Author: Momo Chan

For the Christmas holidays, my girlfriend, Jessica, booked us on a trip abroad. The moment our plane landed, she coaxed me onto a charter bus. We drove for two days and two nights. As the landscape grew more and more familiar, a tremor ran through my entire body. This was it. The hometown I had escaped from four years ago. Sensing my unease, Jessica finally dropped the act. Her face twisted into a snarl as she told me she was selling me to a remote, illegal compound, one staffed entirely by women. And the “Boss” she kept mentioning? The head of that entire operation. My own sister. I had spent twenty years planning my escape, faking my own death to get away from her. And now, four years later, Jessica had tricked me and brought me right back. … Seeing me tremble, Jessica’s smile was sickeningly sweet. “Leo, you said you loved me, didn’t you? I’m in a lot of gambling debt. You’ll help me, won’t you?” The thought of what my sister would do to her made my voice shake. “Please, just send me back. If you need money, I’ll get it for you. I’ll work my entire life to support you, I swear!” Jessica’s expression soured. “You think I can wait that long?” she spat. “I owe a fortune! If I don’t pay it back in three days, they’ll kill me! I’ve kept you for two years, you useless piece of shit. It’s time you paid me back with interest!” The word “useless” made me shudder violently. Once, one of my sister’s underlings had muttered that I was useless, too afraid to even crush an ant. My sister had him buried in the dirt up to his neck, poured honey over his head, and let the ants do the rest. He was eaten alive. If my sister heard Jessica call me that, what would she do to her? Fear clawed at my heart. I looked at the woman I had loved for two years, and the tears finally broke free. “You said… you said you wanted to build a home with me. You said I was the only family you ever wanted…” Jessica’s hand, once so warm, caressed my face. Her words were ice. “That’s right. And family should help each other out, shouldn’t they? So help me, Leo.” I bit my lip, shaking my head frantically. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes. “You know, you’re most heart-wrenching when you cry, Leo,” she said softly. “You were the handsomest of all my boyfriends. The most innocent, too. If it wasn’t for the money, I really wouldn’t want to sell you.” Suddenly, her gaze turned vicious. “You’re mine. I can’t stand the thought of another woman doing those things to you!” She threw me down onto the floor of the bus and tied my hands behind my back with a rope. Then, she pulled a dagger from her coat and traced its edge along my cheek. “Leo, you don’t want to be defiled by them, do you? Let me help you with that.” A glint of cold steel, then a searing line of pain across my face. “NO!” I cried out in despair. My sister’s favorite thing, her most prized possession, was my face. When I was little, I knocked over a pot of boiling water and scalded my cheek. When she learned it might leave a scar, my sister had the maid’s hands broken and left her for the dogs. She threatened the doctor that if he couldn’t fix my face, she would peel the skin from his own. My sister always said my face was the living image of our dead father. She would never, ever allow it to be harmed. Jessica had just scarred my face. If my sister found out… I couldn’t bear to think about it. Forgetting the pain, I begged her. “Please, you can’t ruin my face!” Jessica laughed. “I already asked Roxy. She said the men at the compound don’t need a face. As long as their bodies work, it’s fine.” Roxy? The new foreman from four years ago? Before I could process it, Jessica slashed the dagger across my face again. The pain was so intense I couldn’t speak. Blood streamed into my eyes, turning the world crimson. “I know Roxy! Just take me to her, please!” If Roxy saw me, she would force Jessica to take me back. She had to. Jessica froze, then the knife cut even deeper. “So you were never really mine. Already trying to climb your way up to Roxy?” “I’ll destroy this face, and we’ll see how you seduce anyone else!” I screamed until I passed out. When I woke up, I’d been thrown out onto the dirt at the compound’s main gate. Standing nearby, talking to Jessica, was Roxy herself. “Roxy!” I rasped, my voice raw. She looked over, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “How does he know my name?” Jessica’s face paled. She lunged forward, grinding her heel onto my mouth. “He must have overheard my call on the bus. Don’t worry, it’s useless for him to know now.” Roxy considered this for a moment, then stuck a cigarette between her lips. “Is that so? You wouldn’t dare pull any tricks. How many is this now?” Jessica ground her heel into my mouth one last time before scrambling over to light Roxy’s cigarette. “This is the seventh. Don’t worry, I know the rules. He’s an orphan, no family, no one to come looking for him. He was even a virgin when I got him.” Roxy crouched down and blew a smoke ring in my face, studying me. A sliver of hope rekindled within me. She knew me. If she recognized me, she would make Jessica take me away. Immediately. After all, if the Boss found out one of her own people had kidnapped me, they would all be dead. “Tsk. What did you do to his face? He’s hideous.” Roxy looked away in disgust. My heart sank. She didn’t recognize me. Had Jessica truly disfigured me so completely? The thought brought a wave of despair so profound I wanted to weep, but my throat was clogged with dust and blood. “He was putting up a fight,” Jessica said quickly. “What if he used his face to seduce someone and escape? I ruined it to be safe. It’s not like the face matters anyway.” She leaned down, her voice a low, triumphant whisper in my ear. “See? Give up on seducing Roxy. She thinks you’re ugly.” With all my strength, I squeezed out two words. “You’ll… die…” Roxy’s eyebrows shot up. She kicked Jessica aside and crouched in front of me, a grim smile on her face. “This kid… did he just tell us to go to hell?” Seeing that sinister grin, I shook my head in terror. No! That’s not what I meant! I meant you have to get me out of here, or you will die! “Aaargh!” Roxy pried my mouth open and pressed the glowing ember of her cigarette onto my tongue. The searing pain, the acrid smell of burning flesh, filled the air along with my screams. “Ugly piece of shit, threatening us when you’re about to die!” Roxy spat a thick wad of phlegm onto my face. Jessica grabbed a nearby stick and jabbed it violently into my mouth. “How dare you offend Roxy, you little bastard! I’ll teach you to scream!” Blood and splinters filled my throat. I was suffocating, tears streaming down my face. Was I going to die here? “Alright, that’s enough. He’s no good to us dead,” Roxy said, stopping her. Jessica immediately dropped the bloody stick. “Right. So, do we go sign the contract and get the money now?” Two large men hoisted me up and began dragging me toward the compound. Just then, a black sedan pulled up—my sister’s car. I thrashed wildly, throwing myself with all my might toward the wheels. The car stopped. The back door opened, and my sister stepped out. She looked down at me on the ground, her brow furrowed. Sister, it’s me! It’s your brother! I strained to look up at her, my eyes pleading for help. Roxy grabbed me and slapped me hard across the face. “You damn mutt, trying to run into the Boss’s car!” My vision went black for a second, and I spat out a mouthful of blood. It splattered across my sister’s immaculate high-heeled shoes. Roxy went pale. She dropped to her knees, frantically wiping the shoes. “I’m so sorry, Boss! This new one is a real handful. I’ll get it clean right now!” Jessica, seeing this, also knelt to help. My sister narrowed her eyes, her gaze falling on me. “Oh? A fresh delivery?” “Yes, Boss. This one’s trouble. To avoid any problems, we ruined his face. He even had the nerve to curse us to death just now!” Roxy answered cautiously. My sister seemed intrigued. “Heh. The first one to come here with the guts to talk back. Is he a university student?” “Yes! Just graduated this year. An honors student, too!” Jessica chimed in eagerly. My sister looked thoughtful. She glanced at me again and sighed. “If my Leo were still alive, he’d be about that age… graduating from university…” Hearing her say my name, I began to twist and moan frantically. Sister, it’s me! I am Leo! “Shit, hold still, you bastard!” Roxy kicked me hard in the face. The wounds split open again, blood welling up. My mouth and tongue were so mangled I couldn’t form a single word, only broken, agonized whimpers. “Hm?” My sister paused, then crouched down, studying me closely. My heart pounded with excitement. I tried to open my mouth to call her name, but a tickle in my throat made me cough up another gout of blood. It splashed onto her face. Roxy and Jessica froze in sheer terror. One fumbled for a tissue to wipe away the blood while the other started dragging me away. Spotting a large iron drum filled with filthy water, Roxy hoisted me up. The next second, she plunged my head into it. The foul water flooded my nose and mouth. The feeling of suffocation was immediate, my lungs screaming in agony. Just as I thought I would die, Roxy yanked me out by my hair. “You little shit, how many lives do you think you have to disrespect my Boss!” she roared. “Today, I’ll kill you as an apology to her!” I had only a few seconds to gasp for air before she shoved me back under. After several repetitions, I was too choked to make a sound. Roxy threw me onto the ground and scurried back to my sister, bowing. “Boss, since he offended you, he’s useless alive. What are your orders?” “First, pull out all his fingernails. Then, how about we treat him to a special cocktail?” My blood ran cold. The cocktail. I had seen them use that particular torture on other men. I never thought it would be my turn. So be it. Sister, all the sins you’ve committed… let them be paid for through me. It’s not unjust. The thought calmed me. I closed my eyes, waiting for death. I was going to see Mom and Dad soon. A strange sense of joy washed over me. “Is he… smiling?” my sister’s hesitant voice cut through the haze. “What the fuck, this bastard still has the nerve to smile?!” Roxy, incredulous, grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. The filthy water had washed the blood from my face. My sister stared, a look of shock on her features. “Why are there so many wounds on his face?” In the reflection of her eyes, I saw my own ruined face for the first time. A dense network of crisscrossing scars, like ugly earthworms, covered every inch of my skin. It was terrifying. Disgusting. And I had thought she would recognize me. In this state, even I wouldn’t recognize myself.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393451”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband of thirty years, a man I had honored and respected our entire marriage, gripped my wrist tightly as he lay dying. “My lady,” he rasped, “if there is a next life, I beg you… let your stepsister have the chance to save me from the mire. Let me have one lifetime of love with her.” Tears streaming down my face, I nodded. “I will.” A biting spring wind swept across the cobblestones. I found myself staring, frozen, at the destitute young man collapsed on our doorstep. This time, Josh, I will grant you the life you always yearned for. 1 Patches of unmelted snow clung to the crevices between the stones, and icicles hung from the eaves, their last drop of winter hesitating to fall. The familiar scene jolted me back to reality. I had been reborn, thirty years in the past. The jeering shouts of a servant rang in my ears. “Get out of here, you filthy beggar! Be off with you!” I instinctively hurried toward the gate. A thin back was hunched over in a threadbare tunic of dark indigo. The young man was kneeling on the steps, and the hands that had once penned such magnificent prose were now blue with cold, so pale they were almost translucent. It was Josh Atreides, age nineteen. The man who would become my husband for three decades of cool, respectful distance. In my memory, his withered, dying hand tightened on my wrist. From within the heavy, medicine-scented bed curtains, his clouded eyes glistened. “My lady, if there is a next life, I beg you, give the chance to save me to your stepsister, Isabelle. Let me be bound to her for one lifetime.” A twig snapped under the eaves, and I jolted back to the present. I could still feel the phantom chill of tears soaking my collar, the ghostly touch of his burial shroud on my palm. The soft patter of footsteps approached from behind. My stepsister, Isabelle, was heading this way with her maids, a crimson blossom trembling in her hair with every step. “Eleonora?” She stopped, puzzled. “Aren’t we going to the High Chapel to pray for blessings? Why have you stopped?” I dug my nails into my palm, the sharp points pressing into an old, faint scar I had brought back with me from my past life. Josh’s final sigh echoed in my ears: “Thirty years of mutual respect… but in the end, it was a love I could never have.” I pushed the thought away and looked at the bright, charming girl before me. “Isabelle,” I heard myself say, my voice hoarse. “We won’t go today. I think I heard an injured sparrow crying by the gate. Why don’t you go see?” The girl’s almond-shaped eyes lit up, and she lifted her skirts and ran toward the entrance. I stepped back, hiding myself behind a stone pillar, in a perfect position to see everything unfold. “You tricked me, sister! There’s no cute little sparrow, just a beggar! Ugh, don’t come so close to me.” 2 The young man’s voice, just as I remembered it, rose in desperation. “My lady, please don’t misunderstand. I am a scholar, here in the capital for the Royal Examinations. I have fallen on hard times because my travel purse was stolen. This is my writ of identity; it bears the royal seal.” Josh produced the scholar’s writ he kept close to his chest and offered it to Isabelle as if it were a precious treasure. Isabelle wrinkled her nose and leaned in to glance at it. When she saw his ranking on the writ, her eyes brightened. “Very well. Seeing as you’re a poor, unfortunate scholar, I will help you. Someone, fetch this young man some food.” “Yes, my lady.” Her maid hurried to obey. Josh’s body went rigid. His lips moved, but no sound came out. I knew his dilemma. In his desperate state, he needed coin to survive until the examinations. But he possessed a scholar’s pride and could not bring himself to ask for it. In my past life, I had admired his talent. I not only gave him twenty silver pieces but also secretly helped him fend off the schemes of a few wealthy, well-connected rivals in the capital. My sister, however, in all her charming innocence, could not comprehend the suffering Josh had endured. In her mind, giving him a bite to eat when he was destitute was an act of immense generosity. I watched the helpless, humiliated young man at the gate, a faint ache in my heart. I hoped, for his sake, that this lifetime’s love would be everything he dreamed it would be. 3 Two months later, on the day the examination results were posted, a runner from the city sprinted back to the Duke’s estate, breathless with excitement. “Congratulations, Lady Isabelle! That scholar you helped—he passed!” My stepsister grabbed my arm, shaking it with glee. “Eleonora, Josh’s scholarship is truly remarkable! Do you think he has a chance to be named among the top three Royal Scholars?” I met her bright, shining eyes and nodded. “He should.” In my past life, Josh’s powerful, elegant calligraphy and his uniquely insightful essays on statecraft had caught the King’s eye, and he had been named the Third Royal Scholar. To repay my kindness, he had come to our home on the day of the scholars’ parade to formally propose. I was the Duke’s high-born daughter, and a scholar of his rank was a rare prize. My parents were not keen on his humble origins, but I had already given him my heart and begged them to approve the match. After our marriage, I used my family’s influence and wealth to pave his way at court, helping him rise through the ranks. I managed our household flawlessly, ensuring he had no worldly concerns. But no matter how much I did for him, it could never compare to the stepsister he loved but could not have. I was known as the most talented lady in the capital. Seeing that even I held Josh in high regard, Isabelle became even more delighted with herself. “Sister, on the day I met Josh, it was supposed to be you who went out first. But it was me who helped him in the end. Don’t you think our connection is destined by the heavens?” She blushed at her own speculation. “What if he comes to propose to me to repay my kindness? Should I accept?” The crimson blossom in her hair made her look all the more vibrant and alive. 4 “Isabelle, this is a matter of your own heart. I cannot make that choice for you.” Although my stepsister was a lady of the ducal house, her mother was of low birth, a mistress her father had taken. To be a first wife, Isabelle would have to marry down. In our past life, she had married a minor official from a poor family. Though his rank was low, he treated her exceptionally well and took no other woman. But she despised her husband’s lack of ambition and turned their home into a chaotic mess. This time, with the far more promising Josh, she ought to be satisfied. Isabelle’s pink lips pouted as she tested the waters, half-joking. “Eleonora, you haven’t fallen for Josh as well, have you?” Seeing the suspicion and vigilance in her eyes, my expression grew cold. “Rest assured, sister. I will never marry Josh Atreides in this lifetime.” Seeing my anger, Isabelle quickly changed her tune, shaking my arm and playing the coquette. “I’m sorry, sister, it was my fault. You have a generous heart, please don’t hold it against me, won’t you?” I pulled my arm away and waved her off. “I’m tired. You should go.” 5 Soon, it was the day of the parade for the top three Royal Scholars. Just as Isabelle had hoped, Josh arrived at our door with a matchmaker to propose. He bowed deeply to my father, the Duke, and stated his purpose with reverence. “Your Grace, Lady Isabelle once showed this humble scholar a great kindness with a simple meal. I wish to ask for her hand as my wife. I pray you will grant my request.” My father nodded with satisfaction. “Very well. I approve this union.” Isabelle had been hiding behind a screen in the grand hall, listening in. The moment the match was settled, she ran to find me, bursting with pride. “Sister, Josh is truly a man of honor and loyalty! I’m soon to be the wife of the First Royal Scholar! You’ll have to try harder now, sister.” I put down my book and looked at her, confused. “Isabelle, Josh was not named First Royal Scholar this time. I’m afraid that title will not be yours.” Her pretty face paled. She had assumed my father’s quick approval was due to Josh achieving the highest rank. “Well then,” she stammered, “I must have been mistaken. It must be the wife of the Second or Third Royal Scholar.” “Neither, I’m afraid. He was ranked tenth in the final examinations. Still a fine achievement.” In our past life, with my help, Josh had to do nothing but focus on his studies. This time, without my money, and with the bullying from his wealthy rivals, the frostbite on his hands had never properly healed. Without the bonus points from his flawless, powerful calligraphy, the rank of Third Royal Scholar was beyond his reach. 6 “Impossible!” Isabelle snapped, before gathering her skirts and storming out. My personal maid, Rose, huffed in disapproval. “My lady, you are always too good to Lady Isabelle. She forgets her station. To marry a man like Master Atreides as his first wife is already a great fortune for her.” It was true. It was a good match, or my father would never have agreed. But Isabelle’s ambitions were too high. I suspected she would cause a scene, just as she had in our last life. I shook my head, trying not to think about it. I had honored my promise to the dying Josh and fulfilled his wish for a life with Isabelle. The rest was up to them. I thought Isabelle would resort to a hunger strike as she had before, but this time she chose a more drastic path. She snuck out of the estate for a private rendezvous with the rakish son of a powerful courtier. She dreamed of marrying into a great house as a first wife, but she soon discovered the man was only toying with her. Not only was her dream shattered, but she nearly lost her virtue in the process. In the family chapel, Isabelle knelt before the ancestral tablets, her eyes swollen from crying. “Father, Mother, I may have erred, but you drove me to it! If I could marry into a great house as a first wife, like Eleonora, I wouldn’t have had to disgrace myself seeking my own fortune!” The Duke’s riding crop struck Isabelle’s back with a sharp crack. “You shameless wretch! You disgrace yourself and dare to blame us? Lady Sylvia,” he said, turning to Isabelle’s mother, “I never should have been so soft as to let you raise the child. Look at what you’ve taught her!” A loving parent plans for their child’s future. Years ago, my father had wanted to raise Isabelle under my mother’s name. As the Duke’s second official daughter, she would have been guaranteed a fine match. But Lady Sylvia, afraid of losing her favor without a child to bind her to the Duke, had wept and begged to keep Isabelle by her side. Now, she regretted it. But it was too late. 7 Lady Sylvia threw herself at my father’s feet, pleading. “My lord, it is all my fault! I beg you, for the sake of your own flesh and blood, spare her this once!” My mother’s eyes, fixed on Lady Sylvia, seemed to burn with fire. Isabelle had not only ruined her own reputation but had stained the honor of every young woman in our house. “Lady Sylvia, Isabelle has only two paths now,” my mother said, her voice cold. “She can take her own life to preserve her honor, or she can be sent to a nunnery.” “No! Father, Mother, I don’t want to die! I am still a maiden! Josh owes me a debt of gratitude; he will surely marry me!” In that moment, Josh Atreides became Isabelle’s only lifeline. Lady Sylvia knocked her head on the stone floor, over and over. “Your Grace, she is young and foolish. Please, give her one more chance.” My mother’s eyes instantly reddened with tears of her own. “Lady Sylvia, you ache for your daughter, but what of my Eleonora’s prospects? What of her future?” With my station as the Duke’s eldest daughter, I should have married into a high-ranking noble house as its matriarch. Now, tainted by Isabelle’s scandal, if I wanted to be a first wife, I would have to marry down. Even then, I had lost the right to choose; I would be at the mercy of whoever would have me. My father’s expression slowly hardened. Though both were his daughters, there was no comparing a child of a mistress to his trueborn heir. Just as he was about to give the order to have Isabelle taken away, a servant rushed in to announce that General Kaelen had arrived at the gate to ask for a hand in marriage. 8 Hearing the servant’s words, a spark of light ignited in Isabelle’s eyes. “Father, Mother, did you hear? I met General Kaelen once! He must have been captivated by me and has come to ask for my hand!” Lady Sylvia brightened as well. Her methods had been right after all; men truly preferred a girl as innocent, charming, and lively as her Isabelle. My father frowned. As a Duke and a minister of the crown, he was not a fool like them. General Kaelen was a war hero of immense renown. Even if Isabelle were pristine, he might not have considered her, let alone now, with her reputation in tatters. The Duke ordered Isabelle and her mother to continue kneeling in the chapel. He then asked my mother and me to join him in the grand hall. Isabelle feigned agreement, but fearing her supposed match would be stolen, she had her mother create a diversion while she climbed out a window. In the grand hall, my parents were speaking with the General. I hid behind a screen, listening. In this life or the last, I knew very little of this General Kaelen. I only knew he was born of common stock, a fierce warrior, and a confidant of the King. In my previous life, he never married. Some said he had no interest in women; others whispered he harbored a secret, unrequited love. My thoughts were interrupted by the General’s firm, resolute voice. “Your Grace, my Lady Duchess, I have long admired your daughter, the Lady Eleonora. I have come today to formally ask for her hand. I pray you will grant me this honor.” Before I could even process his words, a wild-eyed figure burst through the doorway. “General Kaelen, surely you’ve made a mistake! The woman you wish to marry is me, Isabelle, is it not?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393450”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In my past life, my bondmate Lyra tried to keep the Gate of Ascension open for her weak old flame, Javier. The Gate opens only once every ten thousand years—the only chance for adepts to ascend. By delaying its closure, she would doom an entire generation. So I forced her through. We spent centuries together in the Celestial Realm, and I foolishly thought she’d moved on. But on the eve of my Archon breakthrough, she poisoned me. As divine retribution tore me apart, she screamed: “You made Javier miss his ascension! Go rot with him!” When I opened my eyes, I was back—at the moment she tried to stop the Gate. This time, I’ll let her have her way. 1 “This is the Gate of Ascension! If it doesn’t close, our entire generation is doomed!” A handful of mages pleaded with Lyra, who stood defiantly in the Gate’s shimmering portal, blocking its path. “Javier hasn’t arrived yet,” Lyra’s voice was as cold as glacial ice. She didn’t budge an inch. “What’s the harm in waiting a little longer?” “It opens once every ten thousand years! This is our life’s work, our only hope!” In response, Lyra flung a bolt of pure energy, blasting one of the pleading mages from the sky. “Insects like you dare dream of ascension?” she sneered. “Javier is not here. Therefore, this Gate will not close.” She stood there, a lone figure against the tide, a portrait of magnificent, misplaced heroism. I clapped my hands, my applause echoing in the stunned silence. “Bravo! Spoken with the spirit of a true paragon, Lady Lyra!” Then, under the bewildered gazes of the crowd, I turned and drifted away. For me, the Gate was a mere formality. My power had long since reached the threshold of ascension. If not for my desire to ascend alongside the far weaker Lyra, I would have been in the Celestial Realm ages ago. I never imagined that our shared dream of an eternity together would end in such a bitter betrayal. This life, I was done with her. As the thought crossed my mind, I released the restraints on my power. Instantly, the heavens took notice. A summons to the Celestial Ordeal. In three days, the trial would begin. If I survived, I would ascend. After my departure, Lyra’s momentary confusion gave way to a faltering of her bravado. Her power, in the grand scheme of things, was unremarkable. Without me to protect her, she would have perished a thousand times over. Since we were bound, I had braved the Nine Hells and the deepest Abyss to fetch her elixirs and arcane relics, all to finally give her the strength to qualify for ascension. But now, in this moment, she seemed to believe she was truly invincible. The true archmages of the realm were all busy battling in the high heavens, vying for the first wisp of celestial essence to break through from the other side. The only ones arriving at the Gate now were the lesser adepts. I wondered what those old titans would do when they learned that a hundred centuries of cosmic alignment had been squandered for the selfish whim of a minor mage. The crowd of low-level adepts was no match for Lyra, who was armed to the teeth with the artifacts I had given her. She struck them down one by one, their spirit-veins fractured. “You pathetic worms dare stand in my way?” she declared, standing sentinel at the Gate, her gaze sweeping over the fallen. “Until Javier arrives, no one is closing this Gate.” With no one left to challenge her, her arrogance swelled. Hours passed. More and more adepts arrived, only to be blocked by the unyielding figure of Lyra. Finally, Javier appeared, stumbling and breathless. “Lyra, I knew you wouldn’t leave me behind,” he gasped, his own energy almost completely depleted. For someone of his level, just reaching these heights was a monumental feat. “Javier,” Lyra’s voice softened, her relief palpable. “As long as I’m here, you will always have a place on the Celestial Stairway.” But just as she spoke, the Gate of Ascension, strained beyond its limits, began to tremble. Before anyone could enter, cracks of light spiderwebbed across its surface, and it began to shatter. “The Gate… it’s broken! Ten thousand years of waiting, our only chance at godhood… gone!” “It’s all that witch’s fault!” “And that low-born mongrel! What right does he have to even be here?” The heavens filled with a chorus of curses. Javier’s face went white as a sheet. “Lady Lyra… did I do something wrong?” he whispered, shrinking behind her as a thousand murderous glares fixed upon him. “Let them dare touch you, Javier, and I will hunt them to the ends of the earth,” Lyra declared, her voice ringing with protective fury. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” “Oh, Lady Lyra, you’re the best.” As the two of them exchanged their tender reassurances, a horrifying realization dawned on someone in the crowd. “The Gate of Ascension is shattered… but the gate to the Celestial Realm never opened! Don’t tell me the Archmages are trapped on the Stairway!” 2 A single mage’s panicked cry plunged the world into a chilling silence. The Gate of Ascension was the entrance. You passed through it to climb the Celestial Stairway. Only when the Gate of Ascension closed did the true gate to the heavens open. But now, the entrance had crumbled first. The gate to the heavens remained sealed. And all the great powers of the realm were trapped inside. Which meant that, apart from me, Lyra was now the most powerful being in this world. To make matters worse, blinded by love, I had once sworn an Unbreakable Vow. If I ever brought harm to Lyra, my own body would erupt into nothingness. “Does this mean… our masters are trapped for another ten thousand years?” The faces of the assembled mages turned ashen. Lyra, too, finally understood. A wild, triumphant laugh escaped her lips. “Javier, didn’t you say you wanted to see the treasures of the Three Great Orders? Today, I will take you on a tour of the world! Take whatever you desire. I’d like to see anyone try and stop us.” And so, with the tigers away, the monkey became king. Lyra began her grand tour, leading Javier to pillage the vaults and secret libraries of every major faction in the land. She had made an enemy of the entire world. But none of that mattered to me anymore. In three days, the Ordeal would come, and I would be gone. I didn’t expect, however, that with only an hour left until my trial, Lyra would seek me out. “Kaelan. Give Javier your protective artifact, the Prismatic Celestial Jade.” I frowned, looking at the two of them. A shimmering aura of potent energy clung to them both. Clearly, they had been enjoying the spoils of the great orders. “Give him the Jade?” For a moment, I thought I’d misheard. The Jade was my soul-bound artifact. Without the Jade, I was without life. “Are you deaf? I told you what I want,” Lyra said, her brow furrowing with impatience. “Don’t you know this is my soul-bound artifact?” I almost laughed. I never dreamed that a few days of unearned power would inflate her ego to such monstrous proportions. “So what if it is?” she retorted, an eyebrow arched in disdain. “You know that if a soul-bound artifact is separated from its master, the master dies.” “I’m the strongest in the world now. I can spare you a wisp of my power to keep you alive. Stop wasting my time and hand it over.” She waved her hand dismissively. I stared at her, my gaze cold. The person I had loved for so long was now a stranger. A current of power began to stir around me, a pressure that was almost physical. “The Jade is my life. It is bound to my very soul. And you want to take it, to take my life, just to please him?” Lyra’s expression hardened, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. She clearly hadn’t expected me to refuse. “Kaelan, you have so many artifacts and elixirs. What’s the big deal about giving up one?” she snapped. “In this world, who can stand against me now? Give me the Jade, and I will naturally protect you.” I looked at her hideous, grasping expression, and a wave of profound sorrow washed over me. To ascend with her, I had suppressed my own power, hidden my true identity. I had braved hells and abyss for her, facing death countless times. And in her eyes, it was simply, “You have so much, why can’t I have some?” Javier, who had been hiding behind Lyra, suddenly bit his lip and stepped forward. “Lady Lyra, Kaelan… you are bondmates. It was presumptuous of me to ask. You shouldn’t fight because of me. I… I’ll leave.” He turned, his voice choked with emotion. “Lady Lyra, I’m an orphan. You’re the only person in this world who has ever been kind to me. If I have the chance, I will repay your kindness in the future.” 3 As Javier’s words faded, he made a show of turning to leave. Lyra’s eyes immediately reddened. “Javier, no. With me here, no one can bully you. You have a family now.” Tears streamed down Javier’s face. “Lady Lyra, you’re too good to me! For all my lives to come, I would be your beast of burden, your loyal servant, just to stay by your side!” Lyra, her heart aching for him, pulled him into a gentle embrace, whispering words of comfort. I had no interest in this melodrama. The Ordeal was imminent. I began to focus, to center my spirit, and the power around me began to hum and swirl. Seeing this, Lyra’s tone turned to ice. “Kaelan, are you actually thinking of fighting me? No one in this world is my match. I am showing you dignity because we were once bondmates. Do you take my kindness for weakness?” she raged. “When will you learn to be as selfless as Javier!” Her furious shouts echoed across the sky. I watched her shield Javier protectively, her defiant posture utterly laughable. For millennia, I had sheltered her so completely that she had no concept of what the celestial energy coiling around me truly meant. She had no idea why the most powerful mages in the land had always shown her such deference. Now, convinced of her own invincibility, her first act was to brandish her power at me. It was pathetic. It was tragic. I shot her a cold glance and said nothing. Just then, Javier stepped forward again. “Lady Lyra, please don’t be angry. Why don’t you step aside for a moment? Let me talk to him, brother to brother.” “Brother Kaelan,” he began, walking toward me with a look of manufactured sincerity. “I’m not here to ruin your relationship. I… I just want to join this family.” Lyra was hesitant, but at Javier’s insistence, she reluctantly agreed. “Kaelan, when will you learn to be as gracious as Javier?” she huffed, before finally departing. I gave them both a cold, sweeping glare, then turned my attention back to the heavens. The storm clouds of my Ordeal were gathering. The moment Lyra was out of earshot, Javier’s face transformed. “Kaelan, you’re really pushing your luck, aren’t you?” he sneered. “Lyra is now the undisputed master of this world. She’s far too good for a no-name adept like you. Only an Aether-touched genius like me is worthy of being her partner.” He puffed out his chest. “If I were you, I’d disappear. Don’t force my hand.” I couldn’t be bothered to respond to this dog borrowing its master’s ferocity. But then, a flicker of movement at his waist caught my eye. A jade pendant. It was a gift from my master, who had ascended long ago. It was the token of my love I had given to Lyra. The day we were bound, under a canopy of a billion stars, I had placed it in her hand and sworn an oath to never harm her. And now, she had given it away so casually. I thought my heart was a frozen stone, that nothing of her could move me. But seeing that pendant swaying at Javier’s hip, I lost control. With a flick of my will, I summoned it, and the pendant flew from his belt into my hand. Javier’s eyes suddenly lit up with a triumphant, malicious glee. The next second, he sprayed a great mouthful of blood, his face turning as pale as parchment. “KAELAN! HOW FAR ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE THIS!” Lyra’s shriek ripped through the sky. She flew to Javier’s side, cradling him in her arms. “Javier was trying to make peace with you, and you attack him out of spite!” she screamed, her eyes blazing with fury. “Kneel and apologize to him right now, or…” “Or what?” I cut her off. Lyra froze for a second, then her face turned into a mask of cold fury. “Or our bond as soulmates is severed today!” The absurdity of it all was almost amusing. “Then let it be severed.” Her face twisted in rage. An instant later, a devastating blast of energy shot toward me—it was the ultimate, life-or-death technique I myself had taught her. My heart, in that moment, became perfectly still. For a common stray, she would use such a strike against me. The attack hit the shimmering shield of my own power and vanished without a trace. “Ant,” I said softly. The next moment, the clouds of the Ordeal fully converged. The world-shaking trial of ascension was about to begin. And at the same time, a shimmering stairway of light reappeared in the sky. The great powers of the realm were finally free.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393449”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I angered my stepbrother, my own sister locked me in the sterilization cabinet. My stepbrother, Denis, was torturing a kitten, holding a lighter to its tail. When I screamed at him to stop, my sister, Joelle, decided I was the one who needed to be punished. She shoved me into the industrial-sized sterilization cabinet in our utility room and chained it shut. “Go in there and wash out that filthy mouth of yours!” she’d snarled. “Is this what they teach you at that fancy school? To be so cruel to your own brother?” The heat inside the cabinet was unbearable. I was being boiled alive. My skin blistered and broke as I screamed and begged for mercy, but all I got was her cold, dismissive voice through the thick metal door. “If you can’t even handle a little discomfort, what makes you think you’re worthy of being my brother?” Then she left. She turned her back on me and went to coddle Denis. I could feel my own flesh cooking, the chemical, fishy smell of the sterilizing agent choking me, filling my lungs. A week later, they returned from their vacation. And they finally remembered me. “Now that he’s had time to cool off, I suppose I can let Finn out.” She didn’t know that my body had already rotted away, fused to the metal walls. I was never getting out. 1 “That little brat hasn’t bothered me for days. Looks like he’s finally learned his lesson,” Joelle mused, her fingers tracing the delicate bracelet Denis had given her. A faint smile played on her lips. “He tried that hunger strike nonsense on me before, threatening to disown me. I just locked him in his room for three days, and he came out crying and begging on his knees.” “For him to be quiet for a whole week…” The bodyguard standing beside her shifted, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “Miss Vance… sir… he’s… I think he’s still locked inside.” Joelle’s hand froze. A flicker of unease crossed her features, but it was quickly replaced by her usual mask of indifference. “It’s good for a boy to face a little hardship.” The bodyguard’s face went rigid. After a moment of hesitation, he tried again. “There’s… there’s been no sound from in there for a long time. Maybe you should… open it and check?” Joelle shot him a look as cold as ice. “I said it’s fine!” “He’s just playing games. Trying to manipulate me. The moment I go to check on him, he’ll start his act all over again.” The bodyguard’s words died in his throat. Just then, Denis walked in from the garden. Hearing Joelle, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head on her shoulder. “You’re the best sister in the world,” he said, his voice sweet and innocent. Joelle’s expression softened instantly. She smiled and ruffled his curly hair. “You little fool. You’re the only brother I’ll ever need.” Denis looked up at her, his eyes wide and guileless. “I won’t let you protect me forever. I’m going to grow up fast and be the one to protect you.” “Good boy,” she cooed. “I knew you were worth it.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s all my fault. Finn must think I stole your love away from him. That’s why he hates me so much.” Joelle patted his shoulder comfortingly. “He’s just petty and small-minded. It has nothing to do with you.” “It’s been a week, though,” Denis said, his voice laced with false concern. “You should let him out. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson by now.” If I had been alive to hear those words, I would have lunged at Denis, ready to tear his mask away. And then Joelle would have punished me for it. But now, I felt nothing. Because I was already dead. In the final, agonizing moment, as the heat melted the last of my flesh, my soul finally broke free from that steel coffin. I watched as my own body, charred and unrecognizable, remained fused to the interior. The heavy iron chain was still wrapped around the door, secured with a massive padlock. There had been no escape. At first, I had thrown myself against the door, screaming, begging. When that failed, I had curled into a corner, trying to shield myself from the searing UV lamps. But it was a 360-degree sterilizer. There was nowhere to hide. My skin peeled away in sheets. The pain… it was unimaginable. I made one last, desperate attempt, hurling my body against the door with all my remaining strength. That’s when I heard Joelle’s voice, muffled but clear. “Can’t take it anymore?” “Denis was so traumatized by your vicious words that he threw himself into the freezing fountain pool. He has a raging fever, it almost turned into pneumonia.” “Today, I’m going to teach you the lesson our dead parents never could.” I cried. I apologized for things I had never done. I would have said anything to make her let me out. But the heat was relentless. It cooked my flesh until it slid from my bones and sizzled on the hot floor below, turning to a bloody slurry. My arm was already stripped bare, a skeleton’s limb. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard her command to the bodyguard. “Get the chains. Lock it tight.” “No one opens this without my permission. This time, he needs to learn his lesson. For good.” Despair, absolute and final, consumed me. I heard the rattle of the chains as they were wound around my tomb. And I felt the cold grip of death tighten around my throat. 2 “Go unlock the cabinet for Finn,” Joelle ordered coolly. “Tell him if he doesn’t want this to happen again, he’ll come and apologize to Denis properly.” The bodyguard opened his mouth, then closed it again. He simply bowed and left the room. Denis tugged at Joelle’s arm. “Sister, once Finn apologizes, let’s just forget about it. You should be nice to him, so he doesn’t feel left out.” He added, his voice a soft whisper, “If he leaves, you won’t have any family left.” A look of contempt flashed in Joelle’s eyes, but she smoothed it over with a fond pat on Denis’s head. “It would be better if he left. A person with such a vile mouth doesn’t deserve to be my brother.” “If it weren’t for the horrible things he said to you, you wouldn’t have gotten so sick. Denis, you’re just too kind, too soft-hearted. That’s why he’s always bullying you.” A fire of rage burned in her eyes, but it vanished the moment Denis looked at her, as if she were afraid the very heat of her anger might harm him. I thought being dead meant I couldn’t feel pain anymore. But watching this, an old, familiar ache returned, and ghostly tears fell from my eyes. A week ago, for Joelle’s birthday, I had bought her a little orange kitten, a surprise. But I found Denis in the garden, holding a lighter to its tail. He’d looked up at me with a smirk. “Don’t think that just because you found a cat that looks like her old one, you can win her back from me.” I had flown into a rage, shielding the terrified animal and screaming at him. Joelle had walked in at that exact moment. Denis immediately burst into tears and threw himself into the icy fountain in the courtyard. It was the middle of winter. He was wearing a thick, absorbent cotton jacket, and he sank like a stone. When they pulled him out, he was pale and barely breathing. “Sister,” he’d gasped, his voice a faint whisper. “If Finn can’t accept me… if he wants me to die… then I will.” “My only regret is that I won’t get to protect you. You have to take care of yourself, sister. In the next life, I want to be your brother again.” That day, Joelle canceled everything. She carried Denis to the hospital in her arms, not even bothering with an umbrella as the cold rain soaked her to the bone. In the end, Denis was diagnosed with an acute case of the flu. I stood outside the hospital room, watching her clutch his hand, her voice a desperate plea. “Denis, please. Please get better. Don’t leave me all alone…” It was laughable. My own sister, my flesh and blood. A powerful, commanding woman who ran a corporate empire, now acting out a deathbed drama over a common cold with a complete stranger. It was only when she was dragging me by the hair, shoving me into that sterilization cabinet, that I finally understood. In her heart, Denis was her only brother. And I… I was nothing. “How could I have a brother with such a filthy, disgusting mouth?” she’d screamed at me. “Denis almost died! Even when he recovers, he’ll be weak for a long time!” “I’m telling you, Finn, don’t think for a second that just because we share the same blood, you can do whatever you want!” “You’ll stay in there until Denis is better. You’ll stay in there until you learn to be sorry!” And to make sure I learned my “lesson,” she had the bodyguard chain the door shut. And now, only because Denis was in a good mood, she was deigning to let me out. She didn’t know. I was never getting out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393448”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was the company’s monthly holiday, and my boyfriend Aaron’s personal secretary posted a picture on her social media feed. The caption read: “Sure, you’re on top during the day at the office, but at night, I’m the one in charge!” The photo showed her, a woman named Chelsea, lounging on a waterbed strewn with rose petals. And kneeling at her feet, massaging them with an almost reverent expression, was Aaron. The ever-serious, no-nonsense director of our department. Tucked into his pocket was a brand-new, gleaming gold necklace. That very morning, I had given him the gold to make that necklace, begging him to finally go public with our five-year relationship. He’d taken it without a word, but when I tried to snap a picture of us together, he’d snatched my phone and smashed it on the ground. His eyes had been filled with pure contempt. “Don’t you own a mirror? Don’t you have a puddle to look in? You’re just a low-class, trashy piece of work, aren’t you? You’d do anything to ruin me.” Suddenly, the last five years—my quiet obedience to his strict “no office romance” rule—felt like a pathetic joke. The next day, I sent a text to my father. “I give up. I’m coming home to take over the family business.” … After confirming that the gold necklace was indeed the one I had paid for, I sent a message to the company-wide group chat. “Wishing Director Evans and Chelsea a long and happy life together.” A few minutes later, Chelsea replied, claiming it was just a game of ‘Truth or Dare,’ a command from her “master.” Then Aaron, who had been MIA all day, finally appeared. Are you insane? What the hell are you posting in the group chat? You’re both women, why do you have to be so damn jealous? Are you that desperate for a man? Before I could even type a response, he sent another message, a string of laughing emojis. What are you good for besides causing me trouble? Why don’t you just crawl back into your mother’s womb and stay there? His vulgar words still hit me like a punch to the gut, even though I should have been used to it by now. Disgusting. Utterly disgusting. The memory of me, just that morning, begging him to marry me, made my whole body tremble. “Forget it, Aaron,” Chelsea chimed in. “It’s my fault. I’ll go explain to Sophia right now!” “Don’t you dare!” Aaron’s voice boomed from my phone; he must have called her. Underneath the rage, I could hear a raw, unmistakable panic. “There are no cabs out there this late! Sophia, there’s a limit to your games! Do you really think I can’t crush you?” I hadn’t said a single word, but I could hear choked sobs from the other end of the line, followed by the rustling of clothes. “I’ll swim back if I have to, Aaron! Don’t stop me! I won’t let anyone spread rumors about you!” “Who gives a damn about that bitch? I’m firing her right now!” he roared. “Chelsea, you just stay here and relax. As long as I’m the director, no one is going to mess with you.” With that, he hung up. Even though I sent the word “Goodbye” less than five seconds later, he didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t. He had my notifications on silent unless it was something important. Two hours later, I had packed all my things. Every item in this apartment, from the kettle on the stove to the custom-designed feature wall in the living room, I had chosen myself. I had even bought the damn place, planning to surprise him by signing it over to him. Thank God I never told him. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Chelsea. Sophia, don’t worry, there’s nothing going on between me and Aaron. I’ve always seen him as a brother, a father figure. I would never have any improper thoughts about him. As if to prove her point, she sent two videos. One showed Aaron scrubbing her back in the bathtub. The other showed him tucking her into bed, singing a lullaby. In the past, I would have never dared to respond to such a blatant provocation. No matter what happened, I was always the one who ended up apologizing, begging for his forgiveness. Five years had worn away the passionate, hysterical girl who would fight for love. But now, I realized that my quiet endurance had been just another form of weakness. Are you itchy? I typed back. Are you sending me these because you want me to curse you out, so you can put your phone on vibrate and stick it up your ass? The “typing” bubble appeared and disappeared for a long time. See? You’re so emotional, she finally sent. I blocked her number. I didn’t sleep a wink. I just sat there, in the dark, until the first light of dawn. Then I texted my father. “I give up. I’m coming home to take over the family business.” My dad, the old man, responded with a string of flower emojis. Are you sure? You’re not messing with me? “I’m not messing with you.” A bitter smile touched my lips. Ha! I just won a five-million-dollar bet with your Uncle David! I knew it! My throat tightened. “You should have come home ages ago! You can have any man you want. Why waste your time on that one loser?” he continued. “I’ll buy that little company you work for first thing in the morning. A little toy for you to play with. How dare they bully my daughter? They must be blind!” “It’s fine, Dad.” “I want to do this myself. One day, I’ll be the one to acquire them.” The old man paused, then sighed. “You’re just like your mother.” “No matter what happens, Dad will always be here for you.” I hung up, took a deep breath, and prepared to leave. But as I opened the door, I ran right into Chelsea and Aaron. “There. Are you happy now?” Aaron strode into the apartment, his leather shoe coming down hard on my foot, grinding his heel into my instep. The pain was excruciating. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, my head ringing. I first met him during a hurricane. He’d lost his footing and was nearly blown away. The rain was so heavy that day, the water was up to our ankles. I’d grabbed him, and in the process, a piece of glass had pierced my foot, leaving a permanent scar. Aaron’s eyes widened for a second, a flash of guilt in their depths. But then he glanced over his shoulder at Chelsea, and the guilt vanished, replaced by a cold hardness. “Apologize to Chelsea.” “If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to get back here, and she wouldn’t have gotten into that car accident.” I looked past him at Chelsea, who was standing there perfectly straight, without a single scratch on her. “Don’t you know that car almost ran over her big toe? We’re lucky she’s okay, or our lives would have been over!” Aaron’s voice was sharp, accusatory. He looked at me as if I were a murderer. “Sophia, you’d better say what I want to hear. Or else… a little country girl like you… it would be nothing for me to blacklist you from this entire industry.” “An ant needs to know its place. You can’t fight a giant. You’ve heard that before, right?” Chelsea wrapped her arms around Aaron’s waist from behind and shook her head. “Aaron, sweetie, it’s not her fault. She’s never had a proper education. A well-educated person like me shouldn’t stoop to her level. Let’s just drop it.” “What am I?” I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to slap them both. For five years, Chelsea had been like a fly buzzing around a pile of shit, constantly circling me, never letting up. “Chelsea,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a very long time.” SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Aaron’s face turned a deathly pale, his hands trembling with rage. “I told you to apologize!” My face was on fire, the taste of blood in my mouth. Chelsea let out a sharp, mocking laugh. Shame, rage, and a crushing helplessness flooded my veins. “Sophia, is it that hard to apologize? You’re the one who’s in the wrong!” Aaron grabbed a shoehorn from the entryway table and brought it down hard on my knee. “Chelsea is being generous by not making you kneel! And you’re still pushing it? Who the hell do you think you are?” I remembered just a few days ago, crying, begging him for forgiveness. But now, I was just tired. I just wanted to leave. Arguing with him felt beneath me. “Sophia, if you walk out that door, we’re done!” Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, a flicker of panic, almost imperceptible, crossed Aaron’s face. “Fine.” I nodded, feeling nothing, and limped out the door. Five years. Five goddamn years, all fed to a dog. Suddenly, a powerful force slammed into me from behind. I flew forward, instinctively throwing out my right hand to break my fall. A searing pain shot through my arm. I yanked it back, and a large flap of skin tore away, exposing the white muscle beneath. When I opened my eyes, I was at the bottom of the stairs, my head throbbing from where it had hit the stone steps. And Aaron, my boyfriend, was standing at the top, protectively shielding Chelsea. No concern. No worry. Just a look of cold satisfaction on his face as he pulled Chelsea back into the apartment. “Serves you right!” “You can kneel there and think about what you did. And don’t you dare get up until you understand what you did wrong!” The pain was overwhelming. I couldn’t move. I could only lie there, crumpled on the ground like a stray dog. By the time a kind neighbor found me and got me to the hospital, it was too late to avoid major surgery. My right hand. The most important tool for a designer. And I had to watch, helpless, as they drilled one steel pin after another into the shattered bones. My heart felt like it had turned to ash. Three days later, Aaron posted on his social media. It was a picture of him and Chelsea, locked in a passionate embrace. He was wearing the suit I had designed for him. The matching woman’s suit, tailored to my exact measurements, hung loosely on Chelsea’s frame, making her look like a sad, clumsy clown. Less than two minutes after he posted it, my phone rang. “Have you calmed down?” “It’s Chelsea’s birthday today. She wants to bury the hatchet. Don’t forget to get her a nice gift.” Aaron’s voice was casual, as if nothing had happened. Only the constant, throbbing pain in my hand was there to remind me. “Okay.” A nice gift… For five years, I hadn’t taken a single penny from my family. The hundred thousand dollars I had saved up, I had spent on gold to make Aaron happy. Now, after one surgery, my bank account had a balance of twenty-five cents. Chelsea wanted a nice gift? Ha. I wondered if bankrupting her would count. I made my arrangements. Right on time, I arrived at the party. Aaron stood at the door, his arm around Chelsea’s waist, looking for all the world like a newlywed couple. When they saw me, they intertwined their fingers. “Sophia, you came empty-handed?!” Aaron’s face darkened. “I should have known you had no class. Look at what you’re wearing. Rags. And all those bandages… you’re disgusting.” “You’re just here to ruin my night, aren’t you?” Chelsea couldn’t hide the glee in her eyes. She shook her head, forcing a placid expression. “It’s fine, Aaron. It’s enough that she came.” “Besides,” she added, a sly smile playing on her lips. “As long as you’re here, that’s the only gift I need.” “Although… I do have a surprise for you…” As she said the word “surprise,” she touched her stomach. Just that one gesture, and my breath caught in my throat. I clutched my phone tighter. In all our years together, Aaron had never crossed that line. Even in our most passionate moments, when I was wrapped around him, he would always pull away and take a cold shower. He said his first time was important, that he would never give it to a “gold-digger” like me. The other people at the party, all our colleagues, started to hoot and cheer. That’s when I noticed them. Aaron’s parents. And his younger brother. “Aaron,” Chelsea said, her voice soft and full of emotion. “Even though it’s my birthday, none of it would mean anything if you weren’t here.” “I know you don’t believe in marriage, but I worry about you being alone when you’re old. So… I selfishly decided to keep a part of you for myself.” She looked up at him, her eyes shining with sincerity. “The baby is two months along. It’s a girl. She’s beautiful, and she looks just like you.” Two months… My world tilted on its axis. My head felt like it was about to explode. My mother died when I was young. I was raised by my aunt. Two months ago, my aunt passed away. And Aaron had been by my side, seemingly inseparable. He was with me during the day, and with Chelsea at night. And I, like a fool, thought I had finally won his heart. It was just guilt. A pathetic attempt to atone for his sins. Aaron’s parents started clapping, leading the cheers. I could hear people whispering. Aaron was known for his ruthless, zero-tolerance policy on office romances. The last person who tried to hide a relationship was sued into bankruptcy and ended up in jail. But he just patted Chelsea’s back reassuringly and said, his voice calm and steady, “In that case, I’ll have to fire Sophia.” “After all, she’s the one who seduced me in the first place, shamelessly clinging to me and calling herself my girlfriend.” “A woman like that is a disgrace to this company.” Instantly, all eyes were on me. I could feel the weight of their judgmental stares, the invisible green hat of the cuckold settling firmly on my head. “Are you finished?” To everyone’s surprise, I just smiled. “Then it’s my turn to present my gift.” I clapped my hands twice, and suddenly, the room was filled with police officers. The one in charge stepped forward and addressed me with a respectful bow. “Ms. Sonny.” Aaron doubled over with laughter. “Sophia, are you on something? Where did you find all these actors? On your salary, you must have bankrupted yourself to hire this many.” “‘Ms. Sonny’?” he spat. “Give me a break!” His saliva hit my face. The older police officer, a man in his fifties, turned pale and rushed to get me a tissue. “Sophia, why do you always have to pretend to be something you’re not?” Chelsea sneered, stepping to the side. “Can’t we women be a little more gracious? I would give up my entire life for Aaron. And you? You’re just a bitch in heat.” Aaron’s younger brother, seeing the chaos, started running around, kicking over decorations and making a mess of the party. His parents, who had him late in life, doted on him, spoiling him rotten. Out of love for Aaron, I had always tolerated the little monster. I let him ride on my back like a horse, circling the living room ten times, all in the hopes of earning a sliver of Aaron’s affection. “Nathan! Get down from there!” Aaron’s lips thinned, a storm brewing in his eyes. He strode forward and raised his hand to slap his brother. So he could get angry! He did know his brother was a little demon. He did know how to protect others. He just never, ever stood on my side. But before the slap could land, his father grabbed his arm, and his mother kicked him hard in the shin. “That’s enough! What are you doing?” “You… what’s-her-name,” his father barked at me. “Come over here and apologize! Such a disrespectful thing.” “You’re just a gold-digger from the countryside, trying to climb the social ladder on our family’s coattails. You should be grateful we even let you in the door!” Five years. For five whole years, they couldn’t even be bothered to remember my name. “Wait, I don’t think this is an act,” someone whispered from the crowd. “That old guy in the front, he’s on the news all the time. I recognize him.” “It can’t be… I thought Sophia was from the country.” “Who knows? Maybe she’s some secret billionaire. Let’s just watch the show.” The room fell silent.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393447”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At the Film Guild Awards, my girlfriend, the newly crowned Actress of the Year, announced her engagement. My heart hammering against my ribs, I started towards the stage, but she held up a hand, stopping me cold. “Could you please step aside? You’re blocking the shot of my fiancé.” I froze. In that moment of stunned silence, another actor, Aidan, slid past me, effortlessly taking my place at her side. Seven years. Seven years of devotion, of being the man in the shadows. I was done being invisible. As I watched them kiss for the cameras, a storm of applause erupting around them, I turned and walked out of the auditorium without a word. I went home, packed a bag, and sent her one last text. “Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.” 1 It was two in the morning when Isla finally drifted through the door. She saw me packing and, without a word, picked up the glass of honey water I’d left on the table, downing it in one go. “Richard, what was that text supposed to mean? My engagement to Aidan is just a publicity stunt, the studio set it all up. He’s been drowning in scandals lately, and if we don’t clean up his image, it’s going to kill the box office for our new movie.” She sighed, a picture of weary frustration. “It’s all an act for the fans. You can’t seriously believe it, can you? God, can you just make my life a little easier for once?” As her former manager, I knew all about the dirty games of the entertainment industry. Of course I knew. Tonight was supposed to be the biggest night of her life. She’d won Best Actress for a blockbuster drama that had taken the world by storm. It was also our seventh anniversary. She had promised me. She promised that tonight, she would finally tell the world about us. That after seven long years of being the secret boyfriend, the “personal assistant,” I would finally get to stand by her side. Toward the end of the ceremony, she did it. Standing before a sea of reporters, Isla finally revealed the secret she’d kept for so long—that she was in a long-term relationship. The room exploded. I was the only one silent, my palms sweating with a nervous excitement. “All these years,” she began, her voice thick with emotion, tears welling in her eyes, “my boyfriend has been my silent rock. Without his support, his sacrifice… I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.” Clutching the bouquet of flowers I had prepared, I walked towards the stage, my whole body trembling. But when Isla took the flowers from me, she pushed me aside with a flash of impatience. “Richard, what are you still doing here?” Her voice was a sharp whisper. “Could you please step aside? You’re blocking the shot of my fiancé.” In a daze, I stumbled back. I watched as Aidan moved in, wrapping his arm around her waist, their fingers lacing together. He shot me a triumphant smirk as he deliberately shouldered me off the stage. Then, for the world to see, they shared a deep, passionate kiss. Seeing that, a switch flipped inside me. I turned and left. Seven years of waiting, all for a beautiful, hollow dream. And now, I was done waiting. As I zipped my suitcase shut, the displeasure on Isla’s face finally softened. She wrapped her arms around me from behind, her voice a husky, tired whisper. “Richard, I know you’re upset. But my hands are tied, you know that.” “I’ve already cleared my schedule for next week. You said you wanted to go to the Maldives, right? I bought the tickets. It’ll be just the two of us…” This was her way. A grand gesture to smooth over a deep wound. She’d done it a hundred times before. I gently broke free from her embrace, reached into my pocket, and pulled out a small, velvet box. I opened it and pressed the simple, elegant engagement ring into her palm. “If you’re getting engaged,” I said, my voice flat, “you’re going to need this, aren’t you?” 2 Isla just stood there, staring at the ring in her hand, speechless. She watched me pick up my suitcase and walk out the door. She didn’t say a word to stop me. I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address to my small house tucked away in the hills. Isla had bought it on a whim after her first massive paycheck, saying it would be our future home. The deed was in my name. When we first graduated, Isla had no connections, no resources. She was just another struggling actress, taking bit parts and barely making rent. There were times when the two of us lived in a tiny, cramped apartment, and the best meal we could afford was instant ramen and stale bread. I did everything I could to get her a break. I hustled, I networked, I drank myself into a stomach ulcer schmoozing with producers and directors, all just to land her a supporting role with more than five lines. And she shone. Slowly, she started to gain a following. A low-budget web series she starred in went viral, and she won Best Newcomer. From a nameless face in the background, she skyrocketed into an A-list star with an eight-figure salary. I saw every struggle, every tear. A few years ago, a massively popular fantasy novel was being adapted into a series. The director wanted Isla for the lead. But she made a demand: the male lead had to be played by Aidan. A role that seasoned actors would have killed for was handed to a complete unknown. At the time, I thought she was just being kind, seeing a kindred spirit in another kid who came from nothing. Until the wrap party. I was outside the dressing room when I overheard them talking. “So, Isla,” Aidan’s voice was teasing. “You got a secret boyfriend tucked away somewhere? I’ve never seen you do one of those fake ‘showmance’ PR things with a co-star. Is someone at home getting jealous?” “Where did you hear that I was seeing someone?” Isla’s laugh was light, dismissive. “I just don’t need that kind of publicity.” She denied my existence. A familiar pang of hurt shot through me, but I told myself it was for the best. She had always said she didn’t want to go public too early, that it would disrupt my life. “Oh?” Aidan pressed, his tone feigning confusion. “So that guy who’s always on set, bringing you tea and water… he’s not your boyfriend?” “You mean Richard? He’s just my assistant. He’s been with me for a while,” she said. “Me, date a civilian? Please. If I were going to date someone, it would have to be someone like you…” That’s when I felt the rage. White-hot and blinding. I was about to storm in and demand an explanation. 3 But I didn’t. My hand was on the knob, but I pulled it back. I was a coward. I was afraid that if I confronted her, if I blew everything up, she would just let it all burn. And I would be left with nothing. She was an idol, worshipped by millions. And me? I was just her nameless assistant, her ghost of a manager. What right did I have to question her? Ding! The buzz of a text message jolted me from a half-sleep. I glanced down. It was just a notification from my phone carrier about an overdue bill. Sprawled on the dusty couch of the empty house, my eyes were dry and sore. There were no tears left to cry. I remembered I’d left some important documents and personal items back at her place. The next morning, I went back. The moment I walked in, I was hit by the smell of freshly cooked food. “You’re back,” Isla said with a soft smile, as if nothing had happened. “Go wash your hands. We were just waiting for you.” I looked at the spread of hot dishes on the table, and for a moment, my resolve wavered. I was about to sit down, to try and have a calm, rational conversation about us ending things. But then my eyes caught a figure slouched on the corner of the sofa. Aidan. His shirt was unbuttoned, and a faint, red mark was visible on his neck. A hickey. He saw me and didn’t even flinch. He just stood up slowly, a look of utter disdain on his face, and deliberately bumped my shoulder as he passed. He tossed a set of car keys at me. “The building management called. Your car’s blocking someone. You’re here now, so go move it.” He clearly had no idea who I was to her. He really thought I was just some servant he could order around. “Well? What are you waiting for?” I looked at Isla, my face a blank mask. She said nothing. She just gave me a look, a silent command in her eyes, telling me to do as Aidan said. After a long moment, I let the keys drop to the floor. “Get your own gopher to run your errands,” I said to Aidan, my voice cold. “I have no obligation to serve you.” The atmosphere in the room instantly turned to ice. Aidan’s face darkened. He clearly didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Isla, so he just let out a long, put-upon sigh. “Oh, right. I forgot you’re Isla’s assistant. My bad, I was out of line. Sorry about that.” Before I could respond, Isla’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Aidan is my fiancé. His business is my business. What’s your problem?” 4 In that instant, my patience, stretched thin over seven long years, finally snapped. I bent down, picked up the keys, and walked to the door. Isla rushed after me, whispering urgently in my ear. “He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know how to watch his mouth. Don’t stoop to his level.” “The press is coming by later for a photoshoot,” she added quickly. “We’re just getting into character. Don’t get the wrong idea.” I turned and looked at her, studying the subtle twitches of her perfectly composed face. But it was no use. Isla was a professional actress. Even when she was lying through her teeth, I couldn’t tell. As if on cue, Aidan, emboldened by his small victory, decided to twist the knife. He let out a low, mocking laugh. “Wow. I guess assistants these days pick and choose who they work for. Are we paying for help, or are we supposed to be worshipping them?” He sighed dramatically. “Since you’re so unwilling, I guess I’ll just go myself.” That single sentence ripped open a fresh wound. Six months ago, after their fantasy drama became a massive hit, the cast and crew had a celebration at a five-star restaurant. I was at home, burning up with a 102-degree fever. Then I got a text from Isla: Get here in twenty minutes. It’s important. I thought, it’s her victory party. She wants me there to share her happiness. So I dragged myself out of bed and rushed over. But when I got there, it wasn’t to celebrate. It was because Aidan and a few of the directors had gotten drunk and thrown up all over the private dining room. Isla, the glamorous star, couldn’t handle the mess, so she called me to clean it up. Sick and dizzy, I spent the next hour on my hands and knees, scrubbing vomit off the expensive carpet. Then I had to call cabs, book hotel rooms, and make sure everyone got back safely. I didn’t finish until three in the morning. Isla never said a word of thanks. She just complained that I was “off my game” and that I was working too slowly. For seven years, 365 days a year, I had no time for myself. My phone was on 24/7, always on standby. All for a few thousand dollars a month in spending money. What A-list celebrity’s assistant lived like that? Seeing her still siding with him, I finally understood. Everything became crystal clear. I took a deep breath. “Ms. Vance,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m afraid I can no longer continue as your assistant. I suggest you find someone else.” A flicker of shock crossed her face. Her fists clenched at her sides, and I could see the red veins in her eyes. “Richard, don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t a game. You can’t just quit whenever you feel like it.” Her words made me laugh out loud. A hollow, bitter sound. For all these years, I was just her “assistant.” We never even signed a contract. I didn’t need her permission to leave. “Then sue me,” I said. “If you think it’ll do you any good.” With that, I grabbed my documents, my few remaining belongings, and walked out the door. “Quitting” was just a euphemism. She knew exactly what I really meant.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393446”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my mother-in-law died, I gave up, letting the hurricane tear me from the ground. I landed at my husband Jake’s feet—the rescue captain on his way to expose my “lies.” His mother was gone, blood pooling near his boots as his face crumbled. “How… how could this be?” He didn’t know the truth. I had been reborn. In my past life, Souad was pinned under an oak. I called for help, but Jake diverted his team to find his ex’s dog. “Stop the act, Tanya!” he snarled. “A woman like you deserves to be crushed!” I watched Souad die, my hands bloody from trying to lift the trunk. Jake blamed me, letting me and our child die in agony—then started a new life with Zoey. When I opened my eyes, I was back. The day the hurricane hit. … The wind sliced at my skin like a thousand tiny knives. I braced my pregnant belly, my hands clawing at the rough bark of the tree, trying to lift it, trying to save Souad pinned beneath. It was useless, like an ant trying to move a mountain. My hands were already slick with blood, but the trunk wouldn’t budge an inch. Souad, her strength failing, lifted a weak hand and tugged at my pant leg, trying to speak. Her voice was a whisper, lost in the howling gale. Then, an eerie calm descended. The eye of the storm was passing over. I leaned down, pressing my ear to her lips. “My sweet girl,” she rasped, her voice trembling. “You have the baby to think of. Go. Run, find somewhere safe, now!” “After I’m gone, my million dollars, the house… it’s all yours. Find your own happiness, you hear me? I’m so sorry, Tanya. I’m so, so sorry…” Her words dissolved into a wet cough as she choked up a mouthful of blood. Souad had treated me like her own daughter. Even now, her only thought was for my safety. A pain so sharp it stole my breath stabbed through my chest. No matter how many times I had to live this life, I would never abandon her. “Mom, hold on,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “Jake is the captain of the rescue squad! He’ll be here any minute, he’ll save you!” A flicker of hope ignited in her eyes, but as the words left my mouth, my own heart sank like a stone. I knew better. Last time, Jake never even answered my call. Remembering this, I grabbed Souad’s phone from her pocket and dialed his number. He wouldn’t ignore his own mother’s phone, would he? He picked up on the first ring. “Jake! Mom is trapped under a fallen tree! You have to get over here, we’re on—” “Tanya?” His voice was ice. “How dare you drag my mother into your pathetic little drama?” “It’s not a drama!” I stomped my foot in desperation, my eyes locked on Souad’s whimpering, helpless form. “How could I possibly joke about something like this? We’re on City Hall Avenue—” “Don’t even try it! I know some trees are down over there. You think that makes your story believable? A pathological liar like you is the one who deserves to be crushed!” Just as he finished, a cloyingly sweet voice drifted through the phone. “Jakey, honey, come hold me. I’m so scared.” I recognized it instantly. Zoey. His ex. The absurdity of it all ignited a fire in my gut. “You’d rather stay there fooling around with her than save your own mother? Are you even human, Jake?!” “Don’t be ridiculous, Tanya. You’re the one making false emergency calls! I have to help Zoey secure her windows. Stop calling and bothering me!” He hung up. When I tried to call back, I was blocked. Souad, who had heard everything, closed her eyes in utter despair, two silent tears tracing paths through the dirt on her cheeks. “It’s no use. Go, child. This is my punishment for raising such a heartless son.” I bit my lip, refusing to give up. I dialed the rescue squad’s main dispatch. The dispatcher was one of Jake’s subordinates, a young man named Miller. I quickly explained the situation. His voice was grave. “Ma’am, Mrs. Turner? Please, hang in there. I’m dispatching a unit immediately!” I thanked him, my heart pounding as I began to pace. But ten minutes stretched into an eternity, and the empty road remained empty. No flashing lights, no siren. The wind was already picking up again. Once the eye of the storm passed, the hurricane’s fury would return with a vengeance. Souad wouldn’t survive it. Frantic, I was about to call dispatch again when my phone rang. It was Jake. “Are you insane, Tanya?!” he roared. “Just because you’re my wife doesn’t mean you can abuse emergency resources! Your jealousy has to have a limit!” A sickening premonition washed over me, and my eyes filled with tears. “She’s not going to make it, Jake,” I begged, my voice shaking. “Please, just believe me this one time! If I’m lying, may I drop dead right here! Even if you don’t care about me or the baby, she’s your mother!” There was a brief silence on his end, but then the phone was snatched away. It was Zoey, her voice a broken, tear-choked mess. “Tanya, I know you hate me,” she sobbed, “but Dumpling is like a child to me and Jake! He’s missing! How could you call in a fake emergency and stop the rescue team from looking for him? Every minute he’s out there is another minute of danger! If something happens to him, I… I don’t want to live anymore!” Dumpling. The dog he and Zoey had raised together. The dog he still visited in the middle of the night, even after we were married. The irony was suffocating. When that dog had a cold, Jake was a wreck, fussing over it day and night. When I had a raging fever during my pregnancy, I didn’t even get a single word of concern. All the resentment I had buried came surging to the surface. I was done with Zoey’s performance. “You didn’t leash your dog in the middle of a hurricane? Sounds like you let him out on purpose! Why don’t you check the security cameras or look around your own neighborhood instead of wasting the time of a rescue team that has actual human lives to save?!” Zoey’s sobs escalated into hysterical gasps. Jake’s voice exploded with rage. “A dog is a living creature too! God, Tanya, you’re just a cold, heartless, jealous bitch!” “No matter how heartless I am,” I said, my voice dripping with ice, “I’m not the monster who’d let his own mother die.” That was the spark that lit the fuse. “You bitch! How long are you going to keep up this act? You just had my mom send Zoey a string of hateful messages, and now you’re cursing her to death? What is wrong with you!” he screamed. “Tanya, a soulless monster like you should just hurry up and die!” His words grew viler, uglier. My last shred of hope withered and died. I hung up. Just as I was about to try calling Miller again, a text message came through from him. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Turner. The captain just gave a direct order. All units are being redirected to The Willows apartment complex. The truck that was halfway to you had to turn back. The captain was very specific… that we were to ignore your call. I’m sorry. It’s a critical situation, we can’t afford to waste resources. I looked at Souad, who had passed out from the pain. In a fit of desperate agony, I slammed my fists against the tree trunk, a raw, hopeless scream tearing from my throat. The hurricane roared back to life, its power even more terrifying than before. This time, broken in body and spirit, I had no fight left. I collapsed to the ground, limp and defeated, and let the ferocious wind lift me like a rag doll. It threw me through the air, and I slammed hard against an oncoming vehicle. My head shattered the windshield, and a hot, wet gush of blood erupted from between my legs. In the driver’s seat, I saw him. Jake. One arm was wrapped around Zoey, his eyes wide with an expression of pure, uncomprehending horror. His mouth opened, and I could just make out the shape of the words. “How could—”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393445”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At my uncle’s funeral, my little sister addressed the mourners, her voice trembling for all to hear. “Mom was having an affair with Uncle Ben,” she sobbed. “My sister Sharon isn’t Dad’s real daughter. I wanted to keep this secret forever, but Mom, what you’ve done… it’s gone too far.” I’m Sharon. And it’s true; I’ve always been the spitting image of my uncle. My mother, her face a mask of agony, denied everything. But with Uncle Ben dead, there was no way to prove it. My father, in front of everyone, humiliated my mother. He was going to throw us out. I quietly took out my phone and started a live stream. The truth is always so much more brutal, and so much more entertaining, than a lie. 1 My mom stared at my sister, Mandy, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Mandy, why would you say that?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m your mother. How could you do this to me?” If I’m being honest, of the three of us kids, Mom always loved Mandy the most. It was a constant refrain in our house: “She’s the youngest. You’re the big brother and sister, you have to let her have her way.” So Mandy grew up as the family princess, spoiled rotten. Now, she cowered behind our father, tears streaming down her face. “Mom, I know you love me, and I love you, too! But you and Uncle Ben… you shouldn’t have done those things. And then you had Sharon.” She glanced at Dad. “Daddy loves me so much. I just couldn’t lie for you anymore.” “Every time Uncle Ben came over, you two would sneak off together. I was always too scared to say anything. But this time… you got him killed. I have to speak up now.” My aunt, Uncle Ben’s widow, lunged at my mother, screaming, held back by a crowd of relatives. My father’s hand cracked across my mother’s face. “You whore,” he snarled, his face contorted with rage. “How could you do this to me? You’re no better than an animal.” I rushed to shield my mom, and he kicked me so hard I crumpled to the floor. He pointed a shaking finger at my face. “You bastard!” Every eye in the room was on me. My uncle’s funeral portrait was right behind my head. The resemblance was uncanny. We looked like we were cast from the same mold. So no matter how vehemently my mother swore her innocence, no one believed her. Especially when the one accusing her was the daughter she had cherished for twenty years. Everyone believed Mandy. 2 “I wasted my life raising you,” my mother cried, pointing a trembling finger at Mandy. “I wasted all my love on you. I lost my son because of you, and this is how you repay me!” She collapsed onto the floor, shaking uncontrollably. To be betrayed by the child you treasure most… there is no greater pain. Ten years ago, Mandy fell into the river. My older brother, Leo, jumped in to save her. Mom jumped in, too. But Leo couldn’t swim. Soon, both he and Mandy were on the verge of drowning. As Mom hesitated, unsure who to save first, Leo, ever the little hero, sputtered, “Mom, save Mandy first! I’m a big boy, I can hold on.” Mom listened to him. She chose to save Mandy. But by the time she dragged Mandy to the shore, Leo was gone, swallowed by the river. His body surfaced two days later. The guilt nearly destroyed my mother. She’s suffered from insomnia ever since. She was on antidepressants and sleeping pills for eight years, only stopping in the last two. After that, with just the two of us girls left, a heavy cloud settled over our house. My father, busy with work, cried his eyes out for a week after Leo died, and then he threw himself back into his career. I never saw that grief in his eyes again. He even tried to comfort my mom. “It was an accident. Nobody wanted it to happen. But it did, and the living have to go on living. We still have two daughters. You can’t let this destroy your health.” My mom was a small business owner. She ran a chain of ten successful bakeries. After Leo’s death, she shut them all down. On the surface, she seemed to recover, but I knew she was still trapped on that riverbank. Her pillow was always dry at night and soaked by morning. For the last ten years, we’ve bought pillowcases by the dozen. But even in her deepest pain, she never once blamed Mandy. 3 She treated her just as she always had. At dinner, the best piece of chicken always went to Mandy first, and I got the smaller one. Eventually, because Mandy loved chicken wings so much, I didn’t even get the small ones anymore. One time, Mom secretly saved one for me. When Mandy found out, she cried for a day and a night, throwing a tantrum and accusing Mom of playing favorites. That evening, when Dad got home from work, he had to take her, and only her, out for McDonald’s to calm her down. Mom pulled me aside later. “Your sister’s young, she doesn’t know any better,” she whispered. “Just let her have her way. I’ll take you out for McDonald’s tomorrow, just us. I won’t let you feel left out.” Because of how I was raised, I grew up always giving in to her. But I’m only one year older than she is. “Mom, I’ve been a good daughter to you, too!” Mandy wailed now, her voice rising. “How can you blame me for what happened to Leo? You were the one who told us the river was shallow enough to play in! If you hadn’t said that, Leo wouldn’t have died, and I wouldn’t have almost died! You made me the scapegoat when I was little, and I let you. But I’m educated now. I know right from wrong. I have to tell the truth!” She grew more and more agitated, her performance for the crowd becoming more theatrical. “For all these years, I’ve had to walk on eggshells in this house! After what happened, Mom never loved me the same. Whenever her depression got bad, she’d either hit me or scream at me. One time, she even tried to push me down the stairs! I put up with it all. I told myself she still loved me. But there are two daughters in this house.” She shot me a venomous look. “And the way Mom treats Sharon is completely different. Sharon gets the lean meat, I get the fat. Sharon wears designer clothes, and I have to wear stuff from Shein! I don’t want to complain about it, but I’m your daughter, too! Why are you so biased?” And just like that, I understood why Mandy was dressed so… shabbily today. 4 A few days ago, she’d bought a $9.99 t-shirt, $15.99 black pants, and $19.99 canvas sneakers online. I’d asked her, “Why the sudden change in style? Buying such cheap clothes?” She just smiled sweetly. “Oh, I’m doing some volunteer work in a few days, sis. I don’t want to look too flashy.” Normally, nothing she wore cost less than five hundred dollars. Our family was well-off. My dad believed in raising his daughters to have the best, so he gave us each a $5,000 monthly clothing allowance. I usually saved most of mine, but Mandy blew through hers every single month. Last year, she transferred sixty thousand dollars from my account without my permission, all to buy clothes and shoes. That’s when I discovered that my dad was actually giving Mandy ten thousand a month, while I only got five. And that’s when I finally realized, with a sickening lurch, that my father treated us differently, too. My mom was devastated, unable to defend herself. The solution was simple: a DNA test would clear everything up instantly. I suggested it. But my father was resolute. “You’re the spitting image of your uncle. We don’t need a test. Your face is all the proof I need!” Mandy continued her tearful performance. “My aunt can’t have children. Uncle Ben wanted a child of his own, so he targeted Mom.” And because it was true that my uncle was childless, almost everyone believed her story. Under a barrage of dagger-like stares, I asked my father, “Are you sure you want to throw this family away?” 5 Dad’s eyes were practically bulging out of his head with rage. If people hadn’t been holding him back, he would have beaten me to a pulp. “Sharon is not my child. From now on, she has nothing to do with me. The house, the cars, the company—I built all of that myself. You two can get the hell out with nothing but the clothes on your backs.” His decision was final. I tried one last time. “Uncle Ben and Mom are siblings. Genetically, it’s normal for nieces and nephews to resemble their uncles. You can’t just listen to one side of the story and forget that Mom has been by your side through thick and thin. You know better than anyone how devoted she’s been to you and this family.” My mom once told me that when she and Dad were dating, my grandparents were dead set against it. He was an orphan. Marrying him meant no dowry, no big wedding, and no grandparents to help with the kids. I’ve seen pictures of my mom when she was young. She was beautiful. She could have had any man she wanted. When I was little, we were poor. Dad worked odd jobs while Mom woke up before dawn to make and sell tofu and bean sprouts. With her hard work, they saved up their first bit of money, and she gave it all to him to start his business. She said he was a brilliant man who just needed a chance. All these years later, her judgment was both spot-on and dead wrong. She thought she was happy. Her husband was still the same loving man, and they were financially secure. Just yesterday, my dad was washing her feet, calling her his “darling wife.” So this sudden, absolute betrayal from him left her more confused than anything. She just kept staring at him, her eyes blurring with tears that she stubbornly wiped away, again and again. Finally, her voice was a broken whisper. “David… I don’t even know who you are anymore.” My dad’s eyes were red with fury and disgust. “No, you’re the one who’s been fooling me for twenty years! You are the most vile, shameless woman I have ever known! There’s nothing more to say. I never want to see you again!” My grandparents rushed forward, pleading with my dad to calm down, to at least get through the funeral for my uncle’s sake, to not make such an ugly scene. My dad had a great reputation. He was known as an honest, hardworking, doting husband. He was always good to my grandparents. Everyone always said my mom had hit the jackpot. Today was the first time he’d ever lost his temper and hit his wife and child in public. So when this bomb dropped, everyone instinctively sided with him. “Fine,” my dad said magnanimously. “For the sake of the family we once were, I won’t make a scene here. But the divorce is happening.” He took Mandy’s hand and started to leave. I stopped him. “Since we’re airing our dirty laundry, we might as well get it all out.” I looked him straight in the eye. “You’re the one choosing to disown me. So from this moment on, you’re no longer my father. You’ve been waiting a long time for this day, haven’t you?” He glared at me, a look that said he wanted to kill me. I had already contacted a lawyer, hoping to handle this quietly, to minimize the damage. But now? Now I was ready to go to war with my own father. 6 My grandma immediately grabbed my arm. “Sharon, honey, don’t be rash. This isn’t the time or place. Please, no more fighting.” She almost stumbled, leaning on me heavily, her voice a desperate whisper. “Sharon, just apologize. You can’t let this family fall apart.” My grandpa chimed in. “Your father’s furious right now. You’re the child, you can’t be so stubborn.” They both assumed that even if he wasn’t my biological father, after twenty years of calling him Dad, there had to be some bond between us. My dad’s face was a cold, hard mask. “I am not her father! From this moment on, all ties are severed. She was never mine to begin with. I’m done being the fool!” I stared at his merciless face and said, word by word, “You’re right. You have been a fool for twenty years. And you have raised a child that isn’t yours. But that child isn’t me.” My aunt rushed forward to cover my mouth. “Silly girl, stop talking! Isn’t this embarrassing enough? This isn’t the right time. No matter what you’re going through, you need to bury your… your uncle first.” Even she believed my dad and Mandy. Her voice was thin and unconvincing. She tried to pull me away, but I wrenched my arm free. “Someone is going to be embarrassed today, but it’s not going to be me or my mother!” My aunt whispered urgently, “Stop being so stubborn! I know this is hard to accept, but you have to think about your mother! She’s seriously ill, her medical bills are going to be huge! You can’t let her divorce your father!” The relatives were split into two camps, one trying to calm my dad, the other trying to reason with me. But we’re both cut from the same stubborn cloth. Neither of us would back down. This had to be settled, right here, right now. Even my mom, heartbroken, tried to stop me. “Sharon, let it go. It’s no use. Your father won’t believe us. From now on, it will just be the two of us.” My mother is a kind soul. Even after Mandy had stabbed her in the heart, she couldn’t bear for me to expose Mandy’s true identity in front of everyone. 7 But I’m not my mother. I believe in an eye for an eye. I ignored her and pointed directly at Mandy. “You’re the bastard,” I spat. “You’re the one who doesn’t belong in this family. Did you really think I didn’t know?” My father was stunned. He never imagined I could possibly know the truth about Mandy. But he recovered quickly. “Your mother knows about Mandy,” he said, his voice full of self-righteousness. “Even if she’s not my biological child, she’s better than you! Your birth was a product of deceit and filth. Mandy is a victim of circumstance! You are nothing like her!” He was right. I wasn’t like her. She was the product of a love affair. I was the product of a conspiracy. My grandmother was frantic. “What is going on?!” My dad, with an air of noble sacrifice, addressed the crowd. “Mandy… my wife and I found her on the side of the road. We felt sorry for the poor child and took her in. We told everyone she was ours because we didn’t want her to be treated differently by family and friends. My conscience is clear on this matter!” Everyone looked at my mom, who was silent. They took her silence as confirmation. My grandmother stumbled over to my dad, grabbing his arm. “David, my dear boy, please, calm down. All these years, I’ve loved you like my own son. Let’s not even talk about whether this is true or not. You two have been married for so long, you’ve been a father to Sharon… please don’t say things you’ll regret.” My dad, ever the good guy, let his eyes redden. “Mom, I can tolerate anything else. But this… this humiliation, I can’t. She could have cheated with anyone! But with her own family—” He broke off, too ashamed to finish. He wasn’t the broke kid from years ago. He was a successful man with a reputation. Now that the secret was out, he wasn’t about to swallow his pride. His sister, my “aunt,” tried to mediate. “David, you were able to accept Mandy, who has no blood relation to you at all. Can’t you find it in your heart to forgive Sharon, too?” Meanwhile, other relatives were swarming my mom. “Catherine, stop crying! Go apologize to David! You’re family, there’s nothing you can’t get through.” “Catherine, you were in the wrong here. You need to be honest with him, beg for his forgiveness.” “Think about Sharon, if not yourself! You can’t let this family fall apart!” “Exactly! How will Sharon face the world after this? Catherine, don’t be stubborn. You’re not well. Now is the time to be humble.” Just then, the view count on my live stream shot past ten thousand. The comments were a torrent of abuse aimed at my mother. “This is insane. Worse than any soap opera.” “Look at how her own family is siding with the husband. That tells you everything you need to know about his character. What a thankless woman.” “Back in the day, women like her would have been run out of town on a rail.” “That poor girl, Sharon. Having a mother like that is the worst kind of luck.” My mother looked at my father and Mandy, her face a mask of bitter disappointment. “I have never done anything to betray you. The biggest regret of my life was picking Mandy up off the street and bringing her into our home.” Mandy just kept her head down, crying. “I know I shouldn’t have done this. I just didn’t want to see Dad get hurt anymore.” My father’s patience snapped. “Enough of this useless chatter. I’m having my assistant draft the divorce papers right now.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393444”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After I got pregnant, my husband became obsessed with his young, delicate secretary. On New Year’s Eve, he was in a private suite, “ringing in the new year” with his secretary, who was poured into a slinky red dress. When I burst in, she tilted her head back, displaying a constellation of angry red love bites on her pale neck. “Oh, Mrs. Brolin, don’t misunderstand! A new year is coming. I’m just helping Arthur cleanse all the bad luck for a fresh start.” My husband, irritated at the interruption, just grumbled. “You’re pregnant, you can’t satisfy me. I’m a normal man. I have needs, and Charlotte is just kind enough to help me out.” I was seven months pregnant. The shock sent a jolt through my body, and my water broke. The secretary sneered, accusing me of peeing my pants on purpose just to embarrass my husband. Furious at the humiliation, my husband locked me in the bathroom. He and his little secretary spent the next three days and nights together before he decided my punishment was over. But when he finally came home and saw my now-flat stomach, he lost his mind. 1 It was New Year’s Eve. My husband, Arthur Brolin, was out celebrating with his buddies. I, being pregnant, stayed home. As midnight approached, I received a text from him with an address. Wifey, I have a surprise for you. My heart filled with joy as I hailed a cab, my seven-month belly making the simple act of moving feel like a chore. I rushed to the exclusive club, imagining a sweet, romantic gesture. That bubble of happiness was instantly burst by a bucket of ice-cold reality. The private suite was a haze of expensive cigar smoke and the glittering chaos of a high-roller’s party. Arthur’s little secretary, Charlotte, was perched on his lap, her eyes hazy with desire, the tips of her ears flushed a deep red. She was a vision of pure, yet provocative, innocence. The veins on Arthur’s right hand bulged as he gripped her waist, her dress hiked up to her hips, one shoulder bare and gleaming. That red silk dress… it was a one-of-a-kind custom piece a famous designer had made for our wedding reception. A treasure. Now, he was using it as a prop for his sordid thrills. The sliver of Charlotte’s pale, slender waist was a knife twisting in my gut. “Arthur, darling, be gentle with me… a little slower,” she purred. “You little liar,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “You beg me for it five times a day, so why pretend to be so innocent now?” They kissed, a deep, tangled mess of limbs and lips, completely oblivious to the world around them. The others in the room didn’t even blink. I think I knew, then, who had really sent me that text. Arthur’s friends, each with a girl draped over them, watched the scene with amused, knowing smirks. One of them, Trevor, raised his glass. “Damn, that’s some killer New Year’s Eve battle armor, Charlotte. No wonder Arthur was willing to ditch the missus tonight.” Arthur tightened his grip on Charlotte’s waist, letting out a breathy chuckle. “You marry the respectable one, but you fuck the fun one. There are some things Josie just won’t do, so I have to find an outlet. I know where my priorities lie.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that still carried across the room. “Besides, since she got pregnant, Josie’s ballooned up. Honestly, it kills my appetite just looking at her. She’s got none of the fire that Charlotte has.” Charlotte’s manicured fingers traced circles on Arthur’s chest as she pouted playfully. “Arthur, you’re awful. What do you take me for? I’m a good girl, you know.” “Yes, yes, you are. Happy New Year, my darling girl.” Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a stunningly expensive diamond necklace, slipping it down the front of Charlotte’s messy dress. Her delighted giggles echoed in the suddenly quiet room. Someone joked, “Careful, Arthur. Aren’t you afraid Mrs. Brolin will find out and divorce you?” He just shrugged. “So what if she finds out? She loves me too much. Besides, where’s she gonna go, pregnant with my kid?” Their filthy flirtations resumed, punctuated by the cheers of his friends. “Arthur Brolin, you’re the fucking man!” My stomach churned, a wave of nausea washing over me. My face as pale as a ghost, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. My arrival shattered the laughter. Arthur quickly grabbed a jacket from the sofa and draped it over Charlotte’s shoulders. The irony was so thick I could taste it. I clenched my fists, my voice shaking with rage. “What’s the matter? She’s brave enough to ride you in front of a crowd, but you’re afraid to let her show a little shoulder?” “Don’t talk like that,” he snapped. “She’s a young girl. Have some decency.” Charlotte, now safely shielded by my husband, shot me a defiant look. “We’re just ringing in the new year, Josie. Out with the old, in with the new. You should try to understand.” The others scrambled to smooth things over, shooting me pleading looks, begging me to let Arthur save face. “Josie, we were just playing Truth or Dare! Things got a little wild, we’ve all had a bit too much to drink. We’ll do three shots right now to apologize. Just forgive Arthur, okay?” 2 I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word. Arthur’s face darkened with displeasure, his tone laced with blame. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay home and rest.” It felt like a thousand tiny needles were pricking my heart. I couldn’t believe this was the same man who had joyfully helped me decorate the nursery, who was now shielding another woman while spewing venom at me. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood before I could speak. “Arthur, you’re the one who said it. A cheater deserves to die a horrible death.” His expression turned ugly. “Watch your mouth, Josie. Charlotte and I are just… scratching an itch. You’ve let yourself go since you got pregnant. The fact that I can even stand to sleep next to you is a testament to my patience.” “Besides,” he scoffed, “in our circle, who doesn’t have someone on the side? At least I plan on coming back home to you after the baby’s born.” I cradled my belly, a wave of despair and fury rising within me. Pregnancy had inevitably made me gain weight, my legs swelling until they looked like carrots. I suffered from excruciating leg cramps in the middle of the night and was tormented by morning sickness that kept me awake for hours. My once-smooth skin had become rough and sallow. Arthur’s initial sympathy had curdled into impatience. He started “working late” every night. The disgust in his eyes whenever he glanced at the angry purple stretch marks on my stomach was impossible to miss. For the sake of our child, I pretended not to see it. I kept telling myself, it’ll be better once the baby is born. But how could he use the suffering I endured for him, for our child, as a weapon to belittle me? I shouldn’t have to stay with a monster for the sake of a child. “Arthur,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Let’s get a divorce.” His condescending smirk froze on his face. His voice held a note of absolute certainty. “Divorce? You’re pregnant with my child. Where would you go? As long as you two can get along, the title of Mrs. Brolin will always be yours.” Seeing the shattered look on my face, he softened his tone, as if speaking to a difficult pet. “Be a good girl, Josie. I promise you, the only Brolin heir will come from your belly.” Charlotte squirmed on his lap, feigning discontent. “Arthur, darling, don’t make Josie angry because of me. She’s carrying your child, after all!” He gave her slender waist a sharp squeeze. “That woman doesn’t get to be difficult. She’s the one being overly dramatic.” Watching these two dogs flirt shamelessly in front of me, I couldn’t control the violent spasms in my stomach. “Retch… hork…” The contents of my stomach sprayed outwards, hitting Arthur and Charlotte, who were closest to me. Charlotte, in particular, was covered. The expensive jacket was drenched in foul-smelling vomit. Her eyes turned red. She tore off the jacket and screamed, “You bitch! Did you do that on purpose?!” My own rage erupted. I slapped her hard across the face. “Who are you calling a bitch?” She shrieked and shoved me with all her might. “Arthur, you have to stand up for me! This was my New Year’s dress! She ruined it!” A waiter rushed over with hot towels. Arthur shot me a warning look. “Josie. That’s enough.” The shove had sent me off-balance. My heavy, cumbersome body crashed to the floor. I struggled to get up, my movements clumsy and pathetic, a source of amusement for the onlookers. “Hey Arthur,” one of them snickered. “Doesn’t Josie look like a turtle on its back, trying to get up?” “A fat turtle! Hahaha!” Tears stung my eyes. Before I could even process the humiliation, a sharp, cramping pain shot through my abdomen. A warm gush of fluid flooded out from between my legs. I looked down. A large, dark patch was spreading across the plush carpet beneath me. Oh no… Instinctively, I cried out to Arthur for help. “Arthur! Get me to a hospital, now!” “My water just broke…” 3 The words sobered Arthur up instantly. He scrambled to his feet, a flash of pity and regret in his eyes. “Josie, don’t be scared. I’ll take you to the hospital right now.” But then Charlotte’s voice, dripping with saccharine malice, cut through the air. “I’m so jealous of you, Josie. No matter what lies you tell, Arthur will always believe you without a second thought.” Arthur shook off the pale, slender hands that were wrapped around his waist, his voice like ice. “Get off me. If anything happens to my wife, you’ll be the one I hold responsible.” Shoved aside, Charlotte draped herself dramatically over the sofa. Undeterred, she used her red-stockinged foot to rub against his leg. “Arthur, darling, can’t you see? Josie was just so worked up she peed her pants.” “She’s only seven months along. It’s not her due date. How could her water have broken?” His friends clicked their tongues and shook their heads, their disgust palpable. “I heard pregnant women often lose control of their bladder. I guess it’s true.” “Can’t even control her own piss. No wonder Arthur needed to find a new plaything.” Arthur’s motion to pick me up halted. He let out a long breath, and the momentary concern on his face was replaced by a wave of furious embarrassment. He grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at my head. “Disgusting! To get my attention, you’d resort to any cheap trick, wouldn’t you?!” “No, it’s not a trick! I’m really in labor! My stomach hurts so much…” He watched me writhe on the floor, his eyes cold, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “A very convincing performance. If Charlotte hadn’t pointed it out, I might have actually fallen for it.” Charlotte’s eyes danced with glee. She threw herself into his arms, cooing, “Hmph. I’m your smartest little secretary, aren’t I?” The pain was so intense my voice trembled. “Help me… the baby… save the baby… Please, someone, call an ambulance.” Trevor let out a derisive snort. “Wow, Josie’s really committed to the bit. Pissing all over the floor and now she wants to waste medical resources.” Charlotte added fuel to the fire. “Imagine if word got out that Mrs. Brolin wet herself in public. What would that do to your reputation, Arthur? Josie, you’re being so thoughtless.” The thick cigarette smoke in the room made my head spin. A chilling realization washed over me. No one was going to help me. Ignoring the searing pain in my belly, I gritted my teeth and began to crawl toward my handbag a few feet away. My phone was in there. I could save myself. The sound of their laughter followed me, a chorus of mockery. “Damn, Arthur, your wife’s acting is top-notch. She deserves an Oscar!” “Maybe you should go comfort her, man! If she keeps pissing, she’s going to ruin the whole party.” Sweat poured down my face, soaking the hair at my temples. I ignored the taunts of the scum around me and finally, my fingers brushed against my purse. I fumbled inside, my hand closing around my phone. Just as my trembling finger was about to press the call button, Arthur’s shoe came down hard on my hand, kicking the phone across the room. “Enough! Are you insane? It’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re trying to harass emergency responders.” The pain was blinding. I curled into a ball on the floor. “I’m really in labor. The baby’s only seven months… it’s dangerous. This is your child, too. Please, let me go to the hospital…” An unnatural, violent pain ripped through my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I’d landed on the baby when I fell. For the sake of the life inside me, I swallowed my pride. I reached out and grabbed the hem of his pants, my voice a pathetic whisper. “Give me my phone. I’ll call the ambulance myself. I’m begging you…” “This is your own flesh and blood.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393443”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On my wedding day, my fiancé left me at the altar, announcing he had already married Stella. As the crowd’s laughter echoed around me, my childhood friend, Oscar, knelt with a diamond ring, his voice thick with emotion as he begged me to marry him instead. Moved to my core, I nodded. Seven months into my pregnancy, I was in a car accident. Oscar, a surgeon, operated on me himself. When I woke up, he told me the baby didn’t make it. And that I could never have children again. I was shattered. Oscar held me, his own tears streaming down his face, blaming himself for not protecting me and vowing to love me forever. But six years later, I accidentally received a recording of a phone call between him and a colleague: “Oscar, you did all that for Stella… faked her pregnancy certificate, staged a car crash just to make Mia go into early labor, and then gave her your own child. Do you have any regrets?” “Stella can’t have children. You expect me to just stand by and watch her future in-laws torment her? My only regret is that the baby was a girl. If it had been a boy, her position in that family would be unshakable.” All this time, I thought I had found true love. It was nothing but a meticulously crafted lie. … The sound of the shower was a steady hum from the bathroom. Oscar was washing away the day. In my ears, the recording played on. “But that was a huge risk. What if the crash hadn’t just induced labor? What if it had killed them both?” “It wouldn’t have. Stella and I spent months testing it. We ran simulations, hired people to stage crashes on junker cars, over and over.” The colleague’s voice was tinged with a strange sort of pity. “But Mia… they had to remove her uterus because of the accident. She can never have a child now. She wanted a baby so badly, and she loves you so much… Couldn’t you have just adopted one for Stella?” “No. It had to be my own. I wouldn’t trust a stranger’s child to love Stella properly.” “Have you ever thought about what you’ll do if Mia finds out?” A long pause from Oscar. Then, a heavy sigh. “She won’t. I’ll make sure of it. But if that day ever comes…I’m prepared to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.” The recording clicked off, plunging the room into silence. I clamped a hand over my mouth, a choked sob escaping my lips. Tears streamed, hot and uncontrolled, down my face as a chill that had nothing to do with the night air seeped into my bones, starting at my scalp and freezing me all the way to my toes. I never could have dreamed it. While I was cherishing the new life growing inside me, the husband I adored was plotting with another woman to steal her away. The profound love I thought he felt for me was just a calculated move to protect the woman he truly loved. He only proposed to me to stop me from going after my ex-fiancé, Julian, and disrupting Stella’s newfound happiness. I remember him placing the tiny, shrouded body of an infant in my arms, his voice breaking as he apologized, telling me our child was gone. I thought his heart was breaking with mine. But all along, he had already given our daughter to Stella, a pawn to secure her status in Julian’s wealthy family. What, then, was all my guilt? All my years of silent, gnawing pain? “Mia?” Oscar’s startled voice came from behind me. He saw the tear tracks on my face and rushed toward me, his knee catching the sharp corner of the bedframe. Blood instantly welled, but he ignored it, scrambling to pull me into his arms. “Mia, what’s wrong? What did I do? Did I upset you?” I carefully, deliberately, extracted myself from his embrace. “It’s nothing. I was just watching a movie. The ending was really sad.” Oscar pulled me back against him, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. A light chuckle followed. “You scared me to death. You really need to stop watching those tragedies. We’re not like them. I’m going to make you happy for the rest of your life.” His words used to feel like the sweetest honey. Now, they were just bitter poison. “Your knee is bleeding. I’ll get the first-aid kit and some milk.” Oscar never slept well. I’d read somewhere that warm milk helps, so no matter how late he worked, I always got up to heat a glass for him. “Okay. You’re the best, Mia. From now on, only comedies, alright? Hearing you laugh is the only thing that makes my life feel meaningful.” As I stood, another tear escaped and traced a cold path down my cheek. So, love could be faked. It could be a performance. And I was the fool who had been applauding in the front row for six years, never once seeing through the act. I quietly dissolved a small piece of a sleeping pill into his milk. After he drank it, Oscar fell into a deep, untroubled sleep. As I began searching for any other evidence, his phone, left on the nightstand, began to vibrate violently, the screen flashing with an insistent light. I’d always known he had special, high-priority alerts set up. He’d always said they were for his colleagues at the hospital, that he couldn’t risk missing an emergency call, a patient in need. But now, a cold certainty settled in my heart. I used his thumb to unlock the phone. Just as I suspected, a new voice message from Stella. I pressed play. It wasn’t her voice, but the high, lilting lisp of a little girl. “Daddy, Mommy wanted me to tell you that she loves the dove’s-egg diamond necklace you gave her!” My hand clenched around the phone, my entire body trembling. That voice… was that my daughter? Forcing myself to remain calm, I started scrolling through their chat history. The more I read, the colder I became. After Stella and Julian humiliated me at my own wedding, I cut off all contact with them. I’d only heard vaguely that after Stella discovered she was pregnant, Julian had sent her to the States to rest and be cared for. He was too busy with work to be with her constantly, but they’d filled social media with their long-distance romance until she returned home after the baby was born. During those same months, while I was wasting away from grief, so thin I looked like a skeleton, so lost in my pain I didn’t want to be a burden on Oscar, he was using “business trips” as an excuse to fly to America. To visit Stella. Oscar was a surgeon. I always believed his hands were for holding scalpels, for healing, for saving lives. I never let him touch a dish or a piece of laundry. But in the photos on his phone, there he was, wearing an apron, clumsily but earnestly simmering soup for Stella, not even flinching when he burned his fingers. He cooked for her. Did her laundry. Walked with her and the baby under the warm glow of a setting sun. In one photo, Stella’s head rested on his shoulder. They looked like a perfect, happy family. There were countless photos and videos like this, an unbroken chain of conversation stretching back six years. Not a single day was missed. And Oscar always, always replied instantly. No wonder he never let his phone out of his sight, even taking it into the shower. It wasn’t just to hide it from me. It was so he’d never miss a message from her. I had dreamed a thousand times of watching my child grow, step by step. I just never imagined I’d be watching as an outsider, a ghost in her life. And then I saw it. The message from Oscar that shattered what was left of my world. “Stella, Mia just delivered the baby. I’ll bring her to you soon. You can be a mother now.” Then what about me? I can never be a mother again. Wiping the tears from my face, I called my friend, a lawyer. “I need a divorce agreement. Get it ready for me by tomorrow.” “And that translator job you mentioned to me a while back? I’ll take it. I’ll be in France in five days to start.” Oscar, since you love Stella so much, I’ll grant you your wish. The next morning, Oscar woke up, mumbling about how quickly he’d fallen asleep. He nuzzled my neck affectionately. “Mia, I’m sorry. I’ve just been so tired lately. I didn’t mean to pass out on you.” “I’m heading to work,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Tonight, we’ll go to Mom’s birthday dinner, and when we get back, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He used to say things like that, and I’d blush and playfully call him shameless. Now, after seeing the torrent of affection and sweet nothings he poured out for Stella, his words just made me feel sick. After Oscar left, I went to the law firm. As I walked out with the divorce papers in my hand, my friend’s words echoed in my mind. “Getting your daughter back won’t be easy, Mia. She’s legally registered as Julian and Stella’s child. They’re her legal guardians.” “You’ll need a DNA test, either from you or Oscar. And even then, it will come down to whether the child wants to go with you.” I never even saw my baby after the accident. I had nothing of hers to use for a DNA test. My only option was Oscar. When I arrived at the hospital, the nurse at the front desk gave me a dismissive look. “Dr. Chen isn’t here. He’s downstairs on the playground with his wife and daughter.” “His… wife?” “Yeah. We’ve all seen her. She’s gorgeous, and her figure is incredible. They make a perfect couple.” A few other young nurses overheard and swarmed around, their faces alight with gossip. “Totally! His wife is always decked out in designer clothes, the limited-edition stuff. I heard Dr. Chen buys it all for her. The other day, I saw him give her a pink diamond the size of a dove’s egg. He spoils her rotten. I’m so jealous.” “The wife is stunning, and their daughter is adorable, like a little porcelain doll. How is anyone else supposed to compete with a family that perfect?” One of them finally turned to me, her eyes sweeping over my simple clothes with disdain. “And who are you, anyway? Don’t tell me you’ve got ideas about our Dr. Chen. I’ve seen plenty of delusional female patients like you. Do yourself a favor and take a good look in the mirror. He and his wife are deeply in love.” Their contemptuous stares made me feel small. I nervously tugged at the hem of my shirt, a bitter taste rising in my throat. Oscar rarely let me come to his hospital. And when I did, he never introduced me as his wife. He said the nurses were gossips who loved to stir up trouble, and he didn’t want me to be the subject of their talk. He never bought me designer labels or massive diamonds either. He said such things were too flashy, that they didn’t suit the pure, simple image I held in his heart. All excuses. I saw that now. I found him on the ground floor. Stella was standing beside him, her arm linked through his, as they watched the children playing in the hospital’s private playground. “Oscar,” Stella murmured, “are you sure Julian doesn’t suspect anything?” “He doesn’t. Ever since we had Lily, he’s been even more devoted to me. He treats me like a queen, buys me anything I want. He holds me tight when we sleep and calls me his treasure. He kisses me when he leaves for work and when he comes home… He’s nothing like the ruthless CEO everyone thinks he is. Oscar… thank you. For everything.” Oscar was silent for a moment, then a sour, pained smile touched his lips. “As long as you’re happy, I’d do anything.” Just then, a little girl in a frilly princess dress came running toward them, launching herself into Oscar’s arms. “Daddy! Mommy! I’m hungry!” She tilted her head, her bright, curious eyes landing on me. “Huh? Who’s this lady?” Only then did Oscar notice I was there. He quickly handed Lily to Stella, his expression a mask of awkwardness. “Mia! What are you doing here?” “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he stammered. “This is Stella’s daughter. I… I just thought she was so cute, I became her godfather.” Stella offered me a saccharine smile, her eyes gleaming with unconcealed triumph. “That’s right, Mia. Lily’s still little, she doesn’t quite understand the ‘godfather’ thing, so she just calls him Daddy. Please don’t be upset.” It was the same condescending expression, the same false sweetness she’d used at my wedding, all those years ago. She had stood there, clinging to Julian’s arm, saying the exact same thing: “Mia, Julian just loves me so much. Please don’t be upset.” Rage boiled up inside me. I raised my hand to slap her, but two hands shot out and grabbed my wrist. Oscar’s and Julian’s. Both of them, shielding Stella. That was the day Oscar had proposed to me in front of everyone, turning my day of humiliation into a wedding. But he didn’t love me. He just couldn’t stand the thought of me causing a scene and embarrassing Stella. Oscar pulled me away, making sure there was a safe distance between me and Stella and Lily. “Mia, is something wrong?” I tore my gaze away from Lily, my heart aching. “No… I just wanted to ask you what we should get your mom for her birthday tonight.” “Oh, is that all?” He sounded relieved. “Whatever you think is best, Mia. You always have the best taste.” He noticed the folder in my hand. “What’s that?” I took a breath. “Oscar, I need to talk to you. I want to… Can you give me L—” “Oscar, my stomach hurts,” Stella called out, cutting me off. “Can you come hold Lily for me?” Oscar didn’t hesitate. He rushed back to her side. “I told you not to drink that iced tea. It’s your time of the month, why can’t you listen, you big baby?” He glanced back at me over his shoulder. “Mia, you head home first. I’ll take care of Stella, it’s not easy for her with the kid. We’ll see you at the hotel tonight.” Of course. He remembered everything about Stella. That evening, I had just arrived at the hotel when Oscar walked in with Stella and Lily in tow.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393442”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel