In the gynecology exam room, I stepped down from the operating table, my face pale.

The doctor wrote out a prescription while scolding me right in front of everyone.

“Next time, use protection.”

“Only twenty-one and already getting an abortion—did you think about today when you were enjoying yourself?”

With every word, the people in the room looked me up and down.

My hands tightened at my sides, and I grabbed the medicine before fleeing in embarrassment.

On my way out, I bumped into a male doctor.

He glanced at the scattered report on the floor, then looked me over from head to toe.

I couldn’t take it—I snatched up the report and ran.

The moment I stepped out of the hospital, the first thing I saw was Adrian Scott.

Next to a black sedan, Adrian was opening the door for a woman in a wheelchair.

She tilted her head up and kissed him on the lips.

Adrian leaned down, ruffling her hair with gentle affection.

...

I knew that woman.

Bella Scott, the so-called princess of New York City, Adrian’s full-blooded younger sister, the one he’d spoiled all her life.

But just now, they had kissed on the mouth.

A wave of nausea rose in my throat.

I didn’t dare think too deeply about how much Adrian had kept from me.

When I turned, Adrian caught sight of me.

His expression flickered before he said something to the person in the car and walked toward me.

“Layla, was this the hospital you booked for your prenatal check-up? How did it go?”

I stared at him coldly without answering.

Looking at this man I thought I knew, I realized I had never truly known him at all.

He was the one who had pulled me back from the edge of death.

And the one who had destroyed me two years ago.

“Layla, let me explain—my relationship with her isn’t what you think.”

Adrian was quick—he instantly realized I’d seen them kiss.

If it were before, I might have listened.

But now, I wouldn’t believe a word.

“Adrian, we’re done.”

I found myself picking at my hand again, reopening wounds that had barely healed.

Adrian noticed.

He cupped my hands in his, stopping me from hurting myself.

“Don’t be afraid, Layla. I’m here. Relax, breathe.”

I froze.

Ever since I dropped out of school, I’d developed the habit of skin-picking whenever I was under stress.

At its worst, there wasn’t a single unbroken patch on my hands—sometimes I’d even break skin on my arms.

Back then, Adrian would always do this—hold my hands and tell me, over and over, that he was there.

Now, trembling all over, I used every ounce of strength to shove him away.

“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!!”

“Adrian! How long are you going to keep pretending?!”

Maybe my outburst was too much—pain from the recent abortion flared violently in my abdomen.

I tried to stand; I didn’t want to seem weak before him.

But the pain was too sharp, making me want to vomit.

I couldn’t take it—I crouched down, clutching my stomach.

For once, Adrian’s composure cracked, replaced by panic.

He scooped me up and rushed toward the hospital.

But in the next moment, Bella tumbled out of the car, gasping for air.

“Adrian, I can’t breathe… take me home, I don’t want to stay here.”

Hesitation flashed in his eyes, and a few seconds later, he set me down at the hospital entrance.

“Bella’s having an asthma attack. I’ll take her home first.”

“Layla, I’ll explain this later.”

Without another word, he ran back to her.

As he lifted her into his arms, Bella looped both arms around her brother’s neck.

She shot me a nasty smile before I watched Adrian drive away.

I couldn’t hold out any longer and collapsed.

When I woke again, I was in a hospital room.

It was empty except for the steady drip of an IV.

As I sat up in silence, my hand brushed against something on the bed—a small voice recorder.

A sticky note was attached, with two words written on it: Play me.

I pressed the button.

Immediately, Bella’s voice filled the air.

“Adrian, Layla’s pregnant with your child. Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her?”

Adrian’s tone sounded distracted.

“No. I’m just playing around with her.”

Bella’s voice was sweet and casual.

“Good. I’m bored of her too.

Three days from now, on your anniversary, you propose—then quietly tell her the truth. Tell her it was you who took her virginity, and you who spread those rumors on campus. I want to watch her reaction in person.

They say if you crush someone at their happiest moment, it can drive them insane~”

Adrian was silent for a long time before answering.

“Fine.”

The recording cut off.

I automatically started picking at my hand before realizing my fingers were icy cold.

The chill spread from my heart through every inch of my body.

I bent forward slowly, as if I could press the pain out of my chest, but it didn’t work.

The anguish was everywhere.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I clutched the recorder and sobbed.

When I returned home from the hospital, Adrian arrived almost at the same time.

Seeing me unharmed, he seemed relieved.

“Layla, about what happened at the hospital—”

“No need to explain. I don’t want to hear it.”

His brow furrowed for a second, then smoothed.

He took out a red velvet jewelry box, revealing a ruby necklace.

“I saw this on the way home and thought you’d like it.”

I stared at it without reaching for it.

When my guaranteed graduate school admission was revoked, my roommates fully believed the rumors.

They poured red paint all over my bed and scrawled “slut” and “STD” across it.

Even after I cleaned it, new insults would appear.

In the end, I moved into a single dorm room, only to find “public property” and “community bike” spray-painted on the door.

Since then, I’ve hated red.

Adrian knew that.

I took the necklace and tossed it into the trash.

“Adrian, you know exactly why I don’t like red.”

His smile froze.

He stepped forward to hug me, but I moved away.

“I’m tired. I’m going to my room.”

I turned, but he grabbed my arm hard.

His face was dark, his voice a near growl.

“Layla! What the hell is going on with you?

You won’t listen to my explanation, you won’t take my gift—what exactly do you want?”

In the past, I would have backed down immediately, terrified he’d lose patience with me.

After all, he’d saved me once, and for a long time, he was all I had.

But now, that didn’t matter.

I pulled my arm free and pointed to my stomach.

“I’m pregnant. I’m tired.”

A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he let go.

As I walked away, he called after me and handed me the necklace he’d picked up.

“I’m sorry, Layla. I lost my temper. Keep it. The past should stay in the past, and I’ll always be here for you from now on.”

Was he really telling me to let it go?

But a perpetrator has no right to tell the victim to “let it go.”

I shoved Adrian away and walked off without looking back.

The day before our anniversary, a stranger added me on WeChat. I accepted.

They sent me a video.

The footage was shot secretly, making it grainy, but I could still make out Bella in a wheelchair.

I instantly realized—this was from two years ago.

In the video, Bella was pouting.

“Adrian, I hate Layla. She stole my guaranteed graduate school admission, and she acts all high-and-mighty like some untouchable princess!”

“Just help me one more time, please—ruin her for me, okay?”

One of Adrian’s friends jumped in eagerly.

“Adrian, I’ve got something that’ll knock her out all night.”

Adrian shot him a sharp glare, instantly shutting everyone up.

“Bella, if you don’t like her, I can get her transferred to another school.”

Bella slammed her hands on the wheelchair armrests, her voice rising.

“Is this how you take care of me, after Mom told you to look after me before she died?!

If you won’t, I’ll find another man! Or I’ll just end it right now—nobody in this world loves me anymore!”

Adrian rubbed his temples, visibly tired.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

The video cut off.

I typed out a reply to the sender—wanted to ask who they were, why they were helping me.

But in the end, I only sent two words: Thank you.

Anniversary Day.

Adrian wore a perfectly tailored suit.

Bella was in a custom designer gown, beautiful and ostentatious, as if she were the star of the event.

Many guests were there—most were my former college classmates.

“Layla’s so lucky. Even as a worn-out shoe, she still landed Adrian.”

“Don’t forget she’s a public bike. Who knows whose kid she’s carrying?”

Bella heard their whispers and smirked to herself.

Across the room, Adrian stood holding a small ring box, glancing at his watch from time to time.

It wasn’t even a wedding, but he looked uncharacteristically nervous.

He texted me:

“Babe, how much longer until you’re here?”

I used to reply in seconds.

This time, a long silence.

A strange unease stirred in him.

The next second, the entire room gasped.

On the giant screen, a mysterious video began to play:

“No, I’m just playing around with her.”

“Adrian, propose first—then quietly tell her the truth.”

“Tell her it was you who took her virginity, and you who spread the campus rumors. I want to watch her reaction.”

“I hate Layla. She stole my graduate spot and acts all high-and-mighty!”

“Just help me ruin her one more time.”

Faces in the crowd grew increasingly grim.

Bella went pale, waving her arms frantically.

“It’s all fake! Don’t believe it!”

“Security! Turn that off, now!”

Guards rushed to unplug the power, plunging the venue into silence.

At that moment, Adrian’s phone rang. It was me.

“Adrian, happy second anniversary. Do you like my gift?”

“Oh, and I forgot to mention—your bastard child? I already got rid of it, the same day you took Bella to the hospital.”

His pupils contracted sharply.

He gripped the phone so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Layla! How dare you?! Tell me where you are!”

I let out a cold laugh and hung up.