Even though I was a board-certified plastic surgeon who graduated from a top medical school with an annual salary in the seven figures, they made it seem like I was still beneath some shady, pathological liar of a "girlfriend who studied abroad".

To put it bluntly, they were either stupid or malicious.

My family just got three apartments and a hefty sum of money from the government after they bought up our old property for redevelopment.

Meanwhile, Patrick's family had nothing but a mountain of gambling debts.

Dad was trembling with rage, the crab claw he'd been holding finally dropping to the floor.

"Nonsense! You're all spouting nonsense!"

My dad, an honest man who had never clashed with anyone in his entire life, was now fighting for me.

"Jillian is a legitimate doctor! She's busy with surgeries every day, so how could she possibly make videos like that? One more word of this nonsense and all of you can get out!"

"Hey now, Myron, don't be so quick to kick us out." Aunt Anita laughed sarcastically and continued, "Where there's smoke, there's fire. It's Kelsey's first time here, and she doesn't even know Jillian. So, why would she falsely accuse her for no reason? She must have proof!"

Patrick caught on quick too. His eyes darted around, a greedy gaze sweeping over our newly renovated, spacious apartment. A cold, calculating look crept across his face.

Kelsey was still sobbing in his arms. But hidden in his arms, she shot me a provocative glance. It was the look of a victor.

"Uncle Myron, don't say I'm being heartless." Patrick cleared his throat and put on the air of a family patriarch. "This has blown up now, and Kelsey is an influencer with hundreds of thousands of followers.

"If Jillian's video gets out, how are we supposed to show our face in public? Who would ever want to marry her after that?"

My mom, Eileen Bates, clutched her chest, her face deathly pale. "Th-then what do you suggest we do?"

Patrick sighed and patted Kelsey on the shoulder.

"Kelsey has suffered a huge injustice here, and Jillian is spreading these filthy rumors about her. There's no way this doesn't warrant emotional damages. And on top of that, to keep her followers' mouths shut, we're going to need to spend serious money on PR."

He paused, fixing his eyes dead on me. "Here's what I think, Uncle Myron. Didn't you just get three apartments from the government?

"Transfer one to Kelsey as compensation for emotional distress and another one to me as payment for cleaning up Jillian's mess. We'll bury this whole thing and take it to our graves. How about it?"

I nearly burst out laughing.

He went through all that trouble of spreading nasty rumors and putting on a whole sob story just to fleece us for everything we had.

I knew it. They were in this together from the start.

How else would an entitled freeloader like Patrick, full of big ambitions but empty pockets, suddenly show up on Christmas Eve with a "woman" whose plastic surgery was so obvious that one could spot it from a mile away?

They were clearly in cahoots.

"One apartment for Kelsey, and one for you?" I pulled out a chair and sat down, drumming my fingers lightly on the table.

I looked at Patrick, my eyes showing not a trace of panic. If anything, there was a hint of amusement.

"Patrick, you've got quite the appetite. Aren't you afraid of biting off more than you can chew?"

Patrick's expression darkened. "Jillian, don't push your luck. I've got the link to that video right here on my phone. One tap, and your dirty little secret will be blasted straight into our neighborhood group chat and your hospital's work chat!

"When that happens, not only will you lose your job, but you'll also have people talking behind your back for the rest of your life."

Right on cue, Kelsey lifted her head. With reddened eyes, she said pitifully, "Jillian, I don't actually want your money. If you'd just get down on your knees, apologize to me, and admit you made up those rumors because you were jealous of me, I'd be willing to let this slide.

"But Patrick's right. My reputation matters too." As she spoke, she rushed toward the window. "I'd rather die than be accused of being transgender. I'm going to jump to prove my innocence!"

"Good heavens! Don't do it!" Aunt Anita and Aunt Rita rushed over to grab her. "Sweetheart, don't do anything foolish. Trash like her isn't worth it!"

In an instant, the whole apartment descended into chaos—crying, yelling, frantic pleading all melting into a blur of noise.

Mom and Dad were utterly at a loss. In fact, Mom had already started wiping away tears, and when she looked at me, her gaze was filled with despair and doubt.

I watched this farce unfold with cold detachment.

So much for family. Blood ties didn't mean a thing when there was something to gain.

I pulled out my phone and, with an air of casual indifference, sent off a message.

Then, I looked up at Patrick and Kelsey, who were waiting for me to get down on my knees, and smirked.

"You want to jump?" I questioned with a scoff. "This is the second floor. The worst you'd get is a fracture. However…"

My gaze landed on Kelsey's suspiciously oversized chest, and my voice took on an eerie tone.

"If the impact is too hard and those implants really do burst, what leaks out won't just be silicone but also your—"

"Shut up!" Kelsey shrieked, her voice so rough that it cracked.

She seemed to realize she'd slipped up and immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, staring at me with sheer terror in her eyes.

Patrick, desperate to cover his embarrassment, jabbed a finger at me viciously.

"Jillian, I'm giving you ten minutes to think it over! Either sign the agreement or be utterly ruined! Your choice!"

With that, he grabbed Kelsey and stormed out the door, supposedly to calm her down. But it was more likely they were regrouping to figure out their next move.

All the other relatives trickled away too, leaving behind a mess of scattered chaos and my parents sighing in despair.

After they'd gone, Dad sat on the couch, chain-smoking one cigarette after another. Shrouded in swirling smoke, he seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.

"Jillian, maybe we should just pay our way out of this trouble. Is that video actually real?" he asked hoarsely.

Even my own father was starting to doubt me.

The saying of "a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting on its shoes" couldn't be more true.

"Dad, do you trust me?" I walked over and crouched down in front of him. Then, I took hold of his rough, weathered hands before continuing, "I'm a doctor and obsessive about cleanliness—both physical and moral. That video is fake, and so is Kelsey."

Dad lifted his bleary eyes to look at me. His lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing.

Just then, there was a knock—no, a pounding at the door.

"Jillian, time's up! Open up!" Patrick's voice, thick with impatience and greed, came through the door.

I rose to my feet and smoothed out the creases in my clothes.

If they were so hellbent on digging their own grave, who was I to deny them?

I walked over to the entryway and opened the door.

Outside the door were Patrick, Kelsey, and the entire peanut gallery of relatives who thrived on drama.

They were even holding printouts with screenshots of an explicit video. Though the images were censored, the side profile and figure did bear some resemblance to me.

Clearly, they'd prepared these props well in advance.

"So? Have you made up your mind?" Patrick waved the property transfer agreement in his hand, grinning smugly. "Sign this, and I'll burn these photos right now. You have my word that no one will ever see them."

Kelsey stood behind him, having already touched up her makeup, back to that lofty socialite demeanor.

She leaned in close to my ear and hissed venomously in a voice only the two of us could hear, "Jillian, I know you never made any video. I had someone create it with deepfake. But so what? No one actually cares about the truth.

"All anyone cares about is a juicy story. So what if you're rich and successful? I'll still crush you. Now hand over the apartment like a good girl, or I'll make sure your name is dragged through the mud so bad that you'll wish you'd never been born."

I looked at her overdone face and smiled even brighter than she did. Then, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped the button to stop the recording.

I gently waved it in front of Kelsey's horrified eyes, saying, "Kelsey, I've recorded everything you just said. However, it seems you've forgotten something."

I stepped aside from the doorway and made an inviting gesture. "Come on in. Signing something this important should really be done in front of the whole family to be legally binding, don't you think?"

Patrick, thinking I'd finally caved, was overjoyed. He shoved past me and swaggered right in.

As rattled as Kelsey was, she steeled herself and followed Patrick inside after seeing how confident he seemed.

The whole family had gathered in the living room once again, the atmosphere even more suffocating than it had been during dinner.

Patrick slapped the agreement down on the coffee table and shoved the pen into my hand.

"Quit stalling! Sign it now!"

I picked up the pen but didn't sign right away.

Instead, I looked at Kelsey and suddenly asked a completely unrelated question, "Kelsey, I heard you're going to give Patrick a son?"

The moment those words left my mouth, our relatives' sullen faces lit up.

Aunt Anita even cried out in delight, "What? Kelsey's pregnant?"

Kelsey froze for a second, then immediately clutched her belly, her expression shifting to a mix of coyness and smug satisfaction.

"Yes, I was planning to tell everyone in a few days. But since Jillian brought it up, I'll just say it now. I'm pregnant with Patrick's child, and I'm two months along."

"Oh my god! The Snyder line will carry on!" Aunt Rita was so excited she slapped her own thigh. "This is wonderful news! Patrick, you've really stepped up as a man!"

Patrick looked completely blindsided. This clearly wasn't part of the script.

But the moment he caught Kelsey's affirming glance, he immediately ran with it.

"Yes, that's right. Kelsey is carrying my baby—the first grandson of this family!"

He then turned to Mom and Dad, his tone growing even more brazen. "Uncle Myron, Aunt Eileen, you hear that? This is the Snyder family bloodline we're talking about. Could you really bear to let this child grow up without a roof over his head?"

Mom and Dad were stunned by the news.

In the old generation's mindset, carrying on the family line trumped everything.

The firm refusal they had held onto just moments ago was now beginning to crack.

The longer I watched the whole circus play out, the frostier my smile became.

"You're pregnant?" I twirled the pen between my fingers, my gaze piercing straight into Kelsey's body like a pair of scalpels.

"Kelsey, if I'm not mistaken, the medical community hasn't exactly figured out how to make men pregnant, has it? Unless you're part seahorse or something?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Kelsey shrieked, her face draining of all color in an instant. "I'm pregnant, whether you believe me or not! I have the ultrasound to prove it!"

She yanked the printout from her bag and slapped it onto the table. "Take a good look! This is my proof!"

The relatives crowded around to see. Sure enough, it was an early-pregnancy ultrasound report. Though the patient's name was a bit blurry, the date was clearly recent.

"See that, Jillian? What do you have to say now?" Patrick was practically preening. "Now sign the agreement! Or I'll show you what it means to sacrifice family for the greater good!"

"An ultrasound report, eh?" I picked up the sheet of paper and tossed it straight into the trash without even glancing at it. "Anyone can pay a few bucks to have something photoshopped, and the only people who'd fall for it are those clueless about the law, like all of you.

"But since we're gathered here, and Patrick's so eager to get his hands on the apartment…"

I stood up and walked over to the TV cabinet, where Dad's brand-new 85-inch flat screen TV sat. It was already connected to my phone via screen mirroring.

"Then allow me to give Patrick a little welcome gift too. It's a precious video clip, all about Kelsey's past life and how she became who she is today."

As if sensing what was coming, Kelsey charged at me like a madwoman, trying to snatch my phone.

"No, Jillian! Don't you dare, you absolute snake!"

"Stop her!" I barked coldly.

Dad was still bewildered, but his body reacted fast. Instinctively, he stepped in front of me and sent Kelsey stumbling backward.

The next second, I hit play.

The dark TV screen lit up in an instant.

There was no explicit video. Instead, what appeared was a high-definition surgical consent form, followed by a set of shocking before-and-after comparison photos. Lastly, there was a police wanted poster.

I pointed at the pre-surgery photo on the screen—a bare-chested figure with hairy legs and unmistakably male features.

The face was rough, tanned, and fleshy. But the eyes and that black mole on the brow bone were identical to the perfectly made-up Kelsey standing right now in the living room.

I turned to the ashen-faced Patrick and the crumpled Kelsey and smiled.

"Everyone, allow me to introduce you to Kelvin Randall, the one carrying Patrick's son. Not only is she a half-baked product with her male parts still intact, but she's also on the Most Wanted list for two counts of fraud. Patrick, are you surprised?

"Bet you didn't see this coming, huh? Looks like she'll be having your son in a men's prison."