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The Ghost: The Woman Jamia: ‘Where are you?’ Irina: ‘Starbucks,’ I said. ‘I’m having a burnout staying at home, so I am writing my story here.’ Jamia: ‘Is that a love story?’ Irina: ‘Hmmm, not really, but almost a love story,’ I said and placed the straw trapped between my lips. ‘It’s a sad story, though not tragic.’ Jamia: ‘Uh, I don’t like sad endings,’ she said. ‘What are you drinking?’

I retorted while shooting him a small glare. “I know more than enough to know you don’t come from a wealthy family,” he countered as he continued to close the gap between us. Soon enough I found my back hitting the building’s wall, which caused me to flinch. “I also know your parents died in an accident a long time ago, so you’ve lived from carer to carer. No way do you have any dedicated person to fund you.”

His face is even more puzzled. If you’re wondering how casual currently we are, even though we ended last night on an awkward note, well… I explained it. Usually, in stories, they just skip to the next day/ chapter as if nothing happened, but NO. IT’S NOT LIKE THAT AT ALL. How I wish it was. I have to thoroughly explain EVERYTHING. Even the finger-partner part. Good heavens, they don’t know about that! Why? IT’S BECAUSE THEY DON’T DO IT! I can’t believe it. They go straight to the point; no foreplay! What a sad world this is…

He was Blake Andrews. And no girl—especially not Amelia Thompson was going to get under his skin but the funny thing was she wasn't even trying to get under his skin. He would try everything within him not to lose control but as he walked back inside, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was already losing control.

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I hadn’t opened in half a year. The group chat, “Happy Family”, now had a fifth member—Alisa. I scrolled through the chat history and saw Mary had shared a cheerful selfie with Alisa, tagging Sam right after. Mary: [Sam, how long were you planning to keep this from me? If Alisa hadn’t come over, I wouldn’t have even known you had a girlfriend. And she’s pregnant, too!] Sam: [Mom! Don’t post this in the group! What if Hazel sees it? Can we talk when I get home?!]

I hit **[END STORY]**. **The white void turned to black. The text stopped scrolling. The "Vance Legacy" was no longer an "Asset" for MegaNoel Corp. It was a memory. And somewhere, on a beach that didn't have a "Sync-Rate," a girl and a boy sat in the sand, watching a sun that didn't have a "Budget."**

In my previous life, I had read about it weeks after it happened, a collapsed empire, a CEO who had fought alone and lost, a company destroyed and absorbed by people who had been circling it for years. But I was a year earlier now. The collapse hadn't happened yet and I knew exactly how to stop it. I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the article. He had dark eyes and a llittle girl with a stuffed rabbit asking if I was okay. Marcus Donovan. I opened the article and started reading.

He stood with Lyra on a skydeck above the valley, cupping her flushed face as he kissed her like she was the only woman in the world. I looked at the post for a while, then left one comment. Wishing you both a long life, and the heir you wanted. After leaving the healing center, I did not go back to Blackthorn House. I went straight to the Moon Registry Hall. The registrar looked up when I asked for a bond-severance agreement. “For a claimed mate?” she asked. “Yes.” She slid a thin packet across the desk. “If the claim was made in public but never sealed with a mark, the bond can still be broken by agreement. Both signatures are enough.”

" The message was sent. A bright red exclamation mark appeared beside it. He had long been blocked. He didn't even have the right to have his blessing received. Three years later, Marcus Doakes was no longer a legend in the domestic business world. Without his drive and without the support of family, his mental state collapsed completely. Because of poor management, his company was swallowed by his partners. He went bankrupt. As for Clara, in prison, her terrible behavior and repeated fights added three more years to her sentence. Jacey, the child she had used as a tool to compete for affection, was sent to foster care and was no longer cared about by anyone. Karma arrived fast and ruthless.