Author: Momo Chan

In my previous life, my husband, Arthur Vance, was sixty-two when he was diagnosed with late-stage Alzheimer’s. He transformed from a refined, cultured intellectual into a disheveled old man, prone to outbursts, prone to violent rages, yelling vile obscenities at me. At those times, only a photograph of his first love could calm him. So, our daughter, Lillian, brought Arthur’s first love, Serena Reed, home, telling me to care for her. “Dad only recognizes Aunt Serena now. Just think of it as helping him get better. They’re both so old, what could possibly happen between them?” For Arthur’s sake, I agreed. I served them, fetching their meals, cleaning up after them, bustling about like a live-in housekeeper. I endured this life for three long years, only to be told I had terminal liver cancer. I writhed in agony on my sickbed, but Lillian, busy with work, never once came to visit. In my final moments, I dragged myself home. There, I saw my grandson, Benjamin, holding a cake, shouting to Arthur’s first love, “Happy birthday, Grandma Serena!” And in the place of honor, Arthur’s eyes were clear, his gaze on Serena filled with profound adoration. He said, “I’ll marry you once Elara is gone. She’s had me for all these years, I owe her nothing. The rest of my life, I only want to make it up to you.” There was no Alzheimer’s. It was all a cruel deception, and I was merely their unwitting accomplice, their live-in maid. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lillian brought Serena home for a grand welcome dinner. 1 On the spinning lazy Susan, five large crabs lay piled. By the time it reached my spot, they were gone. My husband, Arthur, wore an unnatural smile, his movements clumsy as he meticulously shelled a crab for Serena. My daughter, Lillian, solicitously introduced the restaurant’s signature dishes to Serena, asking if she wished for anything else. From start to finish, no one noticed the empty plate before me. No one asked what I wanted to eat. This feeling of being overlooked, of being treated as invisible, I had experienced it countless times in my previous life. Arthur and I had been married for forty years. When he was sixty-two, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I dedicated myself to caring for him, yet he frequently left me bruised and battered. My eyes were perpetually shadowed, my face swollen, the backs of my hands covered in scratches. Arthur’s hateful words during his fits of rage were like stale garbage, reeking of putrefaction. One of Alzheimer’s symptoms is memory loss. Simply put, Arthur forgot me. It was only by showing him a photograph of his first love that I could avoid his wrath. How ironic. My husband, afflicted with a disease, forgot me, his wife, but remembered another woman. Lillian suggested bringing Arthur’s first love, Serena Reed, home, ostensibly to aid his recovery. So, I found myself caring for the ailing Arthur while also serving the perfectly healthy Serena. During the most grueling period, I wasted away from a hundred and twenty pounds to a mere ninety. If I dared to complain about the hardship, Lillian would point to Arthur, who was eerily calm around Serena, and retort, “Why doesn’t Dad cry or make a fuss when Aunt Serena is around? Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough?” I endured that life for three agonizing years, through over a thousand days and nights. In the end, I withered away from disease, from terminal liver cancer, beyond all medical help. “Mom, what are you spacing out for? Hurry up and bring the dishes!” Lillian’s voice snapped me out of my memories. I looked up. The embarrassed waiter stood beside me, tray in hand, quickly saying there was no need. Lillian, however, waved him off with a dismissive air, grandly pointing at me. “She sits by the door so it’s easy for her to serve the dishes. It’s always been that way.” She then turned her gaze back to me. “Mom, hurry up! The waiter’s arms must be tired.” Suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Their expressions were normal, none of them seemed to find anything wrong with Lillian’s words. I remembered how, in my previous life, when Serena first came to live with us, Lillian’s family had not only thrown a welcome dinner but also arranged a family vacation for Serena. I had spent an entire night packing luggage for everyone. But when it was time to board the train, the tour guide informed us. Lillian had purchased five tickets, and all the activities were for five people. But there were six of us, and it was too late to buy an additional ticket. The group discussed it, and finally, they told me, “Mom, we’re going to the beach this time. It’s not good for your joints. You should stay home.” I, along with my packed luggage, was left standing at the train station entrance. This wasn’t an isolated incident. I was always the one left behind. The waiter placed a soup tureen on the lazy Susan and discreetly withdrew. Lillian, still annoyed by my earlier reaction, pressed on. “Mom, what’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you serve the dishes when I told you to? You’re sitting by the door precisely for that reason.” Without a word, I filled my small bowl with soup and flung it, with deliberate aim, at Lillian. 2 The scalding soup made Lillian shriek. She sprang to her feet, frantically shaking her clothes. “What are you doing! Are you insane?!” Everyone was stunned by the scene, staring at me in disbelief. I calmly sat back down, watching her hysterical reaction. “I’m educating a disloyal daughter. What’s the matter?” Lillian started to retort, but my son-in-law tugged her arm, making her sit. Serena spoke, her voice laced with disapproval. “Elara, there’s no need for such clear boundaries between family. Why quarrel with a child?” Arthur, who had been eerily quiet, suddenly began to hurl rice at me. It splattered all over me, the soup-soaked grains leaving ugly stains on my clothes. One, two, three times. I abruptly stood up, dumped the remaining rice into the hot soup, and placed the tureen directly in front of Arthur. “You like playing, don’t you? Play with this. It’s even more fun with water.” Arthur’s motion to throw something else visibly froze, his eyes wide with fear. The atmosphere grew silent once more. Serena immediately shielded Arthur. “Elara, that soup is scalding! What if you scalded Arthur?” Lillian pushed me away, clearly terrified I might do something else. “Yes, Mom! You scared Dad!” I looked impassively at Arthur’s feigned dementia. In truth, his acting was terrible. Yet, in my previous life, how had I been fooled for so long? “His condition fluctuates. The medication he’s on must not be effective. I’ll make an appointment with the chief physician at the city’s top hospital to get him re-evaluated.” “I object!” Lillian blurted out without thinking. “Dad’s already so old. Constantly moving him around for different doctors isn’t good for his health.” “I’ve made my decision. No one’s objection will change it.” I looked at my panicked daughter, at the subtly uneasy Serena, and at Arthur, who was still feigning confusion beside her. So, they were afraid. After Arthur was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I had resolved to care for him for the rest of my life. Even when he lashed out with fists and feet, I never flinched. I saw him as my responsibility. But it was only at the last moment of my life that I discovered it had all been a lie. I was the sole prey in their cruel game. My daughter, Lillian, knew everything, yet shamelessly helped them deceive me. Only I remained in the dark, living tirelessly for their benefit, like a mere servant. This time, I’d watch them struggle to keep up their act! The welcome dinner ended in disarray. Back at home, Lillian poured water for Serena, then for Arthur, but none for me. She glanced towards the guest room. “Mom, what’s going on? Didn’t I tell you to clean it earlier? Aunt Serena is moving in today.” I replied, my voice cool. “Whoever invited her cleans it. Lillian, I am not a housekeeper.” Lillian choked on her words. Beside her, Serena offered a serene smile. “Lillian, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t look dirty at all. It’s perfectly habitable.” I patted my knees and stood up, offering Lillian a smirk. “See? It’s perfectly habitable. You’re just making a mountain out of a molehill.” I turned and walked into the master bedroom. This small, eighty-eight-square-meter apartment was assigned to me by the factory where I worked. Arthur’s university had allotted him a much larger apartment, which he had instead given to Serena. Our old apartment had three rooms. Arthur and I each had one, and the third was a guest room. In my previous life, when Serena moved in, Lillian had demanded I clean the master bedroom thoroughly. I had complied. But Serena insisted the bed frame be dismantled and washed piece by piece. The cabinets had to be wiped with a damp cloth, then again with a dry one. The new curtains, the drinking glasses, the bathmat by the bathroom door—if anything wasn’t to her liking, it had to be replaced. I cleaned and cleaned, again and again, yet no one ever asked if I was tired. The next day, I was woken by the sounds of crashing. Arthur, in a “fit,” had thrown pots and pans all over the kitchen. Dark liquid splattered the walls, and the smell of soy sauce permeated the air. The entire living room was almost impassable. Serena, standing in the only clean corner, looked at me, her gaze pleading. “Elara, Arthur is having a fit. I can’t control him… I’ll take him to Lillian’s house later. Can you clean up the apartment?” In my previous life, I would have rushed forward to soothe Arthur and calm his “fit.” But now, I calmly watched Arthur’s performance, making no move. “The cleaning service’s number is on the table. If you’re not too busy, just call them. They’ll be here soon.” I refused without hesitation and went to the bathroom to wash up. When I emerged, Arthur and Serena had already left, leaving behind a chaotic mess. I was unconcerned. I grabbed my bag and left, heading straight for the hospital. In my previous life, during Arthur’s third year of feigned illness, I had collapsed at home from severe back pain. After being rushed to the hospital, I was told I had terminal liver cancer and only a month left to live. Now, reborn, how could I allow my body to deteriorate like that again? After receiving my lab results, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only mild hepatitis. This time, I would not die such a miserable death as I had in my previous life. 3 Lillian called me over a dozen times. I didn’t answer. After leaving the hospital, I immediately rushed to another location, to find a suitable place for Arthur’s future. As dusk settled, I returned home. The once chaotic living room was spotless, the air filled with a fresh lemon scent. That saying was indeed true: housework is always the job of those who can’t stand the mess. Arthur sat on the sofa, holding Benjamin, watching television. Lillian, peeling peanuts for Serena, laughed and chatted animatedly. A perfect picture of a happy, harmonious family. I averted my gaze and calmly walked towards my bedroom. Lillian called out to me, her tone displeased. “Mom, I called you so many times, why didn’t you answer? You ran out without even cleaning up the house. What old woman is as idle as you?” She then added, “Serena and I took Dad for a check-up today. The report is here. The doctor said all of Dad’s changes are normal; it’s just how the disease is. You just need to have more patience.” I glanced at the medical report. The doctor’s signature at the bottom made it look legitimate. If I hadn’t already known their deception from my previous life, I might not have been able to tell the truth from the lie. I threw the report onto the table. “Ignoring a top-tier hospital, dragging your father around to various clinics—what were you thinking?” Before Lillian could speak, I pushed open my bedroom door and entered. I instinctively glanced at the wardrobe, noticing that it had clearly been disturbed. My heart sank. Something was missing. I stormed out of the room and confronted Arthur. “Give me back what you took!” “Mom, what are you doing? Benny wants to watch TV. Get out of the way!” Lillian frowned, yelling loudly. I ignored her, my gaze fixed on Arthur and Serena. In my previous life, when I was gravely ill and immobile, Serena wore my lost family heirloom, claiming it was her own family treasure. She became an online sensation through it, scamming people out of huge sums of money. I had pointed to the pin, insisting it was mine. But no one believed me. I knew Arthur had taken it; he had given it to Serena. The first thing I did after being reborn was contact a local historical society. Tomorrow was our scheduled meeting. But I never imagined they would act so quickly. I forced myself to remain calm. “Arthur Vance, give me back my property, or I’ll call the police right now.” Arthur clutched his ears, hiding behind Serena, muttering incoherently. “Tiger woman hitting people! Tiger woman hitting people!” Anyone could see he was terrified of me. Serena, her eyes filled with feigned concern, hugged him tightly. Lillian, meanwhile, glared at me, infuriated. “Mom, is this how you usually treat Dad? Look how scared you’ve made him!” “Shut up!” I roared, unable to contain myself. Lillian stared at me, stunned. “Arthur Vance!” I yelled. “I’m not joking with you. If you don’t give it back, I’ll call the police immediately!” Serena’s heavily made-up face visibly paled. “Elara, let’s not involve the police before we understand the situation, alright?” I pulled out my phone and, right in front of them, dialed the emergency number. But before the call connected, a sharp pain shot through my forehead. Blood blurred my phone screen, and the glass I had been holding shattered on the floor. I clutched my head and stumbled to the ground, vaguely seeing Arthur’s motion as he threw the glass. Lillian, clutching Benjamin, hid to the side, shouting from a distance, “Mom, Mom, are you alright?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392875”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Daniel, desperate to escape with me, had agreed to have children with his childhood sweetheart, Serena, to secure his family’s lineage. After their first son, Leo, was born, he claimed the boy was too young to be without a father and asked me to wait until Leo turned three. Three years passed. Then he announced his family wanted a daughter, to complete their legacy, and begged for a little more time. I waited and waited, through 1,460 sunrises and sunsets over Mount Cinderpeak. Just when I thought we could finally leave, I found myself unexpectedly pregnant with his child. I stood before Daniel, my hiking pack slung over my shoulder, the ultrasound report clutched in my hand. But he held Serena close, his voice strained with feigned reluctance. “Grandfather and Grandmother want a third grandchild, Elara. Can’t you just wait a little longer?” The very next day, a searing pain tore through my abdomen, and I tumbled down the stairs, miscarrying his child. In the fading moments of my consciousness, Daniel loomed over me, his gaze chillingly distant. “Elara,” he said, his voice flat, “you shouldn’t have gotten pregnant with my child.” Tears streamed down my face, my heart turning to stone. It was time to leave, and this time, alone. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Caldwell heir’s gold-digging mistress, the one who just wouldn’t leave,” a voice sneered. “Can you believe she actually dared to get pregnant? As if the Caldwells would ever let her carry a child.” “Look at her now, karma’s a bitch, isn’t it? The Caldwells specifically instructed the staff during the procedure—no pain relief. They wanted it to be unforgettable.” “Her womb’s been ravaged. Let’s see her try to carry any child after that. Just serves her right.” My eyes fluttered open. I tried to push myself up, but a searing, drilling pain shot through my abdomen. At my gasp of pain, the two nurses by the bed instantly fell silent, but the disdain in their eyes remained starkly visible. Thankfully, I’d grown accustomed to their stinging gazes. I turned my head, my voice raspy. “How long can I stay here?” The plumper nurse’s tone was thick with barely concealed mockery: “Miss Elara, you’re free to check out now. But of course, you can stay as long as you wish. We’ll be delighted to serve you.” With a dismissive sniff, she pulled the other nurse away, their snickering whispers echoing down the hall. “Oh, look at her, all red-eyed and playing the victim. Who’s she trying to impress? Daniel Caldwell? Please. He didn’t even show up when she was miscarrying. What makes her think he’d come now? She must be completely delusional.” I lowered my gaze, my hand drifting to my once again flat abdomen. A bitter smile touched my lips. They had it all wrong. I wasn’t waiting for Daniel. I was just trying to avoid these next few days. These were the days of Serena’s ovulation cycle. Every month, during this time, they became inseparable, flaunting their passion as if no one else existed. Each time, their unrestrained murmurs of affection felt like a thousand knives twisting in my gut, leaving me hollowed out and bleeding. Yet, I was forbidden from saying a word. Sure enough, ten days later, when I pushed open the front door, my face pale and my body weak, they were on the sofa, locked in a post-coital embrace. Daniel was still lingering, kissing her neck, his hand restlessly exploring. It was Serena who noticed me first. She feigned a coy retreat, nestling deeper into him with a playful whimper. “Wait, Daniel,” she purred, “the pregnancy test results should be ready, shouldn’t they?” She picked up the test stick from the table, her eyes widening, then she practically bounced with glee. “Two lines! I’m pregnant with our third!” Then she pouted, a delicate tap to Daniel’s chest. “Oh no, you were so rough just now! What if you hurt our little ‘Three’? You big meanie!” Daniel pulled her into a doting embrace, his hand tenderly caressing Serena’s still-flat stomach. “Never,” he murmured, his eyes full of affection. “Daddy will be gentle from now on. We wouldn’t want to scare little ‘Three,’ would we?” His gaze was brimming with the joy and tenderness of a man about to become a father once more. A stark contrast to the chilling indifference in his eyes when he’d learned I was pregnant. Even though I’d known what to expect, my heart still twisted with a sharp, familiar pang. Finally, Daniel noticed me standing frozen in the doorway. He stiffened, instinctively putting a subtle distance between himself and Serena. His voice softened, tinged with a carefully constructed apology and regret. “Elara, you heard? We… we had no choice. Grandfather says the Caldwell Group’s affairs are too vast, and two children simply aren’t enough to secure its future. A third heir is needed for stability.” “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have put Serena through this, especially right after her second postpartum period, to try for another.” He reached out, tenderly brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Serena’s forehead, completely oblivious to my ashen face. Serena, her cheeks flushed, buried herself in his arms, playfully chiding, “It’s fine, Daniel. I quite enjoyed it, actually. I loved it.” Watching them ready to melt into another display of affection, a tidal wave of bitter resentment surged within me. I placed a hand on my still-empty belly, cutting through their moment. “Then why wasn’t my child enough?” Daniel’s gaze immediately clouded with a complex mix of emotions, his brow furrowing. “Elara, what are you talking about?” I offered a mirthless laugh, pushing the question again. “Daniel Caldwell, wasn’t my child, our child, a valid heir to the Caldwell family name?” Before he could answer, a toy car inexplicably flew from upstairs, striking me squarely on the forehead. An angry, childish voice immediately followed. “No! No! You vixen! Anything you have would be a mongrel! You’re not allowed to steal our family’s money!” I reeled back a few steps, stumbling. Just as I managed to regain my footing, a small boy, running at full speed, slammed directly into me, sending me sprawling. 2 It was Leo, Daniel and Serena’s three-year-old eldest son. “Bitch! Bitch! How dare you come back! I won’t let you set foot in my house again! Get out!” He started pummeling my midsection with his tiny fists. My womb, already ravaged by the brutal medical procedure, throbbed with agony at even the slightest touch. I clutched my stomach, trembling uncontrollably. Daniel, seeing the beads of cold sweat rolling down my forehead, quickly pulled his son away. “Leo, how dare you speak to Aunt Elara like that? Apologize!” But the hand he’d raised was caught by Serena. She stepped between us, her lips trembling in a wounded pout. “Daniel, why are you so harsh on the child? Have you forgotten what you promised me?” “Besides, how strong can a little child be…?” Serena trailed off, casting a glance of pure disgust at me. The tenderness in Daniel’s expression slowly faded, replaced by disappointment. He turned to me, his voice tinged with weary resignation. “Elara, you’re an adult. Why are you making such a fuss over a child, and putting on a show?” “And besides, you were the one who spoke out of turn. Don’t do it again.” I bit down on my trembling lip. Seeing that I had no intention of backing down, Daniel’s face hardened. He pushed me towards the nursery. “Alright, alright, Elara, go look after Lily.” “You’ve been her caregiver since birth. She’s closer to you than to Serena. When she cries, no one else can soothe her; it’s exhausting.” I met his gaze stubbornly, wrenching my arm free. “Daniel Caldwell, I told you I’m not doing this anymore. I am not your nanny.” As if on cue, Mrs. Jenkins, the Caldwell family’s elderly housekeeper, rushed out, a whirlwind of disapproval, and forcibly thrust Daniel’s newborn daughter, Lily, into my arms. “Elara? Oh, thank goodness you’re back! Just a little miscarriage, why did you have to stay in the hospital for so long? So delicate!” “Go on, go on, take her! My old bones have been worn to dust these past few days. Alright, she’s back with her rightful owner. You take care of her properly now, hear?” Then, she herded Daniel, Serena, and Leo towards the door. “Mr. Caldwell, Miss Montgomery, what are you dawdling for? Haven’t you forgotten you’re taking Leo to the family estate for dinner tonight? Look at the time! Come on, move it!” I made to hand the baby back, but Mrs. Jenkins, solid as a brick wall, blocked my path, ushering Daniel away. Her eyebrows shot up, forming sharp, menacing angles like twin blades. “What do you think you’re doing?! In my day, you’d be nothing but a common servant! Do you really think a few nights in bed with the master makes you the lady of the house? Know your place!” A disgusted “Pah!” escaped her lips, and the door slammed shut with a resounding thud, the sound echoing the finality of her contempt. Only the baby’s deafening cries remained, threatening to shatter my eardrums, my very heart. I stared blankly at the child in my arms, utterly bewildered by how my life had spiraled into this. My unfocused gaze suddenly settled on the expansive photo wall in the living room. Only then did I realize that, at some point I couldn’t pinpoint, the candid photos of Daniel and me hiking through snow-capped mountains, the scenic shots of our adventures, had slowly, systematically been replaced by family portraits of him, Serena, and their son. There was no trace of me left. Only a single, small photograph of a mountain remained. It was Mount Cinderpeak, the place where Daniel and I had fallen in love, and where our wedding was supposed to have been. The night before we were to leave, Daniel’s grandparents, disgusted by my common background, demanded he marry Miss Serena Montgomery instead. Daniel had stormed out of the house, already with me in Willow Creek, ready to venture into the mountains. But a frantic call from the hospital’s ICU unit pulled him back. When he reappeared before me, his face was shadowed by stubble, his eyes bloodshot. He collapsed to his knees, a raw sound escaping him. “Elara, I’m so sorry,” he choked out. “Grandfather and Grandmother raised me since childhood. I can’t let them… I can’t let them die, but I can’t lose you either!” “I… I made a deal. If I just have one grandchild with Serena, they’ll let me go. They’ll set me free.” “Elara, please, don’t be angry, don’t leave me. Serena is just… a means to an end. You’re the one I truly love! Please, just endure this for ten months, okay?” The first time, Daniel cried into my shoulder, then abruptly pulled away at the last moment, stumbling into Serena’s room. He was back in mine within a minute. The second time, he inexplicably stayed half an hour longer. The third time, he stayed the night. The fourth, the fifth… I withered, waiting in my room until dawn, but he never returned. I waited for their first child, then their second, waited through 1,460 sunrises and sunsets over Mount Cinderpeak. But Daniel and Serena only grew closer, more and more like a real couple. And I became their housekeeper and nanny. It wasn’t that I hadn’t cried, hadn’t argued, hadn’t pleaded. Daniel would always soothe me, only to drift back to Serena’s side moments later. Now, their third child was on the way. I should have seen it clearly by now. It was time to leave. I sat there, utterly lost, until late into the night. Finally, Daniel’s family returned, their laughter echoing through the hall. The moment they opened the door, they froze. 3 His daughter lay on the sofa where I’d left her, cried out, and utterly weak. The photographs from the wall lay shredded into a million pieces. “Elara Reynolds! Didn’t I tell you to look after my daughter? Why isn’t she making a sound?! Are you trying to kill her?!” Daniel lunged, his hand closing around my throat, his face twisted into a mask of fury. Serena anxiously scooped up the child and thrust her directly into my arms. “Elara Reynolds! Just because you lost your baby, you can’t take it out on my daughter!” “Now, go back and feed her and change her diaper!” I remained impassive, even managing a faint smile. “I’ve told you already. I’m not your nanny anymore. Don’t you understand?” Serena flinched, then stomped her foot in exasperation, tears welling in her eyes and trickling down her cheeks. “Daniel, look at her! I told you she resented me! Do you know how hard these past few years have been for me? Bearing three children without a title, just to fulfill your love story!” “And in the end, I’m the villain!” Daniel’s jaw tightened, and he instantly intensified his grip on my throat, his eyes blazing with savage rage. “Elara Reynolds, a woman giving birth is like stepping into the gates of hell! Serena has done it twice, and now she’s about to do it a third time—all for you!” But if he’d just open his eyes, he’d see that Serena, whom he claimed had walked through hell’s gates twice, was still slender and graceful, like a young girl. While I, on the other hand, resembled a candle flickering to its end, dark circles stretching from beneath my eyes to the corners of my mouth, all from three months of sleepless nights, tending to her daughter’s every need. And besides, I was never the one who demanded he have children. What right did he have?! My expression, like my heart, was a stagnant pool. But Daniel mistook it for defiance and grew even angrier. “Can’t you just be reasonable for once?! My grandparents’ opinion of you only improved because you took good care of Leo and Lily! Our plan was so close to success, and now this?! What are you trying to do?!” “Don’t you want to go to Mount Cinderpeak with me anymore?!” That same old threat. The last vestige of love in my heart finally dissolved, drifting away like smoke. I forced back the tears that my constricted throat was forcing out, and spoke, my voice calm, almost serene. “No, Daniel. I don’t want to go with you anymore.” Daniel’s body stiffened, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. Ignoring Serena’s furious shouts behind him, he scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom. He dropped me onto the bed, then paced the room, a frantic bundle of nervous energy. He fired off questions like a rapid-fire cannon. “Elara Reynolds, what do you mean you don’t want to go to Mount Cinderpeak anymore? Are you abandoning me?” His voice softened only after he saw the angry red marks of his fingers branding my neck. “Elara, what’s gotten into you lately? Is it because of the miscarriage?” “Is it… is it because taking care of Serena’s children has been too much?” “Or is it because I’ve been spending too much time with Serena? Are you angry?” I sat calmly on the bed, my heart overflowing with a bitter realization. Daniel, it seemed, had known everything all along. When I remained silent, Daniel reluctantly reined in his surging frustration. He knelt before me, his expression earnest. “Elara, please, let me explain. First, your baby being… gone, it really is for the best. If you had carried it to term, the Montgomerys would never have agreed. It would have caused so much trouble.” “And asking you to care for the children… it was because you already had experience with Leo, you were so good with him. Serena just isn’t comfortable with strangers in the house, and she only trusts you.” “Serena just had the baby, her body’s still weak. Of course, I need to look after her more.” I watched him speak, my heart chillingly aware of the pervasive sorrow blossoming within me. Perhaps Daniel himself didn’t realize that even as he tried to placate me, every word he uttered still prioritized Serena. My bitter smile, in Daniel’s eyes, was misinterpreted as a sign of capitulation. His eyes lit up. He raised three fingers, repeating the same tired promise. “Elara, just wait a little longer. I, Daniel Caldwell, swear to you, the moment this third child is born, we’ll run away together. No more delays!” Fearing I wouldn’t believe him, he pulled out his phone and immediately booked plane tickets for a year and a half from now. I glanced at the screen, a sardonic question on my lips. “Why a year and a half from now?” Daniel’s brow furrowed, his voice tinged with a hint of reproach. “Elara, I at least have to wait until Serena finishes her postpartum recovery, don’t I? Don’t be so heartless.” The air in the room grew heavy, thick with unspoken words. After a long silence, he sighed, as if conceding defeat, and reluctantly changed the tickets. “Fine, fine! I’ll change it to the day of the due date. The moment the third child is born, I’ll leave with you. Is that good enough?!” His phone buzzed then, a call from Grandfather Caldwell. Our eyes met, and Daniel’s flashed with an inexplicable guilt. I snatched the phone, my fingers swift as lightning, and answered. Grandfather Caldwell’s words, spoken without preamble, utterly blindsided me. “Daniel, I’ve discussed it with the Montgomerys. You and Serena are to register your marriage tomorrow. Don’t want that vixen charming you away again.” 4 “Hello? Did you hear me?!” Daniel frantically tried to cut in. “Grandfather, I’ll talk to you later.” Daniel and Serena were getting married?! The revelation struck me like a lightning bolt. My heart, already numb from countless stabs, still betrayed me, tears shamelessly spilling at the news. “Elara, listen to me,” Daniel stammered, fumbling to wipe away my tears. “Serena and I are just registering our marriage. It means nothing else, don’t overthink this!” I quietly turned my head, pulling away from his desperate attempts. He rushed to explain. “Think about it, Elara. Serena’s carried three of my children. I at least owe her some kind of recognition, don’t I? Even if it’s just for appearances, I can’t let my children be illegitimate, can I?” “Please, just be reasonable, Elara Reynolds.” Reasonable! Always reasonable! I couldn’t take it anymore. I seized a pillow and began pummeling Daniel, a furious onslaught of blows. “You’re marrying Serena, so what does that make me?! The persistent mistress? The gold-digging whore? Or the shameless vixen they all call me?!” “Daniel Caldwell, do you even know what people say about me?!” Before I could finish, the air around Daniel seemed to drop several degrees, thick with his simmering fury. He unleashed a vicious slap across my face. “Elara Reynolds, snap out of it! Do you have any idea what I’ve sacrificed to be with you?!” “My grandparents were almost driven to their graves by me! Can’t you stop being so selfish?!” “Know your place, Elara Reynolds!” I was knocked sideways onto the bed, my mouth instantly filling with the metallic tang of blood. It felt like a cruel jest, mocking my three years of foolish longing. “Daniel Caldwell,” I said, my voice eerily calm, “I know my place now. I’m going to Mount Cinderpeak tonight.” “Elara Reynolds! How can you go when you just miscarried?!” Daniel called after me, but I ignored him, storming into the study. The scene inside made me freeze. My hiking pack, carefully prepared just days ago, was shredded into tattered rags, its contents scattered across the floor. Daniel’s son was clearly the culprit, brandishing a half-broken trekking pole as he raced around the room. “Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! I’m a helicopter! I’m the strongest helicopter!” In his other hand, he clutched a small object. I let out a choked scream. “Give that back to me!” Daniel’s son grinned, a triumphant smirk on his face, and stomped his foot down, crushing the object to bits! “No!” I went berserk. I shoved Daniel’s son to the ground, then collapsed to my knees myself with a thud. With trembling hands, I gathered the shattered pieces, holding them up directly to Daniel’s face, a desperate, broken sob tearing through me. “Daniel Caldwell! This was my mother’s voice recorder! Her only possession she left for me!” “Why are you, your whole family, doing this to me?!” Daniel averted his gaze. He knew. He knew the reason I was so obsessed with trekking was because my mother had been a passionate hiker. Every time she summitted a snow-capped peak, every time she witnessed a breathtaking landscape, she would use that voice recorder to capture her thoughts in that moment, leaving them for me. In the years since her passing, I had endured by constantly visiting the places she’d trekked, listening to those fragments of her voice. But now, there was nothing. My very soul felt as though it had shattered along with it. A thousand emotions—grief, fury, despair—choked in my throat, unable to form words, dissolving into a numb, repeated whisper. “It’s all gone, all gone. I have nothing left, Daniel!” Daniel babbled incoherently, trying to soothe me. “Elara, what’s done is done. Please don’t cry, don’t cry. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392874”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The day before my wedding, my best friend, Celeste Rivers, ran over and killed my mother. My fiancé didn’t just stand by; he flaunted his marriage certificate with her. I dragged Celeste to court, disrupting their wedding to demand she pay for her crime, only to be ridiculed by everyone. In my darkest hour, my childhood best friend, Arthur Bennett, publicly proposed to me, swearing he’d be my lifelong anchor. I said yes. I entrusted the entire car accident case to him. He told me Celeste was imprisoned, and I believed him. But three years into our marriage, I accidentally overheard him talking to his lawyer. “Mr. Bennett, was marrying Evelyn Hayes just for a letter of forgiveness? For a mere car accident, why did you have to sacrifice yourself?” “Only by marrying her could I, as a family member, write that letter of forgiveness on Evelyn’s behalf. It was the only way to secure Celeste’s freedom.” “As long as she’s happy overseas, that’s all that matters. As for me… anything is fine.” It turned out the marriage I’d seen as my salvation was nothing but a meticulously crafted deception. That letter of forgiveness, signed with my name, and Celeste’s freedom—those were his true desires. I was the one who needed to leave. In his office, Arthur stared at a photo of Celeste overseas on his computer, a heartbroken, regretful smile playing on his lips. “Three years. Seeing her happy is enough, even if her happiness isn’t something I gave her.” “As for Evelyn… I’ve spent the rest of my life making amends to her. This matter, it’s behind us.” The company’s legal counsel was fuming but utterly powerless against him. “Mr. Bennett, the company has finally started to thrive. How can you joke about a murder case like this? If this gets out to our competitors, not just you, but all of Bennett family’s assets could be forfeit!” “It’s a fact that Miss Rivers committed premeditated murder. Why are you getting mixed up in this mess? She doesn’t even love you!” Arthur’s face hardened, his voice chilling. “Enough. I said not to bring this up again. I don’t believe Celeste intentionally killed her. It must have been an accident. I handled Mrs. Hayes’s funeral arrangements, which was a proper closure for the Hayes family.” “If it means saving her, forget a company, I’d even give my life!” The lawyer grew agitated. “What about Miss Hayes? She’ll find out about this eventually. The moment she goes to visit Celeste in prison, everything you’ve planned will collapse!” “You used her name to free the person who murdered her mother. What will she do then?” Arthur fell silent for a moment, then reached for a cigarette and lit it. “Then she’ll never know. Three years have passed. Celeste should be out of prison soon.” “Go make the arrangements. And remember, don’t let Evelyn find out.” “Mr. Bennett,” the lawyer warned, his voice grave. “As your legal counsel, let me remind you: the long arm of the law misses nothing. What you’ve done will leave its mark. To protect a murderer, at the cost of harming an innocent person… if Miss Hayes ever finds out, you’ll be completely ruined!” Tears streamed down my chin. My body trembled so violently I could barely hold the takeout box. Footsteps drew closer. I quickly scurried into the stairwell, my heart pounding. So, my mother’s fatal car accident had never even been formally investigated. And Celeste, far from being imprisoned to face justice, was living a carefree life overseas. All of it, orchestrated by the husband I loved with all my heart. His humble bowing, his quiet endurance, his every concession—all were for the salvation of the woman he truly loved. For three years, I had lived inside the meticulously woven tapestry of his lies. I thought I was living a fairytale, but it was a living hell. The irony was crushing. I stumbled down the stairs and out of the building, collapsing onto the curb outside the company. 2 I waited for five agonizing hours. The last flicker of light in the building winked out. Finally, his silhouette appeared. The moment he saw me, his expression softened, and he gently took my hand, his voice laced with concern. “Why didn’t you come in? How long have you been waiting?” “Not long, just arrived. I know you’ve been busy lately, so I brought you some homemade porridge. Your assistant said you were in a meeting, so I left.” “Don’t do this again, darling. You’re not well; I’d be heartbroken if you overtired yourself.” With that, he pulled me into his embrace and kissed my forehead. His touch was as tender and affectionate as always. But I felt nothing. His warmth no longer reached me. It was shocking, how far one person would go for another. He guided me into the passenger seat, then casually brought up a topic. “Oh, by the way, Celeste is getting out soon. You two used to be close, and she’s already served her time. Besides, Bennett Holdings has a lot of ongoing projects with the Thorne family now, so maybe—” “It’s fine. It’s all in the past. I won’t go after her. Don’t worry.” He let out a visible sigh of relief, a soft smile touching his lips. “Thank you, my love, for understanding. Having you is truly a blessing.” I turned my head, gazing out at the passing scenery, tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks. Back home, while he showered, I opened his laptop. The password was Celeste’s birthday. The desktop wallpaper was a sweeping view of the Maldives. That’s where Celeste had lived for the past three years. I logged into his social media. His profile’s background image was a photo of him and Celeste. His follower list contained only one person. I clicked on it. My vision was flooded with photos of Celeste and snippets of her life overseas. She wore new jewelry from brands under Bennett Holdings. Her shawl was from Bennett Holdings’ latest campaign. Even the villa she’d tagged was one of Bennett Holdings’ overseas hotel properties. This hotel, I noted, had been established exactly three years ago. It was Bennett’s only international project. My hand trembled as I clicked on his transfer history. The recipient was always Celeste. A million a month, for three years, without fail. I scrolled through each entry, my heart chilling with every passing line. I remembered his social media status, a single, cryptic word. Wait. I’d asked him once what it meant. He’d simply shrugged it off, saying it was something he’d written long ago. But now, I understood. Three years of marriage, and apart from the wedding photo on the wall, we had no other pictures together. No matter how much I cried or pleaded, he’d always say we saw each other every day, so there was no need to capture it. Only now did I realize it wasn’t that there was no need; it was that I was not a necessity to him. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, closing the laptop. I simply bought a plane ticket for three days later, overseas. And applied to cancel all my official documents. Three days to say goodbye to three years. It felt like enough. I set the countdown as my phone wallpaper, a constant reminder. When he emerged from the bathroom, I was already in bed. Assuming I was asleep, he remained silent. I spent the entire night wide awake. At dawn, I got up to freshen up. My phone rang. Arthur’s voice, laced with confusion, followed immediately. “Evelyn, what documents did you cancel?” I quickly snatched my phone, explaining casually, “Nothing much. My ID expired, so I booked an appointment to renew it.” “Don’t you have a project meeting today? Go on, get busy.” He didn’t think much of it, simply pulling me into a tender embrace, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. “Thank you, my love. Marrying a wife as wonderful as you is truly my blessing.” I simply smiled, saying nothing. 3 “As a reward, how about your husband gives you a big gift today?” he purred. “Alright. I’ll be home waiting.” He really pulled out all the stops to keep me from bothering Celeste. This three-year charade, it was time for it to end. The moment he stepped out the door, I went to cancel my documents. After filling out the application, I went to see a lawyer. When I asked about the letter of forgiveness, the lawyer simply stated that a letter of forgiveness from a family member carried legal weight. It was already established and irrevocable. I didn’t ask further, instead asking him to print two copies of a divorce agreement for me. With the agreement in hand, I headed to Arthur’s company. As soon as I entered, I heard employees whispering. “Is that Mrs. Bennett? I heard she just returned from overseas. That aura… no wonder she enchanted Mr. Bennett; even I, a woman, can’t resist it!” “Must be. That bag she’s carrying is a new Hermès, one of only ten worldwide. I’ve seen Mr. Bennett picking out bags a few times; I can’t believe he bought even this for her. So sweet…” “That overseas hotel, it wasn’t built for her, was it? I heard they were childhood sweethearts. Even a rom-com wouldn’t dare write a plot like that!” On the top floor, I stood at the office door. Familiar voices drifted out. “These past three years, you… how have you been?” “Oh, just wonderful. Every day, I wake up to the ocean, and the air is filled with freedom. I haven’t even thanked you properly. If it weren’t for you, I’d have already—” “Don’t say such things. It’s all in the past. I believe you didn’t mean to hurt anyone. My help was also for my own sake.” Celeste’s laughter tinkled like wind chimes. “You, you’re still the same after all these years. If Evelyn ever found out you secretly helped me, she’d surely make a huge scene.” “This bag is too extravagant; I can’t accept it. You should give it to Evelyn instead. I’m afraid if I take it, she’ll sue me again.” Celeste had always been like this: taking every advantage while feigning generosity, blaming me for everything. Three years ago, at the wedding. I had publicly exposed her as a killer, alienating myself from her and Julian Thorne completely. Yet, all the guests present had sided with her, accusing me of being unreasonable. I had become a laughingstock. Arthur’s appearance had been my only salvation. But now, he was the one who had pushed me into this abyss. His assistant, rushing to deliver a contract, burst through the door, nearly colliding with me. Arthur’s eyes flickered with surprise. “Evelyn? When did you get here? Don’t get the wrong idea; Celeste just dropped by to catch up, nothing else…” “Evelyn, long time no see.” Celeste rose, dressed in a bespoke piece from Bennett Holdings’ latest collection. Her face was flushed with health, her skin flawless. She looked anything but the picture of someone who had just been released from prison. I smiled, nodding, swallowing my rising resentment. “It’s fine. I was just in the area, thought I’d drop by. Since you’re busy, I’ll head back now.” Arthur, thinking I was angry, chased after me, explaining for quite a while. “Don’t be like this, my love. I was just asking her how she was doing in prison. After all, she’s a woman; it must have been tough in there…” “It’s been three years. All grudges should be laid to rest by now, shouldn’t they? Didn’t you say it was all in the past?” Watching his desperate display, I simply smiled. To free Celeste, he had sacrificed his own marriage, putting on a show for me. Now that Celeste was safe and sound, who was he trying to impress? “Yes, it’s in the past. Don’t worry. I’m not unreasonable; I keep my word.” 4 “You stay busy. I’ll be home waiting for you, like a good wife.” He visibly relaxed, instructing his assistant to personally escort me downstairs. Before I left, he specifically reminded me about the Thorne family’s banquet the following evening. It was a celebration of Celeste’s return. As a CEO, he had his reputation to uphold. Publicly, they’d claimed Celeste was studying abroad, never mentioning her imprisonment. I nodded, saying I understood. I wouldn’t cause a scene at the banquet. Only then did he seem relieved enough to let me go. Back home, I took down the wedding photos from the wall and meticulously shredded them with scissors. Then, I tossed them into the trash. That night, Arthur didn’t come home. But Celeste logged back into her social media account. And posted an update for the first time in ages. A candlelit dinner for two. The man’s face wasn’t visible, only a glimpse of his wrist. The spot where a wedding ring should have been was conspicuously bare, but the skin tone difference revealed where it once rested. It was Arthur. Just as she’d hoped, I liked the post. I turned off my phone and packed my bags. The next morning, Arthur’s assistant delivered a dress. I unwrapped it and saw it was an outdated design from a previous season. That evening, when I arrived at the banquet hall, Julian Thorne had just finished his speech. He announced that Celeste would be in charge of all the company’s projects with Bennett Holdings. A wave of envy rippled through the guests. They praised Celeste’s good fortune, how both her childhood sweethearts held her in the highest regard. The moment I appeared, conversations abruptly ceased. Eyes turned to me, expressions of expectant amusement. Arthur was busy with socializing, paying me no mind. Celeste, acting as hostess, led me to the terrace upstairs. Once we were alone, she dropped her charade, her true nature laid bare. Her expression was a cocktail of sarcasm and venom. “Evelyn Hayes, after all these years, you’re still so useless.” “I’ve been overseas for the past three years, and thanks to your husband, I’ve had a wonderful time, you wouldn’t believe it. You don’t actually think Arthur married you out of love, do you? Truth be told, if you hadn’t sued me, he wouldn’t have given you a second glance!” “Evelyn Hayes, you’re nothing but a joke!” Fury ignited within me. I couldn’t hold back any longer and slapped her across the face. She sneered, a cold smile touching her lips, and quickly stumbled back a few steps. Then, she tumbled down the stairs. A collective gasp, then screams, erupted from the main hall. Arthur was there in an instant, rushing to her, scooping her into his arms. He looked up at me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Evelyn Hayes, what are you doing? Are you insane?!” “Celeste was kindly hosting you, how dare you push her? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t pursue the matter from back then? What’s with this scene today?!” My expression was cold, my voice devoid of emotion. “Me causing a scene?” “Arthur Bennett, don’t you think you owe me an explanation for what happened that day?” His brow furrowed, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “An explanation for what? Hasn’t Celeste already apologized to you for the past three years? What more do you want?” “One thing has nothing to do with the other. No matter what happened before, it doesn’t justify you laying hands on her today!” “Evelyn Hayes, apologize to her right now!” Before I could speak, Celeste was already weeping in his arms, her voice choked with feigned sorrow. “Please… please don’t be hard on Evelyn. All the fault, all the mistakes, were mine from back then. I wronged her. Let what happened today be my apology to her…” “Since she hates me so much, let’s… let’s not contact each other anymore. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” My nails bit fiercely into my palms, tiny drops of blood welling up. Watching their silhouettes, entwined, as they walked away, I knew it was truly over for us.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392873”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband said he was a wanted fugitive. He claimed he didn’t want to drag me down, so he turned himself in, urging me to remarry. My heart ached for him. I scrimped and saved, providing for our son while waiting for his release. It wasn’t until my hair turned white that I saw him strolling down the street, hand-in-hand with his long-lost love, lavishing her with Hermès and Chanel bags. Only then did I realize that his imprisonment was a charade, a calculated move to escape me and our family. I opened my eyes again, and I was back. Back to the very day my husband pretended to be a wanted fugitive. I quickly called the police and handed over every piece of incriminating evidence in the house. So, you wanted to play the part of a fugitive, did you? Then enjoy rotting in jail for the rest of your life. 1. “Beth, I’m so sorry. After all these years of marriage, there’s something I’ve kept from you. But I can’t bear the guilt any longer.” My husband, Eddy Thorne, gazed at me across the dining table, his face a mask of profound sorrow. My heart skipped a beat, and my gaze swept around the room. I was back. I had been reborn. Reborn to the exact day my husband faked his imprisonment in my previous life! Looking at his utterly phony expression, I felt a surge of nausea. Eddy continued, burying his face in his hands, tears streaming down. “Beth, the truth is, I’m a fugitive. When I was eighteen, I was foolish and broke. I robbed someone, and in the process, the homeowner died, leaving his wife and child utterly destitute. Now, I want to atone for that sin.” He gripped my hand, tears welling in his eyes. “You’ll support me, won’t you, Beth?” Our son, Leo, and my mother-in-law were both seated at the table, but neither of them showed the slightest hint of panic. I almost laughed. So, they all knew, and I was the only one kept completely in the dark! In my past life, to atone for my husband’s supposed sins, I’d humbled myself every holiday, going to their home, bowing and apologizing. The little money I had for our children was spent on gifts for that family, while I subsisted on meager meals day in and day out. But only on my deathbed did I learn that the “victim” I was meant to atone for was none other than his long-lost love, Veronica Hayes. And the ‘widowed mother and orphan’? His illegitimate child. The thought of how self-satisfied I’d been, believing I was doing something meaningful for my imprisoned husband, while they were secretly laughing at me, mocking my foolishness in their messages, filled me with incandescent rage. My mother-in-law immediately clutched her chest, slapping her thigh dramatically. “A curse upon our house! A total disgrace! Our family, so respectable for generations, how could you turn out like this, you good-for-nothing! A life on your hands! Come on! Your mother will take you to turn yourself in right now.” With that, she hauled Eddy to his feet and began to pull him towards the door. 2. Eddy gripped my hand, his voice thick with feigned emotion. “I’m sorry, Beth. From now on, you’ll have to take care of Leo all by yourself.” He turned to leave. My heart hammered. Feigning sorrow, I said to my mother-in-law, “Mother, even if Eddy has done something wrong, he’s still your son.” “How about this? I’ll take Eddy. I happen to have a friend who’s a lawyer; they could see if there’s any chance of a lighter sentence for Eddy’s situation.” That was a complete fabrication. I had no lawyer friends. I was just trying to throw them off. “No!” The words were barely out of my mouth when both my husband and mother-in-law protested simultaneously. My mother-in-law stammered, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Aren’t you suffering from back pain today? The journey might be bumpy. We can go by ourselves.” I asked, feigning suspicion. “Mother-in-law, why are you so against me going? Is it because Eddy hasn’t committed any crime at all, and this is just a scheme to fool me?” Our son, Leo, lowered his head, averting his gaze, unable to utter a word. My mother-in-law, however, looked furious, accusing me of trying to abandon my husband and find an excuse to leave him. Eddy, meanwhile, put on his most aggrieved expression. “Beth, I know it will be hard for you to raise Leo alone, but how could I possibly lie about something like this?” He gritted his teeth, as if finally making a difficult decision. “Beth, after I’m gone, you can remarry. Just let my mother raise Leo. I don’t want to burden you. You’re still so young; you can find someone better. The divorce papers are already on the table.” “Daddy… I don’t want you to leave me.” Leo finally began his act, clutching Eddy’s leg. Eddy wore an expression of stoic resignation, as if he were bravely marching to his execution. If I weren’t the victim, I would have applauded them! Their acting was Oscar-worthy! I nodded, then feigning a threat, I pulled out my phone. “Then I’ll call the police right now! Let them come pick up Eddy. It’ll save Mother-in-law a trip.” 3. At this, Eddy’s face instantly drained of color. He frantically shot glances at my mother-in-law, a silent plea in his eyes. My mother-in-law flinched, startled, and quickly said, “Beth has a point.” “How about this, Beth? You rest at home for a bit. I’ll go with Eddy to apologize to the family; after all, we’re in the wrong here.” Clearly, they were trying to buy time, to stall me. I nodded, feigning intense worry, and went back to the bedroom. It wasn’t the right moment yet. I checked my bank balance: thirty thousand dollars, my pre-marital savings, untouched. To prevent Eddy from secretly transferring it, I’d moved the funds to a different account. Next, I searched the house again. One of my bank cards was missing! After we married, all our salaries were transferred into this card for joint expenses. And now, the card was gone. Who was behind it? The answer was painfully obvious. A cold premonition settled in my gut. I checked my wardrobe again. My gold and silver bracelets, my expensive handbags, and all my luxury items—they had all been replaced with fakes! My heart hammered against my ribs. Eddy, that despicable dog, had truly gone to extreme lengths! He left me not a single penny, yet expected me to pay restitution to his mistress, raise his son, and care for his elderly mother. He wanted to wash his hands of everything. Disgusting! I immediately called a private investigator, entrusting them with some urgent inquiries. But a cold shadow in my heart stubbornly refused to dissipate. Just as I was drifting into a hazy sleep, the bedroom door was violently pounded. My mother-in-law was pounding her chest, looking utterly heartbroken, as if she were about to collapse. “That… that family’s mistress refused to let Eddy come back for one last goodbye. They… they put Eddy away.” Leo rushed out of his room, clutching my mother-in-law’s leg, not letting go. “Daddy… I want my daddy…” I crumpled to my knees, my face contorted in despair. “How could this happen?” I clutched Leo, weeping uncontrollably. “Eddy, now that you’re gone, how will we, a widowed mother and orphan, survive?” On the surface, I was heartbroken, but inside, I was practically dancing with glee. 4. That wretched man had thought things through quite thoroughly. He’d faked being arrested right after his “apology,” saving himself from being genuinely sent to prison. I then suggested to my mother-in-law, “Mother, I want to go see Eddy now.” She immediately waved her hands, rejecting me as if I were the enemy. “The police said Eddy can’t have visitors right now.” My mother-in-law’s eyes darted around, and she quickly proposed, “Since Eddy’s gone in, perhaps we should send that family some money. It might help lighten his sentence.” My mother-in-law, tears and snot streaming down her face, didn’t forget to subtly eye Leo. “Mommy, save Daddy!” Leo burst into tears and immediately tugged at my hand. I sneered. What a cunning plan they were playing. It was clear they wanted me to funnel money to Eddy’s mistress and her child. Did they really take me for a fool? I nodded. “Mother-in-law, you’re right. I’ll go get the card.” I feigned compliance and went back to the room. A flicker of triumph crossed my mother-in-law’s eyes. I picked up the bank card, then, a thought striking me, put it back down. Instead, I gathered the incriminating documents from Eddy’s desk drawer. When we arrived at Veronica Hayes’s house, she opened the door, her expression sorrowful, yet her eyes held the same haughty, superior air I remembered from my past life. She gazed at us, her voice stern. “What do you want? Haven’t you caused enough trouble for me and my child?” She was clutching the hand of a frail, thin little girl, and her performance was truly heartfelt. Anyone who didn’t know better would truly believe her husband had died and she was living in abject poverty! At this, my mother-in-law seized Leo and dragged him down with her, kneeling before Veronica, sobbing hysterically. “Veronica, dear… we were wrong, so utterly wrong. Hit me, curse me, this old woman will bear it all, but please, please forgive my Eddy.” A single word she almost blurted out confirmed my suspicions. Then she tried to pull me down to kneel and apologize with her. 5. Was this a joke? The legitimate wife apologizing to the mistress? I wasn’t a fool! I yanked my hand away. My mother-in-law stumbled, her head hitting the floor with a thud, making her wince in pain. I blinked, feigning confusion, and asked, “Mother-in-law, how do you know her name is Veronica?” My mother-in-law’s eyes flickered, and she quickly explained, ignoring the pain. “At first… at first, I didn’t.” She spun a lie. “Eddy told me on the way there. He said we had wronged her, and that we absolutely had to compensate Veronica properly.” Leo chimed in, supporting her. “Yes, Daddy mentioned her before.” I glanced at Leo, my heart chilling to its very core. My own son, simply because Eddy promised him a new racing drone if he lied, had kept me in the dark, letting me slave away for this family for decades. What an ingrate! I looked at the little girl opposite me. She was watching us warily. Yet she bore a striking resemblance to me. A daring suspicion bloomed in my mind. Veronica subtly intercepted my gaze. She shot me a quick, dismissive glance, then demanded, with a lion’s appetite, “You want me to forgive him? Fine. Half a million. Not a penny less, or there’s nothing to discuss!” She was remarkably assertive. Then she turned and slammed the door shut. I didn’t move. My mother-in-law panicked, lunging forward to grip the doorframe tightly. Veronica couldn’t quite shut the door. She spat with disgust, “Get out! I don’t want to see your family for another second! If it weren’t for you, my husband would still be alive!” My mother-in-law whirled around and fell to her knees before me. “Beth, please, I beg you! Save Eddy! I’ll be your slave in my next life, I swear! He’s my only son; please, please save him!” Her cries tore through the air. My expression remained impassive, but a cold smirk played on my lips inwardly. My mother-in-law pretended to beg, but in reality, she was putting me on the spot, banking on my soft heart to give in! “Mother-in-law, what are you doing! Eddy and I are husband and wife. Don’t worry, I’ll definitely get Eddy out…” I quickly helped my mother-in-law up from the ground. My mother-in-law was overjoyed, and Veronica subtly revealed a triumphant look. But then, the next second, I handed the documents I’d been holding behind my back to Veronica, sighing. “However, Mother-in-law is right.” “Since Eddy is so principled, I can’t let him be spoken ill of.” “Here are the proofs of Eddy’s crime. I’ll just take them to the police for him now. It’ll save the officers the trouble of searching.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392872”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Everyone always said I didn’t look like my parents. So I secretly took a DNA test, and the report confirmed the truth: I was indeed not their biological daughter. I delusionally burned the report, then secretly hired someone to find the real Davies family daughter. During my senior year’s winter break, I finally found her. At the time, she was working as a server in a bar. 1. Ever since I learned I wasn’t a Davies, my entire demeanor shifted. The once well-behaved, studious student started skipping classes and arguing with teachers. My grades plummeted at a visible speed, from average to the very bottom of the class. My parents didn’t know why, only assuming I was going through a rebellious phase. Every time the school called them in, we’d return home, and the four of us would sit in the living room, a family in bewildered distress. “Chloe,” my mother would say, her face stern, but her voice soft, laced with worry that she might truly upset me. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are you skipping classes?” I’d lower my head, not a shred of my classroom defiance remaining. Seeing my silence, my mother’s voice would gain a little more weight. “Chloe, skipping class is wrong.” I’d mumble in response, my voice weak. “I know.” I knew, but I’d still skip next time. My father would lower his newspaper, glance at my mother, then at me. “As long as you know you’re wrong, that’s what matters. Ready for dinner?” “Eat, eat, eat! Is that all you think about?” My mother’s tone with my father was sharper than with me. I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. My brother, Ethan, noticed my smile. Fearing Mom would catch it and scold me again, he quickly stood up and pulled me. “Mom, you’ve lectured enough. Chloe and I are going to eat.” I followed him to the dining room obediently. A family intervention, ostensibly for my sake, thus ended. Back then, I was incredibly naive. The DNA test felt like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, a truth I simply couldn’t accept. So I acted out, deliberately making trouble, using every tantrum as a twisted way to confirm my parents’ and brother’s love for me, over and over again. I completely refused to consider: what about the real Davies daughter? While I was brazenly occupying her parents and brother, casually basking in their love as if it were my inherent right, what kind of life was she living? Who was there to love her? I dared not think, yet couldn’t help but wonder. Finally, I stopped running from it. I found old photos of my mother and father from their childhood. From my meager allowance, I set aside a portion to hire a private investigator, tasking him with secretly searching for the real Davies daughter. As for what I would do once he found her, I had no idea. 2. During the winter break of my senior year, the investigator finally called. He said he’d found her. He’d found the real Davies daughter. This time, the answer wasn’t the countless uncertainties of before. It was absolute certainty. My heart pounded violently, unsure if I felt joy or sorrow. I asked the investigator where he’d found her. He told me she was working as a server in a bar. She was my age. I woke up naturally every day, meeting friends to shop. And she was in a bar, earning what, to me, was mere pocket change. After hanging up, he sent me a photo of the real daughter. Even if it was just my imagination, the more I looked, the more she resembled my mother. After much deliberation, I finally made up my mind to go see her. As for what to do after seeing her… I’d figure that out later. After dinner, I called my best friend and also rounded up some of the tough, street-smart friends I’d made since my rebellious phase. We agreed on a place to meet up. My best friend, seeing Jax, the tattooed guy, visibly flinched and hid behind me. I patted her hand reassuringly, explaining that Jax was my friend, and his full-sleeve tattoo just looked a bit intimidating. I introduced my motley crew of friends to my best friend, explaining their colorful appearances. Only then did we head to the location the investigator had given me. Even after years of rebellion, I’d never been to a bar. In my mind, it wasn’t a good place. We found a spot, awkwardly settling into a booth. Good thing I’d brought Jax and the others; they looked perfectly at home here, like seasoned regulars. But how was I supposed to meet the real daughter? That question truly stumped me. Drinks were quickly brought to our table. I carefully scanned the servers, but didn’t see the girl from the photo. I stood up, feigning a trip to the restroom, and began to wander through the bar. It was around seven in the evening, and the bar wasn’t too crowded yet. “One drink for a hundred bucks. Wanna go?” A man’s voice, thick with obvious intoxication, drifted towards me. I instinctively quickened my pace, trying to distance myself from the sound, but my gaze, as if compelled by some unseen force, drifted over. My eyes widened in shock. It was the girl from the photo. Summer, the real Davies daughter, she was right there! 3. The girl stared at the glass of liquor, her eyes etched with struggle and hesitation. Was she really going to drink that for a mere hundred dollars? Was she out of her mind?! By the time I came to my senses, I had already snatched the drink and splashed it across the man’s face. The man glared at me, his eyes blazing. “You little bitch! You dare to splash me?!” I instinctively grabbed the girl’s hand beside me, ready to flee. The man saw my intention and sneered, a cruel twist of his lips. “Stop them.” From somewhere, several burly men materialized, appearing behind us and blocking our escape. I inwardly cursed my impulsiveness. I should have tried to reason with the man, to buy some time. But what could I do? I simply couldn’t stand by and watch him use money to force someone to drink. Suddenly, the girl wrenched her hand free from mine, stepping in front of me, shielding me. “I don’t know her. Let her go.” The man swept all the glasses off the table, sending them crashing to the floor with a series of sharp, shattering sounds. “Go? I’d like to see either of you try to leave today!” I had completely lost my earlier bravado, trembling slightly at his menacing display. My gaze drifted to the thin, fragile shoulders shielding me, and a strange emotion flickered within me. If she knew who I was, would she regret stepping in to protect me today? I stood there, dazed, until a cry of pain erupted from behind me. A wave of relief washed over me: Jax and the others were here. Good thing I’d sent Jax a quick text earlier, telling him our location and to come over. Otherwise, the consequences would have been unimaginable. Thankfully, the men the drunkard hired were all bark and no bite. They were no match for Jax’s crew and were knocked out cold within a few moves. The tables quickly turned. Jax knelt beside me, his voice laced with concern, “Chloe, are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he made to lunge at the man. I quickly grabbed his arm. “That’s enough. Stop hitting him.” If this escalated, it would surely reach my parents or Ethan. Deep down, I wasn’t ready for them to meet the real daughter yet. The man, seeing his men defeated, pulled out his phone, clearly intending to call for more backup. My friends, who were closer, swiftly snatched the phone, twisting his arm behind his back. A man who looked like the bar manager appeared, his face grim. My heart sank. The situation had indeed blown up. 4. To my surprise, Jax gallantly stayed behind to handle the situation. He told his friends to send Summer and me out first. Stepping out of the bar, we finally escaped the deafening music and the stinging smell of stale alcohol. I took a deep breath of fresh, crisp air, feeling as though I could finally breathe again, as if I’d been reborn. Bars, I decided, were truly not good places. I should avoid them in the future. “Thank you for helping me,” the girl said, her voice soft and melodious, a pleasant sound next to my ear. I’d almost forgotten about her. I turned my head to look at her. She was wearing the bar’s standard black uniform dress, her head slightly bowed, a few strands of hair falling around her ears. “It’s nothing. But I probably messed up your job.” “It’s okay. I didn’t want to keep this job anyway.” With that, we exchanged smiles, a strange sense of understanding passing between us. Suddenly, being with her felt incredibly comfortable, easy. “How long have you worked here? Do you want me to come with you to quit?” “Today was my third day. It’s no trouble, I can go by myself.” I insisted on accompanying her to quit. She couldn’t argue with my stubbornness and eventually led me inside. When I saw the small, grateful curve of her lips as she clutched a few hundred dollars in cash, a gnawing sense of guilt began to creep into my chest. I hadn’t just occupied her parents’ and brother’s love; I had stolen her entire prosperous life, the life that should have been hers. If I were her, learning all this, I would surely hate myself to the bone. “Let me treat you to some late-night snacks.” She held up the crisp new bills in her hand, a genuine smile on her face. I was about to refuse when Jax and his crew emerged from the bar. “Chloe, we helped you out so much. Treating us to some late-night snacks isn’t too much to ask, is it?” It was Finn, the skinny guy next to Jax, who spoke. Jax immediately elbowed him, a sharp jab. “You’re certainly not shy, are you?” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Summer’s tension and apprehension. I quickly introduced my friends to her. “This is Jax, Finn, Leo…” The few men, hearing my introductions, looked utterly exasperated. In truth, I didn’t even know their real names. When you’re out on the streets, all that matters are catchy, easy-to-remember nicknames. Why bother with real names? Finn grumbled quietly, sounding disgruntled. “You completely ruined our first impression.” I rolled my eyes. “I recall your first impression was probably made inside the bar.” Their first impression, I thought, probably involved them breaking some bones. They had, after all, knocked the man’s burly friends out cold in just a few moves. “My name is Summer Peterson. Thank you all.” Summer Peterson. It was a beautiful name. “No problem, it was nothing,” Jax mumbled, scratching his head, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Big, tough guy, yet he still blushed around girls. I rolled my eyes, but held my tongue. “No need to thank them. Just thank me. Come on, let’s go get some late-night snacks.” Then, a motley procession of us marched towards a lively, no-frills eatery. Along the way, remembering my best friend whom I’d brought to the bar, I quickly asked Jax about her. If I’d known something like this would happen, I definitely wouldn’t have brought her. “Rocco took her home.” Rocco didn’t say much, but he was reliable. I nodded in relief. “Tell Rocco to come join us for snacks too.” We sat down, just enough to fill the round table comfortably. Mrs. Stone, the owner, approached with a wide smile, handing us two menus, and stood by, waiting for our order. Jax gallantly placed a menu in front of Summer and me. Seeing she didn’t move, I took the menu and asked about her preferences. “Do you eat chives?” She nodded. “And gluten?” She nodded again. “Chicken wings?” She still nodded. I stopped asking her and simply ordered two portions of everything I thought tasted good. Then I let Jax and the others order. Summer clutched the crisp bills nervously in her hand. With just a glance, I understood her worry. “My treat. You keep the money you earned.” She was worried she didn’t have enough. “But you all helped me.” “Then you can treat us next time.” She no longer refused, neatly folding the money and tucking it into her pocket. “If you ask me, nothing beats a good cold beer. All those fancy drinks in the bar are overpriced and don’t even taste that great.” Jax guzzled his beer, his words becoming more boisterous with each swig. I placed some chives and gluten onto Summer’s plate, fearing she’d be too shy to take them herself. Then I heard her polite, repeated thanks, one after another. They never stopped. The more polite she was, the more a bitter ache swelled in my chest. Perhaps, I thought, I should tell her the truth at the right moment. To my parents, to Ethan, and to Summer. And then, I would face the reckoning, though delayed, that was bound to come. 5. They drank quite a bit of beer, but thankfully, they were still coherent. Jax insisted on taking Summer and me home. I suggested we drop Summer off first. So, the group headed towards Summer’s residence. My heart hammered against my ribs, a nervous rhythm. I wondered what her living situation was like. What kind of people were my biological parents? Probably not great, I thought, otherwise why would they make an eighteen-year-old Summer work in a bar to earn money? A pang of sadness tightened my chest. “We’re here,” Summer said softly. I looked up, then froze. Central High. She lived at school? As if sensing my confusion, she quietly explained: “I applied for cold-weather accommodation at the school.” So that was it. “Do you have a phone? Can we exchange contacts?” She shook her head. They didn’t even buy her a phone. That was truly outrageous. “But you can give me your number. I can remember it. When I earn enough money, I’ll treat you all to a meal.” She could remember it? I was a little shocked by her memory, momentarily speechless. Then she seemed to misunderstand, quickly making a promise. “I’ll definitely call you. If I don’t, you can come find me at school. My name is Summer Peterson, and the gate guard knows me too.” “That’s not what I meant,” I said, sighing. I helplessly recited my number to her. We watched her enter the school, and then the group finally dispersed. By the time I got home, it was past ten. Using the faint light filtering in from outside, I eased the door open, trying to be as quiet as a phantom. Then, the living room lights flickered to life with a sudden click. My parents and Ethan were all sitting in the living room, waiting, not yet asleep. 6. I slipped on my slippers, took a deep breath, and walked towards them. My mother’s arms were crossed, her voice cool and sharp. “Where have you been? You actually remembered to come home!” I sneaked a glance at my father and Ethan. My father cleared his throat, but his gaze immediately darted away when it met mine. Ethan adjusted his spectacles, his eyes darting nervously around the room. Clearly, both of them were here to be mere props, leaving me to face the music. I could only stand rigidly, staring at the leg of the sofa, and ad-libbed. “My best friend and I went for a walk. We lost track of time, so we played a bit late.” My voice faded to a whisper by the end. “What’s that smell?” My mother sniffed the air, then her voice suddenly gained volume, a note of accusation. “Alcohol! Chloe Davies, you actually went drinking!” After spending so long in the cold night air, there was still a smell of alcohol? I instinctively raised my sleeve and sniffed. It must have been wine that had accidentally splashed onto my clothes. I hung my head in annoyance. To my mother, this was as good as an admission of guilt. Immediately, she rose to her feet in a huff, raising her hand as if to strike me. My father quickly stood up too, reaching out to block my mother. “Let’s talk this out, dear. Don’t lay hands on the child.” Ethan stepped in front of me, shielding me. “Mom, don’t hit Chloe.” My mother’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears. “You two, father and son, always protect her. Just let me die from anger, why don’t you?!” With that, she sank back onto the sofa, turning her head away, unwilling to spare me another glance. My father and Ethan kept shooting me meaningful glances, and I nodded, understanding their silent plea. “Mom, I promise I didn’t drink a single drop of alcohol. It just accidentally got on my clothes.” I moved to sit on the left side of the sofa, but my mother immediately spun around, facing right, her back to me. “Mom, I swear, I really didn’t drink. If I drank tonight, then may I be struck by lightning—” Before I could finish the oath, my mother quickly spun around, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Alright, alright, Mom believes you.” I happily leaned closer, but she quickly pulled away. “You reek of it! Go take a shower. If you come home this late again, I’m locking the door, and you can spend the night outside.” Crisis averted. “Okay, I’m going to shower now. Goodnight, Mom, Dad, Ethan!” As I passed the second-floor landing, my shoulders suddenly slumped. The image of my mother’s tear-reddened eyes lingered in my mind, an inescapable image. I thought, Summer would never upset Mom like that. She was polite, she knew how to show gratitude. She was so good, much better than me. A bitter ache swelled in my throat, but I swallowed it down. A selfish thief who stole someone else’s happiness, what right did I have to feel wronged? Lying in bed, I drifted into a fitful sleep, plagued by one nightmare after another. In my dreams, Summer and my parents reunited, a picture of perfect family bliss. In my dreams, Ethan screamed at me, accusing me of stealing Summer’s life. In my dreams, I was cast out of the Davies home, a stranger in their midst. In my dreams, my biological parents forced me to work as a bar server, just to earn money. …

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392871”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After years of backbreaking work, I’d finally scraped together a small fortune—enough gold to fill my palm ten times over. Once I bought the Sunstone Amulet from the pawnshop, Alaric and I could finally go home. But Alaric, in the dead of night, stole all the money. The very next morning, he returned, leading a woman of exquisite beauty, delicate and graceful as a blossom. He said, “Seraphina has endured such a tragic past; I simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” I glanced at my own slightly creased woolen gown, then at the sumptuous brocade gown the woman wore. It was woven with threads of gold and silver, meticulously embroidered. I recognized her. Seraphina, the celebrated Lute Master from the Whispering Lyre Salon. My voice was hoarse as I asked, “Where is the rest of the money?” Even if Seraphina was a star attraction, her release wouldn’t cost the full ten Gold Sovereigns. Alaric, avoiding my gaze, licked his lips nervously. “Seraphina is accustomed to the finer things from her time at the Whispering Lyre. So, I bought her some jewelry and gowns.” With that, he pulled a few meager Silver Crowns from his pouch and placed them on the table. I took a deep breath, forcing my trembling hands to stillness. “Alaric, you know what that money was for.” Alaric’s face flashed with impatience. “Oh, come on, Agatha. We can always earn more. Can you truly bear to see Seraphina performing night after night, pouring wine and forcing smiles?” “You’re a woman too; how can you be so devoid of compassion?” Before Alaric could continue, Seraphina spoke up from beside him. “I, humble as I am, know that such a great kindness can never be fully repaid. I am willing to serve Master Alaric and Lady Agatha as your faithful servant, to show my gratitude.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if on the verge of tears. Alaric quickly soothed her with a gentle voice. “Money is but a trifle. Now that you have no place to go, you can stay here at the inn for a while. Come, I’ll show you to a room.” He led Seraphina upstairs, not sparing me another glance. I didn’t know if he dared not, or simply chose not to. I reached out, scooped the few Silver Crowns into my pouch, and reopened the ledger. This inn, The Wayfarer’s Rest, Alaric and I had established three years ago. It was our second year after being transported to this strange world. Unlike the tales of transmigration I’d read, we were nothing more than ordinary folk. We had relied on our memories, crafting various trinkets to sell from a street stall, before we could afford to acquire this inn, finally giving ourselves a place to call home. Later, I even opened a small House of Lumina, selling my custom scents and balms. But to gather the money, I had recently sold the parlor. The funds from that sale… were now adorning Seraphina. Excluding our time here, Alaric and I had been together for five years. We were at the precipice of marriage. Since arriving here, my only desire was to find a way back home as quickly as possible. Two years ago, during a visit to The Abbey of Whispering Pines outside the city, I met a Reverend Brother. The Reverend Brother spoke in riddles, yet his words seemed pointed. “Ten Gold Sovereigns shall procure the golden Sunstone Amulet, and the lost shall find their serene passage home.” I searched all of Lyra, and only one pawnshop held such a golden Sunstone Amulet. From that day forward, I toiled from dawn till dusk, running between the inn and my parlor, even setting up a street stall when I had a moment. Alaric, meanwhile, would occasionally lend a hand at the inn, but more often than not, he was out meeting with friends. He claimed these connections would benefit our business. Thinking of this, a sliver of doubt began to creep into my mind. Had his previous outings truly been for friendly gatherings, or for a clandestine rendezvous with a paramour? A sudden knock at the door broke my reverie. It was Alaric and Seraphina. I had no desire to speak with them at that moment, but Seraphina stepped forward first, linking her arm through mine. “Lady Agatha, once I repair the strings of my lute in a few days, I’ll be able to earn alongside you both. Master Alaric worked so hard to secure my release; I won’t fail to repay his kindness.” I didn’t bother to correct her. Every single coin had been earned by me. Given my need for funds, and her undeniable talent, I knew she could indeed be of some use. Leaving aside everything else, her skill with the lute was truly unparalleled. Alaric moved closer, lowering his voice. “Agatha, I spoke too harshly today. Don’t be angry. Don’t worry, we’ll earn the money back quickly. Just focus on running the inn well.” With that, he moved back to Seraphina’s side. They exchanged a tender smile, their eyes holding a silent, intimate conversation, while I stood by, feeling utterly like an outsider. As they stepped out of my room together, an indescribable sense of desolation washed over me. I had just noticed a string of small, polished stones adorning Seraphina’s neck. Alaric had bought those two years ago; I had seen them by chance. But he had claimed they were a birthday gift for some young lord. Now it seemed, that young lord’s name was Seraphina. So they had known each other for a long time. Had Alaric planned to use the money to buy her freedom all along? I licked my parched lips. Bitter. So bitter. I sat in the room, stunned for a long while, then it suddenly struck me that instead of agonizing over endless possibilities, I should confront him directly. But I searched for a while and couldn’t find either of them. A stable boy told me Alaric had taken Seraphina out, saying he wanted to show her around Lyra. I couldn’t help but laugh. Seraphina had probably lived in Lyra longer than he had; she hardly needed him as a guide. “Did he forget he was supposed to procure the ale and provisions today?” “I spoke with the Master, Lady, and he said your presence would suffice.” Alaric didn’t return until dusk. Watching him, his arms laden with packages, I felt a strange flicker of unreality. The top box held The Serenity Sweet, from The Golden Griffin Manor, the most renowned eatery in Lyra. Not only was it a limited delicacy, but even queuing for it would cost dozens of Silver Crowns. Last year, around winter festival, I’d mentioned to Alaric that I wished I could taste The Serenity Sweet before we left. It was said that those who partook of it would know such earthly delight that they would forget all past sorrows. But Alaric had scoffed. “Just a stale pastry sold for such a ridiculous price. Our savings have a greater purpose. Don’t you want to go home sooner?” I thought he was right; compared to any sweet, I wanted to go home sooner. Now, looking back, it was utterly ironic. Seraphina saw me and greeted me warmly. “Lady Agatha, Master Alaric queued for so long today to get this. The Serenity Sweet is truly delicious! Would you like a taste?” Seraphina’s bright smile at that moment was blinding, making my eyes sting. I couldn’t manage a smile. Stiffly, I called out to Alaric, “Come with me.” Once we were out of sight of others, I turned to face Alaric, my gaze locked with his. “Are you smitten with her?” Alaric’s face darkened. “Agatha, can you not always be so suspicious? I merely took her out for some shopping. What nonsense are you spouting? Is your heart truly so small?” A searing anger coiled in my chest. I couldn’t help but raise my hand and slap him. Alaric stared at me, his eyes wide, momentarily stunned. Seraphina, however, let out a soft cry and quickly rushed over. “How could you strike Master Alaric?” Seraphina’s face was filled with shock. She clutched Alaric’s arm with one hand and gently touched his cheek with the other. Alaric finally snapped back to reality. “Agatha, what madness has seized you?” “You are but Master Alaric’s adopted sister. For Master Alaric to provide for your sustenance and shelter is already a great kindness. How can you repay his generosity with such malice?” Seraphina’s face was etched with indignation. “Adopted sister?” I slowly repeated the words. When we first arrived in Lyra, for convenience, we had agreed to pose as siblings. But over time, the neighbors and our own staff had simply assumed Alaric and I were husband and wife; no one had mentioned “siblings” in ages. I had actually considered getting married then, but ultimately decided it should wait until we returned home, to be wed in the presence of our parents and loved ones. Later, consumed by earning money, I hadn’t given it much thought. Alaric lowered his gaze, not immediately answering me. “Alaric, say it again. Am I your adopted sister?” I felt a tightness in my throat, barely suppressing the tremor in my voice. Seraphina also turned to look at him. Alaric looked up at me, then immediately shifted his gaze to Seraphina. He nodded slightly, and finally spoke. “Yes.” Seraphina’s anxious expression completely relaxed. She quickly pulled Alaric toward her room, saying she had a fine salve that could soothe the redness and swelling. And I, I just stared blankly at Alaric’s retreating back, for a long, long time, without turning away. That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, my mind replaying every moment from when Alaric and I first met to when we fell in love. The next day, I didn’t rise until the sun was high in the sky. Seraphina and Alaric were already out again. Even though my spirits were low, the inn’s business couldn’t stop. Now, my only thought was to raise the money and go home as soon as possible. If Alaric didn’t want to leave, then so be it. In the afternoon, when the inn quieted down, I ventured out alone, intending to visit the pawnshop and see if the golden Sunstone Amulet was still there. I hadn’t expected to walk just two streets when I heard a shout. “Fortunes told! Fortunes told!” I had no mind for divination and didn’t even bother to glance over, but unexpectedly, a carriage galloped past. Startled, I stumbled and dodged to the side, falling right into the stall. Immediately, a wave of dizziness washed over me. The stall owner beside me was still chanting, “Oh, lady, have your fortune told. It’s remarkably accurate.” When I finally managed to stand, I saw the person at the stall. He looked exactly like the Reverend Brother I had met at The Abbey of Whispering Pines two years ago. I grabbed his sleeve. “It’s you! Aren’t you a Reverend Brother? Why are you a fortune teller?” The false Reverend Brother was startled when he recognized my face. He tried to flee, but I held him in a death grip. “Lady, I know nothing. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.” I casually pulled a Silver Crown from my pouch and slammed it down. “Tell me the truth, and the money is yours. If not, we’re going straight to the Royal Bailiff’s Office!” The fortune teller eventually spoke. He had always made a living by telling fortunes. Two years ago, a young lord approached him, promising him fifty Silver Crowns if he followed his instructions. All those words about the Sunstone Amulet had been fed to him. He had then taken the money and returned to his homeland. Now that it was spent, he was back at his stall. “So the Amulet… it was a lie?” I was both shocked and furious. “I know nothing else. The young lord taught me everything I said.” I slowly released my grip, turning to run towards the pawnshop. The pawnshop owner readily admitted the deception. He even handed me the Amulet directly. “Lady, I truly couldn’t bear to keep deceiving you. This stone is only worth fifty Silver Crowns. If you like it, I’ll give it to you for half price.” “I truly don’t know why he insisted on keeping it from you. A mere stone, and yet he didn’t want you to acquire it.” I knew. I knew why he kept it from me. Because he needed to purchase Seraphina’s freedom. I still took out the money and bought the Amulet. But my feelings were completely different from what I’d expected. All that long anticipation had been a mere illusion. I could never go home. He had been so cruel, deceiving me to such an extent. My heart ached fiercely, and I raised a hand to my cheek, thinking I must have been crying. To my surprise, not a single tear had fallen. When I returned to the inn, Alaric and Seraphina were seated closely together. Alaric’s gaze towards her was full of tenderness. I suddenly remembered the night he confessed his feelings to me, standing beneath my window with a bouquet of vibrant red roses, his expression similarly ardent. It was sickening. I reached out and tossed the Sunstone Amulet before him, staring at him, not speaking immediately. Alaric instinctively blurted out, “How did you… Where did you get the money for this Amulet?” “Only fifty Silver Crowns. I can afford it.” Alaric’s unfinished words caught in his throat. A hint of discomfort appeared on his face; he must have guessed I knew everything. I didn’t linger on his reaction, continuing, “Alaric, this inn, we built it together. Calculate its worth and give me my share in Silver Crowns.” He finally reacted. “What do you mean?” “A division of assets.” It was laughable, really. We weren’t even married, and yet here we were, talking about a division. Alaric stood up abruptly, his expression shocked. “You’re leaving? You know full well this Amulet…” “Yes, I know I can’t go back, and that you deliberately deceived me. But now, the sight of you makes me sick. I don’t want to stay here.” “Lady Agatha, there’s no such thing as a woman demanding a division of assets!” Seraphina suddenly interjected. “This is not your concern.” No sooner had I spoken than Alaric quickly stepped forward, shielding Seraphina. “Don’t take your anger out on Seraphina. It’s just a bit of money used, is it really worth this fuss?” “Besides, that money wasn’t earned by you alone. Can you stop being so unreasonable?” I looked at Alaric’s self-righteous expression, and a fire blazed within me. “I said I want a division! You can spend your money on whomever you please, but don’t you dare touch my share.” “If you don’t want to give it, then I’ll give you money. Take your Seraphina and get out.” I pulled out my own pouch of Silver Crowns and slammed it onto the table, then looked straight into Alaric’s eyes, afraid of showing any weakness. But Alaric, to my surprise, calmly sat down. “A division is acceptable, but… Agatha, you won’t get a single coin.” My breath hitched. Watching his demeanor, I suddenly felt my certainty waver. “Don’t forget, my name is on the Royal Charter, and I alone signed the deed. This inn belongs solely to me.” Alaric’s lips curved into a smirk as he leisurely looked at me. All the blood rushed to my head. A booming sound, and my entire body felt numb. “Don’t forget, this is Lyra.” “Without me, how will you survive?” Alaric’s words, one by one, hammered into my heart. I clenched my fists tightly, completely unaware that my fingernails were digging deep into my palms. Seeing that I didn’t respond, Alaric’s tone softened slightly. “Agatha, I was afraid you’d lose hope, and I didn’t mean to deceive you. Just manage this inn well. I’m not a heartless man.” His expression at that moment seemed particularly sinister. “So, you mean I earn the money for you to spend?” “Why should I?” Alaric’s expression seemed completely self-righteous. “Because this is Lyra. Here, men rule the household.” I looked at him, and felt utterly alien.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392870”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In five years of marriage, I had caught my husband with 99 paramours. When I was heavily pregnant, his hundredth little vixen offended our biggest client. To salvage the crucial project, Jack demanded that I, instead of her, walk to the client’s estate and beg for forgiveness on bended knee. In the torrential rain, I sobbed, my voice trembling: “The child is seven months old. A twenty-mile walk in such a downpour… the baby won’t survive this—” He slapped me impatiently, knocking me to the ground. “A few steps and you’re wailing like a banshee! What a performance! Aren’t you from the Northern Peaks?” He shoved me into the pouring rain, forcing me to prostrate myself every three steps. Blood streamed from between my legs, washing into crimson rivulets on the soaked ground. Inside the carriage, his little vixen, Lady Seraphina, looked utterly disgusted. “Didn’t even bother to use a proper cloth during her monthly flow. Disgusting.” I walked to the brink of death, giving birth prematurely to a daughter barely three pounds. When Dowager Countess Thorne rushed to my side, I used my last ounce of strength to beg her. “The Thorne family’s grace, in sponsoring my education, has been fully repaid with this child. Can I finally be free now?” 1 “Clara, my dear, have you made up your mind? Jack, he’s just lost his way for a time; he’s not truly himself. Could you possibly…” Dowager Countess Thorne choked back tears, her face etched with sorrow and a reluctance to accept my decision. The news report on the television happened to be broadcasting the Thorne Holdings Annual Gala, capturing our attention. Jack, with his hundredth paramour, Lady Seraphina, attended the event. On screen, their fingers were intertwined, the ruby engagement ring on Seraphina’s left hand drawing every eye. Their intimate posture garnered all the flashing lights. The Thorne Holdings directors bowed and scraped before Seraphina, their flattery oozing. “Whoever spread rumors that Lord Jack treats his lady wife poorly should see this! He keeps her by his side, even at the company gala. A match made in heaven, envied by all!” The words “lady wife” struck a chord in Seraphina’s heart, deepening her smile, her cheeks flushing with vibrant color. Other employees immediately followed suit, eagerly egging them on. “Angels descended! Come, show us your affection! A kiss! A kiss!” Jack’s lips curved into a smirk. He didn’t rebuke his subordinates. Instead, he embraced Seraphina and passionately kissed her. Dowager Countess Thorne froze, then quickly grabbed the remote and turned off the television. She looked at me, her face filled with shame, her voice softening. “Clara, alas, it’s all my fault for my misguided good intentions. I believed you two were meant for each other, and instead, I’ve harmed you. You owe the Thorne family nothing more, my dear. Go. Go anywhere you wish!” Dowager Countess Thorne’s calloused hand gently caressed my cheek, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. In five years of marriage, my tears had long since dried. “You haven’t seen the child yet…” Dowager Countess Thorne’s hand paused. My heart, like a heavy stone suspended in air, suddenly plummeted. Smashing, leaving a bloody mess. My own flesh and blood, born at seven months, after half my life force was spent. How could I abandon her, just like that? In a daze, the nurse brought the baby into the room. “Baby’s mother, look how adorable your little one is. Though she’s small, she’s…” “No, I don’t want to see her!” I sharply turned my head, staring out the window, desperately trying to prevent myself from looking at the tiny bundle wrapped in pink. Clenching my fists, I told myself not to yield. Clara, your freedom lies beyond that window. Nothing can keep you rooted here. The nurse stood frozen, unsure what to do. Dowager Countess Thorne sighed, shook her head, and signaled her to take the child away. When the room was left to just the two of us again, she wiped away her tears and reluctantly dialed Jack’s number. His voice on the other end was still somewhat gentle; after all, his grandmother was now his only true kin. “Grandmother, I’m busy with work. You know how it is, end of the year, lots of company matters. I’ll be home soon…” “Silence! Are you going to lie to your grandmother’s face now? The news is filled with you and that disreputable woman!” Jack fell silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice dripping with scorn. “Grandmother, your eyesight isn’t what it used to be. How long has it been since you watched television? Clara, that wretched woman, must have fed you this nonsense, didn’t she?” “Is that wretched Clara right there beside you? Let her listen!” I switched on the speakerphone. My tears silently fell onto the receiver. From the other end of the line, amidst the background sound of a woman sobbing, came Jack’s utterly insulting curses. Dowager Countess Thorne’s eyes were red-rimmed, her hand trembling slightly. “Clara, my dear, finish your confinement, and then leave the Thorne estate.” 2 When I was discharged, Jack didn’t come to pick me up. But, unexpectedly, he ordered a bouquet of flowers for me. In five years of marriage, he had sent countless flowers to every paramour, yet I, his lawful wife, was receiving them for the first time. In the past, even if he had casually tossed me a simple card, I would have treasured it, framed it, and collected it. But faced with the huge bouquet of lilies, I simply refused to sign for them. Jack, upon hearing this, exploded in a fit of rage, his voice booming from the delivery man’s phone. “Clara, you ungrateful wretch! I’d sooner throw money at a dog than give it to you!” He had no idea I was allergic to lilies; the pollen would cause severe breathing difficulties. During dinner, Jack suddenly returned to the Thorne estate with Lady Seraphina. I treated them as if they were invisible, continuing to eat without a care. Jack, seeing my indifference but unable to erupt, fumed and stomped out to the balcony to smoke. Seraphina, her stilettos clicking, swayed her hips like a viper and sat beside me. “Still have an appetite? Look at that waist; you’re as plump and greasy as a sow.” “And I hear women who’ve birthed children are loose and dry down there, can’t even hold a quill.” “In your state, do you truly have the nerve to cling to the title of Lady Thorne?” Seraphina’s mocking tone was utterly transparent. Usually, faced with such provocation, I would have erupted in fury and retorted immediately. But today, I acted as if I were deaf, not even sparing her a glance. I sat steadily, continuing to serve myself and eat. She froze for a moment, then suddenly forced a laugh. “Oh, playing the indifferent one, are we? Let’s see how long you can keep that up!” With that, she overturned the entire pot of soup onto herself, then, before I could react, shoved the basin into my hands and shrieked. “Lady Clara, I merely admire Lord Jack! What’s wrong with love? You can hit me, curse me, but why would you ruin my face…?” Seraphina was a minor socialite, attracting followers with her striking beauty—her greatest asset. She had scalded her skin below the neck a vivid red, leaving her drenched and utterly pitiful. I heard a stir from the balcony. Jack was coming inside. Before, facing such blatant setups, I would panic, desperate to defend myself, but all I ever received was Jack’s cold mockery. Today, I held the soup basin steadily, and with Jack witnessing it firsthand, I deliberately smashed the ceramic pot onto Seraphina’s body. Jack roared, striking me with a forceful slap. “Wretch! How could my noble Thorne family have such a petty, ungrateful fool as its lady of the house!” I was knocked to the ground, the scattered ceramic shards slicing into me, leaving dozens of bleeding wounds. My body was instantly drenched in blood. Pain consumed my entire being, and all I could hear was Jack’s furious roars. “Clara, I told you to apologize to Seraphina! Are you deaf?” I lowered my head, a silent, cold laugh on my lips as I gazed at the bleeding wounds. Jack, enraged, kicked me in the lower back, then grabbed my neck, forcing my face close to Seraphina. The woman’s beautiful, yet arrogant, face filled my vision, her triumphant smirk utterly brazen. An apology, is it? The next second, I sprang to my feet, systematically pouring the dishes from the table over my head, then forcefully smashing the empty ceramic vessels against myself. The hot liquid mixed with blood stung the wounds, a searing pain, but it paled in comparison to the ache in my heart. “How’s that? Is this apology heartfelt enough? Or do you still find it lacking…” “Clara, have you gone mad!” Jack saw my bruised and battered body. A flicker of pain crossed his eyes, and he violently seized my hands, stopping me from harming myself further. “Stop it right now!” The arm he gripped was covered in unhealed needle marks. Jack’s eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly. “What’s this? Why so many needle marks?” In five years of marriage, Jack’s affairs far outnumbered his times returning home for dinner. The title of Thorne Holdings’ patriarch naturally attracted not ordinary flings, but cunning, ruthless women, all with the courage and means to scheme and plot to replace me as Lady Thorne. Every time I was directly harmed, or when Jack hurt me on their behalf, the immense physical and mental anguish forced me to seek relief from pain medication. Jack stared blankly at the needle marks, then his face quickly turned to one of disdain. He flung my arm away, looking at me with disgust and contempt. “Well, Clara, you’re certainly getting clever. Resorting to playing the martyr now, are we? Let me tell you, feigning illness won’t work on me!” I was thrown to the ground again. My palm, bracing my fall, was covered in blood from fresh cuts, but I was already numb to the pain. Anyway, my confinement period would be over in half a month. 3 After Jack took Seraphina to the hospital, I sat numbly in the drawing-room. My fingers instinctively traced the wedding ring on my ring finger. This was the only tangible proof of my title as Lady Thorne. The ill-fitting ring was bound with several wraps of crimson thread, barely allowing it to stay on my finger. But five years had passed, and the gold plating had faded, revealing the silver beneath. When we bought the wedding ring back then, the sales assistant’s gaze at me was filled with disdain. “Such a wealthy and generous husband wouldn’t be unwilling to buy something better. He must have been forced into marriage, just casually making a token gesture. This woman is truly pitiful.” But I had happily accepted the ring Jack had personally chosen, never taking it off. I had asked him to wear the male wedding ring, but he refused. When I persisted, he simply claimed he had lost it. And so, for five years, his hand remained bare, as if he had never been bound by this marriage at all. I cut the red thread and took off the ring. From behind me, Jack’s cold sneer broke the silence. “Finally willing to take it off? Wasn’t it ‘cherished until death do us part’?” He walked in, puffing on a pipe, smoke curling around him, and eyed me disdainfully. His expression at that moment instantly transported me back to our wedding day, when he brought his first mistress into our bridal chamber. I had dragged the mistress out by her hair. Jack had watched with the same detached indifference, pipe in mouth. “Go on, hit her. Hit as hard as you like. The Thorne family has plenty of coin for compensation.” “For every one you strike down, I’ll take ten more. There are plenty of women in the world; I can be a groom every night.” I used to hate Jack like this the most—always causing a scandal, yet remaining aloof, leaving me to be the desperate, defeated wretch. But, I was leaving. It no longer mattered. I walked around him, heading straight into the dressing room to pack my luggage. Jack rushed in, agitated, and pushed my suitcase away. “Packing what? Leaving?” Was there panic in his eyes? How laughable. I sidestepped him, my voice calm. “It’s too cold. I’m going to a warm springs retreat with a good friend.” Jack visibly relaxed. While I was bathing, amidst the steam, Jack pushed open the bathroom door and walked in. He said he’d help me wash, as an apology for the day. I immediately wrapped myself in my bathrobe, recoiling from him in disgust. “Save your services for your little vixens; I don’t want them!” Jack’s face turned livid. He sneered. “Clara, what are you playing at, being a saint? A woman with a temper, isn’t it just because her man isn’t putting in enough effort in bed? Your husband will love you fiercely tonight!” He seized my waist, ripped open my bathrobe, and buried his face downwards. “Get out! Don’t touch me!” I struggled wildly, lifting my knee to strike at his groin. Jack dodged my attack, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He violently smashed the bottles and jars in the bathroom to the floor. “Fine! If you’re not willing, there are plenty of others waiting!” Jack stormed out, slamming the door. I clutched my bathrobe tightly, curling into a ball, and fell into an uneasy sleep. In the dead of night, from the other side of the wall by my headboard, came rhythmic, intimate sounds, jarring me awake. Following closely, the man’s playful laughter and the woman’s moans seeped into my ears. The room next door was the nursery, prepared for the newborn. Jack was deliberately trying to sicken me. The door was wide open. I walked directly to them, staring at their entangled forms without blinking. Jack turned, saw my indifferent expression, and his face twisted. He roared at me to get out. My eyes stung with unshed tears. But it didn’t matter. Out of sight, out of mind. It would all be over soon. 4 With my luggage, I left the Thorne estate and found a cheap inn to stay in. The next morning, someone pounded fiercely on my inn room door, waking me. After checking in yesterday, I had only given my address to my closest friend, Lady Eleanor. Opening the door, she stood there, her face anxious, holding up her mobile device for me to see. News of Jack’s infidelity and my forced departure had exploded across the entire network. #LordThorneSeeksThrillsWithParamourAsLadyOfTheManorSuffers #LadyThorneHumiliated,FleesInTheNight Lady Seraphina, a minor socialite with some online notoriety, instantly became a public enemy, savagely attacked by keyboard warriors. Oh, this trick again. He’s deliberately orchestrating this, isn’t he? And boosting his own visibility at the same time, I suppose. After all, infamy is still fame. But Jack, lost in his own schemes, saw me and, without a word, slapped me. “Clara, you venomous viper with a heart of vipers! No wonder you pretended not to care last night! You knew the scribes would be snapping pictures! You want to ruin Seraphina!” “You’ve driven her to the brink of exile from society, and she still says she doesn’t blame you! How can you be so ruthless!” “Come with me to Seraphina’s press conference right now! Apologize to her publicly and tell everyone she’s innocent!” Innocent? I touched my stinging cheek, a laugh bubbling up. “Whether she is innocent or not, isn’t that for you to decide, not me?” Jack refused to listen to a single word. He seized my collar and dragged me towards the press conference. Seraphina’s face was unadorned, her eyes swollen and red like walnuts. She bowed at a ninety-degree angle, offering an apology. Seeing my appearance, reporters immediately swarmed around. “Lady Thorne, did you orchestrate those intimate images?” “Lady Thorne, did Lady Seraphina truly interfere in your marriage with Lord Jack?” Jack, standing beside me, glared at me with eyes as cold as ice. I offered a faint smile, stepped forward, and helped Seraphina to her feet. “Lady Seraphina, you have suffered undue distress. It is all my fault.” Then I lowered my head and bowed. “Lady Seraphina is innocent; she is not a mistress. I am the hateful one, who deliberately forged images and fabricated false news to gain favor.” With that, I slapped myself across the face. “Lady Seraphina and my husband are simply business associates. It was my strong jealousy that led me to frame her. I am a despicable wretch.” Then I slapped myself on the other cheek. Seraphina trembled, watching me in terror. “Such a terrifying woman! She appears to apologize, but in reality, she’s constantly mocking and threatening!” Someone in the audience shouted loudly, speaking up for Seraphina. She conveniently buckled at the knees, collapsing onto the ground, looking as if she were about to faint. Jack lunged forward, sweeping her into his arms, then glared at me. “Clara, kneel! Apologize properly!” Seraphina, still clutched in his arms, distinctly flashed a look of triumph at me. I suddenly recalled that desperate kneeling in the torrential rain half a month ago, which not only caused my premature labor but also made me the laughingstock of the entire city. Now, under hundreds of lenses, if I were to kneel before Seraphina, I would completely lose all dignity. Jack’s lips curved into a cold sneer. He had someone bring Lady Eleanor’s employee badge from Thorne Holdings and threw it at my feet. The meaning was clear. Obey and kneel, or save my friend’s livelihood. A choice between the two. I raised my head, refusing to let tears fall. My knees slowly descended to the ground. The crowd erupted in murmurs. I spoke, my voice hoarse. “I, Clara Miller, was a student from the impoverished Northern Peaks, aided by the Thorne Charitable Bursary. Years ago, I saved Dowager Countess Thorne’s life.” “It was I who wished to rise above my station, leveraging that debt of gratitude to force Jack Thorne to break off his true affection with Lady Seraphina and take me as his wife.” Jack stared at me in disbelief, as if he hadn’t imagined I would so thoroughly sacrifice my own reputation to validate their connection. And then, the tears I had desperately held back finally streamed down my cheeks. All debts to the Thorne family, cancelled. After the press conference, Jack didn’t see me. Throughout the night, his heart pounded erratically, and his eye twitched incessantly. All he saw before him was my face as I knelt in the pouring rain, and as I knelt before Seraphina at the press conference. A face that had moved from despair to a haunting tranquility. Just as he could no longer bear it and was about to rush out to find me, his secretary burst in. “Lord Jack, something terrible has happened! Lady Clara… she has fallen from the cliffs!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392869”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my husband’s affair, I gave him and his mother a taste of their own medicine—They threw the first punch, after all. 1 In the two months before I discovered his infidelity, Mark, who never cared for grooming, began secretly spraying cologne. A woman’s innate intuition told me he might be having an affair. Just a week prior, he had come home utterly intoxicated. I watched him, insensible with drink, and quickly helped him to bed, then brewed him a sobering broth. It was then that his phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared on the display: [I’m pregnant, Mark! You’re going to be a father! Aren’t you happy?] I unlocked his phone. A torrent of explicit messages and brazen flirtations unfurled before my eyes. I couldn’t believe these words, exchanged with another woman, came from Mark—the husband who had shared my life, who supposedly cherished our child, our home, and me. My hands trembled as I held the phone, reading each piercing word. Tears streamed from my eyes, large drops splattering onto the screen. I clapped a hand over my mouth, terrified my sobs would awaken Mark. I couldn’t fathom that the husband who, to outsiders, appeared utterly devoted and loving, was in fact this kind of man. Finally, I understood why Mark, who had once adored me, had recently grown so critical, his eyes betraying faint disdain and disgust. He had, it seemed, already found a cherished paramour outside our home! I forcefully wiped away my tears, took a deep breath, and compelled myself to calm down quickly. Then, I pulled out my own phone, saving their chat logs, as well as the mistress’s personal information and address. Afterward, I placed Mark’s phone back where it belonged, pretending as if nothing had happened. The next morning, Mark, as usual, sprayed his cologne, preparing to leave for work. I stood by the doorway, holding our son, and asked him: “Will you be home for dinner tonight?” Mark lowered his head, continuing to put on his shoes. He remained silent for a moment. I pressed on: “Tonight’s our son’s birthday. Please come home for dinner!” Mark finally straightened up, merely grunting, “Hm,” without turning, and then left. I watched Mark’s retreating back, my heart turning to ice. That evening, the table was laden with an array of exquisite dishes. Mark sat at the table, holding our son, clapping and singing “Happy Birthday.” I raised the wine glass before me, observing this charade of a devoted father. Mark glanced at me, his face showing impatience, and urged me to begin the meal. “All you’re good for is cooking. And your looks are mediocre at best. Now, after childbirth, you’ve gotten fat and even uglier. You can’t even earn a penny. Tell me, what use are you?” Mark’s words stunned me so completely that I couldn’t react for a long moment. I couldn’t believe those words had come from his mouth. Every past memory, every tender moment, now felt like a performance. At this moment, I finally erupted! I slammed the glass onto the table, pointing at Mark’s nose. “Regretting it now? Did you feed your eyes to the dogs back then?” “Evelyn, please understand your place. Don’t bark orders at me, and certainly don’t point your finger! You’re no longer the pampered lady you once were! If it weren’t for me, you’d be out on the streets, scraping for scraps. This house? Only my word counts here! You do what I say. Otherwise, you can get out!” “Mark, have you forgotten something? This is my house! My parents bought this property for me! What right do you have to tell me to get out?!” “Yours? What do you mean ‘yours’?! Don’t forget, when your family went bankrupt, it was my money that bailed you out! Now you can’t pay it back, so the house is collateral! If it weren’t for you giving the Thorne family a healthy son, I’d have thrown you out long ago!” “You’re utterly shameless! What do you mean ‘your money’? That was my dowry from my parents! After we married, you clung to me like a leech, starving yourself for three days, subtly coercing me into entrusting the money to you! Now it’s ‘your’ money again? You want us to repay a debt, do you? No chance!” Mark’s words at that moment made me want to tear him apart. I had never imagined he could be this kind of person, completely unlike the Mark I once knew. The man before me was utterly despicable and cruel! Mark was about to continue arguing with me, but our son’s frightened cries interrupted him. I quickly snatched our son from his arms, soothing him as I turned and entered the nursery. Looking at my sleeping son in my arms, an idea suddenly sparked in my mind! I would divorce Mark, and I would repay all the hurt and pain he had inflicted on me tenfold, hundredfold, a thousandfold! I would make him suffer dearly! Every night, Mark habitually ate an apple before sleeping. So, under the pretense of slicing his apple, I also prepared a bowl of warm porridge. This was no ordinary porridge; it was a special blend I had concocted. Upon entering the master bedroom, I feigned an apology to Mark, humbling myself and flattering him in various ways. Under my coaxing, he finished the specially prepared porridge. After eating, Mark contentedly licked the corners of his lips, praising my cooking profusely, and asking me to prepare a separate bowl for him every morning. 2 And so, following Mark’s request, I prepared a bowl of my ‘special’ porridge for him every morning. However, beneath my outwardly amiable and gentle demeanor, my plan was unfolding. After Mark left for work, I took our son to my parents’ home. I recounted everything that had happened recently to my mother, Martha. Martha said nothing, but turned into the kitchen, retrieved a packet of fox nuts and water chestnuts, and handed them to me. She said: “Since he’s so fond of other women, you, as his wife, mustn’t be ignorant. It’s just a man; let her have him. Remember, when you go home, don’t argue with him. Just brew these fox nuts and water chestnuts into a broth for him. It will help him ‘strengthen his constitution.’” With that, Martha firmly patted my hand several times, deliberately emphasizing the words “strengthen his constitution.” I understood her subtle meaning and accepted the fox nuts and water chestnuts. After lunch, I left my son at my parents’ house and took a carriage alone to a Muay Thai training hall far from home. That’s right, I enrolled in Muay Thai. Like Mark, I also needed to ‘strengthen my constitution,’ just in a different way. Every day, I shuttled between my home, my parents’ house, and the Muay Thai hall. And I never forgot to prepare the fox nut and water chestnut broth for Mark every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. One day, as I passed by the study, I heard Mark on the phone with his mother, Agnes. He was saying that his mistress was four months pregnant, and he wanted Agnes to come to the city to care for his future daughter-in-law. He also asked Agnes to hold onto the deed to the house for him. On the other end of the line, Agnes’s voice immediately rose several octaves upon hearing “house deed.” She happily agreed. I peered through the crack in the door, seeing Mark about to exit the study. I pretended to be just passing by. Mark saw me approaching and called out. “What is it?! Something wrong?” I asked. “My mother is coming to stay in the city for a while. You can go stay at your parents’ house then!” I looked at him with utter bewilderment. He must have thought I hadn’t understood, so he repeated himself. Before he could finish, I snapped at him loudly, “Why should I go back to my parents’ house? Your mother can come if she wants. Is she some blushing maiden who can’t be seen? This house is enormous, with so many rooms; isn’t that enough for just her? Does she need me to move out too? Is she an octopus, needing a room for each leg?!” I no longer spoke to him with my former meekness. “Oh, what way is that to speak?! I just thought you two wouldn’t get along, alright? What if I go to work and you two start fighting at home?!” “I’m not insane. As long as she doesn’t cause trouble, I won’t do anything to her!” Seeing that I was being difficult, Mark found himself with no recourse and had to let me have my way. Two days later, Agnes, Mark’s mother, arrived at our house, laden with heavy bags, looking travel-worn. The moment she stepped inside, she tried to assert her dominance. Agnes stood at the doorway, extending her dust-laden shoe, subtly indicating that I should bend down to remove it for her. I pointed to the slippers on the floor and said: “Mother-in-law, the slippers are right there. You can change into them yourself.” “I’m old, I can’t bend down.” “Old? Then why are you carrying such heavy bags all the way from the village?” Agnes was momentarily speechless, choked by my retort. I quickly added more fuel to the fire: “If you can’t even bend down to put on shoes, I wonder what Mark was thinking, asking you to come help with the child. I’ll have to speak with him later; he’s truly unfilial!” “Nonsense!” Agnes was flustered, quickly coming to her son’s defense. “Mark… Mark is not unfilial? Mark is the most filial and accomplished child in our village! My Mark, he is the most devoted to me! He promised to buy a grand house and bring me here to live, and hasn’t he done just that?!” The moment she mentioned the house, I immediately flared up. “Mother-in-law, please understand that this house was bought by my parents for me. Mark’s name was added as a mere formality. Under current law, Mark didn’t contribute a single penny; this house has absolutely nothing to do with him.” “How can it have nothing to do with him? What do you, a woman, know! What’s yours is my Mark’s! Husband and wife shouldn’t differentiate between ‘yours’ and ‘mine.’ Besides, what does a woman need so many houses for? In our village, a woman’s words don’t count for much. At home, everything must be decided by the man.” “Yes, Mother-in-law. Tomorrow, I’ll go to Elder Mr. Davies’s house in our village and tell him to marry you quickly! That way, you won’t feel like your words don’t count for much in the village anymore, and you’ll have a man at home to keep you in line.” I retaliated with biting sarcasm. Elder Mr. Davies was an old bachelor in Mark’s village. Ever since Mark’s father passed away, The two of them had often exchanged suggestive glances. Elder Mr. Davies would frequently come under the guise of bringing food to the “widow and orphan,” but secretly, he and Agnes had started an affair. When Mark found out, he chased Elder Mr. Davies for miles with a knife, intent on harming him. After that incident, Elder Mr. Davies never dared to associate with Agnes again. This was a piece of gossip I had overheard when I last returned to Mark’s village. Agnes, after hearing my words, seemed to recall something. She glared at me, and in an instant, her face turned crimson with embarrassment. 3 One day, when I returned from the Muay Thai training hall, I heard sounds of pleasure emanating from the bedroom. I tiptoed to the bedroom door, pressing the doorknob, and quietly opened the door a crack. Peering through the gap, I saw two naked bodies entwined. It was Mark and a woman with long, curly hair, both stark naked, engaged in unspeakable acts. Watching the two of them performing such lewd acts on the bed, I trembled with rage. Just as I was about to burst in and slap them both silly, I remembered my mother’s recent advice: always have evidence. With irrefutable proof, he wouldn’t be able to deny it! I suppressed my disgust, pulled out my phone, and began recording the shameless pair, securing my evidence. Just then, the woman on the bed suddenly asked in a sickeningly sweet voice: “Darling, what’s wrong now? Why are you not performing? You used to last at least half an hour, and now you can’t even make it twenty minutes! Tell me, are you seeing other women while I’m not looking?” “Oh, my little darling, how could I dare mess around behind your back! You’re pregnant now, aren’t you? We have to be careful for the baby’s sake!” “Hmph! Even if I gave you ten times the courage, you wouldn’t dare mess around behind my back! And, have you found that woman’s house deed? You promised me that after I joined you, you’d move me into a house even bigger than this one. Don’t tell me that when the baby’s born, we’ll not only lack a big house, but you’ll make my child and me sleep on the streets!” “Don’t you worry! My little darling, tomorrow I’ll make my mother force her to hand over the house deed. I refuse to believe I can’t handle that old hag!” Hearing Mark and his mistress’s conversation, I finally fully understood that for all these years, he had married me solely for my family’s fortune. Now that my family was bankrupt, he was setting his sights on this house. This house was bought by my parents for me when Mark and I got engaged. At the time, it cost over 400,000 Crowns. Its location was excellent, and if sold now, it would be worth at least 800,000 Crowns. I closed the door, then turned and rushed straight to the attic, where I found the house deed. Mark would never in a million years guess I’d put the deed in the attic. Before the wedding, my mother had warned me to be clever in all things, saying Mark was no easy man to deal with. At the time, I foolishly believed Mark loved me, and that once married, there would be no secrets between us. But fortune is fickle, and I was too naive back then. I never imagined Mark would cheat. Ever since I found out about his infidelity, I became more cautious and secretly hid the house deed in the attic. I took the house deed back to my parents’ home and gave it to my mother, Martha, who hid it in the most secure place in our house. Three days later, I was hanging clothes on the balcony. Agnes, Mark’s mother, approached me with a fawning expression, calling, “Daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law.” I glanced at her, asking coldly, “What is it? Why so affectionate? Our relationship isn’t usually this warm, is it?” “Oh, look at you! We’re family now, what’s all this about good or bad relationships?” “Do you need something?” Agnes pretended to smooth a sheet I had just hung, then said, “Oh, your mother-in-law doesn’t have much to say, just wanted to ask you, you’ve been married to my son for so long, who manages the money?” “Why do you ask?” “No reason, Mother-in-law was just asking. I was chatting with the ladies in the neighborhood, and they said women in the city manage the money, don’t they? So you manage Mark’s money too?” “Not at all. I’m not as fortunate as them. I can’t manage your son’s meager funds.” Hearing this, Agnes’s face grew even more smug. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said: “Actually, your mother-in-law has wanted to say this for a long time. It seems you have some self-awareness. I also think you’re unlucky. Your family went bankrupt just a few years after you married. Your parents should have had a son back then, why a daughter? She’ll just be a money-losing commodity when she marries! Look how lucky my son is! He’s a general manager at a young age, and lives in such a grand house!” “Your son is lucky, but whether he can afford such a grand house depends entirely on the blessing of this ‘money-losing commodity’! Otherwise, for a country boy like him, he’d work his whole life and never afford such a grand house!” “You…” Agnes, furious, was about to retort, when she suddenly remembered something and instantly changed her demeanor. “Yes, yes, Evelyn, you’re right. My Mark owes all his success today to your blessing. If it weren’t for you, my Mark wouldn’t even have a wife by now.” “Mother-in-law, just say what you want directly! No need for all these twists and turns, beating around the bush.” “Then your mother-in-law will be direct, alright? It’s about the house deed, you have it, don’t you?” “Yes, I do! What about it?” “It’s nothing much, just that I see you work hard with the child. Such a valuable thing as a house deed should be entrusted to your mother-in-law for safekeeping!” “What? Did I hear that right! Mother-in-law! Why should I entrust the house deed to you! You didn’t pay for the house, and besides, wouldn’t it be safer somewhere else than in your hands?!” “Hmph, what way is that to speak, girl! You’re refusing a toast and asking for a penalty, are you? Since you married into our family, you must obey your in-laws, obey your man! Your man is your sky! And you dare not defy the sky, or you will be struck by lightning!” “Oh, so I married into your family to suffer tribulation, did I? And be struck by lightning? If your son is so powerful, tell him to try and strike me down!” Agnes’s face turned beet red with rage. She grabbed the clothes hanger, intending to strike me, muttering furiously, “You little wretch, are you rebelling now? If you upset me, tomorrow I’ll tell Mark to divorce you!” “Divorce then! Divorce! If we divorce, this house won’t have a single penny to do with him! Go ahead and hit me. After you’re done, I’ll immediately get a medical report and call the Royal Bailiff to have you arrested, and you can rot in jail for life!” Agnes flinched when she heard me threaten to call the authorities. She immediately stopped her movements. She certainly didn’t want to end up in the jailhouse just for trying to get a house deed. She quickly forced a yellow-toothed smile and said, “Mother-in-law was just scaring you, dear. How could I ever hit you! Look how precious you city girls are, a mere scare and you want to send your mother-in-law to jail! If people in our village found out, wouldn’t they laugh at the wife our old Thorne family married?!” “Good that you know. This is a lawful society now, not your village where you can just hit people as you please. Hitting someone will cost you money and a jail sentence!” I glared at Agnes, snatched the clothes hanger, and turned to leave. 4 That evening, Mark called to say he wouldn’t be back for dinner; he was meeting with a client. I simply said, “Oh,” and hung up. After dinner, I received a call from Lady Eleanor, inviting me to a tavern. I left my son with Agnes, changed my clothes, and went out. Upon arriving at the tavern, I spotted a man whose back resembled Mark’s. I quietly approached and, indeed, it was him! He stood near the entrance, chatting merrily with a few other men. I trailed them. After watching them enter a private room, I discreetly noted the room number. Half an hour later, estimating the time, I found an excuse to tell Lady Eleanor I needed to step out for a moment. When I reached Mark’s private room, I pushed open a crack in the door, observing the suggestive atmosphere inside. A woman was wrapped around Mark’s neck, sitting on his lap, her hands roving over his body. In a short while, the woman and Mark were openly engaged in intimate acts in front of everyone. Seeing this, the others in the room also followed suit. I pulled out my phone and recorded the entire scene. “Hello! Is this the Royal Bailiff? I want to report a public disturbance at The Golden Bell Tavern, room number 111. There’s an illicit gathering in progress.” I hid in the darkest corner of the stairwell, watching as the Royal Bailiff burst into the room and took Mark and the others away. I handed a tip to a tavern servant, asking him to call the mistress and inform her to collect him from the precinct.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392868”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During a snowy photoshoot, my boyfriend, Lucas, wanting to amuse his idealized crush, Seraphina, suddenly grabbed me and executed an over-the-shoulder throw. “Just a joke, look at your silly face, haha!” That day, Seraphina Vance’s smile was the most beautiful she’d ever captured. Mine, however, was shattered. My right hand was broken, and I would never again wield a surgical scalpel. Later, Lucas developed a rare disease. The only doctor in the entire country capable of performing the specific surgery he needed was me. The moment he threw me to please his “white moonlight,” he didn’t just break my hand; he broke his own life. 01 It was a rare heavy snowfall in Arcadia City. After lunch, I was strolling through the hospital with a few colleagues when we stumbled upon Seraphina Vance, who was photographing the snow. During our student days, she was known throughout medical school as the cold, distant beauty, her personality even more frigid than the surgical scalpel she wielded. She never smiled. She was the unattainable goddess for countless male students. “Dr. Vance!” a male colleague called out, handing Seraphina a hot coffee to warm her hands. “It’s freezing out here, why are you alone?” “Thank you. I prefer solitude,” Seraphina replied, turning away dismissively. Her skin, kissed by the sunlight, seemed dusted with a thin layer of frost, luminous and ethereal. Everyone wanted a group photo under the snow-laden trees. So, I pulled out my phone, took on the role of photographer, bending low to find the perfect angle and distance. My fingers traced the air as I counted down: “Three, two…” Just as I reached the final count, a sudden whoosh of wind swept past my ear. My boyfriend, Lucas Reed, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. With a boisterous laugh, he hoisted me up from my bent position, and slammed me down with a vicious over-the-shoulder throw, my right shoulder crashing towards the ground! Thud! “Look at that silly face of yours, hahahaha!” I plunged into the deep snow, the buried tree roots beneath me trembling subtly from the impact. Snowflakes cascaded from the branches, swirling like something out of a fairytale. And then, Seraphina Vance, in a rare, breathtaking moment, broke into a wide, radiant smile, stunning everyone present. 02 Why would Lucas do that to me? Was he deliberately trying to humiliate me, just to elicit that knowing smile from Seraphina? And what had I done wrong to deserve it? My mind went completely blank for several seconds. It was only when a wave of profound injustice and fury began to surge through me that I realized my entire right shoulder felt numb, my right hand utterly lifeless. All I could manage was a choked gasp: “Help…” “Wow, Dr. Vance, this photo is absolutely stunning! I’ve known you for seven years and this is the first time I’ve seen you smile!” Lucas, meanwhile, had picked up my phone and, like a child presenting a prized toy, proudly shared the picture with everyone. “He’s right, Dr. Vance should really smile more, it’s truly beautiful!” “Lucas, quick, help your girlfriend up! How could you do that?” Lucas laughed, dismissing their concerns. He knelt in the snow and began to dig me out. “Skylar and I are always playing around; we’re like buddies. She’ll be fine…” His words died in his throat as his gaze suddenly met my dull, lifeless eyes. When he dug a little deeper and saw my grotesquely twisted right arm, a wave of pure panic washed over him. 03 “I’m so sorry, Skylar, I was just joking… I didn’t mean to…” My right shoulder had been pierced by a sharp branch or root, bleeding profusely, and I was rushed into the emergency room. The Chief of Staff and the hospital’s Deputy Director, who had just finished a grueling shift, their faces turning grim when they saw me, followed close behind to oversee my emergency treatment. Lucas clung tightly to my left hand, his eyes rimmed with red, frantically wiping the melting snow from my face. He trembled uncontrollably, a picture of desperate fear. He was stopped at the door of the operating theater, and in the last second before the doors swung shut, I looked at him, my voice eerily calm, and uttered a single word: “Get out.” 04 When I regained consciousness in my hospital room, Seraphina Vance was speaking quietly with the nurse, inquiring about my medication. The room was heavy with the sickly sweet scent of plum blossom essential oil, so cloying it even masked the antiseptic. On my bedside table, Seraphina’s phone lay, its screen still on. She had posted that snowy group photo to her social media. Lucas Reed was the first to like and comment: “You should really smile more, Dr. Vance. You’re beautiful when you smile.” I stared for a few seconds, a cold realization settling in. Then my gaze drifted to the medical chart beside the phone. Whether it was carelessness or deliberate intention, Seraphina had left my chart there, easily accessible. As a surgeon myself, I understood the contents immediately. My right hand would never again wield a scalpel. 05 The crisp rustle of paper was eerily loud in the quiet room. Seraphina glanced back at me, coolly retrieved the chart, and said nothing. Though we shared the same mentor and were now colleagues, our interactions had never been close. Seraphina rarely engaged with men, and even less so with other women. We had nothing to say to each other. “Skylar, are you awake? I’m so sorry, so, so sorry.” Lucas Reed’s voice broke the silence of the room. He had just come off an all-night surgery, his handsome face slick with sweat. His tall frame cautiously approached my bed, and he gently took my left hand, still separated by the blanket. “I just wanted to play a joke on you, Skylar, I really did. I’m so sorry.” “I’ve already informed your parents, don’t worry!” “…You just have a fracture, a small surgery in a few days. Our old Chief of Surgery will perform it himself, and I’ll be there too. Your right hand will definitely recover!” Lucas’s voice trailed off, trembling like a bewildered child. He lowered his head, repeatedly stroking my fingers. Seeing my silence, he managed a strained, shaky smile, then with trembling hands, pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “Oh, look at my memory! Actually, yesterday, I wanted to propose to you.” 06 Seraphina Vance had silently slipped out at some point. Lucas’s gaze burned with a desperate, feigned passion. “Arcadia City has never seen such beautiful snow. I just wanted to propose to you amidst it all… First, I’d annoy you, then surprise you with the proposal. You know, like they do online. I honestly just wanted to play a joke! I’m so stupid, I deserve to be punished. I promise it will never happen again!” But the box held a very ordinary ring, showing no sign of careful thought or preparation. Did I believe him? Lucas seized my numb, unresponsive right hand. “Marry me, Skylar Greene.” The air was terrifyingly silent, so quiet I could almost hear the steady drip of medication into my IV line. Suddenly, I laughed. Lucas immediately sagged with relief, pressing his cheek against my hand, nuzzling like a fawning puppy. “Look at you, pathetic fool.” I used my good left hand to grab a handful of his hair, my eyes cold and sharp. “Still thinking about proposing at a time like this? You should be heading to the police station to give your statement. You deliberately assaulted me.” “You provoked me for a proposal? Don’t make excuses for your mistakes. Back then, all you cared about was humiliating me and making your goddess happy. Do you think I’m an idiot?” “Furthermore, the people you should apologize to most are my patients. They painstakingly waited for their surgery slots, specialized procedures that only Professor Sterling, at ninety-six, and I could perform in the entire country. Now my hand is useless. Who will help them now?” 07 Lucas’s mouth gaped open, speechless with shame at his lies being exposed. The quiet hospital room was left with only me. The water stains from melted snow spread slowly across the ceiling, like my own future, hazy and directionless. Closing my eyes, the hopeful, expectant faces of my patients flashed rapidly through my mind. How would I explain this to them now? “Honestly, Lucas, it’s not your fault. Accidents are unpredictable. Skylar is just a young woman; you need to coax her more. She’ll come around once she understands.” My eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice. Seraphina Vance was standing just outside my room, comforting Lucas. “Perhaps this is why I dislike closeness with anyone. I can’t bring myself to take out my frustration on innocent people. Should you unconditionally blame your boyfriend just because he is your boyfriend? I find that kind of hysterical woman rather distasteful.” I honestly thought I was hallucinating. What the hell was Seraphina yapping about? Lucas let out a heavy sigh, his voice hoarse. “Dr. Vance, you’re right, I understand. Regardless, it’s all my fault. I love her; I can’t be as clear-headed and rational as you.” “Dr. Vance, you care about Skylar too, don’t you? Coming to sit by her bed yourself. I thank you on Skylar’s behalf. You should go rest now.” Through the slatted blinds, I could vaguely see Seraphina standing before Lucas. Lucas helplessly rubbed his face, and then, with a reverent tenderness, leaned against Seraphina— “Thank you, Dr. Vance.” …I expressionlessly picked up the phone. “Hello, 911? I’ve been maliciously assaulted by a colleague, and I suspect they’re attempting murder!” 08 Lucas Reed and I met in college. If there was anything that truly drew me to him, it was perhaps his genuine sincerity. He was utterly transparent with me, supporting me unconditionally in everything, like a loyal, clumsy dog, wagging its tail furiously for its owner. I never had to question his feelings; I just needed to slowly teach him how to love, how to navigate a relationship… But now, I no longer wanted to spend my life raising a boy. He could give me his sincerity, but his soul would forever tilt towards that sacred, incorruptible goddess. He made me sick to my stomach. My parents rushed to the police station. After learning the full story, they fully supported my decision. What kind of “joke” makes you throw your girlfriend over your shoulder without hesitation? He had destroyed my career. And afterwards, he had the audacity to tell my parents that I had simply “accidentally slipped” at the hospital and injured my arm. 09 Facing all my accusations, Lucas Reed didn’t offer a single word of rebuttal, accepting any punishment. In the end, it was the hospital’s Director and Chief of Surgery who stepped in to mediate, hoping to keep the incident from escalating. Lucas was facing indefinite suspension, and his lawyers were negotiating a settlement, only asking that he avoid jail time to prevent a negative image for the hospital. Furthermore, my ninety-six-year-old mentor, Professor Sterling, was still hospitalized and comatose, and no one wanted to upset the old man by making a big fuss. A settlement? Fine. Then Lucas Reed had better prepare his money. The hospital quickly arranged surgery for me, urging me to focus on recovering my right hand and nothing else. But on my first day of hospitalization, the nurses’ station erupted into an argument over overtime. With two surgeons out of commission in the surgical department, all shifts and surgeries had to be rearranged, leading to a massive increase in workload. Seraphina Vance, passing by on her rounds, stopped at the nurses’ station, her voice like ice. “Complaining won’t help. If you nurses are tired, don’t you think the doctors are too?” “It was merely an accident, and your Dr. Greene just threw a tantrum and escalated things, causing her boyfriend to be suspended too. Don’t blame anyone but herself.” “Don’t mind me for being blunt, I’m just stating facts.” 10 The nurses at the station froze. She hadn’t been present, didn’t know the full story, and yet Seraphina Vance, the aloof goddess who notoriously avoided gossip, spoke with such conviction that her words were naturally compelling. As Seraphina turned to leave, I swiftly rushed forward and grabbed her wrist— “Dr. Vance, speak plainly. Stop with the passive-aggressive remarks. What do you mean I escalated things?” “Look closely, I was the one who was harmed! If it were you, if your boyfriend threw you for no reason, breaking your arm so you could never hold a scalpel again, and then tried to claim it was just a joke, an accident, wouldn’t you be furious? Wouldn’t you demand accountability? Then you must be a saint in disguise!” The nurses’ expressions shifted. I pulled out the group photo, placing it on the table. “Dr. Vance was right there. When Lucas threw me, you were smiling so incredibly radiant! What was going through your mind? Were you really that happy?” Seraphina’s slender body swayed, and she bit down hard on her lower lip, the blood slowly draining from her face. She was about to speak when a sudden powerful shove from behind sent me sprawling. Lucas Reed had positioned himself between us, shielding Seraphina behind him. “Skylar, Dr. Vance doesn’t understand all this backstabbing between women! Just say less. This whole thing is my fault.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392867”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my husband’s death, his grieving parents suggested his twin Owen take his place as my husband and the baby’s father. My sister-in-law Celeste was furious, calling me shameless before fainting in rage. That night, I went to talk sense into my in-laws—but overheard my mother-in-law ask, “Liam, why did you claim you died when it was Owen?” His sigh was heavy. “Celeste can’t know the truth—her weak heart wouldn’t survive it. I only married you to help her be with Owen. Now that you’re pregnant, we’re even. I’ll live as Owen and care for Celeste forever.” The horror hit me: my “late husband” wasn’t Liam—it was Owen. At breakfast, I calmly announced, “You wanted me to move on? I will—by ending this pregnancy.” The man feeding Celeste suddenly stood up. 1 The funeral for my husband, Liam, was a blur of grief. Soon after, a new shock: I was pregnant. For this child, I forced myself to suppress the suffocating pain in my heart, terrified that my despair would somehow harm the tiny life growing inside me. But Liam had always had fertility issues, a low sperm count. This pregnancy was excruciatingly difficult. Every day meant injections to protect the fetus, and I vomited so relentlessly I often came close to blacking out. In just over a month, I’d wasted away, losing twenty pounds, a mere shadow of my former self. Eventually, my in-laws couldn’t bear to watch my suffering. They urged me to let go of the baby, to forget Liam, and to embrace a new beginning. But I refused them every time. Liam had been so good to me; how could I possibly give up our child? Truth be told, my initial engagement had not been to Liam, but to his older brother, Owen. However, just before the wedding, I was abducted and subjected to horrific abuse for three days and nights. Owen, deeming me “tainted,” broke off the engagement and married Celeste Chen instead. It was Liam who rescued me from my tormentors, battered and bruised. He’d taken multiple stab wounds himself, yet he clung to me fiercely, his grip unyielding. He knelt before my father, his gaze unwavering, declaring his long-held love for me and his desire to make me his wife. For years, everyone had said he was madly in love with me. And under his tender care and gentle affection, I had slowly, painstakingly, mended the deep scars within my soul. But our happiness was fleeting. Just three years into our marriage, he died in a car accident. My world crumbled. For a time, I’d wanted nothing more than to follow him to the grave. It was this child that reignited my will to live. Our baby was his only bloodline, his last legacy. I swore I would keep this child, even if it cost me my own life. Seeing my resolve, my in-laws ceased their attempts to dissuade me. But the very next day, during lunch, they dropped a bombshell. They proposed that Liam’s twin brother, Owen, should take on the responsibilities for both families – to care for me and the child in my womb. I was about to voice my immediate refusal when Celeste Chen suddenly snapped. She slapped me across the face, screaming accusations of shamelessness. Celeste had always been frail, and before I could even explain myself, the sheer force of her rage overwhelmed her. She fainted. Owen, my supposed brother-in-law, merely frowned, shooting me a look of displeasure, before cradling Celeste in his arms and rushing her out of the room. 2 Celeste’s slap had caused me to bleed, threatening the fragile life within me. I was confined to bed for two days before I felt even marginally better. I bore no ill will towards Celeste. Given my past engagement to Owen, her jealousy was understandable. Besides, setting aside the deep love I had for my husband, Liam, even if our relationship hadn’t been strong, my in-laws’ suggestion was utterly ludicrous. Neither Owen and Celeste, nor I, would ever agree to such an arrangement. Feeling a pang of guilt for having caused Celeste to faint, I made my way to my in-laws’ room as soon as I could stand. I planned to persuade them to abandon this preposterous idea, to never mention it again. And after convincing them, I intended to personally apologize to Owen and Celeste, to reassure them. But as I approached their door, my steps faltered. I heard my mother-in-law’s voice from within, laced with confusion: “Liam, it was clearly your brother who died. Why on earth did you insist it was you?” Liam? Wasn’t that my husband’s name? He wasn’t dead?! The man who died in the car crash… it was his older brother, Owen? I felt as if struck by lightning, my eyes wide, frozen in place. This… how was this possible? I vigorously shook my head, convinced I was hallucinating. But then, the man’s voice confirmed my worst fears. “Mom, Celeste must never know about this. She’s always been so delicate, with a weak heart. If she knew it was my brother who died, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.” Owen—no, I should call him Liam. My husband, Liam. He paused, then sighed again. “Besides, Celeste was always the one I truly loved. My marriage to Elara was merely a means to facilitate Celeste’s union with my brother. Now, I’ve given Elara a child; I don’t owe her anything more. From now on, I will take my brother’s place and care for Celeste for the rest of our lives. Please, don’t ever bring up that idea of me taking on responsibilities for both households again. It would only upset Celeste.” 3 “But Elara has suffered enough already!” my mother-in-law protested, her voice pleading. “To sabotage her engagement to your brother, to ensure Celeste and your brother could be together, you had Elara abducted for three days and nights, subjecting her to unspeakable trauma. Now she’s finally started to heal, and she’s carrying your child. It’s only right that you look after her, at least a little…” But Liam cut her off impatiently. “Enough, Mom! To ‘compensate’ her, I ignored the mockery of being labeled a cuckold and willingly married her. I devoted myself to caring for her for three years, helping her overcome her trauma. Isn’t that enough? Do you want me to spend my entire life paying her back? Mom, I’ve suffered for three years, pretended for three years—I’ve had enough! Living with her, every single day has been torture! Now, fate has given me a chance to return to Celeste’s side, and I refuse to let this opportunity slip away…” They said more after that, but I couldn’t hear it. My body felt chilled to the bone, and my chest felt as if a knife had plunged into it, twisting with unbearable pain. Stumbling back to my room, I saw my reflection: I was trembling uncontrollably, my face streaked with tears. So, the man who died in the car accident wasn’t my husband at all. It was his brother, Owen. And Liam’s devotion, his gentle affection these past three years – it had all been a lie. The woman he loved, from the very beginning, was Celeste, just like his brother. Even worse, the person who had orchestrated my abduction and torment was Liam himself. His motive? Simply to ensure Celeste could marry Owen. If they didn’t want to marry me, they could have broken off the engagement honorably. But instead, they chose to destroy me! And the most pathetic part? I had mistaken this monster for my savior. I was even prepared to risk my life to bear his child… 4 Though I tried desperately to calm myself, the hatred and fury raging within me still brought tears to my eyes. The next morning, I descended the stairs, my eyes swollen and my face deathly pale. I saw Liam carefully tending to Celeste, feeding her. They were nestled close, a picture of sickening intimacy. From a distance, they looked like a perfectly awful pair. I clenched my fists, the sharp pain in my palms bringing a cold clarity to my mind. Soon, Celeste noticed me. A flicker of triumph crossed her eyes when she saw my disheveled appearance. Then, as if to provoke me, she buried her head in Liam’s chest, whining playfully. Liam, his entire focus on Celeste, continued to dote on her, utterly oblivious to my presence. I lowered my gaze, watching his adoring smile directed at Celeste. A bitter, hollow laugh echoed in my mind. This kind of affection – I had never once seen it in three years of marriage. I gently touched my belly, then calmly settled into a dining chair. I began to eat, picking out the most nutritious items, forcing myself to consume every bite. I would terminate this pregnancy, restore my health, and then make those who had hurt me pay, tenfold! Once I’d eaten my fill, I calmly wiped my mouth. Across the table, Liam had finished serving Celeste. He finally lifted his head to look at me. Seeing my swollen eyes and pale face, he paused, a momentary flicker of guilt crossing his features, likely assuming I was still grieving his supposed death. But then his face hardened, and he spoke, his tone displeased: “Elara, I know you’re deeply saddened by Liam’s passing. But I will not agree to take on responsibilities for both households. My heart belongs only to your sister-in-law, Celeste. I can’t spare a single ounce of affection for you.” Celeste’s eyes gleamed with even greater triumph. Yet, she feigned concern, saying, “Elara, you didn’t cry all night because my husband refused to take on those extra responsibilities, did you? I’m so sorry, I was too impulsive yesterday. But… but I truly love my husband, and I can’t give way on this…” As she spoke, her frail body trembled, and her eyes welled up again. She clutched her chest, appearing utterly distraught. Liam was overcome with sympathy. He scowled at me, a warning in his gaze, then gently embraced Celeste, comforting her. “Celeste, don’t worry. I will only ever love you. I’d sooner die than touch another woman.” 5 How utterly ironic. Then what about the child in my belly? Was it conjured out of thin air? Still, he was, in a sense, “dead” to me. I suppressed the bitter ache and burning rage in my heart, turning away from the sickening display of their affection. I forced myself to nod, feigning indifference. “You can rest assured. The idea of taking on responsibilities for both households is absurd, and I would never agree to it.” Liam looked at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. I looked up to see my in-laws descending the stairs; they too had overheard my words. Their expressions were etched with concern as they gazed at my pale face and swollen eyes. My mother-in-law spoke, her voice hesitant, “Elara…” I looked at them, my emotions a tangled mess. Since I’d married into this family, they had indeed treated me well. Their sympathy over the past few days felt genuine. But then I remembered: they knew everything about Liam orchestrating my abduction and torment. They had simply kept it from me. My feelings for them became incredibly complicated. The words “Mom and Dad” stuck in my throat. “You heard me. The idea of taking on responsibilities for both households is absurd. I don’t agree.” My mother-in-law, perhaps recalling Liam’s words from yesterday, finally gave up trying to persuade me. She merely sighed. “I know, Elara, you have deep feelings for Liam and can’t forget him. You certainly wouldn’t agree to this. But, your mother-in-law truly sympathizes with your plight…” She paused, glancing at Liam, then continued earnestly, “Elara, Liam is gone, but you’re still alive. One must always look forward. Your mother-in-law still wants to advise you: don’t dwell on him forever. Move on, start a new life.” Liam and Celeste, having heard my refusal to the “two households” arrangement, visibly relaxed. Their expressions softened. Liam, however, looked at me with a new, complex gaze. Listening to his mother’s words, he too began to feign concern, offering hypocritical advice: “Elara, Mom is right. Liam is gone. No matter how deeply you love him, you are now separated by life and death. There can be nothing between you. In the future, you still have a life to live. It’s best to forget him soon. It’s good for you, and good for him. Fortunately, he left you a child, a glimmer of hope. Even without him, you can still live your life with his child. For the sake of the baby in your belly, you must be strong and move on.” Listening to Liam’s pompous pronouncements, I couldn’t help but inwardly sneer. A child? He still expected me to bear his child? Delusional! My heart was filled with mockery, but on the surface, I maintained a facade of gratitude, playing along with their words. “You’re right. I thought about it all night yesterday and finally understood. Before, I was truly stuck in a rut, causing you all to worry. And since Liam had fertility issues by birth, and this pregnancy is so difficult, it must be fate’s decree that his bloodline should end. So, I want to follow fate’s will, listen to your advice, terminate this pregnancy, completely let go of him, and remarry to start anew.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392866”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel