Chapter 1

It was one in the morning when a frantic call from an unknown number woke me up.

The woman on the other end shrieked, her voice sharp and full of curses.

“You pathetic bitch! Did you call my husband ‘sweetheart’ just to flirt with him?!”

“Are you just spreading yourself around everywhere on your phone? Is your husband dead or something?!”

I couldn’t help but flinch.

I suddenly remembered that at lunchtime today, when I sent a package, I’d texted the delivery guy, “Hey there, are you still doing pickups?”

I never expected that this woman, not satisfied with her texts during the day, would call me in the dead of night just to unleash more abuse.

I forcibly suppressed my anger.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, I work in customer service. It’s just a professional habit, I swear. My apologies for any misunderstanding.”

I thought that would be the end of it.

But then she sent me a picture of her husband, his face black and blue, as a warning.

“I’ve dealt with my husband. You’re next.”

Sleep vanished immediately.

I’d never encountered anyone so brazen in my life. A surge of anger coursed through me.

“Ma’am, we live in a civilized society. You need to be responsible for what you say.”

“Don’t you dare give me that crap!”

She bellowed, cutting me off cold.

“Because of you, you little slut, our marriage almost fell apart, and now you’ve caused me to beat my husband! I’m telling you, you’re sending me twenty thousand dollars right now for emotional damages and medical expenses!”

“How much?”

I thought I’d misheard.

Twenty thousand dollars?!

I barely make two grand a month! All because I called a delivery guy “sweetheart,” and now they’re demanding twenty thousand dollars?!

I was livid.

“Ma’am, my conversation with your husband was less than ten words. This is extortion, do you understand?”

“Besides, your husband is old enough to be my dad. Why would a twenty-something girl like me be interested in him? I’d have to be crazy.”

With that, I immediately hung up.

Then, I blocked and deleted that psycho’s number.

But even after all that, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

The next morning, I saw ninety-nine missed calls on my phone.

And various nasty, insulting text messages.

I gritted my teeth in fury.

The unknown number called again. I answered, roaring first.

“If you’re sick, go get treatment! Stop acting like a lunatic every day, thinking every woman in the world is after your husband!”

The person on the other end was stunned for a few seconds by my outburst. When he recovered, his voice was just as arrogant.

“Blake! Are you just spreading yourself around everywhere? You called me ‘sweetheart’ because you wanted to flirt, didn’t you?! I’ve seen cheap trash like you a million times.”

“I’m telling you, a guy my age, Mark Peterson, has seen it all. I only love my wife, and because of you, you tramp, we’re fighting! You better get down here to the building entrance and grovel on your knees, begging for our forgiveness!”

This time, it was the delivery guy speaking.

My chest heaved with rage.

It was the first time I truly understood what they meant by “birds of a feather, I guess.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Mark Peterson, right? I already apologized to you two. It was a misunder—”

“Cut the crap with me! If you don’t come down, I’m coming up to kill you! So you can stop hitting on other people’s husbands!”

After he finished spewing his venom, he immediately hung up.

I was half-dead with anger.

As I blocked all his numbers again, my doorbell rang.

I thought it was the building management, responding to the commotion downstairs.

But the moment I opened the door, a huge, shirtless man lunged at me.