The Wife Rivalry

After I started dating Alexander Malon, I overheard his twin brother say:
“Come on, bro. Let me pretend to be you and mess with Mia for a bit.”
Alexander’s voice was casual. “Fine.”
I pretended not to know and dated the fake Alexander.
But when the real Alexander saw the marks on my neck, he went ballistic. He grabbed his own brother by the throat and snarled:
“Who the hell gave you permission to touch her?!”

1.
It was late. I had just stepped out of the shower when a message from Alexander Malon lit up my phone.
It was the address of an exclusive private club.
My grip on the phone tightened. When I didn’t reply immediately, another message came through:
“Don’t keep me waiting, Mia.”
I sighed and typed back, “On my way.”
I quickly threw on some clothes. As I left the bathroom, my stepfather was standing right outside the door, his cloudy eyes filled with a nauseating desire.
“All showered and still dressed so buttoned-up? Going out?” He took a drag from his cigarette and moved closer.
I took two steps back, putting distance between us. “Alexander is waiting for me.”
At the mention of his name, my stepfather froze, a flicker of fear in his eyes. I used the opening to slip past him and grab the doorknob.
“Shameless little tramp,” he spat from behind me. “Think you can use him to threaten me just because you found your golden ticket? You think I’m scared to touch you now?”
I glanced back at him, my voice cold. “Are you?”
Then I slammed the door shut, the sound echoing along with his curses.

2.
The club was dripping with luxury, its patrons all dressed in designer clothes that screamed wealth and privilege. In my simple hoodie, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
A hostess led me to a private suite on the top floor. As we approached, I could hear voices from inside.
“So, Alex, I hear this Mia girl is really good to you, huh?”
“Let me pretend to be you and have some fun with her.”
The suggestion was met with a chorus of whoops and jeers.
“Damn, Matt, you’re not even trying to be subtle about poaching your brother’s girl.”
“You don’t get it. That Mia is the real deal. Makes him soup, reminds him to take his medicine… Who could resist that level of devotion?”
“You think the great Alexander Malon would share?”
“Are you kidding? Alex and Matt are two peas in a pod. This isn’t the first time they’ve played a game like this.”
…
After the noise died down, Alexander’s deep voice finally cut through, laced with an indifferent amusement.
“Fine. Consider it my welcome-home gift to you.”
The hooting and hollering grew louder.
The hostess stood frozen, looking at me with an awkward pity.
As the subject of their little game, I felt nothing. I just smiled at her and pushed the door open.
My reasons for getting close to Alexander Malon were simple: I needed the Malon family’s protection. Protection from the bullies at school, and from my stepfather’s predatory gaze at home.
When a person’s life is hanging by a thread, all they want is a way to climb out. It doesn’t matter who is holding the rope.
In the end, all ropes are cast aside.

3.
The rich kids in the suite whistled when they saw me, their expressions a mixture of arrogance and lazy amusement.
I kept a gentle smile on my face as I walked toward the main sofa. Alexander and his brother, Matt, sat side by side, watching me with unreadable expressions. Like predators waiting for their prey to walk into the cage.
They had the exact same face. The same cool, pale skin, the same devastating good looks.
“Mia, you’re here.”
A hand reached out and pulled me down beside him.
I looked at that face and sneered internally.
Matt and Alexander may have looked identical, but their auras were completely different. Alexander was a storm cloud of dark, oppressive energy. Matt was a wildfire of wild, rebellious charm.
It didn’t matter to me.
I didn’t care if he was Alexander or Matt. As long as he could get me through my final exams and out of that rotten house, he could be anyone.
I took Matt’s hand naturally, as if I truly believed he was Alexander. He seemed pleased, lacing his fingers through mine before gesturing to the man beside him.
“This is my brother, Matt.”
I saw Alexander’s brow twitch at the title, but his expression quickly smoothed over. He gave me a small nod, as if we were meeting for the very first time.
I returned the polite greeting, then turned to Matt, my eyes full of affection.
“Alexander, I bought you some sobriety pills on the way here. You should take one.”
I had said this to the real Alexander many times. I always had something ready for him when he was drinking. After taking him home, I would even make him a warm, stomach-settling soup.
Matt looked at the pill in my hand, an eyebrow raised. “Alright,” he said with a grin. “But you have to feed it to me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alexander, a cigarette held between his fingers, unlit. He was lost in thought.
I brought the pill to Matt’s lips and watched him take it.

4.
After a few rounds of drinks, someone suggested a game.
“King says the Three and Six of Clubs have to kiss for thirty seconds,” one of the guys announced, waving the King card.
Matt and I revealed our cards at the same time.
“Well, look at that. A perfect match,” the guy said with a wink. He was a friend of the brothers and knew about the switch, playing along smoothly.
Matt cupped my chin, his face leaning in.
Just as his lips were about to touch mine, there was a loud thud.
The coffee table in front of Alexander had been violently kicked aside. He stood up, looming over us. “I’m done. Party’s over.”
Matt paused, inches from my mouth, the playfulness in his eyes turning cold. After a long moment, he let go of me and pulled me to my feet. “Right. I forgot you just got back today, Matt. Guess we’ll call it a night.”
He was still playing his part, looking at his brother’s thunderous expression.
As we were about to leave, I reached over and gently zipped up Matt’s open jacket. “It’s cold out. You just got over your fever, don’t catch another chill.”
As I said this, the real Alexander was standing right behind his brother, his eyes burning into me.
He had been sick just a few days ago. I was the one who went to his house to take care of him, coaxing him to take his medicine and making him soup and porridge.
“Mia, let’s go home.”
Matt froze for a second before wrapping an arm around me, pulling me into a light embrace.
As we walked away, Alexander, who had been silent, finally spoke.
“Mia.”
I stopped and looked back at him as if he were a complete stranger.
His brow furrowed, his voice deepening. “Who is it that you love?”
I lowered my eyes to hide the flash of scorn, then looked up at the man whose arm was around me.
“It’s Alexander,” I said, my voice clear. “The man I love is Alexander Malon.”
I felt Matt’s expression harden at my words, but he forced himself to keep up the act.

5.
Alexander Malon thought I was deeply in love with him.
Everyone around him thought so.
What they didn’t know was that it was all an elaborate lie, a performance designed just for him. A performance for survival, to crawl out of that sewer of a home.
If sickness hadn’t taken my father, I would have grown up surrounded by wealth and love. My mother passed away when I was very young, but my stepmother had always been kind to me. She would bake me sweet cookies, tell me stories, and cover for me when my father scolded me for being lazy.
I thought I would grow up happy.
But on my twelfth birthday, my father collapsed. He was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. A year later, he was gone.
I remember him in the hospital, holding my hand and wiping away my tears. “It’s my fault, Mia. I couldn’t even get you your twelfth birthday cake.”
“I won’t be here for your thirteenth. You won’t be angry with me, will you?”
I was crying too hard to speak, only able to shake my head through my sobs. I didn’t want a cake. I just wanted my father. If I could, I would have traded every birthday cake for the rest of my life to have him healthy and safe.
But the gods didn’t hear my prayers. The final bell tolled.
His last words to me were, “You have to live well, Mia. Promise me.”
From that moment on, a storm cloud seemed to settle permanently over my life.
My stepmother tried to invest what little money my father left, but she was scammed out of everything. Suddenly, I became her biggest burden.
My patriarchal grandfather wanted nothing to do with me. My maternal grandparents had passed away long ago. The only person I had left was the stepmother who no longer loved me.

6.
“What are you looking at? I’m not raising you. It’s your father’s fault for dying so young!” she screamed, shoving me aside before getting into a taxi without a backward glance.
Ignoring my scraped knees, I scrambled to my feet and ran after the car, crying. “Mom, please don’t leave me! I’ll be good, I won’t eat much!”
I don’t know how long I ran, but eventually, the car stopped. I saw my stepmother’s eyes, red-rimmed with a mixture of hatred and helpless resignation.
And so, we stayed together.
Later, she remarried. The man was ten years older than her. That marriage became my personal hell.
The very first night we moved in, the man used a key to open my locked bedroom door. When I ran to tell my stepmother, she slapped me.
“Don’t you dare spread rumors in this house! He was just worried you’d kick off your blankets. If you try to ruin my marriage, you can get out!”
After that, I barricaded my door with my desk every night. I’d stand by my bed, scissors in hand, staring at the doorknob as it turned, again and again. I’d wait for him to give up, for the sounds to fade.
School became my only sanctuary. No lecherous stepfather, no indifferent mother who let it all happen.
But that sanctuary became another form of hell after a mock exam.
I had just been celebrating my first-place rank when I was dragged into the girls’ bathroom and doused with a bucket of cold water. They held me down. I couldn’t fight back.
The ringleader was a beautiful transfer student. Her name was Isabelle Cavendish.
“It’s your fault, Mia,” she hissed, pinching my chin and looking at me like I was vermin. “Because of you, I came in second. Do you have any idea how badly I was beaten at home?”
A slap landed on my cheek. One of her friends started counting, each number a tick of a clock in an execution chamber. It was a long, agonizing wait.
When I told the teacher, all I got was, “Isabelle is an excellent student. She wouldn’t do something like that. When classmates have disagreements, you should try to be more understanding.”
That’s when I knew. It wasn’t that Isabelle wouldn’t do it. It was that the Cavendish family was too powerful for the school to dare to intervene.
As I left the office, I saw a boy walking down the hall, surrounded by a crowd of admirers. From the way everyone reacted, I could tell they were all afraid of him.

7.
When I got home, still in my wet clothes, I found the man who was supposed to be on vacation with my stepmother.
His eyes slithered over me like a snake’s tongue, making my skin crawl.
“Mia, what happened to you?” he said with a sickening smile.
“Don’t call me that!” I snapped, desperately searching for my stepmother.
“Looking for someone? She’s not here. She’s on vacation,” he said, rising to his feet. “I told her I had some business to take care of and that I’d meet her there.”
He walked toward me, step by step. I fumbled in my school bag for the new craft knife I’d bought.
“You’re getting more beautiful every day, Mia.” His gaze darkened, and as if he could no longer control himself, he lunged.
I slashed the knife across his forearm. Blood welled up instantly.
“You little bitch!” he roared in pain.
“Touch me again, and I’ll kill you,” I hissed. “I have nothing to lose.”
I shoved the knife back in my bag and ran.
I had lied. I had everything to lose. I had my life. I had promised my father I would live.
Suddenly, I thought of the boy I had passed in the hallway. I thought I heard someone call him Alexander Malon.
An idea began to form.

I started watching Alexander, gathering every scrap of information I could find.
I waited outside the bar he frequented for several nights until I finally saw him, drunk and alone, sitting on a bench outside. He was smoking, lost in thought.
I adjusted my school uniform’s name tag, making sure it was visible, then bought a piece of hard candy meant to sober you up.
“You look like you’re not feeling well,” I said, approaching him. “This is for hangovers. Do you want one?”
Alexander looked up, his dark eyes heavy. When he didn’t answer, I smiled, took his hand, and placed the candy in his palm. “Don’t worry, it’s sweet.”
He looked me up and down, then took a drag from his cigarette. “In a school uniform at a bar?”
My cheeks flushed. “No, I just… I was worried about you, so I came.”
He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “Following me?”
I feigned embarrassment and nodded. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to be sick from drinking.”
His smile was unreadable. “You like me?”
I bit my lip and nodded again. “Yes. I like you. And I’ll be good to you.”
His hand, holding the cigarette, paused. He stood up, closing the distance between us, and his fingers brushed against my name tag.
“Mia Jiang. Class Three.”
“I’ll give you a chance,” he said, his voice casual.
Before I could react, he kissed me.
Just as my lungs were about to burst, he pulled away. “Remember to breathe next time. Go home. And don’t come back here.”
Then he turned and walked back into the bar.
The shy, joyful expression on my face slowly faded. I wiped my mouth.
Then, a satisfied smile spread across my lips.
The plan was a success.

9.
The next time Isabelle Cavendish and her friends cornered me, Alexander appeared.
The door to the abandoned storage room was kicked open. He stood behind his bodyguards, his eyes radiating a glacial cold.
It was the first time I had ever seen Isabelle look so panicked and pathetic. She was forced to her knees and slapped, over and over.
“You don’t touch what’s mine, Isabelle,” Alexander said, pulling me into his side and looking down at her with contempt.
Yes. What was his.
To Alexander, I was nothing more than a pet—an obedient creature who would be good to him.
When he dropped me off at home, we ran into my stepfather, who was just returning from the hospital. Seeing me step out of a luxury car, he grabbed a handful of my hair.
“You shameless whore! Acting all high and mighty with me, and this is what you are?”
“Today, I’m going to—”
The rest of his words were choked off as one of Alexander’s bodyguards seized his wrist. He cried out in pain, his grip on my hair loosening. A second later, a kick sent him sprawling to the ground. He was beaten until he was screaming for mercy.
He spent the next month in the hospital.
I counted the days until my exams, playing the part of the devoted, loving girlfriend. I ignored Alexander’s flirtations and affairs with other women. I didn’t want his love.
Slowly, I became the person who had stayed by his side the longest. There were even rumors that he had developed real feelings for me.
Until today.
Today, they all realized that Alexander Malon was incapable of real feelings. In his eyes, I was still just a pet, something to be given away at a whim.
But I didn't care.
Because soon, I would be free of them all.

10.
“Mia, you’ve been spacing out this whole time.”
Matt’s voice snapped me back to the present.
I looked at the upscale apartment building in front of us and feigned confusion. “Alexander, did you move?”
Matt seemed annoyed by the name, his grip on my hand tightening. “Yeah. I have a lot of places.”
The moment we were inside, he pushed me down onto the sofa. “What were you thinking about just now, Mia?”
“I was thinking about what kind of soup to make for you tonight,” I replied sweetly.
A flicker of something soft appeared in his dark eyes. “Such a good girl, Mia.”
He took my hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist.
“Mia, who am I?” he whispered, his voice husky.
“Alexander. You’re Alexander.”
“Ow! Why did you bite me?” I suppressed a sneer and feigned pain.
His fingers traced the bite mark he’d left on my skin. “Mia, who am I?” he repeated.
I bit my lip. “You’re Alexander.”
“Ah! You bit me again!”
This time, he bit my neck, like a predator marking his prey.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang insistently, urgently.
Matt gritted his teeth and got up to answer it. “What are you doing here?”
Alexander brushed past him without a word and strode directly toward me.
“The game is over,” he said coldly, stopping in front of me and looking at his brother.
“This is no fun,” Matt said with a twisted smile.
Alexander didn’t waste any more words. He pulled me up from the sofa.
The bite mark on my neck was in plain view.
He froze. A storm gathered in his eyes, a terrifying, eerie calm before the tempest.
Before I could react, there was a deafening bang.
Alexander had slammed Matt against the wall, his hand wrapped around his brother’s throat.
“You forgot the rules while you were gone, didn’t you?” he snarled.
“Who the hell gave you permission to touch her?!”

11.
This was an Alexander I had never seen before—out of control, radiating pure, unadulterated rage.
Matt seemed surprised too. After a stunned second, a wicked grin spread across his face. “What’s got you so worked up, big brother? Weren’t you the one who sent her to me?”
“Don’t play the good guy now.”
The veins on Alexander’s arm bulged. After a tense moment, he silently released his grip.
Matt rubbed the red marks on his neck and waved at me. “Hello, Mia. Let’s reintroduce ourselves. I’m Matt Malon.”
There was no panic at being caught, no embarrassment for his deception. Just a casual, indifferent smile.
Alexander stepped in front of me, blocking my view, his eyes dark and unreadable.
I couldn't decipher his emotions, but I knew exactly what part I needed to play.
I looked up at him, tears welling in my eyes. My voice wasn’t accusatory, just a soft, wounded whisper. “Did I do something wrong? Are you throwing me away?”
I saw his shoulders tense, his Adam’s apple bob. A moment later, I was pulled into a warm embrace.
“I’ll take you home,” he said, his voice low and surprisingly gentle.
I’m through this round, I thought with relief.
Over Alexander’s shoulder, I saw the smile fade from Matt’s face, his dark eyes becoming bottomless pits as he stared at me.
As Alexander led me out, he glanced back at his brother. “I told you. The game is over.”
“Stay away from her.”
Matt leaned back against a table, his hands in his pockets, that rebellious smirk returning. “Can’t promise that.”
A corner of Alexander’s mouth lifted in a look of pure disdain. “You can try.”
Matt laughed, a picture of innocence. “Don’t be like that, bro. We’ve played this game before. You never cared.”
“Shut your mouth,” Alexander warned.
Matt raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Game over. It’s no fun once the secret’s out anyway.” He snapped his fingers in my direction. “Remember the name, Mia. Matt Malon. Don’t get it wrong next time.”
Alexander’s patience had run out. He pulled me into the elevator, done wasting his breath on his psycho brother.

12.
As we exited the elevator, a car pulled up.
Once inside, Alexander immediately raised the privacy divider, sealing us in the back. A sense of unease washed over me.
When his hand reached for me, I reacted on instinct, grabbing his wrist with a strength that surprised us both. My eyes were cold, my disgust for his touch unconcealed.
It was a self-preservation instinct, honed from years of living in danger.
In that silent moment, I realized my mask had slipped.
As I scrambled for a plausible explanation, Alexander spoke.
“What, are you afraid I’m going to hit you?” His voice wasn’t angry or suspicious. It was laced with a tired, helpless smile. “Have I ever hit you?”
I stared at him for a second, then shook my head and let go.
He pulled me closer, tilting my head to get a better look at my neck. “Let me see if he broke the skin. I might have to take you for a rabies shot.”
Hearing him call his own brother a dog, I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
I felt his hand freeze.
I looked up. His gaze had shifted from my neck to my face. He was just watching me.
I fluttered my eyelashes, feigning confusion.
After a few seconds, I heard him sigh, his fingers gently stroking my hair. “Mia, this won’t happen again.”
I put my mask back on, rubbing my head against his palm like the docile creature he knew.
After what had just happened, I decided it was safer to stick with Alexander as my rope. Matt and his brand of crazy were far too unpredictable.

13.
Alexander dropped me off at home that night. The next day, a diamond necklace was delivered to my door as compensation. Then, silence.
I knew the drill. Whenever I caught him with another girl, he would send an expensive gift. Like tossing a treat to a pet, a simple offering to smooth things over.
I hid the jewelry away with the rest, planning to sell it all for a nest egg before I left.
My thoughts were on my future as I handed in my school transfer application.
“Mia, the college entrance exams are next semester. Are you sure you want to transfer after this term?” my homeroom teacher asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
I nodded. “My uncle has already spoken with you about it. The school I’m transferring to is excellent. They’ve reviewed my grades and competition scores and have already accepted me.”
“My uncle feels that as my only remaining relative, he can take better care of me if I’m closer.”
“And as you know, my stepmother and her husband… they don’t really look after me.”
The teacher didn’t argue. She knew no one had ever come to my parent-teacher conferences. My step-parents’ numbers were always unreachable.
After leaving her office, I ducked into a restroom and called back the number that had been trying to reach me.
After a short ringtone, a sleazy male voice answered. “Hey, Mia, I got that transfer sorted for you. When are you sending the money?”
A cold smile touched my lips. This was my uncle. When my father was alive, he was always sucking up to him. The moment my father got sick, he cut all ties. When I had nowhere to go, he told me to get lost.
“You’re not trying to back out, are you? Do you know how many strings I had to pull for you?”
“If Kevin wasn’t in such a hurry for the money, I wouldn’t have bothered with your mess.”
Kevin, my uncle’s useless son, had gotten into a fight and needed money to pay for damages.
“If you hadn’t bothered,” I said with a sneer, “your son would be in jail. Don’t try to act high and mighty with me. I’ll send the rest of the payment when I feel like it.”
I hung up, cutting off his string of curses.
Sunlight streamed into the quiet restroom. Dust motes danced in the light, spiraling upwards, as if chasing freedom.
Just like me.

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