Author: Momo Chan

  • The Telepathic Dog and the Golden Boy

    I can hear my dog’s inner thoughts. While walking him, I suddenly heard: “Mom! Mom! Mom! Say the dog’s name quickly!” I yelled, “Buddy!” Buddy turned around to look at me. And turning with him was a gorgeous blonde guy. 01 At the beginning of the year, I visited a pet-friendly temple to pray for wealth. The monk suddenly grabbed my arm. “Miss, you don’t need to pray for money. Your fortune has already arrived.” I cleaned out my ear, utterly skeptical. The monk explained, “You are destined for romance, and that romance is your wealth.” Twenty-five years of being single. I always thought I was the main character, the lone wolf. So I bowed to the monk and said, “No, thanks. I prefer to believe I control my own destiny, not fate.” After leaving the temple, something even stranger happened. A voice, seemingly from nowhere, echoed in my mind. “Mom won’t date, and Mom won’t find the dog a girlfriend either. But Mom gives the dog food, so Mom is good and bad at the same time.” I looked down. Sure enough, Buddy was looking at me suspiciously. I tentatively held my phone to my ear and asked, “Oh, they want me to take Buddy to be neutered? Today?” Buddy always resisted going to the vet. Even now, hearing the word ‘vet’ would send him running away from me. This time was no exception. Even on a leash, Buddy lunged forward desperately. “Mom must not take the dog to lose his balls! The dog still needs to sniff little Belle’s butt next door!” After confirming that I could actually hear Buddy’s thoughts, I bowed again toward the temple. Then, unable to argue with Buddy, I let him pull me along. It was hard to tell who was walking whom. After a few minutes of running, Buddy suddenly stopped. I heard again: “Mom! Mom! Mom! Say the dog’s name quickly!” I didn’t understand, but I did as I was told. “Buddy.” “Mom, louder! The dog can’t hear you.” … Ugh! This little menace! Furious, I yelled out, “BUDDY!” Buddy finally turned around. And turning with him was a blonde heartthrob up ahead. When I saw his face, I was slightly stunned. He saw me, a look of surprise flashing across his face. He actually walked toward me. His voice was intense: “I don’t know how you found out my nickname, but you’d better not tell anyone.” “If I find out one other person knows I’m called Buddy, I’ll make you regret it.” Buddy chimed in: “The dog knows, but the dog isn’t a person.” I looked at the handsome man, slightly embarrassed. “Maybe you should get up first? Stop kneeling on the sidewalk.” I had no idea what happened, but he had just suddenly dropped to his knees. After much persuasion, he finally stood up. Then, to ensure my silence, he added me on social media. Was all that really necessary? His retreating steps were a little clumsy. Maybe he’d been kneeling for too long. For some reason, he looked vaguely familiar. A gentle panting sigh reached my ear again. “Mom, the dog told you, if you ask someone for help, you need the right attitude. The dog used its head to hit his knees. The dog is awesome and protected Mom.” Huh? I finally realized. It wasn’t that he wanted to kneel; he was physically forced. 02 When I got home after walking the dog, it was dinner time. Mrs. Lee and Mr. Perry from next door invited me to eat with them. It wasn’t the first time. I took the fruit I’d just bought and headed over. But the door opened surprisingly fast today. I heard Buddy’s voice again, sounding absolutely lecherous: “Little Belle.” “Little Belle, tee hee, Buddy the big brother is here to see you~” Sometimes, I really want to smack him. If I’d known my dog was a lecherous old man inside, I still probably would have chosen him. I’m a sucker for a pretty face (or snout). And then. I keenly caught a murmured thought: “Little Belle says her daddy is home today.” Daddy? Mr. Perry? He’s always home, isn’t he? I was completely zoning out when a snap of fingers brought me back to reality. Standing in front of me was the blonde heartthrob who had knelt before me earlier. He was wearing an apron, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He had total “husband material” energy. I swallowed. Buddy next to me barked aggressively: “It’s Daddy,” Huh? He continued: “It’s Little Belle’s daddy. He’s Little Belle’s daddy!” I blurted out. “Daddy?” Our eyes locked. The handsome guy froze, a faint blush staining his cheeks. Mr. Perry, who had just arrived at the door, paused and cleared his throat awkwardly, looking at both of us. “You two know each other?” More barks came from below—it was Little Belle’s voice. “Daddy!” “It’s my daddy!” She wagged her tail excitedly. I looked at the handsome guy, then at Little Belle, desperate to turn and run. Mrs. Lee quickly pushed Mr. Perry forward. Luckily, Mr. Perry reacted fast, grabbing my hand. “Good job, good job! I’ve always wanted a daughter.” I sniffled and followed them inside. I almost left their biological son outside the door. 03 At the dinner table. I chatted enthusiastically with Mrs. Lee and Mr. Perry. Mrs. Lee frequently instructed her son to serve me food. “The tenderest piece goes to Hannah.” “Go on, don’t just stand there. Get my good daughter another bowl of soup.” “Here, grab a slice of meat. Hannah likes the marbled kind.” By the end of the meal, I realized I had so many preferences I hadn’t even known about. I couldn’t help but admire Mrs. Lee’s keen observation skills. As for her son? He was practically a robot. When Mrs. Lee pulled out the photo album after dinner to reminisce, I never would have guessed that the little chubby kid in the pictures had turned into the striking blonde guy sitting across from me. In the photo, I was graduating from high school. The chubby kid was Ethan Perry. He had just finished middle school, and his parents were sending him abroad for school. In my memory, Ethan was a small, pale, chubby boy, a head shorter than me, and usually quiet. Even taking the photo was awkward. Mrs. Lee had to push him forward: “Ethan, hurry up and pose with your big sister.” Our two families had known each other for over ten years. I heard his parents say that Ethan might not come back after finishing his studies. I felt a little down and threw an arm around his shoulder. Looking back at the frozen moment now, Ethan looked utterly helpless, his face full of embarrassment. Just like now. “Mom, why are you bringing out these pictures?” Ethan complained, his expression sour. His cheek looked bruised, slightly caved in. He thought no one was looking, but his palm was pressed down on a photo. I had already seen it. It was a picture of him in diapers. Tiny. And very cute. I couldn’t help but chuckle. He caught my eye, turned, and glared at me. “Stop staring.” “Stare one more time, and I’ll take your eyes out.” His voice was slightly louder when he said this, causing Buddy to immediately start growling and mumbling insults. “Who do you think you’re talking to, you punk?” “Dare to threaten my mom? You’re asking for trouble. The dog is only three, but it has plenty of strength and tricks up its sleeve!” Barking, he latched onto Ethan’s pant leg. Protecting the mother at all costs. Little Belle whined, putting a paw on Buddy, trying to mediate: “Forget it, forget it. It’s tough for everyone.” “Don’t bite my daddy~” Seeing Buddy wasn’t letting go, I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and scolded, “Buddy, apologize immediately!” I deliberately emphasized my distaste for such aggressive behavior. The next second, the man in front of me spoke first. “I’m sorry.” I stared blankly at the man, who quickly turned his head away after speaking. Wait, is this right? I felt like a circuit breaker had tripped in my head. Ethan sighed, knelt down, and rubbed Buddy’s head. “I didn’t mean to yell at your mom.” “But you did the right thing. Next time, your big brother will buy you treats, okay?” Buddy bared his teeth, reminding him, “Not big brother, Uncle.” I looked in the mirror and saw the hair on top of my head had been ruffled into a garlic bulb shape. I secretly barked low: “Mommy-Sauce, speak up for me! Speak up for me!” I wanted to say something, extending my hand to signal Ethan to stand up, but he misinterpreted it as me wanting to pull him up and took my hand. His palm was warm. He didn’t rush to stand. Suddenly, he raised his beautiful eyes to look at me, his tone shifting. “I already apologized. What else do you want?” I honestly didn’t expect things to progress like this. I was flustered, my cheeks burning. My mouth was a mess of words. “No.” “I was just calling Buddy… I wasn’t talking about you.” “I was just calling Buddy,” he said, sounding a little wronged. Forget it. The more I explained, the messier it got. 04 Actually, the name Buddy and I have a long history. The day I dropped Ethan off at the airport, I was actually quite sad, but I couldn’t cry. It might be hard to imagine. But when a little white marshmallow of a boy is in front of you, snot running down his face, throwing a tantrum, you can’t help but stifle a laugh. He was bossy even at that young age, sobbing as he waved goodbye: “I’m Sister’s only Buddy, right?” I stroked his head and affirmed repeatedly, “Yes, yes, yes.” But he didn’t know I was a people-pleaser. After seven, eight, nine, ten dinners, Ethan finally started acting like Mrs. Lee and Mr. Perry’s son! Well, not entirely. Today, I was shopping with him at the supermarket. The lady on the first floor recognized me. “Isn’t that Hannah?” Seeing Ethan next to me, she was both surprised and delighted, her eyes sparkling with gossip. “Your boyfriend?” Without waiting for me to confirm or deny, the lady immediately started gushing. “No wonder I haven’t seen you dating anyone! You were waiting for this tall, handsome young man. Our Hannah has good taste!” I looked at the man next to me, who acted completely indifferent, and sighed loudly. Trust a man, and the sun rises in the west. I quickly waved my hands. “Auntie, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s Mr. Perry’s son.” “The real, biological son.” Ethan was slightly nudged by my words and slowly confirmed with an “Mmm.” But the lady was thrilled, grabbing both of our hands. “That’s even better!” “Making it a family affair!” What on earth is she talking about!? She even stacked our hands together. I chuckled awkwardly. “Auntie, the discount section is starting soon. Aren’t you going to check it out?” Auntie looked reluctant but bolted away. Our hands were still stacked together. I quietly pulled my hand away. A moment later, he said abruptly, “Thank you.” I was completely confused. I simply replied, “You’re welcome.” Later, as he was grabbing some groceries, his hand, resting on the shopping cart, accidentally touched mine. I tried to pull my hand away, but this kid had the strength of an ox. I couldn’t get it back no matter how hard I tried. Finally, I ‘casually’ stepped on his foot. Only then did he casually notice, saying sarcastically, “Oh, was your hand down there the whole time? It’s small, cold, and hard. I didn’t notice.” I didn’t notice~ Ugh. So. I stepped on his foot again. 05 Ethan’s cooking skills were genuinely excellent, leading me to suspect he didn’t study art abroad but culinary arts. I went to help him in the kitchen. At first, neither of us spoke. The atmosphere was incredibly awkward. I started making forced small talk. “Little Brother, how long are you planning to stay in the country?” Ethan glanced at me, poker-faced. “Depends on my mood.” He added, “Big Sister!” “Oh.” “Did you date anyone abroad? I heard there are a lot of beautiful women at your school.” As if annoyed by the question, he stopped washing dishes and looked straight at me. “What about you? You never met anyone suitable? I heard a lot of guys at your school were asking about you.” Aggressive. I scratched my head. “How do you know that?” I had only told Mrs. Lee. He went silent again. After a moment, Ethan bossed me around naturally. “Big Sister, hand me that plate.” “Where is it?” I followed his gaze and saw a plate left on top of the fridge. It was a bit high. I couldn’t reach it. I tried harder. Still couldn’t reach it. Suddenly, an arm reached over me from behind. It was Ethan, using his height advantage to easily grab the plate. I instinctively turned my head, my breath catching. Ethan’s lips were barely an inch from my eye. His breath was hot. “Still… still haven’t gotten it?” A low murmur brushed past my ear. “Mmm.” I froze in place. When people are flustered, they often blurt out nonsense. “All the students at my school are on vacation now.” “Oh.” “They’re not serving teachers at the school cafeteria anymore.” “Is that so?” “What do you think I should eat tomorrow?” “Up to you.” Completely unhelpful. During the conversation, I heard Buddy’s faint barks: “Mommy.” “Mommy.” “Baby tummy…” They quickly faded away. I almost thought I was hallucinating.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386918”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The River’s Toll: Blood, Secrets, and the Family Business

    The secret to my family’s wealth was the river running right outside our door. Whenever an outsider came by, my father would fake a drowning, then pull the good Samaritan who tried to save him under the water and drown them instead. He’d call my Uncle Frank to ‘recover the body’ later. Frank would strap the corpse to the boat and demand a hefty reward from the victim’s family. It wasn’t just the perfect crime; the profits were incredible. Until one day, the body Uncle Frank fished out was my father’s. Just like every person my dad had drowned, his death was ruled an accident. My mother was inconsolable with grief, but Uncle Frank and the others looked strangely tense. Later, Frank told me my dad’s death wasn’t right. After Dad died, Frank still received a text message from his phone. 1 After my dad’s funeral, Grandpa called all the men in the family together. That included my Uncle Frank, my two older cousins—Jimmy and Scott—and me, Alex. Frank started by laying out the facts he knew. The police estimated my dad, the youngest son, had died around seven or eight p.m. But Frank didn’t receive a text from Dad until after midnight. That’s why he took Jimmy and Scott out on the boat to retrieve the body. Sure enough, they brought one up. But they never expected it to be Dad. Dad definitely didn’t drown by accident. It had to be murder. He was an expert swimmer. He could easily drag someone under the water and sneak away. He could even go home, change clothes, and come back to the riverbank to pretend he was helping with the rescue once a crowd gathered. So, the question was, who killed my dad? “It shouldn’t be an outsider. Dad, look at the message the youngest sent.” He handed his phone, screen lit up, to Grandpa. The three of us cousins leaned in to look. It was a text message: “A little bird has fallen into the water.” The sender was my dad, and the time was after midnight, hours after his estimated death. The problem was, this was our code. It meant someone had drowned and it was time to go fish out the body. Frank argued: “Who else besides family would know that code?” Grandpa frowned, turning to look at the three of us. We exchanged glances. That was my own father, and their uncle. How could we possibly do something like that? Even if we could, what was the motive? Grandpa realized it was unlikely and roared at Frank: “What are you saying? Don’t talk nonsense!” Frank quickly explained: “No, I’m not saying the boys would do something like that… I want to know if anyone accidentally told our code to an outsider?” The moment he said that, Jimmy, standing next to me, suddenly stiffened. 2 Frank noticed. He instantly exploded with anger and shouted: “You little punk! Spit it out! Was it you?” Jimmy’s face changed dramatically. He stammered: “Dad, I… I didn’t mean to. I just… I…” Frank jumped up, raising his hand to strike Jimmy. Scott and I flinched away, scared. Luckily, Grandpa interrupted Frank in time, shouting: “Frank, stop! What’s the point of hitting him? You idiot!” Then he beckoned to Jimmy: “Come here, Jimmy. Tell Grandpa… who did you tell?” Jimmy ran trembling to Grandpa and finally confessed: “It was my friend… Old Man Miller’s son, Tom Miller, from down the street…” He then explained, near tears: “I didn’t mean to. I was just drunk, and I accidentally… I just said it once…” Frank stomped his foot in a fit of rage. But Grandpa reassured him: “He already said it. What’s done is done. Let’s focus on figuring out what happened…” Since Grandpa had spoken, Frank’s outburst was useless. But Grandpa looked specifically at me. I had to say something: “If Tom really did it, I’ll kill his whole damn family.” After all, it was my dad who died. Though I genuinely had no affection for him, since he had none for me. And having seen countless people die in front of me since childhood, I didn’t feel much grief over his death. To me, death was normal. Grandpa’s brow furrowed again. He muttered to himself: “But… Tom doesn’t have any beef with our family…” He turned to Frank and instructed: “Frank, tomorrow you go set up a meeting with Tom’s dad. I’ll talk to him first, test the waters… see if the grudge was just between him and the youngest… or if it’s targeted at all of us…” But Frank didn’t answer. He had been furious moments ago, but now he was standing completely still, his expression blank. He was looking at his phone. Grandpa got angry again and scolded him: “What are you looking at your phone for! Did you hear me?” Frank finally reacted, quickly turning the screen toward Grandpa: “No, Dad, look at this!” On the screen was a newly received text message. The content was: “A little bird has fallen into the water.” Suddenly, even Grandpa fell silent. 3 Finally, it was Jimmy who broke the silence: “That number… that number looks like Tom’s!” After saying that, he frantically pulled out his own phone. After checking for a few seconds, he confirmed: “It is! That’s his number!” Grandpa’s frown deepened. Frank paused, then carefully asked: “Dad… should we, should we take the boat out to check?” Grandpa pondered for a good while before instructing: “You go, but be careful… whether you find a body or not, no matter whose body you find… don’t make a sound, and don’t call the police. Come back and we’ll discuss it.” Frank quickly nodded. Then he motioned for the three of us cousins to get the boat ready. Retrieving bodies has its tricks. The river isn’t still water; bodies won’t stay in one place. But we were experienced. We knew there were a few spots downstream that were excellent for recovery. Those places were full of rocks and reefs, where bodies usually got snagged. However, there was no bank there; the river was flanked by thorny thickets, so we had to approach by boat. Luckily, we knew the route by heart. Soon, we reached the spot. We couldn’t risk the boat hitting the rocks, so we stopped and prepared for manual retrieval. Jimmy and Scott tied on safety ropes, ready to jump in and search the rocks. I looked at the murky, black river water. The searchlight only illuminated a small surface area, and I felt a knot of anxiety. So, I suggested to Frank: “Uncle Frank, I’m not good at retrieval, and my swimming isn’t strong enough… maybe I can stay on the boat and assist you with signals?” Frank seemed to sense my fear and waved his hand. “It’s fine, you don’t have to go in. Your brothers are seasoned pros; let them do it… but you do need to practice your swimming… you’ll be taking over your dad’s role someday…” I breathed a sigh of relief. Frank didn’t go into the water either. Jimmy and Scott, wearing searchlights on their heads, calmly jumped in. Bodies don’t float quickly. Even if they’re caught on a reef, they’re likely snagged underwater. Sure enough, after a short time, someone surfaced and signaled with their searchlight. Frank quickly motored the boat over. Getting closer, we saw it was Jimmy. He shouted: “Found him! Throw down the rope!” Frank quickly threw down the rope from the winch, and Jimmy submerged again to work. Soon, the other end of the rope was tied to a body. Frank started turning the winch. The body slowly rose toward the boat until it was lifted close to the bow… Jimmy shone his light on the body’s face and yelled: “Holy crap! It really is Tom!” Frank locked the winch, but his brow furrowed. He looked around, then asked Jimmy, who was still in the water: “Where’s your brother?” It hit me too— Scott hadn’t surfaced yet. Jimmy froze. “Pull the safety rope! Hurry!” 4 When Scott was pulled up, he was completely unconscious. Luckily, Frank reacted quickly. Otherwise, he would have drowned. Once on the boat, Scott was coughing uncontrollably. Frank immediately cleared the mud, sand, and water weeds from his mouth and nose. Then, using the “head-tilt, chin-lift” technique, he tilted Scott’s head back to keep his airway open. Finally, after throwing up a large amount of filthy water, Scott was able to breathe deeply. But he was still disoriented. We quickly rushed Scott home. Aunt Jane was terrified and immediately rushed out to care for him. I didn’t dare alarm my mother, as she still hadn’t recovered. Grandpa was also surprised. Scott was an excellent swimmer, even better than Jimmy. He had been in that exact spot hundreds of times. How could he possibly drown? Scott was still woozy, but seemed out of danger. Since Aunt Jane was caring for him, Grandpa told us to hurry up and dispose of Tom’s body. “The youngest died just two days ago, and now he’s dead too… If the police see such frequent deaths, they’ll suspect something. Go bury him… hurry…” Frank, Jimmy, and I drove out late that night, found a spot, and buried Tom. When we got back, Scott had recovered significantly. He could at least open his eyes and speak a little. Seeing us return, Grandpa told Aunt Jane to rest. The main goal was for all of us to hear why Scott had almost drowned. When the subject came up, Scott’s face was full of terror. He started shaking. His trembling lips could only force out one sentence: “A head… a human head! The eyes… the eyes were glowing…!” 5 Scott stammered through his account for a long time before we understood what happened underwater. He had submerged, searching the rocks for the body as usual. He even checked the patches of water weeds. But for a moment, he thought something other than water weeds had brushed his arm. He swept his searchlight around and discovered— A human head, silently suspended in the shadow of a nearby rock. And what had touched his arm wasn’t water weeds. It was the long hair floating off the head. It drifted silently, like dense water weeds, obscuring its face. At that moment, Scott wasn’t terrified yet. He had seen too many bodies. This was clearly one, too, though he didn’t understand why it was only a head. And since Tom was a man, this long-haired head was clearly a woman’s. He reached out, intending to grab the hair and pull the head out. But just then, something strange happened. Scott finally saw the head’s face. It was swollen and rotting, the skin peeling away from being waterlogged. There were many signs of having been smashed, and the skin was drifting away from those damaged areas. Most incredibly, the eyes— The deep, massive, rounded eyes suddenly erupted with an eerie blue light. That sight terrified Scott nearly to unconsciousness. Naturally, he forgot to hold his breath and forgot to surface. The salty, foul-smelling river water instantly flooded his mouth, choking him… After hearing Scott’s story, everyone was speechless. Even Grandpa frowned, falling into silence. But Frank suddenly erupted in rage, viciously slapping Jimmy across the face! We were all stunned, and even Grandpa looked confused. Until Frank gritted his teeth and roared: “You animal! Why did you tell Tom our code? What kind of dirty business were you two doing together?!”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386917”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Puppet’s Payback: A Thousand Nights of Ice and Fire

    The System told me to babysit the gloomy male lead. After the female lead left, everyone steered clear of the lunatic, Ethan Blackwood, but I stepped up to the challenge. Ethan was afraid of the dark and demanded I sleep next to him. Yet, he would brutally shove me off the bed, fracturing my hip. For over a thousand nights, he only allowed me to curl up on the cold floor beside his bed, leaving me with chronic pain. He craved classic dumplings from an old shop. I brought them back at 3 a.m., and in his haste, the boiling soup spilled, searing the back of my hand. He barely glanced at it: “The soup is ruined. Feed it to the dog.” In our circle, they all laughed, calling me Ethan Blackwood’s collared dog—the one he couldn’t chase away. I never denied it. Finally, the female lead returned. They laughed, saying I was a ‘simp’ who got nothing in the end. But they didn’t know that on this day, the System was about to grant my wish. 1 Ethan’s ‘one that got away,’ Clara Hayes, was back in the country. Everyone was waiting to see the downfall of the ‘simp,’ me. I, however, was celebrating that the mission was finally complete. Hearing the news, I immediately typed up my resignation letter. Just as I raised my hand to knock, I heard Ethan talking to his assistant. “Mr. Blackwood, I’ve confirmed. Ms. Hayes lands at Southfield Airport at 7 p.m. tonight.” “Good. Pack that aquamarine necklace for me.” “But didn’t you order that for Miss Alexa? ” Ethan’s knuckles rapped against the desk, the sound sharp in the empty office. “Order her something else. I decide what happens to things in my possession.” “Don’t forget to put 99 yellow roses in the car.” I knocked and walked straight in. The two men snapped their heads up. Ethan’s deep eyes focused on me. His perfectly tailored suit outlined his powerful physique. Assistant Carl looked at me with pity and sympathy. I smiled and nodded at him. I had personally hired him. He was one of the few who understood my situation. I placed the resignation letter on the desk. The document went directly under Ethan’s gaze. “Mr. Blackwood, I need your signature on this file.” Ethan scoffed, giving Carl a look. Carl wisely retreated. “Don’t play games, Alexa. Don’t try the ‘hard to get’ routine.” “I don’t have time for your drama today.” He stood up. His imposing figure created a strong pressure as he closed the distance between us. He leaned in, his breath hitting my cheek, sending a chill through me. “Know your place. Where else can you go if you leave Blackwood Corp? You clawed your way up and cling to me for a reason you know well.” My face remained expressionless. I kept up my professional smile. Ethan suddenly gripped my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his scrutinizing gaze, his tone laced with mockery and certainty. “You’ve been doing a great job for the past three years, haven’t you?” “You’ve always been rational. Don’t do anything foolish. It won’t benefit a person like you.” With that, he released my chin, leaving immediate red marks on my pale skin. He tore up my resignation letter. The shredded pieces landed behind me. “Mr. Blackwood, I have only professional respect, not affection, for you. Besides, employee turnover is normal.” My voice was swallowed by the sound of his door slamming shut. ________________________________________ 2 Back at the Blackwood mansion, I immediately started packing my suitcase and checking flights out of the country. In three years, I hadn’t accumulated much. One suitcase held everything. A knock sounded. I opened the door to see Ethan’s sister, Layla. She saw the suitcase, her eyes widening. She spoke hesitantly. “Alexa, did you find out Clara Hayes is back…?” Three years ago, Ethan crashed his car while chasing Clara. He was in a coma for three months. The company fell into chaos. Clara never looked back, disappearing overseas, leaving Ethan to wake up and rage domestically. Layla was only fifteen then. She couldn’t handle the external pressure and hid in her room, covering her ears to escape Ethan’s hysterical shouts. Just as she was about to break, I appeared. As per the System’s arrangement, I became the granddaughter of Mr. Blackwood Sr.’s late mentor. I presented Mr. Blackwood Sr.’s last will, appointing me as his business consultant, and parachuted into Blackwood Corp. Everyone thought I was an incompetent outsider, waiting for me to fail. But I calmed Layla, stabilized the company’s shareholders, and personally oversaw Ethan’s recovery. I made everything appear to be back on track. Layla was looking at me, breathing heavily, terrified that I might show any sign of anger. Realizing this, Layla frantically called her brother. “Ethan! Where are you? Come home now!” “What is it?” Ethan’s cold voice betrayed slight impatience, mixed with the sound of airport announcements on the other end. “It’s…” Layla glanced at me, then continued, “It’s Alexa’s birthday today! We promised to celebrate with her! The day isn’t over yet, there’s still time!” Ethan paused briefly. He had clearly forgotten. “Tell her I’ll make it up to her with a gift.” “If you don’t come back now, Alexa is going to leave!” Layla’s voice became tearful. “Did she brainwash you too? Layla, are you helping her lie to me? Don’t forget whose sister you are.” Layla called again, but the line was busy. She turned to me, frustrated. “Sister Alexa, I’m sorry… my brother doesn’t mean it.” “Layla, you should listen to your brother. Your brother and I just have an employer-employee relationship. Ms. Hayes is the one meant to be with Mr. Blackwood.” I smiled faintly and advised her. “No way! You’re as stubborn as my brother.” Layla gave me a look of exasperation, her cheeks puffed out. She was genuinely frustrated on my behalf. I guided Layla back to her room. “It’s late. You need to sleep.” Finally, Layla was settled. I heard the System broadcast. $$Host, Clara Hayes has returned. Congratulations on completing the mission. Your wish is about to be granted.$$ I let out a breath of relief. I pulled my suitcase out of the Blackwood mansion. Taking one last look at the place I’d endured for three years. ________________________________________ 3 It was late. I arrived at a two-story house in the suburbs. I had purchased this property a year ago. The former owner was a kind, honest middle-aged woman. It was raining heavily that day, a cold, damp winter evening. Ethan had thrown me out onto a muddy street. “Go home yourself if you dare.” The cold seeped into my bones, giving me chronic pain. When the weather changed, I couldn’t even stand straight. Ethan, however, believed it was just a ploy for his sympathy. He sat in his car, enjoying my miserable, desperate state, then drove away as I pleaded. My phone was dead. I had to walk back, holding my aching hip, in the pouring rain. I collapsed on the roadside shortly after and was found by the homeowner. Learning her son was sick, and she needed to sell the house quickly for his treatment. I bought the house for twenty thousand dollars above the market price. Thinking back, I didn’t even have a room of my own at the Blackwood mansion. After purchasing it, I renovated the house to match the simple, elegant style of Liam Chen, with plenty of green plants. The rightmost room was filled with gifts I had prepared for Liam. Three years ago, Liam fell into a coma after an attack, becoming vegetative. After running across the country for doctors proved futile, the System found me. It promised to grant me one wish upon completion of the mission. It gave me hope. Sleeping in a soft bed, I had my first good dream in three years. In the dream, Liam woke up, and we were just as happy as before. I checked my phone. People who enjoyed my misery had texted me. $$Alexa, Ethan posted on his social media. Stop dreaming of replacing Clara Hayes as Mrs. Blackwood. When are you finally going to leave?$$ Ethan had posted his first social media update in three years. The content was just one picture. In the photo, Clara was sitting sideways. Ethan was gazing at her pale profile, his eyes possessive, filled with overwhelming love. Below were rows of congratulations, and naturally, people publicly mocking me. Half the messages in my phone were pity, half were glee. I ignored them all. I didn’t care before, and I certainly didn’t care now. There was only one person I cared about from the beginning to the end. Thinking of the elegant, gentle, and refined Liam Chen, my eyes felt hot and moist. I clutched the clothes over my chest, suppressing the turbulent, bittersweet emotions. I couldn’t rush back to him just yet. I had to ensure the mission reward was successfully granted. ________________________________________ 4 I showed up at the company as usual to handle the handover procedures. Most of the current Blackwood Corp management were people I had promoted, so they naturally didn’t make things difficult for me. But I didn’t expect Clara Hayes to show up at the company. I smiled and nodded at her, ready to leave. But she quickly walked over to me. Onlookers quietly gathered to watch the drama. “Hilarious! The white moonlight is back. The schemer needs to step aside! Look at her aura; Alexa can’t compete with that!” “She simped for three years and got nothing in the end. Why bother?” “Why bother? If she had succeeded, she would have been the owner of Blackwood Corp. I would have simped too!” Clara looked surprised, her eyes twinkling. “You must be Miss Alexa? I’ve heard about you from many friends. You’re so beautiful. Thank you for taking care of Ethan for me all these years. I don’t know how to repay you.” I put on a polite smile. “You’re too kind, Ms. Hayes. It was just part of my job. Mr. Blackwood paid generously.” “I heard it was your birthday yesterday, Miss Alexa? I’m so sorry, but I felt sick after traveling, and I had to keep Ethan busy all night.” With that, she lightly touched the aquamarine necklace on her neck, a provocative glint in her eyes. “Not at all. Mr. Blackwood’s care for you is expected. I have to go now.” She stopped me. “Miss Alexa, since you’re leaving, make a clean break, alright?” The onlookers’ eyes widened. They didn’t expect the first confrontation between these two to be so dramatic. I smiled faintly at her. “Ms. Hayes, are you that insecure? Don’t worry, I have no interest in a man like him.” But as soon as I got downstairs, Ethan sent me a few texts. One was a photo of Clara and me standing together. In the picture, she stood with red-rimmed eyes, facing me, while I had my back to the camera. It made me look arrogant, perfectly framing me as the bully. “Can your tactics be any more despicable? Get out of the mansion tonight. Don’t stay in the Blackwood house.” I didn’t reply, simply turning off the screen. My pleasure. 5 Things quieted down around me for a while. Until late one night, just as I finished organizing and sending out all my files. As I was getting ready for bed, I received a call from an unknown number. Ethan’s voice was tired and hoarse. He said, “Alexa, come here. I can’t sleep.” “Mr. Blackwood, I have already resigned.” His voice held a hint of anger. “I won’t say it a second time. Get over here.” I hung up. The phone rang again instantly. I blocked the number. After sleeping for less than two hours, a knocking sound came from downstairs. I peered through the peephole and saw Ethan. His face was dark, emitting a cold aura. He looked furious. As if sensing my presence, he leaned into the peephole, a mocking smile on his lips. “Open the door.” I silently opened the door, the usual gentle look replaced by indifference and disgust. “Can I help you?” Seeing this, Ethan irritably tugged at his tie. His eyes were shadowed with sleeplessness. He tried to walk past me, but I blocked him. He scanned the room and scoffed. “You can only live in a place like this after leaving me? Come back with me now.” “Don’t make me say it a second time, Alexa. My patience is wearing thin.” Seeing I was still unmoved, anger flared in Ethan’s dark eyes. He forcefully grabbed my arm, trying to drag me to his car. I pulled out the paring knife I had hidden in my sleeve and slashed the back of his hand. He yelped in pain and let go, looking shocked and disbelieving. “You stabbed me?”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386916”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • A Mother’s Justice

    As Hugh Sullivan’s intended wife, the title of “Mrs. Sullivan” was the last thing I ever wanted. On our wedding day, standing outside the dressing room, I overheard a conversation between my father and Hugh. “Hugh, are you truly willing to marry Elara for Celia’s sake?” “If you have second thoughts now, I can still find someone else to take her place.” A heavy sigh from Hugh. “I’m the only one who can tie Elara down, make her give up her claim on the inheritance. Everything I’m doing… it’s all for Celia.” A slow, silent smile spread across my lips. Oh, Father. You’ve grown so foolish in your old age. Did you really think marrying me off would be enough to neutralize me? That it would clear the way for you to welcome your illegitimate children into the family and hand them the Vance family’s billion-dollar fortune? And Hugh… he gave himself far too much credit. The only reason I agreed to this union, the only reason I gave him a second glance, was because he was the man Celia Vance had her heart set on. And what could be more satisfying than stealing the one thing your enemy cherishes, using him completely, and then casting him aside? After all, my mother taught me from a young age: what is yours, you take back, by any means necessary. 1 My father clapped Hugh on the shoulder, his voice heavy with meaning. “I appreciate your devotion to Celia. After the wedding, I’ll transfer five percent of Vance Enterprises’ stock to you as compensation.” But Hugh refused flatly. “I don’t want compensation. When Celia gets back from her trip, I just want to be the one to explain this to her, to make it right.” Celia. Always the precious jewel they cradled in their hands. To avoid upsetting her, my father had conveniently sent her on an overseas vacation right before my wedding. I’d expected this, of course, but hearing the words spoken aloud still sent a familiar pang through my chest. I pursed my lips and turned away, quietly signaling my makeup artist to fetch the wedding ring I’d “forgotten.” What isn’t mine, I don’t want. But what is rightfully mine… you will never take from me. The ceremony reached its peak. With a perfect, demure smile, I linked my arm through my father’s and walked toward Hugh. He placed my hand solemnly into Hugh’s, patting our joined hands with a look of fatherly affection and concern. “Elara, you only just returned home… and with your mother gone so early, and me so busy with work… I haven’t been able to care for you properly. Now that you’re marrying Hugh, I can finally rest easy, knowing he’ll look after you.” I dug my nails into my own thigh, hard, until the sting brought tears to my eyes. I let out a choked sob and threw myself into my father’s arms. Peeking over his shoulder at Hugh, I whispered in a trembling, childish voice, “Daddy, what if… what if Hugh isn’t good to me?” Hugh’s body went rigid, his brow furrowing in a flicker of irritation. “Elara, I’ll be good to you for the rest of our lives.” A pathetic performance. I scoffed internally, ignoring him completely. Clinging to my father’s arm, I rocked it gently. “Daddy, do you remember when I was eight and threw a tantrum because I wanted a little brother to protect me?” “You spun me around and around, and you told me I was your one and only precious pearl, and that you would protect me forever.” My father’s smile faltered. He knew where this was going. But I pressed on, my voice dripping with manufactured innocence. “It was only later that I learned Mommy couldn’t have any more children after she had me. But you never cared about the rumors, about people saying you needed a son to be the ‘pillar of the family.’ You always took such good care of us.” “Even after Mom passed away five years ago, you never remarried or had other children. Daddy, thank you. Thank you for giving all your love to just me and Mom.” Coming from anyone else, such words would have melted a father’s heart. But my father had a secret mistress and two secret children tucked away in the shadows. He had always treated me like a naive little princess, assuming I was clueless about his affair, about the second family he’d raised behind our backs. His plan was to use this very reception to bring his mistress and illegitimate children out into the open, to force me to accept them. I wouldn’t give him the chance. Before he could muster a response, the guests began to murmur their approval. “Harrison Vance is famous for doting on his wife and daughter. He’s a true role model in our circle.” “A man of such high moral character, it’s no wonder he’s built such an empire. He’s an inspiration to us all.” My father prized his public image above all else. The praise from his peers sealed his lips shut. His face was a mask of strained discomfort as he instinctively glanced toward the audience, where I knew Madeline and her son, Caleb, were sitting. Their faces were tight, their fists clenched. Their long-planned ambush had been effortlessly dismantled by my “innocent” little speech, and now they were all squirming, trapped in the spotlight. I kept my expression pure and deeply moved, but inside, I was fighting back a triumphant laugh. My father sighed heavily, but I wasn’t done yet. I decided to turn up the heat. “Daddy,” I said, my voice clear and loud. “Even though I’m getting married, I’ll still be your only child, right? Your most precious pearl, forever and ever?” 2 A sharp, audible gasp from my father. I beamed, my eyes wide with expectation, locking him in place. If he admitted it, here, in front of everyone, that I was his only child, then Celia and Caleb would be condemned to the shadows forever. If he denied it, all the praise he’d just accepted would turn into a hail of scorn, branding him a hypocrite. Down in the audience, Madeline’s fist was clenched so tight her knuckles were white. This man, so decisive and ruthless in the boardroom, was now paralyzed by the simplest of questions. The loving smile vanished from his face, replaced by a storm of conflict. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Hugh shot a panicked look from my father to me, his expression twisting into one of pure disgust. “Elara, don’t push him. Can we please just continue the ceremony?” So, they were allowed to plot against me, but my fighting back was an inconvenience? I turned my head away petulantly. “No. Daddy hasn’t answered my question yet. I spent so many years alone overseas… I feel so insecure. I just need his promise. I need to know that whether I’m married or not, I’ll always be his only child, that he’ll never abandon me.” Perhaps it was guilt over my mother’s death. Perhaps it was the social blade held to his neck. Whatever the reason, my father finally broke. “Elara, don’t overthink things,” he conceded, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “How could I ever abandon you? You will always be my only child.” Victory. I threw my arms around him again. “Daddy, I love you so much!” The hall erupted in applause. In my peripheral vision, I saw Madeline and Caleb rise from their seats, their faces black with rage, and storm out of the room. The look Hugh was giving me now wasn’t just disgust; it was pure hatred. I, however, savored it. I loved seeing him despise me while being forced to play the part of the doting husband. Amidst the cheers and applause, Hugh and I exchanged rings. When it came time for the groom to kiss the bride, he hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin, resistant line. I just smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Just then, the grand doors of the hall were thrown open with a crash. Celia stormed in, her face a mask of fury. She marched right up to me and slapped me hard across the face. Her eyes were bloodshot. “You little homewrecker! You stole my boyfriend!” I didn’t feel anger. I felt a flicker of amusement. After all, I was the one who’d secretly leaked the wedding details to her. Celia turned to Hugh, tears streaming down her face, her voice a pathetic wail. “Hugh, why? Why would you marry this woman?!” Hugh shoved me away instinctively. He took a step toward her, then froze, his fists clenching at his sides, his eyes filled with pain. The guests broke into a frenzy of whispers. “Who is that? Does she have a death wish, trying to steal Harrison Vance’s son-in-law?” “Seriously, they’re already married. To make a scene like this… how shameless.” Even under the weight of their scorn, Celia held her head high with an air of defiant arrogance. I looked at Hugh, my voice trembling with practiced vulnerability. “Who is this girl? Hugh, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” A vein throbbed in Hugh’s temple, but he remained silent. “Hugh,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Now that we’re married, you need to get your affairs in order. Please don’t let people like her humiliate me like this. It… it scares me.” Perhaps I played the part of the fragile victim too well. They both underestimated me completely. Hugh finally spoke, his voice low and placating. “Celia, it’s not what you think. Go home for now. I’ll explain everything later, okay?” Celia looked like she was about to strike me again, but my father, ever conscious of the situation, boomed, “Enough!” She shot me one last hateful glare before spinning on her heel and leaving. I watched her go, a deep, cold hatred churning in the pit of my stomach. My mother’s death was not an accident, and I knew she and her family were involved. I was back now. And I was taking everything: the inheritance, the company, and the truth. 3 After that fiasco, neither my father nor Hugh had any appetite for entertaining guests. This gave me the perfect opportunity to mingle, making my face known to the titans of industry present. As things stood, I was, undeniably, the sole heir to Vance Enterprises. These corporate sharks, seeing how “malleable” I appeared, were all too eager to offer their support, their eyes gleaming with greed and calculation. My informant inside the Vance mansion told me that my father had postponed his plan to publicly announce his other family. Predictably, this led to a tearful, dramatic scene. It took hours of placating from my father to calm Madeline and her two children. Even Hugh, my brand-new husband who should have been with me, rushed over on the pretext of an “urgent business matter.” I can only imagine what new scheme they concocted to pacify the trio. In the end, Hugh was seen escorting Celia to her room. He didn’t emerge for two hours. He finally returned home at three in the morning and went straight to the study to sleep. The next day, Madeline, who had been my father’s executive assistant, was inexplicably promoted to Chief Financial Officer. Caleb went from a bottom-rung position at the main office to being appointed President of a subsidiary. Celia received the deed to a luxurious waterfront villa. And me? His legitimate daughter? To this day, I had never even set foot inside the corporate headquarters. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to be there. My people—or rather, my mother’s people—were already inside. I also heard my father was establishing a new charity, “The Crestwood Foundation.” A thinly veiled attempt at legitimacy. Anyone with half a brain could see it was a fund for Caleb and Celia. The moment Hugh left for work, I made a call. “It’s time. And one more thing. Caleb is at the subsidiary now. He’s an incompetent, greedy, lecherous fool. Give him enough rope to hang himself. I want him to create the biggest disaster possible.” I had just hung up when I heard a key in the front door. I assumed it was Hugh, having forgotten something. But it was Celia. And behind her stood three menacing thugs. My eyes darted around the living room, taking in the evidence of my “work” from the previous night. I instinctively shrank back, my body trembling as I retreated further into the room. “What… what are you doing here? How do you have a key to my house?” “This is breaking and entering! It’s illegal!” My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone to call the police, but Celia swatted it out of my hand with a contemptuous slap. A vicious kick sent me sprawling to the floor. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. “Look at you, you pathetic little coward. How dare you steal my father? How dare you steal my Hugh?!” “You should have followed your dead mother’s example and gone straight to hell!” 4 I grabbed her wrist, struggling with all my might. “Who are you?! Don’t you dare insult my mother!” Celia sneered, striking me twice more across the face. “Listen up, you little bitch. My name is Celia Vance. Harrison Vance is my father, and I am his most beloved daughter!” “You’re nothing but a burden he dumped overseas, a nuisance who crawled her way back!” “It’s all your fault! Because of you, my family can’t be together openly!” My eyes widened in feigned disbelief, my voice quivering. “You’re lying! My father would never have another daughter!” Celia roared with laughter, only stopping after she’d beaten me until blood trickled from my nose and mouth. She looked down at me like I was trash. “A daughter is nothing,” she mocked. “I have a brother, too. And he is the true heir to the Vance fortune!” “I’m here to give you a warning. Get out of the country, or you’ll end up worse than your mother.” “And to think I brought all these guys to deal with you. You’re just as useless as that dead bitch you call a mother!” Something inside me snapped. “You can say whatever you want about me,” I screamed, “but you do not talk about my mother!” Fueled by rage, I lunged forward and sank my teeth into her wrist. Celia shrieked in pain. The three thugs immediately swarmed me, their fists and feet raining down on my body. Each dull thud was punctuated by Celia’s furious screams. “Little bitch! You dare bite me? Beat her! Beat her to death!” Someone stomped on my hand, grinding their heel into my knuckles. I felt a rib crack under a savage kick. I bit down hard, the taste of blood flooding my mouth. The world spun, and then everything went black. When I woke up, it was evening. I was in a VIP room at a private hospital, my body a symphony of pain. My father and Hugh were sitting by my bed. Seeing my eyes open, my father gripped my hand, his face etched with guilt. “Elara, you’re finally awake. You had me so worried.” I winced, my voice a weak rasp. “Dad… is it true? What she said? Do you really have another son and daughter?” He looked down, sighing heavily. It was a long moment before he spoke. “Elara, I’ve done you a great wrong. But Celia… she’s a sweet, kind-hearted girl. Once you get to know her, I’m sure you’ll grow to love her.” Tears of cold fury slid down my temples. “Dad, she beat me like this, and you’re telling me she’s kind?” Hugh quickly jumped to her defense. “Celia isn’t like that. There must have been some kind of misunderstanding.” I had wanted to give them one last chance, but their loyalties were clear. There was no point in wasting any more words. Just then, my father’s assistant burst into the room, his face pale with terror. “Mr. Vance, it’s terrible! The news… it’s leaked. About your mistress and… and the two children…” My father shot up from his chair, his voice cracking. “What did you say?!” The assistant held out his phone, his hand trembling. “It’s a top trending story. I… I don’t think we can contain this…” The battle-hardened businessman lost his composure. “How did this happen?!” he roared. “This is a complete humiliation!” “It seems… it seems Miss Celia let it slip…” the assistant stammered. At that moment, Hugh’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately. Celia’s terrified shriek echoed from the speaker. “Hugh, help me!” The color drained from Hugh’s face. “Celia, don’t be afraid! I’m on my way!” He snapped his phone shut and bolted from the room. My father was frantic. “What’s wrong with Celia?!” No one answered. He chased after Hugh, not sparing me a second glance. Watching them scramble away, I felt no disappointment. Only a rising tide of dark satisfaction. I had played their game for long enough. Now, the real show was about to begin.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386915”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • A World Away from Him

    The awards ceremony ended, and so did we. I broke up with Liam Walker, Crestwood PD’s golden boy. “All this because I gave the commendation for the serial killer case to Lily?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yes.” “Fine,” he said, the smirk never wavering. “Just don’t come crying back to me.” From the academy to the city precinct, we had been partners for a decade. Everyone said we were a perfect match. He was convinced that without him, I was nothing. So he ignored me, again and again. Betrayed me, again and again. He chose a junior colleague over me and stole the honor that should have been mine. But the commendation was just an excuse. The truth was, my transfer orders had come in yesterday. I was leaving Crestwood for Veridian City, a world away from him. This time, I was truly done with him. From now on, our paths would never cross again. 1. “I’m the one who ended it. I won’t have any regrets.” “Do you even remember how many times you’ve said that?” He leaned back in his chair, the picture of nonchalance. “Was it the 97th time? 98th? Or 99th?” He was right. I’d lost count of how many times I’d used breaking up as a threat. But even so, he and Lily Evans never stopped their little dance. A colleague nearby chuckled. “Come on, Claire, what’s the drama? You can’t live without Liam.” I ignored them all, silently packing the belongings on my desk. “Claire, stop the theatrics. You’re not going to quit your job over this, are you?” When I didn’t respond, he strode over, grabbing my arm so hard I stumbled. Just then, Lily’s cheerful voice cut through the tension. “Liam, my parents want to take a trip down south. You have so much experience, could you help them plan an itinerary?” The old me would have exploded right then and there, calling him out for his lack of boundaries and her for her shameless advances. But what was the point? Nearly a hundred arguments had only pushed them closer together. Seeing that neither of us was paying her any attention, the smile finally fell from Lily’s face. Her eyes reddened, and she began to sob. “Liam… Claire… please don’t fight because of me.” She wiped at her tears, her voice choked. “This commendation… I begged him for it. My family… we’re going through a hard time, and I really needed the bonus and the honor. He only gave it to me because he felt sorry for me. Claire, please don’t blame him. It’s all my fault.” It was a masterful performance, painting her as a pitiful victim of circumstance. If I pressed the issue now, I would look like a bully. Liam, his heartstrings thoroughly tugged, handed her a tissue. Watching his tender gesture, the eight years of frustration and hurt I had suppressed erupted all at once. “Do you two really take me for a fool? Liam, the night you didn’t come home, it was Lily who answered your phone. She said you were in the shower.” “That black jacket you’re wearing—that’s Lily’s, isn’t it? And the white shirt she wore two days ago? That was the birthday gift I gave you. The embroidery on the cuff took me two weeks.” The office fell silent. Everyone stared at me, shocked. In their eyes, I had always been the gentle, good-tempered Claire Reed. They had never seen me this furious. “You two are disgusting,” I spat. Liam stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief. “Claire, have you lost your mind? How could you say that about Lily? How could you try to ruin a young girl’s reputation?” Seeing him leap to her defense, righteous and indignant, I suddenly found it all laughable. Without another word, I turned and walked away. All night, my phone buzzed incessantly. Notifications from Liam. Restaurant reservation successful. Hotel room confirmed. Your takeout order is on its way. Your Durex delivery has been dispatched. He was just trying to provoke me. The old me would have already called him, begging him to come back. But this time, I truly didn’t care. 2. Just as the sky began to lighten, I saw Lily’s new social media post. A photo of an elegant Western-style breakfast, captioned: “A new day starts with a beautiful breakfast.” In the corner of the photo was a man’s hand, knuckles well-defined. On his ring finger was a ring. The one I had saved up for three months to have custom-made. The only one of its kind in the world. I commented directly below the picture: “A whore and a dog, till death do you part.” Not long after I posted it, my doorbell rang. Standing at the door was a bouquet of vibrant red roses. I froze for a second, then remembered. Today was my three-year anniversary with Liam. After eight years together, he still didn’t remember that I hated red roses. That I loved lilies. An image of his smug face flashed in my mind—ordering flowers for me after a night with her. The thought was sickening. My phone lit up with a message from him: “Happy Anniversary.” How ironic. I kicked the offensive bouquet across the hallway and, without a moment’s hesitation, blocked and deleted his number. A cake delivery guy, just stepping out of the elevator, stared at the mess in shock. He was holding a mango layer cake. A shame. I was allergic to mango. “It’s yours,” I said, slamming the door shut. The “thud” was the only sound before the tears started streaming down my face. What had I been to him for these past eight years? Less than a pet dog. For him, I had given up a prestigious position with the Forensics Unit in Veridian City to stay in this small town. Looking back, the regret was overwhelming. A man like him was never worth sacrificing my future for. Blocked, Liam sent a message from an unknown number: “Don’t be angry. You’re talented enough to get a commendation on the next big case. Don’t be so petty.” He still didn’t get it. It was never about the damn commendation. It was about the betrayal. Shaking off the thoughts, I started packing. The apartment was filled with his things; mine were few and far between. Suddenly, I remembered I’d left the autopsy report for the serial killer case at the office. After some hesitation, I went back to the Crestwood PD. As I passed the squad room, I heard familiar voices. “Captain Walker, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. So she blocked you? She’ll unblock you eventually.” “This is the first time she’s ever blocked me,” he said with a wry, careless laugh. “What did you do to make our ice queen so mad?” a colleague joked. “It was just about the commendation.” “That’s it? Does our top ME really need one more commendation? It was good to give it to Lily. Poor kid’s been living in Claire’s shadow. If it wasn’t for you, she probably would’ve never gotten one in her life.” I walked straight past them. The noisy room fell instantly silent, broken only by a few awkward coughs. So, they did feel embarrassed when caught gossiping. Liam rushed over and grabbed my wrist, his brow furrowed. “Claire, what is this really about? Can’t we just talk?” But I had no time for him. Because inside the forensics lab, Lily was flipping through my autopsy report, a strange smile on her face. “Let go of me!” I yanked my arm free from Liam’s grip, stormed into the lab, and slapped Lily hard across the face. She clutched her cheek, staring at me in shock. “Are you sick? Do you just get off on stealing other people’s things?” I bent down, snatched my report off the floor, and glared at her. “Stealing my man wasn’t enough? Then you tried to get my job right after graduation, manipulated Liam into stealing my commendation, and now you’re putting your hands on my case files?” “Claire! How could you hit her!” Liam burst in, immediately pulling Lily into his arms. Burrowing into his chest, Lily started her waterworks. “I… I wasn’t trying to steal it. I just admire you so much, Claire. I wanted to see what one of your reports looked like… I didn’t mean any harm…” I knew she would play the victim whether I hit her or not. I might as well get the satisfaction. “Admire me? Lily, you have a strange way of showing it. Admiring me so much you have to take everything that’s mine.” 3. “Claire, have you made enough of a scene?” Liam’s voice was tight with anger as he held Lily even closer. “This is between us. Leave her out of it!” I strode forward. Before he could react, I swung my arm and landed another loud, stinging slap squarely across his face. His eyes blazed with fury, but I knew he wouldn’t dare hit me back here, at the precinct, in front of everyone. Just as I predicted, he clenched his jaw, forcing his anger down. “Claire Reed,” he said through gritted teeth, “you have just assaulted a colleague. I will be reporting this to Internal Affairs.” As they walked away, Lily clinging to him, I called out after them, my voice loud and clear. “Good. I’ll be reporting Captain Walker and Dr. Evans for their inappropriate relationship and for bringing disgrace to this department. Let’s see who goes down first!” Liam’s steps faltered for a moment before he hurried Lily away even faster. My colleagues from the forensics unit gathered around me, offering clumsy words of comfort. “Claire, calm down. Captain Walker is just confused right now…” “Yeah, you two have been through so much. This will all blow over in a few days.” “That Lily, honestly… don’t let her get to you.” I straightened the report in my hands. “It’s fine,” I said coolly. “I’m not upset. We’ve already broken up, anyway.” The air froze. “I don’t believe you” was written on every single face. Of course, they didn’t believe it. No one would believe that I could ever leave Liam Walker. Back at the academy, we had been the light in each other’s lives, the ones who saved each other. We were the campus’s golden couple. Everyone knew how much he doted on me—enough to pluck the stars from the sky, enough to cut ties with his own family for my sake. He’d even used his entire life’s savings right after graduation to pay off the massive gambling debts my parents had left behind. Everyone said he had saved me. But he always told them, “We saved each other. If I hadn’t met Claire, I might not have had the courage to keep living.” From the moment I pulled him back from that rooftop ledge, we became each other’s anchor. Everyone said Claire Reed was madly in love, that she couldn’t survive without Liam Walker. All of that began to curdle the day Lily, our junior, appeared. Our world of two suddenly had a third. She was always there, chirping “Liam” this and “Claire” that, her familiarity feeling both natural and intrusive. At a class reunion, someone joked that we looked like a “happy little family of three.” But I knew. She was after Liam. From the first moment that fragile-looking junior timidly called me “Claire,” I knew our story was about to change. I first met her at the precinct entrance. It was her first day as a forensic intern, and she arrived in Liam’s car. When she got out of the passenger’s side, she was holding a half-eaten bag of spicy chips. That seat. Liam had once sworn to me, “This is Queen Claire’s throne. No one else is allowed to sit here.” The smell of artificial spice hit me, and I saw greasy fingerprints all over the limited-edition action figure on the dashboard. My brow tightened, and anger flared inside me. But Liam just placated me. “She’s my professor’s niece, Claire. She’s young and doesn’t know any better. Don’t stoop to her level.” That night, we had the biggest fight of our lives. And that night, for the very first time, I said the word “breakup.” The second time I saw her was at the restaurant where Liam and I had our first date. The two of them were laughing together. Liam was rambling about how I didn’t know how to dress, how Lily was so much more vibrant. The moment he saw me, he rushed to explain. “I was just about to call you! My professor asked me to show Lily around, and she chose this place.” Lily stood up timidly. “Claire… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this restaurant was special to you and Liam…” I looked at the food already on their table and my anger boiled over. I calmly suggested we break up again, then grabbed my stunned best friend’s arm and stormed out. Incidents like these became more and more frequent. He made too many exceptions for her. I fought back, again and again, and the only result was that they grew closer. I couldn’t bear to throw away all our years together. After every fight, all it took was for him to soften his tone, to murmur a few sweet words, and I would forgive him. I gave him a hundred chances. Until the awards ceremony, when he gave the commendation that was rightfully mine to Lily. In that moment, he used up his very last chance. 4. The day I went to the precinct to pick up my transfer papers, I ran into Liam and Lily. It was no surprise. They were wearing matching jackets, like a couple. I remembered asking him to wear matching outfits with me, and he’d always called me childish. Now, here he was, doing it willingly. When he saw me walk past him without a glance, Liam hurried to catch up. “Do you have to be like this? Are you really going to throw away our entire future over one commendation?” Lily rushed over too, her eyes red and tearful. “Claire, please don’t blame Liam. It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you two wouldn’t have…” Her words were cut short by a sudden commotion. A man with a twisted expression, looking completely unhinged, was charging toward us, brandishing a gleaming dagger. “Look out!” Liam yelled instinctively. In that instant, time seemed to crawl. His eyes darted between me and Lily. In that split second, without a shred of hesitation, he spun around and threw his body over the crying girl, shielding her completely. The dagger, fueled by a madman’s hatred, came straight for me. I wasn’t defenseless, but his choice—his instant, unthinking choice to protect her—stunned me. My reaction was half a second too slow. Darkness swarmed my vision as my colleagues surged forward and subdued the attacker. Liam, still holding the terrified Lily, looked back at me. His handsome face was a canvas of panic… and guilt. He started to move toward me, but Lily clung to him, her grip like a vise. I woke up in the hospital. “Where’s Liam?” “He took Lily home. He said she was terrified and needed someone with her.” I closed my eyes and said nothing more. A little while later, I saw Lily’s new post. He was at the mall with her. Shopping. I stared at the picture for a long, long time. The wound on my arm throbbed, but my heart was calm. I felt no ripples, no waves. So this is what it feels like for a heart to die. No tears, no drama. Not pain, not even an ache. Just… nothing. Soon, a message from him arrived. “Claire, get some rest. I have to go out of town for an assignment. Be good and wait for me to come home, okay?” He must have thought that because I’d unblocked him, I had forgiven him, just like all the other times. He was wrong. I had only unblocked him to tell him about my transfer. But now, it seemed, there was no need. I blocked him again and boarded the plane to Veridian City. 5. When Liam Walker saw he’d been blocked again, his brow furrowed in irritation. But the notice for an urgent assignment quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He told himself Claire was just throwing another tantrum. He’d go back and smooth things over, just like he always did. Beside him, Lily saw the look on his face and gently took his arm. “Liam, what’s wrong? Are you tired? Let me get you some coffee.” He allowed her to fuss over him, temporarily shelving his annoyance with Claire. It wasn’t until a regional conference that he overheard a conversation from the forensics table. “Did you hear Claire Reed put in for a transfer to Veridian City? Such a shame, she’s a brilliant ME.” “Yeah, I heard it’s already finalized. She’s already gone.” A strange sense of dread coiled in Liam’s stomach.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386914”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • A Winter’s Promise of Spring

    I fell into a deep sleep that winter, only to awaken in another, seven years later. Dressed in a hospital gown and a tattered coat borrowed from a nurse, I was wandering the streets like a beggar when I saw him: my husband, giving an interview on a major financial news network. The reporter asked, “Mr. Holub, looking back on your journey, is there anyone you’re most grateful for?” My husband smiled. “There are many people I have to thank—my parents, the friends who built this company with me. But most of all,” he paused, his gaze softening, “I want to thank my wife.” “Aurora Bell.” 1 “I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes, but with no family member available to cover the subsequent cryogenic preservation fees, the Institute had no choice but to initiate an early reanimation.” I opened my eyes in a haze, assuming thirty years had passed. That winter, my battle with brain cancer had left me with a shaved head. “Leo, don’t look. I’m hideous.” At the time, medical science had no cure. To save my life, Leo Holub had placed me in a cryo-chamber, signing a thirty-year preservation agreement. He arranged for monthly payments to be made from his account. He’d said paying monthly would be a way to remember me every month. He signed for thirty years, promising that if he were gone before then, he’d leave his entire estate to continue the payments, enough to keep me preserved until a cure was found. If he was still alive after thirty years, he’d renew for another thirty, and another, until the day they could finally heal me. “What are you afraid of? You’re not hideous,” he’d said, gently caressing my cheek. “You always said a shaved head is the ultimate test of beauty. You’re just as beautiful now as you’ve always been.” “Besides,” he’d added with a soft smile, “by the time I get to wake you up, I’ll probably be a wrinkled old man. You’d better not find me too repulsive then, Winter.” “How long was I in the chamber?” On the front desk, I saw a business journal. On the cover was Leo, dressed in a tailored black suit, his tie knotted perfectly, leaning casually in an armchair. My Leo. Still so young, so handsome. “Ms. Hayes, the current date is December 1st, 2027. You entered cryo-sleep on December 25th, 2020. Because the payment for November was not received from the designated account, we chose to reanimate you this month.” “Also,” the receptionist added, “we’ll need you to settle the outstanding balance for November. The total is fifteen thousand dollars.” Fifteen thousand. That same cursed number. Once, for fifteen thousand dollars, my own father had nearly sold me to an old man. Now, for that same amount, I had lost my only hope for a future. “Did you try calling my husband?” I asked, confused. “He would have paid.” I used the Institute’s public phone and dialed Leo’s number from memory. It connected. “Leo, it’s me. It’s Winter,” I said, my voice catching in my throat. Seven years, Leo. Though for me it was merely the blink of an eye, for him it had been thousands of real, waking days. My heart ached for him. “Winter? Summer? I don’t know anyone by that name. You got the wrong number, lady!” a gruff, unfamiliar voice with a thick accent grumbled back, laced with irritation. Did I dial it wrong? I tried again, and again. The same man answered, his voice growing angrier with each call, until he was shouting. “I said you got the wrong number! Are you deaf?” On my last attempt, the call wouldn’t go through. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnected.” That’s when I finally understood. Leo had changed his number. 2 Leo never changed his number. He had promised me he wouldn’t, seven years ago. It was the autumn of 2020. The illness made me perpetually cold, and my vision was failing. I was walking to the hospital for a check-up, alone. At first, I could still make out the shapes of the sweet autumn blossoms lining the road, the hurried pedestrians, the children with their backpacks. Then, the world went dark, leaving only the lingering fragrance of the flowers. A kind stranger helped me to a bench. I didn’t dare move. The stranger tried calling Leo for me, dialing over a dozen times. No answer. “You can go,” I told them. “Thank you. My husband is probably busy. He’ll see the missed calls and come find me. I’ll just wait here.” After they left, I sat on that bench from morning until nightfall, terrified that if I moved, Leo would never find me. I just kept waiting. “Winter!” I turned my head toward the sound, my eyes vacant. The moment he saw them, he knew. I was blind. “Have you been waiting long?” He covered my eyes with his hands. “I was in meetings all day, I didn’t check my phone. It won’t happen again.” He took my hand, wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and guided me home. “It won’t happen again,” he’d repeated. “I’ve set your number to a priority contact, and I’ve set my number as the emergency contact on your phone. If you can’t see and can’t use the screen, just hit the emergency call button.” He guided my finger to the button on my phone, and his own phone began to ring. “My number will never change. I’ll always be the first person you can reach.” Nothing is forever. I picked up a discarded walking stick from the Institute’s lost and found, borrowed a winter coat from the receptionist, and left. Walking the streets, the city felt both familiar and alien. The roads were the same, but the storefronts were all different. Then I looked up and saw his face on a massive screen. Leo. He was still so young. Seven years had barely left a trace on him. In fact, like a fine wine, he had only grown more distinguished with time. The host was asking him, “Mr. Holub, who are you most grateful to for your incredible success?” “I have so many people to thank,” he said. “My parents, my friends and partners who struggled alongside me. But the person I am most grateful for is my wife.” He paused. “My wife, Aurora Bell.” “She has been my silent, unwavering support through it all.” On the screen, Leo’s smile was as gentle as it was the day he sent me into the cryo-chamber, as if he truly, deeply loved his wife. This woman named Aurora Bell. “So romantic,” a young woman passing by gushed to her friend. “I want a man like that someday.” I stared at the screen, desperately searching his face for any sign that this wasn’t him, but there was none. The faint scar above his eyebrow, the mole at the corner of his eye—every detail screamed that it was Leo. I pinched my thigh, hard. The pain was real. This wasn’t a dream from my long sleep. It was all real. Seven years later, Leo Holub had a new love in his life. Only I was still frozen in the past. I’ve always been the one left waiting. When I was five, my mother stroked my hair and said, “Mommy’s going to work. I’ll bring you back your favorite cotton candy.” The cotton candy at the street vendor was bigger than my five-year-old head. I waited excitedly all day, but all I got that evening was my father’s slap. My mother had run away. She never came back. The second time, I was seventeen. My bedridden grandmother suddenly found a burst of energy and promised to make me my favorite eggplant buns the next day. I sat on a stool by the stove, watching her knead the dough and prepare the filling. But the next day, the dough was still dough, the filling still filling. My grandmother had passed away in the night. The third time is now. I waited in a cryo-chamber, only to find Leo had married someone else. I wait, only to be abandoned. 3 I found my way to Leo’s company building. The receptionist was new. She looked me up and down. “Who are you? Who are you here to see? Do you have an appointment?” “No appointment. I’m here for Leo Holub.” I pulled the tattered coat tighter around myself. The December air was frigid. Cancer had wasted me down to skin and bones, and my head was still bare. “I’m his wife.” “His wife?” She scoffed at my appearance. “Ma’am, if you’re going to lie, at least come up with a better one.” She gestured with her chin toward a sofa. “And at least dress the part. There’s no way Mr. Holub’s wife would look like… you.” Her eyes scanned me from head to toe before she rolled them. “I really am his wife! We were married ten years ago!” “Do your homework before you try to scam someone. Mr. Holub has only been married for three years!” She waved over security. “Get her out of here. She’s bad for the company’s image.” Leo and I got our marriage license ten years ago, right after I turned twenty. It was partly for love, but also because I needed to escape my family. After my mother left, my father took up drinking and gambling. While my grandmother was alive, she could scrape together enough from odd jobs for my tuition, but after she died, the burden fell on me. I went to school during the day and worked as a tutor or at a bubble tea shop at night. My father would often steal my wages from my room. After he cleaned me out one time, I started giving my savings to Leo for safekeeping. We’d been together for three years by then. One day, while I was at work, my father called and said he’d fallen and hurt his leg. When I got home, I found a strange man in our apartment, his face flushed from drinking. He tried to drag me into the bedroom. My father had sold me for fifteen thousand dollars. I fought back with a knife, bit the man’s hand until I drew blood, and ran all the way to Leo’s apartment. “We should just get married,” he said, looking at me. “Then if your father ever tries to sell you again, he’ll have to go through me first.” He broke off a stem of a gardenia from a plant in the corner, fashioned it into a ring, and slid it onto my finger. “Someday, when I’ve made it, I’ll get you a real one.” He knelt on one knee. “Winter Hayes,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “will you marry the man in front of you? For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I will love you always. Not even death can do us part.” “I will,” I’d whispered, marrying my love. “Please, don’t throw me out,” I begged the security guards now. “Just let me make one phone call to him. Just one.” I smashed a glass display case on the counter and held a shard to my own neck. Everyone froze. The receptionist, trembling, dialed the CEO’s office. “Hello, who is this?” A woman’s voice answered. “I need to speak to Leo Holub. Tell him it’s Winter,” I cried, my voice frantic and desperate. “It’s Winter!” “I’m sorry, I don’t know you,” the woman said, her tone languid and superior. “And I’m sure Leo… he wouldn’t know you either.” “Aurora, who is it?” I could faintly hear a man’s voice in the background. “No one important. Probably a wrong number,” the woman’s voice replied, muffled. “Leo, darling, you get back to work. I won’t disturb you.” The glass shard fell from my hand, leaving a thin line of blood on my neck. Security guards swarmed me, dragging me out of the building and dumping me on the sidewalk. Through a blur, I thought I saw the flash of cameras. How would they write about me online? A fraud claiming to be Leo Holub’s wife? A delusional fan? My vision failed again, the tumor’s symptoms flaring up with the extreme stress. I collapsed to the ground, helpless. I couldn’t find my way. Leo, I can’t find my way home again.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386913”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Art of Elegant Payback

    1 Everyone said my husband, Rovan, and his childhood sweetheart, Selina, were sworn enemies. On our wedding day, she was the one person he pointedly didn’t invite. That all changed the night I went into labor. Rovan gently placed a pill in my mouth, whispering that it was for the pain. As my senses blurred, a sob broke through the door. “Rovan, the puppy you gave me… she’s not going to make it.” Rovan’s voice, softer and more tender than I had ever heard it, flowed like honey. “Don’t worry, Selina.” “I gave her something. She’ll be able to nurse soon. Bring your puppy in.” Selina’s voice was laced with worry. “But she hasn’t even had the baby yet. Forcing it with medication… it could be dangerous for her and the child.” Rovan’s tone turned to ice. “Then she shouldn’t have taken so long to give birth, leaving our puppy without milk. This is her own fault.” “As for the baby,” he added with chilling finality, “if he can save our dog’s life, it will be his greatest honor.” Every word was a needle piercing my heart. When I woke again, the searing pain in my chest confirmed the nightmare was real. I wiped the tears from my face and dialed the encrypted number. “Dad,” I choked out, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m ready to leave him and keep the baby.” … The next day, I was jolted awake by a fresh wave of agony. My eyes flew open to the garish splash of crimson staining the sheets beneath me, a brutal confirmation that this was no dream. I dragged myself to the door, my hand hovering over the handle when the voices outside froze me in place. “Offering a bounty for your own son’s heart’s blood… you’re really something else, Rovan,” Selina’s voice purred. Rovan let out a contemptuous laugh. “What choice do I have?” “After last night’s medication, the thing in her belly is probably defective. The Sterling family can’t have a stain like that on its name. I’m just cutting my losses.” Selina playfully punched his chest. “Just because I was going abroad, you had to marry someone else? And get her pregnant? What am I to you, really?” Rovan caught her hand, pulling her into his arms. “Are you jealous?” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “She’s just a placeholder. Besides, the kid isn’t even mine. On our wedding night, I paid some homeless guy off the street.” My body, pressed against the door, went rigid. My blood turned to ice. “Two hundred bucks, and she got knocked up with some stray’s kid,” he added, his voice dripping with the kind of disdain you’d reserve for trash. The sharp cramps in my belly were nothing compared to the agony ripping through my heart. The conversation outside continued. “I even recorded it.” “The way she acted… if she ever dares to disobey me, I’ll make sure the whole world gets a look.” “Send it to me! I have to see what the prim and proper Mrs. Sterling looks like behind closed doors,” Selina said, her voice giddy with excitement. “What’s the rush? Good things are meant to be shared. The guys are all waiting for a copy.” “All seven of them? You’re that generous?” “She’s just a toy. I never thought of her as my wife. Selina, the only one I’ve ever loved is you.” Each word was a poisoned blade, hacking my heart to pieces. I slid down the door, a warm, slick feeling spreading between my legs. The sounds of their grotesque panting filled the air; they couldn’t even wait to find a room. A violent pain tore through my abdomen. I tried to stand, but my limbs were useless. I don’t know how much time passed before the door was thrown open. Rovan saw me in the pool of blood, his pupils shrinking. “Eleanor!” he yelled, scooping me into his arms. In the last moment before darkness consumed me, I saw the panic etched on his face. I managed to twist my lips into a silent, bitter sneer. Rovan, who are you still performing for? When I woke again, the world was a blinding, sterile white. Rovan immediately grabbed my hand, his voice thick with fake concern. “Eleanor, how are you feeling?” The sight of his face made my stomach churn. I yanked my hand away. My other hand flew to my belly, a desperate, searching motion. I didn’t care who the father was; this was my child. Rovan misunderstood my panic. “The baby’s fine,” he rushed to assure me. “The doctor said you were just overwhelmed by stress.” I stared at him, my gaze as cold as a tombstone. “My due date is today. Why haven’t I delivered?” A flash of panic crossed his face. “Maybe… maybe the baby wants to stay with mommy a little longer.” I let out a hollow, mocking laugh. Just then, the hospital room door opened. Selina walked in, cradling a tiny puppy, her eyes fixed on Rovan with a look of pure distress. “Rovan, our puppy… she’s not doing well again.” He instantly took the dog from her and turned to me. “Eleanor, this dog means the world to Selina. Can you… can you please help her?” A cold smirk touched my lips. “How? By taking another one of your lactation pills like last night?” Rovan’s face paled. “You know?” I didn’t answer, just kept my eyes locked on him, a silent accusation. Suddenly, Selina fell to her knees in front of me, banging her head on the floor. “Eleanor, please don’t blame Rovan for last night! It was my fault, all my fault!” she wailed. “This puppy was his coming-of-age gift to me. I can’t just watch her die! Please, help me, I’m begging you!” Her forehead was already starting to bleed. Rovan, his face twisted with pain, pulled her up and glared at me. “I never knew you could be so cruel, just watching her beg you like this,” he snarled. “It’s just a little milk. It won’t cost you anything.” I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them see me break. “Never.” Selina’s eyes welled up with fresh tears. Suddenly, Rovan’s hand shot out, clamping around my neck as he forced another white pill into my mouth. It dissolved instantly, impossible to spit out no matter how much I gagged and struggled. A wave of unnatural heat washed over me. He approached with the puppy, ripped open my hospital gown, and exposed my chest. “Rovan, you can’t do this to me! You can’t treat me like some animal!” I screamed. His hand trembled for a second, but he still brought the whimpering puppy to my breast. When I thrashed wildly, he actually produced a pair of handcuffs and locked my wrist to the bed frame. I was completely powerless. I looked down in horror as the tiny animal latched on, its sharp teeth tearing at my sensitive skin. A searing pain ripped through me. I shrieked, my cries echoing in the sterile room, but Rovan just watched, his expression cold and unmoved. When it was finally over, I stared blankly at the ceiling, my spirit shattered. Rovan started to speak, but Selina suddenly went pale, swaying on her feet. “Rovan, my head… it hurts so much.” Without a second’s hesitation, he spun around, caught her as she fell, and rushed out of the room, carrying her in his arms. He never gave me a single backward glance. My heart plunged into an icy abyss. The drugs forced my due date back, day by day. With every check-up, the doctor’s eyes were filled with a pity I couldn’t bear. When I was finally discharged and returned home, I found Selina lounging on the living room sofa as if she owned the place. Rovan wasn’t surprised to see me. “Selina was injured and needs someone to look after her. She’ll be staying here from now on.” His words were a final, decisive blade, severing the last thread of hope I had left. “Fine,” I said, my voice utterly devoid of emotion. Arguing was pointless. He wouldn’t listen anyway. Why waste my breath? I ate my dinner in silence and went upstairs. That night, Rovan came into the room, reeking of Selina’s cloyingly sweet perfume. He cleared his throat and held out a bracelet. “I know you’ve had a rough few days. I bought this especially for you.” He tried for a softer tone. “I’ve always seen Selina as a sister. That dog is just… so important to her. I couldn’t let it die.” I took the bracelet without a word. He immediately pulled me into an embrace, his lips finding mine. “I knew you’d understand, honey. You’re the best.” I stared at a dark corner of the room, a glacial smile forming on my lips. The next morning, Selina blocked my path at the top of the stairs. She was holding that wretched dog, her hand outstretched. “The bracelet Rovan gave you last night. Give it back.” I took a step back. “My husband gave that to me. Why should I give it to you?” She let out a derisive snort. “It was a free gift that came with the necklace he bought me. They’re a set. I thought the bracelet was ugly, so he gave it to you. Now I’ve changed my mind. Hand it over.” Her voice was triumphant, completely certain I would bend to her will. Even though I thought I was prepared for anything, her words felt like a thousand tiny needles piercing my heart. The warmth he’d offered was nothing more than someone else’s discarded trash. “He gave it to me,” I said, my voice hoarse. “It’s mine now. If you want it back, have him ask me for it himself.” Before the words were even out of my mouth, she did the unthinkable. She hurled the puppy down the marble staircase. A sickening thud, and the yelping stopped. “Baby!” Selina shrieked, stumbling down the stairs. She collapsed beside the dog’s lifeless body, cradling it in her arms. Rovan rushed out, drawn by the commotion. The moment she saw him, Selina scrambled to her feet, clutching the dead dog, and started for the door. “I’m going home,” she whimpered. Sensing something was wrong, Rovan grabbed her arm. “Selina, what is it? What happened?” That was all it took. She collapsed into his chest, sobbing hysterically. “Rovan… our baby… our dog… I know she hates me, but she should have taken it out on me! Why… why did she have to do this to my puppy? He was my life!” Her grief was a spectacular performance. Rovan froze for a second, then his gaze shot to me, instantly turning venomous. He lunged, grabbing a handful of my hair and dragging me in front of Selina. My scalp screamed in protest. “Apologize to her!” he roared. I hung my head, my silence a defiant refusal. His patience snapped. “You brought this on yourself,” he hissed, his eyes flashing with a brutal light. He kicked the back of my knee, hard. I collapsed, my kneecaps slamming against the cold floor with a dull crack. The next moment, his leather shoe was grinding into my spine, forcing me to my knees. Selina’s sobs grew louder. “Baby was my child! She killed my child! Even if she apologizes, I’ll never forgive her!” “Then what do you want, Selina?” Her voice was pure poison. “A life for a life. She killed my child, so she’ll pay with hers!” My pupils contracted. A raw scream tore from my throat. “Rovan, this is my baby!” A flicker of something—doubt? regret?—crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “A life for a life, Eleanor. This is all your fault.” He yanked me to my feet. In a moment of pure, desperate rage, I lunged forward and bit down on his hand, hard. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. He roared in pain, his face contorting, and backhanded me across the face. I fell to the floor, stunned. Then his foot came up, slamming into my chest. Pain exploded through me. I curled into a ball, unable to move, unable even to draw a breath without a tearing sensation. Selina calmly handed him a thick wooden rod. “Rovan, she dared to attack you. Use this. Get rid of the bastard in her stomach.” Rovan gripped the rod, his knuckles white. For a heartbeat, he hesitated. “Selina, maybe we should just… let it go. This isn’t easy for her.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Rovan, do you love her now?” she whispered brokenly. “Have you forgotten? This was your gift to me. This was our baby.” His resolve hardened. “Fine. Then just let her apologize.” Selina smiled, a slow, cruel curve of her lips. She lifted her foot, showing me the dirt on her expensive shoe. “If you want me to forgive her, fine. Let her kneel down and lick my shoe clean. Then I might consider letting her and that thing in her belly live.” The thought of my baby, who hadn’t even had a chance to see the world, spurred me into action. I pushed through the agony, my body screaming in protest, and began to crawl towards her. A sharp, twisting pain shot through my abdomen, as if my child was silently begging me to stop. But this was my baby. And I had failed to protect him. I closed my eyes, squeezed them shut against the humiliation, and lowered my head. I licked her shoe clean. When I was done, she nodded with satisfaction. “You’re certainly good with your mouth. No wonder you got pregnant with a bastard on the first try.” She laughed, a sharp, ugly sound, tugging on Rovan’s arm. “Rovan, darling, we can let her live, but she has to pay. She’ll stay here all night and pray for my little baby’s soul.” Rovan didn’t object. He simply turned and left with her. I collapsed onto the floor, every ounce of strength gone. The pain in my stomach intensified, and the bleeding grew worse. “Don’t be afraid, little one,” I whispered, fumbling for my phone. “Mommy’s going to get us help.” My fingers trembled as I tried to dial, but the screen was dead. No signal. The next second, a flicker of orange caught my eye. Flames were leaping up from a corner of the room, and thick, acrid smoke began to fill the air. I bit my tongue, the sharp pain clearing my head for a moment. I crawled towards the main door, banging on it with what little strength I had left, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked from the outside. The heat was becoming unbearable, sweat pouring down my face. The fire crept closer, a hungry, roaring beast. The door remained sealed. I slumped against it, my hand resting on my belly. I’m so sorry, baby. Mommy couldn’t protect you. My vision blurred, the world dissolving into smoke and shadows. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I passed out. As Rovan was led away by Selina, a profound unease settled over him. He turned his head and saw a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386912”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Secret Bill

    I was on a business trip when I got the text: the power bill was past due. A wave of confusion washed over me. The bill was insanely high for this month, which made no sense. My wife and I were both out of town. The apartment should have been empty. I opened the utility company’s app and checked the daily usage. Sure enough, there was a steady draw every single day, and it wasn’t small. It looked like someone was running the air conditioner around the clock. I called my wife, Chloe. “Hey, when are you getting back?” Her sweet voice chirped on the other end. “Probably not until next week. It’s been raining nonstop, so the project’s delayed. What’s up? Miss me?” I told her I missed her too, but my fingers were already booking the first flight home for the morning. My own project had wrapped up early anyway. I decided not to tell her I was coming back ahead of schedule. 1 That exorbitant power bill was the first alarm. My immediate thought was that someone had broken in. I pulled up the smart lock app on my phone. But after checking the access log, I saw nothing. The door hadn’t been opened a single time in the last two weeks. My mind raced. Maybe a neighbor had messed with the wiring, siphoning our electricity. But this was an affluent area. It seemed beneath the residents here to commit a felony over a few hundred dollars on a utility bill. Still, I couldn’t think of any other explanation. Since my project was done, I caught the earliest flight the next morning and headed home. The apartment was empty, just as I expected. Chloe wasn’t there. I checked the drawers where we keep our valuables. Nothing was missing. That ruled out a simple burglary. Then I opened the closet. All of Chloe’s usual work clothes were gone. She was definitely on her business trip. After some thought, I went down to the building’s management office and asked them to check the wiring to my unit. “My power bill is through the roof,” I explained. “The apartment’s been empty, but we’ve racked up a three-hundred-dollar bill in two weeks.” The security guard on duty, a young guy with a friendly smile, nodded. “You got it, sir. I’ll get an electrician up there for you right away.” I led the guard and the electrician upstairs. The moment we got to the utility closet in the hall, I knew my neighbor-thief theory was dead. The meter box was locked. No one living in a building like this would go to such lengths just to steal a little electricity. I was back to square one. If it wasn’t a wiring issue, what the hell was going on? The electrician opened the panel and, after a few minutes of checking things over, turned to me. “Sir, I’ve had a look. There’s nothing wrong with your circuit.” I nodded, scrambling for a plausible excuse. “Okay, thanks. We must have forgotten to turn off the AC before we left.” The security guard smiled, revealing two prominent canines that gave him a boyish look. “Alright, sir. Just give us a call if you need anything else!” I nodded back. Back in the apartment, I searched every room again, turning the place upside down. There was no sign that anyone else had been there. Was the place haunted? I was lying on the bed, exhausted, when I heard the front door click open. I shot upright, grabbing the heavy vase from the nightstand and ducking behind the bedroom door. Was it the person who’d been squatting here? But then I heard the familiar rattle of a rolling suitcase. I lowered the vase and stepped out. It was Chloe. Her face lit up when she saw me. “Honey! You’re back early too!” She threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. I was confused. “I thought you said your project was delayed.” “It was,” she said, pulling back. “The rain in Austin just wouldn’t let up. We were just wasting the company’s money sitting around, so our boss sent us home.” I nodded. That made sense. Her work was primarily setting up outdoor exhibitions. A second later, she looked at me with a playful smile. “So, what about you? What’s your excuse for coming home early?” It’s not that I’d never had a flicker of doubt about Chloe, but I’d never found anything to substantiate it. Besides, she was also linked to the utility app; she’d see the bill eventually. I decided to tell her the truth. “The power bill was crazy high, even with both of us gone,” I said. “I was worried someone had gotten in, so I came back to check. I didn’t want to worry you.” To my surprise, Chloe giggled. “Oh, that! It’s because we forgot to turn off the AC when we left! I only noticed it yesterday and shut it off remotely.” A wave of relief washed over me. So it was all just a false alarm. But later that night, after dinner, something still felt off. I opened my network manager app and checked the connection history. There was a new device listed: an iPhone 16 Plus. 2 My blood ran cold. Someone had been in our apartment. So why did Chloe lie? And if someone was here, how did they get past the smart lock without leaving a trace? I didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, I went back down to the management office. The friendly guard with the canines wasn’t there; a different guard wearing glasses was at the desk. “Can you tell me if I’ve had any visitors recently?” My apartment is a full-floor residence, so checking the elevator security footage for my level is easy. The guard pulled up the recordings for the past two weeks. We watched the footage. Nothing. Not a single person got off on my floor. This was getting bizarre. Could the network manager app be bugged? I was distracted and unproductive all day at work. When I got home, I collapsed onto the sofa in a foul mood. Chloe came over, her hands behind her back, and snuggled up next to me with a grin. “What’s wrong, honey? Why the long face?” I frowned, about to push her away, but she suddenly revealed what she was hiding. A brand new phone. “Ta-da! I was going to wait for your birthday, but you’ve seemed so down lately, I decided to give it to you early!” My eyes went wide. I couldn’t believe it. It was the first new phone I’d ever owned since we got married. I always got Chloe’s hand-me-downs when she upgraded. Even though we could easily afford it, she was always frugal when it came to electronics. I was so happy I was speechless. “Is… is this really for me?” Chloe beamed. “Of course! My husband works so hard. You deserve a little reward, don’t you think?” She leaned in and planted a loud kiss on my cheek. A wave of euphoria washed over me, instantly followed by a pang of guilt. Damn it. My wife was so good to me, and here I was suspecting her of cheating. As for the router thing, it was probably just a neighbor piggybacking on our Wi-Fi. Or maybe the app was just glitchy. I tore off the plastic wrap and powered on the new phone. I wanted to transfer everything from my old one. But as I went to log in with my Apple ID, I saw that an account was already signed in. That was impossible. I had just broken the seal myself. How could it have been used before? Did Chloe get scammed? Did she buy a refurbished phone to save a few bucks? I stood up, ready to ask her what was going on. But then I stopped. Too many strange things had happened lately. Should I confront her now? I hesitated. A new, darker curiosity took hold. I wanted to know who the phone’s original owner was. I opened the photo album, hoping for a clue. There were two pictures. One was a blurry shot taken somewhere in our apartment complex. The other was taken inside my home. And in the corner of that second photo, there was a part of a man’s hand—tanned skin, long fingers. 3 Son of a bitch. Chloe was cheating on me. Both photos were blurry, probably taken by accident when the screen was touched. She was using my money to buy her lover a phone, and now she was giving me his hand-me-down. Chloe. You’ve got some nerve. We’d been together since college. All those years, and I had no idea when it had started. I worked my ass off, spending two-thirds of the year on the road, all so I could give her a good life. And this whole time, she was making a fool of me. I shut the bedroom door, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag. Stay calm, I told myself. Just then, the door burst open. Chloe stood there, her hands on her hips. “Leo, are you smoking in the house again?” I stubbed out the cigarette and went to open the window. I was going to catch this bastard, and I was going to do it today. But I still couldn’t figure it out. How did they get in and out without triggering the smart lock? I searched online for security flaws with that model but came up empty. I turned back to Chloe and started rubbing her shoulders. “Sorry, work’s been a nightmare. I just needed one. I’m done.” She let out a haughty little “hmph” and walked away. I used to find that aloofness charming, like a feisty little kitten. Now I knew she was just trash. Alone again, I went to her side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. I counted the condoms. Two full boxes were missing. And tucked away in the back was a bottle of lube I’d never seen before. So they were having fun. That night, when she reached for me in bed, her hand tracing the line of my abs, I subtly shifted away. “I’m exhausted, honey. Big project review tomorrow. We should get some sleep.” Chloe huffed in annoyance and rolled over. The next day, I went to work as usual, but my eyes were glued to the network manager app on my phone. I was waiting for him. It didn’t take long. Shortly after I arrived at the office, the iPhone 16 Plus appeared on my network. Perfect. They waited until they knew I was at work. I grabbed my subordinate, Kevin. “Something’s come up at home. I have to step out. Call me if there’s an emergency.” “You got it, Leo!” he said. I floored it. The car’s speedometer needle was practically screaming. I turned a fifteen-minute drive into a five-minute blur. I parked the car and sprinted upstairs. When I burst into the apartment, I found Chloe in the kitchen, wearing an apron, humming as she cooked. She was always a homebody when she wasn’t traveling for an exhibition. She looked up, surprised. “You’re back? Did you forget something?” I ignored her and stormed through the apartment, ripping open closets, checking behind curtains, looking under the bed, even scanning the balconies. Nothing. Besides Chloe, the apartment was empty. “Where is he?” I demanded. “The guy with the tan!” Chloe followed me into the bedroom, her face a mask of confusion. “What man? Leo, what’s gotten into you?” I took a deep breath, trying to control my rage. Where the hell could he have hidden? Chloe’s voice trembled. “Leo! What is going on?” I couldn’t keep up the act anymore. I shot her a look of pure ice. But she just put on a gentle, concerned expression and began setting the table with the food she’d prepared. “Is work that stressful? Look how worked up you are. Since you’re here, you might as well eat. I made your favorite, braised pork.” “I’m not hungry,” I grunted. “Too much going on at the office.” That food wasn’t for me. Chloe was obsessive about her figure. When I was away, she lived on salads and protein shakes. The braised pork was definitely for someone else. I turned and headed for the management office again. “I need to see today’s security footage for my floor.” It was the guard with the canine teeth again. He nodded and pulled up the feed. We watched it twice. The only person who used the elevator on my floor was me, leaving in the morning and returning just now. Not a single other soul. Was her lover a damn ghost?

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386911”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • A Debt for My Daughter

    My husband, Robert, took our five-year-old daughter, Lily, to a client dinner with Ava, the woman he’d always loved. During the dinner, he sent Lily out alone to a pharmacy to buy allergy medicine for Ava. While crossing an intersection, our daughter was hit by a speeding motorcycle and thrown dozens of feet. The hospital called me. When I arrived, Lily was still clutching the box of allergy medicine in her tiny hand. With her last ounce of strength, she whispered, “Mommy, Auntie Ava… medicine…” After she closed her eyes, her hand fell limp, and the box of pills clattered to the floor. My world shattered. I called Robert dozens of times before he finally picked up. But before I could scream at him, his voice cut through the line, sharp and angry. “I sent Lily to get the medicine, where is she? Call her and hurry her up, Ava’s waiting!” He hung up before I could speak. When I tried to call back, I found he had blocked my number. Fine. In that case, your precious Ava can join my daughter in the grave. 1 I spent the entire next day making arrangements for my daughter. The hospital staff looked at me with eyes full of pity. For a full forty-eight hours, there was not a single word from my daughter’s father. A decade of love, gone in an instant. I didn’t eat or drink. I just printed the divorce papers and waited. I waited all day for him to come home. When he finally walked through the door, his first words to me were: “Where’s the medicine I told you to have Lily bring? Did she take a detour to the moon? Do you have any idea she put Ava in the hospital for two days?” A cold, bitter laugh threatened to escape my lips. She took a detour to heaven, actually. He yanked off his jacket with an air of profound irritation and threw it on the sofa. The scent of a woman’s perfume I didn’t recognize assaulted my senses. I wrinkled my nose and reflexively took an allergy pill from the drawer. He saw the movement, his eyes narrowing. “What are you trying to pull?” he snapped. “Ava has an alcohol allergy, so you have to copy her? If she’s in the hospital, why aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Where’s Lily? Get her out here right now to apologize to Ava! It’s a testament to Ava’s kindness that she isn’t blaming her. She’s covered in a rash and still defending your daughter! Look at how you’ve spoiled that child.” “I’m going to teach her a lesson today!” I forced down the inferno raging in my chest and slapped the divorce papers down on the coffee table in front of him. “Sign them. You don’t need to trouble my daughter anymore. You have no right to discipline her. I’ll get out of your way.” My words ignited his fury. He stomped on the papers, grinding them into a mangled pulp under his shoe. “Your daughter did something wrong, and now you’re throwing a tantrum? Just because Ava is forgiving doesn’t mean I’ll continue to indulge Lily’s behavior!” he roared. “I try to discipline my own child and you want a divorce? Are you insane?” Every word was a hammer blow, turning my heart to bloody ruin. I shot to my feet, the world turning black for a moment. I steadied myself, my voice shaking with restrained violence. “Discipline her? What exactly did my daughter do wrong? What heinous crime did she commit that required you, her father, to send her out alone at night to buy medicine? Do you have any idea what happened to her on the way—” “Oh, for God’s sake, are you ever going to shut up?” Robert cut me off, his voice laced with venom. “What’s the big deal? I sent her to buy medicine. The streets are full of people, what could possibly happen? Did she run to you crying again? Why is she so coddled!” He roughly pulled a small, gift-wrapped box from his suit pocket and slammed it down in front of me. “Is this enough to shut you up? Now get Lily out here. I’ll talk to her myself. From now on, when I discipline her, you stay out of it!” Looking at his face, I suddenly realized there was no point in telling him about Lily. He didn’t care. He only cared if his precious Ava had been slighted, if my daughter had inconvenienced her in any way. With that realization, a mocking smile spread across my face. I reached for the perfume box and opened it. It was the same scent that clung to his jacket. He couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a separate gesture for me; he just bought two of whatever he got for Ava, like tossing a coin to a beggar. Every perfume on the market contains alcohol. I’m severely allergic to it; I’ve never been able to wear any. But Ava, who so famously claimed to share my allergy, adored perfume. He had never been interested enough to notice the contradiction, and he certainly wouldn’t waste his time trying to understand. There was a time when any gift from him, no matter how small, would fill me with joy. Because I loved him. So I valued everything he gave me. Perhaps that was why he thought my love was so cheap. So cheap that he could trample my daughter’s life into the dirt without a second thought. The thought of Lily made my eyes burn. “Just sign the papers,” I said, my voice flat. “Lily will never bother you again. My daughter doesn’t need anyone’s forgiveness. She did nothing wrong.” Her only mistake was being born into this family. My stubbornness made his face darken. “Are you done? I gave you a gift, what more do you want? Our daughter is this old and now you want a divorce? I’m warning you, if we divorce, you can forget about getting custody of Lily!” “I’ve been too good to you,” he spat. “You don’t know what’s good for you.” Having vented his spleen, he turned and stormed off toward the bedroom. This was the first time in ten years I had ever been cold to him. He probably thought it was just another one of my jealous fits. He’d take a nap, wake up to find dinner waiting, and our cold war would end as it always did. But this time, it wasn’t the cold war I wanted to end. It was us. I left the keys and the signed papers on the table and walked out of the home I had lived in for five years. 2 I had a crush on Robert for five years, and we were married for five more. For our relationship to begin, my mother paid with her life. For it to end, my daughter paid with hers. My mother was the housekeeper for the Hayes family. She took care of Robert’s mother for half her life, a model of diligence and devotion. The Hayes family adored her, giving her a raise almost every year. One day, she was accompanying Mrs. Hayes on a shopping trip when they were attacked by a kidnapper—a businessman driven to desperation after being ruined in a deal. He wanted to hold Mrs. Hayes for ransom. My mother didn’t hesitate. She threw herself at him. The kidnapper, stunned that an old woman would dare to intervene, panicked and pulled a knife. My mother fought with all her remaining strength, managing to delay him just long enough for the police to arrive. Mrs. Hayes was safe. The kidnapper was arrested. Only my mother was left, bleeding out on the pavement. Mrs. Hayes, pale with shock, knelt by her side, talking to her, begging her to hold on until the ambulance arrived. But my mother knew her time was short. With her last breath, she thought of me, her only daughter. She knew I had feelings for Robert, and so she made her final request to Mrs. Hayes. Mrs. Hayes was taken aback. She knew Robert had his own great love, Ava. But as she watched the life drain from my mother, as the hand she was holding grew weaker and weaker, she made a promise through her tears. Just before my mother passed, she swore that I would marry into the Hayes family. My mother died in peace. While making her funeral arrangements, everyone tried to console me. I had lost my mother, but I had secured a lifetime of wealth and comfort. No one knew that I would have rather been alone for the rest of my life than lose my mom. My father died when I was young; she was all I had. She never knew how much she meant to me. On my wedding day, Mrs. Hayes held my hand, her voice choked with sobs. “Your mother can finally rest easy…” My eyes were vacant, my face ashen. But thinking of my mother’s dying wish, I nodded resolutely. Robert was the perfect gentleman in front of our guests. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe I had found my partner for life. But after the wedding, when we were finally alone, he leaned in close, his voice a cold whisper in my ear. “You traded your mother’s life for this wedding. Are you satisfied now?” “I don’t love you,” he continued, “but I will honor my mother’s promise. I will play the part. In this play, I am your husband. Offstage, my heart belongs to another.” He was true to his word. In public, he gave me all the respect and dignity befitting Mrs. Hayes. But our marriage was a hollow shell, a truth only I had to live with. The day our daughter was born, he didn’t smile once. He just looked at me and said, “Now my debt is paid. My mother’s debt is paid.” I thought that as Lily grew, his heart might eventually find its way home. How foolish I was. After Lily was born, the only one trapped was me. A marriage bought with one life, now ended by another. 3 After leaving that house, I took my daughter’s ashes and moved back into the cramped old apartment my mom and I used to share. It took three days of waiting in line just to secure a burial plot. Finally, the day of the interment arrived. I had just opened my door when someone kicked it open, sending me sprawling to the floor. The urn nearly slipped from my grasp. I looked up into Robert’s furious eyes. His precious Ava stood behind him, flanked by bodyguards, her face hidden behind a white mask. Before I could react, Robert stepped over me and stormed into the apartment, bellowing Lily’s name. He kicked open every door, but found no sign of a small child. His patience evaporated. He strode back to me, squatted down, and grabbed me by the collar. “Where is she?” he snarled. “Get her out here!” Seeing his face, twisted with rage, my grip on the urn tightened. “I told you, you don’t have the right to even say her name! Now take your mistress and get out of my home!” My words fanned the flames of his anger. His gaze was a poisoned dagger. “Watch your mouth, or I’ll be happy to teach you some manners! You coached our daughter to do something this vicious, and when I want her to apologize, you try to stop me? Have I been too lenient with you?” My blood ran cold. A terrible premonition washed over me. “What did Lily do? I’m here now, don’t you dare try to pin anything on my daughter!” I had thought, for a fleeting, foolish moment, that he had heard about the accident and had come to mourn with me. Reality slapped me across the face once again. Seeing us argue, Ava slowly approached. She pulled down her mask, revealing a face covered in an angry red rash. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked pleadingly at Robert. “It’s okay, Robert. Maybe the child didn’t know what it was. She didn’t mean to give me an allergic reaction…” Her words only made Robert angrier. “Ava, stop defending that little brat! Clara coached her to ruin your face, and your indulgence is only going to make her worse!” I stared at him, my expression a mask of disbelief. “Robert, that is your daughter! What are you saying? What are you going to do to your own child for this… this whore?!” My daughter was gone, and this woman still wouldn’t leave her in peace. Robert’s hand shot out, and the crack of his palm against my cheek echoed in the hallway. The stinging pain ripped away the last of my self-control. “I told you to watch your mouth!” he roared. “Your mother died, was there no one left to teach you how to speak?” “You coached Lily to pour a whole bottle of rubbing alcohol into Ava’s face cream! You know she’s allergic! How could you be so malicious? And now you’re trying to use a five-year-old as your accomplice? What kind of mother are you?” His accusation finally broke me. “She’s five years old!” I shrieked. “How would she even know what rubbing alcohol is? Besides, the smell is so strong, anyone with a nose would have noticed it! It evaporates! How could anyone possibly put that on their face? Robert, have you lost your mind in your quest for revenge for her?!” I screamed until my throat was raw, trying to expel five years of misery. But Robert’s voice was louder. “The only person who went into Ava’s room was Lily! We don’t even have a maid! Who else could it have been?” he bellowed. “It’s all on the security camera, crystal clear, and you’re still trying to deny it? Once I’ve spoken to Lily, I’m turning you over to the police!” “Enough of this nonsense. Bring Lily out. Now!” 4 “The camera?” I gritted out. “Show it to me. I will not let anyone slander my daughter!” Robert furiously tapped his phone and threw it at me. On the screen, a small figure in a dress identical to the one Lily was wearing on the day of the accident, her face obscured by a fisherman’s hat, tiptoed into a bedroom. She stood at a vanity, took a small bottle from her bag, and poured its contents into a jar of face cream. The video ended there. The timestamp was from two days ago. By then, Lily had already been cremated. A cold, mirthless laugh escaped me, and tears streamed down my face. Ava chose that moment to speak. “Clara, I just want to understand why she did this to me. I don’t mean anything else by it. A child can still be taught right from wrong. You can’t encourage her to do these things.” Hearing her so brazenly frame my dead child, I scrambled to my feet and spat in her rash-covered face. “Don’t you dare talk about my daughter! You have no right! You come here with your fabricated evidence without even knowing who was in that video? Is that how desperate you are to become Mrs. Hayes?” My defiance was the final straw. Robert’s rage exploded. He kicked me hard in the stomach. A cry of pain escaped me as my hands went slack. The urn slipped from my grasp and crashed to the floor. The lid popped off, and as the urn rolled, the ashes—a stark, heartbreaking grey against the concrete—spilled across the floor. For a moment, all pain vanished. My world narrowed to that patch of grey dust. A raw, animalistic scream tore from my throat. Ignoring the agony in my stomach, I fell to my knees, trying to shield the ashes with my body. Robert jerked his chin at the bodyguards. One on each side, they hauled me to my feet. My eyes remained fixed on my daughter’s scattered remains. My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. “Where is our daughter?” Robert’s voice was a low, menacing growl. “Speak. This is your last chance.” I didn’t hear him. I was frozen, trapped in a waking nightmare. He nodded slowly. “Fine. You won’t talk? You like ruining people’s faces, is that it?” He took a bottle of medical-grade alcohol from one of the bodyguards and poured it onto the floor, turning my daughter’s ashes into a grey slurry. He bent down, scooped up a handful, and brutally smeared it across my face. The cold shock made me tremble. He ground the mixture into my skin with more force. “I’m giving you a facial, on the house. Do you like it? Speak! I asked you a question!” The alcohol hit the raw skin on my cheek where he had slapped me. Pain, sharp and blinding, contorted my features. My screams echoed in the dilapidated hallway. “You want a divorce? You’ve got it!” Robert yelled over my cries. “And you can forget about ever seeing Lily again!” He wiped his hands on a bodyguard’s sleeve and took out his phone. “Get the police,” he barked into the phone to his assistant. “I want them to tear this city apart to find my daughter. And get our lawyers to draft the divorce papers. I want full custody.” There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. Then, the assistant’s voice, small and timid, trickled through the speaker. “Mr. Hayes… your daughter… she’s passed away. She was cremated… It was the same night you and Ms. Vance were at that dinner. The cause of death was a motorcycle collision.” “Because I couldn’t reach you, I took the liberty of helping Mrs. Hayes arrange for a burial plot. Today… today was supposed to be the interment…”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386910”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

  • The Mentor’s Favor​

    Troy Partridge’s department, notoriously short on women, had just accepted two new female grad students. He told me they were neck and neck in terms of skill, but their personalities were night and day. One afternoon, the quiet, reserved one, Nina Croft, worked up the courage to drop a hint. “Professor Partridge and Lexi Morgan… they spend a lot of time in his office. And the door is always locked.” Lexi. The other student. Just last weekend, I’d bumped into her and her boyfriend. She’d grinned and chirped, “Hi, Mrs. Partridge!” Later, she would come to me in tears. “Mrs. Partridge, you’re the only one who can help me…” 1 “Mrs. Partridge! Fancy seeing you here.” I’d run into them at the mall—Lexi and her boyfriend, one of Troy’s students. I offered a polite smile. The young couple was holding hands, looking every bit in love. Noticing my gaze, Lexi leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Please, Mrs. Partridge, you have to keep this a secret for me. The professor would be so mad if he found out.” My brow furrowed. “He gets involved in things like that?” She nodded, her eyes wide with a practiced sort of sorrow. The memory faded, and I looked down at the files on my desk—the profiles of Troy’s two new students. Lexi Morgan came from a wealthy family, her personality as bright and outgoing as her pedigree. Nina Croft was her opposite in every way. Her hint today was clearly a calculated move, born from self-preservation. After all, if a mentor was having an affair with a student, it would inevitably lead to favoritism, a gross injustice to those who were genuinely working their tails off. And for Nina, who had clawed her way out of a small, struggling town, the stakes were impossibly high. That’s why she’d risked telling me. But Troy… would he really do something like that? After all our years together, I couldn’t imagine it. I just couldn’t. That evening, I got a friend request on my social media. It was Lexi. Hi Mrs. Partridge, it’s Lexi! Professor Partridge is in a meeting. He asked me to tell you he won’t be home tonight. A knot formed in my stomach. Is everything okay? A massive data set from one of the major experiments was corrupted. Months of work down the drain. [Crying emoji] Troy didn’t come home for three straight days. When he finally called, I learned the full story. It was Nina’s data that had been flawed, an error she hadn’t caught in time, forcing them to scrap the entire experiment and start over. “I swear,” he sighed into the phone, “women in this field… such a headache.” His voice was more weary than angry, with an almost… indulgent edge to it. Then, a new message from Lexi popped up: Mrs. Partridge, the professor is furious. He had the student who messed up in his office for hours this afternoon, just tearing into her. Please try to cheer him up when you see him. I really don’t want to get held back a year! I wasn’t one for deep conversations with near-strangers, so I simply replied, You’re all working so hard. When Troy finally came home that night, the exhaustion was etched onto his face, though it couldn’t quite dull the sharp intellect in his eyes. He saw me and flashed his usual smile, warm and reassuring. “Trapped in that lab for three days. I’m dead on my feet.” He pulled me into his arms, letting out a long sigh. “It’s good to be home.” “I made you some restorative broth. Drink it, then get some real sleep.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Thank you, my love.” Just then, another message from Lexi. Mrs. Partridge, is the professor feeling any better? We’re all dreading his thunder face tomorrow. I chuckled, showing the phone to Troy. “Your student is quite the character. She’s been messaging me all day, asking about your mood.” He rolled over, his voice already thick with sleep. “She’s the loudest one in the entire lab. Just ignore her.” I typed back a quick reply. He’s fine, don’t worry. Lexi: Yay! 2 The next day, I made a call. Then I headed to the university, a box of freshly baked pastries in hand. The department’s break room was buzzing with activity. “Nina, please, for the love of God, don’t mess up again. Look at these dark circles!” “Yeah, my girlfriend is starting to think I’m ghosting her.” “I’m so sorry, everyone. It was my fault. The professor already chewed me out for it. I promise it will never happen again.” “Alright, you guys, lay off,” Lexi chimed in, defending her. “Give Nina a break. She feels terrible. Let’s just focus on getting this done together.” As she finished, she turned and her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Mrs. Partridge! You’re here! Did you bring the professor another treat?” I smiled and nodded. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” Nina mumbled a quiet “Hello, Mrs. Partridge” along with the others before slipping out of the room. A moment later, she returned, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Troy. “Let me guess,” Troy said, taking my hand. “Pastries today?” One of the male students, mouth full, let out a dramatic groan. “Hey! I just started eating, how am I already full from all this sweetness?” “Oh, shut up and eat. Not even this much sugar can shut your mouth.” Amid the playful banter of the students, Nina stood silently to the side, not touching a thing. She seemed out of place. “Why aren’t you having any?” I asked her gently. Her eyes flickered toward Troy for a split second. “Oh, she has a sensitive stomach,” Troy answered for her, almost reflexively. “She can’t handle things that are too sweet.” I paused, taken aback. “Nina, you can’t eat sweets? Well, in that case, I’ll just have to take yours!” Lexi chirped, already reaching for the pastry. She seemed to be enjoying them immensely. A week later, the call I’d been waiting for came. “Elara, we found something…” There was a little dessert shop on the cafe strip near the university. Lexi was a frequent customer. And the trash can in Troy’s office often contained packaging from that very shop. The dates almost always lined up with Lexi’s purchases. I pictured her smiling face, the one that called me Mrs. Partridge without a hint of shame. Was she that good of an actress? To face me without a single crack in her facade? Before bed, I was scrolling through my social feed. A new post from Lexi’s boyfriend: One more year of grinding. Two diplomas, one finish line. The picture was of their intertwined hands. “I heard,” I said casually to Troy, “that you’ve been telling your students not to date?” He let out a soft laugh. “I don’t have that much time on my hands. I just advised the two women in my lab to try and focus on their studies. This field is already tougher for them, and a relationship is bound to be a distraction. I’m just looking out for them.” “A little sexist, don’t you think?” I teased. “Not at all. Women are forces of nature. Look at you, a queen in the boardroom, while I’m just stuck staring at tedious experiments and endless lines of code.” After undergrad, we’d chosen completely different paths. Troy stayed in academia, climbing the ladder from masters to PhD. I went out and started my own company. Those early days of supporting each other, while not exactly impoverished, were a defining chapter of our lives. During Troy’s toughest stretch, my company had just started to find its footing. For two years, I covered all of his living and academic expenses. Now, we were both successful in our own right, our love supposedly as strong as ever. If only Nina hadn’t planted that seed of doubt. The dean of the department fell ill, and I went to the hospital to visit him. As I rounded a corner in the hallway, I heard familiar voices. “Professor Partridge really babies Lexi and Nina, doesn’t he? Hours-long tutoring sessions, giving them second and third author credits on the last paper… How come we don’t get that kind of treatment?” “I think he favors Lexi more.” “Well, yeah. She knows how to talk, how to suck up. She’s always bringing him those fancy desserts.” “Honestly, I think the professor is pretty calculating. Nina’s from a nobody town, so when she makes a tiny mistake, he lectures her for hours. Last time, she was in his office for two solid hours. When she came out, her eyes were all red and puffy.” “It wasn’t a tiny mistake, though, was it? She messes up all the time. I was actually surprised she got second author credit.” Listening to their gossip, a thought flashed through my mind, too quick to grasp. After a brief chat with the dean, I drove straight to the university. Just as I reached the lab, Lexi came out to throw something away. “Mrs. Partridge… are you here to see the professor?” Her usual bubbly energy was gone, replaced by a disconnected, hollow look. 3 “Lexi, are you not feeling well?” I asked, concerned. She forced a weak smile and shook her head. “You might have to wait a bit. The professor and Nina are in his office, working on a report.” “Why are you here all by yourself?” She sighed heavily. “Everyone else went to the hospital to see the dean. The professor told me and Nina to stay behind and fix the corrupted data. But…” Understanding dawned on me. “He made you do it all by yourself?” Lexi bit her lip and nodded. “Nina and I are a team. The professor said her background is… difficult, and that I should look out for her. But it’s not easy for me either! Why do I always have to take the fall for her mistakes?” She quickly added, “I’m just venting, Mrs. Partridge. Please don’t tell the professor I said any of this.” Either my ability to read people had completely failed me, or she was a world-class actress. There wasn’t a flicker of deception in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t. How long have they been in there?” “Over an hour.” My thoughts were a tangled mess. I changed the subject. “That little bakery on the cafe strip seems popular. Have you tried it?” At the mention of food, Lexi’s eyes brightened, some of the gloom lifting from her face. “Oh my god, yes! It’s amazing. Especially the matcha mille crepe—it’s sweet but not too rich. I’ve seen the professor buying stuff from there a lot, too.” That fleeting thought returned, crystal clear this time. “Really? He’s never mentioned it. When I brought those pastries the other day, I had no idea your classmate couldn’t eat them. I feel terrible. I’ll bring something different for you all next time.” Lexi frowned. “That’s weird. I’ve known her for ages and I never knew that. Besides, I buy her stuff from there all the time and she’s never said no.” “You mean, you often bring her treats?” “Yeah. I thought she loved them.” My heart sank. I pictured Troy and Nina walking into the break room together that day. I hadn’t noticed it then, but thinking back, they had been standing incredibly close, a natural, unthinking proximity. It wasn’t until dusk that the office door finally opened. Only Nina came out. Head down, she rushed forward and bumped right into me, letting out a startled shriek. “What’s wrong?” Troy’s voice, laced with anxiety, called out from the office. “Mrs. Partridge… it’s you. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking.” Nina’s voice was trembling. “Elara, what are you doing here?” Troy asked. As he saw me, his hand was already reaching for Nina’s arm, steadying her. He noticed my gaze and snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned. “I won’t disturb you. Goodbye, Professor. Mrs. Partridge.” Her small frame practically fled down the hall. Suddenly, everything made a sickening kind of sense. The silence in the car was heavy. Neither of us spoke. Troy’s expression was tense, a look I recognized. It was the face he made when dealing with a difficult problem. “Are the cakes from that bakery any good?” His hands, gripping the steering wheel, relaxed slightly. “You went?” “Not yet. Just passed by. I heard one of your students is a big fan.” Troy had already regained his usual composure. The tension I’d seen moments before might as well have been a figment of my imagination. “Lexi can be a bit… overeager. She knows I have a sweet tooth, so she’s tried to bribe me more than a few times. But I’m a professional, Elara. I would never give her second author credit just for a few pastries.” “And what about Nina? I hear you’re always giving her a hard time. You’re not picking on her just because she’s quiet and doesn’t know how to suck up to her mentor, are you?” Troy laughed, a genuinely amused sound. “I’m tailoring my approach to the student. But I’ll admit, mentoring women is more trouble than it’s worth. Always on the verge of tears.” He sighed. “I’m not accepting any more female students after this. These two are enough of a headache.” “Oh?” I asked, feigning interest. “Which one is the crybaby?” “Who else? The one who makes the most noise. Probably a spoiled little princess at home. I’m not about to coddle her.” He was talking about Lexi. 4 Back home, after my shower, I urged Troy to take his. I watched as he plugged his phone in to charge, then unplugged it and took it with him into the bathroom. What a coincidence. I was scrolling through a forum online when I saw a question: For those who start with a significant disadvantage in life, is it wrong to take a shortcut? The top-voted answer read: If a shortcut presents itself to you, consider it fate. The unfairness of your starting point will be balanced out somewhere along the way. Before I met him, I never imagined that a single look could save me years of struggle… All you have to do is work hard, and destiny will favor you in the most unexpected ways. Keep fighting. I posted a reply: OP, it sounds like you have an incredible story. Would you mind sharing? Stressed-out grad student here in need of some inspiration. Waiting eagerly! Ten minutes later, she responded. Thanks for asking. I come from one of the poorest towns in the country, a true rock-bottom starting point. But I fought my way through every obstacle to get into a master’s program, and that’s where I met my guardian angel—my mentor. Because of my background, I’m naturally slower than others. Things my peers master in one try take me three or four. A student who drags everyone down like me should be despised by their mentor, but he’s different. And of course, I am different, too… I’ve been given so many opportunities for private coaching. He says that when he looks at me, he sees his younger self, and he wants to give me the chances he never had. You can call it a shortcut, but I call it proof that opportunity only comes to those who are prepared. Reading that, my earlier suspicions solidified into a cold, hard certainty that chilled me to the bone. Troy was sleeping with his student, Nina. And he was using Lexi as a smokescreen. Nina’s “warning” to me hadn’t been a warning at all. It was a vicious, calculated move—the real culprit pointing the finger at an innocent person. I had no idea how far they had gone. When Troy came out of the bathroom and tried to wrap his arms around me, a wave of physical revulsion washed over me. “What’s wrong?” His voice was husky, tinged with desire. “I don’t feel well. Let’s just go to sleep.” A few days later, a scandal erupted at Northwood University. A student had allegedly tried to seduce her mentor, an “academic siren” trying to sleep her way to the top. The mentor himself had reported her, and she was now facing a university investigation. The online posts mentioned the detail about the desserts. In a flash of insight, I understood everything. I immediately checked Lexi’s social media. Her profile was wiped clean, a blank slate. I called Troy to ask what was happening. “Elara, listen to me, and please don’t be angry. It was Lexi. She… she tried to seduce me. The shamelessness of it! I had my suspicions before, and I tried to give her chances to back off, but…” I fought the urge to call out his lies right then and there. After I hung up, I got a friend request. It was Nina. Mrs. Partridge, what I told you before was true! But the professor didn’t betray you. It was Lexi who was chasing him, relentlessly. This time she went too far, and he couldn’t protect her as a student anymore. He had to report her, even though it pained him. Is there any proof of this? The professor said so himself. Don’t you believe him? I didn’t reply. My mind was racing, trying to figure out what I could do, but it was all a chaotic blur. Outside, a storm was brewing. The doorbell rang. Soaking wet, Lexi stood on my doorstep. The moment she saw me, the tears started to fall. “Mrs. Partridge… I didn’t do it… it wasn’t me… Please believe me, help me… please, it really wasn’t me…” Her eyes were wild, her words a jumbled, desperate plea. Once I got her settled with a warm mug of tea, her hands were still trembling. “It’s okay, Lexi. Take a deep breath. Tell me exactly what happened.” Her gaze flickered with fresh terror. “Professor Partridge… and Nina… they were in his office. They were… kissing. That’s all I saw. “The professor told me that if I kept my mouth shut, I would graduate without any problems. “I promised, I really did. I was too scared to say anything. “But just a day later, Troy reported me. And the witness he brought forward… was Nina.”

    🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386909”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel