Author: Momo Chan

While I was in the labor room, awaiting delivery, I got a call from my husband. He sounded calm, almost detached, as he told me: “Chloe, I cheated on you.” “Let’s get a divorce now, before the baby is born.” “Scarlett is young; she can’t handle the gossip and rumors out there.” “I have to give her a proper status.” “And don’t even think about using the baby to tie me down.” “You should know better than anyone how painful it is for a child to be born unloved.” I looked at the photos he sent, then nodded, understanding. No screaming matches like before. I didn’t tell him that his beloved Scarlett was a party girl with AIDS. And Julian, having lived a reckless life for too long, probably wouldn’t last another month. Julian came to the hospital to deliver the divorce papers just after I’d given birth. Because of complications during delivery, I was barely clinging to life. He glanced at my pale face and frowned, almost imperceptibly. There was no trace of concern or tenderness in his eyes. Only irritation that I had dared to make my own decisions. “Didn’t I tell you that this child shouldn’t be born?” “Scarlett doesn’t like children competing for my attention.” I looked at the sleeping baby in my arms, forcing a weak, pale smile. “I couldn’t help it. Your call came too late.” “By the time you proposed to Scarlett, I was already on the operating table.” According to my original due date, the baby shouldn’t have been born that day. But Scarlett had scared me into premature labor by sending me a dead rat. During my time in the hospital, I called Julian countless times, but no one picked up. As I was being wheeled into the operating room, fireworks exploded outside the window. I looked closer. It was Julian, trying to make his new girlfriend happy, who had spent millions organizing a grand proposal. Roses paved the path, fireworks lit the sky. In the pitch-black sky, drones spelled out: “Scarlett, I love you.” It was amidst the celebratory spectacle that I gave birth to our child, struggling through a difficult labor. Critical condition notices were issued multiple times, my phone rang off the hook, but no one answered. In the end, I gritted my teeth and signed the surgical consent form myself. Coincidentally, he arrived just as the baby was born. Not out of concern, but to rush me into signing the divorce papers. To make me take the child and get out, making way for his new girlfriend. I sighed silently to myself. But I still forced a smile and took the divorce papers. When I stood up, I accidentally pulled at the wound on my stomach. Bright red blood instantly stained the gauze, but Julian’s frown only deepened. “Chloe, you don’t have to play the victim for me.” “I’m not someone who forgets old ties. I won’t shortchange you when it comes to money.” “Just sign the papers, and I’ll pay all the child support at once, ensuring you both have a decent life.” My hand, holding the pen, paused. I looked at Julian’s cold face, and surprisingly, I didn’t feel sad at all. Maybe I’d cried all my tears away. I remembered when I first discovered Julian’s infidelity; I’d cried my eyes out, even threatened to die. But he just looked at me, standing with one foot out the window, and said with an indifferent expression: “Chloe, stop crying. I haven’t had feelings for you for a long time.” “There was a time when your tears broke my heart.” “But now… they just disgust me.” That night, he walked away, urged on by Scarlett’s voice. Leaving me alone to cry myself unconscious. I cried for a very, very long time. And finally understood how ruthless a man whose heart has changed can be. Unwilling to give up, I resolved to go down fighting, and started digging up dirt on Scarlett. I wanted to keep fighting. I wanted people to see Julian’s ugly true colors. But the moment I saw Scarlett’s photo. All the hate, all the resentment, vanished like smoke. Because I recognized her immediately. The ‘pure and innocent moonlight’ in Julian’s eyes was an AIDS patient I had once treated. Julian has a congenital heart condition. If he contracted anything, he could die at any moment. In that instant, I felt a sense of release. Karma always catches up to heartless and ungrateful people. I just needed to give fate a little push at the right moment. So, I didn’t argue or make a scene. I continued to carry our child, being the polite and proper Mrs. Sterling. Then, I quietly waited for the day Julian would die.

Lost in thought, Julian was already getting impatient. He thought I was reluctant to leave, and tapped the table irritably. “Chloe, what are you dragging your feet for now?” “Do you think I’ll respect you more just because you gave birth?” “Let me tell you, I don’t love you, and I certainly won’t love the child you bore.” “If you don’t sign, I’ll file for divorce, and your child will suffer the same tragic life as you!” He was right, the person who knows you best can hurt you the most. When I was eighteen, my parents divorced. My father forced my mother to leave with nothing and publicly disowned me. He forbade me from bearing the Miller name, from inheriting his estate, from having any connection to him. Abandoned by my own father, I became the laughingstock of our social circle. An object of ridicule and isolation for everyone. At that time, only Julian was by my side. He tirelessly walked me to and from school. He stood in front of me when I was bullied. He told me when I was sad and helpless: “Chloe, you’re the best.” “Even if the whole world abandons you, I’ll always be with you.” “I love you, and I’ll work hard to give you a happy, complete home.” For Julian’s promise. I gave up my original career path to pursue medicine, solely to cure his illness. I risked my life, enduring with him through a tumultuous battle over inheritance. I abandoned my future and career, staying home to prepare for pregnancy and nurture our child. I thought that after enduring all the hardships, good fortune would finally come. Who would have thought that Julian, during my pregnancy, couldn’t resist loneliness and cheated with Scarlett. After I discovered it, Julian showed no guilt for cheating, no shame for his betrayal. He simply told me, his face calm: “I can’t help it, Chloe, I didn’t want this.” “But that day, when I saw the stretch marks on your stomach, I suddenly felt disgusted.” “I couldn’t feel any desire for you, but I’m still a man, and I needed an outlet.” “And Scarlett, she gave me a thrill and sensations I’d never experienced before.” “So, I owed her the respect and status she deserved.” The Sterling family had strict rules, and Julian was known for his self-discipline. He despised keeping mistresses or engaging in casual affairs. So, he simply came right out and asked for a divorce. At that time, I was newly pregnant. To get what I wanted. To personally witness Julian pay the price. I endured all the humiliation. Even when Julian openly took Scarlett to various events. Even when Julian publicly shamed me in front of all the media, calling me a clingy, worn-out wife. I endured it all. All for this very moment. I picked up the pen and decisively signed my name on the divorce papers. Just then, Scarlett’s phone call came in, her sweet, simpering voice urging Julian: “Julian, are you done yet?” “I’ve changed and I’m waiting for you.” “You’re not having second thoughts about the divorce because of the baby, are you?” “If so, I’m never talking to you again!” Looking at the provocative photos Scarlett sent, Julian’s breath hitched for a moment, and his voice deepened. His eyes sparkled with a smile, like he used to coax me, he carefully coaxed his current sweetheart. Then he swiftly snatched the divorce papers, slammed the door, and left. The sharp paper left a thin, bleeding scratch on my palm. The heavy slam of the door startled the baby into loud sobs. The doctor rushed over to see what was happening. And Julian, from start to finish, never once looked back at us. I sighed lightly, about to soothe the baby. The doctor suddenly grabbed my hand, urgent. “What happened to your hand? Did Julian do this?” “Come with me for a check-up, do you know he has…” Such a disease, he couldn’t bring himself to say. But I calmly looked up, a genuine smile on my face. “Julian’s health has always been my responsibility; of course, I know better than anyone.” I had already received Julian’s test results yesterday. The outcome was exactly as I had expected. AIDS, positive. His heart, lungs, and blood vessels were already infected. A common cold, a sneeze, even strenuous exercise. Any of these could claim Julian’s life at any moment. So, in the coming month. The closer he got to Scarlett, the closer he got to his own death.

During my few days in the hospital, Julian was celebrating with Scarlett around the world. He bought Scarlett mansions and diamond rings. Announcing to the world that Scarlett was the true Mrs. Sterling. Julian seemed to have rediscovered the excitement of youth, loving her with a passionate intensity. The two spent a fortune at a club, and exchanged vows of eternal love beneath the Eiffel Tower. As if they had long forgotten my existence. I couldn’t be bothered with their little theatrics, and quietly began my finishing touches. After my body had somewhat recovered, I took Max to the family estate. Whether I could inherit all the Sterling family’s assets. Whether I could establish a firm foothold in Sterling Corp. The most crucial thing was to win over the powerful Mr. Sterling. As soon as I entered the estate, I heard a fierce argument. Mr. Sterling hurled a teacup at Julian, shouting angrily: “You scoundrel!” “You caused a huge scene back then to be with that woman, and now, after such a short time, you’re causing another fuss for a divorce.” “You’ve completely ruined the Sterling family’s reputation for generations!” Julian pressed his lips together, silent, only stubbornly shielding Scarlett behind him. That stubborn look made me momentarily disoriented. Years ago, he had knelt before Mr. Sterling in the same way, asking to marry me. As the only son of the Sterling family, the family had already arranged a more suitable marriage alliance for him. But Julian refused outright, dead-set on being with me. Back then, he had knelt before Mr. Sterling, as stubborn as he was now. He knelt until everyone in the Sterling household softened. So many years had passed, and Julian hadn’t changed at all. The only difference was that the woman standing by his side, the woman in his heart. Was no longer me. I was hesitating whether to step forward. Suddenly, the baby in my arms began to cry loudly. Hearing the commotion, Julian turned his head. But he made no move to help. He watched me, helpless, trying to soothe the baby, his eyes full of annoyance that I had disturbed him. In the end, Martha, the nanny, couldn’t stand it anymore and took the baby from me. Seeing his grandson, Mr. Sterling’s expression still didn’t soften. With a grim face, he threw a photo in front of me. “How you argue, how you make a scene, I don’t care.” “Just one thing: you absolutely cannot affect the Sterling family’s reputation or the company’s stock price.” “Explain this photo to me!” The photo Mr. Sterling threw down was a screenshot from Scarlett’s live stream. As an influencer, Scarlett never missed an opportunity to show off her wealth or her relationship. Yesterday, during her live stream, someone spotted a box of special medication for AIDS on her vanity table. Although it was just a small screenshot, it still caused quite a stir. Sterling Corp.’s PR team did their best to suppress the issue, but it still reached Mr. Sterling’s ears. I looked at Julian’s grim face, and quietly stepped forward to intercede. “It’s a misunderstanding. This is a new drug our team is developing.” “I’ll explain everything to the media; it won’t affect the Sterling family’s reputation.” Seeing me resolve the situation so thoughtfully, Mr. Sterling nodded in satisfaction. He gave Julian a meaningful look. Then, he took out a gold locket and hung it around Max’s neck. “Chloe, don’t worry.” “You bore the Sterling family’s firstborn grandson; the Sterling family will never mistreat you.” “If Julian dares to act up again, come to me, and I’ll sort it out for you.” “I’ll teach that insolent brat a good lesson!” I no longer needed anyone to stand up for me. When Julian and I were at our worst. Everyone, from the Sterling household to our former friends, sided with him. Some criticized my flaws, others accused me of not being generous enough. Julian, even more arrogantly, told me: “Chloe, you’re just an outcast, abandoned by your own family. What right do you have to argue with me?” “With one word, I could decide your honor or disgrace.” It was from that moment that I understood. Love and affection in this world are all fake. Only power and money in your hands are real. I finally managed to appease Mr. Sterling. As I was getting ready to go home, before I even reached the street corner, Julian slapped me.

The slap was hard, with no restraint, full of force. My face instantly swelled up. Julian’s expression hadn’t softened one bit. He looked at me coldly. His eyes, once full of tenderness, were now brimming with disgust. “Chloe, I truly underestimated your schemes.” “You pretend to agree to the divorce, but behind my back, you frame Scarlett and complain to my grandfather.” “Do you think this will win back my heart, that it will make me love you again?” “I’m telling you, dream on!” “I’m sick of looking at your face.” “Even if you stood naked in front of me, even if you died in front of me with the baby in your arms, it wouldn’t make me feel an ounce of sympathy!” Julian’s voice was loud, and his words were cruel. It drew a crowd of onlookers. As if to deliberately humiliate me. He slammed the car door and sped away. A moment later, my phone pinged with a message. Julian had frozen all my bank accounts, leaving me with nothing to walk home. Seeing me turn back, Martha looked distressed. “Mr. Sterling is asleep, we shouldn’t disturb him.” “Sir asked me to tell you to take this opportunity to reflect.” “If you try any more tricks, you won’t get a penny after the divorce.” See? Relying on others is always unreliable. Fortunately, I had long since seen through these people and had no expectations left. I held Max and walked forward without looking back. A one-hour walk, for me, still recovering from childbirth. Every step was excruciating pain. By the time I reached the villa, I was drenched in sweat. In so much pain, I could barely breathe. The housekeepers, seeing my state, rushed to help me, but kept hesitating to speak. Curious, I looked up and saw my belongings scattered everywhere. My wedding photos with Julian. Long-cherished medical reports and ancient medical texts. And all the small items that held memories of our past. Some were crossed out with a huge lipstick ‘X’. Others were soaked in dirty water, giving off a foul stench. Immediately after, I heard Scarlett’s faint, coy moans. “Julian, you’re so naughty, you tore my clothes again.” “How are you going to make it up to me this time?” His deep voice, brimming with desire and affection: “Good girl, how about I transfer the title of this villa to you?” “We can plant your favorite flowers in the garden together, decorate the nursery together.” “I’ll give you everything you want…” I was already used to it. But hearing those words, I still couldn’t help my eyes welling up a little. Because Julian had once said these very things to me. Back then, he swore to the heavens that he would give me and our child the best life possible. But now, he’d pulled out the flowers I’d planted, thrown away our wedding photos. He wouldn’t even spare a glance for our child. The coldness and fickle nature of the human heart. I had experienced it to the extreme. After a brief moment of thought, I wiped away my tears and walked out with Max. The housekeeper, worried, hurried after me. “Madam, it’s so late, where are you going alone?” “There are still so many things here, are you just leaving them?” I took a deep breath, speaking with firm restraint. “No, I don’t want them.” A tainted man and a tainted past. I didn’t want either. I warned the housekeeper not to touch anything Julian or Scarlett had come into contact with. I told her to make sure everything was thoroughly disinfected. Martha nodded frantically, and fearing I had nowhere to go, even forced a few hundred dollars into my hand for a hotel. “Madam, Sir still cares about you.” “You… just wait for him to get tired of playing around, settle down, and he’ll come back to you.” He won’t be back. Because Julian won’t live that long. Sure enough, that very night. Julian started spitting blood uncontrollably in Scarlett’s bed and was rushed to the hospital.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350236”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic

My husband, Dax, had a nasty temper. He was constantly belittling me, making me feel worthless. My best friend, Chloe, kept pushing me to divorce him, and I actually listened to her. I divorced him decisively, even agreeing to leave with practically nothing but Leo. I never imagined that after the divorce, I wouldn’t be able to afford our family expenses. By the time I swallowed my pride and went back to him, begging for help, I found out he’d married Chloe. Chloe had him wrapped around her little finger, happy as a clam, and all his money was flowing straight into her accounts. That’s when it hit me: Chloe had been after Dax all along, subtly poisoning our relationship. The betrayal shattered me. I was so heartbroken, I ended up in a car accident. The next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes again, and it was that exact moment when Chloe was first trying to convince me to divorce Dax. I blocked her on SnapChat without a second thought. Then, I turned to Dax, who was busy criticizing my outfit, calling it ugly and my taste terrible, and I plastered a sweet smile on my face. “Darling,” I said, “I’ll change immediately. Whatever you say.”

It had been two years of marriage, and this was the first time I’d ever given Dax a pleasant look during an argument. He actually looked stunned for a moment. While he was still blinking, I’d already swapped my T-shirt and jeans for a slip dress and walked out of the closet. Dax’s expression softened, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. “That’s better. Next time, don’t wear such ugly clothes. They don’t suit your vibe.” Seriously, who dresses up like that just to chill at home? But Dax liked to see me that way. If things weren’t exactly his way, his words would turn sharp and cutting, laced with sarcasm. I used to not understand it. We were both successful actors, we fell in love and chose to get married… why did getting a marriage license suddenly make me less than him, like I was beneath him? I always resented it. So, every time he criticized my clothes, I’d fight him tooth and nail. Once, twice, three times. Dax would get so furious his face turned purple, and I’d feel terrible too. Afterward, I’d vent to my best friend, Chloe, and she’d immediately tell me to divorce him. “Honestly, Cassie,” she’d say, “it’s all about equality these days. What kind of guy still acts like such a tyrant at home?” “Everyone treats their wife like a princess, terrified of hurting her or making her sad, right?” “It’s just your Dax, thinking he’s hot stuff because he gives the family a little money every month, acting like a big shot all the time.” “It’s one thing if you put up with him, but your parents have to put up with him too? That’s just too much.” “If I were you, I’d divorce him. There are plenty of other fish in the sea, girl. Dump him and find yourself a sweet, devoted younger guy. Watch him fume.” Though I was angry, I still hesitated. “But… but I’ve been out of the industry for so long, and Leo’s only one. What if I divorce now and can’t find work?” Chloe cut me off. “How could that happen? Your acting skills are just as good as his, if not better!” “Besides, I’m still in the industry. Worst case, I’ll introduce you to a few projects. We’re not going to believe we can’t make it without him, are we?” Despite her words, I actually wasn’t keen on divorcing. Once I calmed down, Dax and I argued and went back and forth for quite a while. That is, until Dax went off to film in a remote, isolated location for three months. While he was gone, a severe flu strain swept through our house, infecting everyone, from my parents to little Leo. I got pretty sick too, with a fever reaching 102 degrees Fahrenheit. I called Dax, but he was incredibly busy. After only two sentences, he exploded, yelling, “Cassie! You’re in your twenties, can’t you go to the hospital? Can’t you hire a nurse? What do you think I give you money for?” “I’m in the middle of nowhere, miles away from civilization, and I can’t just drop everything and come back. Why are you calling me non-stop? Isn’t there enough chaos already?” Listening to the chaotic sounds of crying and coughing echoing from the living room, I felt wronged and scared. I choked out, “Dax, I just wanted you to comfort me a little.” “I don’t have time!” Dax took a deep breath. It sounded like the director was rushing him. He controlled his anger, saying, “You figure it out yourself, damn it. The crew, hundreds of people, have been waiting for this snow scene for ages. I have to go shoot.” “Don’t call me these next couple of days. I’ll message you when I’m done.” With that, he hung up and blocked my number. I stared at the glaring red exclamation mark, my heart aching with shock and pain. Just then, Chloe called. After hearing what happened, she helped me get my parents and Leo to the hospital. After everything was settled, she sighed repeatedly as she looked at me. “See? I told you Dax was useless, didn’t I? Besides giving you some money, what else can he do?” I was speechless, unable to utter a word. Chloe then sent me a dozen videos about how men in marriage are unreliable, how it’s better to live alone, and how if a man isn’t there when you need him most, it makes no difference whether he’s around or not. Watching those videos, I truly started to consider divorcing Dax. But I never realized Chloe had ulterior motives. I also failed to grasp that even after getting married, Dax had always provided for me financially. Leaving him meant losing the three hundred thousand dollars in living expenses every month. This ‘useless’ thing she talked about was what allowed me to live comfortably without a care, ensuring my parents and Leo were happy and well-provided for. So, when I opened my eyes again, Dax’s nature in my mind had changed. He wasn’t my husband anymore; he was my personal ATM, my sugar daddy. Even dealing with a boss means sucking up and taking some crap sometimes, right? So what if my sugar daddy yelled at me a bit? Understanding this, I immediately forced a smile. Looking at Dax, I said, “Darling, you must be tired. Shall I run a bath for you?” He nodded, not speaking.

In the bathroom, I drew a large bath for Dax, even thoughtfully testing the water temperature with Leo’s rubber duck. When Dax walked in, he was still watching my back. “Cassie.” “Hmm?” “Are you still mad at me? I explained it already. Hanging up on you and blocking you that day was an emergency. You’ve been on set too, you know how much pressure it is when hundreds of people are waiting for you to start work.” “We specifically traveled to that remote mountain location just to wait for that heavy snow. If we didn’t get the shot right, who knows when we’d get another chance? The entire production would be delayed, and I couldn’t bear that responsibility.” “You’re in this industry too. You should understand.” He spoke with a stern face, his voice urgent. As he continued, his temper began to flare again. In the past, I would have stood there, hands on my hips, arguing back. Work is important, but weren’t his wife and child important too? My parents and Leo were all in the hospital; what was wrong with me making a worried call? But now I understood: Dax was a straightforward guy, almost simplistic. Like all men, he married to simplify his life, not to create problems. When hormones were raging during our courtship, he indulged and pampered me. But once married, he wanted comfort, freedom, and the effortless warmth of a home. I walked over, hooked my arms around his neck, and nuzzled him like a kitten. “Okay, I get it. Calling you that day was my fault. I shouldn’t have been so anxious and failed to consider your situation.” “You’ve been suffering in the mountains for two months; you deserve a good rest. Just soak in the bath for now. We can talk about anything else after you’ve relaxed, okay?” I stroked his cheek and noticed that when I played along with him, when I stroked his ego just right, Dax didn’t get angry. He let out a long sigh, unusually good-tempered. “Cassie, if only you were always this understanding.”

I knew why Dax looked that way. I was eight years younger than him, and when I married him, I still had a childlike mentality. During our courtship, he catered to my every whim, spoiling me rotten. After I got pregnant, my parents came to live with us, and since I was their only child, they listened to my every word, pampering me like a delicate princess. So, Dax often told me he felt like he’d married a daughter, not a wife. I thought this was a sign of his love, until I saw him with Chloe. To please him, Chloe was so docile that she’d even kneel to tie his shoelaces when they came undone. Dax’s heart just melted. “You don’t have to do that. I can do it myself.” Chloe just smiled. “It’s okay, I want to treat you well. You put up with a lot when you were with Cassie. Now let me love you and spoil you like a child.” Her words, seemingly soft, carried immense weight, subtly manipulating him. Dax’s expression shifted, and he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, darling. I never knew what love was until I met you.” “Come on, let’s go to the mall. I’ll buy you an LV bag.” Chloe demurred, “Why waste the money? You work so hard to earn it.” But she didn’t object, instead kissing Dax. I watched them like a creep, hand in hand, shopping. Dax bought Chloe a ton of things. Unlike his frequent outbursts with me, he was always calm and peaceful with Chloe. If he occasionally spoke too sharply, Chloe would gently pat his chest. “Darling, just take your time. Your loud voice scares me.” She had him completely under her thumb. Watching Chloe, that masterful manipulator, it suddenly hit me. I had been too naive, too childish. Dax was genuinely an excellent catch. An orphan, incredibly handsome, and he held a significant position in the entertainment industry. I was lucky to have found someone like him. After we got married, he even moved my parents into the spacious home he’d bought. He was often away, filming for months at a time, but my parents, Leo, and I lived a comfortable, dignified life, sustained by the three hundred thousand dollars he transferred monthly. Besides a fixed allowance, he’d sometimes buy me diamond necklaces and designer bags. At the end of the year, he’d transfer another hundred or two hundred thousand dollars to my parents. His major income wasn’t squandered either; besides investing in real estate, he’d also set up an education fund for Leo. Such a good man, just with a bit of a bad temper. Why did I have to be so stubborn and fight him? I felt like smacking myself silly. My naivety had jeopardized my entire life, and that of my parents and Leo. This time, I would learn from Chloe. I needed to play the gentle card. I refused to believe I couldn’t make this work.

The next afternoon, Dax was still asleep. My parents, as usual, kept the food warm, waiting for him to wake up. I had just put Leo down for his nap and eaten a couple of dumplings. Mom walked over and nudged my elbow. “Oh, Cassie, why are you so well-behaved today? No yelling at Dax for sleeping in?” After all, I used to be much less patient. If Dax wasn’t up by ten, I’d storm in and rip the covers off, complaining that he didn’t eat with the family and didn’t respect my parents. This time, I just smiled at Mom. “He’s tired from filming. Let him sleep. I’m a mother now; I can’t keep acting so immature.” “Oh, Robert, come listen! Our daughter says she’s being sensible now!” Mom chuckled, going to tease Dad about me. Watching them huddle together, a wave of sadness washed over me, a bitter ache in my chest. In my previous life, I had insisted on divorcing, and with barely any money, they had to find jobs in their old age just to maintain our previous standard of living. I didn’t know how they’d managed after I died. And Leo, barely a year old, had lost his mom. My heart was heavy with pain and regret, my eyes starting to well up. Dax opened the door, coincidentally catching sight of me. His heart inexplicably twitched. He walked over. “What’s wrong? Who upset you?” I immediately snapped back to reality, shaking my head at him. “Nothing. I just feel so happy with our life right now.” Dax was surprised by my words, looking a bit stunned again. After freshening up, he sat at the head of the table. I served him a plate of food and then a bowl of soup. “Mom simmered this all morning. Try it.” Dax took a sip, his face stern as he commented, “Hmm, it’s a bit too strong. Don’t put ginger in next time.” Mom gave an awkward laugh. “The pork stomach will be too fishy without ginger.” “Then try another method. Anyway, I don’t like it. The most important thing is to find a solution. People cook abroad without ginger, and their food’s perfectly edible. Use your brains a bit, stop sticking to old methods.” He reverted to that domineering tone, and I felt the familiar spark of anger ignite within me. I struggled to suppress the urge to snap back, took a deep breath, and said, “Then we’ll try a different recipe next time. Is there anything else you don’t like? This fish is pretty good.” With that, I put a piece of fish on Dax’s plate. Throughout the meal, everyone except Dax ate a bit cautiously. After clearing the table, he was off to a work meeting, grabbing his phone on the way out. “Cassie, I transferred you half a million dollars. Use it to buy some things for your parents.” “Director Miller has a script he wants to go over with me. I probably won’t be home until very late tonight.” He’d just gotten home last night, and today he was leaving again. He was always coming and going, barely seeing our son. I originally wanted him to leave a little later, to say goodbye to Leo, so Leo wouldn’t forget what he looked like. But then I reconsidered. No, my sugar daddy’s main job is making money.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350235”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

The moment my husband Liam entered me, the lubricated passage didn’t bring the expected pleasure. Instead, it was a searing, burning pain. I panicked, trying to get up. Suddenly a figure crawled out from under the bed—it was Liam’s female friend, Chloe. “Bro, you actually did it! That’s my bestie!” I stared at them in disbelief. Chloe waggled a bottle of mustard at me. “Liam lost a dare, he had to swap the lube for mustard. You’re not mad about it, are you?” Liam tilted his head slightly, a smug smirk plastered across his face. “Don’t worry, she can take it. She practically begged me to trap myself in this marriage, so she needs to be a little more understanding.” I was in too much pain to straighten up. Fine. If this is a cage, I’ll smash it to pieces. I hailed a cab to the hospital, not looking back. Behind me, I could still hear the mingled jeers and laughter of men and women. Liam, I’ve truly had enough this time. I clenched my jaw, enduring the searing pain ‘down there’ as I checked in, desperate not to let anyone notice anything wrong. Sweat dripped from my forehead. But when I reached the OB/GYN waiting room, there was already a long line. “Excuse me, how much longer will it be?” The older nurse shot me an impatient glare. “What’s the hurry? You were having such a blast doing it, weren’t you? Now you can’t even wait a minute?” I leaned against the wall, my pale face reflected in the window. I wanted to curse, but I didn’t even have the strength to speak. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Liam. I thought back; he hadn’t messaged me in almost half a year. My hands trembled as I unlocked my phone. He sent me a business card for a gynecologist. My traitorous heart skipped a beat. I hastily contacted the doctor he recommended. “You must be Aubrey, right?” He helped me onto the cold examination bed. “Relax, just take off your pants.” The room was vast, so vast it made me anxious. I forced myself to ask. “Is there a female doctor available?” I couldn’t read his expression behind the mask. But I had a vague, unsettling feeling that he wasn’t exactly friendly. “To a doctor, there’s no difference between men and women, it’s all just flesh. What’s the big deal?” “Liam always said you were a handful. Guess he wasn’t kidding.” I bit down hard on my lower lip, until the metallic taste of blood in my mouth snapped me back to reality. Following his instruction, I lay naked on the machine. Suddenly. A burst of laughter echoed from above. My shame reached its peak at that moment. “What’s so funny?!” I screamed it. “So, things aren’t exactly harmonious in your bedroom with Liam, huh?” “So desperate for ‘fun’ you’re using mustard to spice things up? ” “No wonder Liam dragged us to Chloe’s place on your wedding night. Honestly, you’re pretty loose ‘down there.’ I know a great doctor who does tightening procedures, want me to send you their number?” My brain exploded in a buzzing haze. “Liam was with Chloe on our wedding night?” But on our wedding night, the next morning, I woke up to Liam sitting neatly beside my bed, looking at me so tenderly. He pulled a jeweled necklace from his pocket. And with such deep affection, he placed it around my neck. “That ring you lost yesterday wasn’t good enough for you. I bought this overseas at an auction overnight. Only the most dazzling gem in the world is worthy of my Aubrey.” I was utterly moved. “Everyone always knew Liam and Chloe were meant to be. You’re the one who got in the way.” Whether it was revenge or unintentional, I couldn’t tell. The spray of medicine on my intimate area sent a searing, gut-wrenching pain through me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, splashing onto the floor. When I got home, clutching the medicine, Chloe was perched on Liam’s lap, taking bites directly from whatever he was eating. I stormed over, grabbed Chloe by her hair, and with all my strength, slapped her twice. Chloe’s cheeks swelled up grotesquely, making her look ridiculous. But I still didn’t feel satisfied. Before I could even raise my hand again, Liam kicked me across the room. “Enough!” His eyes burned with pure disgust and revulsion as he looked at me. “Aubrey, what the hell is wrong with you?!” “Chloe already explained, it was just a dare.”

Liam carefully helped Chloe up, cradling her protectively, trying to soothe her. I lay slumped against the wall, my lower back throbbing where my sharp heel had dug into it. Pain spread through my entire body. I still gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand. “What do you mean, ‘just a dare’?” “Then tell her to take off her pants, and let me put some mustard on her too!” Chloe, who always prided herself on being ‘one of the guys,’ was now crying hysterically. “Liam, your wife is trying to take my pants off! Aren’t you going to do anything?” “Why does she always misunderstand us? How am I ever going to get married now?” Liam gently wiped away her tears, his expression filled with heartache. Hearing her talk about getting married, I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s easy! Just move in with her son, and you two can be a happy family!” Before I could even finish, Liam exploded in a fit of rage. His eyes looked like he wanted to devour me whole. “How many times do I have to tell you, we’re just friends! Control your filthy mouth and stop spreading dirty rumors about Chloe!” I was about to expose their wedding night rendezvous. But Liam, panicked, scooped Chloe up and rushed out. “A girl’s skin is so delicate, we need to get her to the hospital immediately.” He didn’t forget to threaten me on his way out. “If anything happens to Chloe’s face, you’re dead, Aubrey.” Chloe, nestled in his arms, smirked at me provocatively. Watching Liam stride away, practically sprinting, I pulled at the corner of my mouth. The difference between love and not-love was quite stark. I packed my things, realizing I only had one small suitcase. The house was cluttered with countless items. All things I’d bought for Liam. I wanted him to see them and think of me. My parents had set me up on a blind date with an old man. When I arrived and saw the 300-pound old man, I knew I had to run. Liam was leaning against his motorcycle, smoking. “Please, take me away.” In the distance, I could already see my parents chasing after me. I could only place all my hope in him. Liam looked at me, then at my parents, who were speeding toward us. He raised an eyebrow. “Get in.” That day, he drove me through half the city. I secretly made a vow to myself. I wanted a home of my own. I saw Liam again when my parents cornered me outside my office. “Look at yourself! A man wants you, you should be grateful, not picky!” On the verge of breaking down, I pressed a knife to my throat. “Take one more step, and I swear I’ll die right here.” My mom’s tone finally softened. “Aubrey, darling, what kind of woman doesn’t get married and have children?” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Liam pushed through the crowd, pulled a card from his pocket, and tossed it at their faces. “The PIN is 484848.” “Consider yourselves punished – go home and try for eight boys. If you can’t, I’ll freeze this card.” He appeared in my life like a knight in shining armor. “I really like your personality. Don’t ever change.” No one had ever told me they liked my personality before. I was almost like a hedgehog, all my defenses on full display. Our home was filled with all sorts of musical instruments. He bought them to teach me. Back then, we talked about everything, from the stars in the sky to the most trivial everyday things. He was always eager to share with me. But when did it change? It changed the moment Chloe appeared at our wedding. When he placed the ring on my finger, his gaze drifted for a split second. I asked him. “Who is that woman?”

Liam gently rubbed the top of my head. “Just a friend, don’t overthink it.” I had never been in love before, never really had close friends outside of a small circle. So, I believed him. And he completely, utterly betrayed me. I reined in my thoughts and placed the divorce papers on the table. Dragging my suitcase, I walked out the door. Slap. The moment I pushed the door open, my dad’s hand connected sharply with my face. I was completely stunned. I stumbled back two steps before I could regain my balance. Before anger could even register. My dad flung a stack of photos right at my face. “Have you no shame?!” “If you’re so itchy ‘down there,’ go scrub yourself with a steel wool pad! Mustard? You’ve completely shamed us!” Those photos were of my intimate area, taken at the hospital today. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. My mind went blank. “I…” My mom crumpled to her knees at my feet, sobbing. “With a shameless daughter like you, who has no self-respect, how do you expect your sister to ever find a husband?” “What will people think of us now?” She looked insane, thrusting a bottle into my hand. “Just drink it.” I looked down. It was a bottle of Paraquat. My hand shook, and the bottle rolled down the stairs. I looked at my parents, who seemed to want to kill me at that moment. I started laughing, then suddenly cried. “Are you two really my biological parents?” My question stunned them for a moment. My dad was the first to react, his face turning beet red with fury. “You’ve done this to yourself, and you still have the nerve to ask if we’re your real parents?” “Now the photos are all over the internet, everyone has seen them! Liam is definitely going to divorce you, and we can’t bear this disgrace!” “If you don’t drink this today, we’ll force it down your throat!” All over the internet. When those words flashed in my mind, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. A million tiny ants were gnawing at my heart. Liam. That doctor was recommended by Liam, and they knew each other. So, the photos were Liam’s punishment. Because I hit Chloe. My mom, hunched over, picked up the bottle, her trembling hand placing it back in mine. She cried. “Drink it, Aubrey. It’s for your own good.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350234”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My dad was in the ICU, kept alive by a ventilator. Through the viewing window, I watched Nurse Tiffany pull out my dad’s breathing tube, lift her phone, and flash a triumphant grin at his face. I burst in like a maniac, but she calmly reinserted the tube, smiling sweetly yet maliciously at me. “He’s dying anyway. Why not make a contribution?” I called the police and went to President Thompson, but the entire hospital hailed her as a hero dedicated to saving lives. I, they said, was an ungrateful lunatic. Until I crashed her awards ceremony, slamming a piece of evidence onto the projector screen. “Beep—beep—beep—” In the ICU, the cold beeping of the machines echoed like a grim prophecy, each sound hammering at my chest. My dad lay on the hospital bed, tubes running in and out of him. The only sign he was still alive was the faint, fluctuating line on the monitor. I only got half an hour of visiting time each day. Through the thick glass, I stared at my dad’s face, greedy for every moment, praying for a miracle. Today, a young nurse named Tiffany was assigned to my dad’s room. She had a sweet look with two dimples, seemingly harmless. But just as I was about to leave, something out of the corner of my eye made my blood run cold. Tiffany approached my dad’s bed and grabbed the ventilator tube near his mouth. I thought she was performing routine care, and my heart tightened. But the next second, she pulled the tube out without hesitation. The heart rate and oxygen levels on the monitor plummeted instantly, triggering a piercing alarm. And she—she pulled out her phone, aimed it at my dad’s bluish-purple face and the plummeting numbers on the screen, then flashed a triumphant grin. “Click.” She took the photo. “What the hell are you doing?!” Like a crazed lioness, I burst through the ICU door and charged in. The doctors and nurses at the station jumped at my shout and all turned to look. Tiffany looked startled by my sudden entrance, but there wasn’t a trace of panic on her face. Unfazed, she calmly reinserted the breathing tube before I could reach the bedside. The alarm stopped, and my dad’s vitals slowly started to climb, but his face had grown even paler and more lifeless than before. My heart felt squeezed by an invisible fist, a pain so sharp I could barely catch my breath. “Why did you pull out my dad’s tube?!” I stared her down, my voice shaking with rage. Tiffany batted her big, innocent eyes, her sweet face showing a hint of wounded indignation. “Charlotte, you’ve got this all wrong. There was a mucus blockage in the patient’s tube—I was suctioning it. Standard procedure.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but loud enough for the colleagues gathering at the door to hear clearly. “Does standard procedure involve taking photos for Snapchat?!” I pointed at her phone, shaking with fury.

The innocence drained from Tiffany’s face instantly, replaced by a chilling mix of indifference and mockery. She stepped closer to me, and in a voice only we could hear, she chuckled, “He’s dying anyway. Why not make a contribution?” A contribution? What kind of contribution? Before I could fully process her words, she’d already put on a tearful expression, on the verge of crying, and started complaining to the doctor and head nurse who’d rushed in. “Dr. Miller, I was just trying to help by suctioning Mr. Hayes’s phlegm, but Charlotte burst in accusing me of deliberately pulling the tube to kill her father… and taking photos… I only wanted to document my work, to stay motivated…” She sobbed dramatically, shoulders shaking, like she’d been horribly wronged. The man called Dr. Miller immediately frowned and snapped at me, “Miss Hayes! Calm down! This is the ICU, not a place for tantrums! Tiffany’s one of our top nurses—she’s saving your father!” “Saving my father? I saw her pull that tube out and take a picture with my own eyes!” I pointed at Tiffany, ready to explode with rage. “Enough!” Dr. Miller cut me off sharply. “Your father’s condition is unstable. We get that families get emotional, but don’t be unreasonable and disrupt our work! Get out!” Two security guards “escorted” me out of the ICU. The glass door closed behind me, sealing off my world. I watched as Tiffany, comforted by Dr. Miller, wiped her tears and slipped back into her sweet, hardworking nurse act, bustling around the ward. And her colleagues—they looked at me with scorn, like I was some irrational lunatic. Overwhelming helplessness and rage washed over me. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 without hesitation. “I need to report a nurse at City General Hospital’s ICU for attempted patient homicide.” The operator on the other end sounded startled but professionally took down the information. A short time later, two police officers arrived. I thought my rescuers had arrived, but reality hit me hard again. Dr. Miller, the head nurse, and Tiffany “recounted” the incident to the police. Their stories lined up perfectly, all claiming Tiffany was performing necessary suctioning, and that I—stressed over my father’s critical condition—was hallucinating. “Officers, here’s our hospital surveillance footage—you can see for yourselves.” Dr. Miller pointed to the corner camera, calm and confident. The police reviewed the footage. But the camera was too far from the bed at an awkward angle. It only vaguely showed Tiffany working at the bedside—no clear view of her pulling the tube or taking photos. Instead, the footage clearly showed me bursting into the ICU like a maniac, yelling at Tiffany. Next to that, I looked like the troublemaker. “Ms. Hayes, based on our information, we can’t confirm any illegal activity by Nurse Tiffany.” The young officer looked at me apologetically. “The surveillance video doesn’t back up your claim.” “What about the photos on her phone! She took pictures!” I clung to this last hope. Tiffany immediately handed over her phone. Her photo gallery lit up the screen. There were a few work-related ICU photos, but no close-ups of my dad—certainly none with her triumphant grin. She must have deleted them. “Officers, I really just wanted to document our medical team’s daily work for Snapchat—spread some positivity… I never thought it would cause such a misunderstanding.” She hung her head, looking wronged. The police checked her phone, handed it back, then turned to me with sympathetic tones. “Ms. Hayes, we get how tough this is with your dad so sick, but we need evidence. Why don’t you go home and rest? We can talk again once you’ve calmed down.” And just like that, they left. Leaving me alone in the cold hallway, feeling like a clown putting on a show.

I went home, feeling lost and defeated, and collapsed onto the couch. Something about this whole thing felt off. What exactly did Tiffany mean by “Why not make a contribution?” And Dr. Miller and the whole department—why were they protecting her so fiercely? Just because she was good at her job? I didn’t buy it. Right then, my fiancé Daniel came home. He was a sales director at a medical equipment company—usually polished and caring, my rock. I clung to him like a lifeline, pouring out everything that had happened that day. “That’s outrageous! How could that nurse do something like that!” Daniel listened, clearly outraged, and hugged me, comforting me gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this. I know President Thompson at City General—met him through work. I’ll go see him tomorrow and make sure you get answers.” Leaning against him, the tension that had coiled in my chest all day finally loosened a little. It was good to have him on my side. The next day, Daniel kept his word and went to see President Thompson. When he came home that afternoon, his expression was serious. “How did it go?” I asked nervously. Daniel sighed and pulled me down to sit beside him. “I met with President Thompson and told him everything. The hospital took it seriously and did an internal investigation all day.” “And the result? What are they doing about Tiffany?” “The hospital investigation concluded it was… just a misunderstanding.” Daniel avoided my eyes. “They said Tiffany’s their top young nurse this year—impeccable skills and character. They don’t believe she could do something like that. They think you might have been stressed and misinterpreted what happened.” The news hit me like a bucket of cold water. “I didn’t misinterpret anything! I saw it with my own eyes!” I stood up, shaking. “Calm down.” Daniel pressed my shoulders. “President Thompson said they’ll reassign your dad’s nursing team and waive part of the ICU fees as a goodwill gesture.” “I don’t want their money! I want justice! I want Tiffany fired and apologizing!” “Honey!” Daniel’s voice sharpened. “Your dad is still in their care! We can’t burn bridges right now! What if they retaliate with his treatment? We can’t fight this.” His words cut like a knife, hitting exactly where I was most vulnerable. He was right—Dad was in their hands. I couldn’t take that risk. I caved in the end. Not for the lousy compensation, but for Dad. I swallowed my pride and accepted the hospital’s so-called “misunderstanding.” They assigned an older, seemingly reliable nurse to Dad. Tiffany never showed up in Dad’s room again. I thought that was the end of it. But I was being naive. A few days later, I was scrolling through Instagram when a friend who works in medical media reposted a blog article. The headline read: The Most Beautiful Frontline Worker: Facing Misunderstanding and Grief, She Chooses to Repay the World with Love. The story’s protagonist? None other than Tiffany. The article used overly dramatic language to “artistically reimagine” what had happened that day. In it, Tiffany was cast as a selfless angel in scrubs who held no grudges. And me? I was portrayed as a deranged family member, mentally unhinged by my father’s critical condition, who viciously attacked medical staff with no remorse. The comments section overflowed with praise for Tiffany and vitriol directed at me. “This family member is nuts! Attacking the person trying to save her dad!” “You go, Nurse Tiffany! Don’t let people like that get to you!” “Hospitals should ban unreasonable family members like her!” The worst part? Tiffany herself commented: “Thanks for all your support! I’ll keep doing my best. As for that family member, I get where she’s coming from—I don’t hold it against her.” Her sugary-sweet, holier-than-thou act made me sick to my stomach, even through the screen.

The article went viral, hitting over 100k views in no time. Tiffany became famous overnight. She was named Star Nurse at City General—even local TV wanted to interview her. And me? I was the villain in this online circus. What hurt most was that friends, coworkers, even distant relatives saw the article. They started hitting me up on Snapchat, subtly asking if I was the “difficult family member” in the article. Some told me to “be the bigger person,” others straight-up called me unreasonable. I couldn’t defend myself—there was no point. Daniel saw the article too. He showed me his phone,furrowed his brow. “What the hell? How could the hospital twist things like this?” I looked at him and laughed bitterly. “You told me to play nice, remember? This is what happens when I do.” “I…” Daniel stumbled over his words, then hugged me again. “I’m sorry, I failed you. Don’t worry, I’ll fix this. I’ll go to the media and blow the lid off this whole thing!” I didn’t say anything—I was just exhausted. The truth? Against their PR machine and all these lies, did my side of the story even stand a chance? Daniel said he’d help me contact the media, but days went by with nothing happening. Every time I asked, he’d say, “Soon, babe, I’m working on it.” Meanwhile, Tiffany’s star just kept rising. She started posting all these “inspirational” updates on her socials. One day it was her “volunteering” to cover a poor patient’s medical bills. The next day, it was her “late-night study session” reviewing nursing protocols—so “dedicated.” Her followers blew up, and she became this mini-celebrity overnight. One night, she posted a photo. It showed a brand-new Hermès Birkin bag with the caption: “A thoughtful gift from a grateful patient’s family. I feel so honored—this just motivates me to work even harder to earn this trust!” That bag made my blood boil. Since Dad got admitted to the ICU, I’d blown through over a million dollars—almost my entire life savings. I couldn’t even afford a nice bag for myself. And her? A regular nurse getting a designer bag worth six figures from a “patient’s family”? What kind of “family member” shells out that kind of cash? My gut screamed something was off. I started digging around quietly. I went to the hospital daily—not just to visit Dad. I watched the other families camped outside the ICU, just as desperate as me. I tried chatting them up, casually asking about Tiffany. Most brushed me off. Finally, an older woman—Mrs. Davies—started talking to me. Her husband had been in the ICU for two months after a car crash. I carefully brought up Tiffany, asking if she knew her. Mrs. Davies’s face tightened. She studied me warily. “Why do you ask about her?” “Oh, nothing—my dad was under her care before, and there was some… misunderstanding.” “Misunderstanding?” Mrs. Davies scoffed, yanking me to a quiet corner. She dropped her voice. “Listen, honey—that nurse is bad news.” My pulse raced.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350233”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

The year my younger brother was diagnosed with end-stage renal disease, I didn’t hesitate for a second—I gave him one of my kidneys. As his older sister, it felt like my responsibility to save him. The surgery was a success. Ryan bounced back, full of life, and became the family’s brightest hope. Meanwhile, my body deteriorated daily due to severe organ rejection. The costly anti-rejection meds quickly drained our family’s savings. My parents, initially so grateful, began looking at me differently. “Lily, can’t you skip a dose? We’re barely making ends meet.” “Ryan just started his new job and has plenty of expenses. As his sister, can’t you be more understanding?” “Lily, would you quit bringing up that kidney? I told you I’d pay you back once I’m earning!” Yesterday was Ryan’s engagement party. Wracked with pain, my hand trembled and I accidentally dropped the gift from his fiancée, Chloe. In front of all our relatives, Mom *slapped me across the face*. “You just can’t stand your brother’s success! You want to drag us all down with you!” “If life’s so painful, why don’t you just die already?!” Staring at the shattered pieces on the floor, I suddenly didn’t feel like explaining anymore. I took my last breath right there in front of them—exactly what they wanted. But they never knew I’d stopped taking my life-saving medication a month earlier to save money for Ryan’s upcoming wedding. The cramping in my abdomen felt like a hand was tearing my insides apart. A coppery taste rose in my throat. I clamped a hand over my mouth, desperate not to cough up blood. Mom was obsessive about cleanliness, and this carpet had just been replaced for Ryan’s engagement. If I stained it, she’d lecture me for hours. Earlier, I’d merely trembled from pain and knocked over Chloe’s expensive collagen jar. Mom’s slap hit hard across my face. It stung like hell, but surprisingly, my heart felt completely calm. Because this was the end. From now on, I’d never make her angry again. Never be a burden to this family again. I wanted to go back to my room and lie down. Passing through the living room, Ryan frowned in annoyance, brushing off his suit jacket. “Seriously, she just had to ruin a perfectly good day.” “Mom, next time relatives come over, keep her in her room. Having a sick sister like her is so embarrassing in front of Chloe’s family.” Mom gently smoothed Ryan’s collar. “Just ignore her. She’s just acting out because she’s jealous of your engagement. It’s her usual drama—she gets worse the more attention you give her.” Dad sat on the couch smoking, not even glancing my way. “Get back to your room! Don’t just stand there looking like a ghost! That dead expression on your face makes me sick!” I hung my head and whispered, “I’m sorry.” My voice was so faint it got swallowed up by the cheerful TV noise. I went back to the storage room—less than five square meters. This was my bedroom now. Ever since they cleared out the master bedroom for Ryan and Chloe after the wedding, I’d moved in here. No windows, just a creaky folding bed. I fumbled in the dark under the bed and pulled out my pill bottle. It was already empty. The doctor had warned I wouldn’t live more than a month without this medication. Today was exactly day thirty-one. Truthfully, I hadn’t wanted to die. I’d just wanted to save money. Last month, I’d overheard Mom and Dad doing calculations in their room. They were still ten thousand dollars short for Ryan’s wedding. And my year’s supply of medication cost exactly ten thousand dollars. Mom had sighed and said, “If it weren’t for Lily and her endless medical bills, Ryan would’ve been married long ago.” That’s when I decided—I wouldn’t take the medication anymore. I wanted to be the mature one for once. I wanted Mom and Dad to be proud of me, like they were of Ryan. The excruciating pain returned, worse than ever. I curled up on the folding bed, my body contorted like a shrimp. Cold sweat soaked through my clothes. Laughter and cheerful voices drifted in from outside. They were discussing wedding decorations, what kind of jewelry to buy Chloe. It sounded so lively. I wanted to go out too—just to get a glass of hot water. But I couldn’t. I was afraid I looked too terrible—afraid they’d accuse me of “faking it for attention” again. My vision started to blur. I grew colder and colder, like I’d fallen into an ice cave. I managed to pull the thin blanket over my head. That way, if Mom found me first, she wouldn’t see how bad I looked right after I died. She got queasy easily—last time she saw my dialysis needle marks, she looked disgusted. I couldn’t upset her like that. Breathing got harder—my lungs felt empty, like they’d been sucked dry. In my final moments, I thought I heard Mom’s voice. “Lily! Quit pretending and get out here to wash the dinner dishes!” Mom, this time I really can’t. Next life, I’ll be a healthy daughter. No more meds, no more bills, no more worrying you. Darkness swallowed me completely.

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating mid-air. Looking down, my body lay on that narrow folding bed. The blanket covered my head, showing only a pair of pale, shriveled hands. They were covered in needle marks and bruises—ugly, just like Mom always said. I tried to tuck them under the blanket, but realized I couldn’t control that body anymore. So people really do have souls after they die. I drifted through the bedroom door and into the living room. The living room lights were harsh on my eyes. Dinner leftovers still cluttered the table. My family sat on the couch, eating fruit. Ryan was peeling an apple, griping, “Lily’s so rude. She didn’t even come out to say goodbye when Chloe left.” “I told Chloe she wasn’t feeling well, but Chloe probably thinks I’m mean to her.” Mom scoffed, spitting a sunflower seed shell into the trash. “What’s her problem? I saw her practically sprint back to her room earlier—her legs looked fine!” “She just doesn’t want to help out! Lazy as always!” “For years, she’s used that kidney as an excuse to boss us around. Say one word, and she throws a fit.” Dad frowned and stubbed out his cigarette. “Enough,” “We’ve got to take Chloe’s parents to see the venue tomorrow. Tell her to get up early and clean the house.” “She’s a grown woman living under our roof, eating our food—no sense of responsibility.” I hovered nearby, listening. Strangely, I didn’t feel that familiar ache in my chest anymore. Maybe my heart had already stopped caring. I looked at Mom. Her temples were graying, and wrinkles creased around her eyes. She’d stressed herself sick over Ryan’s wedding. Well, it’s over now. I’m gone. They wouldn’t have that endless drain anymore—the one who only took and never gave. The money saved would pay for Ryan’s fancy wedding. Even when they had grandkids someday, they wouldn’t have to worry about my medical bills. I was actually happy for them. “I’ll go tell her to clean up.” Mom stood, wiped her hands, and headed for the storage room. My chest tightened, and I floated over to block her path without thinking. “Mom, don’t go.” “I look too awful. I’ll scare you.” “It’s late, and you have to get up early tomorrow. Don’t let me make you mad.” I waved my hands frantically, trying to push her back. But my hand went right through her. Mom didn’t notice, walked straight through me, and reached the storage room door. She banged on the door. “Lily! Come out!” “Don’t think you can hide in there! Do you want these dishes to grow mold?” Silence. No answer. Before, I would’ve rushed to open the door, put on my apron, and started cleaning. I’d always been terrified of Mom getting angry. When she got mad, she’d say she regretted ever having me. But today, no matter how hard she knocked, the person inside would never answer. Mom knocked a few more times, then got even angrier when there was no response. “Fine! Getting bold, are we?” “Giving me the silent treatment?” “Ryan, get the spare key. I’m dragging her out of there today!” I hovered nearby, panicking, circling frantically. Don’t open the door. Please, I’m begging you. Don’t open it. Not tonight. Let me keep what’s left of my dignity for one more night. But Ryan stayed on the couch, looking irritated. “Mom, why get so worked up over her?” “She just wants you to coddle her, make you feel guilty.” “If you go in there, you’ll play right into her hands.” “She’s probably just lying there faking weakness. Then she’ll start complaining about stomachaches and headaches to get money for those useless supplements.” Mom stopped knocking when she heard that. Ryan had a point, she decided. “You’re right. That girl’s full of tricks.” “Last time she said she felt sick, then guilted me into sending her two thousand dollars for medicine.” “What kind of medicine costs that much? She’s probably saving up for herself!” I opened my mouth to explain. That wasn’t supplements. It was life-saving anti-rejection medication. And one bottle cost over three thousand. I even used a thousand I’d saved from working. But no sound came out. Mom scoffed, turned around, and went back to the living room. “Not coming out? Fine.” “Starve then! No one’s gonna baby her!” “We’ll see how long she lasts! Let her rot in there for all I care!” She flipped off the living room light. Everyone went to their rooms for the night. The house fell silent as a tomb. I collapsed onto the floor, letting out a shaky breath of relief. Good. They hadn’t found me. Their words stung, but at least they’d get a good night’s sleep.

Early next morning, the house buzzed with activity. Today was when they’d finalize the hotel booking and Ryan would formally introduce Chloe’s family to his parents. Mom wore her nicest dress—the one she saved for special occasions. She even put on makeup, making her look years younger. Ryan sported a sharp suit with his hair gelled back. Dad polished his new dress shoes. The whole family grinned from ear to ear—all except the storage room door, still tightly shut. Mom laid out breakfast on the dining table. Boiled eggs, warm milk, Ryan’s favorite crispy bacon, and fluffy pancakes. The smell filled the house. I hovered by the table, staring at the steaming pancakes. Strangely, I didn’t feel hungry anymore. Normally by now, I would’ve woken up, mopped the floors twice, hung the laundry, and be sipping leftover rice porridge. Ryan sat down and bit into a pancake. “Mom, Lily still isn’t up?” “So lazy. The sun’s practically up.” Mom glanced at the storage room door, disgust flickering across her face. “Ignore her. She’s just being dramatic.” “We’ll lock the door from the outside when we leave.” “That way she can’t sneak out for food or mess up the house while we’re gone.” Dad sipped his milk and frowned. “Isn’t that overkill? What if she’s actually sick?” A tiny spark of hope lit in my chest. Dad still cared. But his next words doused it cold. “Chloe’s parents are seeing the house today. We don’t need her looking all sickly and ruining things.” “Locking her in is for the best. She won’t embarrass us that way.” So they were afraid I’d embarrass them. Right. With my purple-tinged skin and stiff body, I was quite the embarrassment now. Ryan shoveled food into his mouth, talking with his mouth full. “Exactly. Last time Chloe was over, she saw Lily taking meds and went home asking if Lily had something contagious.” “I explained forever it was from the kidney donation, but Chloe still got weirded out.” “She said someone that sick would just be a burden later. Suggested we keep our finances separate.” Mom panicked when she heard that. “Separate finances? No way! Who’ll help with grandkids? You’ll still need me and your dad!” “But Chloe’s got a point. Lily’s health is a real problem…” Mom paused, staring at the door with a complicated look. “After you two marry, I’ll find her a husband.” “We won’t need much for her wedding. Just someone who’ll cover her medical bills.” “Even if he’s divorced with kids, or older—as long as can cover her medical bills…” I hovered there, listening to them plan my future. Marry off a dying woman? Mom, you overestimate my worth. In my condition, not even a housecleaning service would hire me. Besides, I was already dead. Dead people don’t get married. After breakfast, the family—dressed to impress—got ready to leave. Before leaving, Mom made a point of walking to the storage room door. She took out a key and turned it twice in the lock. Click. The door locked from the outside. “Lily, we’ve got important guests today. Stay put and behave.” “You can wash last night’s dishes when you get hungry enough to come out.” “Don’t think a hunger strike will work. I’m not falling for it!” She tucked the key in her pocket, linked arms with Dad, and walked out. Bang. The front door closed. The house went quiet again. Sunlight streamed through the living room window, casting dust motes that danced in the beams. So warm. So bright. But it couldn’t reach the dark, cramped storage room. Or the body growing cold inside. I floated back into the storage room and knelt beside my body. Staring at the shape under the blanket. Suddenly, it all seemed ridiculous. They’d locked up a corpse. Thinking they were punishing a disobedient daughter. They thought I was in there pouting, reflectioning. But I was decomposing. Minutes dragged by. The sun crossed the sky. Light in the house faded. After an eternity, keys jangled in the lock. They were home. With guests laughing behind them. “Come in, please. This is the house we prepared for the kids.” “It’s no mansion, but it’s one of the nicest in the neighborhood.” Mom’s voice gushed with pride. My chest ached. Guests? They can’t open that door! They can’t let guests find a dead body in the house! That would ruin Ryan’s wedding for sure! I rushed to the door, desperate to block it somehow. Though I knew it was pointless.

Lots of people filed in. Chloe was there with her parents. They complimented the house—said it was nicely decorated and spacious. Mom beamed, bustling around with tea and snacks. “Oh goodness, excuse the mess. Please don’t mind it.” Chloe’s mom glanced around, eyes landing on the storage room door. “What’s this room? Why’s it locked?” Mom froze, then forced a smile. “Oh, just a storage closet. Full of old junk we never use.” “It’s a mess in there—all dusty. Not worth seeing.” I let out a shaky breath. Good. Mom was too embarrassed of me. In this moment, her shame was my protection. As long as they kept that door closed, everything would be fine. But Chloe spoke up. “Aunt Sarah, I thought Lily lived in this room when I visited last time?” “Is Lily in there? Why isn’t she coming out to greet us?” The room went silent. Ryan jumped in to smooth things over. “No, Lily moved out ages ago. Just storage now.” “With her health issues, she couldn’t live in such a small space.” He was lying. To impress his future in-laws, he’d erased me—his own sister. Chloe looked confused. “Really? I could swear I smell something weird…” She sniffed, frowning. “Smells like something’s rotting. Did a mouse die in there?” My stomach dropped. It was summer, and the storage room had no vents. Only a day and night, but the smell must have started. Mom’s face paled. She smelled it too. That sickly sweet stench of decay seeped under the door. Cutting through the fruit and tea smells in the room. “Probably an old fermented jar that didn’t seal right.” Mom laughed nervously, sweat beading on her forehead. “I’ll check it out. Don’t want it bothering you.” She hesitated, but Chloe’s dad—clearly a man who noticed things—already looked annoyed. “You should really keep better care of the place.” “With the wedding coming up, you can’t have odors like this.” Mom had no choice. She gritted her teeth and pulled out the key. Muttering under her breath, probably cursing me. “You rotten girl! What have you done now? Did you intentionally make this mess to spite me?!” “Just wait till I get my hands on you!” She was sure I was misbehaving. That I was getting back at her for last night—purposely stinking up the place to embarrass them. She stomped over and jammed the key in the lock. My spirit trembled. Mom, don’t open it. Please don’t. You’ll regret it. You’ll have nightmares. Click. The lock turned. Mom threw open the door, and a wave of putrid stench hit them. It was overpowering—like years of bitterness finally breaking free. Guests in the living room clamped their hands over their noses. Mom gagged, hit full force by the smell. “Lily! Did you… did you crap in here?! What is that smell?!” She cursed, fumbling for the light switch. Snap. The dim bulb flickered to life. The storage room’s contents were exposed for all to see. It wasn’t as messy as she’d claimed. Actually, it was quite neat. Only the figure on the folding bed lay still. A blanket pulled tight over it. And on the concrete floor beside the bed, a dark, dried stain. What I’d coughed up before I died. I’d tried wiping it with tissues, but I was too weak. Half remained on the floor. Mom froze. She stood in the doorway, hand still on the door, like a statue. “Li… Lily?” Her voice shook. Gone was her earlier frustration, replaced by terror. “Stop messing around… get up…” “Guests are here… don’t embarrass me…” She reached out a trembling hand, wanting to pull back the blanket. But her hand froze halfway, then jerked back. That smell told her what she couldn’t bear to admit. Ryan came over too, pinching his nose. “Mom, what’s her latest drama?” “Lily! Get up! Chloe’s parents are here!” When I didn’t move, my brother marched over and grabbed the blanket’s corner. “Quit faking! This isn’t funny!” He yanked hard. Whoosh. The blanket flew to the floor. My body lay exposed in the light. Curled up in pain, now stiff and contorted. My face was purple, eyes squeezed shut. Dried blood crusted the corners of my mouth. Worst of all, the swelling from stopping my meds had warped my features. Ah!!! Chloe screamed, diving behind her dad. The blanket slipped from my brother’s hand. He stumbled back, legs buckling, and collapsed to the floor. “Lily?” Mom’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She stared at me, lips trembling, unable to speak. Seconds of dead silence passed. Then a bloodcurdling scream that nearly shattered the bulb above. “Lily—!!!” Mom lunged forward like a woman possessed, grabbing my cold, stiff body. “My baby! My baby, what happened?!” “Don’t scare me like this! Please don’t!” “I’ll never scold you again! Just open your eyes! Please!” She shook me violently, as if trying to jolt me back to life. But I was already gone. Completely gone. No one to hear her words, or wash the dishes piling up on the table. I hovered near the ceiling, watching the chaos below. Mom sobbing until she fainted. Dad fumbling with 911. Ryan peeing his pants in terror. The weight on my heart finally lifted. Mom, see? I told you it would scare you. You insisted on opening that door. Now Ryan’s wedding is really ruined.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350232”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

As I prepared for my IVF sperm collection, I accidentally overhead my wife Chloe whispering to her mother—Dr. Davis: “Mom, I need to switch the sperm sample. I want Brandon’s baby.” Dr. Davis sounded confused: “But Brandon’s dead, honey. How could you possibly have his sperm?” Chloe fell silent for several seconds before blurting out, “It’s Mr. Hayes Sr.’s. Brandon’s mom is too old to have another baby, so I’ll carry their family’s child. You have to keep this from Liam.” Brandon had been Chloe’s first love. At that moment, I watched Mr. Hayes Sr. exit the adjacent sperm collection room. “Liam, my daughter’s making a huge sacrifice carrying your child. She’ll be hormonal during pregnancy—you need to be extra careful around her.” “And there are important pregnancy precautions—pay attention.” Dr. Davis stopped short, her expression hardening as she noticed my distraction. Chloe jabbed my arm sharply. “Liam, are you listening? Mom’s talking to you.” A bitter wave washed over me. My throat tight, I muttered, “Whatever. Handle it yourselves. I need to go.” I’d barely taken two steps when Dr. Davis’s voice cut through the air. “See? I never approved of him! You insisted on marrying this man, and look what happens! So irresponsible—how’s he supposed to take care of you and the baby?” I froze, her words dropping my heart to my stomach. Even before we married, I’d always been the one handling things for Chloe’s family. When her dad passed, she and her mom were lost. I took care of everything—funeral arrangements, bills, everything.” When Dr. Davis broke her leg, I cared for her around the clock for a month. After Chloe was attacked and struggled to cope, I spent two years helping her recover—every single day. But none of that seemed to matter to them. “Liam, apologize right now! Look how upset you’ve made Mom.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “And if I don’t?” Chloe’s tone turned icy. “Then I won’t have this baby.” That comment made my blood boil. I spun toward her. “Are you threatening me with another man’s child?” She froze, finally realizing I’d heard every word. “Since you heard, I won’t lie. You’re my husband, so you deserve to know—but I hope you can try to understand.” I lost it then, shouting, “Understand you carrying another man’s baby?” Dr. Davis stepped between us, snapping, “Who do you think you’re yelling at? My daughter can have a child with whomever she chooses! It’s her body—you have no say!” Chloe stared me down. “If you can’t accept this, we’ll get divorced.” Her words hit like a punch to the gut. I was furious, but some stupid part of me still wanted to fix this marriage. “If you’re dead set on having his baby, then our marriage is over.” With that, I walked out of the hospital and never looked back. Three years ago, after Chloe was assaulted and traumatized, I promised I’d never pressure her about having kids. Three years later, she was somehow planning to use her dead first love’s father’s sperm to have his child. As I exited the hospital, a familiar face waved at me from a car’s backseat. I climbed in, and we drove to a nearby café. The old man’s face was lined with deep wrinkles, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped his coffee cup. He looked like a tree withering in autumn.

“If you’ll let Chloe have this baby, I’ll compensate you generously. And I understand you’re bidding on that Southside development project?” “You won’t even need to bid. I can hand you the contract directly.” The speaker was Mr. Hayes Sr., CEO of Hayes Enterprises. His entitled tone made me bristle. “Why Chloe?” Mr. Hayes Sr. didn’t hesitate. “Because she was the only one who truly loved my son. That’s reason enough.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. If I told her what really happened to Brandon, do you think she’d still play along?” The words barely left my mouth before the old man erupted into violent coughing. I stood to leave when a familiar figure hurried over. She patted the old man’s back gently while shooting me a glare. “Liam, what did you say to Mr. Hayes?” It was Chloe. Somehow she always managed to show up right on cue. But the flicker of triumph in the old man’s eyes told me everything. I shrugged, forcing a tight smile. “Nothing much. Just mentioned a little secret.” Chloe frowned. “What secret?” The old man’s coughing stopped abruptly. “Liam doesn’t want you to have Brandon’s baby, that’s all. I can’t blame him, really.” Chloe’s temper flared immediately. “Liam, stop meddling in my life! My body, my choice. I’ll have a child with whoever I want—you can’t control me!” “And I already had the procedure done.” Looking at her determined face, my heart turned to stone. In that moment, I finally let her go. As soon as I walked out, I called my parents overseas. “Dad, I’ve made up my mind. I want to come home.” I spent the next few days in a fog, practically living at the office. Finally, Chloe called—probably tired of me not nagging her. “Liam, why aren’t you coming home? Do you even want this marriage anymore? Are we going to fix this or what?” Her unapologetic anger finally wore down my last nerve. I took a deep breath and said slowly, “Let’s get a divorce once I wrap things up here.” Chloe went silent on the other end. After a long pause, she scoffed. “Quit being so dramatic. You think divorce scares me? I’m having this baby, no matter what.” She hung up first. I laughed bitterly, feeling utterly helpless. From now on, her choices were her own. The baby? Whether she had it or not was none of my business. And that secret… there was no point telling her now. I used to be terrified of hurting her, afraid she couldn’t handle the truth. But now? It didn’t matter. Maybe her love for Brandon was strong enough to overcome that painful truth. I threw myself into work, determined to erase Chloe from my mind. Mr. Hayes Sr., clearly trying to punish me, made sure the project that should’ve been mine went to my competitor. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting, but with plans to join my parents overseas, this company no longer mattered. I started this business to give Chloe the life she deserved.If she doesn’t value what we have, there’s no point in me being her doormat anymore. I reached out to the firm that had previously expressed interest in acquiring my company. Just needed to wrap things up here, then I could leave this country for good.

During a rare lull in work, I checked my phone and found a flood of notifications. My Instagram was blowing up with 99+ messages. I tapped in and saw Chloe had posted something. The caption read: “Happy birthday, Brandon. I have a special gift for you this year.” The photo was an ultrasound. The comments were already blowing up, mostly from mutual friends watching the drama unfold. Mr. Hayes Sr. had commented first: “Thank you for honoring my son and our family this way. You’ve always been like a daughter to me.” Dr. Davis chimed in too: “Take good care of yourself, honey. Can’t wait to meet my grandbaby!” Then came the comments from our friends. “Chloe, that’s so selfless of you to do this for your ex.” One person snarked back: “Liam’s the real MVP here. Guess love means raising your wife’s baby with her dead ex?” Chloe must have seen the comments mocking me, but she didn’t delete them. So why should I protect her reputation anymore? I replied to every single comment: “Chloe and I are getting divorced. Her choices are hers alone from now on.” On the day of the company handover, I was stunned to discover Mr. Hayes Sr. was the buyer. He looked at me with disdain. “Now that you’ve sold the company, get out of town and never come back. I’ll take care of her from here.” “That money should set a poor kid like you up for life. Without my grandson, you’d be stuck slaving away at this failing business forever. Count your blessings.” I shot back, “Right, I should thank Chloe. If she hadn’t decided to have your grandson, I never would’ve gotten this ‘opportunity.’” My words barely left my mouth when Chloe and her mother walked in. Dr. Davis sneered. “You spineless coward! You sold your company, so hurry up and divorce my daughter already. Stop dragging your feet!” “After all, you used to wait on us hand and foot just to marry her. If my husband hadn’t taken pity on you, you never would’ve had a chance. You were never good enough.” “No family connections, no money—your parents didn’t even bother showing up to the wedding. You’re trash compared to Brandon.” Dr. Davis had always looked down on me. Now that I was leaving, there was no reason to hold back. I smiled coldly. “Congratulations, Mom. Soon you’ll have a CEO for a son-in-law.” Dr. Davis turned crimson with rage, while Mr. Hayes Sr. began coughing violently. Chloe slapped me hard across the face. “What’s wrong with you, Liam? Insult me all you want, but don’t you dare speak to Mr. Hayes like that!” The sting on my cheek snuffed out the last remaining embers of my love for Chloe. Mr. Hayes Sr. immediately signaled security. “Get this man out of my sight!” Two guards escorted me out, my pride in tatters. But just last night, my father had called with a mission.

When Chloe got home, I handed her the divorce papers. Her face fell when she saw them—no relief, just a flicker of sadness. Her voice softened, losing its usual edge. “Liam, can’t you try to understand? You know I never got over Brandon. What’s so wrong with giving him a child?” “If you think it’s unfair, I can always have a baby with you later.” I laughed bitterly at her absurd offer. “No thanks. Just focus on having that baby and becoming the Hayes’ golden daughter-in-law. I’ve held you back long enough.” Chloe’s jaw tightened. “Must you be so cruel? You know I’m not doing this for money. If I were, I never would’ve married you.” I stared at her coldly. “But you and I both know why you chose me.” If she hadn’t felt “damaged” after what happened to her, she never would’ve settled for me. Even married, her heart always belonged to Brandon. I wasn’t going to be her backup plan anymore. And I sure as hell wasn’t competing with a ghost. My words struck a nerve. Her face went white, and she ran to the bathroom, retching. When she emerged, her eyes were cold as steel. She picked up the papers and signed her name without hesitation. “Liam, we’re done. I hope you’re happy with your decision.” After her final remark, she grabbed her purse and stormed out. I didn’t feel sad—if anything, I felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted. Shortly after, I received an invitation from Hayes Enterprises. This was my father’s assignment: Hayes needed investment for a new project, and our family was their target investor. Once this deal closed, I’d be out of the country. Three days later, I attended the Hayes gala as scheduled. Of course, I ran into Chloe and her mother right at the entrance. Dr. Davis spotted me and sneered. “You actually think you belong at a Hayes event? Did they mistake you for valet parking?” I ignored her and pulled out my invitation. Chloe looked mortified. “Liam, just leave. Don’t make this worse. Security will throw you out if you stay.” I gave her a flat look. “We’re divorced, Chloe. My embarrassment is no longer your concern.” Chloe stamped her foot in frustration. “You ungrateful jerk!” Dr. Davis pulled her aside. “Calm down. Let him make a fool of himself. We’ll watch.” While they whispered, I’d already pulled out my invitation. As I moved to enter, Dr. Davis snatched the invitation. “Impossible! How could someone like you get a Hayes invitation?” Chloe snatched the invitation and scanned it, then laughed coldly. “This has a foreign name on it. You can’t even forge properly.” Dr. Davis scoffed. “Probably bought it off the street. Does he really think we’re idiots?” “Call Mr. Hayes. He’ll confirm it’s fake.” Chloe nodded and dialed. “Hello, Mr. Hayes? Did you send Liam an invitation?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350231”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

I spent three years as Robert’s ghost artist, getting him accepted into Parsons and nominated for prestigious industry awards. Everyone thought I was just a desperate hanger-on, untalented, yet foolishly trying to ride the coattails of a genius. The day he received his award, he kicked me out of the studio in front of everyone, claiming my aesthetic was outdated and I was only fit to be a grunt for truly gifted women. No one knew I endured all his insults and exploitation because his mother had paid off my father’s staggering eight-million-dollar high-interest loans. The moment the debt was settled, I immediately resigned, blocked him, and left the country. Three years later, I returned to the States as the Creative Director for Dior North America, overseeing the opening of its flagship store. And he? He was stuck beyond the velvet ropes, not even cleared to enter. During the opening ceremony, my gambling-addict parents burst in, causing a scene and accusing me on a live stream of being an “ungrateful daughter” and “sleeping my way to the top.” Standing in the crowd, Robert learned the truth for the first time. All those “masterpieces” he’d spent years boasting about? Every single one had been painted by me.

Vivian POV I’d built up Robert’s career, even though he was useless. The entire design world believed I was just his little sidekick, madly pursuing him. Robert stood in front of the poster celebrating his CFDA Award nomination, informing me that my services were no longer needed. “Vivian, your taste is too old-fashioned. It just can’t keep up with my current style.” “You’ve put in three years of hard work, I’ll give you that. But the person I need now is someone with true talent, like Ashley, not some useless little assistant.” I said nothing, glancing at my phone. A notification from my banking app clearly showed the loan had been fully repaid. “Alright, congratulations, Robert, on going solo.” No one knew I’d endured his endless criticisms and truly awful taste purely because his mother had paid off my father’s massive high-interest gambling debt. With the slate wiped clean, I was reclaiming my talent. “Is she really not even going to cry or beg to stay?” “Without Robert’s studio behind her, she won’t even land a layout job at some ad agency.” The studio interns whispered among themselves. The moment they saw Robert approach, his arm linked with Ashley in her designer attire, their expressions shifted instantly. “Vivian, that hick, really doesn’t fit the studio’s international vibe anymore.” “I bet she’ll be back in three days, begging for any job, even scrubbing floors.” Robert adjusted his cuff, a smug smile spreading across his face as he listened to their remarks. “If she truly repents, I might consider letting her come back to clean the studio and order sandwiches.” I took one last look at them, then walked through the hallway lined with Robert’s works, and left. The mocking laughter behind me fell on deaf ears. All I ever wanted was to break free from that expensive garbage heap and create something truly my own.

Vivian POV The air tasted of freedom the moment I left Robert’s studio. A memory flashed: forty-eight hours straight at his graduation piece, until I collapsed against the easel. All Robert cared about then was whether the canvas had been damaged. From now on, every brushstroke would be mine alone. My phone buzzed. It was my father. The moment I answered, a torrent of abuse erupted. “Vivian! Why hasn’t this month’s allowance come through yet? Are you slacking off at Robert’s studio?” I held the phone away from my ear, my voice flat. “Your gambling debts are paid, I’ve quit, and you’re not getting another dime from me.” A second of silence, then my mother’s shrill scream pierced through the phone. “Go beg his mom to get you another job! Even if it’s just being a housekeeper, you have to stay with them!” “I’ve been paying your gambling debts for three years. Legally, I have no obligation to keep filling that bottomless pit.” I hung up immediately and blocked their number. If my father hadn’t been a compulsive gambler, piling up massive high-interest debts, with loan sharks dousing our apartment with paint and threatening to cut off his hands… If the chairwoman of their family’s massive conglomerate-Robert’s mother-hadn’t made an offer: she’d clear our debts if I became Robert’s ghost artist, ensuring his admission to Parsons School of Design and his eventual fame… I wouldn’t have spent three years as a soulless hand, chewing up my inspiration and feeding it to that talentless hack, all while publicly flattering him and playing the part of his devoted sidekick. It was all just for survival. Back in my tiny ten-square-meter apartment, I began the final cleanup. The room was cluttered with discarded sketches-those Robert had deemed too profound, not commercial enough, and tossed aside. I fed all these drawings into the shredder. The machine’s roar swallowed the unsigned works. I wasn’t going to end up doing layouts for an ad agency, as they’d predicted. My portfolio was strong enough that I’d already received a full scholarship acceptance letter from Central Saint Martins in London. My parents wouldn’t let me go easily. A famous designer daughter, in their eyes, was a walking ATM. I had to get away. While packing my suitcase, I found a Montblanc pen. Robert’s mother had casually given it to me that first year I helped him win the Newcomer Award. Robert’s initials were still engraved on the barrel. I tossed the pen into the trash. Things that didn’t belong to me, no matter how expensive, were still just garbage. Just before the cabin doors closed on my flight to London, my phone vibrated. It was a text from Robert. He sent a voice message, his tone filled with entitled questions. “Why did you leave the work group chat? Where are the old color swatches?” Seeing no reply, he sent a text. “Vivian, stop playing games. Even if I have a new muse, you’re still my assistant. Stop messing around. I have a Vogue interview next week, you need to help me prepare the sketches.” I looked at the screen, a cold smile playing on my lips. He was so convinced I couldn’t survive outside his shadow, so entitled that he took my continued ghost-painting for granted. Just as I had for three years, he assumed I’d obediently send him the sketches he needed. On screen, “Typing…” flashed persistently. I stared at his profile picture: a posed photo at a gallery, with my painting The Drowner displayed as his backdrop.

Vivian POV I pulled out my domestic SIM card, snapped it in two. Along with the ID badge that read “Robert’s Studio Assistant,” I tossed them both into the airport trash. The plane soared into the clouds. The city lights below transformed into flowing ribbons of light, and the place that had buried three years of my youth vanished completely. From this moment on, no one would know I was a gambler’s daughter, no one would know I was Robert’s shadow. I was just Vivian. I put on my eye mask and fell into the most peaceful sleep I’d had in three years. A few years flew by quickly. Later, I heard that Robert went from being certain I’d return to becoming increasingly irritable, and his work’s quality plummeted. Publicly, he claimed it was an exploratory transitional period, subtly hinting on social media that his former assistant was “ungrateful.” Meanwhile, I started anew in London as a free artist, studying under a renowned master jewelry designer. Fueled by sweat and talent, my “Aurora” collection shone brightly at the Baselworld Watch and Jewellery Show, winning the Golden Design Award and landing me the role of Creative Director for Dior North America. My return to the States was because Dior was set for a major upgrade in the North American market, and headquarters sent me back to oversee the opening of their first flagship store and a haute couture exhibition. Before my return, backstage at my graduation show at Central Saint Martins in London, I was fluently directing models to adjust their jewelry. My gaze was sharp, confident, no longer that timid Cinderella. When my mentor announced that my work had received the highest honor, I stood center stage on the runway, basking in applause that was entirely my own. This time, no hiding backstage, no giving my name to someone else. At Dior headquarters, the global CEO pushed an appointment letter across the table to me, hoping I’d return to the States to expand the market. He also mentioned the fierce competition there, including the influence of a local prodigy named Robert. Hearing the word “prodigy,” I couldn’t suppress a laugh-the kind of laugh reserved for a joke. The CEO looked a bit puzzled. “Vivian, you know him? I hear he’s the most outstanding rising talent of his generation.” I picked up the pen, a playful glint in my eyes. “You could say I know him… But I’m confident I can show Dior what a true genius is, and what a manufactured fraud looks like.” On the flight back, I flipped through a fashion magazine. Robert and Ashley were on the cover, with the sensational headline: “The Power Couple of Design: Robert’s New Inspiration from His Beloved.” Inside, the so-called new works were a vulgar mishmash of piled-up elements. Without my input, his inspiration had clearly dried up like a desert. Ashley’s ‘muse’ effect wasn’t cutting it. Just before the plane landed, I received a gossipy text from a headhunter. “Director Vivian, be careful when you get back. I hear a brand called ‘Ashley Jewelry’ has been constantly issuing press releases, claiming Dior’s designs are copying theirs…” I turned off my phone, watching the city skyline grow clearer outside the window. Classic hypocrisy. Ashley Jewelry, Ashley… A few years gone, and your audacity has grown as thick as your skin. The plane touched down. I was back home.

Vivian POV At the site for Dior’s flagship store, the mall manager gushed with sales pitch, pointing at blueprints and pushing a remote spot. “Director Vivian, this location might not be on the main thoroughfare, but it’s spacious, and we guarantee foot traffic…” I didn’t look at the blueprints. I pointed directly at the light fixtures on the ceiling. “The natural light refraction angle here is thirty-five degrees. After 3 PM, the jewelry will produce glare. Plus, the customer flow was a dead end.” I looked at him, my voice very even. “Are you trying to pull one over on me?” Cold sweat broke out on the manager’s forehead, and he stammered, unable to speak. “I want the spot in Section C, directly facing the main entrance.” I retracted my gaze, an unyielding tone in my voice. “Also, inform the engineering department. I’ll be adjusting the lighting myself. I don’t want my creations ruined by cheap lighting.” While inspecting the mall, I passed a store under renovation. A huge poster on the hoarding showed Ashley wearing an exaggerated necklace, with the tagline: Ashley Jewelry – Redefining Luxury. The design elements of that necklace, twisted vines, were a crude imitation of one of my discarded university sketches. Robert had picked up my old trash sketches and cobbled them together for Ashley? It was disgusting. It felt like watching someone eat their own vomit. I looked away and instructed my assistant. “From now on, within a hundred meters of any Dior store, I don’t want to see these low-end knock-offs.” On my first day back, I ran into Jessica, an old high school classmate, at a cafe in the trendy gallery district. “Vivian? Is that really you?” I turned around. She was staring wide-eyed, openly appraising me from head to toe. I was wearing a sharply tailored black suit, its brand indiscernible but the quality exquisite. Gone were the paint-splattered messiness and the deliberate blandness of high school. Time and refined taste had given me a minimalist yet sharply assertive edge. Jessica dramatically covered her mouth. “Oh my god, I thought you were still overseas, hiding from debts… Oh no, I mean, studying. You’re dressed so… plainly. Are you selling art at some gallery?” I sipped my black coffee, saying nothing, looking at her as if she were an idiot. My gaze seemed to sting her, and her tone turned even more bitter. “It really is you! What a coincidence! There’s a class reunion tonight, just upstairs, and Robert will be there! He’s the headlining guest now, putting on a solo exhibition!” Robert? I was about to politely decline, citing work. But then I considered Dior’s upcoming collection; there seemed to be a certain thematic overlap with this exhibition. I was curious to see what he could draw without my hand. “Alright.” I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my assistant. “Cancel the brand reception scheduled for next week. Contact the media directly. I’ll be appearing at the Emerging Artists Joint Exhibition in the gallery district tonight, and bring that intellectual property infringement report with me.” Since we were meeting, I might as well bring a big gift. In the evening, I went directly to the exhibition party in my all-black work attire. It was a Dior haute couture suit from the current season, yet to be released. I was too busy to change, but it fit the occasion perfectly. The elevator doors opened. The entrance to the exhibition hall was overflowing with flower baskets from Ashley-a gaudy, unbearably tacky display of red and green. I walked in, dressed in minimalist black, looking out of place, yet exceptionally striking amidst the crowd. Good taste, it seems, truly is innate.

Vivian POV I entered the exhibition hall, not rushing to find anyone. Paintings lined the walls. I stopped in front of the central piece, titled “Rebirth.” It was Robert’s showcase work. The technique was ostentatious, the composition haphazard, a mere pile of paint trying to convey emotion. It was truly difficult for him. Without my help to refine it, his real skill was like exposing his artistic nakedness. Pushing open the minimalist glass door of the VIP lounge, the crisp clinking of champagne glasses washed over me. I scanned the room, my gaze settling on the main display area. Robert was giving a media interview. He looked more like an artist than he did in high school, with a carefully trimmed beard, wearing a linen designer shirt, striking affected poses. A woman with garish clothes and plastered with logos, as if price tags were stuck to her forehead, was clinging to his arm. It wasn’t the popular girl from back then. It seemed his taste had deteriorated even more than I’d imagined. Through the crowd, I heard Robert speak into the microphone, his voice full of feigned emotion. “The inspiration for this painting comes from the most painful severance deep within my heart. I lost a… very important assistant. But it was precisely this pain that shaped who I am today.” I almost laughed out loud. To present being dumped by me in such a pristine way-he really was a true theatrical personality. “Oh my god! Look! Robert! Your little sidekick, Vivian, is here!” A sharp-eyed male classmate suddenly shouted. The refined atmosphere of the exhibition hall instantly crumbled. All eyes, filled with surprise and schadenfreude, swiveled to focus on me. Robert spun around, his champagne glass shaking slightly. That profound, artistic demeanor instantly collapsed, replaced by ghost-struck shock and the uneasy feeling of being exposed. The woman beside him, sensing his sudden stiffness, dug her fingers into his arm. She looked at me with a gaze as if scrutinizing a counterfeit, then spat out my name. “Vivian?” I ignored the whispers and walked directly to a sofa in the exhibition’s lounge area, casually picking up an exhibition catalog to flip through. I remained perfectly composed, as if what I was reading wasn’t people’s mockery, but the beautifully printed garbage in my hands. Jessica was the first to approach. She looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on my black suit. “Vivian? Is that really you? That gloomy black outfit, did you get it from a discount store? It doesn’t even have a brand label. Look at us, we’re all wearing designer brands today.” I turned a page in the catalog, not bothering to look up. “It’s my work uniform. Easy to keep clean.” It was indeed my work uniform, a Dior haute couture utility suit from the current, unreleased season. A male classmate nearby burst into laughter, his voice dripping with humiliation. “Work uniform? Looks like being an overseas returnee means you’re doing manual labor. Are you moving art at some gallery, or a wall painter? My renovation company happens to need someone to paint murals; we pay by the hour. Interested?” Jessica covered her mouth, feigning sympathy. “Oh, don’t say that. Vivian, if you’re really struggling, I can give you some of my old season clothes to help you look presentable. The talented girl from back then, now so down on her luck she can’t even afford a brand label. It’s quite heartbreaking to see.” Amidst the chorus of mockery, I looked up at Robert. He didn’t join in the mockery, but he didn’t stop it either. He was staring intently at my hand as I flipped through the catalog, his eyes shifting nervously. In his gaze, beyond arrogance, there was a new layer of fear. He was afraid I would publicly critique his work and embarrass him. I closed the catalog and returned his gaze with a knowing smile.

Vivian POV The air was thick with sycophantic praise for Ashley. Ashley deliberately twirled her wrist, showing off her brand’s new bracelet. My gaze swept over the jewelry-the prongs were too long, completely obscuring the main stone’s fire, and there were obvious solder marks at the metal joints, typical of mass-produced factory work. That such shoddy pieces could be called independent designs truly meant the bar for the domestic market had lowered. Seeing such garbage pollute my vision filled me with a sense of the absurd. Ashley scoffed, looking down at me. “Vivian, do you remember those days when you used to clean Robert’s brushes and run errands for coffee?” She linked her arm through Robert’s, her tone boastful. “Now Robert is a master designer, and I’ve founded my own jewelry brand, ‘Ashley Jewelry,’ and we’re in talks to enter top-tier malls. We’re the perfect blend of art and commerce.” Everyone around nodded in agreement. Ashley looked at me as if offering alms to a beggar. “If you’re truly starving, you can come work as a setter at my factory. It’s hard work, but at least you’d be dealing with jewelry, which is better than doing odd jobs out there.” “No, thank you. I’m allergic to lab-grown cubic zirconia.” Ashley’s cheek twitched, and she instinctively covered the main stone on her bracelet with her other hand. Her movement was too quick, fueled by guilt. So you knew it was fake. Seeing that she hadn’t managed to humiliate me, Ashley shot me a disdainful glance and threw out a bigger bait. “I understand, after all, people at your level don’t get to rub shoulders with the truly elite. Do you know who I’m collaborating with next? Dior’s new Creative Director!” The room instantly fell silent. Ashley reveled in everyone’s attention. “That director is young and brilliant, a visionary in the design world, incredibly hard to get an appointment with. But, I’ve already secured an invitation to her private viewing through internal connections.” She turned to me, her voice laced with both threat and a false promise. “Once Dior and I finalize our collaboration, perhaps I can ask her to give you a few pointers. That would be a blessing you couldn’t earn in a lifetime.” A gasp of admiration went through the crowd. “Oh my god, a Dior executive!” “Ashley, your connections are out of this world! You’re even connected with a top luxury brand like that!” A bystander asked curiously, “Who exactly is this Creative Director?” Ashley tilted her chin, lying without a flicker of hesitation. “She’s a very distinctive talent, and we’ve had some very engaging chats via email.” I closed my book, leaning slightly forward, watching her with interest. “You two are very close then? Did she ever mention what her least favorite design element is?” Ashley froze for a moment. Then, she brazenly fabricated, “Of course it’s… mediocrity! Like your kind of mediocrity!” I said nothing, just smiled at her. Ashley seemed flustered and turned to Robert for affirmation. “Robert, you also think we can collaborate, right?” Robert looked embarrassed, his gaze still fixed on my face. “I hope we can collaborate.” I looked at the crudely imitated necklace around Ashley’s neck, my expression undisturbed. Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the exhibition hall entrance. David, Dior’s PR director, hurried in clutching an urgent document. “Excuse me, please… I have an urgent matter that requires the director’s signature.” He was impeccably suited, a folder stamped with the Dior gold logo in hand, his expression tense and deferential. The moment Robert saw him, his gaze shifted. I knew he’d noticed it-the haute couture brooch on David’s lapel. This was no junior staff member. Robert’s palms grew damp. He took a subtle step forward, an instinctive move toward proximity and influence. But David’s attention never drifted toward Ashley. It remained, intently, on me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350230”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance

On the way to the bridal shop, my best friend Chloe sent me a video. There was my fiancé, Liam Miller, in a nightclub, his eyes locked on several strippers and clearly enthralled. One even trailed her hand suggestively between his legs. Tonight was supposed to be our appointment to choose my wedding dress. No wonder he had claimed a late night at the office. “Which club?” I texted Chloe. Then I drove straight there. To everyone else, Liam was the quiet, dependable type, a reserved programmer. In our relationship, I was usually the one to take the lead, even in bed. Now I was going to see exactly what kind of wild side this honest man had been hiding. By the time I reached the nightclub, the music was deafening. Chloe stammered when she saw me. “Honestly, Audrey, guys look…it happens! But Liam? I never would’ve guessed. The man used to blush just talking to a woman.” A wave of nausea rolled through me. “Then there’s no wedding,” I said flatly. It wasn’t an overreaction. Liam, to me, had never been “other men.” We were high school sweethearts. Back then, he was unassuming-most girls even found him nerdy and unattractive. But to me, he was brilliant, kind, and loyal. After graduation, that once-awkward nerd quickly climbed the ranks to become an executive at a top tech firm. My friends all envied me, saying I had excellent taste. “A guy like your fiancé, rich and faithful? That’s practically a unicorn these days. You’re so lucky!” I couldn’t stomach the thought that the man I’d loved for so many years was just like every other jerk out there. Chloe, not wanting to get involved in my personal drama, made an excuse and left. I found a quiet corner and silently watched Liam. Not long after, a song ended. A beautiful girl in sequined thong walked directly off the stage and sat right on Liam’s lap. She wrapped her arms around Liam’s neck, tilted her head, and whispered something to him. Then, I watched Liam smile, a wide, joyful grin, as he looked at her. My hands shaking, I recorded the whole thing. Perhaps he sensed something. Liam suddenly glanced in my direction. The next second, his expression changed, and he started walking toward me. “Audrey, what are you doing here?!” I sneered. “Am I interrupting something?” He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied to you. I promise you, Skylar and I haven’t done anything inappropriate or crossed any lines.”

I lifted my head, meeting Liam’s eyes. “Skylar? The stripper who was just sitting on your lap?” Before Liam could answer, I continued, “You lied to me, refused to go wedding dress shopping, just to watch her dance. If that’s not ‘crossing a line,’ then what would you consider it?” A flicker of annoyance crossed Liam’s eyes. He rubbed his temples, sighing. “I swear, I wasn’t planning on doing anything.” Liam glanced in Skylar’s direction, then said, “Let’s talk somewhere else.” With that, Liam didn’t wait for my refusal. He simply gestured for me to follow him. I hesitated for a few seconds. But in the end, I followed him. My eyebrows lifted when Liam walked into the ice cream shop. “I thought you hated ice cream?” “Tried it once. Wasn’t bad.” He shrugged. “Remembered you liked it.” “You tried it once… with Skylar?” A flash of surprise crossed his face. “Yeah, but don’t read into it. I did her a small favor. She insisted on buying me one as thanks.” I  laughed. But the laugh turned hollow, and a quiet wave of sadness pulled under it. “Sophomore year, I waited in line and bought two. You took one bite and threw yours away.” Liam looked blank for a second, then recollection dawned, tinged with a shallow apology. “Sorry. I didn’t…appreciate the gesture back then.” I remembered fighting with him over it. To me, it was pure disrespect. To him, I was just being difficult. After we sat down in the ice cream shop, I looked straight at Liam. “Tell me,” I said, my voice deceptively calm. “How long have you known that stripper?” I was desperate to know what made her so special, what had changed Liam. “She’s not that kind of woman, really!” Liam immediately defended her. “Skylar works as a dancer to pay for her college tuition. I offered to sponsor her, but she said she wanted to do it on her own. And she only dances; she never crosses lines with clients.” Seeing my silence, he continued, “To Skylar, I’m just a regular client. Audrey, I really haven’t cheated on you.” I scoffed. Hadn’t cheated, or just hadn’t gotten the chance? “She told you she didn’t need your help, so why do you keep seeing her?” I retorted, sarcastically. “I decided to come on my own. Skylar doesn’t know anything, you shouldn’t talk about her like that!” he explained.

I’d never imagined Liam, the man I’d envisioned a lifetime with, would one day defend another woman right in front of me. It wasn’t until Liam’s hand touched my cheek that I realized I was crying. I fiercely pulled away, wiping my eyes haphazardly. “Liam, I’m not the type to cling on. If you have other feelings, just tell me now, before we’re married!” Liam grabbed my hand, this time not giving me a chance to pull away. “Audrey, I really don’t have other feelings, I just…” He looked frustrated again. I waited for Liam to continue. But a long time passed, and he said nothing more. Taking advantage of Liam’s grip loosening slightly, I tugged my hand free. “Let’s both cool off.” Just as I was about to stand up and leave, a female voice came from behind me. “Liam, I SnapChatted you, but you didn’t reply. So this is where you are!” As she spoke, Skylar walked up beside us. “Hi there!” Skylar’s vibrant smile momentarily stunned me. By the time I reacted, I’d instinctively replied, “Hello.” Skylar then turned to Liam. “Liam, you promised you’d come to dinner tonight. You wouldn’t flake on us, would you?” Liam looked at me, clearly uncomfortable. “Do you have plans tonight, Audrey? Do you want to join us? The more, the merrier!” Skylar’s demeanor was so open, so natural. It seemed she truly saw Liam as just a friend. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have other thoughts. I picked up my bag and stood. “I’ll pass. Have fun, you two!” With that, I turned and walked away. Under my watchful eye, Liam chose another woman. I don’t know how I made it home. The moment I stepped through the door, my two little cats rushed to greet me. I scooped them both into my arms. Feeling their warm, furry bodies, I belatedly registered the sharp ache and suffocating tightness in my chest. I don’t know how long I’d been sitting on the couch when my phone rang. It was my mother. The moment I answered, her voice bubbled with excitement. “How were the photos? How much longer?” I drew a slow breath, holding back the pressure behind my eyes. “We didn’t take them. Something came up for Liam. He canceled.” Mom paused, only slightly thrown. “Liam’s a busy man, sweetheart. You have to be patient. Did you reschedule? That photographer is impossible to book. If you postpone again, will it still be in time for the wedding? We could always find someone else, I suppose.” My mind was a complete mess. Afraid she’d hear the fracture in my voice, I made an excuse and ended the call. I opened my SnapChat conversation with Liam. In the three hours since we’d parted ways at the ice cream shop, he’d sent me two messages. One asked if I’d gotten home safely. The other said he would give me an explanation. I thought about Liam’s hesitation earlier, the way he kept almost saying something. I thought about his repeated assurances that he hadn’t done anything to betray me. As I slowly calmed down, a seed of doubt began to grow. Just as I was debating whether to confront Liam, a message from an unknown number arrived with a photo. Though it only showed a forearm, I recognized the mole on Liam’s wrist. Glancing at the location tagged below the photo, I grabbed my bag and left.

The location indicated a private club, not somewhere just anyone could go. With a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, I parked my car in the club’s lot. Liam had a regular private room there. I stood at the door to the room, took a moment to compose myself, then slowly pushed it open. “Are you insane? Do you even remember you’re getting married?” Hearing that, I instinctively held my breath, stopping my movement. “I am insane. The moment I saw Audrey at the club, I regretted it, but what good is regret? I can’t control my feelings!” “What do you mean you can’t control it? You just want to have your cake and eat it too! If you’ve fallen for that girl, then be honest with Audrey!” “I can’t picture my life without Audrey…but Skylar pulls at me. Lately I keep wondering, what if I’d never gotten together with Audrey? Would everything be different? I’m so tired. Skylar makes me feel…alive.” I listened at the door for a long time. Liam said that I was “suitable” for him, a “habit.” He didn’t know when, but our love had morphed into something akin to family affection. And Skylar, she made him feel a long-lost joy. … When the conversation inside the room shifted to other topics, my hands trembling, I saved the recording. Sitting back in my car, I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer. I sobbed, head buried in the steering wheel, for what felt like an eternity. By the time I finally calmed down, it was past midnight. Another message from Liam had appeared on my phone. He said he’d rescheduled the photography session for three days later. He also promised he would absolutely keep his word on everything he told me in the future, and he’d never abandon me again. I drove to my parents’ house. They were already asleep. Afraid to make any noise and wake them, I lay on the couch all night. The next morning, when my parents woke up, I told them directly why I’d come home in the middle of the night. “I don’t want to marry Liam anymore. Please, arrange some blind dates for me.” My parents were stunned. I didn’t want to explain too much, so I simply played the recording for them. Dad hadn’t even heard half the story before he exploded. “That two-timing bastard! Who does he think he is?!” Seeing his rage, I kept my voice steady. “It’s a good thing I found out before the wedding. Dad, I know our family and the Millers have joint ventures. Calling off the engagement will hit the company hard. So I’ll do it. Arrange a marriage with someone who can help us through this. I’ll marry whoever can secure our family’s position.” I owed my parents this much. Their unwavering support was the reason I’d lived such a sheltered life all these years. Liam was my choice. But facts proved my judgment was terrible. So, I was willing to accept my family’s arrangements and contribute to the company’s development. Mom’s eyes welled up with tears, her heart aching for me. Dad was silent for a long time before finally saying, his voice hoarse, “If the engagement is called off, our family’s impact will indeed be greater than the Millers’. Since you’ve decided to break up with Liam, I’ll find you a good match.” With that, Dad looked up at me. It was then I noticed the tear stains in his eyes too. “Audrey, you’ve grown up so much. It’s my fault. I failed to protect you from this.” To prevent the Millers from causing further trouble after the engagement was called off, Dad worked quickly, making arrangements and setting a time for me to meet my blind date. Coincidentally, the rescheduled photoshoot with Liam was on the same day. The day before my blind date, Dad informed the Miller family that the engagement was off. Soon after, my phone buzzed with countless calls and messages from Liam and his parents. I didn’t reply to any of them, blocking them all in one go. On the day of the blind date, I arrived at the café half an hour early. My date had arrived even earlier. After introductions, Noah Sterling and I laid out our situations. We were in the middle of a surprisingly easy conversation when a hand closed around my arm and hauled me to my feet. “Audrey! What are you doing?” I glanced at the unwanted guest beside me. Rubbing the spot he’d gripped, I kept my voice cold. “If your eyes work, you can see I’m on a date.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350229”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance

My childhood best friend gave up his offer from a top university abroad for a scholarship student he liked. Half an hour before the submission deadline, his Instagram updated. In the soft glow of candlelight, he was gently placing a birthday crown on her head. The caption read: “Some choices are more important than your future.” My best friend, Chloe, called me: “Lily, are you still going to help him submit his university application? You have three minutes left.” I closed the page and watched the countdown. “No, I’m not. This is it. I’m only paying for my own future.” At exactly 6 PM, the Stanford application system automatically closed. Chloe sighed with relief on the other end of the phone: “You finally came to your senses! Now I can come visit you in California during spring break next year!” Just as she was speaking, the familiar chime of the smart lock echoed from the door. Noah walked in with Sarah, as if they owned the place. “Lily, you submitted your grad school application, right?” “I told Sarah that staying here for grad school is the most practical path for her, given her situation. But she was still worried, so she insisted I come confirm with you.” “See? She’s even more concerned about your plans than I am.” He said, ruffling the hair of the girl beside him with a helpless smile. After deciding not to stay here with Noah, many of my emotions actually calmed down. I no longer felt a lump form in my throat when I saw Sarah hold his arm. I nodded: “Yes, it’s all submitted. Do you guys need something?” Noah frowned, looking at my flat expression. “Lily, what’s been going on with you lately?” Sarah subtly tugged at his sleeve and spoke softly: “Lily, you know my family’s situation…” “Going abroad is just too expensive. Even with a full scholarship, I can’t afford the living expenses or plane tickets.” “My grades are just average, so it’s better for me to stay here and work on projects with a professor. I might even get a small stipend.” “It’s all because of me that Noah gave up going abroad.” “Don’t be mad at him. He’s been helping me contact professors all afternoon, so he didn’t have time to tell you in person…” Listening to her timid, almost fragile explanation, I asked directly: “Didn’t you know about these difficulties at the beginning of the application process?” “Why did you wait until now to say something?” Sarah seemed startled, and her eyes instantly welled up. “I… I discussed it with Noah a long time ago. It’s just that we only finalized the decision today…” Discussed it a long time ago? I lowered my gaze. So while I was pulling all-nighters with him, planning our future and acing practice tests, dreaming of watching sunsets on the West Coast together, he was already mapping out a different future with Sarah. Seeing my silence, Sarah’s voice grew softer, tinged with a sob. Noah placed a hand on her shoulder, his tone turning cold: “Enough, Lily.” “When I made the final decision, didn’t I send you a message?” “There’s no need to be so aggressive.” His words hit me like a bucket of ice water, snapping me back to reality. I looked at his familiar yet suddenly strange face, then shifted my gaze away: “I’m not angry. I just wanted to know why.” Now I understood, and finally, I could let go. Noah and I grew up together. After my father passed away, my mother was often abroad, managing the international branch of her company. She came home less than twice a year. Most of the time, it was just me and my grandmother at home. Some relatives always gossiped, subtly criticizing my mom for being a “career woman” who was “never home,” or hinting that our family was “missing a strong male presence.” I didn’t want my grandmother to be sad, so I’d often hide under the tree in the backyard and cry. That’s when Noah would crouch down in front of me. He’d stand up for me against those relatives, and later, he’d bring me a slice of cake every day after school. From then on, I became his shadow. We went to school together, studied for exams together, and in countless late nights, we cheered each other on for our dreams. We promised to go to America together, apply to the best schools, take a road trip on Route 66, and watch the sunrise at the Grand Canyon. Once we got there, we’d officially start dating. Until last year, when Sarah appeared. She was a scholarship student from a disadvantaged background, sponsored by Noah’s mother. Because her old high school was struggling, she’d received a special transfer to our high school and was temporarily staying with Noah’s family.

At first, Noah wasn’t thrilled about her. He was quiet at home and kept his distance at school. But Sarah would quietly follow him, organize his study notes, save him a seat in the cafeteria every day, and even collect his lab reports. Her cautious demeanor sometimes reminded me of my old self. So, back then, I often told Noah to be nicer to her. But he’d just brush it off. Later, we got into the same university. Sarah, wanting to be with him, applied to the Sociology program, known for having the lowest admission requirements that year. Then one day, we went to the department office to submit some paperwork, and we saw Sarah alone in the corner of a lecture hall, discreetly wiping away tears during an English listening practice. Noah’s expression at that moment was complicated. There was surprise, guilt, pity. Perhaps even a hint of an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. From then on, everything changed. He would cancel our weekend dates to help Sarah with her English. He would accompany her to her general education classes because Sarah’s roommates were giving her a hard time. This afternoon, he texted me, saying he decided to give up going abroad and pursue his Ph.D. here at home alongside Sarah. I froze for a long time, but more than anything, I felt a sense of relief. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Noah was so sure I’d follow his lead and stay. He didn’t even ask about my choice before leaving with Sarah. That evening, at a group dinner, they were already there when I arrived. I picked a seat furthest from Noah. But he kept staring at me, his eyes full of complex emotions. One of the guys at the table chuckled, teasing: “Lily, why are you sitting so far away?” “You better keep a closer eye on him, or someone else will snatch Noah away!” Everyone at the table knew exactly who that “someone” was. Sarah didn’t deny it; instead, she blushed and glanced at Noah. A classmate spoke up for me: “Don’t talk nonsense. Didn’t Noah and Lily promise to study abroad together?” Before I could speak, Sarah softly interjected: “Noah didn’t accept the overseas offer.” “He was worried I wouldn’t adjust well abroad, so he decided to stay here with me instead.” There was a subtle, almost imperceptible hint of triumph in her voice. The table fell silent for a moment. Someone asked me: “Lily, really? You don’t mind? You two started preparing since sophomore year, right?” I looked at Sarah’s slightly upturned lips and calmly said: “No, I don’t mind.” “Everyone has their own path to follow.” Just like Noah chose Sarah. And I chose my own way. Halfway through dinner, I stepped out to take a call. When I returned, I found Noah and Sarah had moved to the seats next to me. Noah, his cheeks flushed and slightly tipsy, leaned closer: “Lily, I know you’re upset that I decided to stay here for grad school.” “But you know Sarah’s situation. Going abroad would be too much pressure for her.” “Staying here, she can continue receiving her scholarship, and also be close to her ailing mother.” “She’s so soft-spoken and has never traveled far. You wouldn’t want her to be alone abroad, right?” “Sarah said if you want to travel overseas, we can save up after graduation and go together.” “Don’t be so stubborn, okay?” I pushed his leaning shoulder away: “I said, I’m not angry.” “But, isn’t Sarah struggling with basic living expenses? How can she afford to plan an international trip?” *Clatter!* Sarah’s glass clattered onto the table. She bit her lip, her eyes instantly red: “Lily, I know your family is well-off, and you’ve always looked down on me.” “I plan to save up for the trip by working as a tutor, and I’ll pay Noah back.” “Do only people like you have the right to see the world?” “Do people like me deserve to be stuck here forever?” “I don’t steal or cheat. Every penny I earn is my own.” “Please stop talking down to me like that.”

The classmates started whispering: “Lily went a bit too far with that…” “She’s capable, but sometimes she can be a bit overbearing.” “If it were me, I’d also choose someone gentle like Sarah.” Sarah’s tears began to fall. Noah’s gaze turned completely cold: “Lily, apologize to Sarah.” Chloe couldn’t help but retort: “But wasn’t she the one constantly crying about being poor?” “Lily just asked a question, following her lead. Why should she apologize?” “She had three months of summer break. She could have interned or gone home to help her family.” “But now she’s not working, she’s not home, she’s just following you around everywhere, *and* she’s planning a trip? Who else would Lily be talking about?” Sarah cried even harder. Watching the scene unfold, I just felt exhausted. I pulled Chloe up, ready to leave. Noah grabbed my wrist, his voice laced with anger: “Lily, apologize.” “Otherwise, you won’t be coming on the graduation trip.” My wrist was clutched so tightly it hurt. I pried his fingers open one by one, then looked up at him: “Noah, you and Sarah can go wherever you want.” “Please don’t drag me into your affairs.” “And from now on, don’t come looking for me again.” With that, I turned and left. That night, Sarah posted on Instagram. The photo showed her and Noah at an amusement park. Caption: “Meeting you was the best luck.” I glanced at it, feeling a strange calm. I continued packing my bags, preparing to vacation in the city where my mother lived and worked. After my plane landed, my phone was flooded with messages. All from Noah. “Lily, Sarah and I are planning a graduation trip to California. It’s not too late to apologize and book tickets with us.” “There’s nothing going on between Sarah and me. She just posted that Instagram to say thanks.” “Lily, I really don’t understand you.” “How incredible this domestic Ph.D. opportunity is, what’s so bad about it?” “You’ve already secured your spot, why are you being so stubborn?” I scrolled past the messages, leaving them unanswered. Noah had thought of everything for Sarah, covering all her bases. But he never considered that my father had passed away years ago, my mother’s career was overseas, and my grandmother needed to be moved to a warmer climate down south for better care. Staying here wasn’t the best option for me. When I arrived home, a tall, well-built young man was sitting in the living room. He stood up and took my suitcase: “Do you remember me? I’m Ryan.” Ryan, the son of my mother’s friend, two years older than me, was pursuing his Ph.D. in California. Learning of my decision to go abroad, he’d made a special trip to help me get acquainted with everything beforehand. For two full weeks, Noah didn’t contact me again. His Instagram was updated daily with travel photos of him and Sarah. Meanwhile, with Ryan’s help, I familiarized myself with the courses, found an apartment, and got used to life across the ocean. Only after all the paperwork was done did I return home again. This time, it was mainly to handle the sale of my old family home. My mom was worried, so she asked Ryan to come with me. As soon as we entered the neighborhood, we ran into Noah’s mother, returning from grocery shopping. She warmly insisted we come over for dinner. Unable to refuse, and hearing that Noah and Sarah weren’t home, we went upstairs. Noah’s mother chattered as she cooked: “Lily, that Noah, he’s infuriating.” “He secretly turned down his overseas offer without telling anyone. I only found out when the university’s confirmation email landed in my inbox.” “Thankfully, he said you also decided to stay, otherwise, I’d have given him an earful.” “When you two are doing your Ph.D.s here, you’ll have to help me keep an eye on him.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350228”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance

My roommate used my name to date a billionaire online, but sent him her own beautiful photos. So when the billionaire discovered I was just a 200-pound fat girl, he furiously destroyed my family’s company. My parents jumped from a building in despair, and I followed them down. My roommate came to my grave wearing a huge diamond ring, her face full of grievance: “Rosalie, he proposed to me! It’s such a shame you jumped so early. Otherwise, with your 200-pound body as my bridesmaid, you would’ve made me look absolutely stunning by comparison.” “I only used your name to date him online because I felt sorry for you—fat as a pig and obviously never having experienced love. Who knew that the moment he saw you, he’d be so disgusted he’d bankrupt your family? I hope you’ll be happy in your next life.” Fortunately, I was reborn. Now, there are still three months before Adrian sees me. In this life, I’ll make her understand that using someone else’s name requires repaying with your life.

“WHAT?!?!” “You ordered me a limited-edition Ferrari?!” A piercing shriek shattered the dorm room’s peace. The two roommates scrolling on their phones immediately looked over. Kimberly Shaw had already bounced up to sitting position on her bed, her face filled with uncontrollable joy and showing off. “Adrian, you’re not kidding, right?” She glanced at me, deliberately pressing the speakerphone button. Billionaire Adrian Chase’s indulgent chuckle echoed clearly through the small dorm room: “Baby, it’s just a car. Why would I kid about that?” “I saw it in France and thought the red would suit you perfectly.” “Wait three months for me to return home—the import paperwork will be done by then too. I’ll personally deliver the car to your dorm.” The call ended. After a few seconds of silence came the envious squeals from the other two roommates. “Kimberly! Adrian really bought you a Ferrari?” “Oh my god… you’re so lucky!” Kimberly climbed down from her bed amid the amazed exclamations, walked over to me, and shook my arm coquettishly: “Rosalie, will you come with me to meet Adrian when the time comes?” “This is my first online relationship. I’m so scared of being catfished.” I looked up, my gaze landing on that face written with innocence. In my last life, I was fooled by exactly this act. My heart softened, and I nodded. In the end, I paid for it with three lives from my family. Kimberly transferred into our dorm during junior year. At that time, she had just been diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease. This disease required long-term high-dose steroids and supplements. Not only was the treatment expensive, but the medication’s side effects would cause crazy weight gain, swelling people up like balloons. And Kimberly’s family situation—forget medication costs, they couldn’t even scrape together her living expenses for next month. When her illness flared up, she could only hide in the dorm and cry. Back then I felt sorry for her, so I went home and begged my parents. The Connor family not only funded all her university expenses but also let her use Connor Pharmaceuticals’ new drug early. This medication had minimal side effects and didn’t cause obesity, but it hadn’t officially launched yet. At my repeated requests, my parents specially approved access, providing this new drug to Kimberly as “compassionate use medication.” This preserved her prized beauty and slender figure.

But my kindness only fed a viper. Senior year, she secretly used my name to hook up with billionaire Adrian Chase. She claimed to be the Connor Group heiress but sent him her own heavily edited beautiful photos. In my last life, also today, she received Adrian’s call about delivering the car and asked me to accompany her to meet him just like this. I agreed. Three months later. Adrian really showed up at the school gate driving that Ferrari. Kimberly linked arms with me and excitedly went up to greet him. But when Adrian called out “Rosalie” to the carefully dressed-up her, Kimberly acted like a startled rabbit, pretending not to know Adrian at all, her face blank and innocent as she pointed at 200-pound me: “You… you must have the wrong person. She’s Rosalie Connor.” Adrian’s face instantly darkened. He thought I had stolen Kimberly’s photos to deceive his feelings. In his rage, he used his power to destroy my family. And after my parents and I jumped to our deaths in despair, Kimberly finally found Adrian with tears streaming down her face, crying out her “difficulties”: “Adrian, the person who dated you online was actually me.” “I was too insecure. Your family background is so good, and I’m just a poor student with nothing. I was afraid you wouldn’t even look at me, so I used Rosalie Connor’s name…” “That day at the school gate when I pretended not to know you, I wanted to know whether you liked me as a person or just the identity…” Adrian lovingly pulled Kimberly into his arms and immediately proposed. “From now on, you don’t need to borrow anyone else’s name.” “Because in this world, there’s no more prestigious name than Mrs. Chase.” What a touching love story. Too bad it was built on the corpses of my family of three. “Rosalie, are you not answering because you don’t want to come with me?” Kimberly’s voice pulled me back to reality. I pulled my hand back expressionlessly, avoiding her touch. “Yeah, I don’t want to.” Her expression changed instantly. She leaned close to me, using a volume only we could hear, gently stabbing with her words: “Jealous?” “Jealous that I have Adrian? Jealous that he casually gifts me a Ferrari while you can’t even get a boyfriend?” Malice gleamed in her eyes as she smiled. “Before, you threw money at me and watched me be grateful—felt pretty good, didn’t it?” “Now it’s my turn to rise up. Rosalie Connor, that pitiful sense of superiority you had is completely shattered, isn’t it?” “Done talking?” I asked. Kimberly was momentarily stunned by my flat reaction. She was about to continue when I already had my phone out, dialing the butler. “James, immediately stop all assistance to Kimberly Shaw.” “Including her monthly specialized medication.” The butler’s voice came through the phone steadily: “Miss Connor, effective immediately?” “Miss Shaw’s medication for next month was supposed to be delivered tomorrow.” “Of course, effective immediately.” I looked at Kimberly’s face gradually losing all color, my voice calm: “From this moment on, the Connor family won’t spend another cent on her.” “And won’t provide another pill.”

After I hung up, the dorm fell deathly silent. The other two roommates looked at me, then at Kimberly, not daring to breathe. Kimberly froze for two seconds, then forced out a stiff, dismissive laugh: “Fine, cut me off! Who are you trying to scare?” “Your family’s sketchy drugs—who knows if they’re even safe? For all I know, you were using me as a test subject! I didn’t want to use them anymore anyway!” “Once my boyfriend comes back, what medication can’t I afford?” I put away my phone, my tone utterly flat. “Fine. Then you just wait.” Kimberly had no idea that without the Connor family’s specialized medication, switching to those ordinary steroid medications on the market, what awaited her. Buffalo hump, pockmarked face, central obesity, purple stretch marks… The beauty she prided herself on. Would deteriorate day by day, swelling, bloating, decaying. I was waiting too. Waiting for three months later, when Adrian saw with his own eyes that his “dream girl” from the photos had become a grotesquely bloated monster—what expression would he have? That scene would definitely be interesting. I didn’t look at Kimberly’s face struggling to maintain composure anymore. I turned and started packing my luggage. “You’re moving out?” a roommate asked quietly. “Yeah.” I stuffed several thick medical textbooks into my suitcase. “Need some peace and quiet.” I needed an undisturbed environment. Because I was going to execute the plan that Kimberly had interrupted in my last life. I studied medicine, and my focus was specifically on metabolism and weight management. Many people found it laughable. A 200-pound fat girl researching weight loss? They didn’t know that this body of flesh was “voluntarily” put on. Freshman year, I had modified a pharmaceutical formula based on pharmacology. Significant weight loss with virtually no side effects. My father was excited and wanted to open a new product line under Connor Pharmaceuticals. But those old fossils on the board of directors scoffed. “Something a kid came up with, and you dare claim no side effects?” “Miss Connor, how old are you? With this kind of credentials, who would believe it?” “Want to prove it? Fine, try it yourself first!” Their challenge actually inspired me. So, with my father’s tacit permission and support, I began my “self-experimentation” plan. I spent nearly two years gaining a hundred pounds through special diet and pharmaceutical assistance. In my last life, just as I was about to start a livestream documenting my entire weight loss journey— Kimberly dragged me to meet Adrian. After that came earth-shattering devastation and family destruction. All my hard work and plans, along with my life, turned to ashes. With this second chance, I couldn’t wait anymore. I zipped up my suitcase. The girl in the mirror was still bloated, but in her eyes, that flame that had been dormant for two lifetimes finally reignited. In my last life, more than one person said that when I was thin, I had a face that could make people forget to breathe. Well then, in this life, I’ll reclaim that dazzling life I should have had, along with the debt they owe me!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “350227”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #惊悚Thriller #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance