Author: Momo Chan

I took on a huge debt to save my fiancé’s family, turns out he’s the one who sent me to a mafia auction block. After my heart stopped for the fifth time, I’m slumped inside a dog cage, oil still slick on my skin, eyes blown out and empty. That’s when I hear them laughing outside the door. “This is rich. She really thinks she took on eighty million for Mr. Greco? That money’s his own damn cash.” “Boss was scared she was a gold digger. Set the whole thing up to see if she’d bleed for him. He thought she’d be washing dishes back here — had no clue she’s been strung up every night, passed around like a party favor.” The door swings open. The stink of blood hits them and they freeze, scrambling for their phones. So that’s it. The loan. The debt. The “selling myself to save him.” All of it — a stage play my fiancé paid for, just to test whether I’d bleed for him. Iron floods my throat. The world goes black. … When I come to, I’m wearing nothing but shredded rags barely covering me. Whip cuts everywhere, some deep enough to see meat. The iron door crashes open. A flashlight burns straight into my face. I don’t have the strength to lift a hand. I squint through swollen eyelids. And there he is. Matteo Greco. My fiancé. The man I bled eighty million for. The man who handed me to this place. His eyes hit my body — and freeze. Behind him, my best friend Vanessa slaps a hand over her mouth, faking horror like she’s rehearsed it. “Oh my God! Cora, what happened to you? Matteo only had you helping in the kitchen!” Her voice can’t hide the thrill underneath. Matteo walks closer. The reek of blood and whore-house oil hits him. He curls his lip. “Cora. I just wanted to test you. See if you’d suffer a little for me.” His voice is ice. “And what do you do? You throw yourself into a place like this. Selling yourself.” I look up at that perfect face. Something hot and the taste of blood floods my mouth. I turn my head and spit a mouthful of black blood, chunks of something inside it, right onto the toe of his shoe. Matteo jerks back two steps. “Don’t you dare play dead!” He stabs a finger at the marks on my body. “Look at yourself. Covered in this filthy oil like some cheap whore. I told you to suffer — I didn’t tell you to crawl under those old bastards!” I drag my mouth into something that might be a smile. “Matteo.” My voice is wrecked. Every word tears. “Is the show over?” “What did you say?” His face goes colder. I lift my head. The eyes that used to look at him with love are dead now. “I said. You make me sick.” His face turns to stone. Then his hand flies up — crack — and the slap snaps my head sideways into the iron bars. “You think I’m disgusting?” He’s shouting now. “You eat my money, you wear my name, and I’m not allowed to test you? You couldn’t hold a damn line. You made yourself this dirty!” Vanessa rushes in, grabbing his arm like she’s the voice of reason. “Matteo, don’t. Maybe she didn’t have a choice. Look at her — let’s just take her home.” Her gaze drifts over the bite marks on my inner thigh. She knows exactly where every one of them came from. A sick little flicker of pleasure crosses her eyes. Matteo inhales hard. Drags his glare across me one more time. “Get her out. Take her back. Let’s see if she’s still got the nerve to call herself my fiancée.” A bodyguard steps in and rips the cuffs off my wrists. The second the chain lets go, I collapse face-down into the pooled blood on the floor.

I’m dumped in the corner of his private jet, on the carpet, wrapped in a black robe one of his men threw at me. The cold is in my bones. My body convulses on its own. My teeth clack so hard I think they’ll crack. Matteo sits on the leather couch across from me, a glass of red wine in his hand. He watches me shake on the floor. For one second, something almost like guilt flickers in his eyes. The tip of his shoe nudges my shoulder. “Enough. Stop playing pitiful. You passed the test. Half-passed, anyway.” “You made yourself filthy, but at least you did it for me. When we land, you’ll get cleaned up. I’ll bring in the best doctors. The wedding goes ahead next month.” I don’t even flinch. Wedding. He throws me into hell, watches me get torn apart, then wants to put a ring on me. It’s so absurd I almost laugh. “What? Stunned by your good luck?” His brow knots when I don’t answer. He crouches down and reaches for my chin. I turn my face away. “Don’t touch me.” His hand freezes mid-air. His face drops like a stone. “Cora Lane. Don’t push me. You know what you are right now? A used-up piece of trash a hundred men have been through. I’m still willing to marry you. You should be grateful I haven’t tossed you in the river.” I open my eyes slowly. Meet his glare. The pity in it. The charity. “Matteo. You actually think if you snap your fingers, I’ll crawl back and lick your shoe?” “You—” He shoots up to his feet. Right on cue, Vanessa walks over with a glass of warm milk. She steps around me and hands the glass to Matteo. “Babe, don’t waste your breath. Her head’s not right yet.” She turns to me. Smiles. “Cora, sweetie. Matteo’s been so good to you. Where’s the gratitude? On those nights they had you strung up on the cross — didn’t you think of Matteo at all?” Matteo’s face goes white. His eyes come back to me, and this time there’s no hiding the revulsion. Vanessa pulls out her phone right on schedule. “Matteo… I didn’t want to show you this. I have a contact who works the block. He sent me something. I was going to delete it — I didn’t want to dirty your eyes. But the way she’s acting…” She lets it hang. Matteo snatches the phone out of her hand. Security footage. High definition. Me. Naked. Roped to a massive iron cross. Oil slicked over every inch of me, glittering under the lights. Below the stage, a dozen rich bastards screaming and tossing bets. Some of them howling like animals. A huge man climbs up holding an electric whip. He’s laughing as he brings it down across the inside of my thighs. Current rips through me. My body jackknifes. The sound I make doesn’t even sound like me. Then he puts his shoe on my face and makes me lick his shoe clean. It goes on. Smack. Matteo hurls the phone straight into my face. The screen shatters. Glass slices my forehead. Blood pours down instantly. “Cora!” His voice cracks — fury, and something worse, disgust so deep it’s almost grief. “You filthy bitch— you let those old bastards do that to you? You make me sick. You make me physically sick.” I lie there. Blood runs into my eyes. The world turns red. I look at his twisted face and find I don’t have a single word left to say.

The jet lands. They drag me straight to the Greco estate, down to the basement that never sees daylight. This is where Matteo used to keep his Rottweilers. The air still stinks of dogs. They chain my wrists and leave me face-down on the concrete. The iron door creaks open. “Tsk tsk. Still got that pride, huh?” Vanessa walks over and lifts my chin with the toe of her heels. “You wanna know why he locked you down here?” She crouches and leans in close to my ear, sweet poison in her voice. “Because you’re filthy. He’s scared you’ll give him something. Right now, every time he pictures you under those old men, he can’t even keep his food down.” I close my eyes. My breath is barely there. She doesn’t like that. Her eyes flash. She signals the guards behind her. “Teach her some manners.” Two of them yank me up by the arms. Vanessa pulls a small electric prod from her pocket. “Back at the auction block, they used one of these on you all the time, right? Let’s jog your memory.” She jams the prod straight into the raw, unhealed meat on my inner thigh. “AAAAAHH—!” I thought I was ready. I wasn’t. Everything goes white. My body convulses off the floor. The wound splits open. Blood soaks through what’s left of my clothes. She keeps clicking the button. Again. Again. Again. The world starts to dim. The door opens again. Matteo stands in the doorway, watching like it’s a movie. Vanessa pockets the prod instantly. The concerned-girlfriend face snaps back on. “Babe, you came down? It’s filthy down here.” Matteo walks straight to me. He has a folder in his hand. He drops it on my face. “Sign.” I force my eyes open. I can read the words. Voluntary Surrender of All Shares and Assets of Lane Holdings. Stapled behind it: Lifetime Servitude Contract. “You said you loved me, didn’t you?” His voice is ice. He’s looking down at me like I’m something on the bottom of his shoe. “You’re already ruined. So I’ll buy the rest of your life with that eighty million. You’ll be my slave. That’s the deal.” “Sign it, and I’ll bring the doctors. Don’t sign, and you rot down here.” I look at the folder. Something cracks inside me, and I start to laugh. It echoes off the basement. Thin. Awful. It doesn’t sound like me. It sets him off. “What the hell are you laughing at?” “I’m laughing…” I lift my head. I lock onto his eyes and I don’t let go. “I’m laughing because you’re never going to get what you want. Not from me. Not ever.” I pull together every scrap of strength I have left. And I spit a mouthful of blood right onto the contract. Matteo loses it. “Beat her! Beat her until she can’t move!” Vanessa’s eyes light up like Christmas. She waves the guards on. Boots come down on my ribs. My back. My face. Matteo just stands there. Watching. Cold. The fury of a man who’s never been told no. Somewhere in the haze, I make myself a promise. I’m going to live through this. And when I do, I’m going to bury every single one of them.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/2026070242uZr101J6 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni146643”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

My husband had a curse. Every wolf in Northbridge knew it. Every six months, Alpha Adrian Black would lose fifteen days of memory. Not all of it. Never his name. Never his power. Never the pack he ruled. Never the instincts that made wolves bow when he walked into a room. Only me. His Luna. His true mate. His wife. For fifteen days, the mate bond would go dead in his mind, and another woman would become the center of his world. He would call her his moon, his fate, his only love. And I would become the joke every pack wife pitied behind a jeweled hand. The first time the curse took him, Adrian fell for my rival at the Northbridge Broadcast Center. For his so-called true love, he had me kidnapped on the morning of the most important live broadcast of my career. I was supposed to anchor the national interview that would make my name impossible to erase. Instead, my own mate sent guards into the studio before the red light came on. They clamped a hand over my mouth, dragged me through the hallway in front of the crew, and broke both my legs on his orders so I could not crawl back to the desk. The broadcast went black. My rival took my seat. By sunrise, she was the new face of Northbridge. I was the Luna whose Alpha could break her bones for another woman and still make the whole city laugh. On the fifteenth day, Adrian woke. He collapsed at my feet and cried until his throat bled. Before nightfall, my rival vanished from the city. The official report called it a disappearance. The pack called it justice. No one dared say her name again. The second time, he fell for a maid who had climbed into his bed. She wanted my room. My jewels. My title. My bond. When I refused to leave, Adrian had his guards throw me into the red-lamp quarter outside the pack border. They filmed me being dragged through the streets while drunk wolves howled my name and posted the footage across every pack feed. On the fifteenth day, he woke outside the bond court. He put a blade to his own throat and begged me to let him bleed enough to pay for it. As for the maid, she ended the same way as the first woman: sold across the northern rogue line and returned three days later so broken she no longer knew how to speak. The worst time was the seventh. He chose my adopted sister. I was six months pregnant. For her, Adrian signed the order that sent me to a healer’s room and had our pup cut from my body before his lungs had learned how to breathe. By the time the curse ended, the sheets were soaked red, the crib was empty, and the pup I had carried under my heart was gone. Adrian woke in a room full of blood and silence. He tried to hang himself before the healers could stop him. They fought for three days and three nights to keep him alive. He survived. So did the curse. And now, this was the twelfth time. I stood at the door of our bedroom and looked at my best friend wrapped around my half-dressed husband. Selena Vale wore one of my old silk nightgowns. Pale blue. Expensive. The one I had thrown into the donation basket last week. She had always been delicate in public. Soft voice. Wet eyes. Fingers trembling at exactly the right moment. Now she lay against Adrian’s bare chest like a she-wolf who had won a war. “Elena,” she whispered, as if I were the one who had walked into the wrong room. “I know you’re hurt. But love can’t be forced.” Her hand slid over Adrian’s heart. “He loves me now. You have to accept that.” Adrian looked at me like I was a stranger standing too close to something that belonged to him. Something in my chest should have cracked. It didn’t. I only looked at the calendar on the wall. Day one. Good. I still had fourteen days to bury this marriage before it buried me. “If you run out of protection,” I said, “there’s more in the second drawer.” Selena blinked. Adrian’s brows drew together. I kept my voice calm. “If you want to give him a pup, tell me early. I have a heavy work schedule this week, and I’ll need time to file the rejection papers.” Selena stared at me like I had lost my mind. I turned to her and smiled. “Oh. And Selena?” “Yes?” “Did you buy life insurance?” Her smile froze. I let the question sit between us. Then I turned and walked out. Behind me, Adrian laughed, low and cruel. “Why are you wasting your breath on her? Elena was only ever a political Luna. My heart is yours.” A political Luna. That was what the curse always did. When Adrian forgot loving me, his mind filled the empty space with contempt. It gave him a story that made sense. I stepped out of the Alpha estate and called my lawyer before I reached the gates. “Start the rejection process,” I said. “I don’t care how much it costs. In fifteen days, I want the mate bond severed, my assets locked, and every Luna right removed from Adrian Black’s control.” There was a pause. “Luna Black, are you certain?” I looked back at the house where I had spent seven years bleeding for a male who only remembered loving me after the damage was already done. “Yes,” I said. “And don’t call me Luna Black again.”

By midnight, I was asleep in one of my own apartments across the city. By morning, my phone had almost burned itself dead. Adrian had called thirty-six times. I answered on the thirty-seventh. “Elena,” he snarled. “What did you do to Selena?” I rubbed my temple. “Good morning to you too.” “Don’t play innocent. She’s missing. You hated that I chose her, so you hurt her.” I almost laughed. The little fool had staged her own disappearance already. Fast learner. “Adrian, I didn’t touch your precious Eclipse Mate.” “Don’t call her that.” “That’s what she is, isn’t she? Fifteen days of moonlight before the dark comes back.” His growl shook through the phone. “If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you.” “You won’t remember saying that in two weeks.” The line went dead. Three minutes later, my apartment door broke open. Adrian came in first. His guards followed. His eyes were gold, wild, and empty of me. Before I could stand, his hand cracked across my face with the full strength of an Alpha who had forgotten he once kissed that same cheek. Pain burst white behind my eyes. I hit the floor hard enough for my teeth to cut through my lip. Blood filled my mouth. For half a second, the room went quiet. Then I looked toward the corner. The little red light on the security camera blinked steadily. Good. Adrian crouched in front of me, his expensive black coat brushing the floor. “Still looking at me like that?” he said. “Like I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?” I lowered my head. Not because I was afraid. Because the camera needed the angle. “Adrian,” I whispered, letting my voice tremble just enough, “you hit me for her?” His mouth twisted. “You kidnapped her. That crossed my line.” He stood. “Search the apartment. If she doesn’t tell us where Selena is, make her.” The guards moved at once. One fist landed against my ribs. Then another. Then another. Someone drove a knee into my stomach. Someone wrenched my arms behind my back until my shoulders screamed. I curled in on myself and counted each blow. Not because I wanted to remember the pain. Because every second was being saved to the cloud. A boot hit my side. My breath snapped apart. The room blurred. For one ugly heartbeat, I remembered the tenth curse, when Adrian had almost gouged out one of my eyes for a woman who said she hated the way I looked at him. When he woke that time and saw the blood crusted across my lashes, he locked himself in the cellar for a week and broke both his hands against the stone wall. He begged to tear out his own eye so the debt would be even. Back then, I stopped him. This time, I wondered why I had ever bothered. The last punch landed under my ribs. My throat tightened. I vomited blood onto my own floor. Adrian’s phone rang. His face changed before he even answered. “Selena?” His voice softened at once. “I’m coming. Don’t cry. I’ll be there.” He walked out without looking back. The guards followed. The broken door swung open in the silence. I lay on the floor until I could breathe again. Then I reached for my phone with shaking fingers, opened the live security upload, and saved the file under a new folder. Gift One. For the day he wakes.

Selena’s disappearance ended exactly the way I expected. She was found in a luxury hotel suite an hour later, wrapped in Adrian’s coat, weeping for the cameras. By noon, the whole pack believed I had tried to hurt her. By evening, Adrian froze my accounts. By nightfall, he called the Northbridge Broadcast Center and had me suspended from my own show. My director looked at me across his desk and smiled the stiff smile of a coward. “Elena, you know how this works. In fifteen days, Alpha Adrian will recover. He always does. Everyone knows you’re the one he truly loves.” Love. I looked at the suspension notice on the table. Then I asked, “Do you know how Adrian’s parents died?” The director’s smile vanished. “What?” “His father had the same curse. During his seventy-eighth cycle, he killed his Luna for another woman. When he woke, he jumped from the twentieth floor holding that woman in his arms.” The room went silent. I picked up the notice. “I’m not waiting for history to repeat itself.” Outside the station, Selena’s messages came one after another. Photos first. Adrian on his hands and knees while Selena sat on his back, laughing for the camera. Adrian kneeling at her feet. Adrian washing her feet in a silver basin. Adrian fastening diamonds around her throat. Adrian emptying every luxury store in Northbridge because she had said, laughing, that she wanted a mountain of gifts. Then came the words. You were always the main character, Elena. I was always the friend standing in the background. But now he belongs to me. Soon your crown, your wealth, your home, and your happiness will all be mine. Are you jealous? I hope it hurts. I stared at the screen. Then I took screenshots and uploaded everything. Gift Two. I drove back to the Alpha estate for one reason. My grandmother’s moonweave. It was the only thing I had left from my mother’s bloodline, a silver-threaded tapestry stitched by the women of my family for five generations. It carried our old crest, our birth moons, our names. My grandmother had placed it in my hands before she died and told me never to give it to anyone who did not understand what it meant. Adrian had once begged me for it. “Give me something that matters to you,” he had said, holding me after the seventh curse almost destroyed us both. “Something I can keep safe. Something that proves you won’t leave me.” So I gave him the moonweave. He framed it himself. Now I wanted it back. Clean break. Clean hands. Clean ending. But when I stepped into the estate, Selena was already in the great hall, holding a filthy stray pup against her chest. The animal was wet, trembling, and so terrified it had urinated down the front of her dress. Adrian stood beside her, pale from the fur allergy he refused to admit he had. “Poor thing,” Selena cooed. “Adrian, hand me that ugly cloth on the wall. I need to wipe him down.” My heart stopped. She was pointing at the moonweave. “Don’t,” I said. Adrian didn’t even look at me. He shattered the frame with one hand and pulled out the tapestry. “Why would anyone hang an old rag in the Alpha hall?” he said, disgust curling his lip. “Elena really has no taste.” The male who once kissed that cloth and swore it made him feel safe now tossed it to another woman like trash. Selena smiled at me. Then she dragged the mud-soaked, urine-stinking pup across my grandmother’s moonweave. Something in me finally tore open. I lunged. I didn’t reach her. Adrian caught the back of my coat and hurled me away from her as if I were filth. My body struck the floor-to-ceiling glass. The window exploded. Shards raked across my back, my arms, my thighs. For one second, I heard nothing but the wet sound of my own blood hitting the marble. Adrian froze. His eyes dropped to the blood spreading under me. His face went white. There. A crack in the curse. “Elena…” he whispered. Then Selena sobbed. “Adrian, she scared me. She scared the pup. I don’t want to stay here anymore.” The gold came back into his eyes. He shook his head hard. “No. No, I don’t care about her.” He pulled Selena close. “I love you. Only you.” I lay on the floor and reached for the ruined moonweave with bloody fingers. Selena passed me in Adrian’s arms. Her lips formed silent words. You are just like this rag. If I want it, he gives it to me. Then she let the stray pup slip from her arms. The animal, panicked by the smell of blood and waste, lunged back toward the cloth. Its teeth sank into my arm when I dragged the moonweave to my chest. Pain tore white through me. I held on anyway. By the time I woke again, I was in a private healer’s room. My hand was still clenched around a corner of the stained moonweave. A young nurse changed the bandages along my back and muttered under her breath, “Your Alpha is a monster.” I turned my head toward the window. Morning light warmed the sheets. “Healers called him last night,” she said. “They said you might not make it. They needed him to sign for emergency blood transfer.” I closed my eyes. “What did he say?” The nurse’s mouth tightened. “He said he was busy comforting Miss Vale. He said if you wanted to die, then let you die.” Let you die. I opened my eyes. “Can you repeat that?” I asked. She blinked. “What?” I lifted my phone. “For the record.” Her face hardened with understanding. She repeated every word. I saved the audio. Then I pulled the estate security footage from the backup server Adrian had forgotten I still controlled. The broken frame. The ruined moonweave. The glass. The blood. The dog’s teeth tearing into my skin. His face when he almost remembered. I uploaded everything. Gift Three.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260702WNoU4M30sf 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni193650”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

“I’m sorry, Maeve,” my coach said. “But the final roster has been confirmed. There wasn’t a mistake.” I found out on the last day of the public announcement. My Olympic Training Grant, the one I’d nearly destroyed my body for, had been reassigned. To Lyla Voss. I found Silas in the rink parking lot, leaning against his Porsche, flicking ash off a cigarette like it was any other Tuesday. “Lyla’s family is broke,” he said, not even looking at me. “Without the grant, she’d have to quit skating and get a job.” “You’re talented enough to qualify on your own at Sectionals.” I stared at him. Silent. Jaw locked. He frowned, pulled a black card from his wallet, and held it out. “Fine. I’ll cover your training costs for the next four years. All of it. Consider it me buying your spot. Happy now?” I looked at the card in his hand. So that was it. The spot I’d bled for. The early mornings. The torn ligaments. The hours on ice until I couldn’t feel my feet. All of it was just a price tag to him. A charity write-off. I didn’t take the card. I turned and walked away. Outside, it started to rain. Silas’s voice went cold behind me. “What the hell is your problem now? You bust your knuckles in that pro shop every day for cash. I’m handing you money and you’re acting like you’re above it?” My steps slowed. I turned my head. Looked at his face through the blur of rain. Fifteen years of loving him. Fifteen years of thinking he was mine. It all rotted through in that single moment. So I smiled. “Sure. Think whatever you want.” … I’d barely made it back to the pro shop when Bree called. “Maeve, did you see the roster? How the hell is Lyla on it? Did Silas do this?” I let out a bitter laugh. “I talked to him.” “What did he say?” “He said he bought my spot.” Silence on the other end. Then Bree’s voice came back, teeth clenched. “He’s a piece of shit.” I said nothing. “What are you doing right now?” she asked. “Sharpening blades.” “Stop sharpening blades! Go to the federation office and raise hell! That spot is yours! Do you not remember what you sacrificed for it?” I shook my head, kept working. “It won’t matter.” “How can it not matter? It’s a federal program!” “If Silas’s family can swap it once, they can swap it again.” More silence. Finally Bree said, “I just saw Lyla’s Instagram. Silas booked the most expensive restaurant in the city to celebrate for her.” “Okay.” “Maeve…” “I gotta go. Customer just walked in.” I hung up. A guy came in with a dull pair of skates. I grabbed them and got to work.

The next morning, I went to the rink to file my paperwork for Sectionals. In the hallway, I ran into Silas and Lyla. Lyla was clinging to his arm. The second she saw me, she ducked behind him like a scared kitten. “Silas, I’m scared.” He stepped in front of me, brow furrowed. “Maeve, don’t intimidate her.” I moved to walk around them. He grabbed my wrist. “What’s your attitude? Lyla didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t have a choice! Do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone?” I yanked my hand free. “Move.” My voice was sharp. People in the hallway turned to look. Lyla’s tears spilled over. “Maeve, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. If you’re still angry, you can hit me. I deserve it.” She stepped toward me, arms open, like she was offering herself up. Silas yanked her back into his chest, glaring at me. “Look what you’ve done to her! Maeve, when did you become this cruel?” Whispers started around us. “That’s the girl from the pro shop, right?” “I heard she was supposed to get the grant, but Lyla got it instead.” “I mean, look at her face. Cold as ice. Who’d want to help her?” “Lyla’s so sweet. If I were Silas, I’d pick her too.” I ignored them all. Looked only at Silas. “I’ll say it one more time. Move.” He didn’t. He shoved me instead. “You’re apologizing to Lyla. Right now.” I stumbled back two steps. Hit the wall. Pain shot through my spine. I looked up at him. He looked back. Not a trace of warmth in his eyes. We grew up together. He was twelve when his family sent him from Manhattan to this nowhere town. Got into a fight his first day. I was the one who grabbed a wrench and scared off those older kids. After that, he followed me everywhere. He hated the grease on my hands. But whenever someone mocked my hearing, my dead right ear, he’d throw fists until they were on the ground. He said: “Maeve, I’ve got you from now on.” “You can’t hear out of one ear? Fine. I’ll be your other ear.” “When we get out of here, we’ll go to New York together.” Now he was shoving me into a wall. For another girl. Lyla sobbed harder in his arms. “Silas, forget it. Let’s just go. It’s all my fault.” He rubbed her back, voice going soft. “It’s not your fault.” He shot me one last look, pure warning, then walked away with his arm around her. I stood there for a while. Then straightened up and kept walking. On the way to the office, I passed the announcement board. Lyla’s photo was pinned in the center. Below it, the grant justification read: *Exceptional talent. Financial hardship. Remarkable perseverance.* I almost laughed. I remembered what it was like, going back to the pro shop. My father, reeking of whiskey, hand already out. “Where’s the money?” I ignored him. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head into the wall. “I’m talking to you! You deaf?” My right ear heard nothing. My left ear rang from the impact. “I don’t have any.” “Bullshit. That Kensington kid is loaded! You’re always hanging around him. What’s a little cash? You hiding it from me?” He slapped me across the face. Started digging through my pockets. I shoved him off. He kicked me in the stomach. Hard. “You ungrateful bitch!” I curled up on the floor. Felt my organs twist. He was still screaming. “Worthless! Just like your dead mother! Trash, both of you!” He reached for the tire iron. That’s when Silas showed up. He kicked my father off me. Pulled me up. Checked my injuries. “Where’d he hit you?” I shook my head. He took off his jacket. Draped it over my shoulders. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” That night, he didn’t leave. Slept on the busted couch in the shop. The next day, he had my father hauled off by the cops. He said: “Maeve, I’ll take care of you from now on.” I believed him. I really believed he’d be the one person I could count on forever. Turns out, that kind of thing can just disappear.

At the last mock competition before Sectionals, I placed first overall. Silas scored dead last. He crumpled his score sheet into a ball and tossed it in the trash. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not competing at Sectionals anyway.” Lyla was right there, gazing up at him with worship in her eyes. “Silas, you’re so amazing.” He grinned, pinched her cheek. “Obviously. I’m going home to run the family business.” I walked past them. Silas called out. “Maeve.” I stopped. “Still pissed about the grant?” I didn’t answer. “I know it sucked for you. But you saw Lyla’s situation. He needed it more than you did.” He walked up to me, voice softening. “Take the card. The PIN is your birthday. Whatever you need for training, just tell me.” He actually believed money could fix everything. Could erase what he did to me. Could buy back what I lost. “I don’t need it,” I said flatly. “Here we go again.” Irritation crept into his voice. “When are you going to drop this pathetic pride thing? You make, what, minimum wage at the shop? I’m offering you more than you’d earn in a lifetime.” Lyla walked over, tugging at his sleeve. “Silas, don’t say that to her. She’s just… not used to it yet.” She turned to me, pity dripping from her eyes. “Maeve, I know you resent me. But I was truly desperate. My stepmom, she’s… she’s not human.” Her eyes went red again. I watched the performance. All year, I’d watched it. Over and over. She always played the victim in front of Silas. And I was always cast as the villain. “Silas promised he’d make it up to you,” Lyla said, like she was the lady of the house making an announcement. “Whatever you want, just tell us.” I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. I actually laughed. First time in days. Silas blinked. “What’s funny?” “I’m laughing because you two deserve each other. A match made in hell.” I said it, turned, and walked away. Silas shouted behind me. “Maeve! Get back here!” I didn’t look back. That night, Bree sent me a photo. Silas and Lyla at a karaoke bar. He was singing into a mic. She was curled up against him, beaming. In the background, their friends held up a banner: *Congrats Lyla on the Grant! Silas + Lyla Forever!* Bree texted: *Don’t look at this. She’s not worth it.* I turned off my phone. Tossed it aside. Picked up my training journal. Started reviewing my jumps, one by one. Drowning in the work was the only way to stop thinking.

A week before Sectionals, the rink closed for the holiday break. Everyone else was out celebrating. Or cramming in last-minute practice at private facilities. I was still at the pro shop. One afternoon, Silas showed up. He pulled his Porsche right up to the front door, music blasting so loud the windows rattled. He got out, leaned against the door, and waved me over. “Maeve, come here.” I didn’t look up. He frowned, walked over. “I’m talking to you.” He reached for my hand, saw the grease, and pulled back. “Go wash up. You’re coming with me.” “Where?” “Lyla wants to go to the coast. You’re coming too.” I straightened up. “I’m not going.” “Throwing a tantrum again?” He clicked his tongue. “I came all the way here to get you. Don’t be ungrateful.” “I said no.” “Why?” “I need to train.” “Train?” He laughed like I’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “You could sleepwalk through Sectionals and still medal.” He paused, then added, “Come on. Think of it as a break. Lyla said she wants to make peace with you.” “There’s nothing to make peace over.” Silas ran out of patience. “Maeve, I’m asking you one last time. Are you coming or not?” “No.” He stared at me for a few seconds. Then he smiled. “Fine. Have it your way.” He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and threw it at my feet. Bills scattered across the dirty floor. “That’s your paycheck for the month. I already paid your boss. Take it and stay out of my sight.” I looked at the money on the ground. Didn’t move. “Not enough?” He pulled out another wad. “How about now?” Frank, the shop owner, came out from the back. He saw the scene and rushed over. “Mr. Kensington, what’s going on here? Let’s all calm down.” Silas didn’t even glance at him. He kept his eyes locked on me. “Pick it up.” I still didn’t move. Lyla got out of the car. She hurried to Silas’s side, tugging his arm. “Silas, stop. You’re scaring her.” She crouched down, picking up the bills one by one. “Maeve, please don’t be mad at Silas. He’s just doing this for me.” She held the money out to me, tears shining in her eyes. “Please come with us. I don’t want to be the reason you two are fighting.” I looked at her. Then at Silas. There was no guilt on Silas’s face. Not even a flicker. He thought he was doing me a favor. He thought he had the right to decide everything for me. Including my dignity. I stepped around them both and walked into the back room. Silas’s voice followed me, dripping with contempt. “See? That’s her problem. Give her an inch and she spits in your face.” Then the roar of the Porsche engine. Tires on gravel. Gone. Frank came in, sighing. “Kid, don’t take it to heart. That’s just how he is.” He picked up the bills from the floor and pressed them into my hand. “Keep it. Your situation at home, you need the money.” I held the cash. It still smelled like Lyla’s perfume. I walked to the sink, turned on the faucet, and scrubbed my hands over and over. Until my skin turned raw and red. Then I stopped. That night, my father showed up again. He took the money. Smashed up some of the shop equipment. I called the cops. They took him away. Again. On his way out, he jabbed his finger in my face. “You ungrateful little bitch! Calling the cops on your own father! You’ll rot in hell!” I watched the police car disappear down the road. My heart was perfectly still. So this is what it feels like. When everyone in your life turns their back on you.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202607022PEJ0w3cn1 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni592710”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

The Pack Elder frowned at me. “Maeve, the Academy slot you earned by ripping through three rounds of death matches soaked in your own blood, why is someone else’s name on it?” I found out on the last day of the posting. My Royal Guard Academy recommendation, the one I’d torn my body apart to earn, had been signed over by Silas. To Lyla Voss. An Omega with no combat record. I found Silas outside the main hall, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed. “Lyla’s pack was wiped out,” he said without looking at me. “She has nothing. No protection, no rank. Without the slot, she’s dead.” “You’re strong enough to fight your way in through the The Blood Trials” I stared at him. Silent. Jaw locked. He frowned, reached into his jacket, and pulled out a leather pouch heavy with gold coins. He tossed it toward me. “Fine. I’ll fund your training for the next four years. Private instructors, weapons, potions, all of it. Consider it me buying your slot. Happy now?” I looked at the pouch on the ground between us. So that was it. The slot I’d bled for. The midnight hunts. The shattered bones that healed wrong. The hours sparring until my muscles tore from the bone. In his eyes, it was just a bag of coins. A charity toss to a stray. My inner wolf snarled. I forced her down. I didn’t pick up the pouch. I turned and walked away. Outside, it started to rain. Silas’s voice went cold behind me. “What the hell is your problem now? You scavenge leftover bones at that meat shop every day for scraps. I’m handing you gold and you’re acting like you’re above it?” My steps slowed. I turned my head. Looked at his face through the blur of rain. Fifteen years of loving him. Fifteen years of thinking he was mine. It all rotted through in that single moment. So I smiled. “Sure. Think whatever you want.” … I’d barely made it back to the meat shop when Bree’s voice crackled through the mindlink. Maeve, I just heard about the roster. How the hell is Lyla on it? Did Silas do this? I let out a bitter laugh. I talked to him. What did he say? He said he bought my slot. Silence in my head. Then Bree’s voice came back, raw with rage. He’s a piece of shit. I said nothing. What are you doing right now? Skinning elk. Stop skinning elk! Go to the Elder Council and raise hell! That slot is yours! Do you not remember what you sacrificed for it? I shook my head, kept working the knife. It won’t matter. How can it not matter? It’s a royal decree! If Silas can override it once, he can override it again. His father is the Alpha. The Elders won’t go against them. More silence. Finally Bree said, I just heard from the other females. Silas booked the grand feast hall for Lyla. Full celebration. The whole pack is invited. Okay. Maeve… I gotta go. Customer just walked in. I shut the mindlink. A wolf in human form walked into the shop with a fresh kill that needed butchering. I grabbed the carcass and got to work.

The next morning, I went to the pack hall to file my paperwork for the The Blood Trials In the corridor, I ran into Silas and Lyla. Lyla was clinging to his arm. The second she saw me, she ducked behind him like a scared pup. “Silas, I’m scared.” He stepped in front of me, brow furrowed. “Maeve, don’t intimidate her.” I moved to walk around them. He grabbed my wrist. His Alpha aura flared, pressing down on me like a stone wall. “What’s your attitude? Lyla didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t have a choice! Do you have to make a scene and embarrass the whole pack?” I yanked my hand free. My wolf bristled under my skin. “Move.” My voice was sharp. Wolves in the corridor turned to look. Lyla’s tears spilled over. “Maeve, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. If you’re still angry, you can hit me. I deserve it.” She stepped toward me, arms open, chin tilted up to expose her throat. A textbook Omega submission pose. Silas yanked her back into his chest, glaring at me. “Look what you’ve done to her! Maeve, when did you become this cruel?” Whispers started around us. “That’s the she-wolf from the meat shop, right?” “I heard she was supposed to get the Royal Academy slot, but Lyla got it instead.” “I mean, look at her face. Cold as ice. Who’d want her in their pack?” “Lyla’s so sweet. If I were Silas, I’d pick her too.” I ignored them all. Looked only at Silas. “I’ll say it one more time. Move.” He didn’t. He shoved me instead. “You’re apologizing to Lyla. Right now.” I stumbled back two steps. Hit the stone wall. Pain shot through my spine. I looked up at him. He looked back. Not a trace of warmth in his eyes. We grew up together. He was twelve when his father sent him from the capital to this border pack. A young Alpha pup with too much pride. Got jumped by a group of older wolves his first day. I was the one who grabbed a silver-tipped blade and scared them off. After that, he followed me everywhere. He hated the blood and grime on my hands. But whenever someone mocked my hearing, my dead right ear from a childhood injury, he’d bare his fangs and fight until they submitted. He said: “Maeve, I’ve got you from now on.” “You can’t hear out of one ear? Fine. I’ll be your other ear.” “When I become Alpha, you’ll be my Luna. We’ll rule this pack together.” Now he was shoving me into a wall. For an Omega he’d known for one season. Lyla sobbed harder in his arms. “Silas, forget it. Let’s just go. It’s all my fault.” He rubbed her back, voice going soft. “It’s not your fault.” He shot me one last look, pure warning, Alpha dominance rolling off him in waves, then walked away with his arm around her. I stood there for a while. Then straightened up and kept walking. On the way to the Elder’s office, I passed the announcement board. Lyla’s portrait was pinned in the center. Below it, the recommendation read: Exceptional potential. Orphaned Omega. Remarkable resilience. I almost laughed. I remembered what it was like, going back to the meat shop. My father, reeking of moonshine, hand already out. “Where’s the money?” I ignored him. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head into the wall. “I’m talking to you! You deaf?” My right ear heard nothing. My left ear rang from the impact. “I don’t have any.” “Bullshit. That Alpha pup is loaded! You’re always hanging around him. What’s a few coins? You hiding it from me?” He slapped me across the face. Started digging through my pockets. I shoved him off. He kicked me in the stomach. Hard. Even crippled, even with one leg half-gone from the border wars, he was vicious. “You ungrateful bitch!” I curled up on the floor. Felt my organs twist. He was still screaming. “Worthless! Just like your dead mother! She-wolf trash, both of you!” He reached for the iron hook on the wall. That’s when Silas showed up. He kicked my father off me. Pulled me up. Checked my injuries. His wolf was growling low in his chest. “Where’d he hit you?” I shook my head. He took off his cloak. Draped it over my shoulders. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” That night, he didn’t leave. Slept on the floor of the shop. The next day, he had the pack enforcers drag my father to the holding cells. He said: “Maeve, I’ll take care of you from now on.” I believed him. I really believed he’d be the one person I could count on forever. Turns out, that kind of thing can just disappear.

At the final combat trial before the Open Assessment, I placed first overall. Silas placed dead last. He crumpled his scorecard and tossed it into the fire pit. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not fighting in the Assessment anyway.” Lyla was right there, gazing up at him with worship in her eyes. “Silas, you’re so amazing.” He grinned, pinched her cheek. “Obviously. I’m inheriting the pack. Why would I need to fight?” I walked past them. Silas called out. “Maeve.” I stopped. “Still pissed about the slot?” I didn’t answer. “I know it sucked for you. But you saw Lyla’s situation. She needed it more than you did.” He walked up to me, voice softening. “Take the gold. I left three hundred coins with the vault guard under your name. Just tell him who you are and it’s yours.” He actually believed money could fix everything. Could erase what he did to me. Could buy back what I lost. “I don’t need it,” I said flatly. “Here we go again.” Irritation crept into his voice. “When are you going to drop this pathetic pride thing? You earn, what, scraps at the shop? I’m offering you more than you’d see in a lifetime.” Lyla walked over, tugging at his sleeve. “Silas, don’t say that to her. She’s just… not used to it yet.” She turned to me, pity dripping from her eyes. “Maeve, I know you resent me. But I was truly desperate. My old pack, they… they left me to die.” Her eyes went red again. The scent of distressed Omega poured off her. I watched the performance. All season, I’d watched it. Over and over. She always played the wounded pup in front of Silas. And I was always cast as the big bad wolf. “Silas promised he’d make it up to you,” Lyla said, like she was the Luna of the pack making an announcement. “Whatever you want, just tell us.” I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. I actually laughed. First time in days. Silas blinked. “What’s funny?” “I’m laughing because you two deserve each other. A match made in hell.” I said it, turned, and walked away. Silas shouted behind me. “Maeve! Get back here!” I didn’t look back. That night, Bree sent a messenger with a sketch from the feast. Silas and Lyla at the grand feast hall. He was standing at the head of the table, raising a goblet. She was curled up against him, beaming. In the background, pack members held up a banner made of stitched hide. It read: Congratulations Lyla on the Royal Slot! Long live Silas and Lyla! A note from Bree was tucked behind it. Don’t look at this. She’s not worth it. I tossed the sketch into the fire. Let the silence fill the room. Picked up my training blade. Started running drills, one strike at a time. Drowning in the work was the only way to stop thinking.

A week before the Open Assessment, the training grounds closed for the sacred hunt festival. Everyone else was out feasting. Or cramming in last-minute sparring at private dens. I was still at the meat shop. One afternoon, Silas showed up. He shifted back to human form right outside the front door. Still breathing hard from the run. He leaned against the doorframe and waved me over. “Maeve, come here.” I didn’t look up. He frowned, walked over. “I’m talking to you.” He reached for my hand, saw the dried blood under my nails, and pulled back. “Go wash up. You’re coming with me.” “Where?” “Lyla wants to visit the coastal pack. You’re coming too.” I straightened up. “I’m not going.” “Throwing a tantrum again?” He clicked his tongue. “I came all the way here to get you. Don’t be ungrateful.” “I said no.” “Why?” “I need to train.” “Train?” He laughed like I’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “You could skip training entirely and still crush half the candidates.” He paused, then added, “Come on. Think of it as a break. Lyla said she wants to make peace with you.” “There’s nothing to make peace over.” Silas ran out of patience. “Maeve, I’m asking you one last time. Are you coming or not?” “No.” He stared at me for a few seconds. Then he smiled. “Fine. Have it your way.” He pulled a leather pouch from his belt and threw it at my feet. Gold coins scattered across the dirty floor. “That’s your wages for the month. I already paid your boss. Take it and stay out of my sight.” I looked at the coins on the ground. Didn’t move. “Not enough?” He tossed another pouch. “How about now?” Old Frank, the shop owner, came out from the back. He saw the scene and rushed over. “Alpha Kensington, what’s going on here? Let’s all calm down.” Silas didn’t even glance at him. He kept his eyes locked on me. “Pick it up.” I still didn’t move. Lyla climbed down from the carriage behind him. She hurried to Silas’s side, tugging his arm. “Silas, stop. You’re scaring her.” She crouched down, picking up the coins one by one. “Maeve, please don’t be mad at Silas. He’s just doing this because of me.” She held the gold out to me, tears shining in her eyes. “Please come with us. I don’t want to be the reason you two are fighting.” I looked at her. Then at Silas. There was no guilt on Silas’s face. Not even a flicker. He thought he was doing me a favor. He thought he had the right to decide everything for me. Including my dignity. I stepped around them both and walked into the back room. Silas’s voice followed me, dripping with contempt. “See? That’s her problem. Give her an inch and she spits in your face.” Then the sound of paws hitting dirt as he shifted and ran. Gone. Frank came in, sighing. “Kid, don’t take it to heart. That’s just how he is.” He picked up the coins from the floor and pressed them into my hand. “Keep it. Your situation at home, you need the money.” I held the gold. It still smelled like Lyla’s rose oil. I walked to the basin, turned on the pump, and scrubbed my hands over and over. Until my skin turned raw and red. Then I stopped. That night, my father showed up again. He took the gold. Smashed the drying racks and the salting barrels. I sent word to the pack enforcers. They came and dragged him away. Again. On his way out, he jabbed his finger in my face. “You ungrateful little bitch! Reporting your own father to the enforcers! You’ll rot in the earth!” I watched them haul him down the road. My heart was perfectly still. So this is what it feels like. When everyone in your life turns their back on you.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260702OSzLRgrtKd 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni413907”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

On the day I tried on my bonding gown, my sister Celeste said she wanted to help me decide. When I stepped out of the fitting room, Celeste was adjusting the silver-patterned collar pin for Ronan Blackridge, the Alpha no wolf in Blackridge Pack dared defy—the man I was supposed to bond with. I had just opened my mouth to say, “Let me,” when the stylist smiled and stepped toward Celeste.“This way, future Luna. Let’s try your styling over here.” I stopped short. Ronan did not correct her. Celeste only smiled shyly and leaned into him. My childhood sweetheart, Kieran, walked past me, lifted his camera, and started taking pictures of them. I stood there, stunned, like an outsider. Most of Kieran’s shots were of Celeste and Ronan. There wasn’t a single frame of me, the woman who was actually supposed to stand beside him under the full moon. Celeste sounded so natural, as if she were the one about to become Luna. “Elowen, bring me that bouquet.” When Ronan saw that I was silent, he came over and gently took the flowers from my hands. Those golden eyes of his, eyes that had once silenced rebellious wolves in the Elders’ Hall, were unusually soft now. “Elowen, why are you spacing out? Go pick the invitation design first. I’ll come over after we finish the photos.” Kieran lowered the camera just enough to show one eye from behind the lens. “Elowen, move two steps to the side. You’re blocking the light.” I moved away without a word and stood in the corner. In that moment, I finally understood how unnecessary I was. If this ceremony didn’t need me, then I wouldn’t be there. … I quietly picked up my bag from the shoe bench and pushed the door open. The wind chime rang once. No one called after me. I looked back. Celeste was turning in front of the mirror, and Ronan stood behind her, fixing the bow at her waist. Kieran held up his camera. “Yes, yes, that angle. Perfect.” The shutter clicked five or six times in a row. I turned around and walked out of the store. When I got into the car, my phone screen lit up. It was a message from the bonding ceremony planner. Miss Ashborne, the ceremony is coming up soon. Have you chosen the invitation design? Before I could reply, another message came in. Or you could let your sister choose for you. She has excellent taste. The car was silent. So quiet that I could hear myself breathing. One breath after another, as if I were counting something. What was I counting? The number of times I had been forgotten in this relationship? I typed three words and sent them. Whatever she wants. And I meant it. Whatever Celeste wanted. In the end, Ronan would listen to her anyway. The planner replied almost instantly. Got it. Thank you. I stared at those words and thought the planner must have been relieved. The bride’s decisions were always being changed. They were probably tired of revising the plans over and over, too. It was easier to let my sister decide for me. Before I could put my phone down, messages kept popping up. Kieran was uploading photos to the group chat one after another. I opened one of them. His composition was beautiful. Light fell across their faces. Ronan wore a black ceremonial suit with the silver wolf emblem of Blackridge Pack pinned to his shoulder, while my sister Celeste leaned against him as if they were the lovers about to bond beneath the full moon. I closed my eyes. My heart hurt so much I could barely breathe. I had tried so hard. I had poured so much care into this ceremony, trying to make every detail perfect. I wanted a perfect ceremony. I wanted to prove that I was worth being remembered by the man I loved. But in the end, I was still outside the frame. My phone lit up and went dark, then lit up again. Messages kept coming into the group chat. I didn’t reply. No one cared. I sent my assigned pack escort back, then drove alone to the apartment I rented. On the refrigerator was a sticky note I had written myself. Seven days until the bonding ceremony. I peeled it off, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the trash.

The next morning, I opened my phone. There were 99+ messages in the bonding ceremony group chat. I looked at the only voice message where Celeste had tagged me and hesitated for a moment before tapping it open. “Elowen, I changed the ceremony song for you. The one you picked was too depressing. A bonding ceremony should feel lighter.” Right after that came Ronan’s text. Yeah, the original one wasn’t right. I think Celeste’s lighter choice is better. The original one was not right? I had spent an entire month choosing that song. It was the song my parents had played at their wedding. Every time I heard it, my eyes would sting. My parents had died too young, and I had wanted them to be present in another way. Ronan knew that. Celeste knew that, too. And still, they thought it was too depressing. In the group chat, Celeste was still saying, “Elowen never likes making decisions. We can just decide these things for her.” Ronan replied with one word. Okay. I stared at that word and did not move. Messages flowed past one after another like running water. No one noticed that Elowen was in the group. No one noticed that Elowen had said nothing. My participation in this bonding ceremony was zero. I opened my chat with Ronan. Our conversation was still stuck on yesterday. I had told him, I’m a little nervous. He had sent back a head-patting sticker. As for the fact that I had left early, he had not even messaged me privately to ask what happened. He had only tagged me in the group chat last night. What happened? Were you so nervous you left early? No one answered. That didn’t matter either. Celeste posted a photo with the caption: Elowen, the styling shoot went so well today. The Luna gown is confirmed! And just like that, everything was brushed aside. Then they moved on to talking about laurel decorations, bonding invitations, and the ceremony backdrop. Suddenly, I felt that my place was not even extra. Extra meant I had at least existed once. I felt as if I had never been there at all. While I was packing my things, Celeste suddenly video-called me. I answered. On the screen, someone was doing her makeup. “Elowen, you’re taking forever. The styling team still hasn’t been confirmed, so I booked one myself. I’m testing the look first.” I looked at Celeste sitting in front of the mirror. I wanted to say something, but I did not know what to say. Two weeks ago, I had told her that my friend would personally do my bonding makeup. But it was as if she could not hear my thoughts at all. She simply decided everything for me. Had I never questioned her? Had I never been unhappy? Had I never stood up for myself? I had. But in the end, I was always given the same sentence. “Elowen, you’ve always been more mature than she is. Don’t argue with her over this.” Kieran had known me the longest, yet he always stood on her side. Then Ronan appeared and pursued me fiercely. That Alpha, known among wolves for being calm, powerful, and impossible to defy, would personally drive me home late at night and say I was adorably dazed. I thought he liked that quiet part of me. But after he met Celeste, his taste seemed to change. Without me realizing it, his words changed, too. He began saying that girls should be lively and decisive. One day, I could not hold it in anymore. “Can you stop being so close to Celeste all the time? Can you pay attention to boundaries?” I thought he would understand. Instead, he took it lightly, smiling as he rubbed my hair. “Boundaries? After you and I complete our bond, Celeste will also be under Blackridge Pack’s protection. Do you want me to treat her like a rogue at our borders?” I fell silent. Of course I did not want them to be enemies. “You’re more mature than she is. You should be more understanding.” That sentence had weighed on me for so many years that, for the first time, I felt like I could barely breathe. They had forgotten that I was only two years older than she was. I wanted a gift, too. I wanted someone to ask me, Do you like this? But no one ever cared.

I called my landlord and told him I was moving out today. On the other end, he asked, “You’re really leaving? You’ve lived there for more than four years.” Yes. Four years already. When Ronan and I first confirmed our relationship, he wanted me to move into Blackridge Pack’s Alpha residence with him. The main house was heavily guarded, home to his most trusted Beta, Gamma, and core warriors. Celeste said I should keep some private space for myself and suggested that I live alone. So I rented an apartment near Blackridge’s downtown offices, hoping I would see him more often. Ronan agreed. Sometimes, after he finished dealing with Pack matters, he would come here late at night and stay until morning. This place was filled with the sweetness of our early love, then with our arguments, our silences, and the sight of his back as he hurried away. But now, I had gathered enough disappointment. I had made up my mind to leave. “Yes,” I said. “I’m moving today.” The landlord sighed and told me to leave the keys in the mailbox. Not long after I hung up, the door was pushed open from outside. Ronan and Celeste walked in, laughing and talking. Celeste turned back and smiled at him. “You promised. After my lease ends, I can stay in your Alpha residence for a few weeks after the bonding. Save me the room in Moonshadow East Wing, the one with the bay window. And change the curtains to the pink I like.” I stood in the middle of the living room, wondering if I had heard her wrong. She said it so naturally, as if how long she would stay and how our home after the bonding would be decorated were both things she had the right to decide. Ronan did not object. His smile was indulgent. “Elowen won’t mind.” “Elowen always takes care of me. Of course she won’t mind.” I stood there, and something in my throat seemed to loosen. “What if I say I do mind?” The air went quiet for two seconds. Celeste froze. Perhaps it was the first time I had ever refused her. Before she even spoke, her eyes were already red. Ronan’s voice carried a note of reproach. “Elowen, what’s wrong with you? Usually you can’t wait to give her everything. Now you’re arguing over a single room?” “I’m not arguing,” I said. “Then what do you mean?” He frowned. “Celeste’s lease happens to be ending. She’ll only stay for a few weeks. She’s your sister, not some outsider we need to guard against. The Alpha residence is so big. What’s wrong with letting one more person stay for a while?” “That is supposed to be our home after the bonding,” I said. “The home meant for Blackridge Pack’s Luna. Who exactly is bonding with you?” Ronan choked on that. Celeste said softly, her eyes red, “Elowen, I just wanted to be closer to you. If you don’t want me there, forget it. I won’t move in.” Ronan looked at me with blame in his eyes. “Look at you. One sentence and you’ve hurt her this much. She’s your sister. Can’t you think about her?” “Then who thinks about me?” I lifted my head. “You personally arranged for her to enter Blackridge Pack’s External Affairs Office. You approved resources for her far beyond what others at her level receive. She hardly has to worry about anything. And me? I only have—” “Enough!” Ronan’s expression changed. “Be reasonable. She’s your sister. I only took special care of her because of you. Do you really have to be so petty?” Petty. That word again. I smiled and said nothing. Celeste tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “Ronan, stop. Elowen is probably just in a bad mood.” He patted her hand, and his tone softened. “Elowen, I’ve already decided. Celeste moving in is a good thing. You two sisters can stay close even after the bonding.” I nodded. Whatever. It was your home anyway. I would not be living there. Ronan let out a breath of relief. Celeste wiped the corner of her eye, though no tears had fallen, and smiled again. I turned to continue packing. Behind me came Celeste’s voice. “Can I really change the curtains to light pink?” Ronan’s voice was full of amusement. “Whatever you like.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202607024cBLXVUGKF 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni486961”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

I never lend money to anyone. Not because I am stingy, but because my family has passed down an ancient warning: anyone who borrows money from my hand must repay it before the third midnight bell tolls. Otherwise, the Reaper will come in person to collect the debt. My father called it the Reaper’s Debt. I was ten the first time I witnessed the curse. My classmate Ethan borrowed five dollars from me. He said he wanted to stop by the corner convenience store after school for a soda and a pack of baseball cards. The next day, when I reminded him to pay me back, he turned his empty pockets inside out and laughed like it was nothing. “It’s five dollars, Nora. Your family is loaded. Are you really that desperate for pocket change?” On the third afternoon, Ethan was found drowned in the shallow drainage canal behind the school. The deepest part of that canal did not even reach an adult’s knees. The police ruled it an accident. The second time, I was twelve. My best friend, Madison, borrowed a hundred dollars from me to buy concert tickets. On the day she was supposed to pay me back, she laughed at me in front of our lockers. “Real friends don’t chase each other for money. If you’re asking me for it, then you never saw me as a friend at all.” On the third morning, Madison was found collapsed beside the school bus stop. There were no external injuries. No history of heart disease. The medical examiner listed the cause of death as sudden cardiac arrest. When I was sixteen, our neighbor Caleb said he was sick and needed money for asthma medication and antihistamines. He borrowed two hundred dollars from me. Because it sounded urgent, I gave it to him. That night, I went to his house on purpose and reminded him not to forget the three-day deadline. Otherwise, I told him, the Reaper might come for him. “Oh my God, the Reaper? Could you be any more childish?” he laughed at me through the screen door. “Once the money is in my hands, it’s mine. If your Reaper wants it, tell him to come take it himself.” On the third day, Caleb suddenly swelled all over in the school cafeteria. He dropped to his knees and clawed at his own throat with both hands, as if an invisible hand had closed around his windpipe. I watched him suffocate to death. The paramedics said it was a rare and severe case of anaphylactic shock. Three times. Every time, on the third day. Every person who died had borrowed money from me and refused to pay it back. I was terrified, but I had no choice but to believe it. The Reaper’s Debt was real. After that, I never lent anyone a single cent again. When I kept pressing him, my father told me that one of our ancestors had once tricked the Reaper during a plague, using a silver coin to redeem the lover who should have died. The Reaper did not take his life immediately. Instead, he cursed his bloodline. From then on, if anyone owed money to our family and refused to repay it within three days, what they owed would no longer be money. It would be a life. So when my college roommate, Vanessa Reed, asked me to lend her money for a limited-edition skincare set, I refused without hesitation. “Sorry. I don’t lend money.” Vanessa was one of the most popular cheerleaders at school. She was sitting in front of the vanity in our dorm room, touching up her lipstick. When she heard my answer, she paused. “What did you just say?” “I can’t lend you money.” For two seconds, the dorm went silent. Then Chloe, another one of our roommates, burst out laughing. “Here she goes again with that story about the Reaper coming to collect debts.” Kayla laughed too. “Borrow from her and don’t pay her back in three days, and you die. So scary.” Vanessa snapped her lipstick shut. Then, without warning, she grabbed my phone and unlocked the screen with my face. “Give it back!” I lunged for her, but Chloe caught my wrists from behind. Kayla shut the dorm door. Vanessa opened my banking app with practiced ease. Her lips curved smugly. “You have five thousand dollars sitting here. Why are you so cheap?” “That’s my living expenses for the semester.” “You don’t want these pictures getting out, do you?” She suddenly held her phone in front of my face. On the screen were several photos of me in the shower. My mind went blank. “When did you take those?” “That doesn’t matter.” She slowly swiped through the photos. “What matters is that if I press send, they will be on the school forum and in every fraternity group chat on campus.” Chloe gave a low whistle. “With a body like that, you really shouldn’t be hiding it.” Kayla covered her mouth and giggled. “Maybe you’ll be campus famous by tomorrow.” Heat rushed into my face. “Tell me the verification code.” Vanessa’s thumb hovered over the send button. “Or I let all of Westbridge University enjoy these pictures for you.” In my mind, Ethan’s pale, bloated face, Madison’s body beside the bus stop, and Caleb’s desperate hands clawing at his throat flashed one after another. I could not give her the money. But I also knew Vanessa was not bluffing. In the two months since school had started, she had already used secretly recorded videos to drive another girl out. “Time’s up.” I closed my eyes and gave her the code. The next second, five thousand dollars disappeared from my account. Vanessa looked at the transfer confirmation and smiled with satisfaction. “You said people who owe you money die if they don’t pay you back in three days?” “It’s not a joke. You have to give it back before midnight on the third day.” She laughed even harder. “Then I can’t wait to see how your Reaper plans to kill me.” I said nothing else. She would never believe me anyway. The next day, Vanessa was perfectly fine. On the morning of the third day, she came back with the skincare set and deliberately piled the packaging boxes on my desk. “Looks like your Reaper forgot to show up for work.” The dorm filled with laughter. For the first time, I truly breathed in relief. But by noon that day, Vanessa had not come back. I sent several messages to my roommates asking where she was. No one answered. Chloe mocked me for not being able to live without her. Kayla said I was probably developing Stockholm syndrome. That night, the dorm supervisor told me Vanessa had submitted an emergency leave request. She said something had happened at home and she needed to be gone for a few days. My heart dropped. The Reaper had come. For the next two days, Vanessa never appeared. Then, on the afternoon of the fifth day, several police cars suddenly drove onto campus. Crime-scene tape sealed off the central lake. The dive team searched the water for four hours. At dusk, a female body was lifted to shore in a black body bag. The dead woman was Vanessa Reed. The Reaper’s Debt had come true once again. The other two girls from my dorm and I were taken to campus police for questioning. Chloe and Kayla pointed at me almost at the same time, their faces white with fear. “It was Nora! She must have killed Vanessa!” “Nora said herself that if Vanessa didn’t pay her back within three days, she would die!” “She predicted Vanessa’s death. Who else could the killer be?”

To prevent us from influencing each other’s statements, we were taken into separate interview rooms. The detective assigned to question me was Adrian Morgan. He was around forty, composed, his eyes sharp. He pushed a cup of water toward me. “Start from the beginning. What exactly happened between you and Vanessa?” I told him everything. Vanessa taking my phone. The private photos she used to threaten me. The forced transfer. And the Reaper’s Debt. Morgan did not interrupt once. Only after I finished did he slowly lean back in his chair. “So you’re saying anyone who borrows money from you and doesn’t return it within three days dies?” “I don’t want them to die. It’s a curse.” “What’s the curse called?” “The Reaper’s Debt.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re investigating a murder, Nora. I need facts, not a ghost story.” “I am telling you the facts. I didn’t kill Vanessa.” His tone suddenly hardened. “A twenty-year-old girl had her face destroyed and was dumped in a lake. Before she disappeared, you told her she would die if she didn’t pay you back within three days. Now she’s dead. How do you expect me to understand that?” I did not know how to make him believe me, so I told him about the three deaths from before. Ethan drowned. Madison died suddenly. Caleb suffocated from an allergic reaction. All three cases had been ruled accidents. All three had happened on the third day after they borrowed money from me. “That’s why, after high school, I never lent money to anyone again.” Morgan stared at me. “If you knew what could happen, why did you give Vanessa the money?” I broke down and clutched my head. “I didn’t have a choice! She filmed me without my consent and threatened me with the pictures. You can check her phone.” Just then, an officer knocked and stepped inside. “The body has been recovered. The medical examiner wants you there.” Morgan stood and had me brought along to confirm the identity. The central lake was crowded with students.The body lay on a silver waterproof sheet, the black body bag already unzipped.I looked only once before my stomach turned violently. The dead woman’s face had been severely damaged. Her long hair was tangled with lake weeds. Her skin had swollen pale from the water. The female medical examiner crouched beside the body. “Preliminary time of death is more than forty-eight hours ago. The facial damage may have occurred after death, or during the agonal stage. We’ll know more after a full autopsy.” I swallowed without meaning to. Morgan noticed immediately. “You’re nervous.” “I’m scared.” “Scared of the body? Or scared we’ll find something?” At that moment, the medical examiner suddenly looked up. “There’s something here.” Using tweezers, she removed a clear waterproof pouch from the inside of the body’s jacket. The pouch had been sealed tightly. Inside was a cream-colored envelope. Half an hour later, the envelope was delivered to the station as evidence. Morgan put on gloves and opened it in front of me. There was only one sheet of paper inside. The first line was in Vanessa’s handwriting. If I die, investigate Nora Sinclair. Before I could read the rest, Morgan folded the paper away. “Nora Sinclair, from this moment on, you are no longer just a witness.You are being formally detained on suspicion of murdering Vanessa Reed.” The interrogation room lights were much harsher than the interview room’s. My hands were restrained on the table. Morgan spread the letter in front of me. “Vanessa wrote that ever since she took your money, she felt someone following her. She dreamed of a person in a black robe standing beside her bed. She also kept having impulses to jump into the lake.” He tapped the paper with one finger. “You’re majoring in behavioral science. Nearly all of your psychology grades are As. Is it possible you used long-term suggestion to push her toward death?” I almost laughed from anger. “If I were that powerful, why would I let her leave behind a letter pointing straight at me?” Silence fell over the interrogation room. Then, from outside the door, came a shrill cry. “Vanessa! My daughter!” A woman was screaming in the hallway. “You’ve already caught the murderer! Why do you still have to touch her body? I won’t allow an autopsy! I want to take my daughter home whole!” Morgan frowned. Then he suddenly looked at me again. “You say the curse is real, right?” “Yes.” “Then I’ll test it myself.” I froze, but I understood what he intended. “Lend me twenty dollars. I’ll write you an IOU and refuse to pay you back for three days.” “No!” “Why not?” “You’ll die.” “I don’t believe in the Reaper.” His voice was calm. “And for the next three days, I’ll stay in the station with paramedics on standby. If something happens to me, your story holds up. If nothing happens, then you must admit someone used this so-called curse to kill Vanessa.” I shook my head wildly. But Morgan had already written the IOU and signed his name. “This is your chance to prove you’re innocent.” In the end, I could only reach into my pocket with trembling fingers, take out twenty dollars in cash, and hand it to him. Morgan accepted the money and said quietly, “The clock starts now.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260702TTUjj7Mjev 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni813309”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

My reunion with my ex-boyfriend of three years happened during a high-profile SWAT raid. He was the youngest, most promising detective captain in the department. I was a serial killer fleeing across state lines. The moment our eyes met, Ethan Carter froze. “Chloe… how is it you…?” I seized the second of his distraction, spun around, and tried to sprint for the window. But one of his deputies fired. A bullet tore through my calf, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. In the interrogation room, Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. He slammed his fists on the table, roaring at me: “Four lives, Chloe! Four human beings! How could you do this?!” “Tell me it’s a mistake! Tell me! Please, just say it!” Looking at the agonizing pain in his eyes, I suddenly laughed. “You’re right. It is a mistake.” “It’s not four.” I leaned forward, my voice a chilling whisper. “It’s five.” “You care so much about your wife, my former best friend Lily Harrison, don’t you? How have you not noticed that she’s been missing?”

Ethan’s face turned deathly pale in an instant. His hands shook violently as he pulled out his phone. The lock screen, which used to be a picture of me, had been replaced by his wedding photo with Lily. He pressed the call button. A second later, a sweet, upbeat ringtone echoed from my jacket pocket. With a mocking smile, I slid out Lily’s blood-stained phone and answered the call. “Hey, darling.” “Why didn’t you come to save me? I’m so scared…” Ethan lunged across the table, grabbing my collar with terrifying force. “What did you do to Lily?!” Just as I was about to suffocate, the deputy captain rushed in and pulled him off me. “Captain, calm down! This is a public transparency livestream!” Ethan gritted his teeth, his chest heaving. “Where is Lily?” I held up my hands. My handcuffs rattled loudly. “I don’t know.” “Since you were smart enough to catch me, I’m sure you’re smart enough to find her.” “Chloe Miller!” Ethan’s eyes were so red they looked ready to bleed. “Lily treated you like her own sister! When you were bullied in high school, she was the one who stood up for you!” “When your mother was dying in the hospital, Lily was the one who pulled strings to get her into the private ICU. She took care of her every single day, doing more than you ever did!” “She even emptied her own savings account to pay for your mom’s chemotherapy when you couldn’t afford it!” “Is this how you repay her?!” On the large screen broadcasting the live feed, the comment section was exploding. [Wait, is she talking about Dr. Lily from Lincoln General Hospital?] [I know her! She’s literally an angel. My dad was broke when he was sick, and Dr. Lily quietly paid for his meds out of her own pocket.] [Good people always die young. This sick murderer needs to fry in the electric chair!] Facing the digital onslaught of accusations, I let out a cold laugh and turned my head away, refusing to look. My indifference pushed Ethan over the edge. He ripped a silver crucifix pendant off Lily’s phone and slammed it onto the table in front of me. “Three years ago, just because Lily talked to me a few times to discuss your mother’s treatment, you got paranoid. You accused her of trying to steal me, and you stabbed her in the stomach with a knife!” “I had to lock you up. But Lily was too kind-hearted. She signed a waiver to drop the charges so you wouldn’t go to prison! And what did you do? You ran away, vanished without a trace, leaving her worried sick!” “She bought this crucifix for you. She prayed for your safety every single day. And you repaid her by murdering four people, and now her?!” Ethan’s voice cracked with pure hatred. “Do you have any idea that while you were in custody, your mother passed away?” “Lily dragged her injured body, fresh from surgery, to try and save your mother. She stood at the operating table for twelve hours straight without a single drop of water. When your mother didn’t make it, Lily collapsed crying, and she paid for the entire funeral out of her own pocket!” “She blamed herself! She took time off work every single year on the anniversary of your mother’s death to visit her grave. She did everything for you, Chloe! And you slaughtered her!” At the mention of my mother, my eyes finally welled up with uncontrollable tears. Seeing my emotional crack, Ethan relaxed his fists. The hand that had once knelt before me to slip a promise ring onto my finger now gently touched my shoulder. “Chloe, where did you hide Lily?” “If you show remorse and cooperate, I can talk to the DA. I can get you a plea deal.” I looked up at him, my tears turning into a bitter, mocking laugh. “A plea deal?” “Ethan, you are a cheating piece of trash. Who gave you the right to offer me mercy?”

Ethan’s face turned bright red with embarrassment and anger. The deputy captain, who had been taking notes, couldn’t hold back anymore. He stood up and yelled: “That’s complete bullshit!” “After you stabbed Dr. Lily, Captain Carter felt so guilty that he only took care of her out of obligation! He was terrified she would sue you and ruin your life!” “After you vanished, Captain Carter used all his vacation days just to look for you across the country. Even when Dr. Lily came to the station, it was only to share leads about where you might be!” “You were gone for three years. Captain Carter’s father was on his deathbed, and his last wish was to see his son get married. Dr. Lily felt sorry for the old man, so she suggested a fake wedding just to make a dying man happy!” Ethan let out a long sigh and turned his back to me. The deputy captain pointed a shaking finger at my face. “Because we couldn’t find you, and Dr. Lily was single, we all begged Captain Carter to just legally register the marriage to give her some security. She sacrificed her reputation for him!” “And now you frame him as a cheater? Chloe, you are utterly delusional!” Ethan turned around, his face a portrait of profound grief. “Chloe, do you want to know the real reason why Lily and I had that wedding?” He walked over and threw a diamond ring onto the table. “Lily said you hated her because of a misunderstanding. She wanted to use the wedding to lure you out so we could explain everything to you.” “Every single detail of that wedding was designed based on your favorite things. The dress you always wanted, the ring you picked out—they were all waiting in the dressing room for you.” “As for Lily, she wore a cheap, rented dress and a plastic prop ring just to get through the ceremony. When you didn’t show up, she posted the wedding video on TikTok, hoping you’d see it and come home.” The live chat flooded the screen again. [Oh my god, I remember that TikTok! People were mocking her in the comments because her dress looked so cheap and the ring was way too big.] [I was one of those trolls… I thought her husband didn’t love her. I feel sick. I’m so sorry!] [This is heartbreaking. Dr. Lily was a saint.] Looking at the ring on the table, my mind drifted back to three years ago. Ethan had just proposed to me. I had just graduated with my master’s degree and accepted a dream job offer. My mom’s condition was stabilizing, and she was about to be discharged. I was so happy, so full of hope for the future. I had called Lily immediately. “Lily! Ethan proposed! You have to be my maid of honor! I want you to be there to watch me walk down the aisle!” Lily had laughed and agreed over the phone. The moment I hung up, the first thing I searched for wasn’t my wedding dress, but her maid of honor gown. If only I hadn’t seen what I saw. If only I hadn’t walked into that room. The ring that was supposed to be on my finger had been replaced by cold, heavy handcuffs. The man who once held me and whispered that I was his entire world was now standing on the opposite side of the glass. He was demanding that I reveal the location of the monster who destroyed everything. “Chloe, if you have even a shred of humanity left, tell me where Lily is.” I closed my eyes tightly, a single tear slipping down my cheek. “The cemetery columbarium. Section A, Row 3, Niche 2. What you’re looking for is right there.”

The police moved fast, cordoning off the cemetery within minutes. But when they forced the locker open, there were no ashes. Only a thin, lightweight manila envelope. Ethan slammed the envelope in front of me. “Chloe, are you playing games with us to buy time?” The deputy captain urged him, “Captain, let me take over the interrogation. Dr. Lily might still be alive! You and the team need to go search the area. Every second we waste here could cost her her life!” As Ethan hesitated, I tilted my chin toward the envelope. “Did you actually look at the files inside?” Ethan pulled on his gloves and ripped the envelope open. Inside was a signed organ donor consent form. The edges of the paper were stained with dried, dark red blood, but nothing was more painful to look at than my mother’s shaky signature at the bottom. Ethan frowned. “What is this supposed to mean, Chloe?” “Do you think your mother was forced to sign this by Lily? I was there! It wasn’t like that at all!” “Lily didn’t even bring the paper. A nurse on duty mentioned the organ shortage program, and your mother volunteered to sign it herself!” I finally lost my composure. I screamed, my voice cracking: “Volunteered?! Ethan, did you throw your five years of detective training into the trash?!” For the first time, the live chat started to turn. [Wait… is it possible the doctor manipulated the mom into signing the donor card, and then let her die on purpose?] [This is giving me chills. If that’s true, I totally understand why Chloe went on a killing spree. Who wouldn’t?] [She killed four other people, right? Weren’t those victims all connected to the hospital’s transplant unit? Oh my god, we are getting close to the truth.] [I’m crying for Chloe. Her best friend murdered her mother for profit, her detective boyfriend married the killer, and now he’s interrogating her. This is sick.] Ethan noticed the shift in the comments. His face turned incredibly ugly. Just as he was about to argue, the interrogation room door was kicked open. “Captain! We have a major lead!” “Chloe Miller has been operating in South America for the past three years. According to international intelligence, she is a key player in an underground human organ trafficking ring!” The announcement hit the room like a bomb. Ethan stared at me, his jaw clenching so hard I thought his teeth would shatter. “Chloe, your acting is superb. I almost fell for it.” “You were the one who brainwashed your mother into signing that form, weren’t you?” “You traffic organs! And to frame Lily, you didn’t even spare your own mother! Are you even human?!” The live chat went wild. [What the hell! Chloe is the boss of an organ ring?!] [So she forced her mom to sign, let her die, framed the doctors, and then murdered everyone who knew the truth to silence them?!] [Holy shit. This is the plot twist of the century. She is a literal demon.] Looking at the comments, I laughed so hard that tears of blood felt like they were streaming down my face. Ethan could barely stand straight. “Chloe, do you have anything to say for yourself?” I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “What’s left to explain? You’ve already written my sentence.” The deputy captain stood up. “Take her back to the holding cell. All units, mobilize! Find Dr. Lily!” Ethan didn’t move. As the guards dragged me past him, he reached out his hand, hesitating. But in the end, he said nothing. After forty-eight hours of intense search, the police found what was left of Lily Harrison. She was buried in the plot right next to my mother’s grave. Her body was twisted and broken, all her limbs and her spine snapped and shattered. When the forensics team laid her out, they realized she had been buried alive, forced into a desperate kneeling posture of penance and begging. The deputy captain’s eyes turned red. “Chloe is a monster…” Ethan fainted on the spot. The medical examiner’s report concluded: “Every single one of the victim’s viable organs had been surgically harvested.” I hadn’t lied when I said I didn’t know where she was. Because every piece of Lily Harrison was in a different zip code.

When the trial began, Ethan sat in the gallery dressed in black. He sat among the weeping families of the other victims. I kept my eyes down as the prosecutor read the charges. “…The defendant, Chloe Miller, did willfully and with premeditation commit five counts of first-degree murder, resulting in immediate death.” “Furthermore, the defendant has been linked to over 480 counts of international organ trafficking over the past three years, causing catastrophic societal harm.” “Defendant, you may now present your defense.” I remained silent. The gallery erupted into furious screams. “What defense?! She’s a parasite!” “My son studied for twelve years to become a surgeon! She slaughtered him and tried to ruin his reputation by calling him a smuggler!” “She killed five doctors! Hang her! Give her the chair!” They held up framed photos of the deceased, their faces twisted in grief. Dozens of camera flashes blinded me. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it was clogged with rusted iron. It was my old trauma. Whenever my emotions peaked, my selective mutism would paralyze my vocal cords. Lily knew this. Ethan knew this too. That was why, when we were kids, Lily always had to speak up for me when I was bullied. I looked toward Ethan in the crowd. But he was swallowed by the angry mob. Suddenly, raw eggs and small rocks flew over the security barrier, pelted against my forehead. Blood trickled down into my eyes, turning my vision a blurry scarlet. I could only look at the judge and shake my head. When the judge handed down the verdict—death by lethal injection—the courtroom erupted into cheers. The families sobbed and hugged one another. The judge asked one last time, “Defendant, do you understand your right to appeal?” I still couldn’t speak. I nodded, then shook my head. The gavel slammed down. It was over. I closed my eyes. Lily, you won. … As the guards led Chloe away, Ethan instinctively took a step forward. But he was instantly swamped by the cheering families dragging him out of the courtroom. Reporters shoved microphones into his face the second he stepped outside. “Captain Carter! You caught the monster who killed your wife! How do you feel about the death penalty verdict?” “We heard the killer was your college sweetheart. How do you process such a betrayal?” Ethan felt a suffocating pressure in his chest. He couldn’t squeeze out a single word. Suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind. Three years ago, when Chloe supposedly stabbed Lily… she hadn’t said a single word in her defense then, either. The more desperate Chloe was to explain, the more silent she became. Ethan’s face went pale. “Back to the precinct!” he yelled, turning to the deputy. “Pull the evidence from three years ago—the knife Chloe used to stab Lily, and Lily’s original medical report! Now!” The deputy was confused, but seeing the sheer panic in Ethan’s eyes, he didn’t dare hesitate. When the medical files were delivered, Ethan read every single syllable. When he finished, his eyes were bloodshot. He screamed: “File an emergency stay of execution! Chloe’s case is a setup!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “432648”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Five years of living together, and Ethan only gave me $300 a month for groceries. He told me his take-home pay was only $1,500 a month, and that we needed to pinch pennies so we could save up for a wedding. I believed him. I never bought a dress that cost more than fifteen dollars. In the scorching summer, I didn’t even dare to turn on the AC because of the electric bill. Then, while doing the laundry, a custom jewelry receipt slipped out of his suit pocket. It was for a $10,000 diamond ring. I was ecstatic for exactly ten seconds. Until I saw the recipient’s name. It belonged to a woman I had never heard of. I opened his laptop. His bank statements were wide open on the screen. His actual monthly salary was $10,000. And he was transferring $8,000 of it to that woman every single month. The measly $300 he threw my way was the price tag he put on our eight-year relationship. When he came home that night, I asked him about the ring. He paused for a second, then gently stroked my hair. “I just ordered it for a coworker, babe. You’re overthinking.” But the moment he stepped into the kitchen, his phone on the table lit up. The caller ID was a single red heart emoji, followed by a word: Wife.

Ethan didn’t get home until almost eleven o’clock. He kicked off his shoes, saw me sitting at the dining table in the dark, and walked over to gently brush a stray hair from my forehead. “Why are the lights off?” “Saving electricity,” I replied. He let out a soft laugh and pulled a sandwich out of the fridge. “You didn’t make dinner tonight?” I looked him straight in the eye. “Ethan, what was that custom jewelry receipt in your pocket?” His hand holding the sandwich froze. Only for a split second, before his face relaxed into a natural smile. “Oh, that? I ordered it for a coworker. Did you go through my pockets?” “It fell out when I was doing the laundry,” I said. “$10,000. Your coworker must be incredibly generous.” He looked down and chuckled, sliding the sandwich toward me. “Well, she makes good money.” He said it so casually. So casually that I almost believed him. But the image of that $10,000 monthly income statement was burned into my brain, searing hot and painful. As he turned to walk into the kitchen, his phone on the table flashed. The contact name: A red heart emoji, followed by—Wife. I looked down and slowly ate the sandwich. I didn’t say another word. The next day was Saturday. Ethan left early in the morning, claiming his team had to go into the office to audit some urgent data. I sat on the bed for a long time before pulling out my phone to look up the address I had secretly copied down. The Pinnacle Apartments. One of the most expensive luxury high-rises downtown, where even rent was sky-high. I had never even bought a cup of coffee in that neighborhood. Then, I searched the name Chloe Sterling on Twitter. A beautifully curated profile popped up. Her feed was filled with her aesthetic lifestyle. Gym sessions, luxury travel, trendy cafes, and designer outfits. Every single photo radiated the effortless ease of someone who was thoroughly pampered. Her latest post was from yesterday. The caption read: My hubby worked late but still took me to that exclusive sushi spot I’ve been dying to try. Waited two months for this reservation, totally worth it! At the edge of the photo, I caught a glimpse of Ethan’s profile. He was feeding her a piece of premium bluefin tuna, a tender smile on his face. Just last week, I had asked him if we could get sushi. He had said it was a waste of money and that we could just make it at home. I scrolled down. A month ago, she had posted: Woke up to a brand-new car! Hubby thought my old ride wasn’t safe enough, so he bought me a BMW in cash! How did I get so lucky? A white BMW was parked in a pristine underground garage, with a massive bouquet of roses sitting in the passenger seat. My car was a beat-up second-hand sedan. It had broken down several times, and Ethan had never once offered to help fix it. When I said I wanted to buy a new one, he told me that taking the subway was cheaper, so why waste money on a car? I scrolled further back. Three years ago: Happy three-year anniversary! Hubby upgraded all our home appliances! He says a home is the most important place, so we have to live comfortably. Three years. Ethan and I had been together for eight years, living together for five. Which meant, in our fifth year together, he had started a whole new life with someone else. From our fifth year to our eighth year. He had laid next to me in our cramped bed, whispered, “Audrey, just wait a little longer,” while in another home, he was living the exact life he had promised me but never delivered. I locked my phone, leaned against the headboard, and stared at the peeling paint in the corner of the ceiling. It had leaked during last summer’s storms. Ethan had said hiring a contractor was too expensive and that he’d patch it up over the weekend. A year had passed. It was still unpatched. At four in the afternoon, I drove over to The Pinnacle Apartments. I parked across the street, watching the building through my car window. The lobby was bathed in warm, golden light. A doorman in a crisp uniform stood at the entrance. I looked down at my pilled hoodie and faded jeans. I didn’t even have the courage to step inside. I sat there all afternoon. As dusk began to fall, Ethan’s car pulled out of the underground garage. A young woman was sitting in the passenger seat. She was resting her head on his shoulder. Ethan had one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently holding her fingers. There was a look on his face I had never seen before. Relieved, happy, completely carefree. When he was with me, he was always frowning. He was always tired, always stressed, always complaining about pressure. Their car turned the corner and vanished. I started my engine and slowly drove away. At nine that night, my phone buzzed. It was an unknown number. “Audrey, you sat in your car outside The Pinnacle for three hours this afternoon. The building security showed me the surveillance footage.” “You’re Audrey Miller, right? The girl Ethan told me about?” My fingertips turned ice-cold. A second message popped up immediately after. “Don’t worry, I don’t mean any harm. But I think there are some things we need to talk about.” I texted back: “I’m not his ex. I’m his girlfriend. We never broke up.” The other side was silent for a few seconds. “Audrey, you probably don’t know this yet.” “But in Ethan’s mind, you guys ended a long time ago.”

The messages kept popping up on my screen. Ethan told me you have severe depression and that you’re mentally unstable. He was terrified of breaking up with you. He was scared you’d do something crazy. That’s why he’s been dragging this out, giving you a little allowance every month just to keep you calm and safe. I stared at the words “keep you calm,” and a wave of nausea hit my stomach. I typed out a reply: “How much did he tell you about me?” Chloe replied instantly. Everything, honestly. About how your mother had a mental breakdown and jumped off her building. About how you were bullied as a kid, and how you tried to slit your wrists in high school. Ethan said he’s been carrying you on his back this whole time, but he’s just so exhausted. He said you’re like a black hole. No matter how much love he pours in, it’s never enough. My fingers hovered over the screen. I couldn’t type a single word. Those were the dark secrets of my past, the abyss I had spent over a decade crawling out of. It was the past I had finally overcome so I could sleep without nightmares, walk alone at night without shaking, and look in the mirror and smile. Ethan had told me that my scars weren’t a burden to him. He had promised he would never tell a soul. And now, a woman he had known for less than three years knew exactly where my deepest scars were, better than I did. Chloe kept typing. Audrey, I didn’t mean to hurt you. In the beginning, Ethan didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend. When he finally confessed, I agreed to wait for him. But we truly love each other. Look, this is what he got me for my birthday last month. An image popped up. A Tiffany necklace resting next to a bouquet of red roses. The card read: To my darling Chloe, Happy Birthday. Here’s to the rest of our lives together. My birthday was also last month. Ethan had sent me a Snapchat: Happy birthday! I’ll make you some noodles tonight. Not even a single flower. After he made the noodles, he went straight to his room, saying he was tired. I had sat alone in the living room, eating those noodles, actually feeling like I was the luckiest girl in the world. Chloe sent a voice note next. I tapped it. A sweet, high-pitched voice filled the quiet room. “Audrey, Ethan only loves me. He says you’re too clingy and that you make him feel like he’s suffocating. Just let him go, and let yourself go too, okay?” I locked my phone and walked out onto the balcony. The night wind whipped against my face, freezing cold. The streetlights below cast a dim, yellow glow. People were walking briskly, none of them stopping. I stood there for a very long time, until my shoulders grew completely numb. I went back inside and sent her one final message. “Thank you for telling me all this.” She replied instantly: So you’re willing to back off now? I didn’t answer. Two days later, Ethan quietly unlocked the front door and walked in. A luggage tag was still attached to his duffel bag, but he had already changed into clean clothes. Seeing me sitting on the couch, he smiled and handed me a small paper bag. “Audrey, the business trip was so hectic, but I managed to grab you these cookies.” I took the bag. They were cheap, five-dollar supermarket cookies. He went on a trip and brought me a five-dollar box of cookies. And for that other woman, a $10,000 diamond ring. I looked at his face and asked him, word for word. “Ethan, where exactly did you go on this business trip?” “Seattle,” he said smoothly. “Then why did Chloe post a picture of the two of you in Hawaii two days ago?” The living room went dead silent. The smile on Ethan’s face completely shattered. He slowly sat down on the other end of the couch, clasped his hands together, and bowed his head. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “So you know.” It wasn’t a question. It was just a cold, tired sigh.

“Yes,” I said. “I know everything.” Ethan rubbed his temples and looked up at me. There was no panic in his eyes, and certainly no guilt. There was only the calm, resigned look of someone who was glad the act was finally over. “Audrey, I’m tired of lying to you.” “Chloe and I have been together for almost three years.” “She… she’s the one I actually want to marry.” When those words hit my chest, it felt like a blunt blade hacking me right down the middle. “And what about me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Ethan’s eyes flickered. “You?” He let out a bitter, soft laugh. “Audrey, it’s not that I don’t care about you. But you’re just too heavy.” “Every single day with you, I’ve had to walk on eggshells. I had to manage your emotions, your illness, your fears.” “Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?” “I never asked you to carry me,” I said, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve been seeing my therapist. I’ve been taking my meds. I was getting better.” Ethan shook his head. “You think you were getting better, but I wasn’t.” “Every day I come back to this cramped, 400-square-foot studio, looking at your anxious face, these faded curtains, and that leaking ceiling…” “I felt like I was suffocating.” His phone buzzed again. He glanced at it. He didn’t answer, but his lips involuntarily twitched into a small smile. “Then why didn’t you just break up with me?” I demanded. “You could have just told me. Why did you have to go behind my back?” Ethan took a deep breath, finally letting his real thoughts slip out. “Because I was terrified you’d kill yourself.” He stared at me, his gaze cold and clinical. “Your mother did the exact same thing. She decided life was too hard and just jumped off a building.” “You’re just like her. The moment something goes wrong, you look for an exit.” “In high school, when you slit your wrists and called me in the middle of the night… my hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the phone.” “I never wanted to go through that nightmare again.” “So I stayed. I humored you. I sent you $300 every month just to keep you fed and stable.” “But Audrey, that isn’t love.” “That was—” He paused. “A chore.” I sat frozen, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. I was fourteen when my mother jumped. A crowd had gathered at the bottom of the building. I had rushed downstairs so fast I lost a shoe. She was lying on the pavement, blood seeping from her hair, her eyes half-open. After that, I had to transfer schools three times. At every school, kids would point at me and whisper—”Her mom was crazy,” “Her mom jumped,” “She’s going to lose her mind too.” Only Ethan had stood by me. He had held my hand tight and told me, “Audrey, you are not your mother. You’re going to be okay.” He was the one who dragged me out of the dark. And now, he stood before me, ripping open my deepest, most sacred wound just to use it as an excuse for his betrayal. My throat tightened, my voice shaking violently. “Ethan, you promised me. You promised you would never use my past against me.” He shrugged. “I’m not using it against you. I’m just stating facts.” “Chloe is different. With her, I can breathe. I can be happy. I don’t have to watch her every second, terrified she’s going to snap.” “Your anxiety, your illness, your trauma… it’s too heavy.” “I can’t carry it anymore.” The doorbell rang. Ethan stood up to answer it. Chloe was standing outside. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress and immediately wrapped her arm around his. She glanced at me, her eyes filled with condescending pity. “Ethan, are you okay? I was worried you couldn’t handle her on your own.” I stood up, holding myself steady against the table. “Don’t worry,” I said, looking her in the eye. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.” Ethan squeezed Chloe’s hand and looked back at me. “Audrey, I didn’t want to hurt you. Let’s just end this civilly, okay?” I forced my trembling legs to stand straight. “Okay.” They left together. The moment the door clicked shut, I collapsed onto the floor. My entire body shook uncontrollably. But I didn’t cry. I couldn’t shed a single tear.

For four whole days, I didn’t step outside that door. The curtains were drawn tight. My phone sat on the far end of the couch, and every time it buzzed, my body flinched. Chloe’s messages were relentless. I knew they were from her because the screen lit up every few minutes. On the fifth day, I finally picked up the phone. Thirty-two unread messages. They were screenshots of her conversations with Ethan. Baby, I already booked the wedding dress appointment for next month. Are your bags packed? I’ll pick you up for our flight tomorrow morning. I miss you. FaceTime tonight? Every word was like a red-hot iron rod, searing into my numb flesh. She had also sent a paragraph of text. Audrey, he saw that you turned off your phone and said he’s finally relieved. He said he hates it when you throw fits. He told me that when you have an episode, nobody can stop you—just like your mother. Just like your mother. Those words spun in my head a thousand times. I threw the phone against the wall. Then, I crawled over to pick it up. The screen was cracked, but it still lit up. I curled up in the corner of the kitchen, staring at the small pot on the stove that Ethan used to make oatmeal for me every morning. A sticky note was still stuck to the fridge in his handwriting: Remember to eat breakfast. Eight years. I remembered him sitting in the back row of our high school classroom, sliding his lunch into my lap. I told him I wasn’t hungry. He said, “If you don’t eat, I don’t eat.” He was the one who helped me report my stepfather, Frank. The day the police dragged that monster away after six years of abuse, Ethan had sprinted over and wrapped me in his arms. He had said, “Audrey, no one will ever hurt you again.” “I’ll protect you.” His eyes had been red, his chin resting on my head, his chest warm and comforting. That was the first time in my life I felt like living might actually be worth it. But now. He had taken those precious memories and turned them into weapons to discard me. I didn’t know when he had started playing the savior to my face while calling me a psycho behind my back. On the night of the sixth day, I took a shower and put on clean clothes. I turned on the lights and began packing my things, one by one. I only took what was mine. My toothbrush, my towels, and the dark red cardigan my grandmother had knit for me before she passed away. The lamp Ethan bought me? Left behind. The letters he wrote me? Left behind. The framed photo of us? I turned it face down on the table. I zipped up my suitcase and walked to the entryway. I stuck a sticky note on the shoe rack. Eight years. I’m returning them to you. I placed the apartment keys right next to it. When I stepped out, the hallway was dead silent. The elevator dinged open. I rolled my suitcase inside and pressed the button for the lobby. Before the doors closed, I took one last look at the place I called home. And then, I never looked back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “432647”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I loved collecting limited-edition mystery boxes. Once, I finally managed to snag a super rare, limited-edition figure. Overjoyed, I placed it gently on my husband’s office desk. He glanced at it, then casually tossed it into the trash can. “You’re twenty-six, Clara. Still playing with toys? Grow up.” My heart sank. Left with no choice, I listed the figure on eBay. Almost the second it went live, it was bought by a local woman. She messaged me, saying she lived nearby and asked if I could hand-deliver it to her place. The moment I stepped into her house, I froze. An entire wall of custom glass display cases met my eyes, packed to the brim with incredibly rare, astronomically expensive designer toys. The hostess smiled at me warmly. “My younger boyfriend bought all of these for me,” she said softly. “I know I’m thirty-eight, but I still love these mystery figures. My boyfriend says that in his eyes, I will always be his little girl. He supports whatever I want to buy.” As she spoke, the front door clicked open. A man walked in, carrying two cups of Starbucks. He walked straight over to her, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. The moment I turned my head and saw his face, my entire body went numb. This man, who spoiled a thirty-eight-year-old woman like a queen, was the exact same husband who, just yesterday, had sneered and told twenty-six-year-old me that I was being childish. Ethan Smith!

Our eyes met. In an instant, every drop of blood drained from his face. “Ethan, honey, you’re staring. You’re scaring her.” Vivian wrapped her arm around his intimacy, then handed one of the coffee cups to me. “She’s Clara. She’s the girl who sold me the limited-edition figure.” Ethan forced himself to look calm. He gave me a stiff nod. “Hello.” But the very next second, he turned his head to Vivian, his voice softening into a gentle tone I had never heard before. “You don’t need to buy secondhand figures anymore. Whatever you want, I’ll buy you brand new ones.” Vivian playfully shook his arm. “Secondhand is fine! Otherwise, my heart aches thinking about how you have to wait in line for hours just to get those limited releases.” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug deep into my palms. Yet, I felt absolutely no pain. Just now, Vivian had bragged that this entire wall of toys had been sourced by her boyfriend from all over the world. One particular figure caught my eye, making my vision blur with tears. It was an overseas exclusive released a year ago. I had wanted it for so long. Back then, Ethan had been on a business trip to that exact country. I hadn’t even dared to ask for the expensive figure itself; I had only quietly begged him to bring back a matching commemorative sticker. He had frowned coldly and snapped at me: “I have a mountain of work to handle on this trip. I don’t have time to mess around with useless little things.” It turned out he wasn’t busy. He just didn’t want to spare even a shred of patience for me. For Vivian, he was more than willing to stand in line for an entire day just to get her the rarest collectibles. “Oh, Clara, I actually have a duplicate of one figure. Let me give it to you. I’ll go grab it from the bedroom.” The moment Vivian turned and ran into the hallway, Ethan lunged forward. He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the corner near the entrance. “Go home first,” he hissed in a low, panicked whisper. “Wait for me there. I’ll explain everything when I get back.” My voice cracked. “Explain what? Explain how you’ve been keeping another woman behind my back? Explain your affair?” A flash of sheer panic crossed his eyes. He shoved me out the front door and slammed it shut. My wrist throbbed where he had grabbed me. Tears finally spilled over, hot and uncontrollable. Through the heavy wooden door, their voices drifted out. “Where did Clara go? I didn’t get to give her the toy yet.” “I just had her leave first.” “She’s just a stranger selling secondhand toys. There’s no need to get close to her anyway.” Then came the unmistakable, soft sound of them kissing. I leaned against the hallway wall, my stomach churning with sudden, violent nausea. I almost charged back in to scream at them, but a sudden realization hit me. My period was a month late. I stumbled all the way home, my hands shaking as I tore open a pregnancy test in the bathroom. Two bright red lines. I was pregnant. Before I could even process the news, the front door lock clicked. Ethan was back. In a panic, I wrapped the pregnancy test in toilet paper and shoved it deep into the trash can. He walked into the living room. Seeing my deathly pale face, he frowned slightly. “Why do you look so pale? Are you sick?” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I coldly flinched away from his hand. “About earlier, it’s not what you think,” he said, drawing his hand back with a sigh. “Vivian is my childhood neighbor. When I was young and my family was struggling to put food on the table, her family practically kept me fed.” “She has congenital heart disease. Before her mother passed away, she begged me to take care of her. I only agreed to pretend to be her boyfriend to keep her stress-free so she can recover.” “So you cheated on our marriage and bought her a whole wall of designer toys just to keep her ‘stress-free’?” My chest felt so heavy, as if a massive boulder was crushing my lungs. I could barely breathe. “Ethan, I only just realized that you have another home out there!” “And she is eight years older than you!” I couldn’t control the volume of my voice anymore. My entire body was shaking like a leaf. “You called me childish for liking these toys, but you flew across the globe just to fill an entire wall for her!” A flicker of guilt crossed Ethan’s eyes, and his tone softened slightly. “Alright, look. I always thought those toys were stupid anyway. If you want them so bad, I’ll buy them for you from now on.” “I’ll handle things with Vivian. She has a weak heart and can’t take any shocks. Do not go and make a scene in front of her.”

I stared quietly at this man I had loved for six years. Suddenly, he felt like a complete stranger. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” He assumed I was just throwing a tantrum. A disdainful smirk played on his lips. “Stop acting up. I’m only taking care of her. It’s not like I don’t love you. You’re the one who holds our marriage certificate. You’re my actual wife.” “Besides, you can’t survive without me anyway. Don’t mention divorce ever again.” “I have to go take Vivian to the movies now. Stay home and stop being so unreasonable.” The front door clicked shut softly behind him. I squeezed my phone, my fingers trembling as my vision blurred. Six years of dating. Three years of marriage. I had poured my heart and soul into this relationship, only to be told not to “make trouble” for his mistress. Before I could even catch my breath, a Snapchat message from Vivian popped up on my screen. I am so sorry about earlier. My boyfriend has a bit of a temper, so we couldn’t host you properly. I saved a mystery figure for you. Come over and get it whenever you’re free, okay? I tapped into her Instagram profile. I scrolled all the way to the bottom, reading through years of her posts. Every single caption was about Ethan. The figure collection I wanted was completely sold out worldwide, but Ethan contacted the manufacturer directly and had a custom set made just for me! My birthday surprise was a giant box of rare figures. He even skipped a massive business meeting just to wait in line for them. My sweet boy spoils me so much. I casually mentioned that I liked a celebrity-endorsed figure, and he had it delivered to me the next day. My man always keeps his promises. In every single photo, there were traces of Ethan. Years ago, to help Ethan secure his first big business contract, I had drunk myself to the point of vomiting at dinner meetings just to get the investors’ approval. All of that, just so he would occasionally have time to accompany me to a toy store. Yet, he always found the time to snatch up the latest releases for Vivian at the very first second. By the time I scrolled past her last post, the sharp pain in my chest had faded into a cold, hollow numbness. I typed back a reply: No need. I don’t want it. I didn’t care about the toys anymore. And Ethan? I didn’t want him either. I immediately contacted a divorce lawyer and packaged every single piece of evidence of his infidelity. That entire wall of figures in Vivian’s house had been bought using our joint marital assets. When we went to court, I wouldn’t leave them a single penny. That night, Ethan came home carrying a brand-new, freshly released luxury box set of figures. He held it out to me. “Look. Isn’t this the series you wanted for months?” I didn’t even look up. I continued folding my clothes. “Return it. I don’t want it.” The smile on his face slowly dissolved into irritation. “You literally cried begging me for this before. Now that I bought it, you’re pushing it away? Stop picking fights on purpose, Clara.” “I really don’t want it,” I repeated, my voice entirely flat. “What you owe me is never going to be paid back by a box of toys.” His face darkened completely. “Clara, is there ever going to be an end to this!” Right then, his phone rang. In his frustration, he accidentally hit the speakerphone. Vivian’s sobbing voice echoed clearly through the quiet room: “Ethan… my chest hurts so much. I can barely breathe…” Ethan’s face went pale. He spun around to rush out, swinging his arm back violently. His elbow slammed hard into my chest, throwing me violently to the floor. He didn’t even notice. My lower back collided painfully with the sharp corner of the nightstand. I gasped, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. The next second, a sharp, stabbing pain bloomed in my lower abdomen. “Ethan!” I grabbed the hem of his coat, my eyes red with sheer terror. “My stomach hurts so much… please, take me to the hospital first. I’m begging you…” He yanked his coat out of my grip with an impatient scowl. “Enough, Clara! Stop using these fake illnesses to compete with her! She is facing a real life-or-death emergency!” With that, he turned on his heel and rushed out. The pain in my abdomen grew excruciating. Something warm and wet began to trickle down my thighs. Using every ounce of strength left in my body, I dialed 911. By the time the ambulance rushed me to the hospital, it was too late. Because of the physical impact, I had miscarried. I lay on the cold hospital bed, my eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. My throat was so dry I couldn’t even squeeze out a single tear. While the agonizing D&C surgery was tearing my body apart, Vivian posted on Instagram. In the photo, she was nestled comfortably in Ethan’s arms while he leaned down, gently rubbing her chest. The caption read: Ethan was so scared. My heart actually didn’t hurt that bad, I just wanted to trick him into coming over to cuddle me. Tehehe, setting this post to “Hide from Ethan”! Seeing those words, the emotions I had bottled up for years finally shattered. I buried my face in the hospital pillows and sobbed hysterically. I had waited three years for this baby. And because of one petty lie from her, my child was gone! Not long after, another message from Vivian popped up. Clara, let’s meet up. You really have to take this figure, or I’ll feel too guilty to sleep. My fingers hovered over the screen before typing a single word: Okay. Perfect. It was time to lay everything out on the table. The next day, the moment I walked up to the entrance of the designated cafe, Vivian charged straight at me. Before I could even react, she raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.

Slap! The sound was deafening. “Clara, have you no shame?” Vivian’s eyes were bloodshot, her voice shaking with rage. “I genuinely wanted to be your friend, but you’ve been seducing my boyfriend behind my back!” I clutched my burning cheek, my ears ringing. She unlocked her phone and shoved the screen right in front of my face. It was a photo of Ethan and me holding hands, walking in the park a month ago. “I went through your Instagram and found out you two have been hooking up for ages!” “You selling me that figure and coming to my house was just an excuse to brag and hurt me, wasn’t it?” Her crying grew louder, drawing the attention of everyone around us. She clutched her chest, her knees bending as if she was about to kneel on the floor. “I’m begging you, please. My heart is weak. I can’t live without Ethan.” “Please let us go. I’ll give you my entire wall of toys, okay?” The crowd of onlookers began to whisper, pointing their fingers and aiming their phone cameras directly at me. “How shameless. Being a homewrecker and bullying a sick woman? Doesn’t she fear karma?” I took a deep, freezing breath. I raised my hand and slapped Vivian back with twice the force. “Your boyfriend?” My voice shook as I pulled our official marriage certificate out of my purse. “Ethan and I have been legally married for three years.” “As for you, every single toy in your house was bought with our joint marital assets.” “My lawyer has already prepared the paperwork. I will reclaim every single cent.” The crowd fell dead silent. Then, the whispers shifted: “Wait, they have a marriage certificate?” “So the sick woman is actually the mistress?” Vivian swayed on her feet, her face turning pale. “No… that’s impossible… Ethan told me he was single…” Before she could finish, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and shoved me aside. “Clara!” Ethan rushed forward, shielding Vivian protectively in his arms. The gaze he threw at me was filled with pure hatred. “Who gave you the right to hit her? You know she has a heart condition!” Vivian clung to his chest, whimpering softly. “Ethan, tell me the truth… are you married?” “Am I… am I the other woman?” Ethan hesitated for a single second. “No.” “She’s delusional. That marriage certificate is fake. She’s just a crazy stalker who has been obsessed with me.” Those words pierced through me like icy needles, freezing me in place. “Ethan, how can you lie like this? We are legally—” His face went completely cold. He grabbed Vivian’s hand. “Vivian, hit her back.” I stared at him in utter disbelief. “She put her hands on you first. Give her what she deserves. I will never let anyone bully my girlfriend.” His words gave Vivian all the confidence she needed. Slap! Another heavy blow landed on my other cheek. Vivian bit her lip, looking smug. “That’s what you get for lying and trying to be a homewrecker. You deserve it.” Then she looked up at Ethan, putting on a worried face. “But… how did she get such a realistic certificate? Forging legal documents is a crime. Should we call the cops on her?” A flicker of hesitation crossed Ethan’s eyes. The next second, he snatched the marriage certificate from my hands and ripped it into pieces. The white shreds fluttered to the dirty pavement like drops of cold rain. I remembered the day we got married. He had held that certificate like it was the most precious treasure in the world, kissing it over and over. “Clara, you’re finally my wife.” But in just three years, for another woman, he had torn our marriage to shreds. “It’s just a fake piece of paper anyway. Now let’s see what you use to spread your lies.” His voice was cold and final. The crowd erupted again: “So she really is a crazy stalker!” “What a psycho!” Ethan’s expression shifted slightly, and he seemed like he wanted to stop the crowd from crowding me, but Vivian grabbed his sleeve and collapsed. “Ethan, my chest… it hurts so much…” Before he could worry about anything else, he scooped her up in his arms. He threw a quick, cold glance at me before turning and running toward his car. The angry crowd surged forward. Shoves, curses, and kicks began raining down on me. But I couldn’t feel any pain. The blows felt distant, as if they were happening to someone else. My vision blurred, and I welcomed the darkness as I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Ethan was sitting beside me, holding my hand, his eyes bloodshot with exhaustion. “You’re awake? Don’t move. You have multiple soft tissue bruises. You need to rest.” “I’ve dealt with the people who attacked you. Don’t call the police. Let’s just let this go.” I slowly pulled my hand out of his grip and let out a dry laugh. “Mr. Smith, what is our relationship?” He paused, his brows furrowing. “What nonsense are you talking about? Of course we’re married.” My eyes burned, but I just laughed louder. “Married? Do we have a certificate?”

A flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by impatience. “Vivian has a heart condition. I had to say that at the moment. Why did you have to bring that paper out to provoke her in public anyway?” “Did you really want to watch her die right in front of you?” “It’s just a piece of paper. I’ll take you to get a replacement certificate once she’s stable.” It felt like my heart had been sliced open, letting the freezing winter wind howl through my chest. I gripped the hospital bedsheets tightly, barely able to breathe. “Ethan, let me go.” “Let’s get a divorce. I’ll step aside for both of you.” His breath hitched. A trace of panic flashed in his eyes, and his voice softened. “I had nothing when we started, Clara. You stayed with me through the worst of it. We are meant to be together for life.” “I’m only taking care of Vivian out of gratitude. As my wife, you should support me.” “Besides, if you hadn’t gone to confront her with the certificate, I wouldn’t have said those things.” “Just focus on resting. I’ll make this up to you.” He stood up and left, leaving the room in deafening silence. How pathetic. There were a million ways to repay a debt of gratitude, yet he chose the one that ripped my heart to shreds. I shook my head with a bitter smile, pulled the IV needle out of my hand, and discharged myself. My bags were already packed at home. The signed divorce papers were placed neatly in the center of his desk. As I was about to carry my suitcase downstairs, the loud sound of a drill echoed from the living room. A few construction workers were busy working on the wall. “Are you Mrs. Smith?” One of the workers smiled warmly. “Mr. Smith ordered us to install a custom, floor-to-ceiling glass display wall for your designer toys.” “He paid extra to ensure we used the highest quality materials. Your husband really spoils you…” Spoil me? I let out a mock laugh. I opened my phone, and Vivian’s latest Instagram post popped up on my feed. In the photo, she was flaunting a massive five-carat diamond ring on her ring finger. So glad my man finally cleared up the misunderstanding with that crazy stalker. We are going to be so happy. To all the irrelevant people out there, please disappear. The comment section was bustling. Someone asked about the wedding date, and she replied with a blushing emoji. Wedding is tomorrow! Every guest gets a limited-edition mystery toy as a party favor! I looked down at my own ring finger, where a cheap silver band sat. When his first business failed and he was completely broke, we had bought this ring from a street vendor for fifteen dollars. He had held my hand with tear-filled eyes, promising: “Clara, I can’t give you a proper wedding right now, but I will make up for every single thing I owe you in the future.” Now that he was incredibly wealthy and successful, he had all the money in the world to buy grand gestures—but they were all for someone else. The glass wall he promised me was never meant for me. And the diamond ring he promised was now on another woman’s finger. The front door opened, and Ethan walked in. He glanced at the near-complete glass wall. “Do you like it? I had them rush the installation just for you.” “Yeah.” “By the way,” he paused, his tone casual, “I’m going to hold a wedding ceremony for Vivian tomorrow.” “Her heart is failing fast. The doctors said she doesn’t have much time left.” “I just want to do a good deed and make sure she doesn’t leave this world with regrets.” I smiled softly. “I see.” “You’re… not mad?” He was taken aback, then a look of relief washed over his face. He quickly pulled out his phone and wired a large sum of money to my bank account. “Don’t worry, it’s just a fake wedding. Once it’s over, I’ll take you to get our marriage certificate replaced.” “Go buy whatever toys you want over the next few days. Fill up this wall. I’ll check on it when I get back.” I accepted the transfer and nodded. “Okay.” Before he could say anything else, his phone rang. Vivian’s voice came through, sweet and needy. “Ethan, come quickly! Help me choose my wedding dress…” Ethan immediately turned on his heel and rushed out. The workers packed up their tools and smiled. “We’re all done, ma’am. Are you satisfied with the result?” I thanked them and sent them on their way. Once they were gone, I went to the storage room, grabbed a heavy metal hammer, and walked back to the living room. I raised it high and smashed it hard against the glass wall. Shatter! With a deafening crash, spiderweb cracks shot across the expensive glass. One swing to shatter six years of devotion. One swing to destroy every ounce of love I had for him. One swing to end this broken marriage. “We’re done, Ethan.” I dragged my suitcase out the door. Before boarding my flight, I set a scheduled email to go off the next morning. Attached were my miscarriage report and the photo of the shattered glass wall. The email body contained only one sentence: I returned your toy wall. Happy wedding. I turned off my phone and boarded the plane. When I landed the next day and turned my phone back on, a barrage of missed calls and texts flooded my screen.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “432646”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

“Give me the baby.” The smell of blood still lingered in the delivery room. I lay weakly on the operating table, watching Sebastian Sterling lift our newborn daughter from my side and place her into Vanessa’s arms. She lowered her head with a smile and kissed the baby’s forehead. “Sebastian… she looks just like you.” “Sebastian… give me back my baby…” I screamed with the last bit of strength I had left. All I got in return was a cold glance from above. “Chloe, you were nothing more than a surrogate.” “The baby belongs to Vanessa. That’s your fate.” The door slammed shut behind them, shattering the ten years of love I had sacrificed everything for. After he left, a massive fire consumed the private recovery center. Now, I sit in the top-floor office of W Capital, watching the security footage as Sebastian charges into the burned-out ruins like a madman. He drops to his knees before a charred body, letting out a desperate, heart-wrenching scream. I lift my coffee, take a slow sip, and smile. “Mr. Sterling…” “Welcome to hell.”

Chloe’s POV A charity gala in London. The venue was incredibly luxurious. I wore a black haute couture gown, sitting quietly on a sofa in the corner. I was eight months pregnant, my belly heavily swollen, my face deathly pale. Not far away, in the center of the crowd, Vanessa Kent stood in a white dress, smiling sweetly. She held a beautiful boy of about three in her arms. “Mommy, I want that cake,” the boy pointed at the long dessert table, his voice clear. “Okay, sweetie. Mommy will get it for you,” Vanessa pampered him, leaning down to kiss his cheek. The socialites around them showered them with compliments. “You are so lucky, Mrs. Sterling. Sebastian spoils you to death. And your son is so smart and cute.” “Yeah, everyone in London knows Vanessa is the only woman Sebastian Sterling loves.” Hearing those words, my fingers tightened around my glass, my knuckles turning white. Mrs. Sterling? I, Chloe Vance, was Sebastian’s legal wife. And that boy calling Vanessa “Mommy” was Ethan. The son I carried for ten months. The son I spent a whole day and night in agonizing labor to bring into this world. But now, my own son called my enemy his mother. And I, his biological mother, could only sit in the corner like an invisible ghost, watching them play happy family. The click of high heels drew closer. Vanessa walked up to me, holding a glass of champagne. She looked down at my swollen belly, a smirk playing on her lips. “Chloe, why do you look so awful? Is the pregnancy too hard on you?” Vanessa’s voice was barely a whisper, meant only for the two of us. I didn’t look up. My voice was ice cold. “Get lost.” Vanessa didn’t get angry. Instead, her smile widened. “Sebastian said that once this baby is born, whether it’s a boy or a girl, I will raise it. He said I’m too weak to conceive, and since you’re so healthy, you should have more babies for me.” I snapped my head up, glaring at her. Vanessa flinched slightly at the coldness in my eyes, but she quickly recovered her smug, victorious look. “Don’t look at me like that. You know Sebastian would never have married you if it weren’t for the Vance family’s influence in Europe. You’re nothing but a surrogate to him.” “Shut up,” my voice shook. “What? Can’t handle the truth?” Vanessa laughed softly. “Chloe, so what if you hold the title of Mrs. Sterling? I am the one Sebastian loves. Your son calls me Mommy, and the baby in your belly will call me Mommy too. You get nothing.” Just then, the heavy doors of the ballroom pushed open. Sebastian walked in, dressed in a sharp, bespoke black suit. He was tall, his face cold and handsome, radiating a powerful, intimidating aura. The moment Vanessa saw him, her smugness vanished, replaced by a weak, fragile look. She swayed on her feet, as if she were about to faint. Sebastian rushed over, catching her by the waist. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” There was a rare note of panic in his deep voice. “I’m fine, Sebastian.” Vanessa leaned into his chest, her eyes red as she shot me a timid glance. “I just wanted to come over and check on Chloe. I think I said the wrong thing and upset her.” Sebastian’s cold gaze swept over to me. I sat there, my back straight. I met his gaze without explaining, without flinching. “Chloe,” Sebastian’s voice was low, laced with warning. “Vanessa is fragile. Don’t push her.” I found it almost laughable. Me? Pushing her? “Sebastian, which of your eyes saw me push her?” I asked coldly. Sebastian frowned. I knew he hated it when I spoke to him in this tone. After all, I used to be soft, gentle, my eyes always filled with love and a desperate need to please him. “You better behave yourself,” Sebastian let go of Vanessa and looked down at me coldly. “Remember your place. You are just a trophy wife. The children belong to Vanessa. Don’t cause any more trouble, or I won’t hesitate to send you back to the countryside estate early.” My heart felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing it, making it hard to breathe. This was the man I had loved for ten years. I took a deep breath, forcing down the bitterness, and let out a mocking laugh. “Fine,” my voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Since you care about her so much, Mr. Sterling, keep her on a leash. Don’t let her run around like a mad dog, biting everyone she sees.” “Chloe!” Sebastian snapped. People around us were starting to stare. Sebastian lowered his voice, his eyes dark and menacing. “Have you lost your mind?” “Yes, I have,” I stood up. Because of my large belly, my movements were slow. I looked him dead in the eye. “I lost my mind the day I married you.” Without another glance at them, I turned and walked toward the exit. Behind me, I heard their voices. “Sebastian, did I make things difficult for you?” Vanessa asked, her voice cracking. Sebastian’s tone softened. “No. I’ll have someone take you and Ethan home first.”

Chloe’s POV The Sterling Countryside Estate, London. The autumn wind was freezing, making the dry leaves rustle in the dark garden. I sat by the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, staring at the night. Sebastian had forced me back here to wait for labor. Meanwhile, he, Vanessa, and my son Ethan lived in a luxury penthouse in downtown London. This place was nothing but a gilded cage, keeping me, the forgotten Mrs. Sterling, locked away. The next afternoon, the roar of a car engine echoed outside. Sebastian’s Maybach pulled into the courtyard. The door opened, and Vanessa stepped out, holding Ethan’s hand. Sebastian followed closely behind. Seeing that tiny figure, my eyes immediately welled with tears. I hadn’t seen Ethan in three months. Supporting my lower back, I hurried out into the garden. “Ethan,” my voice trembled. I pulled a small, hand-painted wooden transformer toy from my pocket, one I had spent days building for him. “Look, what is this?” Ethan stopped. He looked at me, then looked back at Vanessa. Vanessa smiled gently. “Ethan, go say hi to Miss Vance.” Miss Vance. The name felt like a dagger piercing my chest. Ethan walked up to me, but he didn’t take the toy. Instead, he shoved me with all his might. Being heavily pregnant, my center of gravity was already off. The sudden push sent me stumbling back, and I fell hard onto the grass. “Bad woman!” Ethan pointed at me, screaming. “Mommy said you want to steal me away! You’re a bad woman! I don’t want your stupid toy!” The wooden toy fell to the ground, snapping in half. I clutched my stomach, my face turning pale. I looked at the son I had carried for ten months. Seeing the raw hatred and fear in his eyes tore my heart into bloody pieces. “Ethan!” Sebastian strode over, pulling Ethan behind his back. He glared down at me, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” I couldn’t speak. I just stared blankly at the broken toy on the ground. Vanessa rushed over, hugging Ethan tightly, looking utterly heartbroken. “Ethan, don’t be scared. Mommy’s here. Chloe, if you have a problem, take it out on me! Don’t scare the child!” As she spoke, she suddenly slipped, falling toward a nearby rosebush. “Ah!” Vanessa screamed. Sebastian reacted instantly, catching her by the waist and pulling her into his arms. But a stray rose thorn still managed to scratch her arm, drawing a bead of blood. “Vanessa!” Sebastian’s face turned pale, his eyes instantly turning icy. He turned his head and glared at me, having just scrambled up from the grass. His eyes were filled with pure disgust and rage. “Chloe, haven’t you had enough?” Sebastian’s voice was freezing. “Not only did you scare Ethan, but you also pushed Vanessa? What the hell is wrong with you?” I stood in the biting wind, shivering. “I didn’t push her,” my voice was quiet but firm. “I saw it with my own eyes. You still dare to lie?” Sebastian wouldn’t listen to a single word of my explanation. He pointed to the open lawn and said coldly, “Since you love being outside so much, stand right there. You can come back inside when you realize what you did wrong.” The autumn wind whipped against my face like knives. Dressed in a thin maternity dress, I stood alone in the empty garden. “Sebastian, forget it. Chloe is still pregnant…” Vanessa murmured hypocritically, leaning against his chest. “She brought this on herself,” Sebastian said without an ounce of pity. “If I don’t teach her a lesson, she will never learn.” With that, he picked up Vanessa, took Ethan’s hand, and walked back into the villa. The heavy front door slammed shut, locking all the warmth inside. I was left alone in the dark. The wind grew stronger, cutting through my thin clothes. I wrapped my arms around my swollen belly, my body shaking uncontrollably. I stood straight. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t beg. I was like a soulless statue. I knew Sebastian was watching me from the window. I also knew he wanted to see me break. He wanted me to cry and beg him like I used to. But I didn’t.

Chloe’s POV I stood in the freezing wind for two agonizing hours. My body felt completely numb, and then, a sharp, pulling pain shot through my lower abdomen. At first, it was just a dull ache, but quickly, it turned into intense, crushing waves of pain, like a saw tearing me apart from the inside. I doubled over, cold sweat instantly drenching my back. “It hurts…” I groaned, biting my lip. A sudden gush of warm liquid ran down my thighs, soaking my dress. My water had broken. “Chloe!” Sebastian’s voice echoed across the lawn. He rushed down the steps and scooped my freezing body into his arms. I felt like a block of ice, cold sweat dripping from my forehead. “Go to the hospital! Get the car now!” Sebastian roared at the butler, a hint of panic in his voice that even he didn’t seem to notice. The Maybach sped through the dark streets. Outside the VIP delivery room, through the glass window, I could see Sebastian pacing back and forth. The air was thick with the sharp smell of disinfectant. Vanessa had arrived too. She stood to the side, watching Sebastian’s anxious pacing with a flicker of jealousy in her eyes. She walked up, gently taking his hand to comfort him. It took ten agonizing hours. As the first morning light broke, a loud, healthy baby cry finally echoed in the room. The nurse walked out holding a small bundle, a smile on her face. “Congratulations, Mr. Sterling. It’s a healthy baby girl. Both mother and child are doing great.” Inside the room, I lay exhausted on the bed, drenched in sweat, barely having the strength to keep my eyes open. “The baby… let me see my baby…” I whispered weakly to the nurse. The nurse was about to bring the baby over, but the door suddenly pushed open. Sebastian walked in, with Vanessa right behind him. “Give me the baby,” Sebastian told the nurse. The nurse hesitated, glancing at me on the bed, but she ultimately handed the baby to him. Sebastian took the bundle, turned, and handed it directly to Vanessa. “Vanessa, this is our daughter,” his voice was incredibly soft. Vanessa took the baby carefully, her face lighting up with absolute joy. “Sebastian, she’s beautiful. She looks just like you.” Lying on the bed, watching this scene, my pupils dilated in horror. “Sebastian…” I squeezed the words out of my throat with the last of my strength. “Give her… back to me…” Sebastian turned, looking down at me. His eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth. “Chloe, we already agreed. Vanessa will raise this child.” “No…” Tears finally spilled from my eyes, soaking into my hair. “She’s my daughter… I beg you, let me hold her, just once… let me look at her…” I struggled to sit up, but the IV line in my wrist yanked painfully. “Vanessa’s depression is acting up again. She needs this baby to stabilize her emotions,” Sebastian’s voice didn’t waver. “Since you’ve given birth, rest well. I will handle your family.” With that, he wrapped his arm around Vanessa, who was cradling my baby, and they walked out of the delivery room. “Sebastian!” I screamed in pure despair. But the only response was the heavy slam of the door. In that moment, I heard the sound of my own heart shattering. Ten years of love, ten years of humility, ten years of silent endurance. Shattered into dust by the man I loved. I stared at the blank white ceiling. My tears ran dry, and my eyes became completely hollow, dead. My heart was dead.

Chloe’s POV Three days after giving birth. The VIP room was quiet, save for the rhythmic, cold beeping of the heart monitor. I leaned against the pillows, my face pale, but my eyes were terrifyingly calm. No crying, no screaming. I was like a hollow shell with its soul sucked dry. The door clicked open, and Vanessa walked in. She was wearing a gorgeous designer suit and high heels, cradling a pink blanket in her arms. My eyes fell on the bundle. My fingers twitched, but I quickly forced myself back into a state of numbness. “Chloe, how are you feeling today?” Vanessa walked to the bedside, looking down at me with a victorious smile. I didn’t say a word. I just stared at her coldly. Vanessa didn’t care. She gently rocked the baby. “Look how good she is. Sebastian named her Lily.” Lily. I repeated the name in my head, feeling a wave of intense nausea. Sebastian, you really are heartless. “Do you know? Sebastian held Lily and rocked her all night long,” Vanessa leaned down, lowering her voice, her words dripping with venomous pride. “Chloe, so what if you have your family backing you? You’re nothing but a surrogate, a tool to hatch my baby. Now that the job is done, you’re lower than a dog in the Sterling house.” I listened in silence. Suddenly, a cold, faint smile appeared on my lips. Underneath the blanket, my hand secretly hit the record button on my phone. “Are you done?” My voice was raspy, but it carried an eerie, chilling calm. “If you are, get the hell out.” Vanessa was taken aback by my gaze, her anger flaring. “Chloe, what are you so proud of? Believe it or not, with just one word from me, Sebastian can kick you out of this country whenever he wants!” Just then, the door opened again. Sebastian strode in, holding a luxurious velvet jewelry box. Seeing Vanessa there, he frowned slightly. “Vanessa, why are you here? There are too many germs in a hospital. It’s not good for the baby.” “I just wanted to check on Chloe,” Vanessa instantly wiped the smugness off her face, replacing it with a gentle, caring expression. “Sebastian, Chloe seems depressed. I was worried, so I brought Lily to keep her company.” Sebastian looked at me. I leaned against the headboard, watching them coldly, as if I were watching a pathetic comedy show. Sebastian walked to the bedside and placed the velvet box on the nightstand. “This is a pink diamond necklace I just bought at an auction,” Sebastian said, his tone carrying the high-and-mighty air of charity. “Consider it compensation for giving birth to Lily. Recover well, and stop throwing tantrums.” I stared at the box, and suddenly, I laughed. I reached out, picked up the priceless necklace, and right in front of Sebastian’s face, I flipped my wrist. Thud. The luxury box fell straight into the trash can next to the bed. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Vanessa gasped. Sebastian’s face turned dark. He leaned down over the bed, his hands framing my shoulders, trapping me in his shadow. “Chloe, do you have any idea what you just did?” he growled, his hot breath fanning across my face, filled with dangerous pressure. I met his gaze, my eyes completely lifeless. “Sebastian, take your compensation, take your woman, and get the hell out of my room,” my voice was quiet but powerful. “You disgust me.” Sebastian’s pupils shrank. He grabbed my jaw, his grip so tight I thought he was going to shatter my bone. “What is this? Playing hard to get?” Sebastian sneered. “Chloe, do you think acting like this will get my attention?” I didn’t struggle. I just stared at him as if he were a complete stranger. “I just find you repulsive,” I said coldly. Sebastian let go of my jaw as if he had been shocked. He stared at me deeply, then turned and stormed out of the room. “Sebastian!” Vanessa cried, cradling the baby as she chased after him. The room fell silent once more. I pulled out my phone and saved the recording. Looking out at the gray sky, a sharp, decisive light flashed in my eyes.

Chloe’s POV One month later. The annual Sterling Group press conference was held at the London Convention Center. Because rumors of our rocky marriage had leaked, the company’s stock price had been fluctuating. To reassure the board and the shareholders, Sebastian demanded that I show up and play the doting wife. In the backstage dressing room. I wore a perfectly tailored white business suit, my hair styled elegantly, my makeup flawless. I looked nothing like a woman who had just given birth a month ago. I sat on the sofa, staring coldly at my phone. On the screen was a message from Brandon, my father’s trusted assistant: “Miss Vance, everything is ready. The team in New York has secured the escape plan.” I typed back a single word: “Good.” The door opened, and Sebastian walked in. He looked powerful and commanding in his sharp navy suit. He walked over to me, his eyes lingering on my makeup-clad face. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by his usual coldness. “You know what to say out there, right?” Sebastian’s voice was deep. I locked my phone and stood up, smoothing down my blazer. “Don’t worry, Mr. Sterling. Playing the perfect wife is my job, after all.” Sebastian’s brows knitted. I knew he hated my cold, business-like tone. “You better not pull any stunts,” he warned coldly. The press room was blinding with camera flashes. Sebastian held my hand as we walked onto the stage. In front of the cameras, he was the picture-perfect, caring husband, and I was the elegant, supportive wife. “Mr. Sterling, there are rumors that you and Mrs. Sterling are divorcing, and that you have a mistress. Is that true?” a reporter asked sharply. Sebastian smiled warmly, turning to look at me, his eyes dripping with fake tenderness. “Rumors are just rumors. My wife and I are happier than ever. We just welcomed our second child, and our family is complete.” The reporter pointed the mic at me. “Mrs. Sterling, is that true?” I looked straight into the camera, my lips curved into a flawless smile. “Yes. My husband is wonderful, and we are very happy.” My smile was perfect, but the hand Sebastian was holding was as cold as ice. Once the conference ended, we returned backstage. The moment the door shut, I yanked my hand away and took two steps back, putting distance between us. This action completely set Sebastian off. He took a large step forward, trapping me against the wall, his hands slammed on either side of my head, locking me in his chest. “Why are you pulling away?” Sebastian growled, his eyes locked onto mine. I looked up at his angry face, my eyes still dead. “The show is over, Mr. Sterling,” my voice was flat. “What’s wrong? Did you get too into character?” “Chloe!” Sebastian gripped my shoulders, his hold incredibly tight. “Why do you have to speak to me like a corpse?” “How else should I speak to you?” I mocked, a cold smile on my lips. “Isn’t this what you wanted? A quiet, obedient tool? I am playing the perfect surrogate and PR prop just like you wanted. What else do you want from me?” “Do you think acting like this will make me feel guilty?” Sebastian sneered, hiding his sudden panic. “Chloe, you will never escape being Mrs. Sterling.” He let go of me and stormed out of the dressing room. I leaned against the wall, watching him leave. My eyes grew entirely cold. Escape? Sebastian, very soon, you will see exactly how I escape you.

Sebastian’s POV Lately, even though I went back to the penthouse every day, my mind was elsewhere. I would spend hours alone in the study, staring at my phone, and sometimes, looking at Lily would bring a wave of heavy thoughts. Late one night, a few days later. I was working on documents in my study when I heard the nanny scream in terror from downstairs. “Oh my god! Vanessa cut her wrists!” I bolted from my chair and ran downstairs. In the bathroom, Vanessa lay in a pool of blood. There was a deep cut on her wrist, blood staining the white tiles red. “Vanessa!” I rushed over, scooping her up. “Call an ambulance! Now!” Thanks to the quick response, Vanessa’s life was saved. In the hospital room, Vanessa leaned weakly against the pillows, tears streaming down her face. “Sebastian, I’m sorry… I don’t want to live anymore, I can’t take this…” she sobbed pitifully. “What happened?” I held her hand, my face dark. With trembling hands, Vanessa pulled a black notebook from under her pillow and handed it to me. “The nanny found this in the room Chloe used to stay in… See for yourself.” I took the notebook and flipped it open. It was filled with Chloe’s handwriting, every line dripping with pure hatred: “I hate Vanessa. I hate her for taking my baby.” “Why won’t that little brat Ethan just die? If he dies, Sebastian might finally look at me.” “That stupid Lily… I will strangle her with my own hands one day. I will make Vanessa suffer.” Reading those words, the blood in my veins turned to ice. My hands shook, and rage completely took over my mind. “She doesn’t just curse the kids. She sends me anonymous threatening texts every day.” Vanessa sobbed, hugging me. “Sebastian, I’m so scared. I’m scared she’ll actually hurt Ethan and Lily.” I slammed the notebook shut, standing up, radiating a terrifying, murderous aura. Half an hour later, I kicked open the doors of the countryside villa. Chloe was sitting on the sofa, reading. Hearing the noise, she looked up, her face completely calm. Smack! The black notebook was thrown hard at her face. The sharp edge of the paper cut her cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. “Chloe, how can you be so evil?!” I roared like a wounded beast. Chloe didn’t touch her face, nor did she look at the notebook on the floor. She just stared at me. “Look at what you wrote! You cursed your own children! Are you even human?” I rushed over, grabbing her collar, dragging her up from the sofa. I stared into her eyes, desperately searching for a hint of panic or an excuse. If she explained, if she said she didn’t write it, I might… I might have actually investigated it. But Chloe didn’t. She looked at my furious face, and suddenly, she laughed. It was a laugh filled with mockery and deep sadness. “Yes, I am that evil,” Chloe’s voice was soft, but crystal clear. “Sebastian, since you’ve already decided it was me, why bother asking?” My heart plummeted. She didn’t even care enough to explain. “Good. Very good,” I gritted my teeth, my eyes savage. “Since you’re so crazy, I’ll send you to a place meant for crazy people.” I shoved her away, pulled out my phone, and called my assistant. “Send her to Blue Water Sanitarium. No one is allowed to visit her without my permission, and she is never to step foot outside!” Blue Water Sanitarium was built on a secluded cliff on the outskirts of London. On paper, it was a rehab center. In reality, it was an isolated prison. Chloe was dragged away by two bodyguards. As she reached the door, she suddenly stopped and looked back at me. That look was so cold, so empty, as if she were looking at a dead man. My heart skipped a beat under that gaze. A suffocating feeling instantly wrapped around my entire body.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “432645”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster