Author: Momo Chan

A month into my freshman year, I learned that the entire campus had a nickname for me: the Parasite. The name was coined by Sophia, my childhood best friend’s new deskmate. It was because I was always with Liam. Eating the breakfast he brought me, using his campus card, living in a small rental near his family’s home. I asked Liam why he didn’t stop them. He just laughed, a careless, easy sound. “It’s just a nickname. Sophia likes to joke around, don’t take it to heart.” He paused, then added, “Besides, you do cling to me all day. You are… kind of like a parasite.” I froze, my heart clenching as if squeezed by a brutal hand. So that’s what it was. Eighteen years of companionship, and in his eyes, I was just a parasite. I didn’t argue. I just went home and deleted every photo of him from my phone. Then I went to the registrar’s office and withdrew from the university. That’s when Liam finally panicked. “Ava, where are you going?” “Somewhere you will never find me.” 1 I first heard the name while standing in line at the dining hall. It was a normal Wednesday. I held my tray, shuffling along with the lunchtime crowd. The two girls in front of me were whispering, their voices just loud enough for me to catch. “Look, the Parasite’s here again.” “She follows Liam around all day. Has she no shame?” At first, I thought they were talking about someone else. Then one of them glanced back, her eyes lingering on me for a moment before a knowing smile spread across her face. It was a look I recognized—the look of someone enjoying a spectacle, of someone who knew a secret I didn’t. My fingers tightened on my tray, the plastic edge digging painfully into my palm. Parasite? Were they talking about me? I looked around and realized that many people were watching me. Some were whispering, their fingers subtly pointing in my direction. Others were smirking, their eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and contempt. My face instantly burned. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. I grabbed my food and fled to the most secluded corner I could find. But I’d barely taken two bites when the conversation from the next table drifted over. “Ava Moore is so disgusting, always clinging to Liam.” The girl’s voice was loud, as if she didn’t care that I was right there. “I heard her family is dirt poor, and the Griffiths have been supporting her forever,” another voice added. “No wonder Sophia calls her the Parasite. It’s the perfect name.” “Seriously. I’ve never seen anyone so shameless.” My hands started to tremble. My chopsticks clattered onto the table. The girls looked over, and seeing it was me, they didn’t stop. They just laughed louder. “Oh, look. The Parasite is mad.” “What’s she pretending for? It’s not like we’re wrong.” I clenched my jaw, trying to hold myself together, but my hands were shaking too badly to even hold my chopsticks. The food tasted like ash. I finally gave up, picked up my nearly untouched tray, and hurried out of the dining hall, the sound of their laughter washing over me like a toxic wave. 2 I went to find Liam immediately. He was on the basketball court, glistening with sweat under the afternoon sun. Sophia was sitting on the bleachers, a vision in a white sundress, holding a bottle of water and cheering for him. When she saw me, her smile was blindingly bright. It was the smile of a cat that had just cornered a mouse. “Ava! You’re here! Come, sit,” she chirped, patting the space next to her. I ignored her, my eyes locked on Liam. He had just sunk a three-pointer, and his teammates were celebrating. “Liam, I need to talk to you.” My voice was quiet but carried across the court. He turned, a slight frown creasing his brow when he saw me. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he sounded annoyed. “What is it? Can it wait until I’m done?” “No. It has to be now.” I had never used such a forceful tone with him before. It surprised even me. Liam stared for a moment, clearly taken aback by my uncharacteristic firmness. Finally, he said something to his teammates and sauntered over. “What’s up? You look so serious.” His tone was light, as if he had no idea what was coming. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “The entire school is calling me a parasite. Did you know?” He scratched his head, a flicker of awkwardness in his expression. “Oh, that. Yeah, I heard.” He heard? That was it? I stared at him in disbelief, waiting for an explanation, for a flash of anger on my behalf. But there was nothing. He just stood there, looking completely unconcerned. “You heard, and you didn’t do anything to stop it?” my voice began to tremble. “Stop what?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just a nickname. Everyone gets a nickname in college.” He even managed a small laugh, as if it were truly insignificant. “My roommate’s nickname is ‘Pig-Head,’ and he doesn’t care.” “But this nickname is meant to humiliate me!” I almost shouted the words. “You’re overthinking it.” He patted my shoulder, a gesture so dismissive it sent a chill through me. “Sophia just likes to joke around. She doesn’t mean any harm.” No harm? I glanced over at Sophia. She was watching us, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Liam, do you really think calling me a parasite is just a joke?” My voice was a whisper, as if I were asking myself. He was losing patience. “Come on, stop making a big deal out of nothing. Besides,” he trailed off, “you do follow me around all day. It is… kind of like…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Kind of like a parasite. In that moment, I felt something inside me shatter. It broke so completely that I knew it could never be put back together again. 3 From that day on, I started avoiding Liam. But the nickname had already spread through the campus like a virus. It had taken on a life of its own. In class, I’d hear whispers behind my back. “That’s her, the Parasite.” At the library, someone would say loudly, “Wow, even parasites can read.” Even the woman at the campus store would give me a strange look, as if I were something unclean. But the worst part was the dorm. My roommates, who had once been friendly, began to distance themselves. At first, it was subtle—they just stopped talking to me. Then it became blatant. They stopped inviting me to meals. They stopped sharing snacks. Even borrowing a phone charger became an ordeal. “I’m using it.” “It’s dead.” “Someone else borrowed it.” Always an excuse. One evening, I came back late. As I pushed the door open, I heard them talking on the balcony. “Does Ava really use Liam’s money for everything?” “Probably. Why else would Sophia call her a parasite?” “She’s so poor. Where does she get money for tuition and living expenses?” “Liam, obviously.” “No wonder she can afford to live near his family. So that’s how.” “So shameless. If I were her, I’d be too embarrassed to show my face.” I stood in the doorway, my hand frozen on the knob. They saw me, and the conversation died. They scattered back to their desks as if nothing had happened. No one asked where I had been. No one cared that I had heard everything. It was as if I were invisible. Lying in bed, tears streamed silently into my pillow. They didn’t know I lived near Liam because the little house was left to me by my grandmother. “Ava, honey,” she’d told me, “it’s not much, but it’s a roof over your head. A place to weather the storms.” They didn’t know that I never spent a cent of Liam’s money. I kept a small notebook, recording every breakfast, every campus card loan, every small expense he covered for me. The first thing I did when I got paid from my part-time job was try to pay him back. He would always refuse. “Why are you keeping track? We’re family.” I thought it was because he cared. Now, I wondered if it was just because he couldn’t be bothered. But it didn’t matter anymore. In everyone’s eyes, I was the parasite living off a man. The truth was irrelevant. They only believed what they wanted to believe. 4 I tried to defend myself. In one of my classes, we were assigned a group project. When it was time to form groups, a strange silence fell over the room. Everyone else was pairing up, but a perfect, empty circle formed around me. I was an outcast. I mustered my courage and approached a girl who seemed friendly. “Hi, can I join your group?” She looked away, flustered. “Sorry, our group is full.” I counted. There were only three of them. “I have really good grades,” I pleaded, trying to prove my worth. “I was third in our major last semester.” A boy nearby snorted. “What good are a parasite’s grades? Liam probably did all the work for her.” The classroom erupted in laughter. The sound was like a thousand needles piercing my skin. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. That’s when Sophia’s gentle voice cut through the noise. She had drifted over, her face a mask of perfect sympathy. “Everyone, don’t be so hard on Ava. It’s… not easy for her.” She paused, a smirk touching her lips. “After all, not everyone has the talent to be supported by Liam for so many years. That’s a skill in itself, you know.” The whole class roared. Finally, the professor, looking annoyed, stepped in. “Ava, you can join group three.” The members of that group looked horrified, but they didn’t dare object. Throughout the entire discussion, they ignored me completely. My suggestions were met with silence. The research I’d compiled was pushed aside without a glance. Eventually, I gave up and just sat there, watching them, feeling more invisible than ever. No, worse than invisible. I was a nuisance. A parasite. 5 Things escalated a week later. “Ava,” one of my roommates said one morning, her voice dripping with glee, “you should check the campus message board. You’re famous.” My heart sank. I opened the forum on my phone. The top post was titled: ‘Exposing the True Face of the Management School’s Parasite.’ It had over ten thousand views and hundreds of replies. My fingers trembled as I clicked on it. The post chronicled in vicious detail how I “latched onto” Liam, how I “shamelessly” spent his money. Every action was twisted, every moment maliciously reinterpreted. There were photos. A picture of us eating together was captioned, “The Parasite gets a free meal.” A photo of him bringing me breakfast when I was sick was labeled, “The bloodsucking continues.” A picture of me working at my part-time job was framed as me “playing the victim to gain sympathy.” The comments were a cesspool. So disgusting. Has she no self-respect? If I were her, I’d have already killed myself from shame. Liam is so unlucky to be stuck with a leech like her. Someone should kick the Parasite out of our school! Then it got worse. They started doxxing me. My high school, my home address, even a photo of my late grandmother. So she’s an orphan with no parents. No wonder she’s so shameless. My blood ran cold. I shakily called Liam. The phone rang for a long time before he picked up. “Liam, did you see the post on the forum?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah, I saw it,” he said, his tone chillingly calm. “And… you’re not going to do anything?” “Do what?” He sounded tired. “Ava, do you really think anyone will believe me if I try to clear your name now? They’ll just think you forced me to.” “But it’s the truth!” “The truth?” He laughed, a cold, empty sound. “The truth is, you are always with me. You do use my things. I can’t control how other people see it.” I gripped the phone. “So you’re just going to let them humiliate me?” “It’s not humiliation, it’s just a post,” he said, his tone infuriatingly dismissive. “It’ll blow over. Why are you getting so worked up about something online?” “Just lay low for a while.” The line went dead. I stared at the black screen, at my own pale, reflected face. So this was it. My reputation, my dignity—none of it was worth him saying a single word. Our entire childhood together was this cheap. My heart didn’t just break. It turned to ash. 6 The bullying bled from the virtual world into reality. Vicious notes started appearing on my desk. PARASITE GET OUT. SHAMELESS BITCH. STAY AWAY FROM LIAM. My books were vandalized. My favorite textbook, filled with a semester’s worth of notes, was soaked in ink. My homework was torn out of my notebook. I was forced to accept a zero. The isolation was absolute. No one would speak to me. No one would sit with me. If I sat at a table in the dining hall, everyone else would immediately get up and leave. I would sit there alone, surrounded by whispers, forcing down food that tasted like cardboard, my tears silently seasoning my rice. I started skipping classes. But the dorm was no sanctuary. The harassment from my roommates grew bolder. They used my shampoo, ate my food, and one day, they threw my bedding into the hallway. “Parasites belong outside,” the ringleader sneered, as the others laughed. I stood in the hallway, clutching my soiled comforter, as people walked by, staring. No one helped. No one said a word. That night, I crouched in the hallway and cried until my throat was raw and my eyes were swollen shut. I wanted to call Liam. My thumb hovered over his name, but I couldn’t press it. What would be the point? He would just tell me it was a joke. He would just tell me I was overthinking it. He would just tell me it would all blow over. But how long did I have to wait? A month? A year? A lifetime?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393586”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Everyone knew Alistair Vance, New York’s ruthless tycoon, adored his late wife. After her fatal crash, his hair turned white overnight—and his relationship with his son soured into hatred. When he finally agreed to remarry, I was a candidate. While others served gourmet dishes, I offered Gorgonzola-stuffed olives. While they played concertos, I did Tai Chi. And when asked about Alistair? “You have a mole on your left butt cheek.” That night, I was chosen. Alistair pressed a gun to my temple. “Who sent you?” I glanced sideways—where his dead wife’s ghost was shrieking: “That’s impossible! My intel was perfect!” Lies. She’d also called him “a softie underneath.” 1 The moment the cold barrel of the gun pressed against my temple, I’ll admit it: I was terrified. “Wait!” I cried, shamelessly kneeling on the marble floor. “Mr. Vance, you’ve got the wrong idea!” Alistair tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. His wrist twitched, and the gun pressed harder against my skin. “The wrong idea?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “I’ve clawed my way to the top of this city for decades. Do you really think you can play me for a fool?” I nervously wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead, daring to glance up at him. His features were sharp, his presence overwhelming. He was a handsome man, but in a way that made you afraid to look him in the eye. Forty years old and he held the city in the palm of his hand. He was right; you couldn’t fool a man like him. Alistair paused, then abruptly pulled the gun away. He took a cigarette from a case on the table and lit it with a casual flick. He took a long drag, exhaling slowly, as if lost in a memory. “You knew what Eleanor and I ate on our first date. You knew her favorite exercise. And you knew…” His voice turned sharp. “It must have taken quite an effort to dig all that up.” “I’ll give you three minutes to tell me everything. Otherwise, I have ways of making you talk.” My heart hammered against my ribs. I was beginning to realize he was far more dangerous than I had imagined. A wave of regret washed over me for ever taking this job. My eyes flickered to the side again, unable to help it. Alistair couldn’t see her, but the ghost of a woman dead for ten years was zipping back and forth in a frenzy. She kept muttering to herself. “This shouldn’t be happening, how could this happen?” “I know what I told you was right! Alistair loves gorgonzola, and he always loved watching me do my Tai Chi…” “So what went wrong?” The problem, lady, is that a normal person wouldn’t know about the mole on his left ass cheek! It was my own fault for being an idiot and just repeating everything she told me. The second the words left my mouth, I knew I’d screwed up. The ghost, Eleanor, floated over to me, offering an awkward smile. “Don’t worry, honey. Let me think. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you.” Scare me? I turned my head just in time to see Alistair calmly load a fresh clip into the gun. Thump— I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around his legs. “Mr. Vance, I have a secret.” 2 I have a secret. I’ve been able to see ghosts since I was a child. After going through the whole cycle of terror, fear, breakdowns, and despair, I finally came to accept it. I even learned to ignore them, to treat them like they weren’t there. Until a month ago, when this ghost named Eleanor started haunting me. “Sweetie, you can see me? Oh, that’s wonderful! Can you do me a favor?” “Why are you ignoring me? Honey, sweetie, helloooo…” “You’re the only one who can help me, I’m begging you. If you help me, I’ll give you ten million dollars.” That’s when I couldn’t pretend anymore. I snapped my head around. “How much!?” “Ten million!” Seeing me waver, Eleanor floated closer, her voice a seductive whisper. “Really, it’s just a small favor. I just need you to go check on my husband and my son. Ever since I died, their relationship has gotten worse and worse. They’re practically enemies now. Just go to my house and help me with a few little things.” I hesitated. She quickly added, “My husband is a wonderful man. He looks a little cold, but he’s kind and gentle, and very easy to manage.” “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. I’ll be there to help you.” “Before I died, I hid a bank card. It was my secret little slush fund. If you agree to help, I’ll give it to you!” “It has exactly ten million, one hundred twenty-five thousand, three hundred and forty-four dollars in it!” Damn. She remembered it down to the dollar. It had to be real. I was tempted. Insanely tempted. I’m Zara Thorne, the second daughter of the Thorne family. But despite the title, I was treated worse than the maids. I’m the illegitimate one, the family disgrace. I was desperate to escape that house, to leave the country, to study abroad—but all of that required money. After thinking it over and over, I gritted my teeth and agreed. 3 And now I was regretting it. Deeply. Clinging to Alistair’s leg, I said, “Mr. Vance, the truth is… your wife has been speaking to me in my dreams.” It was better to say she came to me in dreams than to say I could see ghosts. Both were absurd, but the former was slightly more believable. Alistair froze, his eyes cast downward as he seemed to consider this. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, his hand shot out and clamped around my neck. “You’re a liar,” he hissed. “If she could appear in dreams, why wouldn’t she come to mine?” His grip was crushing. I couldn’t breathe. My face started to turn red as the air was squeezed from my lungs. Eleanor yelped in terror and started spinning around me. “What do I do, what do I do? Why is Alistair like this?” I clawed at his hand, forcing the words out one by one. “Because. She. Still. Blames. You.” Alistair’s pupils contracted. His hand went slack. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. I collapsed to the floor, coughing violently until I could breathe again. Looking up at him, I repeated, “Because she still blames you.” “You know exactly how she died, don’t you? You had a fight. She ran out of the house in anger, and that’s when the accident happened.” “If you had just given in, just for a moment, she might never have died at all.” “Mr. Vance, your wife is still angry with you. That’s why she won’t enter your dreams.” For a moment, the cold, hard mask on Alistair’s face shattered. His expression became a storm of conflicting emotions. Doubt. Regret. Guilt. They warred across his features. The veins on the hand holding the gun bulged, and his breathing grew ragged. Terrified, I scooted away, praying he wouldn’t accidentally pull the trigger. Alistair stood frozen like that for several minutes. Then, all at once, the tension drained out of him. His spine, once ramrod straight, seemed to curve. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I deserve it,” he muttered to himself. Then, looking like a man lost in a daze, he turned and walked out of the room. I heard the family’s butler, Mr. Davies, ask, “Sir, what should we do with the young lady?” “Find a guest room for her.” “Very good, sir.” 4 Lying on the soft bed in the guest room, I was trembling with the aftershock of my near-death experience. Eleanor, however, was still muttering beside me. “I don’t actually blame him. He looks so sad. It makes me sad, too.” I was speechless. “Lady, if I hadn’t said that, I’d be dead right now!” “I know, I’m not blaming you. It’s just… I feel a little sad.” “…” Fine. The longer a ghost sticks around, the fuzzier their brain gets. I could understand. I ignored her and fell asleep. When I woke up, the fear had subsided. I saw her floating by the window, a lonely, translucent figure. I felt a pang of pity for her. I spoke up. “Hey, you never told me. What were you and Alistair fighting about that night?” Eleanor paused, her expression turning melancholic. “It was because…” BANG— A loud crash echoed from downstairs. It sounded like the front door had been slammed open. Then, a boy’s raw voice, spitting the foulest, most vicious words. “Alistair Vance! You dare bring another woman into this house! How dare you! Do you have any respect for my mother’s memory?!” “Come out! Are you too much of a coward to face me?!” “Alistair! You spineless bastard!” Ah. The little terror of the Vance family was home. Eleanor had told me her son was only seven when she died. Ten years had passed. Now he was seventeen, the prime age for rebellion. And it was common knowledge throughout the city that this father and son did not get along. While my mind was racing, I heard frantic footsteps pounding up the stairs. They stopped right outside my door, followed by a series of violent kicks. “Is that woman hiding in here?! Get the hell out!” The butler tried to intervene. “Young Master, the lady inside is a guest!” “Guest my ass! She’s another one of Alistair’s little whores!” Hey! This kid had a seriously foul mouth. Furious, I jumped out of bed, strode to the door, and yanked it open. I glared at him. “What do you want?” After a few seconds of a staring contest with Rowan Vance, I suddenly realized how much he looked like his father. The nose, the mouth—they were practically identical. But his eyes were softer, more like Eleanor’s. His handsome face, however, couldn’t hide the fact that he was a spoiled brat. Rowan gave me a disdainful once-over. Then he sneered. “Someone like you thinks you can just walk into my house? Get lost.” Rage churned in my stomach. Eleanor floated over. “Oh, my baby boy is so big now.” “He’s so cute.” I rolled my eyes. Before I could even form a sarcastic thought, I heard her next words. “Honey, slap him.” I froze for a second, then a wicked thrill shot through me. I raised my hand and smacked Rowan right across his handsome face. SMACK— Rowan’s head snapped to the side. He was completely stunned. He turned back to me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You hit me?!” The butler’s face darkened. “Miss Thorne, while you may be a guest, I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to strike the young master.” “You fucking bitch, you hit me!” Rowan exploded, lunging at me like a wild animal, his expression promising to tear me limb from limb. Mr. Davies, fearing things would escalate, grabbed him around the waist. “Young Master, please, calm down!” I stumbled back a few steps. I glanced at Eleanor and whispered, “Okay, what’s next?” Eleanor: “Huh?” I scowled. “What’s the plan after the slap? You didn’t think this through before you told me to hit him, did you?” The ghost just stared at me blankly. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost passed out. I’d been played again! The commotion was so loud it finally brought Alistair out. “What is going on?” The moment his voice rang out, Rowan froze. He shook off the butler’s grip and turned to his father, his eyes red. Well, half his face was red, too. Alistair saw his son’s cheek, and his own face instantly darkened. Rowan’s voice was filled with hate. “Alistair Vance, you’re a real piece of work. The anniversary of my mother’s death is in two days, and you choose now to bring this woman home and let her hit me… Aren’t you afraid my mother is watching you from heaven?” Alistair’s gaze shot toward me like a dagger. “You hit him?” “Who gave you the nerve?!” Rowan scoffed. “Why are you pretending? As if she’d dare to touch me in this house without your permission.” All three of them—father, son, and butler—were now staring at me. I blinked once, twice, then collapsed onto the floor. “Oh, my. What happened? I think I was dreaming. Wait, wasn’t I asleep? Why am I on the floor?” “Why… why are you all here? And what happened to this handsome young man’s face? Why is it all red?” Rowan looked at me with disgust. “What the hell are you playing at?” I shook my head, feigning confusion. Then my eyes lit up, and I scrambled over to Alistair’s side. “Oh, Mr. Vance! I just dreamed about your wife again!” Alistair’s gaze was ice-cold. It was clear he didn’t believe me anymore. I swallowed hard and continued my bullshit. “It’s true.” I pointed to the windowsill. “In the dream, she was leaning on the windowsill, looking at the flowers. She said the rosebush in the courtyard was a birthday gift she planted for the young master on his fifth birthday.” “She looked so sad. She said her son has gone astray, and if she had the chance, she’d really like to discipline him. She even asked if she could borrow my body for a bit. I got scared, and that’s when I woke up.” “Young Master Vance, please don’t tell me I actually hit you?! Oh god, I didn’t mean to, I think I was possessed…” As soon as I said that, all three men froze. Alistair instinctively glanced at the butler. Mr. Davies quickly said, “Sir, I assure you, I have said nothing.” But Rowan was getting agitated, focusing on the wrong thing. “What are you talking about? How did you know about the roses? Who told you?!” He paused, his eyes narrowing at his father. “Did you tell her? What right do you have to talk to her about my mother?” “Alistair Vance, my mother must have been blind to ever fall for you!” SMACK— The other cheek got a slap, too. This one from his father. The air in the hallway instantly froze. Even Eleanor stopped flying around, staring blankly at her son. Rowan touched his face, but instead of getting angry, he laughed. The look he gave his father was terrifying. It was like he’d snapped. He shoved the butler aside and ran down the stairs. “Sir, it’s raining outside! The young master is furious. If he runs out like this, something bad could happen!” “Then go find him!” The butler looked conflicted. “If you don’t go, sir, I’m afraid we won’t be able to bring him back. You know his temper. What if he gets hurt…” Alistair closed his eyes, his chest heaving. Before he left with the butler, he gave me a long, unreadable look. I immediately bowed and scraped. “I’ll be good and stay put, Mr. Vance. Don’t you worry.” 5 God, they were insane! This father and son were both completely nuts! This place was dangerous. I had to leave. In a matter of seconds, I made up my mind. I turned to Eleanor. “What exactly is the favor you need? Spit it out. I’m doing it, and then I’m gone.” Eleanor looked downcast. She sat on the windowsill, gazing at the roses in the courtyard. The rain was beating them down, a pitiful sight. “I originally wanted you to help mend their relationship…” What? An abstract task like that? No way I could help. I was about to refuse when she continued, “But I never realized things had gotten this bad. Asking you to help with this… it’s really asking too much.” Good, she understood. “So, you…” “I don’t know,” Eleanor said. “I’m a little lost myself now. I don’t know what else we can do.” I flopped onto the bed. Whatever. I’d just take it one step at a time. I had finally realized that I was stuck with a completely unreliable ghost. This ten million was not going to be easy to earn. I couldn’t sleep, so I turned to talk to her. “You still haven’t told me. What did you and Mr. Vance really fight about back then?” Eleanor floated over and lay down beside me. Her presence was chilly, but I didn’t mind. I was ready for the tea. Her pale, thin lips parted. “I… don’t remember.” Me: “…” What a waste of my emotions. Time for sleep! I wasn’t too mad about not getting the gossip. I knew that’s how it was with ghosts. The longer they wandered the earth, the more their memories faded. The first things to go were the memories of their death and the time leading up to it. “I’m sorry, sweetie. You should get some sleep.” Eleanor didn’t need to sleep. Bored, she floated out to wander around the house. A little while later, she came back. Seeing I was still awake, she crouched beside me and started humming a soft tune. I paused. “What’s that song?” “Just something I made up. I used to sing it to Rowan to help him sleep. Is it bothering you?” “No.” I buried my head in the pillow. “It’s beautiful. Can you sing it again?” “Of course.” I grew up in an orphanage and was only recently taken in by the Thorne family, where I was met with nothing but scorn. I’d never experienced something as comforting as being sung to sleep. To think that one day, a ghost I barely knew would be the one to give me that… It was a strange feeling. Drifting off to Eleanor’s gentle melody, I finally fell asleep.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393585”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Cresthaven’s infamous ‘Reaper’, Jim McAvoy, had one weakness—Nina Reed. I was his light, his redemption. For me, he traded bloodstained clothes for tailored suits, dismantled his empire, became a philanthropist. “Purifying myself for you is a pleasure,” he’d say. I believed him. Defied my family, married him. For five years, he worshipped me—the feared crime lord cooked for me, knelt to wash my feet, revered my parents. When my father was accused of manslaughter, Jim hired top lawyers. But at trial, the key witness vanished. Father was convicted. As the sentence was read, Jim stood and applauded. I found the witness. She slapped me: “Your husband threatened my parents! I had no choice!” Jim appeared behind me, calm: “Sylvie’s brother is dead. Someone had to pay. Your father’s sentence is light—let it go.” 1. “Your father is only going to prison for a few years. Let’s just leave it at that.” I never thought I would hear those words from Jim McAvoy’s lips. Just last night, he’d held me, murmuring reassurances that justice would prevail. Now, he was the one who had sent my father to prison. I stumbled, whirling around to grab the collar of his shirt. When I spoke, my voice was a raw, broken rasp. “Why? Jim, why would you do this?” He pried my fingers from his shirt, his grip firm but his eyes empty of emotion. “I told you. Your father killed a man. He has to pay for it.” “But you know it was self-defense! If he hadn’t fought back, the one who died would have been…” “That’s not important, Nina. I promised Sylvie I would protect her. Her life can’t have a single stain on it.” I stared up at his handsome, unconcerned face. “So you’re saying my father’s life… isn’t important?” My voice cracked. “You say Sylvie’s life can’t be stained, but what about me? What about my father? How are we supposed to wash away the stain on us?” Jim’s brow furrowed. “You don’t need to. You’re my wife. Who would dare say a word against you? When your father gets out, if he wants, I’ll send him and your mother to live out their days abroad.” A bitter laugh escaped me, followed by a sudden torrent of tears. “So, for the rest of our lives, we’re just supposed to depend on you, live according to your arrangements?” A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. “Nina, you need to learn to be sensible.” “This case is closed.” Sensible? I wrenched my hand from his, my heart filled with scorn. “And if I’m not?” His gaze darkened, becoming a bottomless, black pit. “You know that without a witness, you can appeal a hundred times and the result will be the same.” He leaned in, his lips close to my ear, but his eyes drifted to a point behind me. “And Nina… you wouldn’t want anyone else to die because of you, would you?” My pupils dilated. I spun around. The witness girl stood there, her face ashen, her lower lip bitten raw. I knew. After today, she would never testify for my father again. “You’re a monster, Jim.” All my love curdled into a cold lump of disappointment in my chest. My shoulders slumped, and I dragged my heavy body away. At the end of the courthouse alley, Sylvie Threlfall was waiting, wrapped in Jim’s overcoat. When she saw me, her eyes were like poison-tipped daggers. “You’re just going to leave?” she sneered. “Shouldn’t the murderer’s daughter be at my brother’s memorial, begging for forgiveness on her knees?” I smirked. “Murderer? If my father hadn’t been there, your brother would be a rapist. And you… you’re nothing but a homewrecking…” Before I could finish, a hand clamped over my mouth from behind. It was Jim. “Nina, Sylvie is right,” he said, his voice cold. “Someone from your family needs to beg for forgiveness. If it’s not you, it’ll have to be your mother.” I turned my head to look at him, trying to understand how the man who once swore he loved me could become so hideous. The year I met Jim, I was a college student teaching dance part-time. One night, he was cornered in an alley by his enemies, a lone figure against twenty men. Anyone else would have run or died. But Jim McAvoy wasn’t anyone else. He’d earned his title as Cresthaven’s Reaper with his own two hands. He took them all down. When he emerged from the alley, bleeding from a dozen wounds, he simply leaned against a lamppost and lit a cigarette. As he looked up, the warm, yellow light from a second-story window across the street spilled onto the pavement. In that frame of light, a girl was dancing. That girl was me. That, Jim had said, was how I danced my way into his heart and became his eternal guiding light. He said I looked like a fairy, an otherworldly sprite. When he first pursued me, I was terrified. I gave him a thousand reasons to leave me alone. I told him I only liked gentle, refined men, and he was too coarse. So he hired a private tutor, the same one who trained flight attendants, to teach him etiquette. I told him I hated violence and wanted a quiet life. So he dissolved his criminal network, became a legitimate businessman, and dedicated himself to charity. Everyone in Cresthaven said he was madly in love with me. That anything involving Nina Reed was the one thing that could make the Reaper bare his fangs again. And now this man, for another woman, had turned my father into a murderer and was forcing me to kneel before a predator’s memory. The car pulled up to the funeral home. A bodyguard dragged me out and threw me inside. When Sylvie’s family saw me, they swarmed, their faces contorted with rage. Jim only frowned slightly. Sylvie saw it and raised an eyebrow at him. “Her father killed my brother. It’s only fair my family gets to let off some steam. Surely Mr. McAvoy won’t mind?” Jim said nothing. He didn’t move. And so I was swallowed by Sylvie’s relatives. They slapped my face, kicked my stomach, tore at my clothes, and yanked my hair. One man’s grimy hands roamed over my body, a vile, invasive touch. I couldn’t bear it. I screamed Jim’s name. “Jim, no matter what, I am still your wife!” He frowned again, but before he could speak, Sylvie cut in smoothly. “Alright, that’s enough. Jim brought her here today to repent to my brother. Let’s show him some respect.” The crowd parted, revealing me in my battered, disheveled state. Sylvie’s eyes glinted with mockery as she pointed to her brother’s open casket. “Nina Reed. I want you to kneel before my brother and admit that you are the daughter of a murderer. And then, I want you to apologize.” I clutched my torn clothes, my voice ice. “In your dreams. I will never admit my father is a murderer.” The words had barely left my mouth when Jim’s tall frame appeared beside me. “Do as she says. Otherwise, I’ll have to call your mother.” My nails dug into my palms. I looked up at him, my eyes red-rimmed. “Jim, do you really have to be so cruel?” He looked down at me, and his next words sent a chill through my entire body. “They’re just words, Nina. It’s not that serious. Sylvie wants to hear them, so you’ll say them for her.” “If you insist on being this stubborn, I’ll have to use… other methods to train you. And you know I have a thousand ways, ten thousand ways, to make you obey.” Yes. How could I forget? He was the Reaper. Even if I refused, he had a million ways to break me. Psychological, physical. It would be one thing if he used them on me. But if he used them on my mother… on my father… I couldn’t bear the thought. I closed my eyes, helpless. After a long, agonizing struggle, I unclenched my bleeding fists and surrendered. “Fine. I’ll say it.” I crawled on my hands and knees to the casket, each word a sob. “I… am the daughter of a murderer. I am here to apologize to Mr. Brandon Threlfall. I am so sorry.” Sylvie, however, was not satisfied. “Miss Reed, don’t you know a proper apology requires a bow to show sincerity? And your voice is far too quiet.” I trembled, humiliation forcing me to grit my teeth. As if punishing myself, I raised my head and slammed my forehead to the ground. “I AM THE DAUGHTER OF A MURDERER. I AM HERE TO APOLOGIZE TO MR. BRANDON THRELFALL. I AM SO SORRY!” Blood bloomed on my forehead, streaming down my face. Jim’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly. I lifted my head and stared straight at Sylvie. “Is that enough?” My reckless abandon seemed to startle her family. They tugged at her sleeve. Sylvie just lifted her chin, her expression arrogant. “Barely.” I scrambled to my feet, unsteady. Jim’s hand shot out to support me, but I slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” I spat. “You disgust me.” His face darkened with sudden rage. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “What did you say? Say it again. I dare you.” I met his gaze, my voice clear and deliberate, each word a shard of ice. “I. Said. You. Disgust. Me.” Jim looked as if he’d been struck. He abruptly let go of my wrist. This time, I didn’t look back. I strode out of that funeral home and didn’t stop. I never imagined they would film what happened in that funeral home. Overnight, the video went viral. Tabloid vultures spun their own narratives, claiming my father had knowingly broken the law and was trying to hide behind a self-defense claim. Others whispered that my father and the so-called victim had some illicit relationship—why else would his own daughter be so willing to confess? The shame and anger made my mother collapse. But even if we covered our ears and closed our eyes, we couldn’t escape the deluge of insults. “If your father sees this, how heartbroken will he be?” she worried, her face etched with sorrow after she woke. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know how to explain myself. The next day, my father found out anyway. He tried to kill himself in prison. When we got the news, my mother and I raced to the hospital. But when we arrived, the ambulance carrying my father was parked outside, barred from entering. Blood was still seeping from the wound on his neck. I was frantic. “Why isn’t he being taken inside?” I demanded. The paramedic looked at me, his face a mask of helpless frustration. “I heard Mr. McAvoy’s… girlfriend’s cat was in an accident. It’s being treated in the ER. Mr. McAvoy gave the order: until the cat is stable, no other critical patients are to be admitted.” It felt like a fever dream, so absurd, so twisted. “This is a hospital, not a veterinary clinic! How can you let them do this?” No one answered me. Even the prison guard accompanying us sighed. “You’re the family. Maybe you should try another hospital?” The doctor, who was still applying pressure to my father’s wound, shook his head. “The nearest one is ten minutes away. We don’t have that kind of time.” My breath caught. I turned to get out of the ambulance. “I’ll go. I’ll beg Jim to let my father in.” But as I turned, my father’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. He gripped it tightly, and the heart monitor beside him began to beep erratically. I scrambled back to his side. “Dad, don’t get agitated. I’ll save you, I promise. Please, just hold on.” My father’s eyes fluttered open. He raised a trembling hand to my cheek. His lips moved behind the oxygen mask, trying desperately to tell me something. The doctor reached over and removed the mask. “He’s not going to make it. If you have anything to say, say it now.” My ears started ringing. The doctor and the guard stepped out of the ambulance, leaving us alone. My mother, her face deathly pale, leaned in close, her voice choked with grief. “What is it, dear? I’m listening.” My father’s voice was faint, as if coming from a great distance, yet every word was crystal clear. “Don’t be sad. And don’t… don’t beg him. This was my choice. I found my own peace.” “Nina, I don’t want you to appeal. I just want you and your mother to be safe. Nothing is more important than the two of you.” “My love,” he said to my mother, “make that call. Take Nina and leave Cresthaven.” “Yes, yes, I will,” my mother sobbed, clutching his hand. “Good. Then I can… I can rest…” A long, piercing beep filled the air. My father’s hand went limp in hers. I snatched it back, holding on for dear life, as if my grip alone could keep him from leaving me. The silence in the ambulance was suffocating. A tidal wave of grief crashed over my mother and me, drowning us completely. After what felt like an eternity, my mother let out a shuddering breath. She took my hand, her trembling voice laced with a newfound strength. “Nina. Let’s take your father home.” The kind ambulance driver took us to a crematorium. After I signed the necessary papers, my mother and I oversaw my father’s cremation. When we returned home with the urn, my mother handed me a phone number. “Nina. This is the number for your grandfather’s old commander. You make the call.” I held the slip of paper, the rage in my heart impossible to suppress. My father’s last words… it was clear he had been threatened, coerced into taking his own life. Was I really supposed to just run away? But one look at my mother’s frail shoulders and swollen, red eyes, and I dialed the number. I couldn’t let her be endangered because of me. No matter how much I wanted to fight, I had to get her to safety first. The call was answered immediately by a stern, authoritative voice. After a brief explanation, he told me he would send someone to pick us up the next day. I hung up and sat with my mother before my father’s makeshift memorial all night. At dawn, we took his ashes to choose a burial plot. We had intended to bury him next to my grandmother. But in a cruel twist of fate, the plot next to hers was already occupied. By Brandon Threlfall.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393584”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 “How long has it been since we were last together?” I asked James casually over dinner. “What, you want a baby now?” He glanced up, his eyes flicking over my face before returning to the cod on his plate. “Weren’t you the one who said you didn’t want one?” “So the only reason for me to be with you is to have a child?” I was three years older than James. The year his family fell from grace, his mother gravely ill, when he was on the verge of selling himself to raise money, I was the one who stepped in. He broke up with his girlfriend and married me, becoming a live-in son-in-law to the prestigious Reed family. But in five years of marriage, the number of nights we’d actually shared a bed could be counted on one hand. It wasn’t until recently, when I learned that his ex-girlfriend had become his new secretary, that the pieces finally clicked into place. Some things, I realized, simply couldn’t be forced. I sat up straighter. “Can we tonight?” James finally looked at me properly. “What is wrong with you?” I glanced at his phone on the table, a constant stream of notifications lighting up the screen. I smiled and looked down at my plate. “Maybe… we should get a divorce.” A flicker of something—shock, perhaps—crossed James’s face. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a half-mocking smile. “Because I won’t sleep with you, you want a divorce?” “What new game are you playing now, Miss Reed?” I wiped my mouth and poured us both a glass of red wine. The dark liquid swirled in the glass, its intoxicating aroma the perfect catalyst for primal desires. “The last time was… New Year’s Eve last year, wasn’t it?” I took a small sip, my voice a low murmur. “It was snowing that night, too. We had a little wine.” “I bought a new nightgown. You even said I looked…” “Avery,” James cut me off. “Are you finished? I’ll clear the table.” Before I could answer, he was on his feet, gathering my dishes. He was always so considerate. Ever since he married me, even after he became a successful CEO, he would still cook for me whenever he had the time. Mundane chores like washing dishes and cleaning were his domain when he was home. He never used a dishwasher, preferring to do it all by hand. I gestured to his phone with my chin. “Busy?” He shook his head. “Just the work group chat.” And just like that, he’d brushed aside my mention of divorce as if I’d merely asked if he liked the dinner. Normally, I would have let his coldness slide. But not tonight. “I heard you hired a new secretary,” I said, taking another sip of wine. He didn’t stop his cleaning. “Did Walter tell you?” Walter was the driver my family had assigned to him. I didn’t answer, just pressed on. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” “About what? You already know everything.” His tone was tinged with a faint, biting sarcasm. “I hadn’t seen Laura’s resume before it landed on my desk. My assistant, Ryan, handled the final interview. I trust his professional judgment. And I’m not going to ruin someone’s career just because she’s an ‘ex-girlfriend,’ am I?” He always had a reason, a perfectly logical, high-minded explanation. I could never win an argument against him. For all these years, except for those rare, unguarded moments in bed, James was always restrained, always polite. Sometimes I wondered why he’d agreed to marry me in the first place. Was it just out of gratitude? I was too afraid to ask, terrified of the answer that would surely break my heart. I watched him now, his back slightly bent over the sink, so close and yet so far away. He was the person I was supposed to be most intimate with in the world, yet I felt as if I’d never truly possessed him. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “So, why not tonight?” “They say when a man doesn’t eat at home, it’s because he’s already full from eating out.” I was desperate to stir something, anything, in this stagnant pool of a marriage. “Or are you saying you think I’m too old?” James’s brow furrowed. He pried my hands from his waist. “Don’t mess around. I have a video conference later.” Rejected again. “What if I said, if you don’t sleep with me, we get a divorce?” I persisted, determined to drop a boulder into this placid lake. I pulled his shirt from his trousers, my hand about to venture lower when he grabbed it. He spun me around, trapping me against the counter. He looked down at me. “Avery, don’t push me.” His voice was so calm it sent a shiver down my spine. “I know my place. You don’t have to keep testing me. But don’t push me. Some things… they just won’t work.” The one thing I was too scared to ask, he had to say it out loud. It just won’t work. I’d said something similar to my father once, when he’d tried to set me up with some family friend. What was it I’d said? “There’s no spark. You can’t force a spark.” See? Who said we weren’t a good match? We even thought the same way. I smiled up at him, my vision blurring. “Okay. I understand.” Before the tears could fall, I pushed him away and went to the bedroom. My phone still held the photo I’d received hours earlier. It was old and faded, but I recognized the young James instantly, and the sweet-faced girl nestled beside him, Laura. He was smiling so beautifully. A pity he never smiled at me like that. “What do you think your chances are now?” the message had read. I took a deep breath and typed back furiously. “I’ve already won. I’m his wife!” I was his wife. But… so what? He didn’t love me. My best friend, a lawyer, quickly drafted a divorce agreement for me. When she handed it to me, her face was a picture of disbelief. “Are you serious? James?” “You practically went to war with your father for him. You’ve had a few good years, and now you’re telling me you want a divorce?” She waggled a finger in my face. “Did he cheat on you?” “Don’t tell me you have some terminal illness.” “Hey!” I cut her off. “Don’t jinx me.” “Then what is it? You have to tell me! You have no idea how hard it’s been holding this in since you called!” I took the agreement and scanned it quickly. “Yep, this is perfect. You’re the best.” She suddenly shrieked. “Tell me! Why are you doing this? Wait, no, are you kidding me? You think this agreement is ‘perfect’?!” She looked like she was about to jump on the table. “Avery Reed, get a grip!” “What about the division of assets? I was waiting for you to ask me about that! Do you have any idea what his company is worth now? And you’re just asking for the money you lent him back, plus a little interest?” “Are you running a charity, Miss Reed? What about all the connections and resources your family gave him? If your father finds out about this, he’ll break your legs!” I knew. Never make a losing deal. It was our family’s motto. But a deal requires both parties to be willing. “I don’t need the money. I didn’t help him for financial gain.” “Bullshit! If you weren’t after something, why did you propose marriage? And at his lowest point! We all said it back then, you Reed women are born business sharks.” I gave a wry smile. I couldn’t blame them for thinking that. When James’s family ran into trouble, he and Laura were about to graduate and go abroad together. His father was accused of corruption after retirement, and his mother was in a car accident, the medical bills a bottomless pit. It was as if all the bad luck in the world had conspired to drag the golden boy down into the mud. And that was when Laura had abandoned him and left the country alone. I had seen the way he loved her, with a fierce, all-consuming passion. When he looked at her, there was a fire in his eyes that left no room for anyone else. So yes, I was despicable. I had extended a hand to him at his most vulnerable moment. “So, will you marry me?” Thinking back, it wasn’t just taking advantage of his situation; it was preying on it. “You’re right. I made a great deal.” “And now… my conscience is catching up with me. I’m setting him free.” My friend looked at me skeptically. “Does your family know?” My father and my brother… they probably wouldn’t object. A few years ago, they were the ones trying to set me up with other men. “Young Mr. Carter is younger than James, why don’t you meet him?” or “The eldest son of the Lees just opened a new branch, and he’s still single.” But in recent years, they’d gone quiet. Maybe because I was getting older, or maybe because James’s company was getting bigger and bigger. They’d stopped trying to persuade me to divorce him. Everything seemed to be getting better. But me… I couldn’t go on. “Wouldn’t they be happy?” I shook my head and signed my name. “Divorce?!” I hadn’t expected to be met with such a storm of fury when I got home. My father sat in his study, silent and grim-faced. My older brother had smashed a glass. “I knew it!” he raged. “I knew that James was a calculating snake! Now that he’s made it, he’s just going to toss you aside! What a classic case of biting the hand that feeds him! Fine! Just fine!” I was confused, but I frowned. “Brother, don’t say that. It was me who…” “You’re still defending him!” My brother wouldn’t listen. “Do you have any idea what he’s been doing?” “He’s been systematically devouring our family’s business empire!” “I knew something was off this past year! It was that bastard, sabotaging me behind my back! I really underestimated him!” “And now he wants a divorce? You call that anything but betrayal?” “Fine! Divorce him! But make him give you his company in exchange!” As my brother ranted, I finally understood. I looked at my father, who had been silent until now. He finally looked up at me. “We always thought of him as family. We let him have some business deals. But this time… the Westside project we’ve been preparing for over six months… he went straight to our competitor and snatched the bid right out from under us. The losses are significant.” “Avery,” my father sighed, “you’ve been sleeping with a wolf.” “It’s better to cut ties now,” he added, his voice weary. “You’re still young. You can find someone else. It’s just that now… Dad can’t help you much.” So this was it. This was my punishment. My punishment for taking advantage of a man at his lowest point. I don’t remember how I left the house. I just remember my sister-in-law holding my hand, telling me not to worry, that the family’s foundation was still strong, but that James had been acting unscrupulously for years. When I came to my senses, I was standing outside his office building. My friend had said she couldn’t reach him, so I’d decided to come in person. But what I was going to say, I hadn’t figured out yet. I had just come to deliver a divorce agreement. But now… should I confront him? Ask him what he’d thought of me all these years? A ladder to the top? Or a target for revenge, unworthy of sympathy? “Mr. Croft is in a meeting.” I wasn’t surprised to run into Laura first. She looked more mature than I remembered, tall and slender in a well-tailored business suit. When her gentle eyes swept over the folder in my hand, a barely perceptible smile touched her lips. “If it’s urgent, I can pass the documents on to him for you.” None of the cocky swagger from her earlier texts remained. “No, thank you. I’ll wait for him.” “The meeting might take a while,” Laura explained patiently. “Mr. Croft has been extremely busy lately, juggling several major projects at once. He barely has time to eat.” “Or, when he’s finished, I can have him call you back?” Very professional, very composed. James was right. She was a good secretary. And they… they did look good together. “Take me to his office. I’ll wait there.” I was still, nominally, the boss’s wife. She had no reason to stop me. The smile on Laura’s face faded slightly. She gave a small bow and led me to his office. I’d been to James’s office a few times. It was always neat and tidy, a reflection of his minimalist style. But this time, there were a few new potted plants, and a high-end eye massager on his desk. “Mr. Croft gets eye strain easily, so I got these for him,” Laura explained with a smile, expertly brewing me a cup of tea. I nodded. Of course. It made sense. But why did my heart still ache with such a bitter pang? I could imagine that if I confronted James, as I had in the past, he would just say he hadn’t noticed. Besides, I no longer had the right to question him. But in that moment, an impulse took over. Just as Laura was about to leave, I stopped her. “Why did you leave back then?” “And why did you come back?” The faint scent of tea hung in the air, mingling with the perfume on Laura’s skin and the office’s own fragrance, becoming indistinguishable. Silence stretched between us. “If it hadn’t been for my circumstances, James and I would have been married long ago. We were planning to get engaged the year we graduated.” Laura’s voice had lost its professional veneer. “If I hadn’t left, you would never have had the chance to get close to him, let alone marry him.” “Shouldn’t you be grateful to me?” Laura turned to face me, tears welling in her eyes. Then, she let out a small, sharp laugh. “I came back, of course, to see if the so-called ‘unforgettable love’ really held that much weight.” “And what did you find?” I asked. But honestly, I didn’t really want to hear the answer. James chose that moment to walk in, just in time to see Laura’s unshed tears and my furrowed brow. “What are you doing here?” he asked me first. I placed the folder on his desk, about to speak. “Mr. Croft,” Laura cut in, her voice laced with a subtle note of grievance. “I told Mrs. Croft you were in a meeting, but she insisted on waiting… I’ll be leaving now.” She gave James a look that was both hesitant and meaningful. But his gaze was fixed on me, his expression as deep and unreadable as a still, dark well. I saw a flicker of confusion, then annoyance, in Laura’s eyes. Perhaps she didn’t know that James had changed a lot over the years too. He didn’t answer her. He just lowered his voice and asked me, “What is it?” Under his intense gaze, my throat suddenly felt dry. And with Laura still standing there, I felt like an intruder, a clown in someone else’s private circus. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words “divorce agreement” in front of them. I couldn’t bear to lose so completely. “You can look at it later.” Then, I fled from that suffocating office, James’s cold voice echoing behind me: “You. Come over here and close the door.” What would he say to her? Would he look at the divorce agreement right away? Would they embrace, celebrating their freedom from the domineering rich girl? Or would he ask her gently what grievances she had suffered at my hands? Blame me for bullying his one true love? But no matter what, he had gotten everything he wanted from me, from my family. Now that I was setting him free, we should be even, right? Miss Reed’s bank account had never been short of funds. But I transferred all the money I had saved over the years back to my family’s account. It was a drop in the ocean compared to the losses James had caused, but it made me feel a little better. I was the one who had brought the wolf into our home. I had to take some responsibility. I didn’t get a call from James. Instead, it was Walter. “Ma’am, Mr. Croft has had a bit too much to drink. He seems to be caught up with a group of people and can’t get away. Do you want to come and see?” I froze, then stood up instinctively, ready to leave. “Whose party is it?” I had only taken a few steps when I remembered I had already asked for a divorce. In my current position, it was probably inappropriate for me to show up. “I’m not sure. Sounds like a reunion with some old classmates.” “Ma’am, you should probably come quickly. My car just got into a fender-bender, and I’m dealing with the other driver right now. I can’t leave.” Before I could say anything, Walter hung up. I bit my lip and went anyway. The lights in the club’s corridor were a dizzying, strobing mess. It took me a while to find the private room Walter had mentioned. The heavy door was slightly ajar, and the voices from inside drifted out clearly. “James! Come on, one more drink!” “You’re really something else now! Out of all of us, you’re the most successful! CEO of a publicly traded company, your net worth must be through the roof!” “Yeah, James, you have to help us out in the future!” another voice chimed in, dripping with flattery. “Don’t forget about us, your old buddies!” “I won’t,” James’s voice finally came, deeper and a little slurred from the alcohol. After a brief silence, a sleazy voice spoke up again. “Man, James, you’ve got it all—career, love life… you’re the real winner here. A woman from the Reed family, wow.” His tone shifted, becoming deliberately wistful. “But you know, sometimes I think about it, and it’s such a shame.” “Back in the day, you and Laura, you were the perfect couple! Everyone in our class was so jealous. If it weren’t for…” He trailed off, but the unspoken words hung in the air like a heavy stone. The noise in the room seemed to die down. Everyone was waiting, holding their breath, to see how James would react. Including me, outside the door. My heart clenched, my nails digging into my palms. Then, another voice, feigning innocence, picked up the thread. “What are you talking about? James’s doing great now.” “But hey, Laura’s here today too! Laura, come on, tell us, what really happened back then? You two were so good together, how did you suddenly…” So, Laura was there too. Her voice, soft and melodious, filled the silence, laced with just the right amount of plaintiveness and helplessness. “What’s the point of bringing up the past?” “My family was going through a difficult time. I had to leave. Some people… are just luckier than me. Let’s not talk about it.” Someone immediately piped up, “Don’t be too sad, Laura. James’s family was in trouble back then, it was a tough time. And some people, well, you know, they take advantage of a situation! Such clever tactics! But now you’re back, and James’s doing well. It’s the perfect opportunity for you two to get back together.” “What are you guys talking about!” Laura protested quickly, but her voice was full of a poorly concealed shyness. Taking advantage of a situation. Getting back together. Blood rushed to my head, then receded just as quickly, leaving me ice-cold. The light filtering through the crack in the door warped before my eyes. What was I doing here? Right. I was supposed to be picking James up. But this door in front of me felt like a ghost from five years ago, a portal to a past I didn’t belong to. What right did I, an outsider, have to push it open? I took a step back, then another, until I was swallowed by the shadows of the hallway. The door clicked open. It was Laura, helping a stumbling James out. “You’re drunk. Let me take you home,” she murmured, her voice a soft caress, her face so close to his. James gently pushed her away. “I’m fine. You go on home.” He leaned against the wall, but his unsteady steps betrayed him. I knew his tolerance for alcohol. He was very drunk. I took an involuntary step forward. And then, Laura threw herself into his arms. “James, James,” she whispered, her voice a seductive thread in the dim, swirling lights of the corridor, trapping all three of us in a frozen tableau. “I’m back, James. Look at me.” “I had to leave back then. You can blame me all you want, but you can’t just ignore me.” “All these years, I’ve never forgotten you.” “You let me stay by your side, so you must not have forgotten me either, right?” James slowly lifted his head. I practically fled. But the club’s corridors were a dark, twisting labyrinth that seemed to have no end. After several wrong turns, just as I was about to ask a server for directions, a hand grabbed me from behind and pulled me into an embrace. “Who is it?” I struggled, turning around. And came face to face with him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393582”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day my family went bankrupt, I was sold. Sent to the Hawthorne estate to settle a debt. And it was Caleb Hawthorne, the youngest son with a penchant for serpents, who claimed me. Every night, he’d bring one of his cold, slithering pets into my room. He’d let it coil around my ankle, ignoring my tears and pleas to take it away. Beyond that, however, my life was a gilded dream. I was admired, envied, and showered with gifts. But then, another girl arrived at the Hawthorne estate, another debt to be paid. Because she was afraid of snakes, Caleb killed his favorite pet without a second thought. Staring at the pool of blood on the floor, I knew. His little songbird was about to be replaced. Coincidentally, my three-year term was up. And so, cradling a barely-there bump, I slipped away from the Hawthorne estate, and from him. 1 To be honest, I was happy when I heard the family was bankrupt. My father had eight daughters. I was the eighth. All seven of my older sisters had been married off in strategic alliances, their partners chosen not by them, but by our father. Some were wed to divorced magnates with children, others to men thirty years their senior. Each of my sisters was as beautiful as a flower in bloom, and every single one of them was miserable. My father had arranged a match for me, too. My intended was a horrifying cocktail of all my brothers-in-law’s worst traits: old, ugly, divorced, and with a kid in tow. I only caught a glimpse of him from a distance, and the sight was enough to make me gag. Marrying him, I thought, would be a death sentence by starvation. I’d never be able to eat again, not with that face across the table. When my father heard I refused, he had me strung up and whipped, then locked away. He’d dealt with rebellious daughters before; he had a well-practiced method. Just as I was sinking into despair, his company hit the rocks. And the cherry on top? Not a single one of his wealthy, powerful sons-in-law lifted a finger to help. My father was finally, gloriously, bankrupt. I practically sent a thank-you card to the universe. I thought I’d escaped my fate, that the threat of a forced marriage was gone forever. I should have known my father’s shamelessness knew no bounds. If he couldn’t marry me off, he’d sell me off. 2 Stepping into the Hawthorne mansion, I felt like a lamb to the slaughter. My father had whispered his plan to me: “The Hawthornes have three sons. Just get one of them to take an interest in you.” If none of them did, I’d be passed along to the next creditor on his list. By then, I had no illusions left about love or marriage. I figured it was better to be in the hands of one man than passed around like a party favor. As long as the Hawthorne sons weren’t like my former fiancé—fifty-six years old, a hundred and sixty kilos, and a hundred and sixty centimeters tall—I could live with it. But the Hawthornes were a different breed. Mr. Hawthorne, the patriarch, rejected my father’s offer with righteous indignation. “We are a respectable family. Don’t try to pull these sordid tricks with us.” And just like that, my father and I were unceremoniously thrown out. As we stood on the curb, he was already muttering a list of other names—the Jacksons, the Williamses, the Browns… Suddenly, a low whistle cut through the air. A man appeared before me. A sharp jawline, high-arched brows, and a mess of dark hair falling over his forehead. The legs in those black joggers seemed to go on longer than my life expectancy. The moment our eyes met, a single thought flashed through my mind: This must be my cosmic reward for having to look at so many ugly men. But then my gaze sharpened, and my pupils constricted. Coiled around his arm was a silver snake. Not a toy. A real, living snake, as thick as a baby’s arm. Its black, beady eyes were fixed on me, its forked tongue flicking the air. I’ve been terrified of cold-blooded creatures my entire life. A chill shot up my spine, making my scalp tingle. Just as I was about to stumble backward, I heard my father’s voice, dripping with deference. “Mr. Caleb.” I knew of Caleb Hawthorne, the third and youngest son. In a family known for its rigid discipline, he was the wild card. Reckless and untamed since childhood, his only known passion was for his collection of snakes. He had no women in his life, only serpents. Yet, his grandfather doted on him, entrusting him with a significant portion of the family empire. Caleb ignored my father. He just lifted his chin in my direction, his voice a lazy drawl. “You scared of snakes?” Terrified. Mortally terrified. But I fought the urge to retreat, forcing a harmless, innocent smile onto my face. “Not at all.” A smirk played on his lips. He didn’t seem to believe me. Then, he raised his arm, extending the snake toward me. “Then pet him.” 3 Every cell in my body screamed in protest, but I couldn’t afford to defy Caleb Hawthorne. Compared to the other repulsive options, this handsome, young man was a godsend. Gritting my teeth, I cautiously reached out my hand. The silver snake stretched its head forward, its cold scales making unexpected contact with my palm. It was cool, smooth, and utterly horrifying. Oh God, I want to cry. This is horrible. But I kept my smile plastered on my face, looked Caleb in the eye, and forced out a lie. “Wow… the… the texture. It’s… exquisite.” The words had barely left my mouth when the snake, for reasons unknown, suddenly lunged, its mouth wide open as if to bite me. I shrieked, my hand jerking back. I couldn’t stop myself from stumbling three steps away. My lie was exposed in the most blatant way possible. I braced myself for Caleb’s mockery, but he just watched me with an amused, knowing look. “What’s your name?” “Chloe. Chloe Bell.” “You want to be with me?” “Huh?” My eyes went wide with shock. By the time I’d processed his question, my father and Caleb had already struck a deal. He was handing me over to Caleb for three years to settle a thirty-million-dollar debt. It was a terrible bargain for my father, but a miraculous one for me. And surprisingly, Caleb agreed. He gave a nonchalant nod. “Sure. Deal.” 4 That same evening, I was moved into Caleb’s private villa. He came into my room after his shower, wearing a white, V-neck silk pajama top that left a wide expanse of his chest bare. His dark hair was still damp, and droplets of water traced paths down his tanned skin, disappearing beneath the hem of his shirt. I pressed myself against the wall, my lips pursed nervously. “What’s this? Standing in the corner for punishment?” he scoffed, grabbing a towel from his shoulder to dry his hair. “If you’re not comfortable sleeping in my bed, you can pick another room. There are sixteen of them. Take your pick.” My eyes lit up instantly. I couldn’t believe how considerate he was. As I was about to nod, a playful smirk curled his lips. “Of course, the other fifteen are all snake habitats. Each with anywhere from five to twenty of them. So, you might want to think carefully about your choice.” I froze, the words catching in my throat. “N-no, that’s okay. This room… this room is just fine.” He closed the door, leaving the two of us alone in our pajamas. Even though Caleb was undeniably attractive, and I knew what was expected of a girl in my position, I was still terrified. My entire knowledge of sex came from romance novels; I had zero real-world experience. Caleb pulled back the covers and slid into bed, patting the empty space beside him. “You coming over here on your own, or do I have to carry you?” I hesitated for a moment before slowly inching my way to the edge of the bed. The rumors all said that the infamous Caleb Hawthorne only loved his snakes and had no interest in women. I didn’t exactly look like a snake, so he probably wouldn’t be interested in me, right? With that thought, I cautiously slipped under the covers, leaving enough space between us for three more people. Caleb shot me a look loaded with meaning. Then, as if suddenly feeling warm, he lifted the hem of his shirt to fan himself, revealing a perfectly sculpted set of eight-pack abs. I glanced away immediately, my heart hammering. “Is the AC too high?” I asked, my voice small. “I can turn it down if you want.” Caleb didn’t answer. He just stared at me, his throat working as he swallowed, as if he were thirsty. I tried again, trying to be helpful. “Do you need me to get you some water?” His expression was a complex mix of emotions. Suddenly, he wasn’t thirsty anymore. He reached over, switched off the lamp, and turned his back to me to sleep. I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed the rumors were true. He really wasn’t interested in women. He probably only took me in because he felt sorry for me, seeing my own father sell me off. I silently congratulated myself for landing with a good person who was just cold on the outside, and let myself drift off to sleep. Just as I was slipping into a deep slumber, a body pressed against me from behind. It was scorching hot. His voice was husky, but his words were sharp and to the point. “You want to do this?” 5 I take back everything I thought. Caleb Hawthorne was not a good person. He was a wicked, terrible man. I was too shy to refuse him, so he took my silence as an invitation, pressing forward until my resistance crumbled and I yielded. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He was also a pervert. What kind of decent person brings a snake into the bedroom during that? He brought one in, a twisted game of his. The snake’s forked tongue licked at my ankle, its cold scales slithering up my calf as Caleb’s hot breath tickled my ear, his teeth nibbling my earlobe. One hot, one cold, a combination designed to drive me mad. The first year with Caleb was a daily countdown, me scratching marks on the wall, waiting for the day I could escape him and his detestable snakes. By the second year, I discovered that darkness is contagious. After spending so long with a deviant, I’d become a little deviant myself. I was getting addicted to the feeling. By the third year, I started to think that maybe, just maybe, being with Caleb wasn’t so bad after all. He was loyal. Apart from me, there were no other women. He granted my every wish, showering me with the finest things money could buy. I had diamonds the size of pigeon eggs, pounds of gold bars, and a walk-in closet overflowing with designer bags. Everyone knew how much Caleb Hawthorne valued me. They saw me as the future Mrs. Hawthorne. Even my father, when he saw me, would bow and scrape, his old arrogance gone. I was living a life of luxury and praise. And I believed Caleb loved me. In those moments of passion, when he’d tremble and whisper my name, his eyes reflected only me. So when the three-year contract ended, he didn’t mention it, and neither did I. The day I found out I was pregnant, I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to share the news with him. But as fate would have it, that was the first night in three years that Caleb didn’t come home. The next day, I found out why. The Hawthornes had taken in a new girl to settle another debt. 6 When I went looking for Caleb, he was at the main family estate. The butler told me the new girl’s name was Lily Song. She was stunningly beautiful, a delicate, innocent flower. She was supposed to be given to the Hawthornes, but the young master of the Blackwood family had also taken a liking to her. So Caleb and Mason Blackwood had fought over her. The winner would get the girl. Caleb had won. But as he approached Lily, the snake he had with him that day grew agitated and slithered onto her. It wrapped itself around her neck, its forked tongue flicking out, brushing against her cheek as it moved. The poor girl had never seen anything like it. Her eyes filled with tears, and she started to sob in terror. By the time I arrived, the snake was already dead. Its head was severed from its body, a dark pool of blood spreading around it on the floor. I froze. Caleb loved his snakes. He treated them like his children, giving each one a name. He cherished them, never letting anyone else touch them. Someone had once offered him two million dollars for one of his snakes, and he’d refused. After spending so much time around those cold, silent creatures, even I had developed a strange affection for them. I never imagined Caleb would ever kill one of his snakes. Especially not to soothe a crying girl. I pressed my lips together and looked toward the living room of the estate. Caleb was inside, leaning casually against a window, arms crossed, a lazy smile on his lips as he chatted with Lily. She looked up at him, a fragile figure with long hair dancing in the breeze. For a fleeting moment, she looked just like I did three years ago. I was standing right at the entrance. If Caleb had just turned his head, he would have seen me. But he was too engrossed, his gaze never wavering from her. I suddenly remembered how distant Caleb had been these past two months. He had incredible stamina; in the past, he could go for hours without tiring, three or four times a night being the norm. But lately, he’d been perfunctory, finishing after just one or two rounds. The signs of his boredom had been there all along. But then again, what did I expect? A man of his status and background wasn’t going to tie his heart to one woman. The fact that he’d stayed with me for three years was a testament to my own charm, I suppose. I looked down at my still-flat stomach. I’d been so excited to tell him about our baby. Now, it seemed, there was no point. I turned away without a second glance and rushed back to the villa. Breaking up with Caleb was one thing, but the gifts he’d given me were mine. I was taking every last one. I immediately contacted a broker to sell the gold and began listing the bags and jewelry online. In about a week, my bank account would have a cool nine-figure balance. Thinking about it, I collapsed onto the bed, a wave of relief washing over me. I just had to get through this week. The door opened, and the bed dipped beside me. A familiar arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into Caleb’s embrace. I stiffened. “What are you doing back?” Shouldn’t he be with Lily tonight? Caleb propped himself up on one arm, his other hand already unbuttoning his shirt. “This is my house. Where else would I be?” With that, he captured my chin, his lips descending on mine, stealing the air from my lungs. Remembering what I’d seen at the estate, I turned my head away, making up an excuse. “Don’t. You’re all sweaty today. You feel gross.” “So demanding,” he chuckled, playfully tapping my nose. He shrugged off his shirt, revealing his lean, muscular torso. “Fine. I’ll go shower.” He took two steps toward the bathroom, then paused. As if remembering something, he turned back, scooped me up into his arms, and declared, “We’ll shower together.” What? The bathroom was steamy, the sound of dripping water echoing off the tiles. Caleb’s gaze landed on me, his eyes darkening with desire. His kisses were a relentless storm, leaving me breathless and clinging to him just to stay upright. But then, to my surprise, just as we reached the point of no return, Caleb let me go. “Be a good girl and go out first, kitten. I’ll join you after I’m done.” I was stunned for a moment, but then understanding dawned. A man’s energy is finite. Now that he had a new favorite, he couldn’t very well waste it on his old one. Out with the old, in with the new. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the day, but a dull ache began to throb in my lower abdomen. I pulled out my phone and started searching for clinics, planning to schedule an abortion for as soon as I left town. A long time passed, and Caleb still hadn’t come out of the bathroom. I had no idea what he was doing in there. I was so tired I drifted off to sleep, my phone still clutched in my hand, its screen lit up. I was shaken awake by Caleb. He had pulled me into his arms and was staring at me with a knowing, half-smiling expression that made my stomach clench with guilt. “W-what is it?” He tilted his head, studying me. “Kitten, is there something you want to tell me?” I was completely baffled. “No?” “Really?” His fingertips trailed down from my shoulder, coming to rest on my lower stomach, where they drew a slow, deliberate circle. My eyes flickered to my phone on the nightstand, and a terrible premonition washed over me. Did he see my search history? Does he know? I looked at him, stammering, his expression unreadable. In that moment, my mind raced, desperately trying to invent a plausible excuse for my clinic research. “I… I was just…” “Are you short on cash?” he asked suddenly. My words died in my throat. I stared at him, confused. “The guy from the designer resale shop just called. Said you’re trying to sell off all the bags I gave you.” “Explain,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Why are you selling everything?” Oh, it’s about that. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and quickly spun a lie. “They’re all last season’s styles. They’re just taking up space. I figured I might as well sell them.” Caleb was sharp. He honed in on the key point. “So the old bags are out of season. Then we’ll buy new ones.” “I’ll have my assistant buy every new design from this season’s collection tomorrow. You can pick whatever you like.” Just as I was about to relax, Caleb added casually, “Kitten, why do you keep glancing at your phone when you talk to me? Is there some dark secret in there?” “Let me see?” My blood ran cold. I immediately tore my gaze from the phone and threw my arms around his neck, nuzzling the small mole by his nose. I softened my voice, making it sweet and seductive. “What secrets could I possibly have from you?” The silver snake, which had been draped over his shoulder, chose that moment to flick its tail around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard abdomen. He let out a contented hum. “Relax. I’m not going to check your phone. I trust you that much.” He added, “And I know you wouldn’t dare do anything to cross me.” I nodded vigorously. He was right. Quietly skipping town hardly counted as crossing him, did it? Just one more week, and I would be saying goodbye to Caleb Hawthorne forever. But I had severely underestimated how perceptive the Hawthornes could be. 7 It was the old Mr. Hawthorne’s birthday, and Caleb had to return to the family estate for the celebration. In previous years, it was always a private family affair, and I was never invited. But this was his grandfather’s eightieth, a grand banquet, and Caleb insisted I accompany him. An event like this required a formal gown. Caleb had bought me many, but they were inconvenient for a quick getaway, so I’d already sold them at a discount on the secondhand market. Only one remained—a wine-red dress that hadn’t found a buyer. It was from a time when I was much thinner, and the waist was incredibly tight. Squeezing into it was a struggle, and it made my lower abdomen bulge slightly. I consciously sucked in my stomach, terrified Caleb would notice. Everything was going fine until the toasts. A group of children, roughhousing, came running in our direction, on a direct collision course with my belly. I instinctively took a step back, forgetting to hold my breath. Caleb’s little niece ran right up to me, placing her small hand on my stomach. “Auntie Chloe,” she asked in her sweet, childish voice, “your tummy used to be flat. Why is it poofy now?” Caleb’s hand, holding his wine glass, froze. His gaze dropped to my stomach. It was too late to suck it in now; it would be too obvious. I bent down slightly and explained to the little girl, “Because the food at the party is so delicious, Auntie ate a lot and got a food baby.” But the little girl shook her head, her expression serious. “No, it’s not.” “Auntie, you have a baby in your tummy.” A hush fell over the nearby tables. All eyes turned to us. As if to make sure everyone heard, her voice rose to a near-shout. “It’s true! I’m not lying! There’s a baby moving in Auntie’s tummy! It just kicked my hand!” Panic flared in my chest, but I kept a pleasant smile on my face. “There’s no baby in Auntie’s tummy,” I cooed. “When you eat a lot of food, your tummy has to work to digest it. Of course it’s going to move around.” The little girl was about to argue further, but thankfully her mother swooped in and whisked her away. The excuse was plausible enough. I thought I’d managed to smooth things over, but when I turned back, I found Caleb studying me with a thoughtful, penetrating gaze. “Kitten, if I remember correctly, you haven’t had your period in three months, have you?” My funds were secured. I was leaving tomorrow. I couldn’t let things fall apart now. I forced myself to remain calm, nodding nonchalantly. “That’s right. You know my cycle has always been irregular.” Fearing another question would expose everything, I faked a small hiccup. “Wow, I’m so full. I need to go for a walk to digest.” Caleb couldn’t join me. A line of people was waiting to toast him, and he had to work the room. I wandered alone in the estate’s sprawling gardens. As I walked, my eyes were drawn to a lit window on the third floor of the main house. It was a wing that had always been empty before, but tonight it was brightly illuminated. Two maids carrying trays of food were walking and chatting. “Mr. Caleb is so attentive to that Miss Song. He’s worried she’ll be hungry, so he’s having all her favorite dishes sent up.” “And for someone as busy as him, he even remembered she’s allergic to seafood. He specifically told the kitchen not to use any.” “With the new girl here, I guess Miss Bell is on her way out, huh?” “Probably. That Song girl is only nineteen, a blank slate, easy to mold. Miss Bell is twenty-two now. Mr. Caleb has had her for years; he must be bored by now.” I stood hidden behind a large sycamore tree. They didn’t see me as they continued their conversation, heading towards the third floor. I sniffled, a strange sense of melancholy washing over me. Caleb didn’t even try to hide his affections. Even the staff could see he had a new girl in his heart. A voice cut through the silence from behind me. “Miss Bell. Since Caleb has a new favorite, why don’t you consider coming with me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393581”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The tour bus carrying my mother-in-law and son overturned on a winding mountain road. The entire vehicle was caught on a tree, dangling precariously over a cliff, ready to plummet at any moment. My husband, Mark, was the captain of the nearest rescue squad. But when the police called for aid, they discovered he’d taken his entire team off-duty to attend his old flame’s son’s school competition. In my last life, I had to beg a friend to physically drag him from that school to save our family. But because his old flame’s son didn’t win first place, she felt humiliated and cut ties with him completely. Mark was also fired from the rescue squad for his dereliction of duty. After my mother-in-law and son were discharged from the hospital, he tied me and my friend up and threw us from that same cliff. “If it weren’t for you,” he’d screamed, “I wouldn’t have lost everything!” This time, his old flame’s son won his first-place trophy. But this time, Mark would never smile again. 1 The piercing wail of sirens sliced through the air. A sharp, urgent rapping on my car window startled me. “Ma’am, have you called for rescue?” A jolt shot through me. I turned, staring blankly at the scene before me, the chaos slowly registering. It took a moment to realize what had happened. I had been reborn. In my previous life, my mother-in-law had forgotten her scarf and called for me to bring it to her. By the time I arrived, the tour bus had already left. She told me to just follow them in my car. Then, chaos. I never knew what happened, but the bus ahead of me suddenly swerved, lost control, and plunged off the side of the mountain. I had frantically called my husband, Mark, but he’d hung up on me with an irritated sigh. I’d then called the official emergency line, only to be told that Mark had taken his entire squad off the clock to attend an event at his old flame Evelyn’s son’s school. The police officer’s voice pulled me back to the present. My hand tightened on my phone. The phantom pain of my own bones shattering on the rocks below still lingered. Seeing my stunned silence, the officer must have thought I was in shock. He pulled out his own phone and made the call right in front of me. He received the exact same answer I had in my past life. Just then, my phone rang, a desperate, tinny sound. It was my mother-in-law. “Claire! You have to save me and Leo! My battery is about to die! Call Mark, tell him to come save us!” The officer leaned in. “You have family on that bus?” “Yes,” I said, my voice shaking. “My mother-in-law and my son. My husband is Mark, the captain of the local rescue squad.” “Then call him! Now! We’ll contact other units in the meantime.” I dialed Mark’s number, the officer watching me intently. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. His voice, the one I had come to despise, crackled through the speaker. “Didn’t I tell you not to call me? I’m cheering for Zac right now!” “Mark, the bus Mom and Leo were on went off a cliff,” I said, my voice tight with urgency. “It’s caught on a tree, but it won’t hold for long. You have to come now!” Suddenly, another voice took over the line—Evelyn’s. “Claire, please, have a heart. Zac doesn’t have a father. It means so much to him to have Mark and his team here, cheering him on. Please don’t make him leave. I don’t want to ruin this for my son.” She continued, her voice taking on a martyred tone. “I know you’ve always been insecure about our past, but I promised you I would never interfere with your family. You don’t have to lie like this to get him to leave. If it makes you feel better, I’ll never contact him again after today.” Her voice broke into a sob. Mark snatched the phone back, his voice thick with rage. “You’d use my own mother and son to lie? Are you even human, Claire? The more you act like this, the less I ever want to come back to that house! I’m warning you, don’t bother me again today!” He was about to hang up when the officer took the phone from my hand. “This is Officer Miller with the Westbrook Police Department. Your wife is not lying. The situation here is critical. I’ve already contacted your squad’s dispatch, and they confirmed your entire unit is off-site. I need you and your team back here immediately. There are thirty-four lives hanging in the balance!” But the phone only erupted in a chorus of jeers from Mark’s men. “Who is this guy?” one of them slurred. “I know people at Westbrook PD. Never heard of an Officer Miller.” “Yeah, Captain’s on a pretty short leash at home,” another chimed in. “Can’t you give the guy a break? And making up a story is one thing, but why call the squad? You trying to get us all in trouble?” Even Officer Miller’s face flushed with anger at their blatant disrespect. I leaned in and whispered to him, “Please, just call another unit. That bus doesn’t have much time.” In my last life, they hadn’t believed me either. The school was close, so I had called my friend Nathan, who worked nearby. He had rushed over and found the principal, forcing Mark and his team to return. But in the end, that act of kindness had only gotten both of us killed. This time, I wouldn’t drag an innocent person down with me. But Mark had overheard my whisper. His voice turned venomous. “Enough, Claire! Who else are you going to drag into this? I know every firefighter and rescue worker in a fifty-mile radius. You dare call any of them, and I swear, I’ll show you what happens to liars!” 2 He slammed the phone down. Officer Miller was livid. “I don’t believe this. Does this guy think he’s some kind of king, that a mere squad captain can just ignore a direct order?” He started furiously dialing numbers on his own phone. I sighed. The sad truth was, Mark did have that kind of influence. He’d worked at nearly every fire station in the area. He could never get promoted, so he’d finally jumped ship when the new rescue squad offered him a captaincy right out of the gate. “It’s better to call a team from further away,” I urged. “We’re running out of time.” I knew from my past life that the bus, including rescue time, had held on for exactly forty minutes before it fell. Even with Mark’s team arriving relatively quickly back then, half the passengers had still plunged to their deaths. They could have saved everyone. But because his mother and son were at the back of the bus, he’d recklessly focused on them first. His actions unbalanced the vehicle, snapping a crucial branch and accelerating its fall. This time, even without his interference, the bus had an hour at most. A team from the next county would take about forty minutes to get here. It was tight, but at least some lives could be saved. As if on cue, my phone rang again. It was Kevin, one of Mark’s former colleagues and a frequent dinner guest at our house. “Claire, you’re putting me in a tough spot,” he said, his voice wheedling. “You and Mark shouldn’t let your little fights get this big.” “Dispatch just assigned us the call, and then Mark called me personally. You know, filing a false police report is a serious offense. You’re wasting emergency resources.” Officer Miller snatched the phone, furious. “I am the one who called dispatch. This is Officer Miller from the Westbrook PD—” Kevin cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, save it. Mark told me about you. There’s no Miller at Westbrook. Tell Claire to stop the theatrics. I’m doing her a favor here. I already had the alert cancelled for her.” 3 My mother-in-law called again. The background was filled with screams of terror. “Help us! Did you call Mark or not?” “I did, Mom. He’s not coming.” A torrent of abuse erupted from the phone. “You useless waste of space! I told Mark he never should have married you! You can’t even do one simple thing right!” Then, my son Leo’s voice, sharp and cruel. “Mom, why are you so useless? If Mommy Evelyn were here, she would have made Dad come save us by now!” Tears streamed down my face, hot and immediate. This was the family I had poured my heart and soul into maintaining. A husband who only had eyes for his old flame, a mother-in-law who despised my very existence, and a son—a son who had been turned against me, who called another woman ‘Mommy.’ My mother-in-law had always preferred Evelyn, the gentle, domestic type. I was a media executive, a career woman who had to network and meet clients. I couldn’t be like Evelyn, revolving my entire life around Mark. But for years, I was the one who paid for the house, the cars, every single expense. I made sure they had the best of everything, and in return, I received not a single shred of gratitude. I had wanted to make it work, to hold our family together. When my mother-in-law was bedridden after a surgery, I took a long leave of absence to be her full-time caregiver, handling everything from her meals to her bedpan. Her attitude had just started to soften when Evelyn reappeared with a son in tow. My mother-in-law not only rented an apartment for them in our neighborhood but also insisted they come to our house for meals every single day. Evelyn won my son over with junk food and cheap toys, turning him against me to the point where, for a long time, he called her ‘Mommy’ and referred to me only by my first name. Mark had taken our entire life savings and used it to buy Evelyn and her son a large house. “Don’t overthink it, Claire,” he’d said. “I owe this to her. As my wife, you should share this burden with me.” I was furious, but for the sake of a love I thought was real, for the memory of our first three happy years together, I had endured it. I never imagined my endurance would cost me my life. Suddenly, a rock flew through the air and struck my forehead. A warm trickle of blood ran down my face. Several other family members of the passengers had arrived, and they were throwing whatever they could find at me. “My mother is on that bus! She called me and said your husband is the rescue captain! Why isn’t he here?” “He has no right to abandon his post! This is negligent homicide! If my mom dies, I’ll make sure your whole family pays!” Clutching my bleeding head, I scrambled back into my car and tried to video call Mark. He declined it instantly and sent a text. “Stop your games! Do you want a divorce? Is that it?” Then, he blocked me. I tried his teammates. I tried Evelyn. One by one, I found myself blocked by all of them. I called my mother-in-law’s number again. It went straight to voicemail. Her phone was dead. It seems fate has made its decision, I thought, a cold resignation washing over me. I’ve done all I can. 4 The chaos outside intensified. Someone screamed, “It’s slipping! The bus is slipping! It’s not going to hold!” Despite the hatred churning in my gut, I couldn’t bear to watch all those innocent people die. I rushed out of the car and looked down at the horrifying scene. As a last resort, I called Nathan. Before I could even speak, his voice came through, urgent and breathless. “I’m almost there! I’ve got a chopper! Just hold on!” I was stunned, but he hung up before I could ask any questions. Moments later, a helicopter appeared in the distance, flying directly over the teetering bus. Nathan was the first one to rappel down, beginning the rescue. I could see his equipment wasn’t standard-issue, and someone in the helicopter was frantically giving him hand signals. But his presence was a beacon of hope for everyone. I heard my mother-in-law screaming from a window at the back of the bus. “Save me first! Are you deaf? I’m an old woman! Save me!” But I also heard the commander in the helicopter shouting to Nathan, “Follow my instructions, or you’ll send everyone plunging to their deaths!” The process was slow, but Nathan was calm and methodical, bringing people up one by one. We all stood on the roadside, holding our breath for him. Twenty minutes later, the roar of more helicopters filled the sky. The professional rescue teams had finally arrived. Tears of relief streamed down my face. The other families were embracing, sobbing with joy. “They’re saved! They’re saved!” I glanced at my phone. My heart lurched. There were only twenty minutes left before the bus would fall. In my past life, only two helicopters had come, and with Mark’s reckless interference, many hadn’t been saved. But this time, with so many rescuers, maybe twenty minutes would be enough. I stared at my phone, the timer on the screen a torturous countdown. With five minutes left, everyone had been rescued except for my mother-in-law and Leo, who were at the very back of the bus. A rescuer lowered a harness to them, instructing her to secure herself and Leo. But my mother-in-law threw a fit. “What kind of terrible service is this? You expect us to do it ourselves? Stop wasting time and get down here and strap us in! What if we do it wrong and fall? Will you take responsibility then?” The bus was tilted at such a precarious angle that the weight of one more person would send it over the edge. The rescuer pleaded with her, but she refused to listen, arguing relentlessly. As they argued, the countdown on my phone hit zero.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393577”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My brother was drugged, and I was the one he turned to. In the haze of his fevered need, I undid the buttons of my blouse. When I found out I was pregnant, my parents revealed a lifelong secret—we weren’t biological siblings—and told him to marry me. The day he agreed, he went out street racing and crashed his car. I didn’t care that he was paralyzed from the waist down. I was determined to be his bride. I thought he would be moved, that we would grow old together. On our wedding night, I woke to the acrid sting of smoke. Our villa was on fire. My first thought was to get him out. Instead, he smashed a vase over my head. As my consciousness faded, I heard his voice, as cold as ice. “You and our parents destroyed my love for Sophie. I’ve already signed over the entire family fortune to her as compensation.” “You all ruined my life. Now, you can die with me.” … I was jolted awake by Caleb’s ragged, pained breathing. I opened my eyes. I was in my own familiar bedroom. There were no festive red decorations, no thick, choking smoke. I was reborn. The shock and joy made my head spin. “Kate, get me a glass of water.” Caleb’s hoarse voice came from the next room, sending a chill down my spine. I glanced at the watch on my wrist. A thin layer of sweat instantly broke out on my back. I had been reborn to the night he was drugged. The sticky warmth of blood blinding me, the searing pain of the fire… it all came rushing back. My first instinct was to run, to get as far away from Caleb as possible. But before I could even find my shoes, he was standing in my doorway. “Kate, I’ve already called Sophie. I need you to drive and pick her up now.” Even through the haze of whatever drug was coursing through him, the suspicion and disgust in his eyes were unmistakable. A bold thought sparked in my mind. He was reborn, too. I nodded numbly, grabbing my car keys. I squeezed past him, my body turned away, and hurried out the door. As I stepped out of the villa, I could still feel the prickling discomfort of his gaze burning into my back. The address he gave me was for an apartment near his office. So, Caleb and Sophie had been living together this early on. He had said I destroyed his love for her. He wasn’t lying. The moment Sophie saw my car, she wrenched open the passenger door and slid in. “How is he now?” She looked anxious, but maybe it was just me, but I could see a flicker of triumphant joy in her eyes. “You’ll see when we get there.” I didn’t want to talk to her. It wasn’t jealousy. It was because neither my mother nor I had ever liked her. Sophie was a scholarship student our family sponsored. At first, my parents adored her. She was hardworking, ambitious, and an incredible student—the valedictorian of her entire city. My parents had personally driven to her hometown to bring her to New York for college. My mother was thrilled. Sophie was a year ahead of me, and with her academic prowess, she could tutor me through my senior year of high school. She was diligent, reporting my progress to my father every week, even after I told her my mother was the one who managed my studies. I always felt there was a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes, but I told myself I was just being paranoid. That changed the night she was harassed by a drunk man. She called my father, crying. When he rushed over, she threw herself into his arms. My father, completely startled, shot his hands up in the air, his face turning pale. My mother, who had just parked the car, saw the whole thing. Through her tears, Sophie explained she saw my father as a paternal figure and was just terrified. My parents comforted her, but after that, she was never invited to our home again, and my father ceased to be involved in her affairs. After graduating, she wanted to study abroad. She came to our house with a basket of fruit, looking pitiable as she asked my parents to lend her money. My mother, never one to be stingy, had her secretary wire her fifty thousand dollars. The day before she was supposed to leave, she came to say goodbye and ran into Caleb, who had just returned home after finishing his master’s degree overseas. The next day, Sophie returned the money to my mother. She said she’d had a change of heart and decided to be more practical, to work and earn the money for her education herself. Caleb, who was on his way out, saw her standing there—dressed simply, her face set with determination—and his eyes filled with admiration. A month later, Sophie was hired at our family’s company as Caleb’s personal secretary. I told Caleb that Sophie wasn’t as pure as she seemed, that she had ulterior motives for getting close to him. “Kate,” he’d said dismissively, “not everyone is as obsessed with romance as you are.” Less than a year later, he had moved her into his private apartment. I pushed the accelerator, the car flying down the road. Sophie gripped the handle, her knuckles white. “Kate, I get that you’re upset, but you’re going to get us killed!” 2 I watched as Sophie rushed into the villa. I didn’t follow. I just sat in the car, my mind a blank slate. I knew exactly what was about to happen between Caleb and Sophie. This wasn’t jealousy. My horrific death in my past life—and the fact that I had dragged my parents down with me—had forced me to see the truth. My love for Caleb was poison to him. Sophie’s words just now had only confirmed it. “Kate, he’s your brother,” she had sneered in the car. “Your twisted feelings for him drove him to study halfway across the world. Now he has me. You need to give up.” So, Caleb had known I loved him all along. He went abroad not for his education, but to escape me. If I had known that sooner, I never would have seen his suffering that night and offered myself to him. Just before she got out of the car, Sophie had added one last thing. “You’re a grown woman now. It’s time you found someone suitable to date and marry.” She was afraid I’d keep clinging to Caleb. She didn’t need to worry. I had no feelings left for him whatsoever. I sat in the car all night. As dawn broke, I finally got out and went inside. Caleb was walking down the stairs, dressed in a silk pajama robe. “Where were you last night?” he asked. His neck was dotted with fresh, pink love bites, and his voice was a husky, lazy drawl. “I was with Mia,” I said. Mia was my best friend; Caleb had met her before. The fact that he even thought to ask where I’d been gave me a flicker of hope. Maybe he had let go of the past, too. Maybe now we could finally go back to being normal siblings. “I know you look down on Sophie’s background, that you think she’s poor,” he said, his tone hardening. “But let me tell you, she is the woman I am going to marry. From now on, you will treat her with respect.” When had I ever looked down on her background? A confused expression must have crossed my face. “Don’t give me that arrogant look,” he snapped. “She sacrificed herself to clean up the mess you made.” I was even more confused. “What are you talking about?” Caleb’s patience wore thin. “Are you going to deny that you were the one who drugged me last night? Sophie is such an innocent girl. She wanted to save herself for our wedding night, and you ruined it.” “I didn’t,” I retorted, my voice rising. I had loved Caleb for years, but I would never resort to such a cheap, disgusting trick. “I had dinner with Sophie and came straight home. The only thing I had after that was the glass of milk you always leave on my nightstand. If it wasn’t you, who was it?” In my past life, I had always wondered why he never investigated who drugged him. I just assumed it happened while he was out and he was too embarrassed to talk about it. I never knew he thought it was me. No wonder he hated me so much. Hated me enough to want to burn our parents alive just to make me suffer. Hated me enough that he couldn’t even bear the thought of my child—his child, growing inside me for six months—taking its first breath. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and my eyes stung. “Believe what you want. But it wasn’t me.” Just then, the door to Caleb’s room opened. Sophie peeked out, wearing one of his button-down shirts, looking like a startled little rabbit. “Caleb… is Kate mad at me?” 3 Caleb’s eyes shot me a warning look. “Kate wouldn’t do that,” he said, his voice softening as he looked at Sophie. “She’ll only wish us the best.” “He’s right, sister-in-law,” I said, forcing a smile. “You rescued my brother. I’ll speak to Mom and Dad for you, I’ll get them to agree to the wedding.” A flash of glee crossed Sophie’s face. Caleb’s eyes narrowed, filled with suspicion and doubt. What was there to doubt? He was willing to die for her. Even if she was a manipulative monster, I wouldn’t risk my parents’ safety for anything. “Don’t make things difficult for your aunt and uncle,” Sophie said, her voice soft and demure. “I know I’m not good enough for Caleb. I just want to be by his side.” So, that’s the type he likes. The green-tea bitch type. No wonder he never loved me. Caleb wrapped a protective arm around her. When he wasn’t looking, Sophie shot me a triumphant smirk. “Kate,” she cooed, “your brother… he ripped my clothes. Could I borrow something of yours?” “What about that dress I bought you last month?” Caleb said, not looking at me. “I’ve never seen you wear it. If you don’t like it, just give it to Sophie.” That was his birthday present to me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it; he knew perfectly well I cherished it too much to wear it. He wanted to take back a gift he’d given me. My heart gave a painful little flutter, but the feeling quickly subsided. Sophie put on my dress and twirled around beautifully. Ignoring me completely, she threw her arms around Caleb, pouting and asking if she looked pretty. It didn’t bother me. This time, all I wanted was for my parents and me to live. My parents were on vacation for two weeks. The day they returned, Caleb immediately announced his intention to marry Sophie. When I got home, the floor was littered with the shards of a shattered teacup. My mother was grim-faced, rubbing my father’s back soothingly. Caleb sat opposite them, his expression unreadable. “Mom! Dad!” I ran over and threw myself into their arms, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. Their faces instantly softened. “Look at you, still such a child,” Dad said, ruffling my hair. Mom pulled me onto the sofa beside them. “Your brother wants to marry his secretary. What do you think, Kate?” my father asked. He doted on me the most. Caleb’s gaze, cold and distant, shifted to me as well. “I think it’s wonderful. Sophie and Caleb are a perfect match.” My mother’s brow furrowed. “Do you really think so?” “Mom, Caleb is twenty-six. He has the right to choose his own happiness. We should support him.” What good would it do to object? We couldn’t stop him anyway. Seeing my parents were still hesitant, I continued. “It doesn’t matter if you like Sophie or not. Caleb likes her. After they’re married, we can live separately. I’ll stay with you and Dad forever.” My words seemed to ease their tension. I quickly shot Caleb a meaningful look. It was a silent signal we’d had since childhood. Whenever he wanted something our parents disapproved of, I was the one who would smooth things over before he made his case. “Mom, Dad, after Sophie and I are married, we’ll take good care of you. Please, give us your blessing.” Seeing Caleb kneel solemnly on the floor, I added my own pleas. With no room left for negotiation, my parents finally, reluctantly, agreed. Caleb got his wish. He would marry Sophie. The tragedy of my past life shouldn’t repeat itself now. My clenched fists slowly relaxed. After my parents went to their room to rest, I returned to mine. I had just opened my journal to write when the door was suddenly thrown open. I looked up. It was Caleb. His eyes fell on my open journal, and his face instantly darkened. I had barely stood up before his hand was clamped around my neck. “Kate, are you still writing down those filthy thoughts you have about me?” His hand was large, his grip tightening. I couldn’t breathe. “What… are you… saying?” I choked out. Caleb snatched the journal. “Isn’t this the same kind of diary you used as a teenager to document your incestuous feelings for me?” He had read my diary. He had dared to read my private thoughts. Rage and humiliation burned through me. I clawed at his hand, wrenching it free. I grabbed the journal and threw it at his chest. “What is wrong with you? Isn’t it enough that I’m letting you have her?” I screamed. “It was my mistake to love you! I don’t love you anymore! What more do you want?” I rarely got angry with him. He seemed stunned. “You love reading my diary so much? Then read it!” I sobbed. “I am writing about a man in there. It’s just not you.” With that, I shoved him aside and ran out of the room. 4 “You really agreed to date my brother? You’re really going to be my sister-in-law?” Mia’s shriek in the middle of the coffee shop turned several heads. I quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. “I ran into him the other day,” I mumbled, my face flushing. “We just… hit it off.” Mia rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Spill. You turned my brother down last time he asked you out. How did you two get together?” Mia’s brother, Leo Harrison, had indeed confessed his feelings for me six months ago. Back then, my world revolved around Caleb, and I had rejected him. This time, after I was reborn, I was determined to correct my past mistakes. But at home, Caleb and Sophie were a constant presence, their sickeningly sweet displays a daily torture. Sophie never missed an opportunity to flaunt her ownership of him. Even though I retreated again and again, assuring her I had no designs on Caleb, it was useless. I had no choice but to escape. One night, feeling miserable, I went to a bar. I had a few too many drinks and was cornered by some creep outside the restroom. Just as tears of panic started to well in my eyes, Leo appeared out of nowhere and laid the guy out with a single punch. When he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe my tears, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Leo, you’re like a character out of an old movie. Who even carries a handkerchief anymore?” He just shook the plaid cloth in his hand. “Do you have any idea how expensive this piece of fabric is?” “It’s not as convenient as a tissue,” I teased. He sighed and nodded in agreement, then tossed the priceless handkerchief into the trash. “Whatever Kate says, goes.” Mia used to complain that her brother wasn’t as cool and refined as mine, that he was more like a reckless playboy. But that “playboy” had taken over the Harrison family business and, in just three years, nearly doubled the company’s market value, earning him a fearsome reputation in Chicago’s business world. That little handkerchief brought us closer. Whenever I was in a bad mood, I would text him, and he always managed to say something strange and unexpected that would make me laugh. In this new life, the most relaxed I ever felt was when I was talking to Leo. “I thought CEOs were supposed to be busy. How do you have time to chat with me all day?” I texted him once. He replied almost instantly. “Because it’s you on the other end. I don’t want to make you wait a second longer than you have to. I’ve basically been holding my phone 24/7 these past few days.” Was this what it felt like to be loved? It was a feeling Caleb had never given me. This time, I wanted to know what it was like. I agreed to give things a try with Leo. I’ve kept a diary since I was a child. The man in my recent entries was him. I don’t know if Caleb read it or not. When I returned home, the diary was sitting neatly on my desk. Caleb was gone for several days. I took the opportunity to tell my parents about my relationship with the heir to the Harrison fortune. I made them promise to come live with me after I was married. They nodded indulgently, as if humoring a child, but I didn’t care. They had agreed. They had to stay by my side. That night, Caleb brought Sophie home for dinner. Dressed in designer clothes, she almost managed to look elegant. The mood at the table was tense, but thankfully, there were no major blow-ups. After dinner, we were all sitting in the living room. “Caleb, Sophie,” my father began, “we won’t object to your marriage, but there are some things we need to make clear beforehand.” Caleb’s gaze kept drifting to me, making me deeply uncomfortable. Sophie sat up straight, her eyes gleaming as she looked at my father. “Caleb is getting married, and Kate has a boyfriend now. To avoid any future conflicts, I’m telling you both now: the Vance family assets will be split equally between the two of you.” Before Caleb could say anything, Sophie blurted out, “That’s not fair! Kate is a daughter, after all. She’ll be marrying into another family. That’s basically just handing over our family’s wealth to outsiders!” My mother, who had barely looked at Sophie all evening, spoke up, her voice dripping with ice. “You’re not even married into this family yet, and you’re already trying to call the shots. Isn’t it a bit early for that?” I looked at Caleb. He was looking at me, a strange smile playing on his lips. “Maybe Kate’s boyfriend is only with her for our family’s money.” He pulled Sophie closer. “I agree. A 50/50 split isn’t fair.” Sophie snuggled against him. “Kate is the adopted one. I don’t mind supporting her for the rest of her life. She can marry whoever she wants and continue to live here.” My parents’ faces turned terrifyingly grim. I saw my father’s shoulders begin to tremble slightly. “Who told you Kate was adopted?” my father’s voice was dangerously low. “The one who was adopted… was you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393576”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Her father saved my mother’s life. For that, I left my home in the secluded mountain Glades, bound to him by a life-debt. The terms were simple: stay by his daughter Seraphina’s side for six years, to repay ninety-nine acts of grace. Only then would I be free. For six years, I catered to her insatiable appetites, exploring every fantasy with her, letting her drag me into the thrill of the outdoors. She seemed to love me with a fierce, possessive passion, once buying me an entire yacht just to see me smile. The final act of grace remained unfulfilled. She promised me a surprise, something special for my birthday. That day came, and on a massive screen before all our friends, she played a video of me, naked and entangled with a much older woman. My five-year-old daughter, Lisa, smashed my birthday cake into my face. “You’re a bad man!” she shrieked, her little voice cracking. “You’re not my daddy!” Cream and blood slid down my cheek. I looked at Seraphina, lost. She was laughing, her arm linked with her childhood sweetheart, Joey. “Your mother was a home-wrecking whore who seduced my father and drove my own mother to her grave,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “I wanted everyone to see just how filthy you really are.” “Kevin,” she said, her voice a cruel mockery of our shared name, “the final debt you owe me is to watch Joey and me get married.” I stared at her, my world tilting on its axis. The woman who had been whispering sweet nothings and feeding me wine just a moment ago now looked at me with chilling indifference. I stumbled forward, my voice a whisper. “Sera… there must be some mistake…” She shoved me, hard. I tumbled back, splashing into the icy water of the pool. As I flailed, gasping for air, her words rained down on me like shards of glass. “Stop acting so innocent! You and that bitch mother of yours know exactly what you did!” she screamed. “Do you have any idea how much it sickened me to even look at your face for these past six years? Now that Joey is back, you can get the hell out of my sight.” Lisa watched me with cold eyes. She picked up an empty wine bottle from a nearby table and hurled it at my head. It struck my forehead with a sickening crack. As blood streamed down my face, she turned to Joey and smiled, a sweet, terrifying smile. “Joey, I punished the bad man. Can you be my daddy now?” In one single, brutal moment, the wife who had shared my bed and the daughter I had adored with all my heart turned on me, savaging me to win the affection of another man. The pain was a physical thing, a spear through my chest. Tears I couldn’t stop welled in my eyes and streamed down my face. “That’s a bit much, Sera,” a voice cut through the haze. It was Vanessa, Seraphina’s best friend. “Kevin has been with you for six years without any official title. He agreed to have a child with you when you didn’t want to get married, he even let Lisa take your name.” She had security guards pull me from the pool, my body shivering and broken. But her words only fueled Seraphina’s rage. “Oh, I underestimated you,” she scoffed, her eyes raking over me with disgust. “Sleeping with my best friend behind my back now, are we? You’re just as cheap as your mother.” “Always babbling about repaying some debt. I don’t have time for your little games. You’ll be in my debt for the rest of your life!” she spat. “Vanessa, you still want him? I left whip marks on him last night. Go on, take a bite.” Her words were daggers, each one twisting in my heart. There was a time when she would have destroyed anyone who dared call me a country bumpkin. Now, she was the one inflicting the deepest wounds. Her six years of tenderness and love had been a lie, a carefully constructed stage for this single, devastating act of revenge. All this time, she had hated me. I came to repay a debt, but I stayed because I had fallen in love with her. In her eyes, though, I was nothing more than a gold-digger, a parasite clinging to her wealth. I had been waiting for this birthday, hoping, praying she would finally agree to marry me. Instead, the ring she had custom-made now shone on Joey’s hand. Joey looked at me, his face a mask of contempt. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself in that video. Don’t tell me you weren’t a willing participant.” He put a protective arm around Seraphina. “You only had Lisa to trap her! You don’t even love your own daughter!” His accusations were a performance, meant not to defend her but to humiliate me. My face burned with shame and rage, but all I could do was shake my head, speechless. I couldn’t tell them it was Seraphina who had begged me to make those videos, that she was the one who promised me a real family, a real title, on this very day. A sharp, searing pain shot through my lower body, and my legs began to tremble uncontrollably. I felt a horrifying wetness, and saw blood beginning to stain my trousers. I met Seraphina’s gaze, my voice barely a croak. “Sera… I just had the enhancement surgery you wanted…” Joey scoffed. “Who knows which one of your little lovers that was for.” The air left my lungs. I swayed on my feet, the world dissolving into black spots. Vanessa rushed to my side, grabbing my arm. “Kevin, you need a hospital. Let me take you.” But my eyes were fixed on Seraphina. My voice was a dry, rasping sound. 2 “The ninety-eighth debt,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash. “You said you wanted me to get the enhancement, to give you a better experience.” A cruel smile touched her lips. “Do I need you? Your body is bland, uninteresting. The thought of touching you makes me want to vomit. Vanessa, he’s just a dog I kept. He’ll never be able to leave me.” I bit my lip, swallowing the question that clawed at my throat: What did Lisa and I ever mean to you? I already knew the answer would be nothing but more poison. Seraphina had planned this for six years, meticulously crafting a dream for me only to shatter it with her own hands the moment I believed it was real. How could she be so cruel? The pain in my groin intensified, a throbbing, relentless reminder of my own stupidity. My expression went numb. “Please,” I said, my voice flat. “Call an ambulance. The surgical wound has torn open.” Even as I lay on the operating table, her venomous messages kept coming. [Kevin, it’s just a torn stitch, not a death sentence. Your mother killed MINE.] [And don’t forget, next month, you’ll be witnessing my wedding to Joey.] She had promised to marry me, to stand before the world and give me a place by her side so no one would ever look down on me again. Now, all I had was shame and infamy. Because of a debt, my mother, who had died long ago, was branded a seductress. And I was left to endure Seraphina’s merciless revenge. The day of her wedding would be the day my debt was finally paid. The day I would finally leave. In the Glades, we have a saying: a broken heart is a debt that can never be repaid, but a faithless partner is a chain that must be broken. After I was discharged, Vanessa offered to drive me home. I managed a weak smile and refused. “Seraphina will take it out on you. You two have been friends since you were kids. It’s not worth fighting over me.” She looked at my pale face, hesitating. “You really love her that much? Even after all this, you can’t let her go?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “The debt I owe her family… it’s almost paid in full.” She didn’t understand, of course. She just sighed. “You and Sera were never going to work. You’re from different worlds. She and Joey grew up together. You should just try to forget her. As for Lisa, the Steinbergs will take good care of her.” “I’ll help you leave town tomorrow,” she offered. “It’ll be better than watching her get married.” I just shook my head. To the world, I was the pathetic lover, clinging to Seraphina despite her cruelty. No one knew the truth. They didn’t know that my mother’s lungs had failed, a rare condition our healers in the Glades couldn’t treat. It was Seraphina’s father, a visiting scholar, who had rushed her to the city, to the best doctors. Mrs. Steinberg had suffered from severe paranoia and delusions. She became convinced her husband was having an affair with my frail, bedridden mother. One day, in a state of psychosis, she threw herself from a balcony. My own mother passed away soon after. Mr. Steinberg, consumed by guilt, brought me to the city and begged me to stay by Seraphina’s side, who was shattered by the tragedy. It was he who invoked the old ways of my people, sealing the life-debt between us. The rules were absolute: until the debt was paid, I could not go home. Seraphina, lost in her own depression, developed a desperate need for physical intimacy, often keeping me awake all night. She thought my talk of “debts” was just a quaint joke. The tasks I completed were small things—watching a sunrise with her, taking her skiing. When someone once insulted me, calling me a country nobody, she had them secretly beaten. Living with her, day in and day out, I slowly, truly fell in love. When she told me she wanted our child, my heart soared. I thought that even after the debt was paid, I could stay with her forever. How wrong I was. The woman I loved for six years, the daughter I cherished… they now saw me as a thorn in their side. As I reached the gates of the Steinberg estate, a swarm of reporters appeared out of nowhere, their cameras flashing in my face. “Mr. Harrows! Is it true you’re the other man who broke up Seraphina Steinberg and her fiancé?” “Your sex tape is all over the internet! Why would you cheat on a woman like Ms. Steinberg with a sugar mama?” “We heard you were injured down there. Was it a client? Will it affect your… performance?” I tried to back away, but they swarmed me, laughing, taunting. One of them even tried to pull down my pants to “get a look.” They were like vultures, jeering as I stumbled and fell, clutching my chest, struggling to breathe. “Look at him, playing the victim again. Is that how you sell yourself, Harrows? Is that the type of thing these rich ladies go for?” “Check out the hickey on his neck. Must have been a wild night.” “Did he piss himself? Your pants are all wet!” They shoved me, pushing their cameras closer to film the fluid still seeping from my surgical wound. 3 I curled into a ball on the cold pavement, shaking. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, and I sobbed, the sound raw and humiliating. The villa gates swung open, and the reporters scattered like roaches. The butler stood there, his face a stone mask. I was left alone, a pathetic, broken heap on the ground. Staggering into the courtyard, I saw Lisa running towards me, her eyes wide and tearful. For a fleeting, hopeful second, she looked like the little girl I knew, the one before Joey had poisoned her mind. “My kite… it’s stuck in the tree…” Her voice was small and sad. Forgetting my own pain, I immediately followed her. But as I pulled on the kite string, a massive, buzzing hornet’s nest dropped from the branches, right onto my head. Lisa was already a safe distance away, laughing. “You stupid idiot!” she screamed, her face twisted with malice. “That’s for using me to get to my mommy! You deserve it!” A swarm of angry hornets enveloped me. Stinging fire erupted all over my exposed skin. I trembled, trying desperately to shield my face as a thousand tiny needles pierced me. Purple welts rose on my skin, and the shock slowly turned into a heart-shattering numbness. I remembered all those sleepless nights, walking the floors with a crying infant Lisa in my arms. The memory was now just a cruel joke. A peal of laughter echoed from above. Seraphina stood on the second-floor balcony, Joey’s arm wrapped around her waist, both of them watching my torment with amusement. “Look at him, Sera,” Joey chuckled. “He looks like a pig’s head.” He raised his voice to mock me. “Hey, Kevin! Think any of your rich old ladies will want you looking like that? I doubt anyone could stomach it.” The woman who used to fret over a paper cut was now watching me covered in stings, a satisfied smile on her face. This must have been what she wanted all along—to see me humiliated by my own daughter, branded a whore by the press. Numbly, I tried to get back to my room to treat the stings, to just lie down. But my belongings were piled in a heap outside the door to the small utility closet. Seraphina looked at me with pure disgust. “Trash belongs with the trash. You have some nerve, Kevin, still hanging around my house.” My eyelashes fluttered. “You forgot,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “I have to watch you get married.” A flicker of confusion, maybe even unease, crossed her face. She hadn’t expected that. She expected tears, pleading. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by her customary sneer. “I’m just worried you’ll stick around like a stray dog even after the wedding.” My face was a mask. After your heart has been shattered, the smaller cuts barely register. Once the ninety-nine debts are paid, I won’t linger for a second. A wife and daughter who despise me? They are no longer mine. I just wanted to rest, but the door to my miserable little room swung open. It was Joey, a smug smile on his face. “Kevin, old pal. Sera tells me you’re a fantastic cook. I’m craving some turtle soup. You know, to build up my strength.” Seraphina, seeing the angry red welts covering my body, actually frowned for a moment. A flicker of something—pity? guilt?—crossed her features. She almost seemed to think she’d gone too far. “He’s not a servant, Joey. I’ll have the chef make it.” But Joey just tightened his arm around her waist. “He’s going to be mooching off us after we’re married anyway. Might as well get him used to his new role.” I took a deep breath, about to refuse. “Didn’t you hear what Joey said?” Seraphina’s voice was sharp, all traces of softness gone. “Get moving or get out of my sight forever.” I couldn’t leave. Not yet. So I clenched my jaw and nodded. Fighting the agonizing itch of the stings, I stood in the kitchen, mechanically washing the ingredients. Joey leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. “Hurry it up. My… happiness with Seraphina tonight depends on you.” I bit my lip. “Is there anything else, Mr. Steinberg?” “Who do you think you are, putting on that righteous act?” He suddenly grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the sink. “Does a bedwarmer like you get to look at me with those eyes?” As I struggled, I knocked over a glass of water. Seraphina rushed in at the sound. Joey was already cradling his hand, hissing in pain. “Kevin’s jealous I’m marrying you! He threw boiling water on me!” “I didn’t—” Before I could finish, Seraphina’s palm cracked across my face. She looked at me, her eyes like ice. “Apologize.” A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I lowered my gaze, my voice dull. “It was my fault. Please forgive me, Mr. Steinberg.” Only then did Seraphina seem satisfied. She wrapped her arm around Joey’s and led him away. “Joey and I are going to pick up Lisa. Have dinner ready when we get back.” I was chopping vegetables when my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Are you Mr. Harrows? You’re listed as Seraphina Steinberg’s emergency contact. She’s been in a car accident. She needs surgery.” My mind flashed back. There was a time Seraphina loved hiking. Once, after a small landslide, I couldn’t reach her, her phone going straight to voicemail. I had run out of the house barefoot, frantic with worry, searching for her in the hills. 4 When she finally came home, safe and sound, she had found me, my feet bloody and torn. Her eyes had filled with tears as she cleaned my wounds. That night, she made me her sole emergency contact, promising that I would always be the first to know if anything ever happened to her. She never changed it. But everything else had. Lisa needed a blood transfusion, but the hospital was out of her rare O-negative type. My type. I watched them draw bag after bag of my blood until my lips were white and I was on the verge of passing out. Seraphina’s injuries were far more severe. Her liver was ruptured. She needed a transplant, and the waiting list was long. I didn’t want to wait. I had my bone marrow tested. I was a match. I insisted on being a living donor. The doctors argued, they warned me of the risks, but faced with my unyielding resolve, they finally, reluctantly, agreed. For the next month, I lay in a hospital bed, recovering. And every single day, all I heard were the glowing news reports about the heroic Joey Steinberg, who had so selflessly donated a part of his liver to save the love of his life. I had asked the doctors to keep my identity a secret. I never imagined someone would have the audacity to steal the credit. By the time I was discharged, the wedding was the next day. The Steinberg villa was draped in white silk and flowers. The moment I walked through the door, a teacup shattered at my feet. Lisa stood there, her face puffy with anger. “You dirty thing! You finally decided to come home!” she screamed. “Mommy was right! You just abandoned us!” Joey swept her into a gentle embrace, then fixed me with a look of disappointment. “Kevin. The moment Sera and Lisa were in trouble, you vanished. Now that they’re safe, you come crawling back.” Every word was a carefully aimed dart, painting me as the coward who had abandoned his family. Hearing him, Seraphina’s face hardened, and she shot me a look of pure disgust. “Just like your disgusting mother. The second you thought I was in real trouble, you ran off to screw someone else. Are you back because you’re afraid I’ll take revenge on you and your new lover?” She turned to Joey, her eyes soft with adoration. “While Joey was giving blood for Lisa and donating his liver for me, you were God knows where, with God knows who. I was right about you all along, Kevin. You’re a heartless, back-stabbing snake.” Their accusations no longer had the power to make me cry. I just felt… tired. On the day of the wedding, I tried to make myself invisible, hiding in a dark corner of the grand hall. But I could still feel the guests’ eyes on me, hear their whispers. “Is that him? The lover she kept for six years?” “I heard she doted on him. Why not marry him after the kid was born?” “Lover? Please. He was a toy. Something to pass the time. His sex tape is everywhere. God knows how many rich women have had a piece of him.” I tried to tune them out. But a moment later, one of Joey’s groomsmen approached me. “Mr. Steinberg needs you to help with his tie.” I was dragged towards the dressing room, the unhealed incision in my side protesting with a dull ache. When Lisa saw me approach, she scowled. “You’re so clumsy! Don’t you dare hurt him!” Seraphina stroked her daughter’s hair. “Our Lisa is such a good girl.” The three of them were a perfect, happy family, leaving me to stand awkwardly to the side. I knelt down and began to polish Joey’s expensive leather shoes. He smiled, rolling up his sleeve, revealing a delicate silver chain bracelet with a tiny bell that chimed softly. “Lisa said this brings good luck,” he said, his voice casual. My blood ran cold. My vision tunneled. It was my mother’s. The last thing she gave me before she died. I had searched for it everywhere. And all this time, Lisa had it, and she had given it to him. I clenched my jaw, my voice a dry rasp. “That’s mine.” Joey’s eyes immediately welled with tears. “Kevin, how can you do this to me? On my wedding day? Are you trying to slander me even now?” he whimpered. “I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t be marrying Seraphina!” He “accidentally” kicked out, his shoe grinding down on the back of my hand before I could pull it away. I fell back onto the floor. Lisa glared at me. “You made Joey upset! You deserve it!” Seraphina rushed to comfort him, her voice a soft coo. She glanced at me, at my numb, expressionless face, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. Was she wondering why I wasn’t crying? You can’t bleed from a heart that’s already turned to stone. I stood in the shadows, watching as Lisa presented them with the diamond-encrusted wedding rings. I watched as Joey lifted the veil and pressed his lips to Seraphina’s in a deep, passionate kiss. “I, Seraphina Steinberg,” she declared, her voice ringing through the hall, “take Joey to be my husband, for the rest of my life.” On my arm, the faint, crimson mark that symbolized the life-debt faded away, disappearing into my skin. The ceremony was over. The debt was paid. As the guests erupted in applause, I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Lisa’s sweet, childish voice pipe up. “I love having Joey as my daddy!” Their love was no longer mine. And I was finally going home. Later, as Seraphina was toasting with her guests, Joey’s arm around her waist, she found her eyes drifting to the dark corner where Kevin had been standing. The familiar silhouette was gone. He’s probably hiding somewhere, crying, she thought. No matter how much she hurt him, he would never have the strength to actually leave. She smiled and took a sip of champagne. Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a friend who had just returned from a trip abroad. “Sera? I just saw your little boy-toy at the airport. Where’s he off to?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393575”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The moment my boss led the new CEO into the conference room, my world stopped. “Ms. Lee, this is our team.” The woman was my ex-wife. Three years ago, she had trampled all over my heart and betrayed our love for her first love. Now, she stood there, her brow slightly furrowed, her eyes locked on me. My boss, a seasoned veteran of the corporate world, saw the look on her face and immediately understood we had a history. His gaze instantly shifted to me. “Mr. Miller and I are the project leads,” he announced, his voice a little too loud. “Quinn, now that you’ve tidied up the conference room, you can go.” He shot me a desperate look, practically begging me with his eyes to leave. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension. “This project must be discussed with Mr. Quinn. Mr. Davis, if you change the person in charge, the deal is off.” Everyone froze. “Ms. Lee… this… of course, of course! Quinn, you… you have a good talk with Ms. Lee!” The boss herded everyone out of the room, leaving me alone with her. Her name was Liana. Her eyes were slightly red as she choked out the question. “These past two years, where did you go? Why didn’t you answer my messages?” 1 Memories flooded back, a torrent of pain I had long since buried. But the hysteria of the past was gone. I just looked at her calmly. “Please, have a seat, Ms. Lee. Let’s discuss the project.” My indifference seemed to throw her. She stared at me, lost in thought for a moment, before finally speaking. “As long as you’re in charge of this project, I’ll sign.” I nodded. “That might be difficult.” Liana raised an eyebrow, then called my boss back in. She repeated her condition. My boss’s face lit up with joy, and he agreed immediately. After Liana left, I sat in the chair, my mind blank. For two years, I had told myself not to dwell on the past. It wasn’t worth it. But the more I tried to convince myself, the clearer the images became, a constant torture. I had finally crawled out of that shadow, only to run right back into her. Liana and I were married for five years. We went from high school sweethearts to husband and wife. On our fifth anniversary, she spent a fortune at an auction to acquire a national treasure that had been lost overseas—a jade bi disk carved with a dragon and a phoenix. She then donated it to the national museum in the name of her first love, Julian. During the press interview, she gazed at Julian, who stood beside her, her eyes overflowing with affection. “This jade disk is my birthday gift to Julian,” she’d said. “We discussed it, and he decided to donate it to the museum. We hope all of our nation’s lost treasures can find their way home, back to the ones they love.” The video went viral. Everyone knew about Liana’s undying love for Julian. The internet sang praises of their epic romance. Even her friends sent me smug, passive-aggressive texts. “Hey, Colin. Your wife’s in love.” “Congratulations,” I typed back. Then I looked at the comments on the interview. They were all filled with envy. “This is what a female CEO’s love looks like? I guess trophy husbands really do exist! I love it!” “Childhood sweethearts and first loves, she’s got all the bases covered!” I shook my head, a bitter smile on my face. I ate the dinner I had spent all day preparing, alone. I put away the flowers, peonies that had been flown in that morning, fresh and vibrant. Her favorite. Now, everything in the room seemed to mock me. It was our fifth anniversary. She was the one who had told me to prepare for it. I waited and waited, all for nothing. It was just an excuse to get me out of the way. In the video, her face was soft, her gaze on Julian tender and loving. With me, she always wore a mask of ice. In that moment, I was just… tired. It was like the last breath had finally left my body. The heart that had been hanging in suspense finally fell. I used to think it was just her personality, that she wasn’t a smiley person. Now I knew better. It was just that I wasn’t the one who made her smile. Our love? A self-deception that only I had believed in. I decided it was time to cut the cord, to stop torturing myself. I called her. “Where are you?” I could clearly hear Julian’s laughter in the background, but she didn’t even flinch. Her voice was as cold as ever. “Working late.” She couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a more elaborate lie. The laughter faded as she moved to a quieter place, trying to make the lie more believable. “Liana, I’m tired. Let’s get a divorce.” Hearing the finality in my voice, she was silent for a moment. Then, she exploded. “Colin, are you insane? What is this now? If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Don’t bother me.” “I’ll have the papers sent to you. Just sign them.” I hung up, ignoring the furious tirade that followed. I looked around the room, so familiar yet so foreign. This was where I had cooked and cleaned for her, washed and dried her hair, massaged her feet. Where I had comforted her, soothed her worries countless times. After five years of marriage, I finally understood. No matter how much I did, how good I was, it was all for nothing. I wasn’t the one she loved. Anything he did was right. And I… I was just a placeholder for when he wasn’t around. A way to pass the time. Better than nothing. I packed up everything that belonged to me and left the place I had once considered my home. I moved back into my pre-marital condo. It wasn’t as big as her villa, but it gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years. I met with a lawyer and discussed the details of the divorce. He was thorough, offering several strategies to ensure a smooth process. I rested for two days. On the third morning, a call from Liana woke me. “Colin, where did you go? Do you think playing hard to get is interesting?” Her voice was laced with her usual accusatory tone. “Get your ass back here. I already bought you a gift.” The same old pattern. Accusations, blame-shifting, all with an air of absolute entitlement. She never considered my feelings, never tried to see things from my perspective. We were supposed to be a team, but in her eyes, in her heart, I didn’t exist. Once, I collapsed from exhaustion at work. At the same time, a stray cat Julian had taken in threw up a hairball. She was so worried about the cat that she walked right past my unconscious body on the floor and drove over 250 miles to be with him. Even a colleague I didn’t get along with showed more concern, calling an ambulance and taking me to the hospital. When I woke up, the first person I saw was my office rival. Even he was willing to help me, paying my bills and talking to the doctors. My wife? She walked past me without a second glance. Not even a single word of concern. Of course, I was upset. I asked her if I even mattered to her. Her reaction was the same as it was now: furious accusations. “Are you going to make a scene over something so small? Didn’t you get the worker’s comp money? If you don’t want to be married, then let’s get a divorce.” She always used divorce as a threat. I never dared to argue back. I used to love her to the bone. I couldn’t lose her, couldn’t live without her. But the images of her and Julian were burned into my mind. To stop her from divorcing me, I had to lie to myself. Every night, I would tell myself that she was telling the truth, that she and Julian were just good friends, that she loved me. I lived in a fantasy of my own making. She remained on her pedestal, ordering me around, and I was the clueless, lovesick fool. But now, I was done lying to myself. 2 I had plans to have dinner with some colleagues. After work, we all headed to the restaurant. As we stepped out of the elevator, I saw her. Liana. She was standing in the middle of the lobby, bathed in the light of the crystal chandelier. She wore a stunning red dress that made her look both glamorous and cold. Her icy eyes were fixed on me. In the past, I would have been overjoyed. To have such a beautiful wife was a blessing. But now, my heart felt nothing. Instead, I saw something else in her gaze. It was a look of pure indifference, as if I owed her a million dollars. Cold and heartless. I suddenly realized that this was how she had always looked at me. I had just been blinded by love, choosing not to see it. Now, my eyes were open. I quickened my pace, pulling my colleagues along with me. The sound of high heels clicked rapidly behind me. A second later, Liana grabbed my arm. “You have a party tonight,” she said, her voice dripping with arrogance. “You promised me.” I paused. I did seem to remember promising her something. I was about to refuse, but my lawyer’s words echoed in my ears. He had told me that since she was ignoring the divorce papers, the best way to get a smooth separation was not to provoke her. It could lead to unnecessary complications. If I was going to push her buttons, I had to choose the right moment. “Fine.” I got into her car. As the scenery outside flew by, I asked, without thinking, “Why are you wearing this dress?” “It’s Julian’s birthday. He likes red.” The words hung in the air. She fell silent, then glanced at me, only to find me staring out the window. After a moment, she tried to explain. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I just thought it was a formal dress, suitable for the occasion.” “Mm.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. She probably didn’t even remember. This red dress… it was a gift from me. She had never worn it for me, never even tried it on in front of me. Her excuse was that it was too revealing, the color too bold for her. But she was the one who had told me she liked red. Now I knew the real reason. Julian liked red. So she had dug this dress out to wear for him on his birthday. She had never cared about me, so she brushed me off with flimsy excuses. She cared about Julian, so she dressed up for him, using my gift to please another man. If she had remembered I gave it to her, she probably would have been too disgusted to wear it. A woman dresses for the one who delights her. The old saying was true. She was a beautiful flower, but she would not bloom for me. The difference between being loved and not being loved was on full display. The car stopped in front of a hotel. A valet led us to a private room. Julian was there, surrounded by a laughing, adoring crowd. The moment he saw Liana holding my arm, I saw a flash of disdain on his face. “You’re finally here! Come, sit,” he said, quickly pulling Liana away from me and seating her next to him. The others quickly filled the seats around them, leaving me standing alone. They all looked at me with smug, mocking expressions. Most of the people here were their friends. They had always believed that Julian and Liana were the perfect match, childhood sweethearts destined to be together. And me? I was just the third wheel who had slipped in after they broke up. I was not worthy of Liana, not in the same league as Julian. In the past, I had been so concerned with Liana’s feelings that I had put up with their taunts and provocations, even trying to win them over. It only resulted in more ridicule. The prejudices in people’s hearts are like mountains; no amount of effort can move them. Now, I chose to ignore them. I found a corner to sit in. What others thought was their business. I wouldn’t let it get to me. “Colin, why are you sitting so far away? You’re already late, aren’t you going to come over and toast the birthday boy and apologize?” I looked up at her, my voice cold. “I don’t want to drink.” I had always been so compliant with her. This small act of defiance, in front of her friends, was a public slap in the face. She was stunned for a moment, then snapped, “What is wrong with you now?” Julian, smiling, gently pulled on her arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay. If Colin doesn’t want to drink, it’s fine.” Liana quieted down and immediately turned to chat happily with Julian. They laughed and talked, and everyone looked at them like they were watching a romance unfold. From my corner, I was the odd one out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393574”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 On the way to the hospital for a placental abruption, our car collided head-on with a wedding limousine. I was thrown from the vehicle, a pool of blood spreading beneath me. Through a haze of pain, I watched my husband, Ethan, ignore me completely. Instead, he cradled another woman in his arms, whispering to the driver, “Just run her over. The payout for a fatality is less.” As he spoke, the car lurched forward, straight towards me. I was run over, again and again, until my legs went numb. During the emergency surgery, my husband’s phone was unreachable. But he was there, sitting in the hospital corridor just outside. I could still hear his voice, laced with a chilling relief. “It’s for the best if they can’t reach me. If she dies, we pay less.” … “The patient is in her third trimester. The impact from the collision has made her condition critical. There’s no time to wait for family consent. Page every available doctor to the OR now.” “And get on the phone with every hospital in the city. We need blood reserves on standby in case things go south.” I could hear the head surgeon barking orders, but Ethan, my husband whose phone was perpetually off, paid me no mind. His hands were clasped tightly around the hand of the woman in the wedding dress. “It’s okay,” he murmured to her, his voice a tender caress. “I’m here.” The woman was trembling, but Ethan’s only response was a dismissive, “It’s not that serious. Every woman has babies. If something happens to her, it’s just her bad luck.” In that moment, I almost hated the hyper-acute hearing that comes before death. It allowed me to hear every curse Ethan uttered against me and our unborn child. He wanted us both dead, a neat and tidy tragedy closed with a small payout. If my family tried to make a scene, he had a team of lawyers ready to handle it. In the end, I would be nothing but a box of ashes. Throughout the entire ordeal, he never once came over to even check if it was me, even though I was lying right in front of him, carrying his child. A single glance would have been enough. But he just said the sight of me was too disgusting, that the fat spilling from my wounds would upset the woman in white. He covered her eyes and led her away to a bench far from the chaos. In that instant, every illusion I held about Ethan shattered. The man who had wept with joy when I told him I was pregnant, the man who called everyone he knew to say that marrying me was the happiest day of his life—that man was dead. A minute before the nurses wheeled me into surgery, I saw Ethan’s parents rushing into the hospital. They didn’t run towards me. They ran to Ethan and the woman. His mother’s voice was frantic. “What happened? Are you hurt? Daisy, you can’t get hurt! How would your godmother ever explain it to your mom?” And then she started to cry. The way she held that woman felt so foreign, so strange. The image was burned into my mind even as my vision blurred and the world faded to black. The lights in the operating room were terrifyingly cold, hanging like pale ghosts above me. I could hear the hushed whispers of the doctors and the orderly clatter of instruments as the nurses counted them out. “Massive blood loss. The placenta is exposed. We need to perform an emergency C-section, but we risk a fatal hemorrhage…” “Has anyone been able to contact the patient’s family?” “No. The husband’s phone is still off. We can’t get through to anyone else.” A heavy sigh followed that announcement. A nurse added, “The patient was in a taxi on her way to an appointment when she noticed signs of placental abruption. The collision with the wedding car happened on her way here.” “She’s this far along and her family let her take a taxi by herself? What were they thinking?” Then the anesthesia took hold, and I sank into unconsciousness. I don’t know how difficult the surgery was. I only know that when I woke up again, the room was filled with exclamations of awe. “It’s a miracle. A genuine miracle. To wake up after losing that much blood…” After the head surgeon confirmed my condition was stable, he had me sign the consent forms myself. As I signed, I glanced at the time. A full week had passed. I looked at the surgeon. “My husband?” 2 “We were never able to get in touch with your husband.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Never able to get in touch… what a joke. Then, the doctor’s expression turned somber. “The baby was born alive,” he said gently, “but he was born with… complications. He passed away two days ago.” Clatter. The pen fell from my hand. I grabbed the doctor’s arm, my voice a choked sob. “I… I want to see him.” The doctor exchanged a look with the nurses. They decided to let me. They placed me in a wheelchair and slowly pushed me out of the room, down the long corridor to the hospital morgue. He was in a small, refrigerated drawer. When they pulled it open, I saw his tiny hands, clenched into tight fists. He looked exactly as I had imagined: a perfect, high nose, a small mouth, a dusting of soft, light hair, and faint, golden eyebrows. I reached out to hold him. My fingers met only ice-cold stillness. It was only when I touched him that I saw the stitches on his tiny arm. The doctor explained softly, “During the accident… when you were run over repeatedly… the child was born with his limbs already…” I looked up at him, the meaning crashing down on me. My baby, born alive, had been born with severed limbs. Even if he had survived, he would have been disabled for life. In that moment, the dam broke. I had been trying to steel myself, to accept his death. But I couldn’t accept this. Every single one of my prenatal check-ups had been perfect. The doctors had all said he was developing beautifully. And he had been born… in pieces. No mother could remain calm in the face of such a horror. Ignoring the protests of my own healing body, I insisted on holding him. The cold of his tiny form was shocking, but in my mind, I could still hear his cry, still feel his little hand gripping my hair. Of course, it was all a fantasy. The next thing I knew, I was being carried back to my room by the nurses, having cried myself into a dead faint. I don’t know how many times I wept in that room. It was only when the police came to ask about the details of the accident that I found my voice again. “It was them!” I screamed. “They said it would be cheaper to kill me than to pay for injuries!” “Do you have any proof?” I shook my head. I had been pinned, helpless. How could I have proof? The officer then told me that according to the traffic cameras, I was the one who had run the red light. Worse, while I was still in surgery, Ethan had already taken the woman, Daisy, on a honeymoon. He had left everything in the hands of his lawyer. When the lawyer saw me, he froze. “Mrs. Thorne! What… how are you…?” His eyes widened in realization. “So, the pregnant woman Mr. Thorne’s car hit was… you?” I nodded weakly. The lawyer sat down awkwardly. When I insisted, for the third time, that he contact Ethan, he finally sighed. “It’s no use. Mr. Thorne has his phone turned off. He said he wants to give Ms. Daisy his undivided attention, to make up for her last birthday, which was ruined.” Ms. Daisy. So, the woman in the wedding dress was Daisy. The one I had only met a few times. His childhood friend, Daisy Shen. Her last birthday? Was that the day I found out I was pregnant? I had called Ethan home. I’d then received a furious call from Daisy, screaming that I had stolen her “Ethan” and ruined her birthday. Even Ethan’s parents had berated me, calling me petty and demanding I apologize to her. It was then that I learned the truth. Daisy’s parents lived abroad, and Ethan’s parents had raised her. Growing up, everyone had assumed she would be Ethan’s wife, their future daughter-in-law. Until I came along. Ethan had fallen head over heels for me, insisted on marrying me, and thrown all their plans into disarray. 3 For that, his entire family blamed me. On our wedding day, Daisy had even attempted suicide. She was revived, but the message was clear. And this time, according to the lawyer, Daisy had wanted a grand, fairytale wedding for her twenty-fifth birthday, with Ethan as the groom. So the whole family had conspired to lie to me. They left me, on the verge of giving birth, at home alone while they all went off to celebrate Daisy’s sham wedding. Even Ethan’s closest friends were there. Everyone knew. And no one thought it was wrong. They all kept the secret from me. Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but laugh. A hollow, broken sound. After explaining, the lawyer presented me with the compensation agreement Ethan had drawn up for the accident. “Mr. Thorne was unaware that the victim was you at the time. This settlement is based on standard legal procedure. Please, take a look…” he said, his voice trailing off. “And this is the compensation claim Mr. Thorne is making against you… of course, since you are currently married, I will hold onto this for now.” I scanned the pages, one by one. The lawyer, trying to lighten the mood, glanced at the baby clothes by my bed. “Ma’am, how is the little one doing?” “Stone dead.” The words hung in the air. The lawyer stared at me, stunned. I finished reading and tossed the file aside. “I reject all of these terms. I will be filing a lawsuit. You may leave.” Not long after the lawyer left, my phone, against all odds, rang. I thought it was the lawyer, that he had finally reached Ethan. I answered, only to hear Daisy’s voice. “Sister-in-law,” she chirped, “I just made a birthday wish, and Ethan promised he would make it come true. Can you guess what it was?” I didn’t answer. She chuckled softly. “What’s wrong? Are you sad your baby died?” In that instant, every hair on my body stood on end. She knew. She knew it was me. “I knew it was you all along,” she purred. “That’s why I deliberately called Ethan away. It’s what you deserve for ruining my last birthday. Besides, if Ethan really loved you, why wouldn’t he answer your messages? Why wouldn’t he pick up your calls?” Just as she finished, another voice came from her end of the line. It was Ethan. “Daisy, I have to go back. Your sister-in-law is pregnant, and I’m worried about her. Especially after… after hitting that woman. I just have this bad feeling.” “Ethan, just one more day. Please? Are you going to abandon your Daisy?” I heard Ethan hesitate. I hung up the phone. A day later, I was lying in my hospital bed, waiting for the doctor’s check-up, when I heard a commotion outside. Ethan was back. He was with his parents. “Son, you’re finally back! Can we turn our phones back on now?” “You have no idea, the baby of that woman you hit was torn to pieces. I was so worried something had happened to Chloe, but I was afraid to call and ruin your plans. I’ve been waiting for so long.” “I wonder what kind of soulless thing that woman’s family did for her baby to die so horribly, born without its limbs.” As his mother’s words faded, I pushed open my door. “Yes,” I said, my voice echoing in the hallway. “I wonder what kind of soullless thing they did, for the baby to be born without limbs, with his intestines spilling out…” 4 The moment our eyes met, Ethan froze. After repeatedly confirming with the doctors and nurses that the pregnant woman he had run over again and again was, in fact, me, he suddenly collapsed to his knees. His parents, who had just been mocking me for losing my child, calling it my karma, went visibly pale with shock when they realized that child was the grandchild they had been so eagerly awaiting. Ethan was a crumpled heap on the floor. It took a sedative injection to get him calm enough to lie down. “I didn’t know it was you,” he whispered, trying to take my hand. “I… I really didn’t know.” He stammered, but that was all he could manage to say. He didn’t know. Right. He hadn’t even bothered to look. When I was on the ground, begging for help, he was the one who suggested running me over. And now he wanted to pass it all off as a tragic accident. His eyes were red-rimmed as he slowly pushed himself up. He looked at me. “Chloe, at the time, I was just thinking of the simplest solution. It wasn’t that I actually wanted you to die. You used to be a lawyer, you know how these things work, car accidents…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Yes. As a lawyer, I knew he had made a calculated decision. But he saw that I was pregnant, and he still made that choice. He ran me over without a shred of mercy, even as I screamed for help, even as I begged. I remembered it all. It was seared into my brain, a memory I could never erase. His parents sat nearby, their eyes now filled with a simmering resentment directed at me. Ethan’s mother spoke first. “Can’t you even carry a baby properly? Ethan is gone for one week, and you manage to screw everything up, even get the baby killed. Chloe! Our family is cursed to have a daughter-in-law like you.” “We were just helping Daisy celebrate her birthday. We were gone for a short time, and you deliberately cause trouble. Tell me, did you do this on purpose? Did you want to use the baby to punish us?” Her words twisted everything, placing all the blame on my shoulders. Their celebrating with Daisy was perfectly reasonable, but my losing the baby was a malicious act on my part. “Was it just a celebration?” I asked, my eyes locked on Ethan. A fresh love bite was visible on his neck, not even bothering to be concealed. The ring on his finger wasn’t our wedding band. He fumbled with it, trying to pull it off, but it was stuck. Just then, Daisy burst into the room. She rushed to Ethan’s side, pressing his hand down to stop him from removing the ring.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393573”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel