Author: Momo Chan

Five years. That’s how long I chased Aiden. It’s also how long his brother, Jimmy, chased Bree. Then, on New Year’s Eve, I waited at the movie theater for an Aiden who never came. And at the amusement park, Jimmy waited for a Bree who never showed. Instead, at the stroke of midnight, we both saw their social media posts, announcing to the world that they were a couple. Later, we found ourselves commiserating. He was the one who said it first. “How about we just make a go of it? We both know what we’re getting into.” I was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” And just like that, we were a whirlwind of activity—trying on wedding dresses, scouting venues, picking a date, writing invitations. The goal was simple: get married before they did. Weeks later, as I was drowning in a sea of venue brochures, a sharp knock echoed through my apartment. I opened the door to find Aiden standing there, his jaw clenched, the rims of his eyes red. “Are you serious?” he bit out. “Are you really going to marry Jimmy? Have you even thought this through?” 1 On New Year’s Eve, I stood in the plaza just off Central Square, watching the helium balloons float into the snowy sky, a sea of embracing couples all around me. I clutched a pair of movie tickets in my hand, the falling flakes melting on my skin. I couldn’t quite name the feeling, only that after loving Aiden for so many years, this was not the ending I had hoped for. My phone buzzed. It was Jimmy, Aiden’s younger brother. She didn’t show. The three of us—Aiden, Jimmy, and I—had grown up together. I fell for Aiden, and Jimmy fell for my roommate, Bree. We’d made a pact: he’d help me, and I’d help him. A spectacular failure. On the biggest night of the year, he was stood up by Bree, and I by Aiden. I let out a long, slow breath, a white cloud in the frigid air, and was about to leave when my phone rang. It was Jimmy. The background was a cacophony of noise, but his voice came through, clear and a little raspy. “Did you see their posts?” A cold dread washed over me. My hand hovered over the screen, my thumb refusing to tap open the app. It felt like if I did, everything would change forever. But I did it anyway. My feed was flooded with couples celebrating the new year. I only had to scroll a little before I saw it. And when I saw the photo, my numbness overshadowed the pain. It was a picture of them in their old school uniforms, standing on the athletic field, grinning and flashing peace signs at the camera. They both looked so genuinely happy. Aiden so rarely smiled in pictures with me. And Bree had always refused to take any photos with Jimmy. Bree and I were classmates in high school. I’d moved into the dorms for a while after a fight with my parents. They’d asked Aiden and Jimmy to bring me things, and through those visits, Bree got to know them both. But when had this happened? When had they fallen for each other? Jimmy and I had been such fools, moths drawn to a flame. I couldn’t speak, a lump lodged in my throat, choking me. Jimmy was still on the line, silent. Finally, he spoke. “Are you still at the theater?” “Yeah,” I managed. “Wait for me there. I’ll buy new tickets. We can still go.” “Okay,” I whispered. It was a pathetic situation, but at least I had someone to be pathetic with. That made it a little less unbearable. As I waited, I didn’t try to piece together the clues I must have missed. My mind was just… empty. I didn’t cry. It all just felt so sudden. I don’t know how long I waited, crouched by the entrance until my legs went numb. Finally, I saw him coming down the escalator. A few days ago, he’d dyed his hair a fiery red. “For a prosperous new year,” he’d said, convinced it was a sign of good things to come. I had wanted to dye mine red too, but since he beat me to it, I’d settled for a milky brown. He saw me and quickened his pace. I waved a weak hand. “Help me up. My legs are asleep.” Jimmy pulled me to my feet and studied my face. “Not bad,” he said with a half-smile. “No tears.” I punched my numb thighs, a pins-and-needles sensation shooting through them. “You either.” “Eh,” he waved a dismissive hand. “Come on, the movie’s about to start.” By unspoken agreement, we didn’t mention it again. After the movie, he drove me home. It was only after I’d showered and crawled into bed that I saw the text from Bree. Stella, Aiden and I are together. I hope you’re not mad? I closed my eyes, a wave of irritation washing over me. Lying in the dark, I typed back a single, emotionless word: No. Who she was with was her business, even if it was Aiden. But I had considered her my friend. I had giddily shared every single moment of my teenage crush on Aiden with her. And not once did she say a word. All these years I spent chasing him, only for them to end up together. Anger and heartbreak swelled in my chest. I wasn’t angry that she was with him. I was angry that she never told me she liked him too. What was she thinking all those times I confided in her? Was she laughing at me, at my pathetic, unrequited love? Suddenly, she felt like a stranger, a terrifying one. The moment my text went through, she replied, as if she’d been waiting for it. Oh, Stella, I’m so glad you’re not mad! I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you, I just… I didn’t know how… It was a wall of text. I exited the chat and unpinned her from the top of my contacts. A moment later, another message came through. Stella, do you want to get barbecue at that place on Central tomorrow? I knew what this was. A test. To see if I was really angry. But we weren’t friends anymore. Whether I was angry or not didn’t matter. No, I’m tired. Going to sleep. She didn’t reply. Instead, a new message popped up. It was from Aiden. I was the one who went after Bree. I liked her first. Stella, I hope you won’t blame her or take your anger out on her. How could I even describe it? I used to love Aiden so much it felt like my heart would overflow. Now, in the space of a single night, the thought of him just made my stomach turn. This couldn’t have been a sudden thing. They didn’t just suddenly fall in love. All this time, they must have looked at me and Jimmy like we were a couple of clowns, enjoying the attention we showered on them, only to turn around and say, “Thanks for liking me, but I don’t like you back.” I could have accepted any outcome. What I couldn’t accept was that the person I had loved for so long was, in reality, a total piece of shit. I didn’t reply to him. I just took a screenshot of both their messages and sent it to Jimmy. You get one of these? A minute later, he sent one back. It was from Bree. A long, rambling text about how grateful she was for his years of affection… Jimmy: You’d think in five years she could have mentioned she liked my brother. Stella, we’re not that pathetic, are we? We wouldn’t have kept chasing them if we knew. I had chased him for five years, but I’d liked him for much longer. Me: I was just unlucky to meet them. But I don’t want to see them again. I bet I’ll have to tomorrow, though. And then I’ll have to say ‘It’s fine, no big deal.’ I’ll feel like such a fake, but they won’t be happy until they hear it, so they can feel better about themselves. As I typed, a surge of frustration hit me. I just wanted to delete and block them both. Jimmy: Same. My brother just knocked on my door asking if I was asleep. I didn’t answer. It’s just so exhausting. It’s not even that sad, really. I chased her for so long, I can accept it. But it just sucks. Why did it have to be those two? How could they do this to us? Suddenly, an idea sparked in my mind. A second later, my phone was ringing. It was Jimmy. We’d been a chaotic, imaginative pair since we were kids, our crazy ideas often syncing up perfectly. “What if we…” I started. “What if we…” he said at the exact same time. I pursed my lips. “You first.” He cleared his throat. “How about we just make a go of it? We both know what we’re getting into.” I was silent for only a second. I knew he couldn’t see me, but I nodded anyway. “Okay.” “And we have to get married before they do.” “Don’t worry,” I said. “Leave it to me.” 2 I never knew Jimmy could be so efficient. Last night, I couldn’t squeeze out a single tear to mourn my wasted years. I just kept wondering, numbly, if my feelings for Aiden had already died out long ago, in all those years of hopeless pursuit. Then this morning—early, like, crack-of-dawn early—my mom started banging on my bedroom door. Each knock was louder than the last, like a death march. “Mom, what is it? It’s the midd—” I threw the door open, my hair a mess, but before I could finish my complaint, she clapped a hand over my mouth. “Honey, you… you need to get washed up and come downstairs. Now.” I blinked, my eyes heavy with sleep. “What’s going on?” “Your boyfriend is here to ask for your hand!” she whispered excitedly in my ear. My mom was always nagging me to date and get married, even threatening to set me up on blind dates. Seeing Jimmy here, making a formal proposal, must have been her dream come true. “Huh?” The words shocked me fully awake. No way. I crept to the top of the stairs and peered down. The living room was filled with familiar faces, and a pile of gold bars gleamed under the crystal chandelier. I showered, did my makeup, and changed in record time. When I came downstairs, Jimmy’s mom, a warm smile on her face, beckoned me over. “Stella, come have some breakfast first. Your uncle and I picked it up from the dim sum place on our way.” Then she turned to my mom, her expression apologetic. “Sarah, I’m so sorry for showing up so unannounced. We must have startled you.” “Oh, don’t be silly!” my mom laughed. “We’ve watched these two grow up. If they want to join our families, I couldn’t be happier.” “Exactly,” my dad chimed in. “We’re practically family already. Who needs all those formalities?” Jimmy was sitting ramrod straight in a formal suit, his red hair slicked back. “You work fast,” I whispered, sitting down next to him and popping a shrimp dumpling in my mouth. He leaned in. “Well, I saw my brother was out of town. I figured if he came with us to propose, it might make you uncomfortable.” I just raised an eyebrow and said nothing. Our parents were already enthusiastically planning the wedding. “I think the fifth of next month is a great day,” Jimmy’s mom said. “The almanac says it’s auspicious for marriage.” “Yes, yes, a lucky day!” my mom agreed. “Great, then it’s settled…” Jimmy and I stared at each other, stunned. “Why are they in a bigger hurry than we are?” I mouthed. He whispered back, “They’re probably both terrified we’ll bolt.” That actually made a lot of sense. My mom was constantly sighing about how “young people these days just don’t want to get married.” 3 The following weeks were a blur of wedding prep. Jimmy and I were busy with dress fittings, venue tours, and writing invitations. Meanwhile, Aiden and Bree had gone on a trip to Seabrook, a coastal city. They posted a new photo every day, looking blissful. While waiting for Jimmy to change into another suit, I found myself staring at a picture of them with the ocean sparkling in the background. A pang of something hit me. I had actually planned a trip to Seabrook with Aiden a long time ago. I’d even told Bree about it. I’d seen a travel blogger’s video of the city and sent it to her, gushing about how I wanted to go there with him for my birthday. But then Bree sprained her ankle a few days before, and I stayed to take care of her, so the trip was postponed. I never imagined they would be the ones to go together. “What are you looking at?” Jimmy emerged in a sleek black suit, a faint smile playing on his lips. I didn’t hide it, just turned my phone so he could see. He was fastening the buttons on his jacket. As he looked up, I said, “Let me help.” Once the buttons were done, he’d seen the photo. He handed my phone back. “Do you want to go?” I shook my head, then nodded. “Yes.” Even though Jimmy and Aiden were twins, once you got to know them, they were easy to tell apart. Aiden had this air of effortless disdain, always impatient and aloof. But Jimmy had his mother’s eyes—they crinkled when he smiled, bright and warm. He was sunny and emotionally stable. “It’s not because they went,” I said, my gaze firm. “I’ve wanted to go for a long time.” Jimmy gently guided me towards the full-length mirror. “Okay,” he said softly. “I know.” In the mirror, we looked like a perfect match, a striking couple. “You two make such a handsome couple,” the sales associate offered at the perfect moment. “What do you think of this one? Do you like it?” he asked, leaning down slightly. I thought for a moment, chewing on my lip. “I don’t know… it just doesn’t feel… breathtaking.” I held my fingers up, a tiny space between them. “It’s missing that little something.” Jimmy chuckled, his eyes sparkling like diamonds under the crystal lights. The store manager approached us. “Sir, Madam, have you found a suit and gown that you like?” She noticed our hesitation and added tactfully, “We actually have a new collection of gowns arriving from Europe in a few days. Would you be able to wait? I promise you, they are absolutely exquisite. We have the designer’s sketches, and I can walk you through the concepts.” She gestured towards a private viewing area. “If you have a moment?” I looked at Jimmy, and he nodded. I smiled at the manager. “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384486”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For four years at university, Dean treated me like a dog. He’d pet me when he was pleased, and kick me when he was angry. Once, during a particularly painful period, he kicked me into the swimming pool. When he ordered his cronies to torment me, he’d secretly record it. Even for the morning-after pill, I had to pay for it myself. He was a cold-blooded devil who had tormented me for ten years. Yet, later, I found him on his knees in a pool of blood, choking back sobs as he begged for my forgiveness. He swore he’d make everyone who’d hurt me vanish—including himself. “I wish everyone else could see you like this, you pathetic little slut, begging for it,” Dean whispered, his voice a low growl against my collarbone. His vile words slithered into my ears. “A slut, am I? And what does that make you, who’s been chasing this ‘slut’ for ten years?” I retorted, a cold laugh escaping my lips as I met his lust-filled gaze. His strikingly handsome, rebellious face twisted instantly, the scar above his eyebrow making him look even more feral. Lust and rage mingled, erupting into a violent storm of punishment. “Watch closely,” he snarled, his voice thick with a dark promise, “this is how a dog marks its territory.” 1 The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom. Casually, I slipped two hundred dollars from Dean’s wallet and dropped it into my piggy bank. He had always been baffled by this habit, assuming it was simply greed. So, he’d tried various ways to shower me with gifts. A twenty-million-dollar deed to a house? I tore it up. A two-million-dollar diamond ring? I tossed it into a sewage drain. Only these vibrant red banknotes, accumulating to the point of overflowing, did I keep. 2 “Your first love, Sebastian Gosling, is getting married,” Dean announced, wrapped only in a towel, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. He ran his hands through his wet hair with a wild, careless gesture, droplets tracing paths down his sculpted abs, disappearing into places that stirred the imagination. “To Isabella Reed.” He paused, a calculated silence, as if expecting to pique my interest. “What do I care?” I replied, shrugging. Failing to elicit the reaction he anticipated, Dean’s dissatisfaction simmered. He leaned over me, pinning me with his intense gaze, a playful menace in his eyes. “We simply must send our blessings! After all, you once would have given your life to protect him.” He chuckled, a low, unsettling sound. “Tell me… what if I sent him those videos of you as a wedding gift?” “You psycho!” My voice trembled, a tell-tale sign of my agitation. Dean’s smile widened, an almost demonic glee in his eyes, as if his twisted prank had landed perfectly. “That’s right, glare at me just like that. In the videos, you had the same look in your eyes…” 3 Honestly, Sebastian Gosling wasn’t really my ‘first love’ in any meaningful sense. It was just a high school crush, a pink-envelope love letter slipped to the star student. The next day, Isabella had dragged me into the girls’ restroom and doused me with ice water. “Crushing on Sebastian? You? You don’t deserve him!” she’d spat, her hand rising to deliver a stinging slap across my face. It burned. That’s when Dean kicked open the door. His clothes hung loosely, his gaze sweeping over my shirt, now clinging to my skin and revealing my underwear. He let out a low whistle. “Call me ‘big brother,’ and I’ll help you get revenge.” I didn’t. And so, he and Isabella joined forces, weaving an endless tapestry of nightmares for me. Sebastian Gosling, in a twisted way, had been at the heart of it all. 4 On the day of Sebastian and Isabella’s wedding, Dean dragged me along. Isabella glowed, a vision of happiness, nestled against Sebastian. Their gazes, when they met, were brimming with affection. Seeing the boy I once adored marry the girl who had pulled my hair and slapped me—a notorious mean girl—a bitter taste settled in my heart. Dean, sensing my low spirits, tightened his arm around my waist, a silent display of his displeasure. “Keep staring and I swear I’ll take you right here, right now.” As the powerful and wealthy heir to the Sterling fortune, Dean was constantly surrounded by people eager to speak with him. “Well, well, if it isn’t ‘Two-Hundred-Bucks’!” A balding man reeking of alcohol stumbled closer. “Still not tired of her, Dean?” The familiar nickname sent a chill down my spine. Years ago, Dean had stood over my shadow, holding my love letter high above his head. “‘You are like a star in the heavens, illuminating my dull life…’” he’d mimicked, pinching his voice to a high-pitched, girlish tone, reciting every word I’d written for Sebastian. My face burned with shame. I stretched on my tiptoes, desperate to snatch the letter back, oblivious to how close we were. “So eager to throw yourself at a man? How much for a night, huh?” Dean’s words had left me frozen in humiliated silence, unsure how to react. From the crowd, someone had yelled, “Two hundred bucks for an all-nighter!” The entire class erupted in laughter. From then on, “Two-Hundred-Bucks” became my personal moniker, following me for years. 5 The memory-fueled rage manifested as a stinging slap across the bald man’s face, leaving him stunned. Snapping back to reality, his bloodshot, alcohol-hazed eyes widened. “You little slut, you dare hit me!” Just as his fist was about to descend, Dean stepped in front of me, effortlessly snapping the man’s wrist before kicking him aside. I was pulled into a warm embrace, the familiar scent of rich mahogany engulfing me. “You dare lay a hand on my woman?” Dean snarled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. The commotion caught the attention of the wedding party. “Audrey, what in the—you’re still mixed up with Dean?” Sebastian’s concerned voice reached me from behind, tightening a knot in my chest. “Sebastian, you’ve already married my goddess. Can’t you even spare me a broken toy?” Dean’s barbed words, sharp as daggers, plunged deep into my heart. Like a cornered, panicked rabbit, I blurted out, “A broken toy? You’d still want that?” “Broken toys are more… resilient, aren’t they?” Dean challenged, his gaze fixed on Sebastian. Then, he grabbed my chin and publicly bit my lower lip. The metallic tang of blood spread through my mouth as the dazzling crystal chandeliers blurred my vision. Right. How could I compare to his goddess? I was just a plaything he’d taken to his bed. 6 After Isabella’s wedding, Dean seemed to snap. The word “marriage” was constantly on his lips. “Hey, where’s that ring I gave you? Put it on! Let’s go get hitched!” “If you want to act crazy, find someone else. The ‘friends-with-benefits-turned-spouse’ trope? Aren’t you tired of how cliché that is?” I rolled my eyes, unwilling to play along with his sudden display of deep affection. Even more ridiculously, he planned a four-person honeymoon trip. I knew perfectly well it wasn’t a honeymoon; it was just an excuse to bring a shield along to accompany his ex-lover. Seeing my indifference, Dean didn’t seem angry. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, leaning in close, his voice a soft murmur, like a lover’s whisper. “Your parents… how have they been lately?” His most practiced trick, yet still the most effective. 7 The air in Bali was light and humid, and the waves of heat made me restless. Isabella, in a lace swimsuit, kept pressing herself against Dean, her ample cleavage inviting suggestive glances. I, being afraid of water, lay on the shore, feigning illness. “Aren’t you coming to swim, Aubrey?” Isabella asked, tilting her head, feigning innocence. “Still mad about those old little things? It was just a game, you know.” She pouted, cooing to Dean, “Dean, darling, maybe I should bow to her as an apology?” I was too weary to play the spoiled princess’s game and turned to leave, but his hand clamped around my wrist like iron pliers. “Bella has graciously invited you. Don’t be so dramatic; go swim with her for a bit.” Dean tugged at my arm, forcefully dragging me to the edge of the pool. I resisted with all my might. Finally, his patience worn thin, he hoisted me onto his shoulder and tossed me directly into the water. The icy liquid instantly filled my nasal cavity, the sensation of drowning dragging me back to that past swimming lesson. Dean had done the same then, throwing me, a girl on her period, into the water like trash. Everyone had stood on the shore, hands on hips, laughing as I struggled, like a dying swan. Someone had shrieked, “Why is she bleeding?” Dean had wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You’re getting the pool dirty. So gross.” Back then, I had shivered uncontrollably, only daring to cling to the pool’s edge, forbidden to get out without his permission. But this time, I felt as if I’d lost the strength to struggle, letting my body sink deeper and deeper. Just as I was about to succumb to darkness, an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me to the surface. “What are you doing?” The fantasized hero still hadn’t appeared. It was only Dean, his face livid, cursing me out. “What the hell is wrong with you, trying to drown yourself?!” He pinned me against the pool wall, the panic in his eyes starkly visible. “Don’t you want me dead anyway? Just doing as you wished.” My water-choked voice was hoarse. His pupils constricted sharply. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. 8 That night, Dean was exceptionally rough, tormenting me in every conceivable way. He blindfolded me with a dark blue tie, his warm, moist breath caressing my ear. “Guess what Sebastian and Isabella are doing in the next room?” The darkness heightened every sensation, and I felt his nimble fingers tracing paths across my body, eliciting shivers. I bit down hard on my lips in shame, desperate not to let any sound escape. At first, I clenched my teeth, enduring it. But eventually, instinct overwhelmed me. In my hazy state, I heard the sound of Dean’s phone unlocking, and my blood ran cold. “Are you filming again, you sick bastard?!” I screamed, panicking, struggling to tear off the tie. He pinned my struggling hand with one of his, chuckling darkly. “It’s fine, I’m just enjoying it myself. I’ll delete it after.” He’d said the same thing back then! In that filthy equipment room, Dean, with a group of his cronies, had held me down, their hands all over me. And he, unhurried, had sat before me with a camera, recording my humiliation. To this day, that video remained perfectly preserved on his computer, a chain binding me. 9 Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains. Isabella, stifling a yawn, complained to me, “Can you two be a little more considerate of your neighbors?” Embarrassed, I stirred my coffee, unable to meet her gaze. Dean walked in, rubbing his shoulder. His black silk pajama top had slipped, revealing a blood-stained bandage. Sebastian, pouring coffee, paused. “Injured?” “Got scratched by a little kitten last night. A paw-sized bloody mess, hurt like hell.” As he spoke, he peeled back a piece of gauze, revealing the wound to everyone. “That brutal?! A biting animal like that should be put down,” Isabella gasped, suggesting. “Got scratched years ago, even worse than this one,” Dean said, pointing to the faint, almost imperceptible scar above his eyebrow, then looked at me suggestively. “Tsk, just a bit temperamental, but quite entertaining. I’ll keep her around.” Sebastian, who had seemed unresponsive, suddenly looked at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes that I couldn’t quite decipher. I kept my head down, silent. Because the “unruly kitten” Dean spoke of was me. Last night, to retaliate for his secret filming, I had bitten hard into his shoulder several times. And that old scar, years in the making, bore witness to my past of blood and tears. 10 It was my first time, and Dean’s first time. My first time resisting, his first time getting his head split open. And our first time in bed together… In the dilapidated motel room, Dean sat like a god. Before him, I knelt, tears streaming down my face, begging for mercy. “I’ll let Sebastian go, but you have to sleep with me, or… you die.” His hand gripped my hair tightly, his thin lips parting to offer me a fatal choice. At the time, I didn’t know Sebastian came from a powerful family; I only thought he was as pitiable as me. To protect him, and my laughable dignity, I unhesitatingly rushed toward the window. I chose death, but Dean didn’t give me the option. In the nick of time, he embraced me, forced himself upon me, leaving me with a wretched life. The cost: I became his pet. On call, ready for his release. Inexperienced, I trembled with fear. When Dean’s kiss fell, I instinctively fought back. Grabbing the nearest beer bottle from the nightstand, I brought it down hard on his head. Blood stained half his face, making him look like a demon from hell. Scattered shards of glass grazed his eyebrow, adding a sinister edge to his sculpted features. “You made me bleed. As compensation, you’ll have to bleed a little too…” As soon as the words left his lips, a tearing pain spread through my lower body. On the sheets, scattered drops of blood bloomed like red cherry blossoms. Dean gazed at his handiwork with satisfaction, then, in an act of twisted mercy, handed me some cash. “Buy yourself some ointment, and… don’t forget to take the pill.” I counted. It was exactly two hundred dollars.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384485”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For fifteen years at the orphanage, I lived a quiet life. My younger sister was adopted by a wealthy socialite, while I was taken in by the dorm matron. The day the adoption papers were signed, a line of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [The sister doesn’t know, does she? After she was taken in by the rich family, everyone looked down on her, and she ended up fighting dogs for food.] [The older sister has a better fate. Although she was adopted by the dorm matron, she met Mr. Brooks, the richest man in Port City, by chance and was later spoiled rotten by him.] [This is why it’s better to marry well than to be born well.] My sister suddenly rushed to the dorm matron, sweetly calling her “Mommy.” That’s when I knew. My sister could see the pop-up text too. 1 “Sister, you’ve always taken care of me since we were little. This time, you should go and enjoy life with the Sterling family.” My sister, still wearing the white dress she’d put on specifically to impress the wealthy Sterlings, now affectionately held the dorm matron’s hand. I watched the floating text appear before my eyes. That’s when I knew. My sister could see the pop-up text too. The sudden switch of children, both already chosen by their respective families, left the orphanage director in a difficult position as she consulted both parties. My sister, terrified that the dorm matron wouldn’t agree, sweetly called her “Mommy,” melting the matron’s expression. On the Sterling family side, Mrs. Sterling remained silent, making a phone call. Half an hour later, a young man, roughly my age, stepped out of a Rolls-Royce. He wore a casual black outfit, a brand I didn’t recognize, but it screamed expensive. His gaze darted between my sister and me, as if comparing two pieces of merchandise. I pursed my lips and smiled at the young man. He snorted. “Just her, then. She’s not as pretty as Sophie, but she looks more obedient.” The floating text above his head scrolled again. [The Sterlings just want a plaything for their son, Greg. The older sister is in for a hard time.] [The younger sister is smarter, giving up immediate temptation for a better future.] My sister smiled triumphantly. Her “Mommy” calls to the dorm matron grew even more affectionate. 2 Greg Sterling was the only heir to the Sterling family. Spoiled since childhood, his personality was notoriously difficult. The moment I stepped through the Sterling mansion doors, Greg tossed a dog collar at me and ordered me to put it on and bark. “Skylar, you only wanted to be adopted by my family because we’re rich, didn’t you?” His smile was malicious. “Bark once, I’ll give you ten thousand. How about it?” I obediently put on the collar. Under Greg’s disdainful gaze, I slowly spoke: “Then you mustn’t go back on your word, young master.” That day, I followed Greg, barking for a long time. So long, in fact, that Greg finally stopped me, his face filled with disgust. “Enough! Stop barking!” I smiled at Greg. “Understood, Young Master. That’s fifty-five thousand in total. How would you like to pay?” Greg impatiently threw a card at me. It contained sixty thousand. At dinner, it was just Greg and me. The housekeeper had still prepared a table full of food. As I was about to sit down, Greg stopped me. “Who said you could eat at the table?” Greg pointed to a new dog bowl nearby. “You like barking like a dog, don’t you? Then eat with the dog.” The food in the dog bowl was piled into a messy heap, a stark contrast to the beautifully plated dishes on the table. But compared to the leftovers at the orphanage, it was infinitely better. I ate heartily from the dog bowl. Just then, I saw my sister’s new social media post. It was a photo of her and her adoptive mother before dinner. On the simple round table sat a plate of bean sprouts and two bowls of rice. The caption read: “Though simple, it’s very happy.” After seeing it, the organic vegetables in my dog bowl tasted even better. Before bed, Greg claimed the room Mrs. Sterling had prepared for me, telling me to sleep with the dog. I looked at the 30-square-foot wooden cabin in the yard, hugged my blanket, and crawled inside. The German Shepherd was well-behaved. Seeing me, he shrank to the side, making plenty of room. It was much more spacious than the orphanage’s communal sleeping arrangements. I couldn’t help but sigh. At fifteen, I finally had a single room. It felt good. 3 A rich young master like Greg also had various lessons arranged by his parents, such as piano and golf. The next morning at 6:30, Greg dragged me out of the doghouse to accompany him on his morning run, then to his piano lesson. I thought he’d find some new way to humiliate me, but this time, he told me to join the class with him. This was only because Mr. Sterling would randomly check on his studies every weekend. “My dad only listens in passing. You can play for me when the door’s closed.” So I studied with particular seriousness. In the afternoon, Greg took me to his golf lesson. As I carried his golf bag, looking disheveled, following behind Greg, I ran into my sister, Sophie. She wore a pretty floral dress, affectionately holding her adoptive mother’s hand. “What a coincidence, Sister! I heard this golf course just opened. Mom and I are going for a walk in the fields. Want to join us?” I tucked the sweat-drenched strands of hair behind my ear and shook my head. “No, I have to stay with Young Master Sterling.” Sophie feigned surprise. “So the Sterlings adopted you just to have a free maid? They’re so mean!” “Skylar, come here.” Greg emerged from the pro shop and beckoned me over. “You’re adopted by the Sterlings, at least. Don’t talk to riff-raff.” His voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it was just enough for Sophie to hear. Sophie’s face paled for a moment. She tugged her adoptive mother’s hand and headed towards the fields but was stopped by a staff member. “Miss, please show your membership card.” Greg sneered, then walked through another gate with me. Sophie and her adoptive mother’s faces grew darker and darker. The floating text appeared again. [Skylar doesn’t think Young Master Sterling is taking her to play, does she?] [Greg is very good at training dogs. The field is huge here. Soon, he’ll be walking Skylar like a dog.] [Sophie is still lucky. Her family is so happy. Although they’re poor now, she’ll have endless money once she’s with Mr. Brooks, the richest man in Port City.] Sophie’s expression brightened at this. She pulled her adoptive mother’s hand, smiling ingratiatingly. “Mommy, don’t worry. When I’m with Mr. Brooks, the richest man in Port City, I’ll have him give this entire golf course to you!” 4 The entire afternoon, Greg certainly didn’t let me rest. To torment me, he deliberately cleared the field. He would stand at the tee, hitting balls, and I had to retrieve them within a minute. If I failed, he’d use me as a moving target, pelting me with balls. Greg was thoroughly entertained. Until one ball hit me directly on the bridge of my nose. The sharp ache made my eyes water, and then a warm liquid began to flow from my nose. I haphazardly wiped it away, then rushed back to Greg. My hands respectfully held up the ball. “Young Master, your ball.” Greg’s smile froze. He used his golf club to lift my chin. “Skylar, are you an idiot? Didn’t you think to dodge?” My eyes were red, but I smiled at Greg. He tossed a handkerchief at my face, annoyed. “Go wipe that off somewhere else. Don’t be disgusting.” After that, Greg didn’t boss me around as much. Not long after, he lost interest and took me home. Perhaps I had behaved well today. On the way back, Greg tossed me a mint. I grinned, saying, “Thank you, Young Master.” Greg seemed to be in a good mood. At dinner, he allowed me to sit at the table and even let me take a nice shower in the bathroom before making me return to the doghouse. He said it was because he didn’t want me to get the doghouse dirty. I continued to smile at Greg. An aunt at the orphanage once told me that while I wasn’t particularly beautiful, my smile was very endearing. And now, my primary goal was to survive in the Sterling household. And to thrive even more. 5 The next day, my transfer procedures were completed. To continue assisting Greg, I enrolled in the International Exchange Program. Students in this class were all wealthy and influential, each belonging to their own small circles. Most followed Greg because the Sterling family held significant sway in Port City. Perhaps Greg had given instructions beforehand, as most of my classmates looked at me with ill intent. They would mock my English pronunciation and deliberately misplace my homework, leading to me being punished by the teacher. For group projects, I was always the odd one out. Whenever I was in the most awkward situations, Greg would finally step in, extending his “helping hand.” [Greg Sterling is disgusting. If I were Skylar, I’d resist.] [Yes, you can’t just go along with these rich young masters. The more you resist, the more you pique their interest.] I looked at the lines of floating text. I gratefully accepted Greg’s help, then smiled and said, “Thank you, Young Master.” I knew that given my current circumstances, defying Greg would bring me no benefit whatsoever. Until one day, my painstakingly organized notebook was tossed into a bucket of dirty water. By the time I discovered it, the writing was already smudged beyond recognition. I held the notebook, looked at the gloating classmates behind me, and turned back to ask, “Who did this?” One of Greg’s most trusted cronies stepped forward, challenging me. “I did it, what are you going to do about it? You study all day, but you’re still not getting first place? Are you retarded or something?” More floating text appeared. [Greg is watching! Skylar must endure, that’s how she’ll get his pity.] [Rich young masters love strong, yet secretly enduring, innocent girls.] [Is this why Greg will eventually fall for Sophie?] [Sophie isn’t just likable, she’s also beautiful. Skylar probably doesn’t know that while she’s being bullied here, Sophie is being spoiled rotten in the regular classes.] Amidst the surrounding laughter, I picked up the bucket of dirty water and dumped it over his head. “Damn it!” The crony cursed, pushing me to the ground. The other lackeys swarmed me, kicking and punching. I lay on the ground, turning my head to look at Greg. He leaned against the window, watching me with an amused expression, showing no signs of helping. I covered my head and yelled, “You can bully me, but you can’t ruin the notes I prepared for Young Master!” “What did you say?” Greg frowned, stopping those who were hitting me. “Who told you to do those things?” he asked me. I looked into his eyes and replied, “Everything I have is from the Sterling family, so my things are Young Master’s things.” Greg laughed. “You think by sucking up to me, I’ll protect you?” After that, Greg allowed his cronies to continue bullying me, even more severely than before. The other classmates remained indifferent. The teachers paid no mind to the minor scuffles among these rich young masters. At that moment, I suddenly understood: to avoid being bullied in this circle, I had to make myself more valuable. So I began to plead: “Young Master! Young Master! They’re stepping on my hands! If my hands and arms get hurt, I won’t be able to help you this weekend! Young Master, if my legs get hurt, I won’t be able to retrieve the balls for you this weekend!” That night, Greg uncharacteristically threw me a bottle of pain relief spray. He asked, “You’re quite a fighter, aren’t you? Why didn’t you fight back when they hit you earlier?” I shook my head. “That’s different. I fought back because they ruined what I prepared for you, Young Master. But when they hit me, it was because you instructed them to. Since it was your wish, I would never resist.” My gaze was sincere. Greg, however, scoffed. “Skylar, are you actually retarded?” He suddenly leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. “Then if I told you to die, would you?” 6 No, I wouldn’t. But very soon, I proved that I wasn’t an idiot. When Greg’s crony forgot to help him with his group project, I secretly slipped him a USB drive. That time, Greg’s group project took first place. After class, Greg found me. Before he could speak, I smiled at him. “Young Master, others can help you, and so can I.” Greg smiled back. “You want to help me that badly? Alright then.” After that, Greg dumped all his homework on me, including exams. Greg wanted me to help him with his final exams. “What’s wrong, Skylar? Don’t you want to help me?” I nodded obediently. “No problem, Young Master.” The final exams for the essay-based courses were easy. Only the last one was a written, closed-book exam. Greg and I weren’t even in the same testing room. So, I made a deal with Greg. Forty minutes into the exam, I would slip a note with the answers behind the fire hydrant. Just then, more floating text appeared. [Skylar usually seems so timid, I never thought she’d be so bold.] [If she’s caught cheating on the final, she’ll be expelled, right?] On the day of the final exam, as agreed, forty minutes in, I slipped the note with the answers behind the fire hydrant. However, at that moment, someone grabbed my wrist. “Sister, what are you doing?” Sophie pulled out the note and opened it, feigning surprise. “This is… exam answers, isn’t it?” I frowned. In my habit of ignoring the floating text, I had forgotten that Sophie could also see it. The regular classes and the International Exchange Program weren’t in the same building. Sophie’s appearance here was clearly a deliberate attempt to catch me. But she overlooked one thing. I asked her, “It’s exam period. What are you doing in the International Exchange building?” Sophie choked. Just then, the teacher arrived. Sophie handed my answer sheet to the teacher. “Teacher, I want to report a student for cheating.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384484”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My cool, impossibly reserved husband has been acting strange lately. He insists on going out in a full disguise—hoodie, sunglasses, the whole nine yards. The moment the doorbell rings, he dives into the nearest closet. And I catch him, day after day, staring at the ring on my finger with a look of pure, grinding agony. Then one day, I stumbled upon an encrypted memo on his phone: “Woke up and I’ve time-traveled from eighteen to twenty-eight.” “Good news: I actually ended up with the girl I’ve been secretly in love with for years.” “Bad news: There are no wedding photos in the house, I’m not wearing a wedding ring, and the suits in the closet aren’t my size.” “…I’m screwed. I’m the other man.” Me: ? 1 The day after we moved into our new home, my husband, Liam, was in a horrific car accident. He spent a day and a night unconscious in the hospital. The doctors said that apart from losing the last ten years of his memory, all his vitals were perfectly normal. But I had a growing suspicion that it wasn’t just his memory that was gone. The man who came home with me was a stranger in more ways than one. His behavior was… bizarre. Take right now, for instance. It’s been three hours since we got back from the hospital, and Liam hasn’t stopped moving. He’s been pacing the house relentlessly, his eyes darting everywhere. First, he examined the freshly painted walls with the intensity of a crime scene investigator. Then, he pulled an old suit from the back of the wardrobe—the one he wore to his college graduation—and held it against himself over and over again, a frown deepening on his face. Finally, his gaze fell on his left hand. He squeezed his bare ring finger, where a faint, pale band of skin marked the spot a ring had occupied for years. It had been lost in the crash. When he finished his inspection, all the strength seemed to drain out of him. He collapsed onto the sofa, his face a ghostly white. “Nina,” he said, his voice trembling. I looked over, and his eyes flickered to the ring on my own hand before he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “How long… have we been like this?” I followed his gaze to my ring, and a warm blush crept up my neck. “Two years.” It was a strange and wonderful story, really. In high school, we were bitter rivals, fighting tooth and nail to be top of the class. But a chance reunion in a new city during college transformed our animosity into a surprising, fierce friendship. After graduation, we became an unbeatable team at work, a perfect partnership in every sense. It was like we just clicked. And just like that, a decade had flown by. The two people everyone at school swore would kill each other before they’d ever date were now two years into a marriage so perfect, so in sync—from the boardroom to the bedroom—it felt like we were made for each other. 2 I was still lost in the warm, fuzzy memories of my favorite enemy-turned-lover story when Liam’s voice shattered the quiet. “T-Two years?!” He clutched his chest as if he’d been shot, his voice ragged with hysteria. “Two years… and I’m still not the official one?” His outburst startled me. “Liam, what are you yelling about? The ‘official one’? What are you trying to be the official one of?” He stared at me for a moment, a look of profound sorrow in his eyes. He slowly tightened his grip on the teacup in his hand. “So… you’re the one who won’t let go of him.” I frowned, completely bewildered, my gaze dropping to the cup. And then it clicked. “That’s right,” I said, a wave of relief washing over me. “I won’t let you.” He’s always under so much pressure at work, and insomnia is his constant companion. So, I have a strict no-caffeine-after-noon rule for him. I was glad he remembered that little detail, even if nothing else. He, however, did not look glad at all. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he stared at me like a tragic lover, used and then cruelly cast aside, every strand of his hair radiating betrayal. “Nina,” he choked out, “I never thought… I never thought this is what we’d become.” I couldn’t help but smile shyly. “I never thought so either. It just goes to show you, fate is a funny thing.” “…Fate?” Liam’s lips twisted into a bitter sneer. “Is this fate? This? This is… this is an outrage, it’s—” He broke off, turning away to rub furiously at the corner of his eye. A flicker of disappointment went through me; for a second, I thought he was about to say something sweet. But then again, this was Liam. He was an unshakeable ice king in high school, and his career as a ruthless CEO had only made him more concise. Which is why, for the past two years, my favorite pastime was coaxing dirty talk out of him in bed. I lived for the sight of that blush creeping up his neck as he lost himself to me, his composure shattering. And if I really put in the effort… I could wring a few low, desperate gasps from between those clenched teeth. 3 The memory sent a jolt of heat through me. I patted my flushed cheeks and quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, Liam, are you hungry? I’ll go see what we have for dinner.” Liam let out a long, shaky breath, his eyes following me as I walked to the kitchen. He seemed to have reached some sort of terrible resolution. “Nina,” he began, his voice heavy. “I don’t know what’s happened between then and now, or why I’m… like this. Maybe you have some kind of leverage over me, I don’t know.” “But I will not allow myself to be this person. I can’t do these… shady, underhanded things. I’m not cut out for the drama, the jealousy, the backstabbing.” “I have to cut this toxic tie, now. I have to end this chaotic mess—especially this relationship, which is a violation of the law, of morality, of every principle I hold dear.” “I’m telling you right now, I would rather die than be a—” I pulled open the refrigerator door and waved a container at him. “Dinner is pizza and the chicken soup my mom sent over. Sound good, honey?” The word hung in the air. Liam’s expression of tortured indignation vanished. He blinked, his eyes wide, as if savoring the sound. Three long seconds passed. A dark blush crept up to the tips of his ears. “O-Okay,” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. For the next half hour, Liam stood as still as a statue, a storm of conflicting emotions warring on his face. He looked utterly defeated. The white bandage on his forehead only added to the tragic, broken-beauty effect. The accident hadn’t marred his handsome features in the slightest. If anything, it had softened the sharp, ruthless edge he’d honed over years in the corporate world, making him seem younger, more vulnerable. “Nina, I have to be clear,” he started again, his brow furrowed with grim determination. “I can’t—I won’t—engage in any more of this clandestine…” His voice was cut short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. Ding-dong. The pizza had arrived, right on time. At my side, Liam went rigid, instantly on high alert. He fumbled for the remote and clicked off the TV, his eyes wide with panic as he looked at me. I bit my lip, remembering the doctor’s warning. Post-accident, Liam might be sensitive to sudden, loud noises. Doorbells, car horns, anything startling. I reached out and gently stroked his jaw, my voice soft. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. You just stay here, you don’t have to go to the door.” His shoulders trembled slightly at my touch. He flinched away, his lips pressed into a thin, white line, but he didn’t say anything. I paid for the pizza and signed for a package that had also arrived, then walked back into the living room. But when I stepped inside, Liam was gone. The only evidence he’d been there was the deep impression his body had left on the sofa cushion and the faint, clean scent of cedarwood that hung in the air. If not for those traces, I would have thought I’d imagined him entirely. I scanned the empty room, a knot of confusion tightening in my stomach. “Liam?” Silence. I thought for a moment, then headed upstairs. The bedroom was dark, with no sign of him. I flipped on the light. My eyes were immediately drawn to the wardrobe. A familiar sliver of fabric was caught in the door, trembling faintly. 4 I rushed over and threw open the closet doors. And there he was, huddled behind a row of my dresses. Liam, all six-foot-two of him, was crammed into the tiny space, the hem of my skirt clenched between his teeth. His face was pale, his jaw trembling. I was stunned. “Liam! What in the world are you doing in there?” His head shot up. The first thing he did was peer cautiously past my shoulder. “Is… is he gone?” he whispered. I glanced back. The delivery guy’s car was already pulling out of the driveway. “Yeah, he’s gone.” Liam’s eyes lit up for a second, then immediately dimmed. “He… he didn’t stay?” “Stay for what? He has other deliveries to make. Come on, get out of there. He’s long gone.” Liam’s tense shoulders finally relaxed, and he let out a huge sigh of relief. He hesitated, then added, his tone sly and conspiratorial, “…You know, a workaholic like that, someone who only thinks about their job… they must be incredibly boring. It must be exhausting, being with a person like that. But, just saying, I’m not that kind of workaholic…” I nodded along. “You’re right. That’s why I like you so much better.” A small, smug smile touched his lips, and he lifted his chin with a hint of pride. But just as quickly, his expression froze. The light in his eyes vanished, replaced by a look of self-loathing. He muttered something under his breath, then scrambled out of the closet and hurried past me, storming downstairs without another word. 5 After dinner, I suggested a walk in the park. Liam’s knuckles went white as he gripped his spoon. “There will be too many people at the park. What if someone sees us…?” I knew he’d been anxious around people since the accident, so I nodded understandingly. “You have a point. Okay, then let’s just go to the supermarket to pick up some essentials. It should be pretty empty this time of night.” Liam’s lashes fluttered down, and he didn’t refuse this time. “…Nina, have we… always been like this? For the past two years?” “We have.” His back went ramrod straight. “Will you… will you divorce him?” he asked, his voice strained. I was taken aback. “Divorce? Why would I get a divorce? I don’t ever want a divorce.” CRACK. The fork in his hand snapped in two. “You really want to keep going on like this?” he demanded, his voice dangerously low. I nodded firmly. “Of course.” Liam shot to his feet, the sound of his teeth grinding together filling the silence. “Nina, how could you… How can you—?” He choked on the words, a look of pure despair on his face, then spun around. “I’m done eating.” I blinked. “Hey, Liam, aren’t you coming to the supermarket with me?” His retreating figure looked fragile, on the verge of collapse. He gave no sign that he’d heard me as he mounted the stairs, not even a backward glance. I huffed in annoyance, deliberately pitching my voice to carry. “Fine, be that way! I’ll just ask someone else. See how you like being replaced!” At the top of the stairs, Liam’s footsteps faltered. 6 Ten minutes later, I came downstairs in a more comfortable outfit, only to find Liam standing rigidly by the door. He was dressed head-to-toe in black, bundled up as if preparing for a blizzard. I walked over and tugged his mask down. “Liam, aren’t you hot in that? Besides, the doctor said you need fresh air.” He glanced nervously out the window at the people walking by, then pulled a pair of enormous sunglasses from his bag—the kind that covers half your face. I put my hand over his, utterly baffled. “Liam, you’ll look ridiculous wearing those in a supermarket.” He paused for a second, then produced a black baseball cap. Me: ? His bizarre behavior was starting to give me the distinct impression that we were about to go rob the place. I rubbed my temples, trying to stave off a headache. “Liam, we are just going to the supermarket to buy toilet paper and milk. We are not planning a heist…” His eyes widened in horror. He clapped a hand over my mouth, his voice a frantic whisper. “Keep your voice down! Is that something to be proud of?” Me: ? Just as I was about to argue, my phone buzzed with a message from my best friend, whose profile picture was, as always, some new pop star. “Babe, I’m so sorry, I’m stuck at the office. I have to go out of town for work tomorrow, so I can’t make it shopping tonight.” 7 I let go of Liam to type out a quick reply. 【No worries!】 The second I hit send, Liam’s voice, dripping with sarcasm, cut through the air above me. “So busy that you can’t even spare twenty minutes for a trip to the supermarket…” “Wow. Must be making, what, a billion dollars a month at that job?” I shot him a sideways glance, about to defend my friend, but he barrelled on, his tone one of mock surprise. “What? It’s not a billion? You mean you’re that busy for a measly three thousand a month?” “Sigh. Well, Nina, don’t overthink it.” “What could it possibly mean? I mean, not having time to go to the store with you can only mean that you’re not a priority. That’s all. Nothing more to it.” “It’s not like there’s someone else, of course. That would be impossible…” “Nina, whatever you do… don’t… overthink… it…” He bit down on the last few words, his voice heavy with insinuation. A vein throbbed in my temple. I jabbed him with my elbow. “What is all this nonsense? I know her, I understand her, and she would never do that. Stop talking trash about my friend. We were supposed to meet tonight, and I was going to go with her on her business trip for a week…” The smug look on Liam’s face instantly dissolved. It was as if all his strength, all his clever manipulations, had evaporated in an instant. He staggered back a few steps, looking like a lost dog that had just been kicked by its owner, and curled in on himself, a tremor running through his body. 8 I knew immediately that something was wrong. I dropped my phone and rushed to his side. “Liam? What is it? Are you not feeling well?” He didn’t speak, just clutched his chest and sank onto the sofa. Panicked, I started to get up to call his doctor. But he shot out a hand and grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “Yes,” he gasped. I was completely lost. “Yes, what?” Liam tilted his head back to look at me, a fragile, crimson blush blooming at the corners of his eyes. His lips parted, stopping a mere inch from mine. “I… I don’t feel well, Nina. I feel really, really awful…” I studied the bandage on his forehead, my heart pounding with worry. “Is it your head? Or somewhere else?” He squeezed my hand tighter, his voice trembling. “Just… listen. Can you feel how fast my heart is beating…?” “…?” For a second, I was sure I’d misheard him. 9 Liam said his heart was racing. And as he said it, he leaned into me, a picture of delicate fragility, resting his head in the crook of my neck. “Just hold me,” he murmured. “If you hold me, it’ll stop…” I froze, my body rigid. I’d seen him ruthlessly tear apart opponents in the boardroom without breaking a sweat. I’d seen him lose control, his eyes blazing as he pinned me against a wall. But I had never, ever seen this Liam. For a moment, I had no idea what to do. My hands hovered awkwardly in the air. But I couldn’t bring myself to push him away. “Nina, if you leave me alone tonight… I think I’ll just die of a broken heart. I really will…” Liam looked up, and a single, perfect teardrop clung to his lashes, shimmering like a shattered diamond in the soft light. “So, Nina, are you really going to leave me for her…? Are you going to watch me die? Do you have the heart? Can you really stand by and watch me die?” Looking at his tear-streaked, pitiful face, I felt my heart clench into a tight knot. I wanted to swear an oath to the heavens. “No, no, I won’t! I won’t leave you! I promise, I’ll stay with you all night. Even if she gets mad at me, I’m staying here with you tonight.” …Sorry, bestie. My priorities were embarrassingly clear.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384483”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When I married Nathan Wittrock, he was just a kid with empty pockets. Five years into our marriage, his startup took off, making him the new darling of the tech world. I thought our struggles were finally over, that we had finally made it. But then one night, I saw him walking into a hotel, his arm wrapped around his young female assistant. “Let’s get a divorce.” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. Nathan just stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief. “Chloe, are you out of your mind? A divorce? You worked so hard to plant this tree, and now you want to let some other woman enjoy the shade?” 1 I’d been away on a business trip for three months, and when I came home, Nathan’s welcome was nothing short of fiery. My arms were looped around his neck, his slick sweat dappling my skin as we moved together. We were lost in the moment when his phone, sitting on the nightstand, began to vibrate, a harsh buzz cutting through the quiet intimacy of the room. My eyes fluttered open, laced with annoyance. “Who in the world is calling this late?” Nathan’s expression didn’t flicker. With a practiced smoothness, he reached over and silenced the screen. “Just a spam call, probably.” But the caller was relentless. The phone buzzed again, and again. Without even a glance, Nathan kept rejecting the calls, his thumb jabbing at the screen until, with a final, exasperated sigh, he switched the phone off completely. He let out a sharp “tsk,” the sound cutting through the air, and planted a restless kiss on my cheek. “Sorry, babe,” he murmured, his voice a low hum. “That kind of killed the mood.” He propped himself up, his eyes locking with mine. “You’ve been traveling for weeks, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.” He held me tight, his embrace as warm and familiar as ever, whispering sweet nothings just like he always did. And even though our moment was cut short, a warmth spread through my chest. We had been married for five years, and all our friends called us the perfect couple. While I was away, he had been the model husband, calling three times a day, without fail, just to report his whereabouts. Sometimes, when work was overwhelming, I’d tell him he was being clingy. He would whine playfully, accusing me of forgetting all about my poor husband the second I left town, calling me a heartless woman. It was childish and ridiculous, so unlike the composed, commanding CEO he was at work. But I always fell for it. His antics always knew how to soothe me. After cuddling for a while longer, I slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower. When I came back, wrapped in a towel, I found Nathan dressed to go out, adjusting his hair in the mirror. “You’re not going out, are you? It’s the middle of the night,” I asked, surprise coloring my tone. “Emergency at the office,” he said, turning to give me a quick peck on the cheek. “I have to go handle it. You go to sleep, Chlo. Be good.” But I couldn’t sleep. My rest was fitful, and in the dead of night, I finally heard the front door click open. Nathan was back. He was drunk, stumbling, leaning heavily on a young woman. She was tall and slender, with sharp features softened by a sweet, gentle smile. “You must be Chloe,” she said, her voice smooth. “I’m Faye, Mr. Wittrock’s assistant. He had a bit too much to drink, so I brought him home.” She started to guide him toward the living room. “He likes to lie on the couch for a bit when he feels sick. Could you… move aside, please? I’ll help him over.” I froze. The last I knew, Nathan’s assistant was a man in his thirties—a capable professional who handled everything from driving to deflecting unwanted drinks at business dinners. He’d never let Nathan come home in this state. When had he hired a young girl? Shoving my doubts down, I helped Faye settle Nathan onto the couch. “I’m so sorry about this,” Faye said, her face a perfect picture of sincerity and guilt. “It’s my fault. I’m not a good drinker, and Mr. Wittrock was covering for me. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have gotten this drunk…” I looked at her, then at Nathan, passed out on the sofa. A chill crept into my heart. Nathan was a demanding boss, known for his iron-fisted, ruthless management style. And he’d taken drinks for a junior assistant? How… considerate. I nodded curtly at Faye. “It’s late. You should get home and rest. Thank you for tonight.” She hesitated. “Chloe… I mean, Mrs. Wittrock… he must be feeling awful. His stomach will be in knots. Should I… maybe make him some honey water?” Honey water? I’m allergic to honey. There isn’t a single drop of it in this house. Before I could even speak, Faye was already heading toward the kitchen, moving with an unnerving familiarity. Interesting. I crossed my arms and waited. I was curious to see what other surprises Faye had in store for me. Sure enough, she returned holding a small jar of honey. With swift, practiced movements, she mixed the drink, walked over to the couch, and knelt down beside Nathan, her posture strikingly natural, ready to spoon-feed the honey water to him. I almost had to laugh. The girl had guts. She moved around another woman’s home as if she owned the place, more the lady of the house than I was. The spoon was just touching Nathan’s lips when Faye seemed to remember I was there. She shot up, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she looked at me with wide, apologetic eyes. “Oh my God, Chloe, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot you were here. It’s just… I’m so used to taking care of him when he’s had too much to drink. It’s second nature. Please don’t get the wrong idea.” I wasn’t about to lose my temper over a girl like her. I just smiled. “So, Nathan’s been drinking a lot on business dinners these past few months while I’ve been away?” Faye looked deeply ashamed. “I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I have a sensitive stomach and can’t handle alcohol, so Mr. Wittrock always steps in for me…” Right, right. I get it. Your boss is so good to you. He hired a useless assistant who can’t do her job and, in fact, needs him to cover for her. You must be his precious little darling. The whole charade was exhausting. After I finally managed to get Faye out the door, I stood there, just looking at Nathan slumped on the couch. There was no denying he was handsome. Sharp, chiseled features. The lean frame of his youth had filled out, giving him the solid, commanding presence of a successful man. The kind of man who would naturally attract attention. The broke kid nobody believed in had transformed into a dashing tech mogul. Money has always been a powerful lure, and he had the looks to go with it. It was only natural that women would want him, would fantasize about him. I sighed and began to peel off his clothes. “Chlo, my head hurts… I feel sick…” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling into me like a child. I gently pushed him off and pulled at his last remaining sock. My hands stopped cold. The sock was inside out. Nathan had a mild form of OCD. Everything in his life, from the way he dressed to the files on his desk, was meticulously organized, flawlessly neat. I used to tease him about being so rigid. He would just smile and say, “Rules create efficiency. They save time, save energy.” And now, this man of rules and order had put a sock on inside out. 2 The next morning, the sun rose as it always did. Except for a wine-stained suit in the laundry hamper, it was as if last night had never happened. During breakfast, Nathan was glued to his phone, a constant tap-tap-tap of his thumbs as he replied to messages. My husband, I thought with a strange sense of detachment, was in love. The smile on his face was so genuinely sweet. It was a deep, uncontainable joy—the kind I remembered from when we first fell for each other. It used to be that if I so much as glanced at my phone at the table, he would snatch it away, complaining that we were both too busy and should cherish our mornings together. Three months. That’s all it took for him to forget his own rules. I said nothing, just sat down and started eating. Breakfast was important. Someone else’s love affair wasn’t going to stop me from enjoying my meal. Perhaps sensing the charged silence, Nathan finally looked up from his screen, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Hey, you’re quiet today. Who got on your bad side?” I hadn’t decided how to handle this yet, but his question pushed me over the edge. I decided to just lay it all out. “Who was the girl who brought you home last night?” He didn’t even look up, just locked his phone and flipped it facedown on the table. “Oh, you mean Faye?” he said, his voice breezy. “She’s the new assistant.” “How come you never mentioned her?” He sounded almost pouty. “You’re always so busy. I can never get a word in when we talk on the phone.” A small, humorless smile touched my lips. “So you hired an assistant who can’t drink? One you have to cover for at business dinners?” “She’s just a kid,” Nathan said, a defensive edge to his voice. “Fresh out of college. What does she know about drinking?” “Exactly,” I pressed. “That’s what I’m curious about. Why hire a young girl for that role?” Nathan’s brows knitted together for a second before he broke into a laugh. “Honey, you’re not getting jealous, are you? Faye told me what happened last night. She brought me home once before when I got drunk, and that’s when she bought the honey. Don’t overthink it.” Everything he said sounded logical, reasonable. If I pushed any further, I’d be the one who was being petty and insecure. I lowered my head and focused on my oatmeal, dropping the subject. Nathan slid his chair closer, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Sweetheart, I have to go to Chicago the day after tomorrow. Could you help me pack?” “The day after tomorrow? That’s so sudden,” I said, frowning. Thinking I was upset, he wrapped his arms around me, swaying gently. “It’s a huge client, really important. I have to be there.” “Don’t be mad, Chloe,” he cooed. “I know it’s sudden, but with a client this big, you can’t say no. When I get back, we’ll take a proper vacation, just the two of us.” I let him think he had won me over. Truthfully, I was relieved. A little space from him was exactly what I needed. Whether something was really going on with him and Faye was still uncertain. Sometimes, tearing down the veil only makes things messier. I needed time. I needed to know for sure. Later, while Nathan was showering, I found myself half-heartedly packing his suitcase. My hand brushed against a small, round bottle. I let out a hiss of pain as a sharp edge pricked my finger. Picking it up, I saw it was a bottle of stomach medication. But Nathan had always been as strong as an ox, his digestive system ironclad. Had all that drinking recently taken a toll on him? Nathan emerged from the bathroom, toweling his damp hair while casually asking me to pack a few extra pairs of underwear. “Nathan,” I said, holding up the bottle, my voice tight with manufactured concern. “What’s wrong with your stomach?” He blinked, then a grin spread across his face. “What are you thinking, you silly girl? My stomach’s fine. It’s just a precaution. Big clients mean big dinners.” I looked down, hiding the storm of emotion brewing in my eyes. Just last night, Faye had told me she had a sensitive stomach. “This is for Faye, isn’t it?” I asked, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. He met my gaze without flinching. “Yeah. The kid can be a bit careless. I was worried she’d forget her meds and end up in trouble.” Oh, how thoughtful. Taking drinks for his assistant, packing medicine for her. What was next? Tucking her into bed? The image of the inside-out sock flashed in my mind, a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. For all I knew, he was already tucking her into bed. “Faye’s a fresh graduate,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “No experience, no real skills to speak of. Why are you taking her to meet a major client? Wouldn’t your secretary or the director of marketing be a better choice?” My question hung in the air. “She needs to see the world, get a feel for the market. It’ll be good experience,” Nathan said, his patience wearing thin. “Everyone has to start somewhere. Chloe, why are you so hostile towards her? I already told you, we’re just colleagues.” Colleagues? I wanted to laugh. I really, really wanted to laugh. Nathan had countless brilliant, capable people working under him, and I’d never seen him be this “considerate” to any of them. He really thought I was a fool. Two years of dating, five years of marriage. Was this it? Was our seven-year itch finally here? In all our years together, I had never once checked up on Nathan. He was an open book, always telling me where he was going. I never had a reason to doubt him. I thought our bond was unbreakable. For the first time ever, late at night, while my husband was away on business, I dialed his number. I was half-expecting him not to answer. But the voice that came through the line wasn’t his. “Hello, Mrs. Wittrock.” It was Faye. Her voice was syrupy sweet, but it lacked the timidity she’d shown at my house. Now, it dripped with a newfound confidence. “Where’s Nathan? Put him on the phone,” I said, my voice shaking with a fury I could barely contain.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384482”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The year Jocelyn hit rock bottom, her first love shattered her collarbone with a knife—all for a thousand bucks. I was the one who pulled her from the river she tried to drown herself in, giving her a second chance at life. It took her five years to claw her way up, transforming into a business prodigy the city’s elite whispered about in awe. And at the absolute peak of her career, she chose to marry me. Everyone said I was the luckiest man alive. Until our wedding day. Ryan, the ex who had abandoned her, crashed the ceremony and forcibly kissed her in front of everyone. He ripped open his collar, revealing a canvas of ugly, purplish marks. His eyes, full of provocation, locked onto mine. “Has Jocelyn ever played like this with you, Ethan? The night before your wedding, she was in my bed, begging me not to leave.” A chilling cold washed over me, plunging me into an icy abyss. I turned to look at Jocelyn. She just stood there, silent. No denial. No explanation. In that single, deafening moment, I understood everything. 1 Under the stunned gaze of every guest, I slowly withdrew the wedding ring I held in my palm. Jocelyn’s hand shot out, grabbing mine. Her voice was as unnervingly calm as ever. “What’s wrong? Aren’t we continuing the ceremony?” She paid no mind to Ryan’s taunts, nor did she deny a single word he’d said. Her reaction seemed to stun Ryan the most. He began to tremble violently, his face a mask of disbelief and rage. “Jocelyn! Have you forgotten what you said to me yesterday?” He swept his hand across a table, shattering a wine glass. Snatching a shard of glass, he pressed it against his own throat. “If you dare marry him today, I’ll die right here.” The wild movement exposed more of the dark marks blooming across his skin. My mind flashed back to the night before. Jocelyn was a lightweight, which is why I always handled the drinking at business functions. But last night, she’d come home completely wasted. The moment she walked through the door, she was on me, her kisses more desperate and passionate than ever before. “Ethan, it’s you I love, it can only be you…” she murmured against my lips. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me like he did.” She repeated it like a mantra, as if trying to convince me, or maybe herself. Then her phone buzzed, shattering the spell. Her face went pale when she saw the caller ID, and she instinctively pushed me away. I caught her hand, my voice hoarse. “Don’t stop.” She’d never pushed me away like that before. Never. “Our wedding is tomorrow. You need to rest,” she said, her voice suddenly distant. “Something came up at the office. I have to take care of it.” She leaned in, giving me a quick, almost chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth before hurrying out. She never came home that night. Now, I clenched my fist around the ring. The diamond bit into my flesh, the sharp sting a brutal confirmation that this was no nightmare. The old Jocelyn would have had anyone who disrupted her wedding dragged out and destroyed. But this Jocelyn simply held out her hand, stubbornly waiting for me to place the ring on her finger. “This is our wedding day. Don’t make a scene,” she whispered, her eyes flashing with a warning. “Ignore him. He doesn’t have the guts to actually do it. Let’s just finish the ceremony.” Her dismissive tone was the final straw for Ryan. He completely lost it, smashing decorations, his voice cracking as he screamed through his tears. “I won’t let you marry him! You promised me! Yesterday, you told me marrying Ethan was just your way of repaying a debt!” Jocelyn’s expression hardened. She finally shot Ryan a look, but only to signal her bodyguards to remove him. “He wants to die,” I said, my voice flat as I stepped forward, blocking the bodyguards’ path. “Why not let him?” I put the ring back in my pocket and turned to Jocelyn. “Does your promise to me still stand?” The day Ryan came back into her life, the day he found out I was her fiancé, he’d ambushed me on the street and stabbed me three times. I nearly bled out on the pavement. Jocelyn had sworn to me then, promised me that if I ever saw him again, I could settle the score myself. This time, I didn’t wait for her answer. I grabbed a steak knife from a nearby table and plunged it into Ryan’s stomach. Blood bloomed from the wound, dripping onto the pristine white floor. Gasps echoed through the hall. Jocelyn, who had been so composed, finally broke. Her face contorted in panic. She rushed to Ryan’s side, frantically checking his injury before whirling on me, her voice a venomous hiss. “Ethan! What the hell are you doing?” Her face was a thundercloud as she announced the wedding was postponed indefinitely. Then, without another glance at me, she helped Ryan out of the hall and rushed him to the hospital. The bride was gone. The wedding was a wreck. The officiant stood awkwardly on the stage. Watching her leave without a moment’s hesitation, a sharp, splintering pain pierced my heart. I let the bloody knife clatter to the floor. Jocelyn could walk away. Fine. But that meant my bride could be replaced, too. 2 Jocelyn’s assistant picked me up and drove me to the hospital. As the city lights blurred past the window, the last five years with her replayed in my mind like a phantom film. Before she met me, Jocelyn had nothing. Ryan had taken her last bit of money, breaking her collarbone in the process, all during the year she needed him most. I was the one who stood by her, who guided her to where she is today. I was the one who drank myself into stomach surgery just to land her a career-making deal. We endured five brutal years together, and she finally became the powerhouse she’d always dreamed of being. And then, Ryan came back. When I arrived at the hospital, I found Jocelyn pacing frantically outside the operating room, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. The moment she saw me, her panic vanished, replaced by a cold mask. She strode toward me, opening her mouth to speak, but then she met my gaze and lowered her voice. “Ethan, that was all in the past. I already punished him. Why can’t you just let it go?” she demanded, her voice tight with suppressed anger. “Don’t you realize that if he dies, you’ll be a murderer?” She was trying so hard to control her fury, her knuckles white as she gripped the fabric of her dress, her eyes darting back to the closed doors of the OR. A bitter smile twisted my lips. I lifted my shirt, revealing the three jagged, ugly scars that marred my abdomen. “So this is just ‘the past’ to you?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. “Do you have any idea how close I was to dying when he gave me these? You were the one who knelt by my hospital bed, swearing to me that if I ever saw him again, I could get my own justice.” Her promise was the only reason I’d signed the settlement, the only reason I’d agreed not to press charges. After that, Ryan had disappeared. I thought he was gone for good, but it turned out Jocelyn had been in contact with him all along. “I stabbed him once,” I said, my voice hollow. “And you’re already falling apart.” Jocelyn rubbed her temples, her frustration boiling over. “What do you want from me? I’ve finally secured my position in this city. Do you expect me to just stand by and watch you go to prison for murder?” She sighed, a long, weary sound, as if my actions today were nothing more than an inconvenience. “We’ve come so far. Can you please just stop making trouble?” “Good,” I said, my voice cold. “Since the wedding’s off anyway, this makes things simpler. If you want to rekindle things with your first love, I won’t stand in your way.” Her eyes turned to ice. The disappointment in them was a physical blow. “Is the wedding all you can think about right now? Is it that hard for you to admit you were wrong? There’s nothing going on between me and Ryan. Can’t you trust me for once? I just don’t want to see you resort to violence. If you actually killed him, what would I do?” Her words were so absurd I almost laughed. Before I could respond, the doors to the operating room swung open. A doctor pushed Ryan out on a gurney. “The wound wasn’t too deep. You got him here just in time. He’s out of danger now.” Jocelyn stared at Ryan’s pale face, her brow furrowed with worry. She reached out, her fingers gently tracing his cheek. Then, she took the knife—the same one I’d used at the wedding—from her assistant. Before I could process what was happening, she raised it to her own collarbone and slashed. Twice. Droplets of her blood spattered onto my face. I stood frozen, watching the color drain from her cheeks as crimson bloomed across the pristine white of her wedding dress. “Are you satisfied now?” she hissed, her voice trembling with pain and fury. “I’ve paid his debt with these two cuts. Now, you will leave him alone.” I closed my eyes, a dry, burning sensation behind them. “Fine,” I said, my voice devoid of all emotion. “We’re getting a divorce. From now on, we’re strangers.” 3 Jocelyn never came home after that. She stayed at the hospital, by Ryan’s side, for as long as he was there. I didn’t try to contact her. Instead, I had my lawyer deliver the divorce papers to her office. I also called the wedding planner and told them to change the bride’s name on the invitations. It was about time for my new bride to arrive, anyway. I glanced at the calendar on the wall, at the date circled in red. Today was also the anniversary of my sister’s death. “Lily,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the glass of the picture frame. “Jocelyn has changed. The person you saved… she doesn’t want me anymore.” My sister, Lily, had been Jocelyn’s best friend. When Jocelyn’s career was just taking off, a rival sabotaged them. They planted a bomb in their car. In the split second before the explosion, Lily shoved Jocelyn out of the vehicle. Lily was blown to pieces. There was nothing left to bury. After that, Jocelyn and I never spoke of her death. With the first money she ever made, Jocelyn bought her a plot in the city’s most beautiful cemetery. Every year, on this day, we would visit her together. But this year, I was alone. I held a bouquet of lavender, Lily’s favorite, and headed to the cemetery, a strange sense of dread coiling in my stomach. When I arrived, the place was swarming with men in black suits. Jocelyn’s bodyguards. My heart hammered against my ribs. I shoved my way through them, my blood running cold. The sight that greeted me almost drove me insane. “Dig faster. Get the urn out,” Jocelyn commanded her men. She stood over my sister’s grave, watching as they unearthed it with shovels. Once the urn was out, one of her men handed it to Ryan. The next second, with a triumphant, vicious smirk, Ryan smashed the urn on the ground. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” “Jocelyn, have you lost your mind?! THIS IS LILY’S GRAVE!” My legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees. I scrambled forward, my hands trembling as I tried to scoop up my sister’s ashes from the mud. Jocelyn hadn’t expected me. She shot an irritated glare at her assistant. “I told you to keep him away.” She reached down to help me up, but I slapped her hand away. “Lily DIED for you! How could you do this? Aren’t you afraid of the consequences?!” I roared, fighting back tears, trying desperately not to let them fall and mix with the ashes. The wind was cruel, scattering what little remained. In the end, all I had was a handful of gray dust. Beside her, Ryan draped an arm around Jocelyn’s shoulders, his expression oozing with smug satisfaction. “Joce, you promised you’d grant my wish, remember?” A tremor ran through me. I slowly, stiffly, raised my head to look at her. A year ago, she had chosen this very spot for Lily, posting guards to ensure she would never be disturbed. And now, because of a single sentence from Ryan, she had dug up her grave. Jocelyn didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong. She knelt in front of me, her voice soft, almost gentle. “Lily’s been gone for so long, Ethan. She’s probably been reincarnated by now.” “I’ll build her a new, better memorial later.” “Ryan promised me,” she continued, her voice pleading, “that if I did this one thing for him, he would leave me alone for good. Then I can finally be with you, with no distractions.” The veins in my temples throbbed. I stared at her, my voice a low, guttural snarl. “You are pathetic, Jocelyn. Ryan would break your bones for a thousand dollars, and you’re still obsessed with him.” “I should have let you die in that river.” My voice was raw. I pushed myself to my feet, ready to lunge at Ryan, ready to kill them both right here. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to see them both dead. But the next sound wasn’t my own scream of rage. It was the deafening crack of a gunshot echoing through the cemetery.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384481”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’m on a family reality show with my pop-star brother, and the producers want us to “open our hearts” and resolve our deepest issues on camera. Suddenly, my brother, who’s usually a literal ray of sunshine, buries his face in his hands and starts sobbing, accusing me of being cold and distant our entire childhood. As the cameras zoom in and I can feel the tidal wave of online hate about to crash over me, I try to explain, my face a mask of pure exasperation. “You spent your days setting off firecrackers in cow pies with Jay-Jay from next door, then came home wanting to cuddle. How exactly was I supposed to get close to you?!” My brother blinks, stunned for a second. “But you gave away Snowflake, my favorite dog…” That leaves me even more speechless. “You used to French-kiss that dog! You insisted she was a girl and that you were going to marry her. What, does every female on the planet have to marry you?” Leo: “…” The A-list star beside me is doubled over with laughter. I shoot him a glare. “Don’t act like you weren’t part of it, Jay-Jay.” 1 I was in the middle of signing a multi-million dollar contract when my brother’s frantic call came through. “Vivian!” “What is it?” A nerve in my temple twitched. Anytime Leo actually called me by my name instead of some ridiculous nickname, it meant trouble. His voice turned syrupy sweet. “So, next week I’m supposed to be on this reality show about family bonds, but Mom and Dad are off on their European tour, so I was hoping my favorite big sister could fill in…” After Leo started college, he was scouted by an agency and became a pop star. I never expected the little brat who used to drive me insane would actually carve out a niche for himself in the entertainment industry with some serious talent. I gestured for my assistant to close the office door and shut him down flat. “No. I’m busy.” “Wait, wait, wait! Viv, you remember Everett, right? Everett Song?” “Everett?” “Yeah. He’s the main investor behind the show, and he’s also a special guest. They only asked me to join last minute because another guest dropped out. Come on, Viv, can’t you just spare a few days? For old times’ sake? He’s helped me out a few times in the industry, you know.” Everett Song was our neighbor when we were kids. We lost touch after he moved abroad for school, only keeping up with the occasional text. All I knew was that he was now an A-list star. Listening to Leo’s relentless pleading, I realized I wasn’t getting out of this. My eyes drifted to the file on my desk. I raised an eyebrow. “Fine, I’ll do it. On one condition. You get me Everett Song for my company’s new product launch.” “What? You want Everett to be the face of a new lipstick line?” A small smile played on my lips. “We’re not exactly close anymore. If I ask him, he could say no. So, I’m leaving it to you.” Leo went quiet for a moment before muttering under his breath, “He’d probably be more likely to say yes if you asked him…” “What was that?” “I said, ‘Consider it done!’” His voice was dripping with fake enthusiasm. “See you at the show, Viv!” After he hung up, I tapped my fingers on the tabletop. A few days on a reality show in exchange for an endorsement from an A-list star? That was a hell of a deal. 2 When the day came, I cleared my schedule and headed straight for the studio. The show was a live broadcast featuring three pairs of family members, plus Everett as a special guest. The premise was simple: play some games, do some activities, and strengthen their bonds. With an A-lister like Everett on board, the online hype was through the roof. [OMG, Everett’s first solo project as a producer! I’m so here for it!] [I heard Leo Wen is bringing his sister. Is this the one he said used to beat him up all the time? LOL.] [Evan Chen, the award-winning actor, is bringing his daughter on a show for the first time! I can’t wait!] The studio was massive, and I couldn’t find Leo anywhere. “Ms. Wen?” a sugary voice called out. I turned. Oh, Meagen Kane. Another one of the guests. Her eyes curved into a crescent shape. “I can’t believe I’m running into you here. What a coincidence.” “Hmm,” I said, sliding off my sunglasses. “My name is Vivian. And yes, quite the coincidence.” “I heard Vivida Cosmetics is looking for a new face for your latest campaign,” she said, her smile never wavering as she pulled a delicate-looking boy to her side. “This is my brother, Caleb. He’s a rising pop star too. If you have an opportunity, you should really keep us in mind.” I looked Meagen up and down, tucking my sunglasses into the collar of my blouse. The irony was almost suffocating. Three years ago, I had just spun off from my family’s corporation to launch Vivida Cosmetics. The face I wanted for my brand, more than anyone, was the up-and-coming starlet Meagen Kane. She had an innocent look, a sweet-girl-next-door vibe. Her fame wasn’t at its peak, but I believed the brand and the ambassador could grow together. To show how serious I was, I went to meet her myself, armed with a detailed brand proposal and a full set of samples. She’d taken one look at them and tossed the samples on the floor, her face twisted in a sneer. “Are you kidding me? Every no-name brand thinks they can get an endorsement now? Who knows if this junk will make my face break out. Get lost. Don’t waste my time.” Three years later, Vivida went from an unknown startup to a household name in cosmetics. Meagen Kane? Still a B-list starlet, treading water. But I had to give her credit for her nerve. A small laugh escaped me. “A no-name brand like ours couldn’t possibly afford stars of your caliber.” Meagen’s smile froze. Before I could turn to leave, she grabbed my arm, her eyes welling up. “You might have misunderstood me back then. I never meant to—” “Vivian.” A cool, magnetic voice cut her off. Everett Song was standing there in a loose white button-down, his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. His handsome, almost aloof features were softened by a hint of a smile. “There you are.” For a second, my mind went blank. He was so much more striking in person than on screen. I found my voice. “I just got here. I was looking for—” “Mr. Song,” Meagen interrupted, a single tear clinging to her lashes. “I’m so happy to be a part of your show. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Everett glanced at her and gave a curt nod. “The dressing rooms are over there. The AC is on if you need to cool down.” “Oh?” He ignored her, his eyes finding mine again, a genuine warmth in them. “Long time no see.” 3 Everett led me to where Leo was waiting, and after a few brief pleasantries, the show began. The lineup was set: Leo and me, Meagen and Caleb Kane, and the veteran actor Evan Chen with his four-year-old daughter, Lily. And, of course, our special guest, Everett. The host kicked things off with a beaming smile. “Welcome to our first segment—‘The Unspoken Word’! This is a chance for our families to open their hearts and share things they’ve never been able to say.” “First up, let’s welcome Meagen and Caleb Kane!” It was a classic, tear-jerking setup. Meagen and Caleb held hands, gazing at each other with tear-filled eyes as they recounted their journey from a difficult childhood to their careers. One moment, the brother was talking about his sister’s sacrifices; the next, the sister was weeping over the hardships he’d endured. The sentimental background music swelled, and they broke into full-blown sobs. I propped my chin on my hand, stifling a yawn. Leo, munching on a bag of sunflower seeds beside me, whispered, “So fake.” I nodded in agreement. “They’re really laying it on thick. I bet she beat the crap out of him when they were kids.” Leo choked on a seed. The live comments, however, were a waterfall of emotion. [I’m crying. Seriously, their bond is so touching. They’ve had it so tough in this industry, always supporting each other…] [Did you see the camera pan to Vivian and Leo? Their expressions are priceless, lol.] [Forget them, has anyone noticed Everett? Why does he keep looking to his right? Who’s sitting there?] A poke on my left arm. I turned to meet Everett’s clear, light-brown eyes. “What?” A corner of his mouth lifted. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur. “I heard you want me to be the face of your new product line.” On stage, Meagen was still in the middle of a dramatic, tear-stained monologue. I blinked, caught off guard by the question. Recovering quickly, I leaned closer too. “That’s right. It’s a new lipstick collection called ‘First Love.’ I think you’d be perfect for it.” “And why is that?” He was so close I could see the natural curve of his eyelashes. “You’ve got the star power, and your public image is basically America’s sweetheart,” I said, all business. “But most importantly, you’re incredibly handsome. You’re the perfect fit.” And your fans have incredible purchasing power. He let out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Then why not ask me to be the brand ambassador for the whole company?” I was momentarily speechless. “Can’t afford you.” There were better ways to spend that kind of money, like on R&D. “I’ll give you a discount.” “What?” As I stared, stunned, his hand, all long fingers and elegant knuckles, reached for my collar. For a split second I froze, then instinctively flinched away. The stool I was on wobbled, and I felt myself tipping backward, but his hand shot out and grabbed my arm, steadying me. Everett held up the sunglasses he’d plucked from my collar. “These were about to fall.” “…” I’d forgotten they were even there. “Thanks,” I mumbled, reaching for them. “I’ll hold on to them for you,” he said, smoothly tucking them into the pocket of his shirt. “You’re up next.” “Huh?” 4 I glanced at the stage and saw Meagen and Caleb back in their seats. Leo was already up there, microphone in hand. He had just finished introducing himself and was now introducing me. “My sister is three years older than me. She runs her own company and is usually swamped with work. We actually haven’t seen each other in three months, so I’m grateful to this show for giving us a chance to finally talk.” I watched him on stage—so confident and bright, a far cry from the goofy kid I grew up with. A small smile touched my lips as I focused on what he was saying. “When we were little, our parents were always busy, so my sister and I spent most of our childhood at our grandparents’ house. We were together for eight or nine years… I really miss those days.” “I love my sister so, so much. Even if…” His voice cracked, and his eyes instantly reddened. “Even if she doesn’t love me that much, I’ll always love her.” A hush fell over the set. I was dumbfounded. I turned to Everett. “Is this… part of the show? His acting is pretty convincing.” Everett looked just as surprised. “No. This show is completely unscripted.” Me: “???” The host guided me onto the stage. By now, Leo had gone through several tissues, his eyes puffy and red. He looked like a kicked puppy. The online comments were flooded with messages of sympathy. And I just stood there, completely lost. “What is going on?” “I didn’t want to say any of this, but once that sappy music started playing…” Leo’s crying escalated into a high-pitched wail. “I just couldn’t hold it in!” “I feel like I’ve been the only one putting in any effort our whole lives! You never wanted to be close to me, and I was always chasing after you like a lost puppy, but you couldn’t stand me! You didn’t like me, you ignored me…” The host rushed over with a whole box of tissues, and Leo grabbed it, letting out a series of heart-wrenching sobs. The viewers online were in an uproar. [My heart is breaking for Leo! I wish I were his sister!] [What kind of sister is she?! If my brother were Leo Wen, I’d spoil him rotten!] [So what if she owns a company?! Just cut ties with her! A sister like that is worse than no sister at all!] I was speechless. Seriously? Leo sniffled a few more times. “But I never blamed you, Vivian. Really.” I looked at him, my expression a mixture of confusion and pity. Yep, my brother was a certified idiot. “You know, I think your memory might be a little fuzzy. Why don’t I jog it for you?” My brows knitted together in disgust. “When you were a kid, you spent all day with Jay-Jay from next door, setting off firecrackers in cow pies. Then you’d come home, not even showered, and try to hug me. How exactly was I supposed to get close to you?!” “What?” Leo’s tears stopped mid-stream. I continued without mercy. “You chased me around like a maniac every single day. Was I not allowed to run away?” The sentimental music screeched to a halt. The live chat froze. Leo, momentarily stunned, tried to defend himself. “But… you gave away Snowflake, my favorite dog! I raised her from a puppy!” That just made me even more exasperated. “You used to French-kiss that dog! And you kept insisting she was a girl and that you were going to marry her. What, does every female on the planet have to marry you?” “Snowflake would take off running the second she saw you. You didn’t just chase me; you chased the dog too.” “Have you forgotten about the three rounds of rabies shots?!” At that, Leo fell completely silent, his face blank. The memories were clearly flooding back. Meanwhile, thinking about our childhood was just making me angrier. He was nothing but trouble! Just as I was about to really let him have it, a low chuckle cut through the tension, clear as a bell. 5 I froze, my gaze snapping over to Everett. His lips were curved into a wide, unrestrained grin. I’d almost forgotten. He was the real mastermind behind all of it! He was the one who supplied my brother with firecrackers for the cow pies, acting as his military strategist. He was the one who encouraged Leo to bring home tadpoles, which turned into a house full of toads just to scare me. He’d corrupted my brother, then conveniently disappeared overseas. It took me years to beat some sense back into Leo. And now Everett had the nerve to laugh? I shot him a look, mouthing silently, “As if I wasn’t talking about you, Jay-Jay?” His smile faltered. He cleared his throat, raising a fist to his lips to cover a cough. The sound drew everyone’s attention, and a camera swiveled right to him. Everett put on his best official smile and delivered a summary. “It just goes to show, no childhood punishment is ever wasted.” The live comments exploded. [I am on my KNEES! I’m so sorry, I completely misjudged Vivian!] [LMAO, Vivian is literally me. I couldn’t stand my little brother when we were kids, and he was so clingy!] [Compared to this, the Kanes’ whole teary-eyed act feels so scripted now…] Leo and I returned to our seats, his eyes now shining with a newfound innocence. “Hehe, Viv, I really thought you hated me all this time…” “You’re an idiot.” Next up were Evan Chen and his daughter. Little Lily, in her sweet, piping voice, asked if she could watch an extra thirty minutes of cartoons every day. Evan lovingly agreed, telling her all he wanted was for her to grow up happy. The heartwarming scene melted everyone’s hearts. “And now, for our second segment—‘A Change of Heart’!” the host announced. “Each guest will draw a colored card. Those with matching colors will become a new ‘family’ for this challenge and complete a task together!” Now that sounded interesting. I drew a blue card and scanned the room to see who my partner would be. Suddenly, Leo grabbed my arm, holding up a rainbow-colored card like it was a bomb. “Vivian! Help me!” I saw Caleb Kane holding a matching rainbow card and looked back at my brother, confused. “Isn’t Caleb from your agency? You already know him. What’s the big deal?” “No, no, no,” Leo whispered frantically, shaking his head. “He’s gay.” Me: “???” 6 My eyes widened as I looked from the delicate-featured Caleb back to my goofy brother. Gay?! Leo ducked behind me, hiding his card. “You don’t follow the gossip, Viv, you wouldn’t know. He’s always trying to queerbait with me for the cameras, and I want no part of it.” “The agency sent us on a travel show together once, and it was a nightmare. He’d ‘accidentally’ fall into my arms or ‘unintentionally’ brush his hand against my butt. At first, I just thought he was being friendly…” “Then I saw the fan edits of us online.” Leo’s face contorted in disgust. “The way they cut those clips… I almost thought we were actually dating.” “The man is a menace!” I was shocked, but also a little amused. I gave Leo a long, scrutinizing look. “And you’re…?” “A hundred percent straight! I can’t be on a team with him again. My reputation will never recover!” Seeing my brother so genuinely repulsed was actually kind of hilarious. Poor guy. Leo started wheedling again. “Please, Viv, switch with me. Please, please, please…” Sighing, I gave in. “Fine, give me your card—” Before I could finish, I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked down to see a small hand holding up a blue card. Lily Chen blinked her big, innocent eyes up at me. “Aunty, I want to be on your team. Can you please not switch with that uncle?” Leo froze, offended. “Uncle? Me? And she’s ‘Aunty’?” Lily just blinked again and hid behind me. “I just want to be with this aunty. Uncle, can you please let me?” On one hand, my own flesh and blood. On the other, a completely adorable little girl I’d just met. The choice was obvious. The adorable little girl, of course! I couldn’t hide my grin as I scooped Lily into my arms. “Of course, sweetie. I’d love to be on your team. Sorry, Leo. You’re on your own.” Leo: “???” Another card appeared in front of me, this one also blue, followed by Everett’s handsome face. He raised an eyebrow. “Looks like I drew blue too. Mind if I join?” I stared for a moment, momentarily captivated. That face was truly flawless. Everett patted Leo’s shoulder. “Good luck.” Leo turned away, his voice filled with despair. “That’s it, I’m disowning all of you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384480”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I was at my cousin’s auto club for a routine service on my car. When they finished up, I told the staff, “Just put it on Ryan’s tab.” The mechanic nodded and was about to process it when a manager I’d never seen before stepped in. “We don’t run tabs here,” she said sharply. “All bills must be settled on-site.” With a flick of her wrist, she slapped the invoice down on the counter in front of me. Executive Tier Precision Diagnostic: $12,000 Acoustic Resonance Signature Enhancement: $15,000 Engine Psychosomatic Harmony Calibration: $15,000 Total: Forty-two thousand dollars. I almost laughed out loud. Since when did my cousin start running a chop shop? The manager, a woman with a severe haircut and an even more severe expression, crossed her arms and looked me up and down with undisguised contempt. “I’ve seen plenty of broke relatives like you, trying to freeload off a family name. If you can’t afford the lifestyle, don’t pretend you can.” Without another word, I pulled out my phone and dialed my cousin. “You have ten minutes to get her out of my sight,” I said, my voice low and even. “Or you can kiss this entire club goodbye.” … “Cole… is there some kind of misunderstanding?” On the other end of the line, my cousin Ryan’s voice was laced with a nervous tremor. “A misunderstanding?” My tone turned to ice. “Do I sound like someone who starts trouble for no reason? This isn’t a discussion, Ryan. It’s a notification. Handle your people. Now.” My sharp tone seemed to jolt him. “Okay, okay, don’t be mad, Cole,” he stammered, trying to placate me. “Just put Jessica on the phone. I’ll ask her what’s going on.” I let out a cold snort and handed the phone to the manager. Her name was Jessica, apparently. She rolled her eyes and snatched the phone from my hand. “I’ve told you a million times to stop hanging around these deadbeat relatives,” she hissed into the receiver. “All they do is use your name to get freebies. This one’s the worst yet—he’s trying to skip out on the bill entirely.” I could hear Ryan trying to explain something, but Jessica cut him off. “Stop it. I know you’re too soft, always worried about family feelings. You can’t bring yourself to do what’s necessary, so I’ll be the bad guy today!” She hung up, tossed the phone back at me, and tilted her chin up defiantly. “You heard him. Ryan can’t be bothered with this. Now, let’s settle up. The total is forty-two thousand, seven hundred and fifty. I’ll be generous and waive the change. Forty-two thousand flat.” “Cash, card, or wire transfer? Let’s not drag this out, or I’ll have security escort you out.” She emphasized the word “escort,” her threat hanging in the air. I was so stunned by her audacity and sheer stupidity that I actually did laugh this time. In all my years, no one had ever dared to be this brazen with me. Just then, the door to the VIP lounge swung open and Ryan rushed in, a practiced, sycophantic smile plastered on his face. “Cole, hey! What’s all this about?” he said, jogging over. “Jess is just… very by-the-book. Don’t take it personally.” Before I could respond, Jessica bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Ryan, honey, I’m doing this for you! Do you want every lowlife off the street coming in here, dropping your name, and running this place into the ground?” She clung to his arm, shooting me a triumphant, challenging look over his shoulder. That’s when it all clicked. If I hadn’t figured it out by now, I’d be an idiot. This manager wasn’t just arrogant; she had backing. As if to confirm my suspicions, Ryan forced another smile and tried to play the family card. “Look, Cole, Jess is my girlfriend. We’re getting engaged next month. We’re all going to be family, right? Let’s just… let me pay the bill, and we can all move on.” “Not a chance,” I said, my voice flat. Ryan’s attitude was a cold slap in the face. If I hadn’t taken pity on him back in the day, remembering a kindness his mother had shown my father, he’d still be handing out résumés at job fairs. The design of this club, the business plan, the connections, even the startup capital—I had provided it all from behind the scenes. I’d stayed in the shadows to protect his ego, so he had no idea that I was the real owner. And now, for this short-sighted, venomous woman, he was ready to turn on me. Fine. No more mercy. Forty-two grand was a rounding error for me, less than what I spend on a casual Tuesday. This wasn’t about the money. It was about the betrayal from a wolf I had personally raised. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll pay.” A victorious smirk spread across Jessica’s face. Ryan let out a visible sigh of relief, clearly thinking the ordeal was over. “But…” My voice sharpened, rising in volume. “You’re going to explain this forty-two-thousand-dollar charge to me. Line by line. Item by item.” Jessica immediately produced the invoice again, reading it out in a tone dripping with condescending pride. “First, the Executive Tier Precision Diagnostic. We use a German-imported analysis machine, and the three-hour inspection is conducted by a specialist with an ‘International Artisan Certification.’ The fee is based on international standards, of course.” “Next, your exhaust system had an anomaly affecting its acoustic aesthetics. We performed an upgrade using our proprietary ‘Italian operatic tenor resonance chamber’ technique, giving the exhaust note the powerful, resonant quality of a Pavarotti aria. It’s a work of art.” I thought I’d misheard. The three business partners I’d brought with me were visibly trying not to laugh. Even Ryan had the decency to look down in embarrassment. But Jessica wasn’t done. “Finally, our technicians detected a power imbalance in your turbocharger. This is a highly complex issue requiring a Swiss vacuum-calibrated instrument, with remote guidance from our headquarters’ top experts to perform a psychosomatic recalibration, ensuring a spiritual harmony between the turbo and the engine.” “You know what that’s called?” she sneered. “It’s called unparalleled, top-tier service. Something you clearly know nothing about.” Her last words were a naked insult. One of my partners, a Mr. Davis, had heard enough. He stood up, trying to smooth things over. “Mr. Harrison, it’s getting late. Perhaps we should go? I can cover this.” I raised a hand to stop him. This was far beyond a simple matter of money now. I had brought my partners here to introduce them to Ryan, to throw him some business, and this is how I was treated. Forcing my anger down, I turned to my guests and offered a sincere apology. “Gentlemen, I am truly sorry you had to witness this absurd spectacle. To make it up to you, I’ll be booking out The Pinnacle Club this Saturday for a private dinner.” The moment the words left my mouth, their phones began to chime with booking confirmations from the club. Mr. Davis, who had just offered to pay my bill, now stared at me, his face a mixture of shock and excitement. While they were all successful businessmen, they weren’t in the truly elite circles. The Pinnacle Club was a legendary, invitation-only establishment frequented by billionaires and power brokers. You couldn’t just buy your way in. And I had secured it with a single text message. Any lingering doubt they might have had about me vanished in that instant. Their gazes were now filled with a clear and profound respect. I walked my partners to the main entrance, watching as their cars drove away. The moment their taillights disappeared, the smile dropped from my face, replaced by a glacial coldness. I turned to go back inside, ready to clean house. But Jessica was there, blocking the entrance with two burly security guards. “Stop right there!” she shrieked, pointing a finger at my nose. “You think you can just walk out of here? Not until you pay what you owe!” The guards stepped forward, flanking her menacingly. I stopped, staring at the utterly ridiculous scene. I was being held hostage at the entrance of my own property over a phantom debt. It was the joke of the century. The commotion had drawn the attention of other customers in the lobby, their curious and scornful gazes landing on me. You’d think I was a common thief trying to dine and dash. “Can you believe it? Someone trying to skip out on a bill at Apex?” “Tsk, tsk. Dressed so nicely, too. What a disgrace.” “If you can’t afford it, don’t come to Apex. So embarrassing.” The humiliation of being publicly accused like this sent a surge of fury through me. Beside them, Ryan was pale, sweat beading on his forehead. “Jess… maybe just let it go…” he pleaded, tugging at her sleeve. Jessica’s eyes went wide with fury. “Are you kidding me, Ryan? Have some backbone! The money is right there for the taking. Are you going to let a freeloader like him off the hook, or are you going to squeeze him for every last cent?” Ryan flinched and fell silent, shrinking back like a scolded dog. His spinelessness disgusted me and sealed my disappointment. My face was a cold mask as I pulled out my phone and called my assistant. “Chris, bring seventy-five thousand in cash from the car. Main entrance. Now.” A few minutes later, Chris arrived, carrying a heavy silver briefcase. I nodded for him to open it. With a soft click, the latches sprang open, revealing stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills, packed neatly inside. A collective gasp went through the lobby. All the whispers stopped. Jessica’s eyes widened, practically bulging out of her head. She clearly never imagined that the “broke relative” she’d been mocking could produce this much cash so effortlessly. “I should have asked for a hundred and fifty grand,” she muttered under her breath, a flash of avarice in her eyes. She swallowed hard, her breathing quickening as she stared at the money. She reached out to close the case. “Finally showing some sense,” she sneered. “Forty-two thousand for the service, and the rest… we’ll call it compensation for the emotional distress and reputational damage you’ve caused our club today.” “Wait.” I placed my hand on the lid, stopping her. Her eyes narrowed. “What? Having second thoughts?” “You can have the money,” I said, my gaze sharp as a razor. “But first, you’re signing a receipt. In black and white.” Ryan jolted as if struck by lightning, finally realizing this was spiraling far beyond his control. He grabbed Jessica’s arm, his voice pleading. “Jess, don’t sign it! We can’t take this money! Just give it back to him!” “Get off me, you useless coward!” Jessica shoved him away with a look of pure disgust. “Why would I give back money that’s already in my hands? He owes us this! I’ll sign whatever he wants. A signed receipt makes it official. No take-backs.” Greed had completely consumed her. She snatched a pen and paper from a nearby staff member and, without a second thought, scrawled her name—Jessica Thorne—across the bottom, even pressing her thumb into a red ink pad for a print. “There!” She shoved the receipt at me and slammed the briefcase shut, clutching it to her chest like a life raft. “See, honey?” she cooed, linking her arm with Ryan’s. “Told you I could handle it. Seventy-five grand! This will be my little secret fund. I’ve been dying to get that limited edition Hermès bag, and now I finally can!” She was lost in a fantasy of unearned luxury, a blissful smile on her face. Just as she was pulling a dazed Ryan towards the exit, the screech of tires echoed from outside. Three black SUVs, each emblazoned with the sleek “Apex” logo, pulled up to the curb. The doors flew open and a team of seven or eight men and women in dark, immaculate suits stepped out. They moved with a calm, deliberate purpose, each wearing the discreet pin of Apex Holdings on their lapel. The man in the lead was middle-aged, with a strong jaw and sharp, piercing eyes that radiated an aura of absolute authority. This was Marcus Thorne, the Director of Internal Audits. His arrival sent a shockwave through the club’s staff. Employees who had been gawking straightened up instantly, a palpable tension filling the air. Marcus ignored everyone, his eyes scanning the room until they locked onto me. He strode through the crowd, walked directly up to me, and bowed his head slightly. “Mr. Harrison. Marcus Thorne, Apex Holdings Internal Audit. My team is here, reporting for duty.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384479”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Gerston Croft, heir to a billion-dollar fortune, was exposed as an impostor. Now broke and disgraced, he was trying to end his life in a grimy basement. I clutched our old sugar daddy agreement, ready to tear it up and run—until a stream of text flashed before my eyes like a live chat: [Of course the side-chick’s a gold digger. Her leaving just makes way for the real heroine.] [After she leaves, she gets tortured to death by a sadistic new benefactor. If only she knew in six months the male lead will not only rebuild his empire but surpass the Crofts, becoming the youngest self-made billionaire. The irony would kill her again.] My hand shook; I tore the contract in two. I rushed into the bathroom. There he was, wrist bleeding. I grabbed his arm, sobbing without dignity. “Don’t die! Who’ll take care of me? I… I want to renew our contract!” His hollow eyes fell on the torn paper. “Really?” he whispered. 1 “You were only ever with me for the money,” he said, his voice flat. “And now you see the truth.” His eyes roamed the dank, grimy basement, a place of shadows and damp concrete. His lips, once a confident crimson, were now pale and bloodless. I pressed my hands against the cut on his wrist, but the blood still dripped, staining the floor a dark, ugly red. “I’ve been cast out by the Crofts. I’m hiding in this hellhole, a man who can’t even support himself, let alone you. So just go. I don’t blame you.” The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I had been with Gerston Croft for eight years. To the world, he was a polished, gentle heir. Only I knew the truth: he was a viper in a cashmere coat, vengeful to the core. His words were casual, forgiving, but the hand he kept hidden behind his back was clenched so tight the knuckles were white. I didn’t know if I could trust the bizarre text feed in front of my eyes, but my gut screamed at me to trust my instinct for survival. I couldn’t leave. If I did, I wouldn’t have to wait for some future sadist to kill me. Gerston would do it himself, slowly and creatively. I lunged forward, pressing my lips against his. He responded instantly, kissing me back with a desperate hunger that left me breathless. When I finally pushed him away, gasping for air, I snatched the torn contract from the floor. As he watched in stunned silence, I ripped the pieces into tiny shreds. I cupped his face in my hands, my voice earnest. “Gerston, I don’t want to be your mistress anymore.” A flicker of cold, murderous intent crossed his eyes. The comments in my vision sneered. [Wow, thought for a second she’d had a change of heart. Turns out she’s just here to twist the knife. Just you wait. When her new life turns into a nightmare, she’ll come crawling back, and the male lead won’t even give her the time of day.] [As soon as she’s gone, the heroine will burst in and save him. And so begins his epic comeback story. Cue the epic music.] I ignored the filth, my voice soft but threaded with a tension I couldn’t hide. “I know this might not be the right time, but… for the first time, I feel like we’re equals. So, Gerston Croft… will you be my boyfriend?” His eyes widened slightly. Before he could answer, the world went black. The last thing I saw was a single line of text. [Too late to change your mind. Defy the script, and you’re the one who pays the price.] A surge of anger rose in me. Follow the script? The script wanted me dead. To hell with that. In the darkness, a fire seemed to lick at my consciousness, burning me from the inside out. I ran and ran until, finally, my eyes flew open. I shot upright in a hospital bed, drenched in a cold sweat. A sharp pain radiated from my core. A groan escaped my lips. A cool hand touched my forehead, and I saw Gerston leaning over me, his face etched with fear. “Luna? Are you okay?” The pain was a constant torment. In the eight years I’d been with him, he had spoiled me rotten, shielding me from any hint of harm. I’d grown soft. The pain was too much. I started to cry. “It hurts. It hurts so much.” He stood up, panicked, and ran to find a doctor. The doctor who came back shot me an annoyed look. “If you can’t pay for the tests, you need to be discharged. You’re taking up a bed. What do you want me to do? No money, no treatment.” Gerston’s voice was a low growl. “Give her the best of everything. I have…” His voice trailed off. His proud shoulders, always so straight, slumped in defeat. He couldn’t meet my eyes. The doctor sneered. “You should probably go. You’ve got nothing left to pawn.” That’s when I noticed the silver ring he always wore was gone from his finger. Ignoring the pain, I scrambled out of bed, grabbed his hand, and pulled him toward the door, babbling nonsense to comfort him. “Honestly, it doesn’t hurt as much when I’m with you. You’re my painkiller, Gerston. You can’t get rid of me now.” A single, hot tear splashed onto our joined hands. Gerston’s voice was raw when he answered. “Okay.” A small smile touched my lips. I wasn’t lying. 2 [The male lead chose to take the side character to the hospital, so he missed his first meeting with the heroine. The plot is already off the rails.] [The plot’s punishment seems weaker, too. She shouldn’t even be able to walk right now. If she’d defied the original script this much, she’d be in a world of unimaginable pain.] [Ngl, I’m kinda starting to ship them. The fallen tycoon and his loyal canary. You don’t see that every day.] I hid the glint in my eyes, piecing together a survival plan from the fragments of information. Defying the plot brought punishment, but if Gerston chose me, consistently and without hesitation, it could derail the script. The punishment would weaken… or maybe even disappear. It all hinged on his love. I turned to look at the man who was once the prince of the city, now trailing behind me, holding my hand as if I were made of glass. I smiled. “So, you’re my boyfriend now. That means you’re going to work hard and get us back to the lifestyle we’re used to, right?” “I will,” he said, his voice firm with promise. [Is it just me, or did the male lead just go from sugar daddy to the side character’s puppy?] [Just wait until he starts working. The world will humiliate him, and that’s when the heroine will swoop in to save him. Their bond will be forged in fire. That’s the main event.] [So they missed their first meeting. Big deal. They’re fated. Side-chick should start looking for her next meal ticket now.] I didn’t stop Gerston from looking for work. The pain was a constant, gnawing presence, and sleep was my only escape. He came home exhausted every day, the knees of his once-immaculate suits covered in dust. I knew from the comments that he’d gone to an old friend from his circle, a guy named Chad. Chad despised Gerston for being an impostor but couldn’t bear to lose his genius for business. So, he took his resentment out in petty, cruel ways. The proud man I knew was now kneeling to polish another man’s shoes. He was hauling fifty-pound water coolers up twenty-six flights of stairs, replacing them in every office. He was standing for three hours in the breakroom, making coffee for the entire company. Chad even made him clean the bathrooms. I’d smelled the faint, sharp scent of bleach on him more than once. But despite it all, the first thing I saw when he came home was his smile. He’d put down the groceries he’d bought and immediately wrap me in his arms. “Feeling any better today?” I’d blink myself awake and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Much better, now that you’re holding me.” “I’m hungry.” Gerston would head to the kitchen, a natural in front of the stove now. I’d prop my head on my hand and enjoy the meltdown in the comments. [This is the same man who would take three showers if he smelled cooking oil on him. Now he’s a damn short-order cook for this girl.] [All she has to do is give him one compliment and he’s over the moon. And her whole ‘you’re my painkiller’ act is so cringe, it gives me goosebumps.] I rolled over in bed. Oh, it gets better. After dinner, he would do my laundry, clean the apartment, and then give me a full-body massage. Only after I was asleep would he start on the work he’d brought home. As long as he was here, my smallest discomfort was a national emergency. Like right now. He was kneeling by the bed, still in his apron. “Was that uncomfortable? Do you need me to help you turn over?” I put on my sweetest voice. “I need my boyfriend to kiss me.” He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. His hands, the same ones that signed billion-dollar deals, were now gently massaging my temples. The gnawing pain inside me subsided, and I closed my eyes, content. “A little lower. My shoulders.” A shrill ringtone cut through the quiet. Gerston paused before answering the phone. His brow furrowed. “There’s a problem at work, Luna,” he said, his voice full of apology. “I have to go out. Just finish dinner and leave the dishes. I’ll do them when I get back.” I watched him go. The comments exploded. [Chad’s been waiting for this. It’s not about work; it’s a setup. He’s going to break Gerston’s pride, assault him… but the heroine is on her way to save him! YES! My ship is about to sail!] [After tonight, the side-chick is officially out of the picture. Can’t wait to see the back of her whiny, manipulative ass.] 3 A jolt of adrenaline shot through me. I forced myself out of bed, ignoring the screaming pain, and chased after Gerston, determined to intercept his and the heroine’s fated night. Following the directions from the comments, I found the nightclub and slipped past the bouncer. The pounding music amplified my pain, but I pushed through the crowd toward the chaotic center of the dance floor. And then I saw him. Gerston, on the ground, being stomped on. Chad was grinding his heel into Gerston’s face, pinning him to the floor. The ground was littered with broken glass, the shards digging into Gerston’s skin. Blood and spilled liquor mixed into a sickeningly sweet miasma that made my stomach churn. “Still think you’re a prince?” Chad sneered. “You’re a fake. A nobody. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be begging on the streets right now.” “All I asked was for you to strip for us. You were willing to kneel and polish my shoes. Why the sudden high horse?” Chad’s face was twisted into a lecherous grin. He was known for being into both men and women, and tonight, he’d set his sights on Gerston. “You look tired. Just play nice, let me have some fun, and I can give you all the money and power you want.” Gerston’s chest heaved. He stared up at Chad with pure hatred. “Spit.” He spat a mouthful of blood onto Chad’s face, earning him a vicious volley of kicks. Chad furiously wiped his face. “Break his arms and legs!” he roared. “Strip him naked and hang him from the ceiling! Let’s see how long he lasts without food or water!” A bodyguard lifted a bar stool high and brought it crashing down. Gerston grunted, swallowing the scream that rose in his throat. My vision went red. Forgetting everything about the plot, about my own safety, I grabbed a fruit knife from a nearby table and charged into the circle, swinging it wildly. “Let us go!” I shrieked, my voice trembling. “Or none of us are walking out of here alive!” My crazed state made Chad take a step back. Then, a slow, dawning smile spread across his face. “Well, well. If it isn’t Gerston’s little canary, Luna. I’m surprised you’re still with him now that he’s broke. A loyal little whore, aren’t you?” His eyes raked over me. “I’ve had men, I’ve had women, but I’ve never had a matching set. This should be fun.” “Come be my girl. I’ll give you a lot more than he ever could.” The words were barely out of his mouth when Gerston, lying broken on the floor, exploded with a primal rage. He snatched the knife from my hand and lunged, plunging it deep into Chad’s eye socket. “You don’t touch her!” But he was outnumbered. Bodyguards swarmed him, pinning him down, their fists and feet raining blows on him. Chad writhed on the floor, screaming. “Get a doctor! Someone get me a doctor! And skin that bastard alive! I want him to beg for death!” I tried to shield Gerston with my own body but was kicked away, sent flying into a table. I coughed, a spray of blood leaving my lips. The fists continued to pound into Gerston, but it was as if he couldn’t feel it. His eyes were locked on me, on the blood on my lips. He struggled violently against his attackers. His eyes were blazing red. Run, he mouthed. [I knew this part was coming, but it’s still hard to watch. This incident leaves a permanent scar on him. Only the heroine’s love can heal him.] [This is Chad, the same guy who tortures Luna to death in the original plot. I wish I could jump through the screen and kill him myself.] That comment hit me like a physical blow. Rage and a desperate will to live flooded my senses. Why should I die at the hands of scum like this? Why should he get to destroy Gerston? I grabbed a jagged piece of broken glass from the floor and scrambled toward the now-unprotected Chad. As he roared in fury, I drove the shard deep into his neck. A hot spray of blood showered over me. Suddenly, a sharp, feminine voice cut through the chaos. “Stop! If anyone lays another hand on Gerston Croft, I will make them pay.” The world exploded in a flash of light. The comments went wild. [They’ve met! The male lead and the heroine have finally met! The plot is back on track!] An all-consuming pain washed over me, stealing the last of my strength. As my body went limp, I forced my head to turn, to look at Gerston one last time. And I saw it. A flicker of pure, unadulterated awe in his eyes as he looked at his savior.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384478”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For five years, I loved a man who couldn’t see me. Then, right before our wedding, a miracle happened: Ewing got his sight back. I stood before him, a playful smile on my face, my best friend Sophia by my side. I wanted him to guess which one of us was his fiancée. Without a moment’s hesitation, he chose Sophia. When our friends asked him why, he just blinked and then laughed. “Come on,” he said. “My Tina could never be ugly.” 1 The moment the bandages came off, the air in the room grew still, thick with anticipation. Everyone held their breath. I watched as Ewing, overwhelmed, pulled his friends into a series of tight, grateful hugs. Then, his eyes scanning the room, he asked the question I’d been dying to hear. “Where’s Tina?” A warmth spread through my chest. The first thing he wanted after regaining his sight… was me. Finally, his gaze found me by his hospital bed, tears of joy streaming down my face. As our eyes met, I took Sophia’s hand and pulled her up to stand beside me, my own tears still shimmering. Ewing had become incredibly sensitive to sounds during his blindness. Last night, Sophia and I had practiced, perfecting our vocal tones to match. The plan was simple: stand before him together, a little game to see if he could pick out the woman who had been his entire world for five long years. We spoke in unison, our voices intertwining. “Guess which one of us is your Tina?” “Guess which one of us is your Tina?” It was meant to be a harmless joke, a sweet test. After all, even though we’d only met after his accident, I had poured five years of my life into his care. We had built a love story from scratch, learning each other’s souls in the dark. Everyone, myself included, was certain he would know me in an instant. Ewing’s eyes flickered over my face. For a split second, I saw him pause, a flicker of confusion in his expression. Then, his gaze settled on Sophia, and a brilliant, confident smile—the one I knew so well—lit up his face. “Tina,” he said, his voice full of warmth as he reached for her. “Come here. Let me hold you.” 2 Ewing once told me, his words slurred with alcohol, about the accident. He’d been on his way to win back his ex-girlfriend when he crashed. A blood clot pressed against his optic nerve, plunging his world into darkness. His ex never visited. Not once. After that, Ewing had sealed himself off from the world, his personality becoming a minefield of unpredictable moods. No one dared to get close. Until me. At the time, I was in the hospital for my own reasons, my face a canvas of bruises and cuts from… an incident. Ewing’s room was right next to mine. In his world of darkness, he was the only person who couldn’t judge me for my appearance. He was quiet, a handsome statue of a man, and I turned him into my reluctant confidant, my emotional sounding board. Eventually, my constant chatter wore him down. He finally spoke to me, and one sentence turned into a conversation, a friendship, and then… love. As I helped him open his heart again, his old friends slowly trickled back into his life. Now, in this sterile white room, as he called my best friend by my name, a heavy silence fell over everyone. The air crackled with unspoken awkwardness. One of his friends, sensing the impending disaster, quickly pulled me in front of Ewing, trying desperately to salvage the situation, to protect the last shreds of my dignity. “Ewing, man, you’re just messing with her, right? Trying to scare her a little before the big surprise? That’s a risky move, dude. Not the best way to win a girl’s heart.” Ewing’s gaze fell on me again, truly looking this time. I met his eyes, a desperate hope fluttering in my chest. A slow, dismissive smile curved his lips. “You guys, stop playing around. I may have never seen Tina, but I’ve painted a picture of her in my mind a thousand times. And my Tina… she could never be ugly.” 3 Such a casual, dismissive sentence. To him, this was all just a joke. There wasn’t even a trace of anger on his face, only amused certainty. He was utterly convinced that the woman he’d loved for five years, the woman he was about to marry, had to be beautiful. And that woman, he was sure, could not possibly be me. Under the worried gazes of his friends and Sophia, the loving words I’d prepared dissolved into a lump in my throat. I forced a small, brittle smile. “You’re a sharp one, Mr. Pence,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “Of course, I couldn’t possibly be Tina.” Sophia started to protest, to explain, but I squeezed her wrist, silencing her. The smile stayed plastered on my face until the heavy hospital door clicked shut behind me. Only then did it shatter. From the hallway, I could hear their voices, the murmur of conversation. I could even make out Ewing’s incredulous tone. “Seriously, guys, stop messing with me. She’s not Tina? Then… did my Tina not come to see me today?” I sank to the floor in the empty corridor, my body curling into itself. I should have known. I should have seen this coming all along. 4 I’d never really been in a relationship before. Ewing was my first true boyfriend. My looks had always made me a target, a joke. I still remember the day he asked me to be his girlfriend. He was holding my hand, his thumb gently tracing circles on my skin. In front of all his friends, his unseeing eyes were fixed on me. They said a blind person’s gaze was empty, but in Ewing’s, I could have sworn I saw a universe of devotion. That, combined with his striking features, was intoxicating. “It doesn’t matter what you look like,” he’d said, his voice a low promise. “I would know you anywhere, Tina. You feel… different from anyone else.” His friends, who knew his history, weren’t so sure. One of them had quietly pulled me aside once. “Ewing’s always been about looks, Tina. If he ever gets his sight back, you should…” He trailed off, but the warning was clear. Everyone thought he was only with me because he couldn’t see me. But Ewing seemed determined to prove them wrong. He appeared to love me so deeply. Once, as a prank, his friends had another woman take his hand when I wasn’t there. He’d recoiled instantly, his face twisting in anger. I heard he’d lost it, smashing a glass table and screaming at them. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again! Tina is one of a kind. She’s everything to me.” After that, his friends all apologized to me, changing their tune. “Man, even his ex showing up now wouldn’t stand a chance. He’s completely head-over-heels for you. He’s genuinely in love.” Only one of them, a man named Liam, never bought it. Every time he saw me, he’d give the same quiet advice. “Don’t waste your time on him, Tina. What he feels now isn’t real.” Liam had grown up with Ewing in the same wealthy enclave. They were close, with similar temperaments, though everyone said Liam had a shorter fuse. He was brutally honest, a trait that had apparently scared off every woman his family had ever tried to set him up with. But over the years, I’d learned he was a classic case of all bark and no bite. When the news came that Ewing’s surgery was a success, everyone else tried to hide it from me, to “manage” the situation. It was Liam who had driven straight to my apartment and brought me to the hospital. But it turned out he was right all along. Ewing’s love wasn’t for me. It was for a fantasy, a beautiful ghost he had named Tina. 5 As I left the hospital, Liam fell into step beside me. He looked like he wanted to say something comforting but couldn’t find the words, just awkwardly hovering near me. For five years, Ewing’s friends had been polite to me, but I always knew it was a performance. If Ewing hadn’t needed me, they wouldn’t have given me the time of day. We were from different worlds, our lives intersecting only by circumstance. Now that the circumstance was gone, it was only natural for our paths to diverge. A sleek, stiletto-heeled figure breezed past us before stopping short in front of Liam. “I hear Ewing can see again,” she said, her voice dripping with arrogance. The impeccably dressed woman clearly knew Liam. He shot her a sideways glance, his expression screaming, ‘Not interested.’ Losing patience, she ignored him and strode toward the hospital entrance. Liam muttered under his breath, “Disappears for five years without a single visit. The second she hears he can see, she materializes. You don’t need to be a genius to figure out what that’s about.” He glanced at me, watching for my reaction. When I just managed a weak, bitter smile, he seemed about to press his point. But I spoke first. “He’ll take her back.” My words stopped him cold. I looked at him, forcing another smile. “Don’t you think?” Liam never lied to me. He just nodded. 6 A week passed. A week of absolute silence from Ewing. Then, I saw it online: a video of him at a gala with the woman from the hospital. Under the flash of cameras, they were the picture-perfect couple, her hand tucked possessively in the crook of his arm. The only odd thing was Ewing’s expression. The man who had always smiled for me now wore a stony, unreadable mask. The internet was buzzing about the reclusive Pence heir’s sudden return to the public eye. A notification popped up at the top of my screen, obscuring Ewing’s face. It was from Liam. Library? I was applying for grad school. When Liam found out, he’d volunteered to be my tutor. I knew what he was really doing—gently guiding me back to my own life. I’d spent so many years wrapped up in Ewing’s world, even taking a year off from college to help him navigate his darkness. On my way, I typed back. As I closed the app, a call history notification caught my eye. A number so familiar it was burned into my memory. In the beginning, Ewing, bored and lonely, must have gotten my number from somewhere. He’d call me from morning till night, not to say anything important, just to whine like a child until I brought him a caramel apple from the stand near campus. This time, however, his voice wasn’t playful. It was heavy, serious in a way I’d never heard before. “Tina,” he said, his breathing ragged on the other end. “I miss you.” I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. It took a moment to steady my voice. “Ewing,” I whispered, “let’s break up.” His heavy breathing filled the silence. We used to stay on the phone all night, talking until we both drifted off, neither wanting to be the first to hang up. Five years of intense, all-consuming love. Even now, as I ended it, he didn’t ask to see me. A cold certainty settled in my stomach. Deep down, he already knew. He knew the “ugly” girl from the hospital was the real Tina. He said nothing more. The silence stretched on, chilling my fingers and making my legs ache. I finally pulled the phone away from my ear. The call had been disconnected for who knows how long. 7 I hailed a cab and headed for the city library. Love might be gone, but I couldn’t let my future slip away too. Liam had scheduled our session for the afternoon, but when I arrived early, I found him already there, sitting in our usual corner spot. He waved me over. As I sat down, he pushed a warm bottle of coffee across the table toward me. “You’re early,” I said, shrugging off my coat and scarf. I watched as he methodically laid out his notes and textbooks, covering the empty table. “Figured you might be crying somewhere and needed a place to go.” He tapped a section in a textbook with his pen, a passage he’d already highlighted and annotated. “Start with this.” The page was covered in his neat, red-ink notes and detailed diagrams. “I broke up with Ewing,” I said flatly, copying his notes into my own notebook. Liam paused. Ewing always said Liam was the biggest chatterbox in their group, but with me, he was usually quiet, a listener to my endless monologues. “He won’t agree,” Liam said. “It’s just a matter of time,” I replied, my pen stopping. My nose started to burn again. “He’s just lying to himself right now. He can’t avoid me forever. The moment he truly accepts that the Tina in his head is… me… this plain, ugly girl… not the perfect fantasy he created… he’ll let go.” “You’re not ugly.” The words hung in the air between us. We both looked up at the same time. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, his lips pressed into a thin line, the corner of his eye twitching. I saw a faint blush creep up the tips of his ears. He was trying so hard to look composed, but he repeated himself anyway. “Tina, you’re not ugly. Just because other people say it doesn’t mean you have to accept it. A person’s worth, whether they’re ugly or beautiful, isn’t just about their face. I hope you get that.” His gaze was intense, unwavering. I didn’t understand what he was trying to say. In the world I’d grown up in, being told you were ugly because your appearance wasn’t pleasing to others was a simple, unchangeable fact. It was a “fact” that had brought me nothing but pain. Because I was “ugly,” my teacher believed the popular girl who copied my test answers and punished me for cheating. Classmates called me shameless. My own parents told me I was an embarrassment. He was just trying to be nice, I figured. I gave a half-hearted smile and looked back down at my book. But a bitter complaint slipped out anyway. “You people who are good-looking will never get it. No one’s ever going to point a finger at you, Liam, and call you ugly.” I peeked up at him. He had turned his head, and all I could see was the sharp line of his jaw and his thick, fan-like eyelashes. I couldn’t read his expression. Just when I thought we’d spend the rest of the afternoon in silence, he ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, messing it up. He said my name, “Tina.” I looked up, startled, and met his burning gaze. He looked… exasperated. “I said you’re not ugly! God, you’re impossible. If you argue with me one more time, I swear I’m done tutoring you.” 8 Liam’s sudden outburst left me baffled. It was as if some long-dormant, irritable part of his personality had just burst forth. Thankfully, things returned to normal after that. By the time we left the library, the sky had bruised to a dark purple, pricked with a few early stars. As we walked, Liam took a call, and I watched his brow furrow deeper and deeper. When he hung up, he explained, “My grandfather collapsed during dinner. Angina. They’ve taken him to the hospital. It sounds serious. The family wants me there now.” I remembered his grandfather, a respected old general with a stern face but a kind, cheerful smile whenever he saw me. He was always in his dress uniform, the chest heavy with medals. Liam scanned the street, a river of red taillights and blaring horns. It was rush hour in the heart of the city. Driving to the hospital would take at least an hour. “The subway,” he said decisively. “We can make it in twenty minutes.” I was a little surprised. I never imagined a guy like Liam would willingly take public transit. Ewing had once told me that people in their circle had private drivers since they were kids and were gifted sports cars on their eighteenth birthdays. He’d looked genuinely pained when I told him I took the subway and bus everywhere, vowing that I’d never have to suffer like that again now that I was with him. For me, it was just… life. It wasn’t “suffering.” I watched Liam expertly tap his phone at the turnstile. I couldn’t help but ask. “Don’t you find this… embarrassing?” “Why would I?” he shot back instantly, looking at me with genuine confusion. “The city builds this incredible system for us. Shouldn’t we appreciate it and use it? Or is it that you look down on yourself for using it?” The double meaning hit me, reminding me of our argument in the library. He let out a short, scoffing laugh and turned to watch for the train. But his next words floated back to me, clear and sharp. “Tina. Dignity is something you earn for yourself. It’s not something other people give you with their words.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384477”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel