Girl Coveted 1

 

Chapter 1 

During dinner, I browsed a popular forum where a trending post caught my eye: 

“The woman funding my education is kind, but I want to marry her husband and replace her. Any foolproof 

methods?” 

I clicked the top comment: 

“Create dependency. First, offer to cook and clean at her house to show you’re the perfect homemaker.” 

“Then, arrange to stay overnight-say the dorms are locked. Wear something subtle. Wake up early and make 

breakfast.” 

“Key step: Pretend to be drunk. Cry about being alone. See if he hugs you out of pity.” 

The manipulative advice sickened me. 

I looked up at Ivy Chen, the girl I sponsor, sitting across from me. She sweetly placed food on my plate. “You 

have to try this, Mary! I should cook for you more often!” 

She suddenly put down her chopsticks, eyes shining. 

“My dorm has such an early curfew… Next time I clean your house, if it’s late, could I stay over?” 

1 

I was stunned for a moment. 

Then I asked her, “Why the sudden request to stay over? I haven’t heard you mention any issues with you 

dorm before.” 

“Besides, the guest room hasn’t been tidied in a while. It might not be very comfortable for a sudden stay,” 

said, instinctively glancing at my husband, who was eating quietly beside me. 

I had been sponsoring Ivy’s education for four years, from high school through college. 

Whenever she’d come over for dinner in the past, she was always impeccably polite, always taking her leave right after the meal, never overstepping any boundaries. 

This sudden request was deeply out of character. 

Hearing my hesitation, Ivy immediately turned to my husband, Marcus, her expression a carefully crafted mask of grievance and dependence. Her voice was soft and pleading. “Marcus, it’s… it’s my new roommate. I don’t think she likes me. She’s always trying to exclude me, and if I get back late, they won’t open the door… I really had no other choice but to ask you and Mary for help…” 

As she spoke, she shot a timid glance back at me. “Just for one night, I promise. I’ll be on my best behavior. I can even help you clean the house!” 

My suspicions lessened slightly, but I was still hesitant. It took me a moment to respond. “Well… Marcus 

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would have to agree to it as well.” 

I tossed the decision into his court. 

At my words, a flicker of triumph, almost imperceptible, flashed in Ivy’s eyes. She turned to my husband with an expectant look. 

Marcus put down his fork and knife, offering a gentle but distant smile. “Ivy, if you’re having problems in the dorm, you should report them to the university. Having a guest stay over unexpectedly would disrupt Mary’s rest. It’s not very convenient for us.” 

His refusal was what I expected. He has always valued our privacy and my comfort above all else. 

Disappointment and embarrassment instantly washed over Ivy’s face. She lowered her head and mumbled 

“I’m sorry, Marcus. I wasn’t thinking. It was too much to ask…” 

“. 

The way she acted would make anyone think I was being unreasonable. 

Just then, that nagging feeling of unease returned, stronger this time. 

Staying the night? 

Her reaction after being rejected? 

This scenario… how was it so eerily similar to the “play the victim to gain sympathy after being rejected” tact 

ic predicted in that forum post? 

My gaze sharpened as I looked at Ivy’s crestfallen face. 

A terrifying thought shot through my mind. 

Could it be… could the person who wrote that post actually be her? 

But I dismissed the thought a second later. 

I’d watched Ivy grow up. She came from a poor family but was hardworking and ambitious. She was a simple girl. How could she possibly harbor such deep-seated malice and cunning? 

I was letting the internet get to me, on the verge of misjudging a helpless young woman. 

I was about to say something to ease the tension. 

Just then, Ivy, seemingly flustered by the rejection, hastily stood up to clear my plate in a gesture of appeas- 

ement. 

As she reached for the soup bowl in front of me, the wide sleeve of her loose-fitting blouse fell away from 

her arm. 

And in that split second, I saw it clearly- 

On her slender wrist was an incredibly familiar platinum bracelet. The charm was a small, elegant star and 

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Chapter 1 

moon. 

It was the gift my husband had given me for my birthday last month! 

I had complained at the time that his taste was a bit basic, wore it only once, and then put it away in my jew- elry box. Later, I couldn’t find it anywhere! 

He’d just said I must have misplaced it and promised to buy me a better one next time. 

I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. The blood in my veins seemed to freeze, my hand holding my fork hov ering motionless in mid-air. 

Could it be… 

That the bracelet was never lost at all?! 

And now, here it was, on Ivy’s wrist, hidden so carefully under her sleeve like a cherished secret. 

Was she really the one who wrote that post, the one who wanted to take my place?! Was she and my husba 

nd…