The Match Maker

I have a little-known identity in my circle — I'm a match maker. My master says I can use ancient methods to make two people lifelong spouses. That afternoon, I was making coffee in the company break room when a message suddenly popped up. It was from my phone only used for match making work. The profile picture looked familiar — Mindy Lincoln, my cousin's daughter. She didn't bother with small talk, just went straight to the point: "Please help me be with Yale Gabriel." I froze, coffee cup halfway to my lips, the warmth in my fingertips instantly gone. Yale Gabriel is my boyfriend of two years. I opened the file she sent; inside, it clearly showed her and Yale Gabriel's birth dates and times. I stared at the screen for half a minute, then slowly typed, "You know the rule—making a match only works if both people are into love." "Of course!" she replied instantly, attaching an ultrasound photo. "Yale and I have been together for three years, I'm already pregnant with his child. As long as you can make the match happen, I'll pay whatever it costs." I looked at that ultrasound and suddenly burst out laughing. Three years? I've been with Yale for two years, and just last month he was even talking about getting married next year. "I'll take the job." I replied to her. Then I added, "Three million, not a cent less." Mindy replied almost instantly, "I see! But can you give me two extra days? I promise to have the money transferred then." "Okay." I agreed without hesitation. I put down my phone, but doubts started creeping in. Mindy's just an ordinary office admin, making a bit over eight thousand a month—where on earth would she get three million? Before I could figure it out, my another phone for private use rang. The caller ID showed "Mindy." I picked up, her voice buzzing with excitement: "Bella, where are you?" "At the company." I answered coolly. "You seriously need to sell that old house your mom left you!" She rattled off fast, like she was scared I'd back out. "My company just kicked off an overseas project—it promises a 30% return in six months. Opportunities like this don't come around twice!" I clenched the phone tighter, and the corner of my mouth twitched against my will. So she's basically trying to scam my house to scrape together that three million ‘matchmaking fee'? First she hooked up with my boyfriend, and now she wants to swallow up the inheritance Mom left me. She's really out here playing chess with people's lives. "Not for sale." I just flat-out refused. "Are you crazy?" Mindy Lincoln's voice shot up instantly, dripping with frustration, "The house is just sitting empty anyway. Wouldn't it be smarter to sell it and invest the money?" "No need, thank you." After that, I hung up immediately. Mindy and I grew up together, and she always loved to compete with me. Grades, looks, whose clothes were more expensive—you name it. But every time, she just couldn't beat me. Behind my back, she'd always say I was "lucky" or "had family connections." I'd known she felt bitter about it, but I never expected her to go this far. After hanging up, I messaged my assistant: "Look up Yale Gabriel's recent whereabouts. The more details, the better." Outsiders all think I'm just a regular office worker doing admin at the company where Yale Gabriel works. No one knows that the company was actually founded with my investment five years ago, and I'm the hidden majority shareholder. Over the years, by making matches for people, I've saved up more than enough money to live comfortably. I originally planned to confess my identity after marrying Yale Gabriel, then completely give up the Matchmaking Arts—once the secret's out, this skill becomes useless. But now it looks like these past two years of my love life have been one big joke. At 5:30 in the afternoon, I'd just finished packing up and was about to leave work when my dad called. "Bella, come straight home after you finish work. Mindy Lincoln is here, and Yale Gabriel is with her." I held my phone tight and snorted coldly inside my head. Of course, Mindy had brought reinforcements to my place.