One year after faking my death, I was scrolling through an anonymous Q&A forum. [Question: What is the most ruthless thing you've ever done to get ahead?] The comments were full of petty office politics. I was about to close the app, bored. Until a familiar profile picture caught my eye. She claimed that with a simple trick, she ruined the life of the precinct's golden girl. [She was the Captain's fiancée and our best undercover agent.] [During the raid, I deleted her emergency distress signal.] [I even suggested the Captain go after the ringleader first, telling him she was experienced enough to protect herself.] [As a result, her cover was blown. She fell into the hands of the cartel and was tortured for seven days and seven nights. When she came out, her mind was gone.] [Later, with just one sentence from me, the Captain committed her to a psychiatric hospital.] [Last year, there was a fire at the asylum. I heard she didn't make it out and was burned to ash.] [And tomorrow, I'm finally marrying the Captain!] The comment ended with a smug smiley face emoji. Calmly, I liked the comment. Looking at the burn scars on my arm, I decided to give her a surprise tomorrow. 1 The post went viral, shooting straight to the top of the thread. Sophia’s comment was pinned, with thousands of replies underneath, mostly sycophants. [Queen behavior! That's playing the game on hard mode.] [This user is brilliant. Ruthless but effective!] [With skills like that, no one would dare mess with you at work!] Sophia, clearly high on the praise, posted a photo. In the picture, two hands were intertwined. The man's hand had distinct knuckles and a visible scar on the web of his thumb. That was Luke’s hand. Years ago, he almost severed a tendon blocking a knife for me. He said it didn't matter if his hand was ruined, as long as he could still hold mine. Back then, I cried and laughed, calling him cheesy. Now, that hand, which once swore to protect me to the death, was tightly gripping another woman's. The diamond engagement ring on their finger was designed by me. I had begged countless jewelers and revised the draft dozens of times to get it made. But the ring I had waited so long for never ended up on my finger. Funny how life works. Some people in the comments started to wake up. [Wait, the OP intentionally didn't save someone? This isn't just ruthless office politics; this is murder!] [That's a human life. Isn't the OP going too far? Bragging about this?] Seeing the tide turn, Sophia replied instantly with a "crying face" emoji. [Everyone misunderstood! The situation was urgent. I genuinely thought the signal was an accidental touch. After all, the location was in the middle of nowhere.] [If I knew she was suffering there, I would have risked my life to save her!] Then, she started her performance. [Besides, this became a lifelong pain for the Captain. I just wanted to help him move on.] [The dead are gone. I posted this to remind everyone to cherish who is in front of them. I didn't expect to be misunderstood like this...] A few sentences dripping with fake innocence, and she twisted the narrative back. [So that's how it is. Undercover work is high-risk; sacrifices happen.] [She was thinking of the bigger picture. Don't blame yourself, sis.] [Exactly. The living need to keep living. Helping the Captain heal is a good deed.] Reading these twisted comments, I let out a cold laugh. Just then, my phone screen lit up. A text message popped up. It was from Luke. [Tara, I'm getting married tomorrow.] [If you can see me from heaven, will you bless me?] Looking at the message, I felt a wave of nausea. Marrying the woman who killed me, while texting his "late wife" for peace of mind? I turned off the phone and tossed it aside. Luke, since you want a blessing so badly... Tomorrow, I'll deliver it to you personally. 2 Two years ago, I was the pride of the force and the love of Luke’s life. We were the envy of everyone in the Major Crimes Division. To take down a human trafficking ring that had been operating for years, I volunteered to go undercover. Luke disagreed at first and gave me the silent treatment for three days. He yelled at me, eyes red, "Tara, are you crazy? Do you know what kind of place that is?" In the end, I hugged his waist and pleaded, swearing I would come back unharmed and do all the housework for the rest of our lives. Only then did he relent, choking back tears. "If you lose a single hair, I'm holding you responsible." It took me six months to infiltrate the inner circle of the leader, Vargas. On the day of the raid, I broke into Vargas's core data center. On his computer, I found the complete list of victims and the distribution chain. I even found the location of a group of girls they hadn't moved yet. Hiding in the electrical room, I sent the signal to Luke on an encrypted channel. The moment it sent, I relaxed. I imagined that after the mission, we would get our marriage license and go on our honeymoon. However, the response I got was a cold laugh. "Officer Vance, leaving so soon?" I whipped around. The blinds were torn down violently, and a hand dragged me out like a dead dog. I was dragged into a tin shed, my hands handcuffed to a water pipe above my head. Pain radiated from my shoulder to my whole body, but I gritted my teeth and didn't make a sound. Because I knew Luke would be here soon. Luke said that as long as he received my signal, no matter how far, he would be there in thirty minutes. But I stared at the door. Thirty minutes. Two hours. A whole day passed, and the door didn't move. Vargas sat in front of me, legs crossed. "Looks like your Captain doesn't care about you that much, huh?" I spat out blood. "Don't get cocky. He'll be here soon. None of you scum will escape!" Vargas didn't get angry. He just ordered someone to pull out my fingernails on my left hand. I screamed in agony, cold sweat soaking my clothes instantly. The next day, Vargas had a TV brought in. The news channel was broadcasting: "Police dismantle a major criminal den, rescuing three hostages..." On screen, Luke looked dashing in his uniform. Sophia stood beside him in a decent dress, like a supportive wife, straightening his tie. They looked at each other and smiled, a picture-perfect couple. In that moment, my blood froze. That location wasn't Vargas's headquarters at all! "See that?" Vargas grabbed my hair, forcing me to look at the screen. "Do you still think he's coming for you?" I didn't believe it. Luke wouldn't abandon me. Something must have gone wrong. But Vargas seemed to enjoy my breakdown. He threw a phone at me. "Make a call. Consider it your last words." Trembling, I picked up the phone and dialed that number. Ring! It was picked up after one ring. Like grabbing a lifeline, I rasped, "Luke! Save me! I'm at..." "Tara?" The voice on the other end was Sophia’s sweet, cloying tone. My voice cut off. "Luke is at the commendation ceremony. He can't come to the phone right now." "You're really too much, sending a location in the middle of nowhere just for attention." "What, giving up on the mission? Trying to trick Luke into coming out to play some wilderness survival game with you?" Before I could explain, the call ended. My distress signal was treated as a ploy for attention by her. I closed my eyes in despair, the phone slipping from my hand. For the next few days, I lost track of time. To pry open my mouth and get the identities of other agents... They used every torture I knew, and some I didn't. Day four, day five, day six... I lost count of how many times I passed out, only to be woken by ice water for another round of pain. On the seventh day, while the guard was drunk. I used a broken toothbrush handle I hid under my tongue to saw through the ropes bit by bit. Dragging my broken left leg, I crawled out through a dog hole. 3 After escaping, I inched towards the highway down the mountain. Every inch I moved, the broken bones ground together, causing suffocating pain. Black spots danced before my eyes. My consciousness was on the edge of collapse. I don't know how long passed before I heard sirens in the distance. It was Luke’s convoy. My eyes teared up instantly. I knew he would come for me. Just seeing him, getting a hug like before, would make all this suffering worth it. I gritted my teeth, dragged my broken leg, and crawled desperately toward the light. Rounding the last corner, I froze. Searchlights illuminated the entire plaza. A celebration was being held on the giant LED screen. Luke and Sophia stood hand in hand in the center of the stage. Sophia smiled, shyly accepting an interview with the host. Flowers were everywhere; applause thundered. "Congratulations, Captain Luke! Not only did you destroy the den, but you also got the girl. Double happiness!" The host's voice echoed through the speakers. I knelt at the edge of the plaza, trembling all over. A female reporter noticed me. She gasped, and the camera instantly zoomed in on my face. Flashbulbs popped incessantly, blinding me. My clothes were tattered strips, barely hanging on my body. I instinctively raised my hand to block the light, but my arm shook so badly I couldn't cover anything. Luke noticed me. I reached out to him, lips moving, silently calling his name. I thought he would rush over, take off his jacket to cover me, and protect me like before. But he only frowned, a flash of disgust in his eyes. "Tara?" "You sent false intelligence, allowing the main suspect to escape, and you still have the face to show up here?" I froze. False intelligence? I opened my mouth to explain, but only a raspy wheeze came out. I shook my head desperately, my crippled hand waving wildly in the air, tears streaming down my face in anxiety. Sophia walked over then. With a look of perfectly practiced concern, she approached me. "Tara, how did you get like this?" Saying that, she draped a jacket over my shoulders. She was dressed revealingly underneath; I immediately saw the dense hickeys on her neck. Sophia noticed my gaze and smiled slightly. "Pretty? Luke did it last night." She leaned in close, lowering her voice. "While you were being tortured by traffickers, Luke couldn't keep his hands off me every night." "He said it would be better if a fool like Tara died, so she wouldn't cause trouble and delay his promotion." My blood froze instantly. Sophia finished speaking and let go. The jacket slipped from my shoulders, taking the remaining rags of my clothes with it. I was naked, completely exposed to every lens. Reporters snapped photos like madmen, thousands of eyes slicing through my dignity. Instinct drove me to grab the fallen jacket, but I touched the hem of Sophia’s dress. Sophia fell backward, collapsing on the ground. Her eyes turned red instantly, tears flowing on command. "Tara, I know you're jealous that I'm with Luke." "But this incident was your fault." "You deliberately sent the wrong location. If Luke hadn't been alert, we would all have died there!" The crowd was in an uproar. Luke strode over, shielding Sophia behind him. The love in his eyes when he looked at me was gone, replaced by endless ice. He took out handcuffs and locked them on my wrists. He said I was a deserter, a traitor, and he was taking me to the station for interrogation. Comrades who once fought beside me held down my shoulders. Under the public gaze, I was shoved into a police car like a criminal. 4 In the interrogation room, Luke sat opposite me. He rubbed his temples wearily, then looked up with red eyes full of disappointment. "Tara, why did you do it?" "You knew how important that operation was. Why send a fake location?" "Do you know that if Sophia hadn't warned me, we would all be dead?" I wanted to explain, but my throat was ruined, and my hands were crippled. My gestures were grotesque and laughable. Luke watched me, frowning deeper. "Enough. Stop acting." "Sophia told me everything. She said she picked up your call that day, and you cursed her." "She said you didn't want me to get the credit, so you sent false intel." Sophia again. I stared at him. Luke stood up irritably, pacing back and forth. After a long time, he stopped. "Tara, just sign the confession. Admit you were confused for a moment, and I can overlook the past." "You've been with me for years. I know you." His tone softened, even carrying a hint of pleading. "You just couldn't get over your jealousy and acted impulsively." "The whole precinct is watching. Just say the word, and I can keep you safe." Trembling, I grabbed the confession on the table and tore it to shreds in front of him. Luke’s face went completely cold. "Stubborn." Sophia walked in, linking her arm with Luke’s. "Luke, Tara is mentally unstable right now." "If the media films her ranting, your election for Chief next month will be ruined." "Besides, she keeps screaming that I harmed her." "If we don't control this, the precinct's reputation will be destroyed by her." She paused. "Why not send her to the psychiatric center on the south side?" "It's a closed facility. It will let her recover in peace and protect your future." Luke fell silent. He looked at me, his Adam's apple bobbing. He raised his hand as if to touch me, but his fingers trembled uncontrollably in mid-air before dropping weakly. "Tara, listen to me. Your mental state is dangerous. You need mandatory treatment." "I'll visit you every day. This is for your own good." I stared at the man I had loved for five years, my stomach churning. I struggled to stand up, wanting to rush out. But Luke just watched coldly, then subdued me easily with a takedown. A needle pierced my neck—a heavy dose of sedative. Before losing consciousness, I heard Luke holding me, saying: "Tara, be good. When you're better, I'll come get you." I stayed in the mental hospital for three months. Luke, who said he'd visit every day, never showed up once. Sophia, however, came every week, rain or shine. Every time she visited, she flaunted something new—from limited edition bags to couple rings—showing off Luke’s love for her. Sophia also bribed the orderlies to mix drugs into my food daily, torturing me in new ways. Late one night three months later, the hospital caught fire. In the chaos, I used a piece of wire I had hidden to pick the lock and escaped. Later, I heard that after the fire was put out, Luke knelt before the ruins for three days and nights. Crying like a child, fainting several times. I just found it utterly laughable. For the year I was "dead," I lived under a fake name, healed my body, and uncovered the entire truth. Now, it was time to take everything back. The next day, the wedding of the century was being held at the city's finest hotel. Luke wore a white suit, still handsome enough to turn heads. Sophia wore a couture wedding dress, smiling like a blooming white lotus. The officiant asked loudly: "Luke Sterling, do you take Sophia Miller to be your wife? For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health..." All the guests watched them with smiles. Just as Luke opened his lips to say "I do." I kicked open the heavy doors of the banquet hall. Wearing a black floor-length dress, I walked in slowly. Sophia glimpsed me, her smile freezing instantly. Her bouquet hit the floor with a thud. Luke whipped around. The moment he saw it was me, the color drained from his face. I tilted my head with a smile, and under everyone's shocked gaze, asked slowly: "Luke, are you sure you want to marry her?"
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