Ethan Cross sighed. "Does this woman seriously think I'm running a charity for strays?"
Sure, Claire Russell was a manipulative little snake in heels, but at least she knew how to flirt and keep herself looking good. Natalie Lin? All she had going was an ego and a warped sense of self-worth.
Still, for the sake of amusement, Ethan smirked and replied, "Oh? Is that so?"
"But I just ripped Claire apart. You two are supposed to be BFFs. Wouldn't it ruin your precious friendship if you got with me?"
Natalie's eyes lit up—she thought she had a chance.
"Oh please," she scoffed. "Friends? We're just roommates, nothing more."
Then, in full betrayal mode, she started unloading every piece of dirt she had on Claire.
"You have no idea how disgusting she is. She's too lazy to walk to the bathroom lately—says it's too cold. She pees in empty water bottles. Gross, right?"
"She acts all innocent, but she's out clubbing every weekend looking for guys. If she spots a rich one, she'll throw herself at him. When she runs low on cash? She sells herself. How else could she afford designer bags on a 5k salary?"
"She charges like 1500 a night. Total disgrace. I can't stand her."
This was the first time Ethan learned Claire had a…side hustle. He gritted his teeth. This world really was a dumpster fire.
Good thing he'd never truly fallen into her trap. Yeah, he'd chased her a bit, but he wasn't some pathetic simp like that idiot Kevin Zhou.
Natalie wasn't done. She spilled more tea, practically frothing at the mouth.
"Don't be fooled by the innocent act—she's had multiple abortions. Back in college, she lived off a bunch of sleazy contractors for four years."
Ethan silently recorded everything.
Natalie clearly held a long-time grudge against Claire. Maybe it was jealousy. Claire was prettier, flirtier, always the center of attention. Natalie had been the sidekick, the filler friend no one really cared about.
And let's be honest—no woman wants to be someone else's backdrop forever.
Once she'd vented enough, Natalie switched gears again, laying it on thick.
"Ethan, watching you chase Claire all those years? It killed me inside."
"But now, finally, I can tell you how I feel. Be with me, okay? I'll take care of you. Cook, clean, anything you want… we don't have to be lonely."
She didn't even bother hiding her real offer: let her into Ethan's apartment, and she'd be his personal toy, no strings attached.
Too bad Ethan wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole.
Instead, he sent the entire chat log straight to Claire.
Then he replied to Natalie, "I'm flattered… but let's not."
Natalie pressed again, desperate. "Why not? Don't you want a woman right now?"
Ethan forced down a wave of nausea. "I do like women," he said coldly. "But not when they're ugly as sin."
He muted the call and tossed the phone aside.
When Natalie heard the voice message, her face contorted in rage.
He'd called her ugly.
How dare he?! People online said she was a goddess every time she posted selfies—okay, heavily filtered ones, but still!
Just as she was about to explode, a shriek pierced the air.
"You f**king b*tch, Natalie Lin!"
Claire had seen the chat Ethan forwarded. She lost it instantly.
The two women lunged at each other like wildcats, clawing, screaming, pulling hair. They fought until they were out of breath, then just sat there, seething, glaring daggers at each other.
If it weren't for the sub-zero temperatures outside, forcing them to keep sharing the same roof, they might've tried to kill each other.
Natalie knew exactly who exposed her—Ethan. And she hated him for it.
But even more than hate… she envied him.
Same with Claire.
Because if Ethan opened that door and offered them food and warmth… they'd crawl on their hands and knees like starving dogs.
Meanwhile, Ethan was living his "boring" little life of obscene luxury.
Every night, he watched the news—something he never cared about before.
The latest headlines?
"Due to extreme weather conditions, Bayview City will begin scheduled power rationing between 1–2 PM daily. Only low-voltage appliances like phones and kettles may be powered during this window. All high-voltage usage will be cut. Please conserve electricity."
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
The power had been flickering for days now, never more than an hour, often just 10–15 minutes. The government was clearly doing everything it could to keep the public from freezing to death.
Most of the country's power stations had gone offline. It was only a matter of time before the lights went out for good.
But what caught Ethan's attention wasn't the content—it was the anchor's tone.
Gone was the sugarcoating. The official news channel was finally sounding serious.
Translation: They'd given up trying to hide how bad things really were.
Ethan checked the group chats. Chaos.
People were swearing, crying, begging, offering to trade everything they had just for a few bites of food.
The price of instant noodles had doubled—now 5000 dollars a pack.
Ethan shook his head.
Humans, in their desperation, still clung to the illusion of currency. They were trading food for money as if it wasn't already useless.
He said nothing, just observed.
At the end of the day, people were still clinging to life, any way they could.
Even if that meant crawling, starving, or selling their souls.