little things Ethan had given me over the years—my deepest, darkest desires. I calmly pulled out a tube of ointment that was almost empty. I sliced my own knee with a knife, and then carefully applied the cream. "Ethan, you do care about me." "Only when I'm hurt, you show up." I stared at the empty doorway with hope. But after a minute, my smile crumbled. I threw the metal box across the room. In this tiny, suffocating room, I didn't even have the courage to scream. He wasn't coming. My sun had been stolen by a filthy thief. I packed up all the evidence. I dropped the thick envelope of photos into the Sinclair family's mailbox. I took off my gloves and adjusted my hood. It was going to snow again. This year, there wouldn't be a third person standing between us. No one can steal... My sun.
As expected, Ethan’s parents went ballistic when they found out about the affair. They ordered them to break it off immediately. Ethan, who had been the perfect, obedient son his whole life, rebelled for the first time. "You've always treated me like Harry's ghost! I've never had a single second to breathe!" "All these years, I've lived like a robot! Do I even have my own mind?" "I just love her. It’s not a crime!" That day, with a bright red handprint on his cheek, he stubbornly packed a single suitcase and walked out. With a smug smile, I passed him at the gate. But my smile froze when I saw his face. I asked him, "Where are you going?" His mother chased him to the door, screaming hysterically. "Ethan! If you take one more step, we are disowning you!" Such harsh words didn't make him turn back. It only made him more resolved. "Harry is dead! You projected all your obsession onto me! I am Ethan! Open your eyes! I will never be Harry!" "You drove my brother to his grave. Now is it my turn?" This wasn't the first time I had heard that name. I had heard Mrs. Vance gossip about it before. "If Harry were still alive, Ethan wouldn't have to carry such a heavy burden." Mrs. Sinclair stood at the door, speechless. She covered her face and sobbed. That name was a taboo, a permanent thorn in her heart. The boy's silhouette was so determined, and between him and me, there was a clear, uncrossable line. I ran after him, crying, grabbing his sleeve. "Ethan, are you leaving?" "Who will protect me when they bully me?" "Please don't go..." My begging didn't make him hesitate for even a second. He gently but firmly pulled his arm away. "Elena, I can't protect you anymore." "You have to learn to stand on your own." Those words felt like a dagger to my heart. My perfect plan had failed. He didn't have me in his eyes. He wouldn't stay for me. It shouldn't be like this. I stared at him, forcing a small smile, my hands trembling as I stuffed all my cash into his palm. "Okay. I will." "Take care of yourself out there." I didn't care about the bullying. One more day, one less day, it made no difference to me. But I couldn't let Ethan leave my sight. And more importantly, I couldn't let him find out what I had done. And the twisted, dark obsession I had for him. I thought a pampered rich boy like Ethan would crawl back within a week. But he held out for two months. The Sinclair family cut off all his credit cards. He went to work at construction sites, washed dishes at restaurants, and served drinks at nightclubs. He threw away all his pride and never looked back. With Ethan gone from our neighborhood, the bullies came back. When they beat me, I didn't even cover my face. One night, covered in bruises, I dragged myself to Ethan’s tiny, cramped apartment. Through the foggy window, I saw them holding each other tightly. Vivian saw me and rushed to pull me inside. "Oh my god, Elena... what happened to you?" Her eyes were filled with genuine worry. She grabbed a first-aid kit and gently applied medicine to my cuts. I stared at her beautiful, kind face, saying nothing. If she hadn't stolen Ethan, maybe I would have liked her. "Elena, take your money back. I'm doing fine," Ethan said, pushing the crumpled bills back to me. "I'm not as miserable as you think." "Just take care of yourself." I clutched the crumpled bills, my nails digging into the paper. But I want you to be miserable. I want you to be so broken that you have to give up this useless romance. Taking the money back meant I was losing my only connection to him. I was being pushed back into the shadows. I had no excuse to see him. I couldn't accept that. Tears spilled over, stinging the cuts on my face. "So I'm the only miserable one here." For a split second, a flash of hatred toward Ethan flared up in my chest. If you couldn't be the savior of my world, why did you give me hope just to drag me into the abyss? Ethan and Vivian panicked, trying to wipe my tears. "Elena, we didn't mean it like that..." I shoved Vivian's hand away, my voice dripping with venom. "Don't touch me. We are not the same."
After that, I went through four or five boyfriends. They were immature, arrogant, fake... I didn't even know what I was looking for. Maybe a shadow of Ethan. But none of them had it. I grew tired, bored, and empty. No one could replace Ethan. Just like no one could replace Vivian in his heart. Ethan refused Vivian's money and his family's money. He had to pay rent and study at the same time. Before his exams, he got into a fight at his part-time job. Some thugs broke his right arm with a chair. He completely missed his Harvard admission exams. Of course... I was the one who paid those thugs. Mrs. Sinclair couldn't take it anymore. While Ethan was hospitalized, she literally fell to her knees in front of Vivian. "Please leave him. You two don't belong together. I won't let my son ruin his life!" "Get out of his life. You will only drag him down." "Do you want me to die right in front of you? Have you no shame? He cannot have any stains on his record!" Ethan couldn't have any stains. He was a luxury product waiting to be sold. If he got dirty before he was put on the market, his value would drop. Vivian stood on the hospital balcony in the freezing wind all night. As the snow began to fall, she finally gave in. Before she left, she blocked and deleted everyone. For Ethan, she left a sixty-second voice memo. "Can you play this for him?" she asked me. I promised I would. But the moment she turned around, I hit the permanent delete button. He would never hear it. When Ethan was discharged and went back to his apartment, everything belonging to Vivian was gone. He lost his mind. Ignoring the raging blizzard, he dragged his broken arm all the way to the Vance mansion. He begged Mrs. Vance, he begged me, he even fell to his knees in the snow. The boy knelt on the white snow, wearing nothing but a thin shirt, snow piling on his hair and shoulders. His face was flushed red from the cold, but his eyes were filled with desperate hope. It was the first time I had ever seen him so broken, so unhinged. "Elena, you know where she went, don't you? Please, tell me! I'll go crazy without her!" The first time Ethan ever begged me, it was for another woman. Watching his agonizing pain, a twisted sense of joy washed over me. This was his punishment for leaving me. But after the joy, came a crushing emptiness. His love for her was deeper than I could ever imagine. So, I lied to him. Ethan muttered a quick thank you and ran off into the dark. Watching him disappear, I collapsed onto the snow. It was so cold. Just like when I was ten and fell into the frozen pond. Even the spot where I lay was the same. But this time, there was no light, and no Ethan. "Don't go. You two will never have a happy ending." "Ethan! Don't go!" After a long time, I covered my face and laughed like a madwoman. Go ahead. Run. You're heading in the complete opposite direction anyway. I pressed my arm over my eyes, hot, salty tears sliding down my temples. I couldn't count how many tears I shed. When I was five, I swore I would never become a liar like my mother. But today, I told the biggest lie of my life. Looking at him kneeling in the snow, it felt like years ago when the sun framed him like a savior. Back then, his hand was warm, pulling me out of the freezing water. Now, his hand was colder than the snow. And I was the one who pushed him in. How wonderful, Ethan. Now, we are both freezing.
Ethan returned, looking like a corpse. As expected, he didn't find Vivian. He kept his head down, his voice raspy and broken. "Are you happy now, Mom? She’s gone. I can't find her." He was back. But he locked himself in his room, refusing to eat or drink. But what could he do? Even if he starved himself, his family just put him on an IV drip. They would keep him alive. Even if he was just an empty shell with no soul. When I realized he was trying to slit his wrists in the bathtub, I rushed into his house with his favorite food. Seeing the bathtub filled with blood and the pale, lifeless boy, I screamed. I ran out of the room, tumbling down the stairs, bleeding from my forehead. Even though my body was covered in bruises, I couldn't stop. This shouldn't be the ending. He was supposed to give up on Vivian, not die for her! Why! Why would he die for her! I didn't understand, and I wouldn't allow it! He was in a coma for three days. His parents looked like they had aged ten years. When he finally woke up, his mother slapped him hard across the face. "You ungrateful brat! If you want to die, do it cleanly! Why are you doing this to us? Are you trying to drive us insane?" "Your brother traded his life for yours! What right do you have to die?" Ethan stared at the ceiling for a long time, tears soaking into his pillow. I stood by his bed, watching him. I gently wiped his tears away. Seeing him cry, my tears fell too. His voice was hoarse and incredibly exhausted. "Elena... talk to me." For the first time, he let me see the fragile soul hidden beneath his arrogant, perfect exterior. "Okay. I'm listening." After his parents left, he opened up to me for the first time about his brother. "My brother, Harry, carried our entire family on his shoulders. But he... he just fell in love with an ordinary girl." "I was three years old when I heard my parents screaming at him." He spoke in a flat, emotionless tone. "An arranged marriage is your destiny, Harry. You have no choice." Harry looked at the empire he had built with his own sweat and blood. Now, his parents were forcing him to abandon his first love of ten years. For the first time, he rebelled. He ran away and married the girl he loved. The two brothers had ended up on the exact same path. "After my brother left, my parents started grooming me. They called him a traitor, ungrateful, and told me never to be like him." Back then, he didn't understand. Why his brilliant, perfect brother had suddenly become a taboo, a failure. "Later, during my mother's birthday party, some business rivals they had offended hired thugs from the black market. They kidnapped me and locked me on a boat rigged with explosives." Harry wasn't even supposed to be at the party. His parents had lied about being sick to trick him into coming back, intending to drug him and throw him into the bed of a wealthy heiress who fancied him. Ethan's eyes turned red as he spoke. "My sister-in-law realized something was wrong. She tried to help me escape, but we were both captured." The memory of the fire that day had haunted Ethan for over a decade. The kidnappers gave Harry a choice. One had to die. "My parents fell to their knees, begging Harry to choose me, his little brother." "They screamed, 'Harry! He is your own brother! How can you watch him die?'" Harry broke down. Looking at his wife and his family, he couldn't choose. He couldn't... "His wife couldn't bear to see him suffer. She bit her tongue and committed suicide." "Harry traded himself to get me back." By the time the police arrived, Harry secretly detonated the bomb. In the massive explosion and fire, he and his wife were united forever.
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