Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
In my past life, I thought Julian was being sweet and thoughtful when he booked that medical checkup package, claiming he was worried about my pre-wedding stress.
I only had mild dizziness and fatigue, but he insisted that wedding prep was taking a toll and that I needed a full screening.
Then the lab report came back: "Suspected carrier of a rare genetic blood disorder." The doctor solemnly advised us to hold off on having kids.
I fell for it completely. The wedding was postponed, and I spiraled into a deep depression.
Julian took care of me hand and foot. My stepsister, Chloe, even moved in to "keep me company."
It wasn't until I overheard a hushed conversation outside my door that the brutal truth hit me: the medical report had been forged from the start.
Their real goal was to have Chloe step in as my "selfless caregiver," eventually usurping my position and taking over the massive fortune my father had left behind.
Devastated, I stormed in to confront them. But they dragged me down to the basement, locked the heavy iron door, and left me to starve to death in that damp, rotting dark.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back to the day of that checkup. Julian was standing before me, handing me that exact piece of paper with a look of pure tenderness.
I sat in the clinic's VIP lounge, the crisp lab report resting on the glass coffee table before me.
Julian sat right beside me, clasping my hands tightly. Concern was etched across his handsome face.
"Vivienne, hey, look at me. Don't be scared. It's just a suspected carrier gene. It doesn't mean you'll get sick."
"Medicine is advanced these days. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"
His voice was dripping with gentle warmth—a sickening contrast to the icy, venomous tone I remembered before I died.
I lowered my eyes. My long eyelashes hid the churning hatred burning inside me.
"Yeah. I understand."
My voice was soft, laced with just the right amount of trembling vulnerability.
Julian pulled me into his arms, softly stroking my back. He let out a sigh of relief.
"I'm so glad you're taking it this well, Vivienne."
"Come on, let's head home. I made your favorite chicken soup."
I nodded obediently and let him lead me up by the hand.
At the reception desk, he stepped away to settle the billing. I deliberately lagged behind.
I spotted a duplicate copy of the printed report sitting on the counter. The second the receptionist turned her back, my hand shot out.
In my previous life, Julian had snatched the report away before I could even read the cover page properly.
Looking back, he was terrified I’d look too closely.
I swiftly swiped the document and tucked it deep into my purse. My fingertips tingled with an icy resolve.
Whether it proved useful or not, this evidence couldn't stay exclusively in his hands.
On the drive back, Julian kept his eyes on the road while speaking in that sickeningly sweet, worried tone.
"Vivienne, given your condition, I don't feel comfortable leaving you home alone."
"I already spoke to Chloe. I told her to pack a bag and move into our guest room for a while. It'll do your mood some good to have your sister around."
He didn't even pretend to ask for my opinion. He just stated it as a done deal.
I leaned back against the car window, my face pale, my voice faint.
"Sure. But won't that be too much trouble for her? Doesn't she have classes?"
"Nothing is more important than your health," Julian said firmly, the picture of a devoted fiancé.
I closed my eyes and didn't utter another word.
Behind my shut lids, my mind was racing.
Julian. Chloe. Go ahead and start your little show.
This time, I won't be the naive fool you play like a fiddle.
The car soon pulled into the villa's driveway. Julian chivalrously opened the door for me, carefully supporting my arm the entire way inside.
The moment the front door clicked open, Chloe was already waiting in the living room.
She was dressed in a pristine white dress. The instant she saw me, her eyes welled up with tears.
"Vivienne!" She rushed over, wrapping her hands around my arm with exaggerated concern.
"Julian told me everything. How are you holding up? Are you in pain?"
The cloying, sweet perfume radiating off her instantly dragged me back to the stench of mildew and decay in that cellar.
I swallowed the fierce urge to shove her away and forced a fragile, sickly smile.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
Julian chimed in smoothly. "Chloe, go set your things in the guest room and unpack. Vivienne needs rest, and she needs you close by."
Chloe nodded right away, a flicker of triumphant excitement flashing in her eyes.
"Of course, Julian! I'm on it. Vivienne, take a seat and relax!"
Watching her eager, scampering figure, a cold smirk touched the corners of my lips.
While Julian headed into the kitchen to warm up the soup, I pulled out my phone and shot a quick message to Logan, my childhood friend and trusted corporate attorney.
*Look up the owner and shareholders of the Westside Health Center. See if they've had any recent malpractice complaints or scandals tied to their medical licenses.*
Once the message went through, I wiped the chat log clean and slid the phone back into my purse.
Julian emerged with a steaming bowl, tenderly urging me to take a sip.
I looked up at him, my expression dazed and frightened.
"Julian... why me? Why is this happening? I'm so scared."
Julian set the bowl down immediately, pulling me into a tight embrace, pouring endless sympathy into his words.
"Don't be afraid. You have me. I will stand by you forever."
Burying my head against his chest, I listened to the deceitful rhythm of his heartbeat. My soul remained dead cold.
Oh yes, you'll stand by me "forever."
Right until you bleed every last cent out of me, before throwing me away like trash.
In this life, let's see who ends up burying whom.Chloe settled into our house without hesitation, walking around like she owned the place while constantly pushing my boundaries.
"Vivienne, this blouse is way too dark. Sick people should wear bright colors to keep their spirits up!"
Without asking, she took it upon herself to clear out several dark-colored designer coats from my walk-in closet.
"Vivienne, the doctor said you need total bed rest. Let me handle these corporate files for you. You shouldn't stress your head over business."
Her hand reached out boldly toward the company binders sitting on my mahogany desk.
I pressed my palm firmly down on the paperwork, flashing her a faint, weary smile.
"No need. This company is my father's life work. Reviewing them makes me feel grounded."
Chloe's hand froze in midair. A flash of irritation flickered across her face, quickly replaced by faux sympathy.
"Alright, but please don't burn yourself out. Julian specifically told me to make sure you don't overexert yourself."
I lowered my gaze, putting on the act of an exhausted invalid.
"I know. I know you both mean well."
The second she shut the door behind her, I locked it from the inside.
My phone vibrated. Logan was calling. His voice was as sharp, calm, and professional as ever.
"Vivienne, I ran the search."
"The registered owner of Westside Health Center is a nobody named Mark Larson."
"However, the largest shadow shareholder, holding a forty percent silent stake, is Julian's maternal uncle."
"What's more, that clinic was slapped with an internal disciplinary fine last month for issuing falsified diagnostic paperwork. They paid off the board to sweep it under the rug."
My fingertips turned ice-cold.
"Logan, I need you to do something for me," I said in a hushed, crystal-clear tone.
"Draft a formal whistleblower complaint against Westside Health Center for issuing fraudulent medical diagnostics."
"State that their falsified reports actively endanger patient safety and lives."
"Draft it, but don't file it just yet. Wait for my signal."
"Vivienne, what's going on over there?" Logan’s instincts kicked in immediately.
"Nothing I can't handle. Just some garbage I need to clean up," I replied, not wanting to drag him into danger too early.
"Just do as I asked. Also, hire the sharpest private investigator you know. I need tabs kept on someone."
I hung up and stared out the tall window.
Julian, you thought you orchestrated a foolproof trap. Little do you know, every pawn on your board will become an ironclad piece of evidence against you.
That evening, Julian and Chloe lounged on the living room sofa, watching television, their laughter floating up the stairs.
I had retired to bed "early."
After a while, holding an empty glass, I tiptoed down the stairs and halted just behind the corner of the foyer.
"Julian, she's acting weird today. She wouldn't even let me touch the company folders," Chloe complained, her voice hushed.
"People get overly defensive when they're sick. Don't rush it," Julian consoled her.
"I already had Vance finalize the asset management power-of-attorney agreement."
"The terms are airtight. The moment she signs, full operational and executive control of her family's firm transfers directly to me."
"In a few days, I'll find the right moment to get her signature. Once that's done, I'll be calling all the shots."
"That's amazing!" Chloe gasped with greedy excitement.
"I've been sick of her high-and-mighty attitude for years. We're both daughters of the same household—why does she get the entire estate? My mom stayed with her dad for so long and barely walked away with peanuts!"
"Don't worry. What's ours will come to us, down to the last penny," Julian murmured, his tone turning sinister.
"Once the ink is dry, we'll pack her off to an overseas clinic to 'recuperate' and let her rot away."
My knuckles turned white around the glass in my grip.
I quietly crept back to my bedroom. From the hidden lining of my travel bag, I retrieved a miniature recording device no bigger than a thumbnail.
My father had given it to me before he died, warning me to stay vigilant against unscrupulous corporate rivals. Who would have guessed it would first be used on my fiancé?
I couldn't guarantee they would slip up, but in my past life, Julian always took late-night calls downstairs in the living room.
That was their unguarded hour.
Pretending to head down for some water, I silently wedged the micro-recorder between the seam of the sofa cushions.The next morning, as I descended the stairs, I feigned a sudden slip and tumbled down the lower steps.
Julian and Chloe screamed in alarm and rushed over.
The fall wasn't severe, but my forehead brushed against the banister, drawing a bead of blood.
I clutched my head, my face ghostly pale, my eyes unfocused as if suffering from severe shock.
"I feel so dizzy... everything is blurry..."
Panic flashed in Julian's eyes. He scooped me up into his arms.
"Quick, to the ER!"
On the way to the hospital, I slumped weakly against Julian's shoulder.
"Julian, I'm scared... What if something happens to me? What about my dad's company? I don't know how to run it..."
I felt Julian's body stiffen for a fraction of a second before he held me even tighter with synthetic warmth.
"Don't let your mind wander. I'm here for the business. Once you recover, I'll teach you everything step by step."
I looked at him with tear-filled eyes, playing the touched, devoted damsel.
"Julian, you're the best. I have nobody left but you."
At the hospital, the doctor ran a battery of scans.
Taking advantage of the moment Julian stepped away to pay the co-pay, I whispered to the attending physician:
"Doctor, along with the head trauma checks, I need a comprehensive blood panel and genetic screening done. Rush the labs, please."
The doctor looked a bit surprised, but nodded understandingly.
Exiting the exam room with a diagnosis of mild concussion, I caught Julian and Chloe whispering near the hall window.
They snapped their mouths shut the moment they spotted me.
Chloe hurried over, wearing an anxious mask. "Vivienne, what did the doctor say?"
"Nothing major. Just a mild concussion. A few days of rest should do it," I said nonchalantly.
On the drive back, I kept my eyes closed, saying nothing.
Julian assumed I was asleep and spoke to Chloe in the front seat in barely audible whispers.
"Her falling today is actually a golden opportunity," Julian schemed under his breath.
"We can claim she's disoriented from the head injury. Even if she senses something off when signing the papers, she won't have the mental clarity to object."
Chloe chuckled softly. "You're a genius, Julian. Look at how dependent she is on you right now. She swallows whatever you say."
Beside my leg, my fingernails dug deep into my palms.
The higher you climb on your own arrogance, the harder you will hit the pavement when you fall.
Back home, citing a terrible headache, I locked myself in my room all day.
Late into the dead of night, when the entire house was plunged into silence, I slipped out on bare feet.
I checked Chloe's door until I heard her faint, rhythmic snoring, then padded down to the dark living room.
Under the faint glow of the nightlight, I held my breath and fished out the metallic device from the sofa cushions.
Plugging in my earbuds, the past two days of clandestine conversations blasted through with sickening clarity.
"Why is Vance taking so long? Isn't the trust transfer ready yet?"
"Almost. He said he had to pack it with dense legal jargon to keep Vivienne from sniffing out a trap."
"She's practically brain-dead right now. What could she possibly suspect?"
"Tomorrow, go drop by her headquarters. Act like the incoming boss lady and get a feel for the territory."
"Great idea. I'll head over tomorrow and show those old fossils on the board who's really running the show from now on."
I quickly uploaded the audio files to an encrypted cloud drive and wiped the local storage clean.
The following morning, Chloe announced she was heading out to shop.
The second she drove away, I dialed Uncle Robert. He was my father's most loyal executive and right-hand man—utterly trustworthy.
I had already briefed him beforehand. He promptly dispatched a trusted technician disguised as a central AC maintenance worker.
With Julian and Chloe out of the house, the technician swiftly installed a micro-projector behind the giant oil painting on the living room wall, synced directly to my smartphone.
Julian had never paid attention to that piece of art. Soon, that very wall would become the canvas displaying their doom.
Once that was settled, I checked the clock. It was time to retrieve my rushed blood lab results.
Changing into a fresh coat, I hailed a cab straight to Metro General.
Clutching the expedited blood panel, I bypassed the regular desks and went straight to the Head of Hematology.
The department head studied my lab sheets, then peered over his glasses at me.
"Miss Shen, your blood work is immaculate. There isn't a single marker indicating any hereditary blood condition."
"Who told you that you were sick?"
I pulled out the duplicate copy of the forged Westside Health Center report I had kept hidden, sliding it across the desk.
"This report did."
The doctor took one look at it, and his brow furrowed with deep disgust.
"This is an absolute farce! The formatting and clinical terminology are completely unprofessional. Several figures are biologically contradictory."
"For instance, right here: platelet counts and coagulation factor activity could never realistically present these contradictory values simultaneously."
"It's a fake. And a shockingly amateurish one at that."
I nodded, a wave of cold certainty settling over me.
"Doctor, I need an official, legally binding forensic statement from you confirming this report is a forgery. And I'd like a complete, official physical examination on file."
"Consider it done. That is our medical and legal duty," the doctor stated resolutely.
When I got back home, Chloe had not yet returned.
I stepped into her guest room. Her suitcase lay wide open on the luggage rack, clothes haphazardly strewn about.
I pretended to tidy up, subtly sifting through her belongings. Tucked into an unassuming hidden flap, my fingers brushed against a small pill bottle.
The bottle bore no label whatsoever.
I unscrewed the cap. A faint, almost imperceptible chemical scent drifted into my nose.
I recognized that smell instantly.
In my previous life, before they tossed me into the basement, the soup Julian brought me every single day carried that exact odor.
After drinking it, a person would become lethargic, weak, and cognitively sluggish.
It was a slow-acting neuro-inhibitor. Long-term ingestion caused irreversible brain damage.
My stomach sank into an abyss of fury.
They didn't just want my wealth; they wanted to strip away my sanity, reducing me to a drooling vegetable.
Using a tissue, I carefully tipped out two capsules, wrapped them up, and slid them into my inner coat pocket.
Then, I placed the bottle back precisely where I found it.
Late in the afternoon, Chloe sauntered back through the door, beaming with arrogance.
The moment she stepped inside, she couldn't wait to boast.
"Vivienne, I stopped by your corporate office today! The board members were so incredibly polite to me."
"They all said that with Julian managing operations, you can just sit back and focus on getting better."
The smug triumph was smeared all over her face.
I stared at her, laughing coldly on the inside.
Polite? Those seasoned corporate sharks being polite to an uneducated, clueless twenty-year-old?
They were merely playing along to save face for Julian.
I put on a gullible, grateful expression.
"Really? That's wonderful. With you and Julian by my side, I have nothing to worry about."
My docile demeanor completely stripped away her remaining caution.
She even offered to massage my temples, claiming it would soothe my headache.
I leaned back on the couch, shutting my eyes, letting her manicured nails rub against my skin.
As she kneaded, she brought it up with calculated casualness:
"Vivienne, Julian mentioned that wrapping up your father's estate involves so much red tape. Mountains of papers requiring your signature."
"You're in such frail health right now. Running back and forth between lawyers will exhaust you."
"Why don't you sign a comprehensive power-of-attorney form? Let Julian handle the legal burden so you can just heal in peace, don't you think?"
The knife was finally drawn.
I snapped my eyes open. Clear, sharp, and blazing—there wasn't a trace of weakness in them.
Chloe's hands froze against my temples. In one fluid motion, I grabbed her wrist, squeezing so hard her face twisted in pain.
"Vivienne! What are you—"
"Don't call me Vivienne," I growled, my voice dropping to a dangerous register.
"That unlabelled pill bottle in your suitcase... did you buy it yourself, or did Julian hand it to you?"Chloe stared at me in stark terror, her lips trembling so hard she couldn't form words.
"V-Vivienne... what are you talking about? I don't understand!"
I stood up from the sofa, never breaking eye contact. "You don't understand? Let me make it simpler."
I closed the distance between us, step by step.
"The powder you've been slipping into my broth every single day—what is it? And that unmarked bottle in your bag—what's in it?"
Chloe stumbled back in sheer panic until her spine hit the wall. She had nowhere left to run.
"I didn't! Vivienne, you've got it all wrong! Why would I ever hurt you?!"
"Is that so?" I let out a low sneer, pulling out the tissue containing the two capsules and unfurling it right before her eyes.
"Are these yours, or not?"
The moment she saw the pills, Chloe completely shattered.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the hardwood floor, her eyes hollow with dread.
"It wasn't me! It was Julian! He told me to do it!"
"He said if we made you compliant, we could take over all the trusts and run away to Europe together!"
Without a shred of loyalty, she threw Julian under the bus.
I looked down at her sniveling form, my eyes void of any warmth.
"Good girl."
Right on cue, the front door lock clicked open. Julian walked in holding a sleek leather document folder, looking triumphant and refreshed.
The moment he spotted Chloe sobbing on the floor and me standing tall over her, his grin froze solid.
"Vivienne? Chloe? What's going on here?"
As if spotting her savior, Chloe scrambled across the floor, clinging desperately to the hem of Julian's trousers.
"Julian! Save me! She knows... she knows everything!"
Julian's pupils shrank to pinpricks. He stared at me in utter disbelief, his eyes darting between shock and scrutiny.
He regained his composure with terrifying speed, kicked Chloe away, and strode toward me with that practiced mask of gentle devotion.
"Vivienne, sweetheart, let me explain."
"Chloe is talking nonsense. Why would I ever hurt you? I love you!"
He reached his hands out to grab my shoulders.
I stepped back smoothly, dodging his touch, my expression carved out of solid ice.
"Love me? Is faking my medical reports an act of love?"
"Is having your little mistress drug me into early-onset dementia your idea of devotion?"
"Julian Vance, your love is truly one of a kind."
Every drop of color drained from Julian's face. The shock warped into raw, vicious hatred. He knew the charade was over.
"Vivienne Shen... how long have you known?" His voice was raspy, stripped of all disguise.
"From the very first second you took me for a fool," I replied evenly.
He suddenly burst into a menacing laugh, casting all restraint aside:
"So what if you found out? Do you have proof? You think your word alone holds up in court?"
He waved the folder in the air. "Even if you know, you're signing this trust transfer today. Whether you want to or not!"
"Oh, really?" My voice remained chillingly calm, completely devoid of the sickly fear he was accustomed to.
I stared right through him.
"All you ever wanted was my family's fortune, wasn't it?"
Before Julian could react, I snatched the remote control resting under the coffee table.
"Before I sign anything, why don't we enjoy a little entertainment first?"
As Julian gaped, the large oil painting motorized upward, unveiling the pristine projector screen behind it.
"Julian. Chloe. Before the ink hits the paper, let's take a look at something interesting, shall we?"
I pressed the button. The projector hummed to life, beaming a sharp ray of light across the room.
The first slide displayed an ultra-high-resolution scan of the forged diagnosis from Westside Health Center.
Right beside it was an official certification from Metro General Hospital, signed by the Chief of Hematology, declaring the previous report an outright mathematical and clinical impossibility.
Julian and Chloe's faces turned as pale as fresh ash.
And this was only the opening act.
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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