It had been six years since Vincent Castellano was declared dead in that “car crash”, and I was still alone.

My friends kept nagging me to move on. Even in my dreams, Vincent was there, begging me to stop living in the past.

So I finally caved and agreed to a blind date with Leo Christopher, the guy who’d been chasing me for years. I’d decided I’d make a clean break with Vincent once and for all on the Day of the Dead.

But the second I stepped out of the cemetery, a billboard for a luxury brownstone in Brooklyn Heights caught my eye. It was the exact place Vincent had been obsessed with back when I thought he was alive.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I was heading straight for it.

What I saw that day is seared into my brain for the rest of my life.

There, on the bench outside the house, sat Vincent. The man was laid to rest in the Castellano family crypt. And he had his arm around another woman.

That woman? Mia Rossi. The card dealer he’d been screwing behind my back six years prior. The same one I’d caught him red-handed with, the one I’d made him fire from the family casino.

The second our eyes met, a flash of panic crossed Mia’s face.

"Elena..."

Vincent, however, looked like he was fast asleep, relaxed and carefree.

Just then, the voices of Vincent’s consigliere, Sonny, and his men drifted out from inside the house.

"Vincent’s been married to Mia for six years, and Elena is still stuck in that 'he's dead' fantasy. She’s still single."

"I heard she agreed to a blind date recently. Guess she's finally letting go?"

"Not to mention, that whole setup was brutal. Back then, Mia sent him a spicy photo, and he rushed out in a downpour to get to Brooklyn, crashed his car, and Elena ended up thinking he died rushing to her birthday party."

"Elena’s tried to off herself multiple times out of guilt over it."

"Yeah, well, now that she's agreed to move on, I pulled the surveillance on her. Six years is a long time; she shouldn't be a problem anymore..."

They kept talking as they walked out the door. The moment they saw me, every voice died in their throats.

Sonny and the others were frozen solid.

That’s when the voice I’d missed for six years finally spoke up.

"What's wrong? Slept like a log..."

Hearing that voice, my breath caught in my chest, my heart skipping a beat.

Vincent rubbed his eyes and finally saw me standing before him.

His body went rigid, his pupils shrinking in shock.

I stared at him, a mocking and icy smile twisting my lips. "Vincent, you've been living pretty damn well these last six years."

Vincent instinctively shoved Mia behind him, his face a mask of embarrassment and shame.

Everyone else was frozen stiff, the silence terrifying.

Six years ago, everyone told me Vincent died in a car crash in a downpour, rushing to celebrate my birthday. By the time I got to the hospital, all I saw was Vincent covered in blood, and the top doctors coldly informed me they’d done everything they could.

Consumed by guilt and grief, I cried until I passed out at his funeral. When I woke up, Sonny told me the burial was already over.

It only deepened my guilt. For countless nights after, I couldn't sleep. I’d drive to the cemetery and stay there all night.

I even slit my wrists at his grave. It was only because the caretaker found me that I survived.

But I never imagined it was all an elaborate scam to fake his death.

I walked into the house and saw the photos on the mantelpiece. There Vincent and Mia were, standing together in front of a Sicilian castle. My eyes burned.

"Nice photos," I sneered.

Vincent had once told me there was a dealer at the casino with impeccable taste who was helping plan our wedding.

Once, when I was debating locations for the shoot, Mia had stood nearby and suggested timidly, "I think a Sicilian castle would be unique. Each one is one-of-a-kind, symbolizing exclusivity."

Vincent had praised her creativity back then.

But not long after, I found a pair of Sicilian blue sapphire earrings in his car, and a pair of lace gloves embroidered with initials.

Mia Rossi’s initials.

I insisted on calling off the engagement.

Vincent stood on the bell tower of the Castellano estate, half his body leaning over the railing.

"Elena, if you cancel the wedding, I’ll jump right now."

I caved, giving him another chance.

He fired Mia and tried to make it up to me.

And in the end, he "paid with his life" for me.

But now, he was alive and well, building a whole new life with the woman I thought I’d already cut out of the picture.

I laughed bitterly and hurled the picture frame to the ground.

Glass shattered everywhere. Mia let out a shriek.

"Elena!" Vincent shouted.

I laughed at myself, looking at him. "These six years, I’ve lived like a lunatic!"

Vincent, however, looked at me with pure blame. "Back then, I was going to kill myself, and you stopped me! I did everything you asked, but you just kept clinging to it, torturing me! Do you have any idea how exhausting it was to live like that?"

I slapped him across the face. The impact stung my wrist, and tears sprang to my eyes.

"Vincent, you were the one who cheated! You were the one who lied! How dare you say I tortured you? Say you were exhausted?"

Mia suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me, tears streaming down her face. "Elena, it’s all my fault. I seduced Vincent. He kept his promise to you, but I kept pursuing him. I’ll divorce him right now."

She clutched her stomach, her voice full of faux pity. "As for the baby... I’ll get rid of it."

Vincent grabbed her arm. "Mia, you're pregnant?"

My heart seized up, freezing me in place.

Mia pushed Vincent away and shrank back. "I just found out a few days ago. It won't be a big deal to terminate now. I'll leave with nothing. Just... make it up to Elena."

With that, she turned and bolted for the door.

Vincent’s face changed instantly, and he chased after her.

Instinctively, I blocked his path, demanding answers, but he shoved me away hard.

"Elena!" His eyes were filled with pure loathing. "No matter how much you kick up a fuss, it’s between us! Ever since you scared Mia six years ago, she’s had severe persecution delusions. She does crazy things when she’s triggered. Are you really so vicious you want to destroy her? If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive you."

His shove sent me stumbling backward. My neck landed on the shattered glass on the floor. Warm blood gushed out instantly.

As I blacked out, I heard Sonny and Vincent talking.

"Vincent, Elena is losing a lot of blood!"

"Call an ambulance. Dump her at our private hospital in Queens. Clean this mess up. Mia’s pregnant; she can't stand the sight of blood."

When I came to groggily, two nurses were whispering in the hospital room.

"Miss Rossi only had a minor scare. Mr. Castellano moved her into the top VIP floor and hasn't left her side, terrified she'd be upset."

"This patient... isn't she the one who... You know, six years ago..."

"Shh! Are you trying to die? She's fine. Let's get out of here."

As the door clicked shut, I slowly opened my eyes and laughed at myself.

I touched the gauze on my neck, tears sliding down my cheeks.

I wiped them away and struggled to my feet, ready to sort out the bills.

The moment I stepped outside, Vincent stormed out of the elevator, grabbed my wrist with bruising force, and snarled,

"Elena, what the hell is wrong with you? The fake death was my idea, Mia had nothing to do with it! Why are you smearing her online? She saw those posts and got so worked up she almost jumped off a building, do you know that?!"

His grip was like a vise, crushing my wrist.

I shook him off with all my might, shouting back, "Vincent, I didn't do any of that!"

He scoffed, shoving his phone in my face.

The screen was filled with vile rumors about Mia being a homewrecker. There was even a long exposé detailing how Vincent faked his death for her, deceiving his girlfriend for six years. It had even affected the Castellano family's underground business.

The media outlet that published it was owned by my blind date, Leo Christopher's family.

Vincent’s eyes were glacial, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Still denying it? The owner of that news site is the guy who's obsessed with you."

"Whenever it involves you, that news site is always the first to report it."

I stood there stunned, explaining with a mix of frustration and exhaustion, "I hadn’t had any contact with him before..."

"Don't you dare lie to me!" Vincent cut me off, his eyes full of disappointment. "Elena, how did you become so calculating? You used to be so kind. Now you're trying to drive Mia and her baby to their deaths."

He paused, his voice softening slightly, but every word was a dagger to my heart.

"Have you forgotten how painful it was to lose our child?"

I jerked my head up, locking eyes with him.

It felt like a blunt knife was slicing through my heart, tearing open a wound that had barely scabbed over.

I suddenly remembered six years ago. The day I found out I was pregnant, I had walked in on Vincent and Mia tangled together.

Back then, I knew he was cheating, but I hadn't confronted him yet.

I ran at him like a madwoman, but he shielded Mia and shoved me away hard. I fell heavily to the ground.

A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, and I felt a warm wetness between my legs. Our baby was gone. Right then and there.

Later, he staged the suicide attempt, the fake death, and my desperate compromise. It was all a sham.

I forced a bleak smile, my voice hoarse and broken.

"Vincent, your reputations are ruined forever."

"And you have no right to mention my child."

"Elena, shut your mouth!"

Vincent snapped, his brows furrowing. His eyes were ice-cold, devoid of any remorse.

"This is between you and me. Mia has nothing to do with it."

He leaned down, lowering his voice to a bare whisper, a naked threat in his tone.

"All these years, you've been killing yourself working, just to pay for your adoptive mother's heart surgery in Chinatown, right?"

"I heard they finally found a donor match?"

My heart lurched, and my blood ran cold.

I’d been an orphan since I was little. It was Selena, my adoptive mother, who took me in despite all the gossip.

She worked herself to the bone with odd jobs in Chinatown, scrimping and saving to raise me.

When I first got together with Vincent, I never let him drive me home.

I was terrified he’d look down on me and my family, just like everyone else did.

But when Vincent found out, his eyes had reddened with heartache.

He’d held me in his arms, stroking my hair, his voice choked with emotion.

"Elena, don't worry. No one will ever bully you again."

When he proposed, he hired the top planners in New York to transform the family vineyard into a lavish spectacle. It rocked the entire New York underworld, making me the envy of every woman.

He found the best cardiologist in New York for my mother and covered all the medical bills.

People who used to look down on me came forward to congratulate me, saying all sorts of flattering things.

I was so deep in it, I believed his love would last forever.

But then Mia tore that dream to shreds.

Yet, I never imagined he would use my mother's life to threaten me now.

Using my only weakness to win Mia’s favor.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony in my chest.

Despair choked me. I closed my eyes, tears falling silently, and whispered, "Fine. I'll apologize."

Vincent looked satisfied. He snapped his fingers, and Sonny handed me a piece of paper.

"Read exactly what it says. Not a word missing."

My hand trembled uncontrollably as I took the paper.

The entire page was a complete reversal of the truth.

It pinned all the blame on me, claiming I’d fabricated the story out of obsessive love and malice, even saying the reports of Vincent's fake death were just a delusion caused by my mental instability.

I had no way out. I could only swallow my rage and record the apology video according to his script.

When it was done, I was numb with cold.

Vincent glanced at the wound on my neck, pulled out his checkbook, and shoved a $5 million cashier's check into my hand.

He let out a deep sigh. "Here's five million as compensation. You should go now. Mia gets upset every time she sees you."

Then he turned and walked out of the ward without looking back.

I floated through the discharge process. The moment I stepped out of the hospital, my phone rang.

It was the executive director of the law firm I had founded.

"Ms. Elena, the board has decided to remove you from your position. Your severance has been transferred to your account."

I paused, finally managing to say, "I understand."

I hung up and scrolled through my phone. The apology video I had just recorded was already trending. All negative news about Mia had been scrubbed clean, not a trace left.

Immediately after, my phone pinged with several messages from Mia.

Photos of the VIP ward piled high with seasonal haute couture, jewelry, and limited-edition bags.

[Elena, look at this. This is just how he spoils me.]

[I'll tell you the truth. He comes to see me every single day.]

[He loves me, not you. Who's the real homewrecker here?]

[Oh, after you hang up this phone call, there's another surprise waiting for you. Stay tuned.]

Standing in the cold autumn wind, tears dripped onto my phone screen.

Just then, I got a call from my mother's cardiologist.

"Ms. Elena, your mother had a sudden cardiac arrest. It's critical. We need to operate immediately!"