Author: Momo Chan

Waiting for my vasectomy, I found a top-voted post: “What’s the cruelest revenge on a man?” The top answer: “Pretend to be his best friend, then steal everything he’s proud of.” “I did this to my childhood friend. His parents see me as their real son, giving me a higher job than him. His wife—his high school sweetheart—gave me her first time in his newly renovated home. His kids? Mine. They call me ‘Daddy.’ With one word, she got him to agree to a permanent vasectomy. Idiot.” “Perfect. Now he’ll never have kids.” Comments were mixed, but many asked: “Why destroy him?” The poster admitted: “He was better than me at everything, always arrogant. I hated him. So I took over his life—piece by piece.” “Right now, he’s alone at the hospital, waiting for surgery. Meanwhile, I’m with his wife, planning to use this box of condoms tonight.” His latest photo showed a thirteen-pack of Magnums on my bedroom nightstand. 1 The moment I saw that photo, my blood ran cold. I finally realized that the pathetic fool pitied by over a hundred thousand people… was me. And the person who wrote that post was, without a doubt, the man I’d considered my best friend my whole life: Marcus Finch. “So what if you all flame me? You can talk trash online, but in the real world, I’m the one driving a Bentley, living in a mansion, and sleeping with another man’s beautiful wife. My life is straight out of a power fantasy novel!” Marcus was completely unfazed by the criticism, even taunting his detractors. “It’s anonymous anyway, so no one knows who I am. Might as well show you something even better.” He posted another picture. A woman in a bunny costume was sitting at her vanity, her back to the camera. Her figure was enough to drive any man wild. And on her shoulder blade was a small, peach-blossom-shaped birthmark. “Holy shit, so you weren’t bluffing? Your buddy’s wife is a knockout. Drop her number, I wanna be his buddy too!” “It’s a shame to keep a woman like that all to yourself. I mean, her husband’s already wearing one green hat, what’s a hundred more? Share the love, bro!” My hands were trembling with rage as I read the disgusting comments under the photo. On countless nights of passionate lovemaking, I had traced that birthmark on Sophie’s shoulder with my kisses, believing it was a delicate flower that bloomed only for me. But now, that flower had been exposed in the most vulgar way, subjected to the lewd jokes of thousands of men. A fire burned in my chest, the blood rushing to my head. And at that exact moment, a young nurse walked up to me with a clipboard. “Mr. Lucas Vance? It’s your turn for the procedure. Please bring your medical chart and follow me to the operating room.” Before she could finish, I had already ripped the chart into pieces. “I’m not doing it. Call the next person.” My face was a mask of cold fury. I stood up and walked away, dialing Sophie’s number as I went. She had told me her mother was sick and that she needed to stay with her tonight, which was why she couldn’t come with me to the hospital. I tried video-calling three times before she finally picked up, but she left her camera off. “Honey, why are you calling so late? Is the surgery over?” Sophie’s voice was a little breathless, with a hint of playful complaint. “You can’t fool me, you know. I’ve already given you a son and a daughter, I really don’t want any more.” “If you truly love me, you’ll go through with this completely. And you have to get a certificate from the doctor proving you’re permanently sterile!” 2 I didn’t even need to listen closely to know what was happening on the other end of the line. The fire in my chest roared hotter. I opened my mouth to confront her. But the words died on my lips. I couldn’t show my hand yet. They had been planning this for years; a direct confrontation would only hurt me. I clenched my jaw, forcing the inferno inside me down. “It’s done over here. Don’t worry about it.” Sophie’s voice instantly brightened, filled with unconcealed joy. “I knew you loved me most, honey. I’ll be sure to reward you properly when you get home.” Then, in a hurry, she hung up. With the rage forcibly suppressed, I drove home. As I pushed open the door, I heard the cheerful chatter of my son and daughter from the living room. They were laughing about something, full of life. They heard the door and turned, calling out in unison, “Daddy!” But when they saw it was me standing in the doorway, their smiles vanished. Their lips pressed into thin lines, their eyes filled with disappointment. They didn’t even move toward me. They just turned back to each other and started whispering, as if I were a complete stranger. The sight sent a familiar, sharp pain through my heart. It had always been like this. No matter how hard I tried to be a good father, my efforts were met with emotional indifference. But whenever Marcus was around, even if he did nothing at all, the children would flock to him. I had felt lost because of it, even jealous, but Sophie always comforted me, saying that kids were just like that with their fathers when they were young, and they’d grow out of it. Thinking back on it now, I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. How could I have been so stupid? The signs were all there, but I had been deceiving myself, refusing to look closer. Normally, even with their coldness, I would have walked over with a smile, pulling out the gifts I’d bought to win them over. I could never bring myself to scold them, even when they threw tantrums. But now, I didn’t even look at them. I ignored their reaction completely, changed my shoes, and sat down on the living room sofa. A few moments later, the bedroom door opened, and Sophie walked out. Her hair was still damp against her neck, and a complex scent clung to her. I knew exactly what had happened here while I was at the hospital. She saw me and immediately smiled, turning to the nanny. “Mrs. Davis, could you take the children down to the garden to play for a while? Make sure they’re safe.” The nanny nodded and led the reluctant children out the door. The living room fell silent. Sophie walked over to me, leaning in close, her warm breath brushing against my ear. “Honey, I have a surprise for you. Come to the bedroom with me?” I glanced up at her, silent for a few seconds, then stood and followed her into the bedroom. The moment we were inside, Sophie untied her robe. It fell to the floor, revealing the bunny costume from the photo. The tight outfit clung to her curves, and the peach blossom on her shoulder seemed to mock me. It was a sight that once would have sent a thrill through me. But today, my stomach churned. A wave of intense nausea washed over me, and I frowned. “I just had surgery. It’s not a good time.” I spoke coolly. Sophie’s smile froze for an instant, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. But she quickly composed herself, putting on a caring facade as she approached me. When I didn’t move, she didn’t get angry. She just cooed softly. “It’s okay. I know you might be uncomfortable right after the procedure, but you can just bear with it.” “Didn’t the doctor say it wouldn’t affect anything? I want you right now…” 3 Sensing my coldness, Sophie paused, then turned and took a box from the drawer, holding it out to me. “Honey, I had someone bring this back from abroad for you. It’s a special supplement, perfect for your current condition. It’ll help you recover faster.” I glanced at the box. The packaging was exquisite, covered in a foreign script I couldn’t read. The seal was clearly broken. Someone had already opened it. I remained indifferent, neither taking it nor speaking. Sophie’s patience was wearing thin. The smile faded from her face, and her tone became tinged with annoyance. “Honey, I know you did this for me, but you can’t treat me like this.” “I went to all this trouble to get you supplements and prepare a surprise, and this is how you act? If you don’t want to see me, I’ll just leave.” With that, she feigned hurt, grabbed her robe, and stormed out of the bedroom into the guest room. I took out my phone and searched for the brand name on the box, but no matter how much I looked, I couldn’t find any information. On a whim, I went back to the forum post. Marcus had updated it. “She’s going to go greet my idiot friend wearing that bunny costume. I didn’t even have her wash it first. The thought of it is just hilarious.” A comment immediately appeared below. “Dude, didn’t your friend just get a vasectomy? You’re making his wife wear that, but will he even be able to perform?” Marcus replied quickly: “Don’t worry, I already prepared a special supplement for him. Check out the picture.” He attached a photo of the exact same box Sophie had just given me. “This stuff is from the Middle East. It’s a potent aphrodisiac, the kind they give to studs at stud farms. I guarantee he’ll be able to get it up tonight.” “I just wonder if he’ll lose his mind when he finds out what he’s taking.” Someone tried to warn him: “Dude, don’t take it too far. You could kill him.” But Marcus was cavalier: “So what if he dies? He’s a useless waste of space anyway. But don’t worry, I have another surprise in store for him. I can’t let him die just yet.” The commenters went wild, begging to know what the surprise was, but Marcus was enjoying the suspense. “Be patient. You’ll all find out soon enough. I promise it’ll be spectacular.” I stared at the screen, a strange sense of curiosity rising within me. What was this “surprise” Marcus was talking about? He had already pushed me this far. What other tricks could he possibly have up his sleeve? I took a screenshot of the post and sent the link to a hacker, asking him to trace the IP address and identity of the user. Half an hour later, the results came back. It was, of course, Marcus himself, and the address was his residence in the city. After backing up all the evidence, my phone rang. It was my father. I answered, and his voice came through, sharp and angry. “Lucas! What the hell are you doing? Why did you upset Sophie again?” “Tomorrow is my sixtieth birthday. On such an important occasion, you’re causing trouble at home. It’s disgraceful!” I frowned but said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “I don’t care what your reasons are. Go to the guest room right now and apologize to Sophie. I will not have her feeling wronged in this house again!” With that, he hung up. I didn’t need to guess what had happened. Sophie had been playing her games again. I opened the family group chat and scrolled up. It didn’t take long to find the source.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390911”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Married for three years, I ran into my runaway ex-fiancé outside my OB-GYN appointment. “Nina, are you still mad? I’m back to marry you.” Declan blocked my path, as arrogant and self-assured as ever. I instinctively shielded my stomach, my eyes filled with confusion. “Excuse me, sir, do I know you…?” He let out a patronizing sigh. “Alright, you can stop the act. Wendy is afraid of the dark, and she needed me to stay with her in the Arctic for three years before she was ready to come back.” “The moment it was over, I flew straight back to find you. You should be flattered.” I looked at the “wild man” before me, with his scraggly beard and frostbitten face. Seriously, where did he get this confidence? Did no one tell him that the day after he left me at the altar, I married his powerful, influential uncle? … “Nina, stop messing around. Come home with me.” Declan frowned, reaching out to grab my arm. His hand was covered in sores, the fingernails caked with some unidentifiable grime. A faint, stale fishy smell wafted from him. I flinched back, covering my nose and mouth. My stomach churned. “Don’t touch me! I’m a germaphobe.” Declan’s hand froze mid-air, his face instantly darkening. He probably still thought of himself as the dashing young heir to the Crawford fortune. He had no idea that after three years in the Arctic Circle, his unshaven, chapped-skin appearance made him look like a caveman. “Nina! That’s enough!” Declan snapped, his voice edged with anger. “I know you’re mad I ran out on our wedding, mad that I went to the Arctic with Wendy, but she was dealing with psychological trauma!” “She’s afraid of the dark! The aurora borealis was the only thing that could cure her. Can’t you have a little compassion for someone else’s suffering?” I almost laughed out loud. Afraid of the dark? And you cure that by going to the Arctic, where the polar night lasts for half the year? Wendy’s illness sounded like it needed a dose of common sense, not the Northern Lights. Before I could say anything, Wendy peeked out from behind him. She took off a pair of heavy goggles, revealing red-rimmed eyes. “Nina,” she said, looking at me with pitiable eyes. “Don’t blame Declan.” “It’s all my fault. My health is just so poor, I can’t be left alone. If you need to hit someone, hit me. Don’t work yourself up.” As she spoke, she let out a few fake coughs and swayed, collapsing dramatically into Declan’s arms. Declan, consumed with worry, wrapped his arms around her and shot me a furious glare. “Nina, it’s been three years. Haven’t you grown up at all? Still so jealous. How do you ever expect to marry into the Crawford family acting like this?” I rolled my eyes. Did these two freeze their brains in the Arctic? This was the entrance to the obstetrics and gynecology department. I was here for a prenatal check-up. And they, having just returned to the country, hadn’t even showered before rushing to the hospital to… get their heads checked? I shielded my belly and stared at the bizarre pair. “Declan, I think you’ve made a mistake.” “I’m not here to welcome you back, and I have no time to play out some long-lost lovers reunion scene.” “Now if you’ll excuse me, get out of my way.” Declan was stunned. He probably never imagined that the timid Nina who used to follow him around like a puppy would ever have the nerve to call him out like that. He narrowed his eyes, and his gaze fell on my swollen belly. His pupils contracted sharply. Then, a look of incredulous joy spread across his face. “Nina… you’re pregnant? Is it mine?” He was trembling, a sure sign his frostbite was acting up. “I knew it! I knew you couldn’t live without me! That night, three years ago…” “I was drunk, but I vaguely remember we…” He seemed to be lost in some self-aggrandizing fantasy. “No wonder you were waiting for me here. No wonder you never remarried…” “Nina, you’ve been through so much. You kept my baby a secret all this time, just to surprise me, didn’t you?” I was floored by his logic. Three years. It takes three years to birth a mythological deity, not a human child. Had he ever read a book? Did he have even a basic understanding of human biology? “Declan, besides watching the aurora, did you also happen to freeze your brain into a slushie?” I pointed at my stomach, exasperated. “I’m only five months along. You’ve been gone for three years. Did you impregnate me via telepathy?” The smile on Declan’s face froze. He stared at my belly as if trying to solve a complex math problem. Three years minus five months equals… No matter how he calculated it, the child couldn’t possibly be his, but he clearly refused to accept it. “Impossible! Who else would you marry? Everyone in this city knows you’re the woman Declan Crawford cast aside! Who would dare marry you?” Wendy chimed in, fanning the flames. “That’s right, Nina. Don’t just find some random guy to have a bastard with just to spite Declan.” “You’ll not only ruin yourself but also bring shame to your family.” “If you just admit your mistake and get rid of this child, Declan loves you so much, he’ll definitely forgive you.” Hearing this, Declan immediately put on a magnanimous air. “That’s right, Nina. If you get rid of this bastard and come home with me, I can pretend none of this ever happened.” “After all, I was the one who left you at the altar. I made you suffer. We’ll call it even.” I took a deep breath, my fists clenched. I really wanted to smack both of these delusional narcissists. Just then, a black Maybach pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing the stern face of our driver, Mr. Henderson. “Ma’am, Mr. Blackwood is still in a meeting. He asked me to take you home first.” Declan’s eyes lit up. “See! And you said you weren’t waiting for me!” “That’s the Crawford family car! Even Henderson is here!” Declan pushed past me and, pulling Wendy along, tried to get into the car. As he walked, he continued to lecture me. “Alright, stop pretending. You obviously had the family driver come to give me a proper welcome back.” “This car is a bit old for my current status, but since it’s a gesture from you, I’ll condescend to ride in it this once.” His actions startled Mr. Henderson. He stared at the foul-smelling man bundled up like an Eskimo, not recognizing him at first. “Hey, hey! What do you think you’re doing? If you’re begging, go somewhere else! Don’t get the master’s car dirty!” Declan’s face turned beet-red. “Henderson! Are you blind? It’s me, Declan! The Crawford heir!” Mr. Henderson paused, then seemed to recognize his tone. “Master Declan?” he asked, his voice full of doubt. “Did you… take up coal mining in the Arctic? Why do you look like this?” Declan was shaking with rage. “Cut the crap! Open the door! Wendy’s freezing!” He tried to force the car door open. Wendy added, “Mr. Henderson, Declan is the sole heir of the Crawford family. How can you speak to him like that?” But Mr. Henderson just locked the doors with a resounding click, his expression one of pure disdain. “Master Declan, I’m afraid you can’t ride in this car.” “Mr. Blackwood has a thing about cleanliness. With that smell on you, I’d have to spend three days cleaning it. Besides, I’m here to pick up the madam. I don’t have time to chauffeur you.” Declan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “The madam? Nina hasn’t even married into the family, and you’re already calling her that? Grandfather is spoiling her rotten!” He turned to me, his eyes full of accusation. “Nina, did you bribe Henderson? Did you get him to play along with this charade?” “Let me tell you, putting on airs like this before you’re even married… you’re in for a rough time once you join the family!” I ignored him and walked to the rear passenger door. Mr. Henderson’s expression immediately changed to one of respectful deference. He got out and opened the door for me, carefully shielding the top of the doorframe with his hand. “Ma’am, please be careful.” I got into the car, and the window slid up, sealing me off from the cold air and those two nauseating faces. Declan was still outside, banging on the window. “Nina! Get out! I am the Crawford heir! I should be riding in this car!” “Where is Wendy supposed to sit? She’s so frail!” The car began to move. I lowered the window a crack and shot back coldly, “If she’s so frail, she should go to the emergency room. And don’t bother going to the Crawford estate. There’s nothing for you there.” I raised the window. The Maybach sped away, leaving them in a cloud of exhaust fumes. In the rearview mirror, I saw Declan kick a nearby trash can in a fit of rage, then hop around on one foot like a pathetic clown. When I got back to the estate, I had just changed my clothes when the two of them arrived. I have no idea how they got in. The guards probably saw a faint resemblance in his ruined face and didn’t dare stop him completely. As soon as he entered the living room, Declan plopped down on the sofa like he owned the place. The pristine leather was instantly smeared with mud. The butler, Mr. Wallace, frowned. “Master Declan, you’re…” Declan waved a dismissive hand, adopting the air of the man of the house. “Wallace, go prepare some bird’s nest soup for Wendy. The finest quality, and add extra sugar. She doesn’t like bitter things.” “And get me a clean set of clothes. This gear is too heavy.” Wendy huddled beside him like a frightened quail. “Declan, maybe this isn’t a good idea… I don’t think Nina likes me very much…” Declan sneered. “This is the Crawford estate. I am the future master of this house! Who is Nina to give me attitude before she’s even married in?” “Just wait until Grandfather gets home. I’ll tell him everything!” Just as he was speaking, I came downstairs in a loose-fitting lounge dress, holding a glass of warm milk.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390910”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The Grand Bay Bridge project was the talk of the nation. And my wife was letting the new summer intern swap out high-grade explosives for blue fireworks. I tried to stop it, but the intern just shoved a termination letter in my face. “Who the hell are you to question me? Just some grunt,” he sneered. “Do you have any idea who my girlfriend is?” With a flick of his lighter, he set fire to the bridge blueprints—three years of my life’s work. “Blue fireworks are just the start,” he bragged. “When this bridge is finished, it’s gonna have my name on it!” My eyes locked onto his left hand, onto the ring he wore on his fourth finger. It was my wedding ring, the one that had vanished without a trace three months ago. I just smiled and calmly pulled out my phone to call the National Bridge Authority. “I hear the Grand Bay project has been handed over to a private contractor,” I said into the phone. “In that case, you can count me out.” 1 After hanging up, I looked up just in time to see Derek tossing the rest of the architectural plans out the window. He casually lit a cigarette, his eyes raking over me with pure contempt. “You could call God Almighty himself,” he said, blowing smoke in my direction. “You’re still getting thrown out of here today.” I watched the papers, my life’s work, flutter down into the water below, the ink bleeding as they became useless pulp. My fists clenched. I lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar. “Do you have any idea what you just threw away? You couldn’t pay for that with a hundred lifetimes!” Before I could do anything else, security guards had me by the arms, hauling me out and dumping me on the floor outside the conference room. Derek strolled out and flicked his cigarette ash onto my face, his laughter loud and arrogant. “It’s just a few pieces of paper. Only a nobody like you would get so worked up.” “I’m the director in charge, hand-picked by Ms. Stone herself. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of my sight.” His words sent the rest of the team in the conference room into a fit of laughter. “Derek is a top graduate from a prestigious university. A few blueprints? He could whip those up in his sleep.” “Yeah, and he’s Karina Stone’s future husband! He’s the boss’s man. Firing a barking dog like you is nothing!” Ignoring the sharp pain in my knees, I stared up at the smug face of Derek and spoke, each word deliberate. “Karina’s husband?” “I dare you to have her come here and say that to my face.” I couldn’t believe it. The woman who had slept in my bed last night, the woman who had promised we would go public with our secret marriage as soon as the Grand Bay project was officially underway… was now Derek’s fiancée? Derek deliberately flashed the ring on his finger, a triumphant smirk on his face. My eyes widened. Because the ring on his hand was the one I had custom-designed for my proposal. There wasn’t another one like it in the world. But my ring had gone missing three months ago. At the time, Karina had comforted me, suggesting I might have left it somewhere at my desk during a late night of work. I had searched every inch of my workspace, over and over, but found nothing. Now I understood. The ring, along with her heart, had been given to another man. How could I ever have found it? Derek’s cold sneer came from above. “Who do you think you are? You think my girl would waste her time coming down here for you?” “But hey, if you want to keep your job, I’ll give you a chance. Get on your knees, bow three times, and swear you’ll never question my decisions again. Then, maybe I’ll let you stay.” I remained standing, my gaze sweeping over the sycophants standing behind him. “The blasting work on the cliffside is no joke. Every ounce of explosive was precisely calculated. Making last-minute changes, let alone using blue fireworks, could jeopardize a national project. Are any of you prepared to take responsibility for that?” My question silenced the room. Only Derek remained unfazed, scoffing. “Alex, cut the crap. You’re just trying to scare everyone.” “You’re just jealous Karina gave me this project, so you’re trying to drag my name through the mud.” “Don’t forget, I’m her man. Even if something goes wrong, she’ll have my back!” Just then, the office door swung open. Karina Stone stood in the doorway. 2 The moment Derek saw her, he immediately put on a victim act. “Karina, you’re finally here! Alex is publicly questioning my plans! He even threatened to have me kicked off the project.” Karina’s cold gaze fell on me, her voice devoid of any warmth. “Alex, who gave you the authority to fire my people?” I tried to explain. “First of all, I didn’t try to fire him. He tried to fire me. And second, his material budget is completely unreasonable.” “Karina,” I pressed, “are you really going to let your boy-toy turn this into a death trap that will endanger innocent people?” The words were barely out of my mouth when her hand swung through the air. The sharp crack of her palm against my cheek echoed in the room, leaving a stinging, red imprint. “A filthy mind sees filth everywhere,” she hissed. “Derek is a top architectural graduate from Yale. He’s a genius I personally recruited at great expense. How could there possibly be a problem with his plans?” “You, on the other hand, are spreading malicious rumors out of sheer jealousy. You owe Derek an apology. Now.” I poked the inside of my cheek with my tongue, a bitter taste flooding my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time Karina had defended me so fiercely. A top graduate from Yale? Funny. As a visiting professor at Yale’s School of Architecture, I had never once heard the name Derek. She had no idea. The only reason her company, Stone Construction, was even the primary contractor for the Grand Bay Bridge was as a favor to me. The board wanted me on the project, and this was the easiest way to do it. She’d used my influence to get ahead, and now she was ready to kick me to the curb? Before I could process it all, Karina had walked over to Derek, her voice soft and doting. “Don’t you worry. As long as I’m here, no one gets to question your talent.” Derek put on a deeply wounded expression. “Karina, maybe it’s better if we just let Alex take over the project. After all this slander, how am I supposed to build a career in this industry?” His words only made Karina more protective, and her glare at me intensified. “Alex, if you want to stay at this company, you will apologize to Derek this instant!” “Otherwise, pack your things and get out!” Seeing how fiercely Karina was defending Derek, the other employees didn’t hesitate to start kissing up to him. “Ms. Stone, you have no idea. Alex has been throwing his weight around for weeks, acting like he owns the place just because you two are close!” “Exactly! Derek earned his position with real skill, unlike some people who just like to ride on others’ coattails.” Listening to their accusations, Karina’s expression grew even colder. “Alex, you’re completely out of control! You helped me with one small project, and suddenly you think you can walk all over the experts I hire?” “If I let you keep this up, you’ll run my company into the ground!” Her eyes narrowed. “From this moment on, you are no longer the chief engineer of this project. You’re Derek’s assistant. You will report directly to him and follow his orders, and his alone.” I looked at the woman I had spent the last five years of my life with and let out a bitter laugh. To help her company gain a foothold in the industry, I had turned down countless offers from top firms, both domestic and international. I’d even pulled strings with my family to help her land this massive, high-profile bridge project. And what did I get in return? My beloved wife was sleeping with some two-bit intern who had appeared out of nowhere. She’d even given him our wedding ring. Karina was now whispering intimately with Derek, her eyes filled with admiration and affection. Every so often, Derek would shoot a triumphant glance my way. Noticing I was still standing there, motionless, Karina’s tenderness vanished, replaced by sharp impatience. “Well, Assistant Ryder? Are you just going to stand there? Apologize to Director Collins!” In that moment, something inside me died. I met her gaze, my voice flat and steady. “Karina. Let’s get a divorce.” 3 Karina froze for a second. Then, a strange, unreadable emotion flickered in her eyes. “Alex, are you sure about this? You’re the one asking for it. I’m not forcing you.” I immediately understood the implication. She’d wanted this all along. She was just waiting for me to be the one to say it. No wonder she’d been so brazenly favoring Derek. A self-mocking smile touched my lips. “I’m sure.” The next second, she strode into her office and returned with a file, which she tossed onto the table in front of me. “In that case, sign it.” I opened it. Just as I suspected, it was a divorce agreement, already drafted and waiting. Her signature was already at the bottom in neat, confident script. As I read through the terms, my brow furrowed tighter and tighter. “Karina, you want me to walk away with nothing?” She looked at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s right. You leave with nothing. Alex, those were your own words, on our wedding day.” “Since you seem to have forgotten, allow me to refresh your memory.” She turned on the projector, and a short video played on the wall. There I was, in my wedding tuxedo, holding a bouquet, my face beaming with pure happiness. A voice from off-camera asked, “Alex, what if one day you do something to hurt Karina, or what if you’re the one who asks for a divorce?” My voice in the video was firm, unwavering. “That will never, ever happen.” “Come on, all men say that!” the voice teased. “You have to make a real promise, on camera!” I turned to look at Karina, radiant in her white dress, a vision of perfection. Tears of joy were glistening in my eyes. “If that day ever comes,” I declared, “I will walk away with nothing but the clothes on my back.” “Karina Stone, I love you. I will only ever love you.” The video ended, freezing on that final frame. Karina tapped a manicured finger on the conference table, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Alex, you’re not going to deny something you said yourself, on camera, are you?” I stared at the frozen image on the wall. The two of us, gazing at each other, with nothing but love in our eyes. But in the room, the real her stood beside another man, backing me into a corner. When that video was made, I truly believed Karina and I would grow old together. It turns out, what I thought was a lifetime was only five short years. The other employees now looked at me with a mixture of pity and scorn. Derek, on the other hand, could barely contain the greedy excitement in his eyes. “Karina.” My voice was eerily calm now. “As you wish. I’ll leave with nothing.” “And one more thing. I’m officially withdrawing from the Grand Bay Bridge project.” After signing the papers, I turned to leave, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of that room. “Stop.” Karina’s sharp voice cut through the air. I paused but didn’t turn around. “Alex, the project has already started. You can’t just walk away whenever you feel like it. The personnel list has already been filed with the National Bridge Authority. If you go out there spreading lies and slandering me and Derek, who’s going to take responsibility for the fallout?” “What do you want?” “You can leave, but only after the NBA officially approves your withdrawal. Until then, you will stay here and do your job as Derek’s assistant.” I whipped around, my eyes wide with disbelief. Taking everything I owned wasn’t enough? She wanted me to stay and endure Derek’s daily humiliation too? Derek gave me a malicious, triumphant smile. “Well then, Assistant Ryder. I look forward to working with you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390909”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The sales associate, who I knew had a crush on my boyfriend, publicly accused me of being a gold digger. “I saw this young lady in here yesterday,” she announced to the whole store, her voice dripping with fake concern. “She came in with two different men, one after the other.” “She didn’t just try on the most expensive items; she even made her sugar daddy come into the dressing room to ‘help’ her with her zipper.” “Oh,” she said, turning to my boyfriend with wide, innocent eyes. “Didn’t you know about this, sir? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” “But I just couldn’t bear to see you being played for a fool. I even have pictures.” She held up her phone, displaying a blurry photo of someone’s back, trying to seal my fate with her fabricated evidence. But she had no idea. Those two men were my brother and my father. And this boutique? It was my eighteenth birthday present from my dad. … The moment my boyfriend, Nathan, and I walked in, a sales associate rushed to greet us. She feigned a warm welcome, cleverly maneuvering to separate us before zeroing in on him. “Good afternoon, sir,” she cooed. “Is there anything I can help you find today?” If I remembered correctly, her name was Brenda. She came from the roughest part of town; her father was a notorious drunk, and her mother scraped by collecting cans. When my assistant first showed me her application, she noted Brenda was underqualified. But her story moved me, and out of pity, I told my assistant to hire her. I never imagined I was inviting a viper into my own house. My father gave me this boutique for my eighteenth birthday. I’ve never had the time to manage it myself, so my assistant handles everything. As a result, none of the staff knew who I was. But from the second we’d stepped inside, Brenda’s eyes had been glued to Nathan. Anyone would have thought she was the one in love with him. Not that I could blame her. At six-foot-three, with a perfect model’s build and a handsome face, Nathan turned heads wherever he went. Swallowing my irritation, I stepped forward. “Excuse me, I was in your dressing room yesterday and I think I left a pocket watch behind. Has anyone turned it in?” “Hello?” I repeated. Brenda finally, reluctantly, tore her gaze away from Nathan. “A what? No, haven’t seen it,” she snapped dismissively. Her attitude was stunning. I had come in yesterday to buy a gift for Nathan’s parents. We were going to meet them for the first time to discuss our engagement, and I wanted to make a good impression. But the new fall collection had caught my eye, and I’d ended up trying on an outfit. I distinctly remembered taking off the watch—a gift from my father—and hanging it on the hook inside the dressing room. How could it just be gone? I took a deep breath and tried again, my patience wearing thin. “I’m certain I left it in the dressing room. Could you please just double-check for me?” Sensing my disbelief, Brenda sauntered over to the counter and tapped a few keys on the computer for show. “Ma’am, we’ve checked our logs. There’s no record of any lost watch.” I could feel my jaw tighten. She hadn’t even tried to look. But before I could press her further, Nathan stepped between us. “Aurora, are you sure you didn’t misremember?” he asked, his voice low. “Are you positive it was here?” He glanced around at the racks of designer clothes. “I hear a single dress in this store costs thousands. You’re just a recent graduate. Can you even afford to shop here?” “Maybe you’ve mistaken this place for another store?” 2 The smile vanished from my face. Nathan and I had met during freshman orientation and had been inseparable ever since. He was perfect—athletic, top of his class, and handsome. His only “flaw” was his modest background, but I never cared about that. To protect his pride, I had carefully hidden my own family’s wealth. He thought I was just an ordinary girl, and he never once looked down on me for it. He would always hold me close and whisper, “Aurora, I love you. I’m going to work so hard to give you the best life imaginable.” I believed him with all my heart and promised to be his forever. After four years together, I thought I knew him inside and out. I was planning to go to his parents’ house tomorrow, gifts in hand, and then introduce him to my father. I was going to ask Dad to find him a good position at our company. In this economy, landing a job at a major corporation was next to impossible, but I wanted to give him that future he dreamed of. But now? The man who had always trusted me implicitly, who had never once raised his voice to me, was looking at me with suspicion in his eyes. He was doubting my word. Pushing aside my hurt, I focused on the problem at hand. That watch was my graduation present from my father. I had to get it back. Suddenly, Brenda spoke up, her voice laced with faux reluctance. “Actually… this lady was in the store yesterday.” “It’s just that…” She hesitated, darting nervous glances at me. Nathan’s brow furrowed. “Just what?” Brenda stammered, “Well… she came in with two different men, at different times. Not only did she try on our most expensive pieces, but she used the excuse that she couldn’t get her zipper up to have one of the men follow her into the dressing room to ‘help’ her.” She looked at Nathan with wide, pitying eyes. “You said she’s just a recent graduate. Could those two men… be her sugar daddies?” The color drained from Nathan’s face. He bought her story completely. “What men? Two of them?” He whirled on me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Aurora, you better have a good explanation for this!” A chill went through me. I had believed our four-year relationship was unbreakable. Yet here he was, choosing to believe a sales clerk he’d just met over me, spitting accusations in my face. The disgust and impatience in his expression hit me like a physical blow. I took a few deep breaths and let out a cold laugh. “You’re accusing me of having ‘sugar daddies’? Where’s your proof? You know slander is a crime, right?” Brenda swallowed nervously but quickly pulled out her phone and showed it to Nathan. “I have proof! I took pictures. One was wearing a blue suit, the other a gray one.” She leaned in, adding more fuel to the fire. “I even saw her kiss the man in the gray suit! Right on the cheek! He looked like he was in his fifties, at least. It was disgusting. I can’t believe she’d stoop so low.” The photos were blurry, completely unrecognizable. But Nathan stared at them as if they were gospel truth. I dug my nails into my palms, a throbbing pulse starting at my temples. I was seconds away from slapping that smirk off her face. “Two blurry photos are all it takes to convict me?” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Fine. Pull the security footage. Get your manager down here. Let’s see who those two men really are.” But before I could take another step, Nathan’s hand flew through the air. The crack of his palm against my cheek silenced everything. “Enough!” he roared. “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?” “I always thought you were so pure, so innocent. But it turns out you’re just another gold digger.” “And one sugar daddy isn’t enough for you? You need two?” I stood there, stunned, the sting on my cheek radiating through my whole body. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, and I didn’t recognize him. Two blurry photos, and he had nailed me to a cross, branding me a whore. What did our four years mean? It was a joke. A pathetic joke. Those two men were my brother and my father. I had done nothing wrong. Why wouldn’t he let me prove my innocence? Seeing my silence, Brenda thought I was scared. She puffed out her chest like a victorious rooster. “The pictures are crystal clear. We don’t need any security footage. I bet you made up that whole story about the lost watch just to cause trouble for our store!” The commotion had attracted a crowd of onlookers, who were now pointing and whispering. “She looks so sweet and innocent. Who would have thought she’s a gold digger?” “You can’t judge a book by its cover. A lot of young girls take shortcuts these days. It’s not surprising she has a couple of rich old men on the side.” “Poor boyfriend. The guy has no idea he’s been cheated on twice.” While the crowd was distracted, I pulled out my phone. My father and brother were in a board meeting, but this couldn’t wait. I quickly sent them a text. Brenda seized the opportunity to add to the drama, her voice rising to a shout. “I’ve seen plenty of gold diggers like you working here! I’ve seen shameless women, but you take the cake!” Rage surged through me. I took several deep breaths, but I couldn’t quell the fire in my chest. “What did you just say? Slander is a crime. If you’re so sure, let’s call the police and have them investigate.” At the mention of the police, a flicker of fear crossed Brenda’s eyes. She shot a desperate, pleading look at Nathan. He exploded. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. “You’re a gold digger and you have the nerve to call the cops? Isn’t this humiliating enough?” His words felt like a hand closing around my throat, squeezing the air from my lungs. Before I could react, Brenda lunged forward, snatched my purse, and dumped its entire contents onto the floor.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390908”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The day the true heiress, Lydia, came back, she threw everything out of my room. “I’m the real daughter of this family. You, the imposter, can get the hell out.” “Oh, and before you go,” she added with a sneer, “you can pay back the money you’ve cost my family for the last twenty years. Let’s call it half a million a year. Ten million dollars. Wire it directly to my account.” I silently held out my phone, displaying a QR code for the Heir Verification System. “Of course, Miss Lydia. But before we get to that, you’ll need to join the queue and await identity verification.” Lydia slapped my phone away. “Evelyn Ashworth, who the hell do you think you are, trying to stop me from reuniting with my parents?” “I’m not stopping you,” I explained patiently. “I’m just asking you to follow the process. There’s a line.” But Lydia, desperate to claim her new life, wasn’t listening. “You think someone like me waits in line? Just wait until I find Mom and Dad. You’ll be thrown out onto the street where you belong.” What Lydia didn’t know was that four hundred and ninety-nine people had come before her, all claiming to be the long-lost Ashworth heiress. My parents, overwhelmed, had long ago delegated the entire verification process to me. … Lydia cornered my mother by the elevators, just as she was leaving a board meeting. “Mom!” she cried, dropping dramatically to her knees. “It’s me! I’m your real daughter!” My mother didn’t even glance down. Her assistant, Alex, stepped forward immediately. “Miss, if you wish to make a claim, please use the online booking system.” Tears streamed down Lydia’s face on cue. “Mom! Please, just look at me! My life has been so hard…” My mother finally looked up. She checked her watch. “Thirty-six seconds. Five seconds slower than last month’s girl. Not a record-breaker, kid.” Lydia froze. “What?” My mother pulled out her tablet and swiped a few times. “Candidate YM37, Lydia, age twenty-two. Resides in a low-income apartment complex on the east side. Both parents deceased, completed university on a scholarship.” The color drained from Lydia’s face. “You… you investigated me?” My mother patted her shoulder. “The acting’s not bad, but the script is stale. I suggest you watch episode eight of The Heiress Swap. That girl gave a much more convincing performance.” And with that, she was gone. At three in the afternoon, my father was doing his rounds at the Ashworth Department Store. Lydia appeared again, this time with a new strategy. “Dad!” she called out, holding up a photograph. “Look, I looked just like you when I was a child!” My father took the photo and examined it. “Nice photoshop job,” he said dryly. “But next time, remember to make the ears smaller. The Ashworths don’t have ears that big.” Lydia grew frantic. “But this is really me!” “Kid,” my father sighed, “last year, someone came to us with an AI-generated deepfake video. The technology was far more professional than this.” He handed the photo back to her. “Go find Evelyn. She handles these things.” Lydia stomped her foot in frustration. “Dad! How can you be so heartless?” “Call me Mr. Ashworth,” he said, not even turning back. At eight that evening, my grandmother’s private jet landed. Lydia had been waiting in the VIP arrivals lounge for hours. “Grandma!” she cried, kneeling and bowing her head to the floor. “I’m your real granddaughter!” My grandmother, still groggy from the flight and the time difference, squinted at her. “What number is this one for the year?” Her bodyguard replied, “The fifty-seventh, ma’am.” Grandma nodded. “Does she have an appointment?” Lydia was stunned. “N-no…” “Then that won’t do,” Grandma said with a wave of her hand. “Last year, a girl knelt at the airport for three days straight before we made an exception and squeezed her in.” She had the bodyguard help Lydia up and tucked a business card into her hand. “Here’s my granddaughter’s contact info. Schedule an appointment first.” Lydia looked down at the card. It read: Evelyn Ashworth, Head of Heiress Claims. Her face turned a sickly shade of green. 2 The next day, Lydia stormed into our house. “I want a DNA test!” she slammed her hand on the table. “Now! Right now!” My parents exchanged a weary glance. “Honey,” my mother began, “it’s not that we’re unwilling…” “You’re scared, aren’t you?” Lydia sneered. “Scared the test will prove I’m the real one.” My father rubbed his temples. “We had our blood drawn thirty times last year. We’ve already done it fifteen times since January. My doctor says I’m on the verge of becoming anemic.” Lydia was speechless. I walked in, carrying a tray of tea. “Actually, there are other ways.” “What ways?” she eyed me suspiciously. “Hair or nail clippings,” I said. “The technology is very advanced now; a blood sample isn’t always necessary.” Lydia’s eyes lit up. “Then let’s do it now!” I smiled. “We can. But you’ll still have to wait in line.” “What line?” “There’s a monthly quota for my parents’ hair and nail samples. This month’s is already full. There are over two hundred samples ahead of you in the queue for testing. The earliest slot for yours would be next month.” Lydia exploded. “Evelyn Ashworth! You’re doing this on purpose!” I shrugged. “I’m just following procedure.” Lydia couldn’t wait. She paid twenty thousand dollars to a scalper for an expedited appointment slot. This got her into the “Token Authentication Room” on the third floor. She strode in, head held high like a proud rooster. “I have the keepsake!” she declared, pulling out half of an ornate silver locket. “The nurse at the hospital gave this to me back then! It’s one of a kind!” The staff member, a young man named Kevin, took the locket and scanned her appointment barcode. “Candidate YM37, Lydia. Keepsake category: Locket.” Kevin read from his screen. “We currently have 287 items registered under the locket category.” Lydia’s smile froze. “How many?” “287,” Kevin confirmed, pulling up the data. “143 of them are halves, and 144 are complete.” “That’s impossible!” she shrieked. Kevin offered a polite smile. “It started with two halves that fit together. Then it evolved into quarters. He gestured to a website on his monitor. “Now we even have a ‘Locket Shard Jigsaw Puzzle’ service. Ninety-eight dollars, free shipping.” Lydia looked like she was going to be sick. I patched my voice through the room’s intercom. “Miss Lydia, your locket appears to be a ‘standard edition.’ Market value is about three hundred and eighty dollars.” Lydia whipped her head around, searching for the camera. “Evelyn Ashworth! You set me up!” “It’s called market research,” I replied cheerfully. But she wasn’t done yet. “I also have a birthmark!” She pulled down the collar of her shirt. “A butterfly on my left shoulder! It’s unique!” Kevin sighed and pulled up another database. “Of the 500 ‘heiress’ candidates who have registered this year, 108 claim to have a butterfly-shaped birthmark.” Lydia’s eyes widened. “How many?” “108,” Kevin repeated, enlarging the data visualization. “76 on the left shoulder, 32 on the right.” “But mine is different!” Lydia insisted. “It has a special shape!” Kevin nodded. “Yes. Candidate #43, Candidate #87, and Candidate #201 said the same thing.” He clicked through a gallery of photos. “#43’s butterfly has spots, #87’s has stripes, and #201’s is, and I quote, ‘rendered in 3D.’” Lydia’s lips trembled. “Impossible…” I couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “Miss Lydia, perhaps you should add a tattoo? Tattoos are now being accepted as potential authenticating marks.” Furious, she hurled her teacup against the wall. “You’ll have to pay for that,” Kevin said, instantly printing an invoice. “Custom-ordered porcelain. Two thousand, eight hundred dollars.” She still wouldn’t give up. “I look just like Mrs. Ashworth when she was young!” she pointed at a portrait on the wall. “Look at me!” Kevin sighed again and turned on the projector. An image of another young woman appeared on the screen. She didn’t just resemble my mother; she was a stunning mix of my mother, my father, and even my grandmother. “We refer to her as the ‘Family Portrait Composite,’” Kevin explained. “She won last year’s ‘Most Ashworth-like’ award.” 3 Lydia was quiet for three days. But I knew she was plotting something. Sure enough, she showed up at the Ashworth family’s quarterly gala. Halfway through the evening, a piercing shriek cut through the chatter. “My necklace is gone!” Lydia cried, clutching her throat. “It was a birthday gift from my foster mother!” The entire ballroom fell silent. All eyes turned to her. Lydia sobbed, “It was right here just a moment ago…” Her gaze swept the room before landing squarely on me. “Miss Ashworth,” she said, her voice trembling, “you were just in the powder room, weren’t you?” I raised an eyebrow. “I was.” “Well…” she hesitated for dramatic effect, “could I… could I just take a look inside your purse?” A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd. My mother frowned. “Young lady, what exactly are you implying?” Tears welled in Lydia’s eyes again. “Mom, I don’t mean anything by it, I just want to find my…” I laughed, cutting her off. “Fine,” I said, handing her my clutch. “Be my guest.” Lydia took the purse and made a show of rummaging through it. Then, with a theatrical gasp, she “accidentally” tipped it upside down. Its contents spilled onto the floor. Lipstick, keys, a phone. And a glittering diamond necklace. “I found it!” Lydia exclaimed. “This is it!” She snatched the necklace and stared at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “Miss Ashworth, why would you…” “Lydia,” I interrupted, my voice calm and clear. “Do you know why the Ashworth ballroom is equipped with 128 security cameras?” She froze. “What?” I pulled out my phone and played the surveillance footage on a nearby screen. The video clearly showed Lydia sneaking up behind me and slipping the necklace into my open purse. “Over the past three years,” I announced, pulling up a file from our database, “a total of 47 ‘heiresses’ have attempted this exact stunt.” A staff member near the stage chimed in, “This marks the 48th time. Can we please get some new material?” I picked the necklace up from the floor. “And another thing… I bought this last week. I still have the receipt.” I looked directly at her. “Where’s yours?” Lydia’s face was a mask of fury and humiliation. “Is this how the Ashworth family treats their own daughter?” My grandmother let out a cold laugh. “The last person who said that is currently serving a five-year prison sentence.” Lydia fled the ballroom. The next day, the tabloids exploded. #AshworthHeiressInLateNightRendezvousWithRivalExec The accompanying photo showed me helping a man into a car. The angle was deliberately misleading, making it look like we were kissing. I glanced at the source: a notorious paparazzi blogger. I scrolled through the comments. “Here we go again. How many is that this year?” “The last guy who tried to pull a stunt like this had to pay a $5 million settlement.” “Dude, I’d delete this post. The Ashworth legal team is faster than Amazon Prime.” I posted a response on my public social media account: “Thank you, Lydia, for the free publicity on my new green energy project. And for helping me set a new record for the fastest lawsuit filed.” Attached was a photo of the freshly filed court documents. Lydia panicked, deleted the post, and vanished. On the third day, Lydia somehow got her hands on a visitor’s pass and snuck into the company headquarters. She walked into my office carrying a cup of coffee. “Miss Ashworth,” she said, keeping her head down. “I’m sorry about yesterday…” I didn’t take the cup. “Just put it on the desk.” She set it down but didn’t leave. “Is there something else?” I asked. She bit her lip. “Can you forgive me?” I smiled faintly. “You should probably go now.” She turned to leave, her shoulders slumped in defeat. I picked up the coffee, sniffed it, and then pressed a button on my desk console. “Miss Lydia is suspected of attempted poisoning,” I announced into the intercom. “Please escort her for questioning.” Lydia whipped around. “You’re lying! I didn’t do anything!” I pointed at the cup. “Did you know that all Ashworth corporate drinkware is custom-made?” She stared, confused. “There’s a chemical sensor at the base,” I explained, showing her my phone. “It can detect most common substances.” The screen displayed a clear alert: LAXATIVE DETECTED. 23rd attempt this year. Lydia’s face went white. “That’s… that’s impossible!” Security guards rushed into the room. “You can’t do this to me!” she shrieked as they took her arms. I held up a thick binder of files. “I can,” I said coolly. “Based on the eighty-nine individuals who have tried this in the past five years. All of whom were successfully prosecuted.” As they dragged her away, she was still screaming, “Evelyn Ashworth! You just wait! I’ll be back!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390907”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Just as we arrived at City Hall, Dominic leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Actually, I have a child.” He looked at me, his expression earnest. “This certificate… I can’t give it to you. But I can give you everything else.” I stared down at the marriage license application in my hand, my mind blank. It took a long moment before I could force out the words. “Why… why didn’t you tell me before?” Dominic shrugged, a smile playing on his lips that wasn’t quite an apology. “I thought you cared more about me than a piece of paper.” “What if I insist on the certificate?” My lips trembled as I asked. He couldn’t know. Without that piece of paper, he wasn’t just facing a broken engagement. He was facing one body, two lives. … Dominic didn’t answer right away. He just watched me, his gaze calm, as if my question was utterly redundant. After a long silence, he sighed and gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Her family saved my parents’ lives,” he said softly. “They’re old family friends. I love you, Anya, but she has to be my wife.” Rage, bitterness, and despair churned in my chest, a toxic bile rising in my throat. He guided my stunned form into his Maybach, continuing his explanation. “The child… it only happened because they drugged me. My family’s condition for letting you in was that I had to keep the child.” He paused, turning his head to look at me. “Anya, I have no feelings for her.” “You love me, not some piece of paper…” But it wasn’t just a piece of paper. It was my life. It was my right to stand by his side, the only thing that guaranteed the child in my belly could be born. The system’s cold, mechanical voice suddenly exploded in my mind, repeating over and over: MISSION FAILURE: TARGET ACQUISITION FAILED. TERMINATION IMMINENT. YOU HAVE 48 HOURS REMAINING. I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing down the storm of emotions. I clutched his sleeve, my voice a desperate plea. “I don’t care about the other child. I just want the certificate.” Dominic’s face hardened, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. “You want me to risk my inheritance, to go home and start a massive fight to divorce her, all to give you a piece of paper?” “Anya, when did you become so selfish?” With that, he yanked his sleeve from my grasp. The sudden movement felt like a physical blow to my heart. I stared at the reflection of the man in the car’s mirror. He was still the picture of aristocratic grace, his features as handsome as ever. But the tender affection in his eyes had been replaced by a sharp edge of impatience. Tears came faster than thought, splashing onto my open palm. Dominic, seeing my tears, softened. He took out a handkerchief and gently dabbed my cheeks. “I promise you, I’ll be yours. The title of Mrs. Croft will be yours in all but name. Even my assets will go to you and our future children. Stop crying… please?” He spoke words he thought were the epitome of devotion, but they only silenced me further. He thought my obsession with the certificate was about the status and the inheritance it brought. “I’m giving you a choice,” he said, his index finger toying with a strand of my hair. He looked at me with absolute certainty. “Either we proceed with the ceremony as planned, or…” It was the same look he’d given me five years ago when he knelt before me with an armful of tulips, promising me a home. The same certainty that I would never, ever refuse him. Our eyes met. I said nothing. My hand rested on the slight curve of my stomach. I stroked it for a long moment, then nodded. Dominic, I’m giving you a choice, too. Either you be a father to my child, or you can prepare to bury us both. As if to punish me, Dominic dropped me off at my apartment and left immediately. I got into a taxi and followed him to Tulip Hills. The villa, which I had suggested multiple times as our marital home, only to be refused, now held the silhouette of another woman. The moment Dominic’s car stopped, she threw herself into his arms. He expertly scooped her up, carrying her through a sea of flowers glowing in the sunset, before pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. I watched, frozen, from the window of the taxi, tears blurring my vision. The driver, seeing my distress, silently passed me a tissue. “Miss, it’s not a good life, being the other woman…” My lips trembled. I wanted to scream that I wasn’t the other woman. I was the one he loved. But the words that came out were a choked whisper. “Who said they were… husband and wife?” The driver chuckled softly. “In my line of work, you learn to read people. The way that man looks at her, it’s like he’s devouring her with his eyes. Who wouldn’t believe they’re married?” I slowly covered my mouth, tears seeping through my fingers. He was right. Only a fool like me would have believed Dominic’s lies about not loving her. It all made sense now. The few days every month he would disappear. The unanswered calls, his secretary’s feigned ignorance. The way he’d lounge on the sofa, telling me I was being too picky about the wedding details while I was drowning in arrangements for the venue, the photos, the invitations. It made sense why the jewelers looked at me with such pity when he brought me in to design our rings. Why his friends always called me the “little wifey”—I thought it was because I was young, but it was because he already had the real one. It made sense why his parents always looked down their noses at me. Who wouldn’t despise the homewrecker who was ruining their son’s marriage? I pulled my gaze away and wiped my face. “Let’s go, sir.” As the engine rumbled to life, a message from Dominic popped up on my phone. Meeting with a client. Don’t wait up for me. Sleep well. As he typed that message, he was holding her, his eyes soft with a love I now knew was a lie. For the first time, I didn’t reply. I just turned off the screen. The system, I remembered, had given me two targets at the start. If he had just been honest with me, I wouldn’t have clung to him like this. Five years. One thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days. He’d had countless chances to tell me the truth. But he hadn’t. He had just wrapped me in a cocoon of false tenderness. I stumbled out of the taxi, feeling hollowed out. As I looked up, I saw Dominic standing at the door to my apartment, already changed into casual clothes. Seeing the look on my face, he rushed over, taking my coat with one hand and wrapping the other around my waist. I couldn’t stop the image of her, smiling in his embrace, from flashing in my mind. A wave of nausea rolled through me. As he leaned in to kiss me, I shoved him away. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until nothing but bile was left. Dominic pounded on the door, his voice frantic. “Anya! Anya, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” “Open the door! I’ll take you to the hospital!” Involuntary tears mixed with the saliva at the corner of my mouth. I remembered a camping trip, back when we first met. I had a fever of 104. He had been just as frantic then, carrying me barefoot from the mountaintop all the way down to the base. It wasn’t until I was on an IV drip that I saw his feet were covered in blood. I’d told him to get them treated, my eyes red with worry. He had refused, insisting on waiting until I fell asleep. The entire city’s elite envied me for finding such a devoted man. He’d buy out entire auctions for me. Luxury cars and jewelry were delivered like groceries. He had broadcast his proposal on every public screen in the city. He even had my initials tattooed over his heart. The irony was crushing. He was already someone else’s husband, someone else’s father. When I finally opened the door, my composure was back in place. Dominic pulled me into a tight embrace, his voice trembling. “Why didn’t you answer me? You scared me to death…” I pushed away and held out the pregnancy test in my palm. I asked him one last time, my voice deceptively calm. “This child. Are you willing to give him a name?” Dominic stared, then his brow furrowed. He didn’t take the test. There was no surprise, no shock, no joy. Just a complex, scrutinizing look. “Anya. To get a certificate, you’d go this far? You’d fake a pregnancy to trick me?” He grew more agitated as he spoke, not giving me a chance to defend myself. “My mother was right. People from your background… your worldview is just too small.” Without another glance, he swatted my hand away. The pregnancy test clattered to the floor. Like my shattered heart. I instinctively bent to pick it up, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill over. I sniffled, bit my lip, and looked at the man standing under the lamp. “You never trusted me,” I said, my voice shaking. “In your eyes, I’ve always been nothing more than a gold-digger.” “That’s why you feel no guilt, even after deceiving me for five years with a wife and child.” “That piece of paper you dismiss so easily? To me, it represents two lives. Two futures. What’s wrong with fighting for the child I’m carrying, for the five years of love I gave you?” “Dominic, you shouldn’t have done this to me.” I didn’t want to cry. But I couldn’t stop. The tears streamed down my face and into my mouth, a taste more bitter than the death I’d faced from terminal illness in my original world. I clutched the test stick and stared at him. The warm light was the same. He was the same man. But the tenderness was gone from his face, replaced by an expression of utter disbelief. Even his voice was laced with accusation. “Anya, what are you talking about? What lives? What futures?” “I understand you’re angry, but I gave you a choice. You agreed to proceed as planned. Why are you throwing this insane tantrum now?” “First a fake pregnancy test… what’s next? A forged doctor’s report?” As he spoke, he scanned the room, and his eyes landed on a document on my vanity. He shoved past me and snatched it up. Without even looking at it, he ripped it to shreds. As the paper fragments snowed down around us, his voice was tight with suppressed fury. “Take the next two days. And calm the hell down.” His footsteps faded, followed by the slam of the door. I was left frozen in place, still clutching the test stick. Outside, the city lights twinkled. Inside, the proof of my child’s existence lay in pieces on the floor. I knelt, slowly gathering the scraps, trying to piece them back together. But they were too small, too torn. Impossible to restore. Just like us. No matter how much Dominic pretended, he couldn’t change the fact that he was a liar and a cheat. And just like my child and me. No matter how hard I fought, I couldn’t change the fact that his father didn’t want him, and that we were both about to die. The apartment was silent, except for the incessant pinging of my phone. Several messages from Dominic. I’m sorry, Anya. I was angry just now. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. But I don’t want to hear any more of that crazy talk. Just wait, and be my beautiful bride. The dress and rings are ready. The invitations have been sent. I’ve invited hundreds of media outlets. The day after tomorrow, I will make you the happiest woman in the city. Almost simultaneously, a dozen texts came in from an unknown number. Anya, you’re so pathetic. The man you’re so proud of? I’ve slept with him. The wedding dress you’re so excited about? I’ve already worn it. The ring? I’ve tried it on. Do you even know what the day after tomorrow is? It’s my son’s birthday. You’re having your little ceremony on my son’s birthday. Dominic really put a lot of thought into this for you, didn’t he? I stared at the words for a full fifteen minutes. I thought I would be heartbroken, that I would cry. But all I felt was a profound numbness. Dominic, your thoughtfulness deserves a special gift in return. MISSION FAILURE. 12 HOURS UNTIL TERMINATION. I ignored the system’s warning, swinging the hammer in my hand with all my might. The clay figurines we had made together shattered into dust. I took a pair of scissors to the giant wedding portrait, leaving it in tatters. I emptied the closets, donated the jewelry, and threw out the custom-made dolls he had given me. This apartment, the one he used to call our “love nest,” was now an empty, desolate ruin. At 8 PM, right on schedule, Dominic called. “Anya. Tomorrow is our big day. Are you happy?” “I’m at my parents’ house tonight. I’ll go straight to the venue tomorrow and wait for you.” His voice was as calm and confident as ever. He knew my deep-seated craving for a family, a product of my loveless past. He was certain I wouldn’t abandon him now. This was just a routine check-in call. “I’m happy,” I heard myself say, my voice flat and distant. “Good. Get some sleep, rest up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He muffled the receiver, but I could still hear the tinkling laughter of his wife, Seraphina, in the background. I hung up and closed my eyes, letting sleep take me. I paid no mind to the system’s relentless countdown. The next day was bright and sunny. The venue was filled with the city’s elite. I heard someone whisper, “Dominic is so generous. Throwing such a lavish party for a mere mistress…” “It’s not a wedding, you fool, it’s a public declaration. He’s solidifying his position as heir while keeping both women. Don’t you get it?” I acted as if I heard nothing, walking toward the man on the raised platform. Standing beside him was a woman and a young boy—Seraphina and their son. His parents stood behind them. A perfect three-generation family. And I, the bride, looked like the third wheel who had crashed their party. The moment Dominic saw me, his expression changed. “Anya, why aren’t you wearing the white gown?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390906”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The night before my wedding, I walked in on my fiancé and my sister. In the aftermath, a chorus of voices urged me to be the bigger person. “Scarlett, Asher and your sister are in love,” my mother said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Just let them be. Be gracious. Let your sister have him.” “That’s enough, Scarlett,” my father added, his voice weary. “We’re all family here. Let’s not make a big deal out of this.” Even Asher, my fiancé, just stood there with his head bowed, silent. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. That night, I packed a bag and left New York. As I walked out the door, my mother’s final words were a threat. “If you leave today, consider our relationship over. Don’t you ever come back! We won’t be there for you. If you die in a ditch, don’t expect us to claim the body.” I didn’t even turn around. “Fine. Then it’s over.” The wedding went on as scheduled. The only thing that changed was the bride. And for six years, I never went home. … Six years later, I was back in New York. After the awards ceremony at the military base, I ran into Asher Vance again. “It’s been a long time, Scarlett Ross.” The familiar voice stopped me just as I reached the main gate. I looked up and met his eyes. Six years had only made him more handsome. He wore a crisp white shirt, dark jeans, and a black trench coat. His hair was short and sharp, and he stood tall, watching me. “A long time,” I replied with a calm smile. The quietness of my tone seemed to startle him. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Mom and Dad know you’re in town for the ceremony. They’ve made dinner. Why don’t you come by tonight?” The “Mom and Dad” he referred to were my parents. I nodded. “Alright. Six years. I suppose it’s time.” Seeing my agreement, a flicker of relief crossed his face before he turned and left. An hour later, my custom-built Jeep rumbled to a stop in front of the old apartment complex, its rugged frame a stark contrast to the dated buildings. I got out and looked toward the home I hadn’t seen in years. So much had changed. The narrow, old lane was gone, replaced by a row of polished brownstones. The corner bodega was now a chain grocery store. The willow tree that used to stand at the end of the block had vanished. As I walked, I was surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Even old Mr. Henderson from next door had moved away. Finally, I stood before the door to apartment 502 and rang the bell. My mother opened it. She was wearing an oil-stained apron, and streaks of silver now ran through her dark hair. She just stared, frozen. I was the one to break the silence. “Mom.” She snapped back to reality, her eyes taking in my crisp, decorated Army uniform, my confident posture. Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Scarlett. You’re back. Come in, come in and sit down.” Her nervous excitement was a stark contrast to my own placid calm. I stepped inside and slipped on the guest slippers she offered. The once dim and cramped living room was now bright and spacious. The sofa was new, the coffee table was clear of clutter, and a vase of fresh lilies sat in the center. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the display cabinet flanking the television. It was still filled with my sister Seraphina’s awards, a shrine to her achievements from childhood to adulthood. Just then, my father emerged from the kitchen carrying a platter of roasted chicken. He gave me an awkward smile. “You’re back. I saved you a piece of chicken.” When we were kids, my sister always got both drumsticks. Always. “No, thank you,” I said evenly. “The army has strict dietary regulations. I can’t eat anything prepared outside our facilities. I can’t stay long anyway.” A flash of embarrassment crossed my father’s face. The noise must have carried, because Asher and my sister, Seraphina, came out of the kitchen. Seraphina’s hair was in a low bun, and she wore a pair of delicate gold-rimmed glasses. Dressed in a white knit sweater and a camel-colored coat, she had the air of a sophisticated, mature woman. Her eyes darted away when she saw me. I barely touched my food during dinner, sitting at the table like a stranger while the other four chatted about people I didn’t know and events I had no part in. When the meal was winding down, I glanced at my watch and stood up. “It’s getting late. I should be going.” My mother immediately spoke up. “You’re not staying the night? We haven’t seen you in so long. Stay, we can catch up.” I asked a simple question. “Is there a room for me?” The old apartment had three bedrooms. One for my parents, one for my sister, and one they rented out. I slept on the living room couch. My question hung in the air. My mother’s face flushed with the memory. “In this new place… yes. We saved a room just for you. The sheets, the comforter… they’re all brand new. I just washed them.” I simply shook my head at her peace offering. “That won’t be necessary. The army has provided me with accommodations.” With that, I picked up my jacket and walked out the door. The next day, after visiting a few scenic spots upstate, I got a call from my mother. I hesitated for a second before answering. “Scarlett,” she began, “you barely ate anything last night. Did you not like the food?” “Your father booked a table at The Gilded Swan. Please, have dinner with us tonight. Will you?” In all my memories, my mother had never spoken to me with such a pleading tone. It was always demands and accusations. The image of the silver in her hair flashed in my mind. “Alright,” I agreed. “I’ll be there.” When I walked into the private dining room, I froze. In addition to my parents, Asher, and Seraphina, there was a man I’d never seen before. My mother quickly pulled me down to sit beside her. “I thought this was a family dinner,” I said, confused. “Who is this?” Seraphina spoke up. “Scarlett, a colleague of Asher’s from the Chess Club happens to be single.” “He’s a Grandmaster,” she continued. “A professional player. Very accomplished, very driven. We thought it would be a good opportunity for you two to meet. If you settle down, Mom and Dad can stop worrying.” “And if it doesn’t work out, you’ve made a new friend,” my father added quickly. “Someone you can hang out with when you’re in New York.” The man smiled at me. “Miss Ross, hello. My name is Mark. Your parents told me you’re in the military. That’s very impressive. I was wondering if I could get your number? Maybe we could get to know each other.” It all clicked. This wasn’t a family dinner. It was a blind date. An ambush. After six years of silence, their first act was to try and marry me off. I turned my gaze to Mark. He was average-looking, thin, and dressed in clothes that probably cost less than the necklace I was wearing. “Mark,” I began, my voice cool and clear. “Since this is a setup, let’s just get straight to the point.” “Do you own property in Manhattan? A condo? A co-op? What kind of car do you drive? Did you buy it outright? What are your savings looking like? Six figures? Seven? Any debt? And since you’re a professional player, how many championships have you actually won?” Mark stared at me, dumbfounded, stammering without producing a single coherent word. The rest of the table was equally stunned. “Uh… I just remembered I have something I need to do at the club,” he mumbled, grabbing his coat. “I… I have to go.” After he fled, Seraphina shot me a disapproving look. “Scarlett, how could you be so blunt? Who goes on a date like that? You scared him off! Now who’s going to want to date you?” “Isn’t that the point of a date?” I asked calmly. “To determine compatibility?” I let my gaze drift over each of them, finally landing on my mother. “Mom, do you have any idea what my annual income is?” She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. “I’m a Major General in the United States Army. While the pay isn’t extravagant, my investment portfolio is easily a hundred times larger than his. The Jeep I drove home? That was half a million dollars. I own five properties in New York and three in Miami.” I gestured to my neck. “And this necklace? Seraphina, you probably couldn’t afford this with your entire yearly salary.” I stood up, leaving them to stew in their shock and my sister’s pale, tight-lipped fury.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390905”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband’s childhood friend, the one who grew up next door, could never shake her habit of being hopelessly forgetful. This time, she’d left her phone in my husband Jim’s office. When I brought it to her, the screen was still lit up with a search history she hadn’t closed: “How to get a strong-willed wife to initiate a divorce after getting pregnant?” “Is using a married man’s card for a linked family account considered using their joint marital assets?” I glanced at it, a grim sort of admiration blooming in my chest. The young women these days certainly had the schemes to match their ambitions. I locked the screen and took the phone downstairs to her. She seemed surprised that I was the one who brought it. “Oh, Rhiannon, I’m so sorry to bother you again! I heard you were rushing to a meeting. Let me call a car for you.” I gave a casual nod. As she tapped away at her phone, I caught a flash of the payment screen. It was the icon for a linked card, and the familiar profile picture on it was none other than my husband, Jim. 1 A moment later, a voice memo from Jim played from her phone. “Sadie, look at you, getting the hang of the family card.” Sadie shot an embarrassed look my way, her voice sickly sweet. “I’m just getting a ride for Rhiannon.” “I’ll pay you back as soon as I get a job.” I didn’t listen to the rest. The car had already pulled up. I opened the door, slid inside, and left without a word of goodbye. That evening, Jim, who was supposed to be on the night shift, was sprawled on the living room sofa. The second he saw me, the complaints started. “Why did you have to make Sadie call a car for you?” A knot of frustration tightened in my chest, and my brows drew together. “Is there a problem?” The words were barely out before the day’s grievances came rushing back. Jim was always complaining about the hospital cafeteria food, so I had taken my lunch break to bring him a home-cooked meal. I was in a hurry to get back to my own office for a meeting when he called, just as I was getting into my car. “Sadie is in a panic. Can you run her phone down to her? She’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up before I could even answer. Thinking of it now, I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. “Is my time somehow less valuable than hers?” Seeing the storm on my face, Jim quickly changed his tune. “Alright, let’s drop it. I just feel for her. She just graduated, no job, no savings. I worry she’s having a hard time.” “To you, thirty dollars is nothing, but that could be her food budget for the entire day.” A sharp smile touched my lips, my words laced with sarcasm. “Isn’t it your money? Why the heartache?” Sadie was the girl who grew up next door to Jim. After her parents passed away, Jim had even covered her last two years of college tuition. Sadie always used to say, “Jim, I’m not the kind of girl who just lives off a man. I’ll earn my own money and pay you back.” Three months ago, she graduated and moved back to the city, sticking to Jim like glue ever since. Worried I’d get the wrong idea, Jim had rushed me down to city hall to make our marriage official. We were just waiting for his annual leave next month to have the wedding ceremony. So, even though Sadie had zero sense of boundaries, I usually couldn’t be bothered to argue about her. But this time, Jim didn’t try to placate me as I’d expected. Instead, his gaze turned cold. “What’s with the passive-aggressive tone? It’s a linked card with a five-hundred-dollar limit. What’s the big deal?” “And what’s the big deal about me letting her call a ride for me?” I, who normally hated fighting, refused to back down an inch. He had once set up a card for me, too. The limit was three hundred. I couldn’t even bring myself to buy a cup of coffee with it, terrified of adding to his financial burden. Looking at his self-righteous expression now, a chill seeped into my bones, erupting into an uncontrollable fire. I held up my phone, Sadie’s search history glowing on the screen. “Don’t tell me you’re going to say there’s nothing going on between you two.” The color drained from Jim’s face. He lunged for the phone. I twisted away, but he grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly strong, his voice sharp and urgent. “You don’t know anything! Don’t you dare spread rumors. How is she supposed to face people if this gets out?” I froze. Not from the pain. But from the foreign panic in his eyes, a panic born purely for someone else. He stared at me, finally realizing he’d gone too far. His tone softened. “I’m sorry, Ria. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But we’re married. Why are you getting worked up over my childhood friend? I promise you, I would never, ever do anything to betray you.” “I’ll keep my distance from her from now on. You can just pretend she doesn’t exist.” Just then, Jim’s phone rang. He answered it, and as he listened, his expression shifted dramatically. “You posted this online?” “I just wanted to get some advice from people! I didn’t use any personal information!” He slammed the phone down onto the plush rug. “How old are you? Are you still playing games on the internet?” “Didn’t you see her Google account name in the screenshot?” I pulled out my own phone and saw it. The post, somehow, had started trending. Someone had used the information in her account to dig up her real identity. “Secret Mistress Exposed: Top Surgeon at Seabrook General in Suspected Affair!” Jim’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice trembling. “Are you insane, Rhiannon? Do you want to destroy all of us with public opinion?” I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s not public opinion that’s destroying you. It’s your complete lack of boundaries.” But he wasn’t listening. He snatched his phone and car keys and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. 2 Jim and Sadie weren’t crucified by the internet. To protect its star surgeon, the hospital spent a fortune suppressing the story. Overnight, all the negative comments vanished. Jim also disappeared for two straight days. On the third night, he finally came home, reeking of alcohol. He didn’t come into the bedroom, instead making a call from the living room, his voice carrying clearly through the door. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help you, and instead, I ended up hurting you.” On the other end, Sadie’s voice was thick with tears. “It’s nothing. I can take care of myself. Not every woman needs a man. I’m fine on my own.” Jim sighed. “It’s a good thing you’re so good-natured. Otherwise, who knows how this mess would have ended.” “This whole thing has just shown me that overly aggressive people really aren’t likable.” Not likable. But wasn’t he the one who once told me he loved my cool-headed rationality? Jim asked Sadie for an address. “You’re studying for your medical boards, right? I have some materials here, I’ll bring them over to you in a bit.” “Also, I spoke with the hospital administration. You can start as an intern with us. You’ll be able to work and study under me.” Her tone on the other end finally shifted from sorrow to a soft, happy laugh. They talked for a while longer before Jim finally remembered to come into the bedroom. The door swung open. He saw me and looked a little awkward. “I got Sadie an internship spot. She can follow me at the hospital and learn. Consider it our apology for what happened the other day.” I let out a derisive laugh but said nothing. I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to be apologizing for. I had planned to wait a few days and find a time for the three of us to talk things out face-to-face. But unexpectedly, I, who was usually perfectly healthy, fell ill. It was a nasty bug that lingered for two weeks. When I went back to the hospital for a follow-up, I passed by Jim’s office. A glance through the glass window showed Sadie sitting inside. Her lab coat was unbuttoned, revealing a miniskirt so short it barely grazed her thighs, a flash of pale legs in the sterile environment. When she saw me, she didn’t even bother to stand up. “Rhiannon, you were behind that whole thing online, weren’t you?” “I never would have guessed. You look like such a powerful, put-together career woman, but deep down, you’re just petty and insecure.” “Do you really think a stunt like that is enough to drive me away from him?” I laughed softly. “Miss Sadie, you give yourself far too much credit. My time is valuable. I don’t have the energy to play your childish games.” She eyed me with a smirk. “But your husband loves these childish games.” “See this skirt? Your husband said only a girl my age could pull it off. Once you’re old and washed up, you lose that kind of vitality.” This was the first time she had looked me directly in the eye, making no effort to hide her hostility. Before, whenever Jim was around, she always acted timid and withdrawn, claiming my success intimidated her and she was too scared to be around me. Now, the fox was finally letting its tail show. 3 Even though I had already seen through Jim’s pathetic, have-it-all nature, Sadie’s words—”Your husband loves these childish games”—still sent a cold stone dropping into my stomach. Weren’t we all “little girls” once? I took a deep breath, quickly steadying myself. Just as I was about to fire back, the office door swung open. A female doctor walked in and sat down across from Sadie, her tone chummy. “It’s rare to see you alone. Where’s your man?” “I heard he practically slammed the table in the chief’s office to get you this internship. That childhood bond is really something else, huh?” “You have to put in a good word for me with Dr. Evans. Maybe I can get a chance to scrub in on one of his surgeries.” Only then did she notice me standing by the door. She scowled impatiently. “It’s not visiting hours yet. Hospital rules say patients wait outside. What are you doing just standing there?” “Some patients have no self-awareness. You’re too nice, Sadie. If it were me, I would have kicked her out ages ago.” Although Jim and I had been together for eight years, I had always believed in giving each other space and rarely visited him at the hospital. So, while many people had heard he was married, few had actually met me. But I recognized this doctor. Her name was Brenda, and she had a reputation for being the hospital shrew—terrible skills, terrible temper, and a classic bully. It was surprising that Sadie, after only a few days, had already fallen in with her. Before I could say anything, Brenda had already opened the door and ushered me out, closing it gently behind her. Through the thin door, I heard Sadie’s cheerful voice pick up the conversation. “Don’t be ridiculous. Whether I get to stay or not depends on my own abilities. You can’t get a foothold at Seabrook General with connections alone.” Brenda’s tone was knowing. “Other connections might not work, but your guy is the top scalpel here. Who would dare cross him? You’re too naive, burying your head in books all day! I heard you’re already carrying his child. Instead of studying, you should just force his hand!” She practically shouted the last few words, as if afraid Sadie wouldn’t hear. “No, the father isn’t him…” Sadie demurred. Brenda cackled. “Oh, I heard all about it! Dr. Evans’s car was in the parking garage the other day… making quite a commotion!” “He only sees me as a sister!” Sadie explained weakly. “No blood relation, what kind of sister is that? A ‘special’ sister? Didn’t he give you his downtown studio apartment to live in? Don’t think I don’t know.” No wonder Jim, who never cared about such things, had suddenly taken his car for a full detailing a few days ago. He’d been using it as a love nest. And he’d lied to me, saying he’d rented the apartment to a young couple, recent graduates. “They just moved to the city, don’t have much money. I told them they could delay their first rent payment.” I’d been surprised at the time. Jim was usually so frugal. I never thought he could be so understanding. It turned out Sadie was the one living there. But that was the apartment I bought with the bonus from my first big project! And I was still the one paying the mortgage! After a bit more chatter, Brenda came out, probably to see if Jim was back. She was annoyed to see me still standing there. “Why are you eavesdropping on our private conversation?” I couldn’t help but sneer. “Calling her ‘Dr. Sadie’ already? She doesn’t even have her medical license yet. And besides, you should probably lower your voices. It’s not like you were discussing anything honorable, were you?” Sadie emerged, her face a mask of wounded innocence. “Rhiannon, you didn’t take that seriously, did you? We were just joking around. Jim and I are close, but we’ve never crossed any lines. I know you’re very accomplished, but I’m not so bad myself. I will pass my medical boards, and I hope in the future you won’t speak to me with such a dismissive tone.” I was about to marvel at her Oscar-worthy performance and her bafflingly complex personality—flipping between manic, proud, vicious, and victimized in the blink of an eye. You’d think she was suffering from some strange ailment. But in the next moment, a familiar, angry voice sounded from behind me. “Rhiannon, what are you doing now?” 4 “She doesn’t have an office, so I told her she could rest and study in here. Is that something to be angry about?” “Come on, she’s just a kid. You don’t have to be like this.” My mouth moved, but no sound came out. It didn’t matter. When it came to Sadie, Jim always had the same excuses. She would text and call him in the middle of the night, claiming she needed help with a question. It was obvious what she was really after. One night, we were in the middle of being intimate when her call came through. Jim rolled off me, got out of bed, and went to look up some information for her. Humiliated and furious, I yelled at him. “She’s not even your real sister! Even if she were, this is completely out of line!” Jim just soothed me with his usual line. “She’s just a kid. What’s there to be angry about? We can do this anytime. She’s studying for her boards. That’s a big deal.” Seeing me silent for a long moment, Jim must have thought his authoritative tone had worked. He softened his voice. “Okay, don’t be upset. When I get my vacation time, I’ll take you on that cruise you’ve always wanted to go on.” Sadie chimed in with a saccharine-sour voice, “Jim, you’re so busy and you still have to take care of your wife. You’re such a good man. Rhiannon, you’re amazing, but it’s not easy to find a man who truly loves you. You should learn to cherish him.” I used to think that if my marriage ever fell apart, I’d have a clichéd breakdown, sobbing and demanding to know how Jim could forget his promises. But at this moment, my voice was unnervingly calm. “I’m not upset. And you don’t have to wait for your vacation. I can go on a cruise by myself.” “Let’s get a divorce, Jim.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390904”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel