Author: Momo Chan

1 The wedding was about to start, but my fiancé Neil’s female best friend, Barbara, had slipped into my wedding dress. “Neil, remember when we played house as kids? I was always the mom, and you were the dad.” She smoothed down the lace over her hips, looking at him through the mirror. “Now you’re actually getting married. Play with me one last time, okay?” I watched, paralyzed, as Neil picked up the wedding band. He dropped to one knee and slid my ring onto Barbara’s ring finger. His thoughts drifted into my mind, loud and demanding. She took the dress, she took the ring; why isn’t my wife jealous yet? Hold me, Marissa. Tell me that I’m your only love. Say it, please! This is the last test, baby. Give me unconditional love, give me security, and I promise I’ll be faithful to you forever. Eight years of this. I was sick of it. I walked up. Neil looked at me, his eyes full of eager hope. I reached out, ripped the veil off my head, and threw it at Barbara. “I’m out,” I said. “Happy wedding to both of you.” I shoved the bouquet into Barbara’s hands. She froze for a second, but instead of pushing it away, she leaned closer to Neil. “Marissa, we’re practically brothers! It was just a joke, why are you taking it so seriously?” She nudged Neil with her elbow. “Look at your wife. Eight years, and she’s still this petty.” For eight years, they had constantly crossed the line in front of me. On our anniversaries, if Neil bought me a gift, he always bought Barbara one too. If mine cost fifty grand, hers had to cost a hundred grand. When we went on picnics, Barbara always took the passenger seat, casually feeding Neil snacks right in front of me, even shoving things she had already bitten into his mouth. “Marissa, Neil and I have always been like this. You don’t mind, do you?” And before I could even speak, Neil would chime in, “If she minded something like that, she wouldn’t be my girl; she’d be my mom.” Once, I was so furious I got out of the car on the highway and walked all the way back alone. His inner thoughts had followed me even then: Aww, my baby loves me too much. She can’t stand seeing me with anyone else. I’m so touched. Get angrier, let me feel your love and possessiveness. You’re the only one in the world who cares about me this much. I had been torn. One voice told me to leave; he had hurt me too much, and staying would only bring more pain. But another voice begged me to stay, reminding me that Neil was broken. I had worked so hard to pull him out of his traumatic childhood; how could I throw him back in? And so, one compromise led to worse behavior. Neil never respected my feelings. He treated my anger as a trophy of his love. A bouquet flying at me snapped me out of my thoughts. Neil stood there, his eyes red with fury, having just thrown the flowers. “If you don’t want to get married, then don’t!” he yelled. But his heart was begging: Pick them up, please. Please don’t abandon me. I love you, can’t you see that? I looked at the scattered lilies of the valley on the floor and laughed bitterly. “Let’s break up, then.” “Oh, don’t do that,” Barbara chimed in, stirring the pot. “It’s my fault. I didn’t have boundaries, and I ruined your relationship. But…” she dragged out the word, “Marissa, I might be in the wrong, but if you can just give up your own wedding like this, do you even love Neil at all?” That was Neil’s biggest trigger. He clenched his fists and screamed at me, “Then get the hell out!” He believed Barbara so easily. He forgot the eight years we spent together, how I poured my heart out for him. I knew all his preferences. I worried about his worries. Because he loved fish, I would drive three hours to the coast just to buy the freshest catch. When he had business dinners, I set alarms for late at night to pick him up, feeding him sobering soup, washing his face and feet, and cradling him to sleep. “You really are ungrateful,” I said. Neil’s face went pale. I pushed open the door and walked away. By the time I took off my wedding makeup and grabbed my bag to leave, the venue doors had been locked because the ceremony had started. Barbara, holding the skirt of the gown, was guided to the start of the red carpet by the staff. We were less than a yard apart. I could see the exquisite details of the wedding dress, and on her head, she wore the pink diamond tiara I had pre-ordered six months ago. “Marissa, let me finish the ceremony for you,” she smiled. The spotlight bypassed me and landed on her. The officiant began: “Please welcome the bride!” When Barbara walked onto the stage, the crowd gasped. Suddenly, someone noticed me. Soon, more people turned around, their whispering voices cutting into my back like needles. “Why did they swap the bride?” “Did the original bride do something scandalous and get caught?” “How embarrassing. I heard they already got their marriage certificate. The groom must feel so blind.” “Tsk, tsk. Divorced before even finishing the wedding. Who would want her now?” Neil heard it all. But instead of feeling bad for me, a smug thought crossed his mind: The wilder the rumors, the better. That way, you’ll only belong to me. Baby, get angry! Come up to the stage and take me back! I found a seat and sat down. I was too exhausted to be angry anymore. The ceremony continued. They exchanged vows, swapped rings, and embraced amid applause. Neil kept glancing my way. I looked up. His desperate gaze met my dull eyes. Amid the cheering crowd, our world was dead silent. Neil pulled Barbara close and kissed her deeply. A thunderclap seemed to shatter my mind. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears, and I could no longer hear Neil’s inner thoughts. A different voice was screaming inside me: Leave! Get out of here now! Trembling, I pulled out my phone, opened our work group chat, and approved the transfer request my manager had posted a few days ago. I went home and started packing. On my phone, the message I sent Neil remained unanswered: Are you done drinking? Meet me directly at the courthouse. We’re getting a divorce. He didn’t reply for hours. Around midnight, his friend Tommy called me. “Neil’s wasted. Come pick him up.” “Tell Barbara to go,” I said. “Barbara’s here!” Tommy yelled. “But she can’t handle him. Hurry up, he’s going to drink himself to death!” Legally, Neil and I were still married. If something happened to him, I’d be held responsible. So I drove to the club. Before I even pushed open the VIP lounge door, a burst of laughter leaked through the crack. “I bet Marissa shows up!” “To put it bluntly, she’s like a dog Neil keeps. All these years, he just waves his hand, and she comes wagging her tail!” Someone interrupted, “I bet she won’t. She lost all face at the wedding today. I don’t believe she’s that shameless to come crawling back.” “Neil, what do you think?” Neil, heavily drunk, leaned back on the sofa, his fingers tracing the cheek of a girl sitting next to him. “She’ll come,” he said confidently. “You’ve all seen it. No matter how badly I treat her, she always forgives me. She can’t live without me.” He didn’t define our relationship with love; he defined it as codependency. He never viewed us as equals. Barbara slapped his hand away. She snatched his phone, easily unlocked it, and showed everyone my text. “Keep dreaming! She’s asking for a divorce!” Neil sneered. “She’s just throwing a tantrum. Would she actually dare? We just got registered. Divorcing before the honeymoon? People would talk about her behind her back for the rest of her life!” I froze, a sharp pain twisting my heart. I couldn’t believe this came from the man I loved for eight years. Baby, I know you’re outside. You still can’t let me go. Can you hear how angry I am? Come in and coax me. Do that, and I’ll pretend today never happened. I gripped the doorknob, my knuckles turning white. “Hey, who wants to hear the diary of a simp?” Barbara waved the phone, scrolling up my chat history, reading my messages aloud as she giggled in Neil’s lap. “Hubby, which nightgown do you want me to wear tonight? Hubby, what do you want for dinner? Hubby…” I kicked the door open. Except for Neil, everyone’s face fell. I walked straight up to him. Slap! His head whipped to the side. He rubbed his jaw, but his expression wasn’t angry. You really do still care about me. “How dare you…” Barbara jumped up. Slap! I slapped her so hard she stumbled back, completely dazed. “Do either of you have any shame?” I asked. Barbara clutched her red cheek and burst into tears. Neil immediately shielded her. “Hit me if you want, but don’t touch her!” To the crowd, his actions sent a clear message: he didn’t care about me; he only cared about protecting Barbara. The others laughed and went back to drinking, completely ignoring me. One even joked, “As expected of a married couple who took vows. Always protecting each other.” Because of Neil’s attitude, his friends had never respected me. They called Barbara “his girl” behind my back and gave me derogatory nicknames. Neil knew, but he never stood up for me. He was just like those trashy people, treating my humiliation as a joke. I finally saw him clearly. “I came here for business.” I opened my bag, pulled out the divorce papers and a pen, and threw them onto the table. “Sign it.” Neil froze, his pupils trembling. “Marissa, do you know what you’re doing?” Don’t abandon me, please. I love you so much, how can you do this to me? How can you be so heartless! “Sign it,” I said, cold and clear. Tommy threw an arm around Neil’s shoulder, sneering. “Neil, sign it! Let this old woman realize what regret feels like!” The others chimed in. “Yeah! Just treat it like firing a maid!” I grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it against the edge of the table. The loud explosion of glass silenced the room. I pointed the jagged neck of the broken bottle outward, scanning the crowd. “Who wants to say another word?” Neil’s eyes were red with suppressed emotion. He grabbed the pen, gritted his teeth, and signed his name. “Take it and get the hell out!” He threw the papers at my face. The sharp paper sliced my cheek, and a drop of blood dripped onto the floor. “Didn’t you hear me?” He pulled out a thick stack of cash from his wallet and threw it into the air. The bills rained down over me, light enough to be blown away by a breeze, but heavy enough to crush a person’s soul. “Consider this payment for your services. You’re fired, maid. Get out.” I wanted to laugh, but I wanted to cry even more. My eyes were burning, but I forced my lips to curl upward. “Neil, you really are something… You really are a monster.” Don’t go! Don’t go! Tear up the papers, I can’t live without you! His inner thoughts screamed. Just swallow your pride one more time! Please! Don’t abandon me! I’ll go crazy! You promised you’d love me forever! You can’t break your promise! My hands shook as I picked up the papers, folded them, and put them in my bag. The heavy door closed, shutting out Neil’s desperate gaze. As soon as I reached my car, Neil ran out after me. I thought he was going to make some pathetic attempt to win me back. Instead, he just held out his hand. “Give me the car keys. I bought it.” He had given me this car on our 520th day together. It was painted my favorite shade of yellow, and the steering wheel had our names engraved on it: Marissa & Neil, Forever. I still remembered how thrilled I was when I received it. For six years, every time I drove it, I relived that happiness. Now, he wanted it back. “Here.” I handed him the keys. But Neil hesitated to take them, his eyes filled with pain and struggle. Don’t give them to me! I don’t want the car! I want you! Just hug me. I’ve walked ninety-nine steps, just take one step toward me and we can be whole again. Barbara ran out behind him. “Perfect, Tommy didn’t drink. Let him drive us back in this car.” Neil took the keys. It was three in the morning, and the streets were empty. I walked home alone in the dark, shivering. My feet, bare in my shoes, soon blistered and bled. When I finally unlocked the door, I went to change into my slippers, only to find them gone. Barbara’s shoes were sitting neatly next to Neil’s. The bedroom door was shut. I could hear Neil’s thoughts from inside: Open the door. See this. Get jealous. You have to care about me! Barbara is wearing your wedding robe, sleeping in our bed. I don’t believe you feel nothing. If you keep playing this game, you’re the one who will lose. I put on my headphones, playing soft music until his voice faded away. I grabbed my packed suitcase, changed into comfortable shoes, took off the necklace Neil had given me as our promise ring, and left it on the dining table. I wrote a note: “I’m returning everything. We are even. Let’s never see each other again.” I took a cab to the airport, checked in, and boarded. Three hours later, my plane landed. When my phone finally got reception, a flood of messages crashed in. Over three hundred messages and a hundred missed calls filled my screen, all from Neil. The flood of desperate words began at dawn and had not stopped.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462284”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 During my year-long overseas posting, my husband and son cried on the phone every day, telling me how much they missed me. Ross insisted on scheduled video calls just to get through his workday, and my little boy, Toby, refused to go to sleep unless I sang to him over a cross-ocean call. Then came the day I got distracted during one of those calls and fell into a storm drain. Instead of clinging to me, they suddenly became the ones comforting me. “Honey, focus on your work. It is only a year, and I can wait.” “Mommy, I will be a good boy. I can sleep on my own now.” I pushed myself to the limit, optimizing my workflow to finish a twelve-month assignment two months ahead of schedule. But by then, they hadn’t contacted me in over two weeks. I caught a red-eye flight back home and went straight to Toby’s school essay competition. As I reached the auditorium door, my son’s sweet, high-pitched voice echoed through the speakers. “The title of my essay is, I Love My Mommy.” My heart warmed as I leaned in, eagerly waiting to hear the rest. “My Mommy Tina is a superhero.” To the crowd’s roaring applause, my husband walked onto the stage, his arm wrapped tightly around a woman. The three of them stood close, thanking the audience together. And I froze. The “Mommy Tina” Toby loved, the woman in my husband’s arms, was my best friend. Ross spotted me and froze for a fraction of a second. He tapped his phone quickly. A second later, my phone buzzed in my hand. One text on the screen read, Don’t make a scene. I will explain when we get home. I took a deep breath and sat down in the nearest empty seat. Ross gently rested his left hand on Tina’s shoulder while holding Toby’s hand with his right, sitting directly in front of me. They looked like the perfect family. The whispers of the other parents drifted into my ears. “What a beautiful family. Even with how busy he is, he still makes time to support his kid.” “I know. Remember the school field trip? He was so sweet to his wife. I was so jealous.” “And the parent-teacher conferences. Most kids only have one parent show up, but Toby always has both. He must be so happy.” “I’m used to it by now. They’re always together at every school event.” Ross seemed oblivious to the chatter, whispering softly into Tina’s ear. A sharp, suffocating ache bloomed in my chest. I wanted to scream, to tell them that I was Ross’s wife, that I was Toby’s mother. But the words died in my throat. By the time the event ended and we got home, dusk was falling. Tina made herself comfortable on the far end of our sofa. “Wendy, please don’t get the wrong idea. I only went for Toby’s sake. He said all his friends had both parents there. He felt so left out being the only one with just a dad.” I glanced at Tina’s left ring finger. The ring she wore was identical to mine. Our wedding band. “Does a simple school competition require a matching wedding band?” Ross sat beside me, rubbing my back gently. “We just had to make it believable. If we slipped up, think of what the other parents and kids would say about Toby behind his back. Wendy, you’ve been away too long. You don’t know how cruel schoolyard gossip can be.” I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t. I remembered a school sports day before I left. I had been held up by an emergency meeting. When I finally got home, Toby was curled up on the couch, sobbing. He eventually confessed that his classmates mocked him for having a mother who was never there. I realized then how much pain he had hidden just to keep me from worrying. Tina slid the ring off and tossed it casually onto the coffee table. “Look, don’t be mad. Now that you’re back, you can take over his school events, and I can step back.” Suddenly, Toby ran down the stairs, tears streaming down his face. “You always put work first! My classmates always laughed at me! You never pick me up from school, so I asked Auntie Tina to play the part!” My chest tightened, a burning sensation stinging my eyes. Ross frowned, his voice sharp. “Toby, apologize now!” My son walked up to me, his face red from crying. “I’m sorry, Mommy. But Daddy and Auntie Tina are just friends. They did it for me. Please don’t be mad at them.” Seeing how earnest my son was, my resolve softened. Ross and Tina were people I had loved and trusted for a decade. They always kept their distance around each other, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. They hadn’t even had each other’s contact info until I insisted before leaving the country. Maybe I really was overthinking this. I took a deep breath, smiled, and opened my arms. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Mommy promises she won’t break her word again, okay?” But Toby didn’t run to me like he used to. He hesitated, looking at Tina as if seeking permission. My chest tightened. Tina looked away, a flicker of awkwardness in her eyes. Ross gave Toby a small nod, and only then did my son step forward to hug me. My warmth began to turn cold. Before bed, Toby brought out his piggy bank. “Mommy, here’s all my money. Three thousand five hundred and forty-six dollars.” I remembered how long he’d saved this money for something special. He climbed into my lap with a grin. “I want to buy a gift.” I smiled, assuming he remembered my upcoming birthday. Then he added, “Auntie Tina’s birthday is in a few days. Can you help me buy her the big fireworks display?” My smile froze. “Toby, if Mommy had to go work abroad again, would you want to come with me?” He buried his face in his pillow. “No. Daddy and Auntie Tina are here. I like it here.” I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Just as I stepped out of Toby’s bedroom, my phone buzzed. It was an email from my contact in London. The message said, Wendy, get your onboarding paperwork sorted as soon as you can. I have managed to push the start date back a few days for you. I walked into our bedroom and winced, shielding my eyes. The warm, soft lighting had been replaced by a harsh, clinical cool light. Ross noticed and quickly dimmed it, looking apologetic. “I’m so sorry, honey. Tina said the cool tones would give the room a modern, high-end feel. I completely forgot your eyes are sensitive to it.” He pulled me close, whispering, “Don’t be mad at me for a stupid mistake, okay?” A stupid mistake? I wanted to laugh. When we first renovated this house, Ross had been obsessed with the lighting, terrified of anything hurting my sensitive eyes. He had traveled to light markets across the country, running himself ragged until he fell ill. I remembered crying by his hospital bed, and him wiping my tears, saying that anything affecting me was his absolute top priority. He had visited thirteen cities just to find the perfect warm lights. Now, Tina’s casual suggestion made my comfort a stupid mistake not worth mentioning. I reached for the glass on my nightstand. It was ice-cold juice. Cold liquids gave me stomach cramps, so Ross always left a glass of warm water for me. Now, it was replaced by iced juice. I couldn’t drink cold things, and I hated juice. But iced juice was Tina’s favorite. I set it down without a word. Ross didn’t notice. He kissed my cheek like he always did, but the touch felt like a thorn pricking my heart. My phone buzzed, saving me from having to speak. It was an invitation to our ten-year college reunion. I typed a quick reply confirming I’d be there. Ross looked surprised. “I thought you hated these events.” “I do, but ten years is a milestone. It’s worth going to.” Ten years ago, on graduation day, Ross had proposed to me in front of everyone. He had organized our entire class to hand me flowers, appearing at the end with a massive bouquet, getting down on one knee. He had promised me that his heart would never change. Girls in the crowd had wept. I had cried in his arms. I looked at myself in the mirror now, wondering if human hearts ever truly stayed the same. The next day, after dropping Toby off at school, we prepared to leave. But Ross stopped me. “Tina is coming with us. Let’s wait for her.” I didn’t say anything and climbed into the passenger seat. Half an hour later, Tina showed up. She reached for the front passenger door, only to freeze when she saw me sitting there. Her face paled. “Oh, sorry, Wendy. I get carsick easily, so I instinctively go for the front.” I merely nodded. She awkwardly got into the back seat. We arrived late. The others teased us, making Ross drink three penalty cups. He drank them easily, then took my cup and drank that too. The other women sighed in envy. “Ten years and you two are still like newlyweds.” “You actually proved your vows true.” Ross grinned. “I keep my promises. Of course I am going to spoil my wife.” When it was Tina’s turn, she pleaded with the group. “Spare me, guys. It’s that time of the month. I can’t drink cold alcohol today.” The men teased her. “Don’t ruin the fun, Tina. Find a boyfriend to drink for you.” Tina’s smile faltered. I was about to stand up to help her out, but Ross beat me to it. He snatched her glass and downed it in one go. “Stop teasing her. She said she is not feeling well.” His voice was light, but his eyes were serious. Eyes darted between the three of us. I clenched my fists under the table. The air grew cold. Then, someone piped up, “You two are still as close as ever.” The tension dissipated as the others began reminiscing. “Everyone knew Tina was crazy about Ross back then. Who knew he’d fall head over heels for Wendy at first sight?” “It’s amazing how Wendy and Tina ended up best friends anyway.” I forced a smile. Tina had chased Ross for a year, but Ross had fallen for me during a debate competition. When I finally agreed to date him, Tina had gracefully stepped aside. Later, I saved her from some thugs, and we became fast friends. My phone vibrated violently. It was my assistant, sounding frantic. “Wendy, you need to come back right now! Something went wrong!” I stood up abruptly. I stared at Tina, my face cold. “Did you actually review the proposal before submitting it?” Tina flinched. “Of course I did. This project is huge. I checked it several times. Ross can vouch for me.” Ross nodded. “Tina worked late for days. I remember clearly.” My assistant met me at the door. “Wendy, the submitted project budget has an extra zero. A forty-two million dollar proposal was inflated tenfold. There are two approval signatures on it. Tina’s, and Ross’s.” Tina and Ross followed me back. I threw the documents on the desk. Tina’s face turned white. “I didn’t mean to, Wendy! It was an accident!” “An accident that will cost the company nearly three hundred million? You are fired. The company will be filing a lawsuit.” “That’s enough, Wendy!” Ross yelled. “It’s not just her mistake. I’ll handle the financial fallout. But you don’t have the right to fire a shareholder.” “What do you mean?” Ross helped Tina up and draped his coat over her shoulders. “I transferred my ten percent share to her.” “Wendy, you’re being too harsh. Tina is Toby’s godmother. How is she supposed to face anyone if you humiliate her like this? She took amazing care of Toby while you were away. Consider the shares her reward.” “You are in love with her, aren’t you?” Silence filled the office. “We didn’t do anything, I swear,” Ross said after a long pause. I couldn’t even summon the energy to argue. I placed my resignation letter on the desk. “People should pay for their own choices, shouldn’t they?” I went home, packed a bag, and headed to the airport. At the security gate, Ross called. “We picked up Toby. He wants to celebrate Tina’s birthday.” He paused. “Just this once. After this, she and I are done.” I smiled quietly. “Sure. Have fun.” “Ma’am, you are cleared through security. Your gate is on the left.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462283”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I was never meant for the rough life. I was soft, a girl who loved her comforts. When I first crossed over into the Wildlands, my mate spoiled me rotten. He treated me like a rare, delicate treasure. But then a new female arrived in our territory, and she was the exact opposite of me. Sienna was rugged. She hunted alongside the males, worked her fingers to the bone, and did not care if she got dirt under her nails. Gideon looked at her with shining eyes. And just like that, my soft curves and delicate nature became a burden to him. He started complaining that I was too high maintenance, that my insistence on having the best food and the warmest pelts was too much trouble. He invited Sienna to discipline me. For the past three years, whenever I dared to talk back, she would punish me without mercy. And Gideon would just stand there, throwing out his favorite threat. “If you do not learn to behave, I will dump you in the Serpent Basin!” He knew I was terrified of snakes. Today, he used that threat again. The sheer weight of his cruelty finally broke me. I pushed him away, tears streaming down my face. “Then I do not want you anymore! I will find a new mate!” The only response I got was the vicious crack of a vine whip. A blistering, fiery pain tore across my chest. I looked down through my blurry vision. The soft fur of my bodice had been split open, revealing my pale skin and a stark, bloody welt swelling right across my collarbone. My skin was so sensitive that a papercut used to make me cry. This kind of agony was blinding. “Sienna, back off!” I screamed. But Sienna just stood there, dripping with self-righteousness. “You crossed the line, Aria. As Gideon’s female, how dare you speak to him like that?” I sniffled, my eyes red and burning, staring at her in absolute disbelief. Gideon froze for a split second when he heard her words. Then his face hardened into a sneer. “Look at you. Pathetic and useless. Who else in this pack would even want you if I did not claim you?” “Sienna is right, Aria. Stop being such an ungrateful brat.” He raked his cold gaze over my body, lingering on my slender waist with nothing but impatience and disgust. I knew it. Ever since Sienna showed up, he despised how fragile I was. He hated that I could not run through the bloody woods with him and hunt down prey. He hated that I needed my drinking water boiled, my meat thoroughly cooked, and my body wrapped in thick, warm furs to survive the winter. I was nothing like Sienna, who paraded around the camp in a skimpy leather skirt, completely unbothered by the cold or the stares. But I had tried. Gods knew I had tried to be like them in the beginning. It resulted in a fever that nearly killed me. Only then did Gideon realize I was physically different, and he promised to let me live at my own pace. The memory of that broken promise made me clench my fists. “There are hundreds of males out there. It does not have to be you. You do not even like me anymore, so let us just call it quits.” Gideon’s face did not soften. His scowl only deepened. “Enough! I just wanted you to learn half of what Sienna knows so I could let you off the hook. But if you keep throwing these childish tantrums, I will stop holding back.” He was so utterly confident. He thought I was throwing a fit. He thought I could never survive without him. After all, despite my delicate nature, I had spent the last few years being completely submissive to him. He genuinely believed I was entirely dependent on him. He had no idea how terrified I was when I first dropped into this alien world, completely alone. He was the one who walked up to me, handed me a handful of sweet berries, and claimed me as his mate. I clung to him because he was my only anchor in a terrifying new reality. But now? He did not love me. He only gave me pain and humiliation. It was time to cut the cord. The icy indifference in his voice cemented my decision. I wiped my face and stood tall. “No. I meant what I said. We are done. I am getting a new mate.” I grabbed the torn edges of my top to cover myself, bit my lip, and turned to walk out. A heavy hand clamped down on my arm. Gideon gripped my wrist with bone-crushing force. My skin turned violently red, sending a piercing ache up my arm. He did not care. He just glared at me with furious eyes. “I really spoiled you to death, did I not?” “I let Sienna train you day and night for three years so you could become a proper mate. I did all of this for your own good, and you spit in my face!” Sienna finally chimed in, perfectly playing the victim. “Gideon, it is my fault. I just hate seeing her disrespect you like this. Maybe I should just leave.” She sighed, looking incredibly helpless. “I never imagined she would be this soft. We get clawed and bitten on hunts all the time, and no one cries like this. A female like her… she will never survive as a proper mate.” Gideon scoffed. “She is just spoiled rotten. She contributes nothing to the pack, and now she thinks she can talk down to us. She needs a real lesson.” With a brutal shove, he threw me down onto the stone slab in the corner of the room. Panic seized my chest. I thrashed wildly. “Gideon, what are you doing! Let me go, please…” It was useless. His grip was like iron, completely immobilizing my arms. Seeing me pinned, Sienna stepped forward with a twisted smile. And this time, she raised the thick vine whip, aiming right at my bare legs. “Exactly. Your behavior is a disgrace to all females, Aria.” “I am going to teach you how to behave.” 2 Crack. The whip lashed down. “That is for disrespecting your mate.” My vision went black. A sickening cocktail of numbness and burning agony ripped a loud, ugly sob from my throat. Gideon did not stop her. Instead, he grabbed the thick hide ropes from the wall and tied my wrists and ankles to the stone bed. He stood above me, staring down at my tear-stained face with zero emotion. “Keep going.” Before I could even process the pain or beg for mercy, a blinding sting slapped across my mouth. Sienna had whipped my face. She smiled down at me, her eyes dancing with vicious glee. “Hold still, Aria.” “Gideon is your mate. He specifically asked me for a favor, and I am not going to let him down.” “That one is to teach you not to hurl insults.” The vine rose and fell again. This time, it struck my breasts. I screamed. The flesh went completely numb before exploding into radiating fire. “That one is for being weak and forcing your mate to waste his time hunting down soft pelts just to clothe you.” Then came the second strike. And the third. Across my waist. Down my thighs. Every strike came with a self-righteous lecture. My body convulsed violently. I looked up at Gideon through a veil of tears, my voice breaking. “It hurts. Gideon, please, it hurts so much. Let me go…” His eyes were dead. He did not flinch. My heart turned to ash. It felt like a massive boulder had been dropped onto my chest, dragging me down into a dark, suffocating abyss. Sienna raised her arm again. The rough vine hovered over my pale, bruised thigh. “This one is to teach you…” A low, thunderous voice suddenly echoed through the room. “Enough.” I lay there, soaked in cold sweat, barely able to keep my eyes open. Gideon had finally decided to intervene. He stared intensely at me, untying the thick ropes. His voice was a dangerous rumble. “Do you understand your mistakes now, Aria?” I did not answer. Swallowing the bile and the pain, I forced myself to stand. My legs shook violently as I walked silently toward the door. As I brushed past him, his suppressed anger flared again. “Not speaking? Do you want another round?” I stopped. I raised my hand and slapped him directly across the face with every ounce of strength I had left. My throat was raw and shredded from screaming. “If you love Sienna so much, go be her mate.” “I hate you.” The slap did not even leave a mark on his jaw. But my own palm burned like it had been pierced by a thousand needles. Still, Gideon froze. I had never raised a hand to him in my entire life. He was so shocked he forgot to grab me. He just darkened his expression and threw one last threat at my back. “You are making a huge mistake, Aria!” My chest felt hollow. I shoved past the doorframe and stumbled out into the cold air, dragging my broken body back to my own little hut. I had not slept there since Gideon brought Sienna in to break me. Thank the gods, my things were still there. I dug through a dusty pile in the corner and pulled out a small wooden carving of a coiled snake. It was given to me by a boy from the Viper Scale Clan during my first few weeks in this world. He had shadowed me for days. No matter where I went, he was there, completely ignoring Gideon’s lethal glares. But I was terrified of snakes. The moment I looked into his vertical, golden irises, I would start hyperventilating. I could not even bear to stand near him. When he realized my fear was genuine, his eyes lost their light. He stopped following me after that. But before he vanished, he pressed this wooden carving into my hand. He told me that if I ever needed a way out, all I had to do was snap the wood in half. He would find me within three days. I took it in a daze back then and hid it from Gideon. I never thought the day would actually come where I would need it. Compared to the slithering monsters I used to fear, looking at Gideon’s face was infinitely worse. I traced the grooves of the wooden snake with my thumb. Then, without a second thought, I snapped it in two. Staring at the broken pieces, a wave of profound relief washed over me. I started gathering whatever I could carry. It was not much. A few worn-out tunics. Some cheap bone trinkets. Ever since Sienna showed up, Gideon had stopped bringing me gifts. Even the fresh kills and the sweet berries he used to gather just for me were now handed directly to her. He was acting more like her mate than mine. But it did not matter now. Three days. I just had to survive three more days. Goodbye, Gideon. Actually, no. See you never. I was just letting out a shaky breath when Sienna strolled through my door. She looked at my bruised, pathetic state, a nasty smirk playing on her lips. And then, she said something that made my blood run cold. “For a girl from Earth, you are incredibly useless.” 3 I stared at her, deadpan, and kept my mouth shut. I had suspected she was a modern girl from the moment she arrived in the Wildlands. I just did not expect her to waltz in and confess it to my face. Sienna crossed her arms, her eyes dripping with contempt. “Gideon is the strongest Alpha in the pack. You do not deserve him.” “I only agreed to train you because we came from the same world. I was doing you a favor. Do not be an ungrateful bitch.” I looked at her calmly. “If you want him, take him. I do not want the garbage you’re fighting over.” The second the words left my mouth, the wooden door slammed open. Gideon stood in the frame, his face looking like a thundercloud. Sienna did not miss a beat. Her arrogant smirk vanished, instantly replaced by her usual easygoing, ‘one-of-the-boys’ persona. She turned to Gideon, sighing heavily. “I brought her some healing herbs because I was worried she was upset. I had no idea she hated me this much.” She spun a perfect web of victimhood, completely erasing the fact that she had just cornered me. I did not know how much Gideon had heard, and I did not care. I went back to packing my meager belongings. Gideon stormed in, grabbed my sore wrist, and barked a command. “Apologize to Sienna.” His grip sent fresh waves of agony radiating through my battered skin. This time, I did not cry. I did not beg. I just looked at his chest and asked quietly. “Why should I?” Gideon’s jaw clenched. “She spent three years trying to help you. She put her heart and soul into training you, and you treat her like dirt. Apologize.” “Do not make me ask twice.” A broken laugh escaped my lips. He actually believed it. He genuinely believed that the beatings, the starvation, and the constant humiliation of the past three years were a blessing. Seeing me laugh instead of obeying made his anger boil over. He squeezed my wrist tighter, threatening to snap the bone. The pain was excruciating. I knew his game. He was trying to physically force me into submission. Sienna stood safely behind his broad shoulders, flashing me a triumphant grin. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, refusing to make a single sound. Gideon was about to shout again when something on the dusty wooden table caught his eye. He let go of me instantly. He walked over and picked up the two halves of the wooden snake. When he turned back to me, his eyes were lethal. “What is this?” I smiled faintly. “Isn’t it obvious? It is my ticket out of here. My invitation to the Serpent Basin.” Gideon’s face contorted. He stared at the carving, then at me. A heavy, suffocating silence filled the hut before he let out a dark sneer. He dropped the wood onto the dirt floor and crushed it into splinters beneath his heavy boot. Then, he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me out the door. “Sienna was right! I went too easy on you. Three years of training and you are still a worthless brat!” “You want to go to the snakes? Fine! Let me help you!” He hauled me up the rocky path toward the dark caves at the back of the mountain and violently shoved me inside. “This cavern is a nesting ground for the serpents. If you can survive in here for three days, I will walk you to their territory myself!” I stared at him in absolute horror. I never thought he could be this monstrous. The heavy wooden gates slammed shut. The lock clicked. From the pitch-black depths of the cavern came the wet, sickening sound of scales sliding against stone. Then came the hissing. The sounds multiplied, drawing closer. My whole body began to shake violently. Terror hijacked my brain. I threw myself against the wooden bars, sobbing hysterically as I begged the man standing outside. “Please, let me out!” “You know I am terrified of them! Gideon, please, please let me out!” My screams bounced off the cave walls. I was losing my mind, completely paralyzed by the primal fear gripping my chest. Gideon just stood there in the daylight, his arms crossed, his lips curled in a mocking sneer. “I thought you wanted to join them? If you cannot even handle a few garden snakes, how do you expect to survive there?” A piercing scream ripped from my throat as something cold and muscular slithered over my bare ankle. Then another wrapped around my thigh, making its way up toward my waist. “No! Gideon, please do not do this to me!” I shrieked like a madwoman. Sharp fangs sank into my calf. The fiery venom mixed with the absolute terror, breaking my mind into pieces. Gideon turned his back and walked away. No matter how much I screamed, he never once looked back. He kept his word. He locked me in that nightmare for three entire days. On the first day, he came to check on me. I was curled in a fetal position on the damp stone, half-dead from the venom and shock. He mocked me through the bars. “Look at you. You really thought they would take you? They would not even let a pathetic thing like you cross their borders.” On the second day, he stood outside the gate, his voice colder than winter ice. “If you admit you were wrong and promise to apologize to Sienna, I will let you out early.” I did not even look at him. I just pulled my knees tighter against my chest, shivering uncontrollably. If my counting was right, tomorrow was the third day. The next morning, before Gideon arrived, a familiar figure materialized in the dim light. Vertical, golden irises. He dropped to his knees and pulled my bruised, freezing body into a desperate embrace. His voice shook with heartbreak. “I am so sorry. I am late. Are you ready to leave with me?” I blinked through my swollen eyelids and smiled. “Take me away.” When Gideon finally unlocked the cavern later that day, all he found was empty space. And lying in the dirt, abandoned like trash, was the blood-stained wolf-tooth necklace he had given me the day we mated.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462282”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 The metal-on-metal screech of the collision still echoed in my ears. By the time we were rushed to the emergency room, Diana’s husband was already there, pacing the sterile hallway with their little girl piggybacked on his shoulders. “Why did you bring her out?” Diana gasped, her voice thick with panic. “She’s still running a fever…” Her tone was accusatory, but the frantic terror in her eyes instantly melted into relief the moment she looked at him. She had her anchor. Then her gaze drifted to me, sitting alone on a gurney with an IV line dripping into my vein. A flicker of confusion crossed her face. “Audrey, is your husband not coming?” I squeezed my phone, forcing a dry smile. “He’s probably asleep by now.” It had taken nearly forty minutes from the crash site to the hospital. In that time, I had called Javon twenty-five times. Every single call went straight to a busy signal. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Nine to eleven every night was Javon’s dedicated slot for reading bedtime stories to Bianca. Aside from a mild concussion and two stitches right above my eyebrow, I was fine, but the doctor wanted me kept overnight for observation. I sent Javon a text letting him know I was staying at the hospital. By noon the next day, it still sat there, unread. I stared at the screen for a long time before clicking it black. “Diana,” I said softly, looking over at my boss. “Is my old position at the New York office still open?” Diana nearly jumped off her exam table, her eyes wide with shock. “Audrey, you’re finally letting this go?” Yes. Three years. It was long past time to wake up. Javon and I had stayed in New York after graduation, building our lives and planning to settle down there permanently. But three years ago, he suddenly insisted we move back to Denver, buy a house, and finally get married. Drunk on the illusion of our happily-ever-after, I agreed without a second thought. But the night before we were supposed to wire the down payment on our dream house, Javon broke down. Tears streaming down his face, he claimed a bad investment had wiped out his entire savings. The catch was, I had put up two-thirds of that money myself, pouring every single penny of my hard-earned savings into his account. “The venture was supposed to be a sure thing,” he had sobbed, kneeling on the living room floor while I sat frozen on the bed. “I just wanted to make a little extra so I could give you the beautiful wedding you deserve.” He spent the night kneeling in the dark living room, and I spent it staring at the wall. When the sun came up, we put our dreams on hold and signed a lease on a cramped rental. We lived there for three years. It was only much later that I discovered Bianca lived in our very building. Her apartment had been bought in full, cash upfront. And it was the exact unit Javon and I had chosen. It was past six in the evening when I finally made it back to our rental. The text from the night before remained unread. As I fumbled in my purse for my keys, the front door swung open from the inside. “I’d recognize that cheap plastic rattle anywhere,” Javon said, poking his head out. His eyes flicked over the bandage on my forehead, his expression shifting slightly. “What happened to your head? When did that happen?” He stepped back into the entryway, kicking off his shoes. His voice was utterly casual, as if he were asking if I’d gotten a haircut. “How long has it been since you checked your phone?” I asked, my fingers unclasping the mini acrylic keychain from my ring. Inside was a tiny, faded photo booth picture of the two of us from college. “What, did you text me?” Javon finally pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling through his notifications. “Oh. Right. Ten o’clock last night. I was occupied then, Audrey. You know how it is.” Oh, I knew. Three months ago, Bianca had watched a horror movie and claimed she was too traumatized to sleep. To soothe her fragile nerves, Javon had designated nine to eleven every night as her exclusive window. He would call her on the dot, whispering bedtime stories until she drifted off. “Next time you need something, you should let me know beforehand,” he murmured. “So you’re saying I should have scheduled my car crash in advance?” I asked, my voice dry. “Maybe booked a slot on your calendar between her bedtime stories?” Javon finally realized how incredibly callous he sounded. His hand slid off the doorknob, and he turned to wrap his arms around me, pulling me into a soft, familiar embrace. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I messed up this time. But the doctor said Bianca’s anxiety is finally under control. She should be able to fall asleep on her own starting next week. After that, my time is all yours, okay?” In three years, he had made variations of that promise a thousand times, and broken them a thousand more. As he spoke, I felt one of his hands leave my back. He was checking his watch. Sure enough, before I could even reply, he released me. “But just for tonight, sweetheart, be the bigger person. Let me slide out for a couple of hours. Bianca’s ginger cat hasn’t been able to use the litter box in three days, and she’s panicking. I promised I’d drive them to the vet.” When my period cramps got so bad I shivered and threw up on the bathroom floor, the most I ever got from him was a muttered “drink some warm water.” Once, he had even joked, “You grew up on a farm, babe. How is your system more fragile than a delicate city girl like Bianca?” I wanted to laugh back then. I wanted to laugh now. Bianca didn’t have to work a day in her life, pampered with organic green juices and luxury spa days. Meanwhile, I was working seventy-hour weeks, fueling myself on greasy takeout and cheap coffee, desperately trying to rebuild the savings he had lost. No matter how strong my constitution had been, it was bound to crumble under that weight. Seeing my silence, Javon took my face in his hands, pressing a gentle, performative kiss right below my bandage. “I’ll bring you some warm soup on my way back tonight, okay? A little scratch like this will heal in no time.” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door. Two seconds later, there was a sharp knock. He cracked the door open. “Oh, honey, can you take the trash out when you get a chance?” Then came the chime of the elevator doors opening. There were four bags of garbage sitting in the hallway. Three of them belonged to Bianca. Javon had once told me that hauling heavy trash bags didn’t suit someone like Bianca, and since I went downstairs for work every morning anyway, it was only logical for me to carry them. I stood in front of the hallway mirror, touching the medical tape near my eye. A bitter laugh escaped my throat. The “little scratch” he dismissed so easily was barely half an inch from my eyeball. I swallowed a sip of water, picked up my phone, and typed out a text to him: What does Bianca’s keychain sound like then? Ding. It was an instant reply. Mine has a little golden pig and a bunch of Swarovski crystals on it, so it makes a really bright, pretty chime. Javon is driving right now, so his hands are full. A cold, hollow ache spread through my chest, accompanied by the burning humiliation of an intruder caught in the act. Before I could lock my screen, the phone buzzed again. This time, it was a five-second video. In the frame, a plump ginger cat was curled up on a pair of bare, fair legs. A man’s hand, Javon’s hand, was lazily scratching the cat’s chin, his knuckles brushing against her soft thighs with every stroke. In the background, smooth jazz was playing. It was Bianca’s favorite genre. Whenever I rode in Javon’s car, he never let me play my playlist. He said my indie rock lacked class and “ruined the vibe of the car.” My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I deleted the draft. Why was I even wasting my energy on a damn keychain? I put the phone face down on the counter and stepped into the bathroom. The grime of the hospital still clung to my skin, making me itch. I stripped off my clothes, only to realize I’d forgotten to grab a waterproof shower cap. I couldn’t get my stitches wet. I reached for my usual bath towel to wrap myself up and go look for one, but the hook was bare. In fact, the entire towel rack was empty. Shivering, I remembered there might be a spare shower cap in the bathroom cabinet. I pulled open the cabinet door and froze. The shelves had been completely remodeled. Gone were my bulk packs of drugstore soap and shampoo. In their place stood rows of high-end French skincare, luxury hair oils, and imported body washes, the exact brands Bianca used. This cabinet was my storage space, somewhere I only opened once or twice a month to restock. I had opened it just a week ago, and it had been fine. A sick, sinking feeling settled deep in my stomach. I took a rushed, awkward shower, keeping my head tilted back, then dried off with a hand towel before calling Javon. This time, he picked up on the third ring. “Yes?” his voice was clipped, as mechanical as an automated teller. “Where is my bath towel?” I asked, my voice flat. “And why is the bathroom cabinet filled with luxury skincare?” Even though Bianca had a spare key to our apartment, I had convinced myself she had never crossed the line of staying over. “How should I know where your towel is?” Javon sighed, his impatience bleeding through the speaker. “And as for the cabinet, Bianca’s water heater broke last week, so she used our shower. She has sensitive skin and couldn’t use your cheap stuff, so I picked up a few things for her. It’s no big deal.” His speech was rapid, a telltale sign of his anxiety, punctuated by the soft meow of a cat in the background. Suddenly, a sweet, sing-song voice chimed in from near the phone. “Audrey! Your old towel had a literal hole in it! I ordered you a beautiful new one from Italy, but it’s going to take a couple of days to arrive. I’ll bring it over when it gets here!” Bianca made sure to emphasize the word hole. “Look, if that’s all, I have to go. We’re busy. We’ll talk later,” Javon said, his tone sharp with irritation before the line went dead. I wondered if Javon realized that his words always tripped over themselves when he was trying to hide his shame. When we first moved to Denver, Javon used to bring me along to his college alumni gatherings. Back then, Bianca was the only person in his circle I knew, so I naturally clung to her. She took advantage of that, playing the role of my gracious guide while subtly shutting me out. Whenever someone asked me a question, she would jump in to answer for me under the guise of being helpful. She would casually drop details about how I grew up in a tiny, rural town, had never traveled outside the country, or didn’t understand luxury brands. Every time she did, Javon would frantically steer the conversation elsewhere, his words spilling out in a panicked rush. Eventually, even if other classmates invited me, Bianca would shut it down before I could speak. “Audrey works in R&D,” she would say with a sweet, patronizing smile. “She’s far too intellectual for our silly gossip and drinking games. Let’s not bore her.” After that, I was slowly excised from his social circle. When one of his close friends got married, the invitation was addressed to Javon alone. A sudden vibration startled me. It was Diana. “Audrey, the East Coast office is absolutely thrilled that you’re coming back,” she said, her professional tone warm with genuine excitement. “They’re putting together a relocation package: fully covered apartment, a company car, and immediate assistance with your city residency transfer. What day do you want to fly out?” “Book it for the day after tomorrow, around noon,” I replied without hesitation. I needed tomorrow to handle the divorce papers. I hung up and went to the bedroom to start packing. In the deepest drawer of the wardrobe, beneath a stack of documents, I pulled out a heavy wooden box. Inside were our memories. Javon and I had dated for five years and been married for three. To save every penny for our house, we had skipped the registry gifts, the wedding, and even the rings. The only physical proof of our history lay in a thick stack of cheap train tickets. There weren’t many, but I had painstakingly pasted them into a scrapbook, writing little notes beside each one. In college, we took the slowest overnight trains to save twenty dollars. But as long as I could rest my head on his shoulder, thirty hours on a hard, cramped seat felt like a luxury cruise. I turned the pages, my eyes burning with a sudden, stinging moisture. Then, a thicker, heavier envelope slipped out from the back of the drawer. I opened it, and dozens of first-class plane tickets and express rail passes spilled onto my lap. Every single one had Bianca’s name printed on it. My hands began to shake as I looked closer at the destinations. Paris. Maui. Kyoto. Every single place Javon and I had planned to go, but never did. With trembling fingers, I opened my phone and cross-referenced the dates on the tickets with my chat history with Javon. Every date that matched felt like a rusted nail driving deeper into my heart. For three years, every single one of his “urgent business trips” had been a romantic getaway with Bianca. There were cities I had practically begged him to visit with me. He had always brushed me off with the same tired excuses: I don’t have the PTO, Audrey. We’re an old married couple now, why are we trying to act like college kids? The most recent ticket stub was dated just two weeks ago. I remembered that week vividly. My mother had slipped in the bathroom and injured her back, and I had rushed back to my hometown to care for her. Even his mother had suggested Javon come with me to help with the heavy lifting. But Javon had claimed an unavoidable last-minute corporate retreat. I hadn’t pressed him. Now, staring at the first-class boarding pass to Aspen on that exact weekend, the truth sat heavy and bitter in my mouth. There was no retreat. I clutched the tickets, my eyes tracing the ink until the letters blurred. The click of the front lock snapped me out of my trance. I shoved the box back into the drawer, wiping my face. I realized with a strange, chilling clarity that I didn’t even want to confront him. It felt entirely pointless. Javon was in the kitchen when I walked out. He gestured casually to a plastic takeout container on the dining table. “Grabbed you that seafood chowder you love.” I popped the lid off. The smell of green onions and cilantro, two things I absolutely despised, hit me instantly. Floating in the watery broth was half a bitten-into scallop and a single, discarded shrimp head. “I assume this is Bianca’s favorite,” I said, snapping the lid back shut. My stomach churned with disgust. “She only had a few spoonfuls,” Javon called out, busy kneading dough at the counter, completely oblivious to my tone. “She’s not a big eater like you.” “A few spoonfuls?” I leaned against the doorframe. “If I recall, a single order of that luxury chowder comes with four whole scallops and eight jumbo shrimp. So she managed to eat all the seafood, leaving me the scraps? Funny how she has the budget for first-class trips but can’t seem to buy her own soup. She always has to take from someone else’s bowl.” Javon’s hands froze in the dough. A few tense seconds passed. He quietly swept the remaining green onions into the trash, putting on a sweet, placating smile. “I’m making those homemade pork buns you like for breakfast tomorrow.” When I didn’t smile back, he wiped his hands, took off his apron, and walked over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Look, I made a mistake, okay? I’m sorry, Audrey.” “Haven’t you been dying to buy a place of our own?” he whispered, kissing my neck. “Once the current project wraps up at the end of the month, my bonus will clear. Combined with what we’ve saved, we’ll have enough for a down payment. Let’s go look at that new development tomorrow, alright?” His sudden eagerness to buy a house surprised me. For three years, that house had been my absolute obsession, the carrot he dangled to keep me running. But I had already made my decision. The next morning, I met with my lawyer first, before meeting Javon at noon to look at the new properties. The new townhomes were beautiful, and the pricing was surprisingly reasonable. I did the math in my head: our combined salaries and bonuses over the past three years would easily cover the down payment. “What do you think? Do you love it?” Javon asked, his eyes shining with anticipation. “Trust me, Audrey. Everything is going to be perfect from now on.” Seeing the genuine hope in his eyes, a small, foolish part of me wavered. On the drive back, my phone rang. It was his mother. “Audrey, dear, are you guys home?” her voice was warm and motherly. “I brought over some fresh produce from the countryside. I’m almost at your place.” “Hi, Mom. Javon and I actually just finished looking at a new townhouse. We’ll be back in about ten minutes.” “Oh… looking at houses?” There was a sharp, sudden catch in her voice, followed by a flurry of nervous rustling. “That’s… that’s wonderful. I’ll just wait inside for you two.” But as we approached the apartment door, the heavy mahogany was thin enough to let a sharp, furious voice cut straight through. “Buying a house? Javon, where on earth are you getting the money for a house?” his mother was practically screeching inside. “If you hadn’t secretly taken Audrey’s hard-earned savings to buy Bianca her apartment, you two would have settled down three years ago! If Audrey ever finds out what you did with her money, she’ll divorce you on the spot!” The investment failure was a lie. He had taken my life savings to buy Bianca a home. No wonder he had always shut down whenever I brought up our lost money. Though it was mid-July, a bone-chilling cold swept through my veins. “Mom, relax,” Javon’s voice drifted through, dripping with smug confidence. “Even if the world ended, Audrey would never divorce me. She’s too invested in this.” “Son, just tell me the truth,” his mother lowered her voice, though it still carried. “How much cash do you actually have left?” “Mom, that money is completely off-limits,” Javon snapped, his tone instantly turning defensive. “That’s Bianca’s wedding dowry. I’m saving it for her.” “What kind of hold does that girl have over you?” his mother groaned. “You bought her a house, and now you’re paying for her future marriage dowry? Have you completely forgotten that Audrey is your actual wife?” “Mom, I haven’t forgotten,” Javon sighed, sounding utterly reasonable. “Audrey and I have a lifetime together. She can wait. But Bianca is different. When she came back after her divorce, she was completely shattered. She needed that security way more than Audrey did. Besides, as a divorcée, she needs a substantial dowry if she’s ever going to marry well again without being looked down upon.” “So in your eyes, I’m the one who’s built to take the hits?” I pushed the door open, my voice cutting through the air like dry ice. His mother gasped, her face draining of color as she forced a terrified, guilty smile. “Audrey! Sweetheart, how long have you been standing there?” “It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said, walking past her. I looked directly at Javon, my voice dead calm. “Javon, I want every single dollar you stole from my savings back in my account by tonight.” “Audrey, let’s not get dramatic,” Javon said, his eyes narrowing as defensive anger took over. “We’re married. My money is yours, and yours is mine. You’re talking like I’m some kind of thief.” “That money was my premarital property,” I replied, my voice steady. “If you don’t return it, my lawyer will see you in court.” “Fine,” Javon sneered, crossing his arms. “I’ll return the money. But it comes with a divorce.” He looked at me with smug satisfaction, confident he had the upper hand. “Audrey, think about it. We’ve been together for eight years. You gave up a massive promotion in New York to follow me to this city. Was all of that just to throw it away over a little disagreement? If you divorce me, you walk away with nothing but wasted years. And what about your family back in that tiny town of yours? A divorced woman returning home… the town gossip alone will ruin your parents.” “I agree,” I said, pulling a folded document from my purse and laying it on the coffee table. “Let’s divorce. Sign it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462281”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was stationed in Africa for eight months on a relief project. I flew back specifically for the holidays, hoping to surprise my wife. Instead, my cousin sent me a screenshot. It was my wife’s social media post, one she had specifically blocked me from seeing. She was three months pregnant. When I confronted her about whose kid it was, she had the audacity to claim her company was doing massive layoffs and this was just a “strategic pregnancy” to save her job. I told her to get rid of it or I was filing for divorce. I never imagined that she and my best friend of ten years would actually conspire to murder my mother. I dragged them to court and made sure they got locked away. As for that bastard child? Let him grow up behind bars. 1 I landed on Christmas Eve. As the Director of Research and Development for a medical device company, I had been stationed in Africa for eight long months to support the construction of a field hospital. I came back early just to give my wife, Serena, a surprise. I kept my flight details a secret. All I wanted was to drape that diamond necklace she had been eyeing for months around her neck right before the clock struck midnight. The airport was a sea of twinkling fairy lights and pine garlands. Mariah Carey’s voice echoed endlessly over the speakers. I dragged my suitcase through the terminal, exhausted to the bone but burning with anticipation. The moment I turned off airplane mode, my phone blew up. It was a flood of “Merry Christmas” texts. But one message in my family WhatsApp group stood out like a bleeding wound. My cousin Zoe had posted a screenshot with a caption. “Looks like Serena has a bun in the oven! You kept that a secret, Victor!” The screenshot was from Serena’s Instagram. It showed an ultrasound scan and a mirror selfie of her cradling a slightly swollen belly. The background was the floor-to-ceiling window of our master bedroom. The caption read: “A little Christmas miracle. You are the best gift heaven could give me. Fourteen weeks.” A loud ringing filled my ears. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head in the freezing winter air. Eight months. I had been gone for eight months. Because of a severe viral outbreak lockdown in the region, I had not been home a single time. She was three and a half months pregnant. Whose child was that? My fingers trembled as I clicked into Serena’s profile. Blank. There was nothing but an empty grid and a message saying her posts were hidden from me. It was a mocking scar across the screen. She had specifically blocked me from seeing that post. If Zoe had not taken a screenshot to fish for holiday gossip, I would still be completely in the dark. I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to call her and scream. Instead, I hailed a cab and headed straight home. Outside the window, fireworks burst against the night sky, but my heart was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I pushed the front door open. The heating was turned all the way up, making the air thick and stifling. In the entryway, next to Serena’s pink fluffy slippers, sat a pair of men’s leather shoes. They were not my size. The television in the living room was playing a holiday special, the canned laughter echoing hollowly through the empty first floor. No one was there. Faint giggles drifted down from the second-floor master bedroom. I softened my footsteps and slowly walked up the stairs. The bedroom door was cracked open. Serena’s sweet, breathy voice floated out. “Oh, Declan, be gentle. The doctor said we need to be careful during the first trimester.” “What are you afraid of? My boy is tough.” The man’s voice was deep, familiar, and dripping with sleaze. “Serena, this ‘strategic pregnancy’ idea of yours is pure genius. Those old fools at the board definitely won’t dare touch you now.” “Of course. Corporate is slashing jobs left and right. If I didn’t get pregnant, how else could I secure my spot as a partner? Besides…” Serena paused, her tone turning venomous. “With this get-out-of-jail-free card, even if that other little mess blows up, I can file for medical furlough and avoid doing any real time.” I kicked the door wide open. The two figures on the bed sprang apart like they had been electrocuted. Serena, wearing a sheer silk nightgown, frantically pulled the duvet up to cover her chest. Her face drained of all color. The man standing by the bed was Declan. He was my childhood best friend, the foster kid my mother had taken in and raised alongside me. “Victor?!” Serena’s voice violently shook. “What are you doing here? You said you weren’t coming back for another two weeks!” Declan was much calmer. He lazily buttoned his dress shirt, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. “Well, well. If it isn’t our hometown hero. I guess the malaria mosquitoes over there didn’t finish the job.” I kept my eyes glued to the slight curve of Serena’s stomach. My throat felt like it was lined with broken glass. “Whose is it?” Serena’s eyes darted around the room, refusing to look at me. “The… the company is doing massive layoffs. You know the influencer marketing industry is struggling right now. This is… this is a strategic pregnancy.” “I asked you whose it is!” I grabbed my heavy suitcase and slammed it into the hardwood floor. The deafening crash made Serena flinch. “Does it even matter whose it is?” Her eyes welled with fake tears as she suddenly started screaming at me, playing the victim. “Victor, you left for over half a year! You left me alone to deal with all the corporate backstabbing. Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me? Declan has been the only one helping me. If I didn’t do this, I would have lost my job! I did this to keep my leverage in this house. You don’t even care about what I went through, and the second you walk in, you yell at me?” The sheer audacity of her logic was nauseating. “For your job? For your leverage?” I let out a dry, bitter laugh and pointed at Declan. “So you climbed into my best friend’s bed? You used my money to fund your little affair?” “Watch your mouth, Victor.” Declan stepped forward, shielding Serena, and shoved me hard in the chest. “Serena is pregnant. She cannot handle stress right now. Yeah, the kid is mine, but legally, he will have your last name. You should be thanking me. I saved your wife’s career, and I gave your dead-end bloodline an heir.” I stared at the two parasitic monsters standing in front of me, bile rising in my throat. Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was my mother’s private physician. “Victor! It is an emergency! Your mother had a massive cerebral hemorrhage. She is in the ICU. The police are at the hospital too. They said… they said her company is involved in a massive tax fraud scheme. They are waiting to arrest her!” 2 The hospital at night felt like an isolated island forgotten by the rest of the world. Police officers stood guard outside the ICU, their expressions grim and exhausted. “You are Victor, correct?” The lead detective slid a manila folder across the sterile waiting room table. His tone was strictly business. “Regarding your mother, Eleanor. She is the prime suspect in a five-million-dollar tax evasion and corporate fraud case. The evidence chain is airtight. The money was funneled into an untraceable offshore account. As the legal representative of the company, she holds full criminal liability.” Five million dollars. My mother had run that medical export business for thirty years. She was so meticulous she would not even let a ten-dollar receipt go unaccounted for. There was absolutely no way she scammed anyone out of five million dollars. “That is impossible.” I gripped the folder so hard my knuckles turned white. “My mother barely knows how to use a smartphone. She has no idea how to operate offshore accounts! The company’s finances have always been handled by…” Before I could finish, the elevator doors chimed open. Serena stepped out, her arm intimately looped through Declan’s. She was wearing a vibrant, cherry-red winter coat. In a corridor reeking of bleach and death, that color was sickeningly loud. Her makeup was flawless. She had even touched up her lipstick. There was not a single trace of worry on her face. “Victor, don’t give the detectives a hard time.” Serena rested a hand on her pregnant belly, her tone dripping with the condescending pity of a victor. “Mom is getting old and confused. She probably just wanted to stash some cash away for your future. She must have signed those bogus contracts in a moment of greed.” “You signed them, didn’t you?” I took a step toward her, my eyes burning into hers. “My mom’s cataracts got severely worse over the last six months. She could not read a thing. You were the one reading all her documents to her. You told her where to sign!” Serena instinctively shrank behind Declan, her eyes shifting. “Do not slander me! The handwriting analysts already confirmed it. It is her exact signature. Look, I am pregnant. I cannot handle this kind of shock. If something happens to my baby, can you afford the medical bills?” Declan stepped in front of her, that greasy, triumphant smirk returning to his face. He leaned in and lowered his voice so the cops could not hear. “Give it a rest, Victor. Serena is untouchable right now. Under the law, a pregnant woman, even if indicted, gets bail and medical furlough. She doesn’t see the inside of a cell. This kid is her golden ticket.” A bomb went off in my head. The “strategic pregnancy” was never about saving her corporate job. It was about finding a scapegoat. They had planned this from the very beginning. They drained the company dry, pinned the five million dollars on my mother, and then used Serena’s pregnancy to dodge prison. They were going to walk away rich and completely free. “You sick, twisted animals…” I swung my fist, but a police officer immediately grabbed my arm and pinned it behind my back. “This is a hospital! Back off and calm down!” Right at that moment, the heavy ICU doors pushed open. The attending surgeon walked out, his scrubs soaked in sweat. He pulled down his mask and slowly shook his head. “We did everything we could. The intracranial bleeding was simply too severe. Combined with the fact that she had not taken her heart medication for days… You should go in and say your final goodbyes.” In that split second, my entire universe collapsed. The distant sound of Christmas bells outside morphed into a deafening ring of static in my ears. I shoved past everyone and ran into the room. On the bed, the iron-willed businesswoman who had raised me looked like a fragile, crumpled piece of paper. Tubes and wires snaked out of her frail body. She forced her eyes open. Her cloudy gaze drifted past me and locked onto the glaring red coat standing by the doorway. Her trembling, wrinkled hand slowly lifted, pointing a shaking finger directly at Serena. Her lips moved frantically, trying to form words, but all that came out was a wet, suffocating wheeze. The jagged green line on the heart monitor suddenly flattened into a piercing, continuous tone. The early hours of Christmas morning. While the rest of the world was wrapped in the warmth of family, my mother died, taking the blame for a crime she never committed. I turned my head. Serena was still standing by the door. I clearly saw her let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. She then exchanged a knowing look with Declan. There was no grief in her eyes. Only victory. Her gaze said it all: Dead men tell no tales. They were safe. 3 The funeral was held a few days later, right before the New Year. Because of the looming fraud scandal and the media circus surrounding it, the usually packed memorial hall was terrifyingly empty. All of her former business partners avoided us like the plague. I knelt by the casket, mechanically tossing paper tributes into the small brass fire pit. The flames licked the frigid air, but they could not melt the absolute ice in my veins. Suddenly, a loud, obnoxious commotion shattered the silence. “Hey guys! Smash that like button and subscribe! Today we are bringing you exclusive live coverage of the fraudster’s funeral!” “This is the scammer who stole five million dollars! She might be dead, but debt does not just disappear!” I whipped my head around. Serena and Declan were marching down the aisle with a massive entourage. Alongside Serena’s snobby, materialistic mother, there were at least seven or eight local TikTokers and vloggers holding ring lights and stabilizers. They swarmed the hall like a pack of starving hyenas smelling blood. They shoved their camera lenses right up to my mother’s memorial portrait and loudly critiqued the floral arrangements. “Get the hell out!” I grabbed a heavy wooden ceremonial staff and charged at them, my eyes bloodshot. “This is a funeral! Not a backdrop for your pathetic clout chasing!” “Oh, look who is getting aggressive.” Declan stepped up and blocked my path, playing the victim perfectly for the cameras. “Serena is the daughter-in-law. She is carrying the first grandchild of this family. She is just here to pay her respects. Instead of figuring out how to pay back the people your mother robbed, you want to assault a pregnant woman?” Serena was wearing a custom-tailored black maternity dress that looked ridiculously expensive. She had done her makeup to look incredibly pale and vulnerable. The moment the lenses pointed at her, her eyes brimmed with perfectly timed tears. “Guys, I am just so heartbroken. Yes, my mother-in-law did terrible things, but she is still family. I came here to help make amends. Please do not cyberbully my husband. He is just lashing out because he cannot handle the truth…” Her acting was so flawless it belonged in Hollywood. The live chat on the phones instantly flooded with comments: “Protect Serena at all costs!” “Such a beautiful, strong mom.” “That guy is a violent psycho.” Serena’s mother immediately collapsed onto the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing theatrically. “Oh, Lord in heaven! My poor pregnant daughter comes to pay her respects, and they want to beat her! Where is the justice? Your mother got what she deserved, Victor! Are you trying to bully a defenseless pregnant girl?” My knuckles cracked as I gripped the wooden staff. I wanted nothing more than to smash their skulls in right then and there. But I knew I could not. There were a dozen cameras broadcasting live. If I took a single swing, the label of “Violent Abuser” and “Wife Beater” would be permanently cemented to my name. Seeing me hold back, Declan grew even more arrogant. He pulled a crisp legal document from his tailored jacket and slapped it loudly against the memorial altar. “Victor, we didn’t just come to mourn. We came for business. This is Eleanor’s final will.” Declan waved the paper in the air. “The company might be bankrupt, but your mother still had a few prime real estate properties and trust funds in her name. The will states clearly: everything goes to the unborn child in Serena’s womb.” I stared coldly at the so-called will. The signature looked perfectly like my mother’s. But the date on the document was from the exact month her vision had deteriorated so badly she could not even read large print. “That will is forged.” “It is fully notarized. You think you can fight that?” Declan sneered. “Victor, the house you are living in right now is part of the estate. I need you packed and out by the end of the week. We need to prepare the nursery for Serena. The feng shui there is perfect for raising a baby.” They wanted to move the murderers into the victim’s home to raise their bastard child? It was the ultimate desecration. They were grinding my dignity into the dirt. “Fine.” I took a deep, shuddering breath, dropped the wooden staff, and let my eyes go completely dead. “Take the house. Take the money.” Serena and Declan exchanged a surprised look. They clearly did not expect me to fold that easily. “Glad you finally understand your place.” Serena dabbed at her dry eyes with a tissue. She stepped close, leaning in to whisper directly into my ear. “Accept your fate, Victor. You cannot beat us. This baby is my absolute shield. As long as he is in my belly, there is nothing you can do to me.” I looked at her face, slightly twisted by overwhelming greed, and the very last shred of affection I ever held for her turned to ash. “We will see about that.” 4 I moved into a cheap, rundown motel downtown. On the surface, I spent my days drinking heavily. I posted depressing, self-pitying quotes on my social media, painting the perfect picture of a broken, defeated man who had given up on life. In reality, it was a smokescreen. I needed them to lower their guard. I knew Serena too well. She was greedy, but careless. Declan was ruthless, but arrogant. They thought that because my mother was dead, all the evidence died with her. But they forgot one crucial detail. I used to be the lead engineer for our tech company. And I was still my mother’s son. My mother did not understand modern technology, but she had a habit she kept for thirty years: she always kept meticulous records. Not in a ledger, but in a place they would never think to look. While Serena and Declan were busy moving into my family home and throwing lavish parties, I secretly contacted Martha, our housekeeper of ten years. Martha had always despised Serena’s entitled attitude. “Victor, honey. I got the thing you asked for.” In the dim corner of a quiet diner, Martha handed me a heavy, wrapped package. Her eyes were red and swollen. “Your mother didn’t deserve this. Victor… the night she died, I saw Declan kick her pill bottle under the sofa…” My heart violently clenched. I took the package. Inside was a vintage bronze mantel clock. My late father had bought it at an auction years ago, and it had always sat dead-center on the bookshelf in my mother’s home office. Serena always complained it looked ugly and tried to throw it out multiple times, but my mother fiercely protected it. Because it was not just a clock. I flipped the heavy bronze base over and unscrewed a tiny, hidden bolt. With a soft click, the bottom panel popped open. Resting inside the hollow cavity was a high-grade audio recorder and a high-capacity SD card. It was part of the “home security grid” I had custom-built for my mom. She didn’t know how to access cloud servers, but she knew that as long as this clock was running, it recorded everything that happened in that office. My hands shook as I shoved the SD card into my laptop. Hundreds of video and audio files popped up. I clicked on the one with the most recent timestamp. The video was a top-down angle. The lighting was slightly dim, but the audio was crystal clear. In the background, my mother was coughing violently. “Mom, just sign it. Once the five million is moved offshore, the company dodges the audit. This is all for Victor’s future,” Serena’s voice coaxed sweetly. “No… This is illegal! If that money leaves the country, it is never coming back! What are you two trying to do?” “Listen, you old bat, we are doing you a favor,” Declan’s voice suddenly cut in. Then came the sound of a physical struggle. In the frame, my mother was violently shoved onto the leather sofa. She clutched her chest, her face turning a sickly shade of purple. Her trembling hand reached desperately toward the small bottle of heart pills resting on the coffee table. “Pills… help…” A foot wearing a designer stiletto stepped into the frame. It casually kicked the pill bottle. The plastic bottle rolled across the hardwood floor, disappearing out of the camera’s view, sliding deep under the sofa. “Oh no, the pills fell,” Serena said, her voice as light and bubbly as if she were discussing brunch. “Declan, look how far they rolled. She cannot possibly reach them now.” “Then let her crawl for them. Are you going to sign it? If not, just die!” Declan spat ruthlessly. In the video, my mother writhed in agony. Her fingernails scratched against the leather sofa, making a horrifying, desperate sound. Minutes passed until she finally stopped moving. Serena casually picked up the prepared legal documents, grabbed my mother’s stiffening hand, and pressed her thumb onto the ink pad to stamp the papers. “Is she completely dead?” “Pretty much. Call 911. Let’s put on a show.” The video ended. I clamped my jaw so hard I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Tears were streaming down my face, blurring the laptop screen. This was not a white-collar financial crime. This was murder. Cold-blooded, premeditated murder. But releasing this video to the police right now was not enough. Serena was pregnant, and she had successfully weaponized public sympathy. If I went to the cops, Declan might take the fall, but Serena would use her medical condition to delay trial or claim the video was doctored. They could still escape with millions. I needed to completely annihilate them. I needed to wait until they were at the absolute peak of their arrogance, and then burn their lives to the ground. Right then, a notification popped up on my phone. Trend Alert: Lifestyle influencer Serena to host a massive Valentine’s Day Charity Gala. She will address the inheritance rumors and launch her new organic supplement line: “Mother’s Glow.” Valentine’s Day. What a perfect date. Since you two love putting on a show, I will give you the grand finale of a lifetime.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462280”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 At my eighteenth birthday party, Mom gifted her adopted daughter twenty percent of the company’s shares. I, on the other hand, received nothing but a cheap, laminated Model Daughter certificate. My eyes stung, and the lump in my throat made it hard to breathe. I couldn’t help but look at my mother and ask, “Mom, is this stock transfer agreement actually real?” But in the next second, right in front of all the high-society guests, my mother lashed out at me. “Marsha, you are my biological daughter. You need to keep your distance so people don’t whisper about favoritism!” Then, the glowing comments drifted across my vision again. [If the FL just swallows her pride and apologizes, her mom will hand over thirty percent of the shares instantly! The contract is already signed and waiting!] [Don’t be so stubborn, baby! Just give her a sweet smile and call her Mom. She would give you her whole heart if you just asked.] [Ugh, I live for the daughter-pleasing-mother trope. It is a total mutual-healing vibe!] Mom had always been like this, playing hard to get, desperate for my submission on the inside. And every time before, I had followed the comments’ advice to appease her. But now, I was done playing the eager-to-please puppet. I looked at my mother, whose eyes held a flicker of expectation, and said quietly, “Understood, Ms. Eikenberry. From now on, you only have one daughter, and her name is Lexi.” Mom froze, completely blindsided by my response. A collective gasp rippled through the ballroom as the guests began whispering furiously among themselves. “What is wrong with Marsha tonight? Did she lose her mind?” “How could she say something so heartless to Ms. Eikenberry? Her mother must be devastated.” Whether my mother was devastated or not, I did not care. I only knew that over the years, my own heart had been shattered into a million pieces. Mom always did this, hiding behind the excuse of fairness. “Marsha, you are my biological daughter. I cannot just hand you everything on a silver platter.” “Lexi is adopted. I have to show her extra care so she feels like she belongs.” When I first heard those words years ago, they felt like a knife to the chest. But then, the black text of the floating comments began to appear before my eyes. I followed their instructions, swallowing my pride and begging for her affection, and she would always reward me with exactly what I wanted. That was when it clicked. Mom did not actually hate me; she just wanted to break me. She wanted me to crawl, to beg, to play the submissive, grateful daughter. But I was exhausted. I was done playing her sick little game of emotional leverage. The comments flashed across my screen again. [What is wrong with the FL today? Why isn’t she kissing up to her mom?] [FL, go apologize right now! You can’t just bully your mother like this!] [Seeing the hurt on the mom’s face is making me tear up. Poor mom.] Reading the words, I instinctively looked up at the stage. Sure enough, Mom’s eyes were rimmed with red. Catching my gaze, she forced down her vulnerability and glared at me with icy resolve. “Marsha, what is the meaning of this? Are you cutting ties with me?” Before I could answer, Lexi glided over to my side. She looked stunning in her designer ballgown, the diamond necklace around her neck catching the crystal chandeliers’ light and glittering brilliantly. Yet, just a week ago, on my own eighteenth birthday, I wore a faded t-shirt and jeans. We had a simple, quiet dinner at home. “Marsha, Mom has money, but we shouldn’t be wasteful,” Lexi had whispered to me then. “Just the family celebrating is enough.” Except it was not a celebration for me at all. The dining table had been packed with Lexi’s favorite dishes. At the time, I thought Lexi was not getting a party either, so I kept my mouth shut. It was not until last night, when I accidentally found Lexi’s custom-made gown in her closet, that I realized Mom was planning a lavish, high-society debutante ball just for her. Lexi’s sweet, mocking voice brought me back to reality. “Marsha, please don’t break Mom’s heart. You are her real daughter!” “If you are upset about the shares, I can give them to you. I don’t mind giving them up.” Give them to me? A cold laugh escaped my lips. I was the biological daughter, yet I had to rely on the charity of an adopted sister. But Lexi was not lying. Everything I had ever received from Mom, through my tearful apologies and desperate pleading, had indeed been handed down after Lexi had her fill. The comments flared up again. [Lexi baby, that’s a gift from your mother. Do not give it away!] [The FL just needs to admit she’s wrong, and her mom will forgive her instantly.] [Apologize already! We are all waiting for the mother-daughter reconciliation arc!] I forced myself to ignore the text. Without glancing at Lexi, I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit. “Marsha Eikenberry! If you take one step out of this room, I will wash my hands of you!” I paused. I could hear the collective sigh of relief from the crowd. Turning my head back slightly, I saw the tension hidden beneath my mother’s mask of fury. Just as the comments said, she did care about me in her own twisted way. But I refused to play her game any longer. I looked at Lexi and offered a polite, empty smile. “Congratulations. You are now the only child of the Eikenberry family.” Then, I walked out without looking back. On the cab ride home, the comments kept spamming my vision. [Oh honey, you are breaking your mother’s heart!] [When you get home, plan a sweet surprise for her. Tell her it was all a joke and say you’re sorry. You have to apologize!] [FL, you can’t just rebel like this. I hate this kind of plot development!] They were just lines of floating text, but the sheer volume of them made my head throb. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the noise. This time, I was going to live for myself. But when I unlocked the front door, I was shocked to find Mom already waiting in the living room. The comments immediately flared up. [Look how much her mom cares. Her own daughter treated her like that, and her heart is bleeding.] [Hurry up and run into her arms, FL!] My resolve wavered. If she offered even a shred of warmth, a single word to ask me to stay, I knew I would break. I opened my mouth to speak, but Lexi came bouncing down the stairs. She shot me a smug, triumphant look, but when she turned to Mom, her voice was timid and trembling. “Mom… are you sure you want me to supervise Marsha?” Supervise? Before I could process the word, Mom’s voice, devoid of any warmth, cut through the air. “Yes. Keep a close eye on her.” “Since she wants to sever ties, let’s make it official.” “Watch her pack. She is only allowed to take her personal belongings. Nothing else.” The harsh reality slapped me in the face, freezing the warmth that had briefly flickered in my chest. Yet, the comments were still making excuses for her. [Apologize now! Your mom is just talking out of anger!] [You are her biological daughter. If you just soften your tone, she will forgive you in a heartbeat!] But being her biological daughter had never brought me peace, only a lifetime of silent suffering. I looked up, my gaze cold and dead. “I won’t take anything that belongs to the Eikenberrys.” Ignoring her burning gaze, I walked straight to my room. I pulled open my closet. Inside were rows of cheap, plain white t-shirts and worn-out jeans. Lexi’s mocking voice drifted from the doorway. “Marsha, look at this trash. I guess you really can only take these rags.” “You bought them with the pennies you earned from your embarrassing little jobs anyway. Leaving them here would just ruin the vibe of my house.” My hands paused over a folded shirt. She was not wrong. Ever since I was five years old, if I wanted something, I had to earn the money myself. Two dollars for dusting, three for sweeping, five for doing the laundry… Even though we had a full-time housekeeper, I did most of the chores. Once, our housekeeper took pity on me and washed my clothes for me. When Mom found out, she fired her on the spot. I had begged and cried for the woman, but Mom remained unmoved. “Marsha, you do your own work. This is the price of trying to take the easy way out and letting others do your job!” Lexi had stood in the corner back then, giggling quietly while sweetly telling Mom not to ruin her mood over me. Pushing the memories aside, I stuffed my clothes into my suitcase. As I zipped it up, I noticed Mom standing at the doorway, watching me silently. Lexi stepped forward, blocking my path. “Wait, Marsha. Mom bought that suitcase. You can’t take it.” I stared at my mother in disbelief, but she simply nodded. “Do what Lexi says.” My heart turned to ash. I dumped my clothes onto the floor, pulled a bedsheet off my bed, wrapped them up in a crude bundle, and slung it over my shoulder. As I walked out, I heard Mom dialing her phone behind me. “Cancel Marsha’s credit cards. And transfer her university exchange spot to Lexi!” I froze, a sharp pain piercing my chest. The money in my account was earned from my own part-time jobs. The university exchange program was a merit-based spot I had spent months studying to secure. Yet, with one phone call, Mom gave it all to Lexi. Behind me, Lexi cooed, “Mom, is Marsha really leaving us for good?” Mom let out a cold, dismissive laugh. “She’ll be back in a few days begging for mercy. Without the Eikenberry name, she is absolutely nothing.” But Mom was wrong. I had already secured a fully funded scholarship for an international exchange program. My flight was in three days. It wasn’t until I checked into a cheap motel that I finally let out a breath. My cards were frozen, but I had enough cash from my tutoring jobs to survive for three days. Once I settled in, I called the international admissions office. “Hello, I just wanted to confirm… the exchange program covers full tuition and provides a monthly living stipend, correct?” When the officer on the other end confirmed, the heavy weight on my chest lifted. I was finally going to escape this suffocating cage. But the comments were furious. [FL, how can you just run away to Europe like this? Go back and apologize to your mother tomorrow!] [Don’t be so selfish! Your mother is crying her eyes out at home, and here you are celebrating your escape!] [They say daughters are their mothers’ sweet little angels, but you are just a cold-hearted brat.] Ignoring the text, I opened my phone and scrolled through social media. The very first post was from Lexi. [First day as an only child! Candlelight dinner with Mom~] The attached photo showed Lexi and Mom smiling brightly, sharing steak and raising glasses of champagne. A bitter laugh escaped me. So this was the crying her eyes out the comments were talking about. I went to close the app, but my finger slipped, and I accidentally liked the post. When I refreshed a second later, Lexi’s post was gone. I knew her games. It was just another petty attempt to rub my nose in it. But the comments immediately defended her. [Lexi is so sweet. She just wanted to show FL that she and Mom are doing fine, but did you see Mom’s swollen eyes? She’s clearly been crying.] [The FL is way too much this time. She broke her mother’s heart, and honestly, she is breaking ours too!] I closed my eyes. No matter what they said, my mind was made up. The next morning, a headline caught my attention. Mom had used her official public relations account to announce that Lexi was now the sole heir and only daughter of the Eikenberry family. My throat tightened, and I blinked back tears. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Mom. [Marsha, if you come home and beg for my forgiveness, I might consider letting you back into this family.] She had no idea that I no longer cared about being a Eikenberry. For three days, I stayed in my room, ignoring the constant stream of nagging comments. When I was at home, I couldn’t even sleep without worrying about how to make Mom happy. Now, for the first time in my life, I felt peace. I packed my clothes into a cheap new suitcase I bought down the street and went to hand over my room key at the front desk. But when I opened the door, Mom was standing there, her face contorted with rage. Behind her stood a sniffling Lexi. Before I could move, Lexi lunged forward and grabbed my arm, her sharp acrylic nails digging deep into my skin. Mom took a step forward, her eyes instinctively darting to my bleeding arm, but she stopped herself. She was waiting for me to break. “Marsha, please give me back my diamond necklace!” Lexi sobbed. “I’d give you anything else, but that was my eighteenth birthday gift from Mom. You can’t take it!” Her grip tightened. Unable to bear the pain, I wrenched my arm away. Lexi collapsed to the floor with a dramatic cry. Mom immediately rushed to her side. “Lexi! Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Lexi shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I’m fine, Mom. As long as Marsha gives the necklace back, a little pain doesn’t matter.” Glancing at the blood dripping from my arm, I said coldly, “I don’t have your necklace, Lexi.” Before I could finish, Mom snapped. “Stop lying, Marsha! Lexi only took that necklace off in your room, and now it’s gone! You stole it!” Her words felt like a physical blow. I thought I had grown numb, but why did it still hurt so much? “I didn’t steal it,” I said quietly. “Maybe she misplaced it.” My refusal to back down pushed Mom over the edge. “Search the room! Find that necklace!” Six bodyguards stepped out from behind her. Before I could react, they barged into my room. Panic surged through me. “What are you doing? This is illegal!” Mom sneered. “Illegal? I’m your mother! You are only acting defensive because you are guilty.” I stared at her in shock. “I didn’t do it! I’m not a thief!” The comments floated by. [Her mom is going to extreme lengths just to get her to apologize.] [Yeah, her mom knows Lexi hid the necklace herself. She just used it as an excuse to see her daughter.] [I hope FL realizes her mother’s hidden love soon so they can make up.] The words froze in my throat. So Mom knew. She knew Lexi was lying, yet she still came here to humiliate and break me. She just wanted to force me to my knees. But I wouldn’t admit to something I didn’t do. “Mom…” Lexi whimpered. Mom waved her hand dismissively. “Hold Marsha down. Search everything!” Two large men grabbed my arms, pinning me to the wall. One of them squeezed right over my bleeding cut, and a sharp gasp escaped my lips. Mom’s eyes flickered with a brief flash of worry. Lexi noticed and immediately chimed in, “Mom, I was just so desperate to find the necklace. I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Mom patted Lexi’s head gently. “It’s fine. She brought this on herself by stealing. She deserves to be punished.” I felt completely hollow. She knew the truth, yet she chose to frame me. The comments kept chanting: [Look at her mom’s face, her heart is breaking, but she has to stay strong to teach her a lesson.] [FL, do you even know what a mother’s love is? She only does this because she loves you so much!] Love? I wanted to laugh. No real mother destroys her child in the name of love. My arm throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. The bodyguards ripped my suitcase open, tearing my cheap clothes and scattering my underwear across the floor. The humiliation was suffocating. I closed my eyes, praying for it to end. But they found nothing. Suddenly, Mom’s phone rang. “You found it? Fine. Got it.” Lexi let go of her act, and the bodyguards released me. My knees buckled, and I slid to the floor, exhausted. Lexi ran to Mom’s side. “Mom, did they find my necklace?” Mom nodded. “Yes. Back at the house.” Lexi looked at me, then looked down. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was just so worried, I ended up hurting Marsha.” But Mom excused her instantly. “It’s fine. She has a tongue, but she refused to explain herself. It’s her own fault.” Then, Mom turned to the guards. “Bring her back to the estate.” “What? No! I have a—” Mom’s icy gaze cut me off. “If you won’t admit your mistakes, I’ll have to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” She knew I was innocent, yet she was still going to lock me up. They dragged me to the basement of the estate, throwing me into the windowless storage room. Panic instantly clawed at my throat. When I was a child, whenever I made a mistake, I was thrown in here. Over time, I developed severe claustrophobia. In the pitch black, my mind would fracture, leaving me paralyzed with terror. Eventually, I learned to play the perfect, obedient daughter just to avoid this room. I curled into a ball in the corner, shaking violently. The comments kept scrolling. [Her mom just wants to hear her say sorry. Stop being so stubborn, FL!] [Your mom loves you the most. You have to understand her tough love.] I couldn’t even process the text through the tears. Then, the heavy bolt on the door slid back. Lexi’s smirking face appeared in the crack of light. “Feeling lonely, Marsha? Don’t worry, I brought some friends to keep you company.” She threw something heavy onto the floor and slammed the door shut, locking it. A dry, hissing sound echoed through the darkness. Lexi had thrown snakes into the room. My scream died in my throat as absolute terror took over, and my world went black. When I finally woke up, the door was wide open, and the snakes were gone. From upstairs, I could hear Mom and Lexi’s voices. “Mom, what about Marsha?” “Leave her. Let’s go buy you those new dresses you wanted.” Once the front door slammed shut, I dragged my trembling body toward my phone, which had fallen out of my pocket. With shaking fingers, I dialed the only number that could save me. “Hello… is there any way the university can send someone to pick me up?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462279”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“Professor Adler, I am heading back stateside soon. Could you please talk some sense into Phillip? Convince him to take the teaching position and stay at the university?” Professor Adler let out a heavy sigh over the phone. “Freya, what you and his family did back then truly broke that boy.” “Whether he stays or leaves is entirely out of my hands. It is his life.” Freya’s voice trembled, bleeding with desperation. “Professor, I know I messed up. I just want to come back and make things right with Phillip. Please, you have to help me!” Professor Adler looked through the glass window of her office, watching me meticulously prepare test tubes in the lab. She took a moment to steady her breathing. “Freya, a mistake is a mistake. You and Simon intentionally tampered with his food. You poisoned him so Simon could steal his fellowship spot. You nearly killed him.” “Expecting his forgiveness now? You are asking for a miracle.” 1 I was right in the middle of organizing my research data when Professor Adler called me into her office. “Phillip, Freya is flying back from Europe.” I froze for a split second before a bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “She chose Simon. Her coming back has absolutely nothing to do with me.” “I am hardly going to waste my time chasing a ghost.” Professor Adler slid two application folders across her desk. “Freya and your parents have been calling me non-stop. They want me to convince you to accept the faculty position here.” “The choice is yours. Whatever you decide, I will back you.” I looked down at the two folders. Two entirely different futures laid out right in front of me. Without a word, I reached out and pulled the bottom folder toward me. Professor Adler let out a long, quiet breath. “I knew it. I knew you could never just sweep it under the rug.” I grabbed a tissue from her desk, handed it to her, and crouched down beside her chair. “It is not about holding onto grudges, Professor. I just do not want my life entangled with theirs anymore.” “The Defense Institute is secluded. It will be quiet. That is all I want.” Her eyes softened, swimming with a quiet heartbreak. She had watched her favorite student endure an unimaginable betrayal, and she had been powerless to stop it. “Do what your heart tells you, Phillip. I will handle your parents. I will get them off your back.” I took her wrinkled hand in mine, my chest tight with gratitude. “Thank you, Professor. For everything you have done these past few years.” I was just reaching for the doorknob to leave when her voice stopped me. “Phillip. I know there is a lot of anger in you. But your mother is unwell. She has been in and out of the hospital. She really wants you to visit.” I clenched my jaw, my knuckles turning white around the brass handle. “She gave you life, Phillip. Just go see her once before you leave.” I gave a stiff nod. My throat felt like sandpaper when I finally spoke. “Okay.” 2 Standing on the porch of the house I had not visited in years, a storm of messy emotions brewed in my chest. I raised my hand to knock. Before my knuckles even grazed the wood, the door swung open. “Phillip. You actually came. Come in, get out of the cold!” My father ushered me inside. I swapped my boots for slippers and immediately noticed the dining table. It was piled high with fresh fruit, all my favorites. “Your mom has been having dizzy spells. I asked Professor Adler to see if you would come by.” “I bought fresh fruit every single morning. I figured whenever you decided to show up, you would have something good to eat.” My dad stood there, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. I reached out to grab an orange, but the second my fingers touched the rind, a screeching voice echoed in my head. Put that down! We did not raise you to eat our food and talk back to us! I violently jerked my hand back and stood up straight, staring blankly at the walls. Everything was so familiar, yet utterly suffocating. My dad took a step forward, his eyes full of concern. “Phillip? What is wrong?” I swatted his hand away, my voice dropping to an icy chill. “Where is she? I have places to be. Let us get this over with.” His face fell. The forced cheerfulness cracked, replaced by a pathetic begging look. “Could you stay for just a couple of days?” “No.” I spun on my heel, ready to walk right back out. “Phillip!” Two stray tears rolled down my dad’s cheeks. “Your mom is at the hospital. She wants to see you.” “We know we messed up. She wants to apologize to your face. She is your mother, Phillip. Please just go look at her.” My hands balled into tight fists. A blazing, uncontrollable fire shot straight to my brain. “You know you messed up?” I barked. “The only thing you know is that Simon is never coming back from Europe!” “You finally realized he is not going to stick around to spoon-feed you in your old age. So suddenly, you remember you have an actual biological son!” “Where was this energy when you let Simon and Freya poison my food? When I was hooked up to a ventilator, did it cross your minds that I was your real son?” My dad stumbled back as if I had shoved him. His usually rigid posture crumbled, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “It has been years, Phillip. Can you not just give us a chance to make it right?” “Freya is coming back. She promised us that the moment she lands, she will marry you.” I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Dr. Brooks, do you honestly believe I would take back someone else’s sloppy seconds?” He choked on his words. The silence stretched out, thick and heavy. “You two still have a history,” he finally mumbled. “She is coming back specifically for you. We all know how much you loved her. Growing up, whatever she wanted, you gave it to her. Whatever she broke, you fixed.” I stared at him with absolute disgust. “So that was your logic? You banked on my love for her to get away with ruining my life?” “No!” He shook his head frantically. “Simon is your cousin. His parents died. We just wanted to help him get a leg up.” A cold smirk played on my lips. “Help him? You wanted me to drop out of the fellowship competition and hand him my spot on a silver platter.” “But why did you let them spike my food? I almost died in that ER!” My dad looked away. He could not meet my eyes. “Simon told us it would just give you a bad stomach bug. We never thought…” I did not let him finish. I walked right out the front door, leaving him with one final thought. “I will go to the hospital. But whatever little family reunion you are plotting, drop it.” 3 Sitting on the subway heading back to campus, I zoned out, staring at the young couple sitting across from me. They were giggling, admiring the matching rings on their fingers. Phillip, you have to wear this all the time. If I ever catch you taking it off, you are dead meat! Freshman year. Freya had bought us matching promise rings. She claimed it made our childhood pact official. After shoving the ring onto my finger, she had held out her right hand, her cheeks flushed pink. Well, dummy? Put it on your fiancée! My hands had been shaking when I slid that silver band onto her ring finger. When I pulled her into my arms that night, I genuinely believed I held the entire universe. The automated voice announcing my stop dragged me back to reality. The moment I unlocked my dorm room, my phone buzzed. Unknown number. I hit decline. Two seconds later, it buzzed again. “Who is this?” Total silence on the other end. Then, a soft intake of breath. “Phillip. My flight lands the day after tomorrow. Will you pick me up at the airport?” My chest seized. Hot anger flared in my throat. “Freya. Are you really this delusional?” “Can you just talk to me like a normal person?” she snapped back, her voice tinged with annoyance. “This is the first time you have answered my call in years, and you immediately start insulting me.” I scoffed. “Is there a problem with that? You ran off with another guy!” “Did you really expect me to roll out the red carpet?” I could hear her taking a deep, exaggerated breath. “I am moving back for good. Professor Adler already told you about the faculty position, right? We can…” I hung up. I blocked the number immediately. I opened my desk drawer and pulled out the folder Professor Adler had given me. It looked like a standard university faculty application, but underneath was a heavily redacted contract. A Level-1 DOD clearance agreement for a ten-year classified communications project. I was on the shortlist. I grabbed a black pen, signed my name on the dotted line, and walked straight to Professor Adler’s office. “You are sure about this?” she asked, looking at the signed pages. “Once I send this up the chain, there is no backing out.” I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in years. “I stopped looking backward a long time ago, Professor.” “Your father called me about your visit,” she mentioned quietly. “He said your temper is worse than ever. He begged me to talk some sense into you.” I rolled my eyes. “The absolute nerve of that man.” She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. I knew what she was thinking. “I will visit the hospital, Professor. I promised you I would. But please, do not ask me to forgive them.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Just go.” 4 First thing the next morning, I bought a fruit basket and a bouquet of cheap flowers and took an Uber to the hospital. I found the room number. The moment I pushed the heavy door open, the bathroom door clicked, and Freya stepped out. “Oh! Phillip, you ruined the surprise!” My mother scrambled to sit up in her hospital bed, her face lighting up. “Phillip! You are here, come sit down!” I completely ignored Freya. I set the flowers and fruit on the bedside table and looked at my mother. “What did the doctor say?” Her eyes instantly glossed over with tears. “Nothing serious. Just high blood pressure. They are giving me fluids, and I should be fine.” I nodded. “Good. Then I am leaving.” I turned around, but Freya grabbed my forearm, her grip tight. “Phillip, your mother is sick in a hospital bed. Would it kill you to stay and keep her company for an hour?” “Let go of me,” I said, my voice dead flat. Freya stared at me, looking genuinely shocked. “I cannot believe you are speaking to me like this!” “How else am I supposed to speak to you?” She took a shaky breath, trying to play the bigger person. “Fine. I know you are still mad at me. But I am back now. I will marry you.” “This is what you always wanted, right? I am giving it to you. Just drop this ridiculous attitude like the whole world owes you something.” I stood there, perfectly still, letting her finish her little speech. “Freya,” I said softly, making sure she heard every single syllable. “You are absolute trash.” She froze. The color drained from her face, and her eyes welled up with angry tears. I did not stick around to watch the meltdown. I walked right out of the ward. Freshman year. Simon’s parents my aunt and uncle had been killed in a massive highway pileup. My parents took him in without a second thought. They ordered Freya and me to tutor him, begging us to help him pull his grades up so he could transfer to our university. He was not exactly sharp, but my parents pulled strings behind the scenes. Somehow, the admissions office lowered the threshold just for him. You guys are the best. I will take care of you when you are old, I swear. My parents ate it up. They bought him a brand-new car on the spot as a college acceptance gift. I had been standing in the living room, ready to ask why I had never gotten a car. Freya had grabbed my sleeve, pulling me back. Do not be jealous, Phillip. If they are giving things to Simon, obviously they will give things to you too. I figured she was right. I was the biological son, after all. Soon, Simon was texting Freya constantly, asking her for private tutoring sessions. My time with her vanished. Whenever I brought it up, she would just laugh and poke my forehead. He is your cousin, idiot. Are you seriously jealous of family? I felt a gnawing in my gut, but I pushed it down. Simon had a tragic backstory. He struggled in class. My parents told me to step up. So, I started tutoring him too. Then came the night we stayed up late going over his finals. Freya went to the kitchen to cut some fruit. Simon watched her walk away, his eyes glued to the curve of her waist. Man, I am so jealous you have a girl like her. I want one exactly like that. Every alarm bell in my head went off. I glared at him, my voice dangerously low. “Obviously. She is the girl I have been claiming since day one.” I got up to help Freya in the kitchen. I did not see the toxic, venomous glare Simon shot at the back of my head. A few months later, the excuses started. Whenever I had a robotics competition or a lab deadline, they would suddenly have “study breaks” out of town. They started finding weird reasons to get me out of the apartment. I knew something was wrong. So, I lied. I told them I had an overnight seminar out of state. I waited behind the apartment complex. I watched them walk out with overnight bags, laughing, Freya’s arm looped tight through his. They were heading straight for his car. I stepped out from the shadows and stood directly in their path. Freya ripped her hand away from Simon’s arm like she had been burned. “Phillip! I thought you were at the seminar?” I let out a dark chuckle. “Care to explain where you two are going?” Simon opened his mouth, but Freya stepped in front of him. “Phillip, please do not overthink this. I treat Simon like a little brother. That is all it is.” Under her terrified gaze, I grabbed a baseball bat from the garage and smashed the windshield of Simon’s car to pieces. My parents rushed over after getting the panicked phone call. When they heard what happened, my dad got right in my face, veins popping in his neck. “What is wrong with your head? Why are you always making up these psychotic conspiracy theories?” I picked up an orange from the kitchen counter, peeling it slowly. “I trust my own eyes. I trust what I see.” “They are sleeping together. I caught them sneaking off. There is no conspiracy here, just facts.” My dad slapped the orange right out of my hand. “Put that down! We did not raise you to eat our food and talk back to us!” I bent down, picked up a slice of the orange, popped it in my mouth, and chewed slowly. I looked at my parents, then at Simon and Freya. “So you would rather believe their pathetic lies than your own son’s eyes?” My mom stepped forward and smacked my shoulder hard. “What facts? They are just a brother and sister going on a road trip. So what if they linked arms?” “You spend too much time in that lab. It has rotted your brain!” Looking at the four of them, glaring at me like I was the villain, I realized something broke inside me. Words were useless here. “Freya. We are done.” “Excuse me?” she gasped. My dad lunged forward and backhanded me across the face. I rolled my jaw, feeling the sting. “I said, we are over. The engagement is off.” 5 Freya collapsed onto the floor, sobbing while my mother rubbed her back. I walked out of the house with my dad’s screaming echoing down the street. Simon ran out after me, shouting for the neighborhood to hear. “Phillip, wait! It is my fault! I should not have dragged her on a trip with me!” He jogged up beside me. Once he knew the others could not hear him, his face twisted into a nasty grin. “She thinks you are boring, Phillip. She told me I am way more fun.” “She was screaming my name, telling me I was better than you ever were.” “If you are not going to play with a toy this good, I will gladly take your turn.” I swung hard. My fist connected squarely with his jaw, sending him crashing into the pavement. My dad sprinted out of the house and kicked me in the ribs. All three of them surrounded Simon, checking his bloody lip, completely ignoring me. My mother crouched in the dirt, screaming every curse word in the book at me. Freya just looked at me, her makeup smeared. “Why are you doing this, Phillip?” I lay on the pavement, clutching my ribs, looking at her with pure nausea. “Ask him.” My dad practically threw Simon into the car and sped off to the ER. I watched the taillights fade. I slowly pushed myself up off the concrete and limped the three miles back to campus. The next day, my phone rang. Freya. “Phillip. Simon said he was just trying to explain that we were going as friends, and you just lost your mind and assaulted him.” I laughed, a dry, hollow sound. “If that is the story you want to run with, go ahead. You do not need my approval.” Twenty minutes after I hung up, she was banging on my dorm door. “Your parents want you to apologize to him, Phillip.” I leaned against the doorframe, looking down at her. “And do you agree with them?” She bit her lip and nodded. I actually burst out laughing. “You know exactly what you and Simon did behind my back.” “You know exactly why I hit him. And you have the audacity to stand in my hallway and demand I apologize?” “Do you have no shame left at all?” Tears pooled in her eyes. “Stop talking to me like that.” “I only view him as a brother. That one time… you were ignoring me, and I got drunk, and it just happened.” “It was only one time! I am not the trash you think I am!” I took a deep breath, trying to stop my hands from shaking. She kept going. “I promise you, I already told him we can never cross that line again. It is over.” “Get out!” I roared, my voice shaking the walls. Freya flinched, all the blood draining from her face. She backed away, shaking her head in disbelief. “You are telling me to get out?” She nodded rapidly, her face twisting with rage. “Fine. I am leaving. But do not come crawling back when you regret this!” I slid down the doorframe, pulled my knees to my chest, and bit down on my lip until I tasted copper. I never went back to that house again. By my senior year, a rumor started circulating. Simon, a junior who could barely pass standard chemistry, had miraculously finished all his credits early. He was graduating a year ahead of schedule. Just as the campus gossip hit its peak, Professor Adler called me in. “Your parents called in every favor they had to fast-track his graduation. They want him to qualify for the full-ride doctoral fellowship at Oxford.” She handed me an application form. “The committee wanted to hand you the fellowship without an exam based on your lab work.” “But your father lobbied the board. He demanded a fair, competitive exam for all candidates.” I took the form and aggressively signed my name. “It does not matter, Professor. Simon is not a threat to me academically.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462278”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My sister and I are the twin bosses of a notorious horror game. As everyone knows, twin bosses in horror games always share a unique, bound trait: we must be killed at the exact same time. If even one of us survives, we will infinitely resurrect. So, when my sister fell in love with a player who entered our dungeon, choosing to surrender her boss status and leave the game to live in the real world with him, I didn’t care. After all, if things went south and she died out there, she would simply respawn back home with me. But by the third year of her departure, I noticed myself growing weaker and weaker. It reached a point where even absolute rookies entering the dungeon could easily slaughter me and clear the game. Finally unable to bear it any longer, I forced my way out of the dungeon, determined to see what on earth my sister was doing. Instead, I found her in a hospital room, her body covered in tubes, barely kept alive on life support. Meanwhile, the boyfriend she had abandoned everything to follow was shamelessly using the massive dungeon points she had accumulated to buy rare items, all just to please some cheap, red-lipped woman. Staring at this utterly ridiculous scene, a chilling, distorted smile spread across my face. Since you are too greedy to kill her because of her points, then I will do it myself. 1 When the iron sword pierced my chest, I didn’t even have the strength to fight back. The male player in front of me, clad in cheap, starter-cloth armor, was so terrified that he collapsed onto his backside, letting go of the sword’s hilt entirely. “Did… did I just solo a boss?” He stared at his hands in disbelief, before erupting into an ecstatic scream, spinning around to shout at his distant companions. “Holy crap! Is this really the dungeon boss? She’s pathetic! She just stood there and let me hack her to pieces!” “Awesome job! I thought this dungeon was supposed to be the Rookie Graveyard? Guess those forum posts were just hyping it up!” A group of clueless newbies crowded around, gesturing wildly at my corpse, their eyes gleaming with the greedy satisfaction of an easy kill. I stared coldly at their pathetic celebration as my vision faded to black. What a humiliating way to die. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the core chamber of the dungeon. The weightless disorientation of resurrection hadn’t even cleared before I forced my weakened body upright. The lightning-shaped, ghostly blue sigil at the corner of my eye burned with raw fury. I looked up at the holographic control panel floating in the air. Glaring red warning lights pulsed across the screen. What was once a legendary S-class dungeon, a nightmare to even the top-tier players, now bore a shameful B-class tag. I clenched my fists, fingernails digging deep into my palms until dark crimson blood dripped onto the floor. Too weak. My current power wasn’t even a fraction of what it had been at my peak. As twin bosses of this brutal realm, my older sister, Seraphina, and I shared our life force and power. We rose together, and we fell together. Three years ago, my painfully naive sister surrendered her godlike powers for a player named Marcus. She abandoned the game and crossed into the real world to live what she called a normal life. How had I tried to warn her back then? “Humans are nothing but bottomless pits of greed and deceit, Seraphina. If you go out there completely defenseless, they will strip you to the bone and leave absolutely nothing left!” But she had only smiled, patting my head, her once-regal face filled with a desperate longing for cheap, fleeting warmth. “Val, Marcus is different. He showed me what real warmth feels like. I want to take a chance on him.” Warmth? To hell with that. A sudden, violent cough tore through my chest, and I spat out a mouthful of dark, stagnant blood. Feeling my life force drain away at a terrifying rate, I could almost smell the rot of my own soul. Seraphina was in trouble in the real world, a mortal danger so severe it was dragging me down with her. If she had the decency to just die, it would be fine, she would simply respawn here in the core, and we would rule our domain once more. But if she was kept in some half-dead state, she would drag me down to an eternity of pathetic weakness. Looking at the screen, staring at the absolute system protocol: [Dungeon Entities Strictly Forbidden From Exiting Game], a dark smirk curved my lips. I gripped my bone butterfly knife, channeled every ounce of my remaining power, and slammed the blade directly into the core of the console. “Warning! Unauthorized system tampering detected!” “Warning! Critical system vulnerability detected. Dimensional barrier compromised…” The shrill, mechanical alarm blared through the chamber. The massive backlash of energy instantly tore open the flesh of my hand. Blood dripped down the blade, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I drove the knife even deeper. The indestructible glass shattered, and a dark, jagged tear in space ripped open before me. It was a rift to the mortal realm, filled with chaotic currents that would shred a normal human to pieces. Without so much as flinching, I stepped right into the void. 2 The agonizing tearing sensation felt like it was ripping my soul to shreds. By the time my feet hit solid ground, my surroundings had completely changed. The sharp, clinical stench of bleach and rubbing alcohol hit me instantly. A private hospital in the mortal world. The localized reality protocols kicked in immediately, suppressing my already shattered power down to the level of a frail human. I clung to the cold wall, panting heavily, looking up as I followed the faint, agonizingly fragile tether of our twin bond. At the end of the corridor was a tightly closed intensive care room. My twin senses screamed that Seraphina was on the other side of that door. Peering through the small glass window on the door, the horrific scene inside finally met my eyes. On the bed lay a woman who was nothing but skin and bones. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin a ghastly, translucent grey, and her once-glorious dark hair was a matted, dry mess scattered across the pillow. A dirty, oversized hospital gown hung loosely off her skeletal frame, soaked through with some strange chemical fluid. If it weren’t for the residual thrum of our bloodline, I would never have believed this pathetic husk was my older sister, the legendary boss who had once slaughtered countless elite players without mercy. Dozens of thick medical tubes clung to her skin like bloated leeches, draining her veins. A heavy monitor beside the bed beeped rhythmically, actively harvesting her accumulated dungeon points and pumping them out. I watched her through the glass. I felt no pity, only a deep, burning contempt for her sheer stupidity. No wonder I couldn’t even beat a rookie back in the dungeon. I spun my blood-stained butterfly knife with practiced ease. There was no room for hesitation. I had to kill her. The moment she drew her last breath, the twin-reset protocol would trigger. We would shed these fragile, pathetic mortal shells and respawn at full strength back in our domain. My hand gripped the cold brass handle. But just as I prepared to step in and slit her throat, voices drifted through the crack in the door. “Marcus, baby, how many points does this monster have left anyway? I saw these gorgeous S-class glowing vanity wings in the shop yesterday, and I’m still short thirty thousand points.” A woman in a skin-tight, scarlet leather dress leaned against the bed. She twirled a strand of her dyed burgundy waves with bright red-lacquered nails, her eyes dripping with smug condescension. Beside her stood a man in a tailored designer suit, pushing up a pair of gold-rimmed glasses. Marcus, the pathetic worm who had coaxed Seraphina out of her kingdom. Marcus offered a sleek, greedy smile. “Don’t worry, Raven. That stupid bitch is a walking goldmine. As long as we keep her on life support, the points will keep rolling in.” Raven giggled, casting a disgusted look at Seraphina’s limp body. “God, she’s repulsive. If it weren’t for the free points, I wouldn’t spend a single second in this smelly room looking at her pathetic face.” “Just bear with it a little longer,” Marcus chuckled, pinching Raven’s chin. His voice was filled with sheer mockery. “If I hadn’t played the devoted boyfriend and fed her a few cheap lies about warmth, she would have never surrendered her core crest. A literal monster thinking she could live a normal life with humans? It’s hilariously pathetic.” “Oh, Marcus, you’re absolutely wicked.” Raven giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling down his expensive silk tie. Marcus pinned her against the edge of the mattress. To the steady, mechanical beeping of Seraphina’s life support, they began to make out, tearing at each other’s clothes right in front of my dying sister. Listening from the hallway, my stomach churned with pure disgust. I knew my sister was blind, but I didn’t realize she had crawled into bed with garbage. Trading her divinity for this cheap piece of trash, reducing herself to a living battery. It was pathetic. I gripped my butterfly knife tight, the blue sigil on my temple throbbing with sheer hatred. I couldn’t stand the sound of their breath for another second. Inside, the rustling of clothes indicated they were finishing up. I took a half-step back, raising my leg to kick the door open and slaughter them both. But before my boot could make contact, the brass handle clicked, and the door swung open from the inside. 3 The moment the door opened, I found myself face-to-face with Marcus. He was casually adjusting his tie while Raven stood behind him, smoothing out her tight red dress. When his eyes landed on my face, he froze, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. “Seraphina?” Raven shrieked, her manicured finger trembling as she pointed at me. “How is that possible? The brain-dead bitch is literally still hooked to the machines inside!” Marcus, however, was quick to recover. The shock in his eyes melted into a chilling wave of pure greed. “She’s not Seraphina,” he whispered, his eyes scanning me like I was a mountain of gold. “She’s the twin boss… Valerie!” I didn’t waste time on words. Reversing my grip on my bone butterfly knife, I lunged, aiming directly for his carotid artery. But as the blade cut through the air, my limbs felt incredibly heavy. Seraphina’s dying state, combined with the crushing reality suppression of this realm, had reduced my physical capabilities to practically nothing. I was weaker than an average human. My once-lethal strike was a joke to him. He stepped aside easily, slipping a gold-glowing card from his jacket. “High-tier item: Absolute Stasis.” A blinding flash erupted, and translucent, heavy chains materialized out of thin air, binding my wrists and ankles. I hit the floor with a dull thud. The bone butterfly knife slipped from my grasp, clattering into a dark corner. “Oh, Marcus, you’re amazing!” Raven cheered. She strutted over, slamming her sharp heel right onto the back of my hand, grinding it into the floor. “Talk about a buy-one-get-one-free deal! Hook her up to the harvester too! I’ll get my wings in no time!” Marcus grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back with a cruel laugh. “Patience, Raven. The twin boss system is complex. We need to figure out how to siphon both of them without triggering a system override. Take her to the basement.” This private clinic was Marcus’s personal playground, and he had a fully equipped dungeon of his own beneath the floorboards. I was dragged down into the pitch-black basement and suspended from the ceiling by heavy titanium cuffs. “Tell me,” Marcus snarled, holding a crackling high-voltage whip. “Where is the link to the twin core? How do we drain your point reserves?” The whip lashed across my chest. Blinding blue electricity surged through my skin, sending agonizing shocks straight to my nerves. I bit my lip until it bled, letting out a weak, raspy chuckle. I stared at him with eyes that promised his absolute death. “Think you’re tough?” Raven sneered, stepping forward with a vial of corrosive acid she had bought from the system shop. She grabbed my jaw, her face twisted with bitter jealousy. “This pretty little face of yours is just as annoying as your sister’s.” She tipped the vial, pouring the acid directly over my shoulder. My flesh bubbled and hissed, the agonizing chemical burn eating through skin and muscle to the bone. I entire body convulsed. Cold sweat soaked my clothes, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of a scream. They took turns torturing me, using every cruel item in their inventory. Soon, there wasn’t a single patch of uninjured skin left on my body. My blood dripped steadily from my toes, pooling on the concrete floor. But my mind remained razor-sharp. With every strike, I mapped out a hundred different ways to tear them apart. Pain was nothing. As long as I kept breathing, I would carve this debt into their very souls. “Marcus, the bitch is about to pass out, and she still won’t talk,” Raven huffed, wiping blood from her hands. Marcus frowned, reaching for a more brutal tool, when the system tracker on his wrist began to beep frantically with a loud countdown. 4 The shrill countdown echoed through the damp basement. Marcus’s face darkened, and he ripped off his tie in frustration. “Damn it. The mandatory dungeon queue is pulling us in.” Raven pointed a blood-stained finger at me. “What about her? We just leave her here?” “We have to. If we ignore a mandatory summon, the system will delete us,” Marcus growled. He tapped the wall panel, tightening the cuffs around my wrists until they cut off my circulation. “Leave her alive. We’ll finish her off when we get back. It’s just a low-tier B-class run anyway. We’ll be back in a few hours.” “Lucky bitch,” Raven spat, kicking dust in my direction. Two flashes of light enveloped them, and they vanished into thin air. The basement plunged into a heavy, suffocating silence. I stared at the heavy titanium bands around my wrists. The high-tier magic keeping them locked was incredibly strong, but my physical body was already numb from the torture. A bloody, chilling grin stretched across my lips. With a sudden, violent wrench of my left hand, I slammed my wrist against the sharp edge of the cuff, deliberately shattering my own thumb and wrist bones. The loud pop of cracking bone filled the quiet room. Without blinking, I dragged my mangled, bloody hand out of the metal ring, leaving a trail of skin and flesh behind. With one arm freed, the weight pulled me down, and I crashed onto the hard concrete. My internal organs screamed in protest. Coughing up a glob of dark blood, I used my good right arm to drag my broken legs across the floor, inch by painful inch. In the dim light of the corridor, my bone butterfly knife lay waiting. I grabbed the hilt, and the familiar cold texture made my blood boil with adrenaline. Step by step, I dragged myself up the dark, narrow stairs, leaving a thick trail of dark blood behind me. I clawed my way back to the top floor, right back to the intensive care unit. I pushed the door open. Seraphina lay there, looking more like a rotting corpse than a living being, the monitor still pulsing with that weak, mechanical beep. Clinging to the bedside frame, I forced myself upright. I looked down at her gaunt, ruined face, feeling nothing but a cold, hard resolve. “Sera, this pathetic nightmare is over.” Without another word, I raised the knife and drove it straight into her heart. The blade sank deep. Warm blood splashed across my face, and the monitor emitted a long, shrill, continuous tone as the green line went completely flat. At that exact moment, in the dead forest of the B-class dungeon, Marcus stepped out of the portal, his arm wrapped around Raven’s waist. “Marcus, it’s so creepy here… I’m scared,” Raven whimpered, clinging to his chest. “Don’t be,” Marcus said, adjusting his glasses and kissing her forehead. His voice was oozing with arrogance. “It’s just a low-tier run. With the legendary armor I just bought, we could clear this with our eyes closed. Just think of it as a vacation.” But as the words left his mouth, a massive, jagged crimson tear ripped open the dark sky above them. The ground beneath them began to violent shake, and then, the cold, mechanical voice of the system, a voice that struck terror into the hearts of every elite player, boomed across the sky: “CRITICAL WARNING!” “REAL-WORLD TWIN CORE RESYNCHRONIZATION DETECTED. DEATH-RESET MECHANISM SUCCESSFULLY ACTIVATED.” “CURRENT REALM UNDERGOING FORCED STRUCTURAL EVOLUTION… RECONSTRUCTION COMPLETE.” “THIS REGIONAL B-CLASS DUNGEON HAS BEEN UPGRADED TO: SUPER S-CLASS!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462277”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was the campus golden boy’s biggest simp. I would practically grovel at his feet, sending desperate late-night texts just to get his attention. [Hey, you still awake?] On the other end: [Yeah.] Even that single, freezing reply was enough to make my heart skip a beat. But a second later, a bizarre status notification popped up at the top of the chat window: The user mocked you and shared your pathetic chat history with the entire dorm. I froze. Dumbfounded, I tapped on the profile of his roommate, the terrifying campus bad boy who supposedly despised me and was notoriously homophobic. The user’s mouth curved up by exactly three pixels. Baby texted me. Smells so good. The user is re-reading your message and unzipping his pants. I went completely numb. What on earth was going on? 01 The chat window was acting incredibly weird. If I didn’t figure out the truth tonight, there was no way I would sleep. When I walked into Asher’s dorm room, he was holding his phone out, showing it to the guys. The second his eyes landed on me, his expression turned stiff. My chest tightened. Could those status prompts actually be real? I took a step closer, trying to sneak a peek at his screen. “Hey, Asher. What are you guys looking at?” Asher’s thumb quickly swiped, and he held up a gaming screenshot. His roommate chimed in. “Man, you should have seen it. Asher just pulled off a twelve-kill streak. Absolutely insane!” I let out a quiet breath. Of course. How could I even believe those weird pop-ups? I placed the carton of milk I had bought for him on his desk. “Remember to drink this, Asher. I will save you a seat for lectures tomorrow morning.” Asher gave a careless shrug of agreement. Just as I turned to leave, the bathroom door swung open. Ryder stepped out in a hurry, completely shirtless. I nearly crashed straight into his chest. He leaned against the doorframe, looking down at me. Droplets of water glistened on his pale, defined abs, slowly tracing the lines down. Thinking back to the filthy prompts on his chat status, my ears began to burn. “Ryder,” I mumbled. “What?” he asked. As he spoke, his gaze flicked to the desk. Everyone in the room had a carton of milk on their desk. But Asher had two, while everyone else only had one. I could not exactly ask Ryder about the crude messages on my phone screen. Losing his patience, Ryder brushed past me, his shoulder hitting mine. “If you don’t have anything else, get out.” So hostile. On my walk back to my dorm, I kept my eyes glued to the screen, where the status updates were still rolling. Asher: The user is enjoying a massive ego boost. Ryder: Smells so sweet. What laundry detergent does baby use? So frustrating. I am going to lose my mind. What was this absolute nonsense? Annoyed, I reported the app for a system glitch. 02 I woke up early just to secure a prime spot for Asher in the lecture hall. I waited and waited until he finally walked through the door. He looked tired from pulling an all-nighter, his hair slightly messy, but he still looked effortlessly handsome. Excited, I waved my hand. “Asher! Over here!” Immediately, heads turned. People started whispering. I tried to ignore them, but Asher instantly looked uncomfortable. “Hey, Asher! Sit over here!” a girl called out from a few rows down. Asher hesitated for a fraction of a second before walking past me to sit right next to her. My face burned with embarrassment. I should not have yelled his name in front of everyone. The whole campus knew I was gay. But Asher had not accepted me yet. He hated being associated with me too closely in public. As I sat there wallowing in regret, someone suddenly loomed over my desk. “Is this seat taken?” Ryder had walked in right behind Asher, witnessing the entire painful scene. I shook my head, and Ryder slid into the seat next to me. He was wearing a black hoodie, his hands pale and clean. He reached into the desk compartment and pulled out the breakfast sandwich I had bought for Asher. “Can I eat this?” Well, Asher was not going to eat it anyway. I nodded quietly. Without another word, Ryder tore open the wrapper. I was still sulking, staring blankly at the blackboard. Beneath the desk, Ryder gave my sleeve a gentle tug. “Still upset?” “No.” Ryder let out a low chuckle. “I am not eating your food for free. I will Venmo you.” I wanted to refuse. We were not close enough for me to buy him breakfast, and I had only added his number to keep tabs on Asher’s whereabouts. But I did not stop him. The moment class ended, Ryder’s long legs carried him out of the room ahead of me. My phone buzzed. Ryder sent you $52.00. I hated rich people. A pastry and a carton of milk were nowhere near worth fifty-two bucks. Annoyed but unable to resist free money, I accepted the transfer and glanced at his status. The user’s mood is skyrocketing. 03 Asher rarely initiated conversations. So when he texted me asking if I wanted to play basketball with him, I practically flew to the courts. But when I arrived, my heart sank. It was not just Asher. He had only invited me because they were short a player to make even numbers. Still, when they split into teams, I immediately joined Asher’s side. Ryder was there too, playing for the opposing team. He seemed to be in a terrible mood today. Every time I brushed past him during a play, his brow was furrowed in a tight, dark line. 04 During halftime, I volunteered to grab drinks. I set a heavy plastic bag of cold bottles on the grass, opened one, and handed it directly to Asher. The other guys on the court, who had warmed up to me after a game, started teasing. “Damn, Toby, you really know how to take care of a guy. Asher, man, just give in and date him already.” “Yeah! Thanks for the drinks, sweet cheeks!” I smiled at Asher, and he smiled back as he took the bottle. Everyone scrambled to grab a drink, leaving Ryder standing at the very back. I picked up the last bottle and held it out to him. “Here.” Ryder glared at the bottle, scowling, then turned on his heel to buy his own from the vending machine. I had heard he had a nasty temper. Brushing it off, I unscrewed my own drink and took a sip. When I unlocked my phone to check my messages, I saw the chat status had updated again. Asher: Ego fully stroked. Feeling a massive rush of secret satisfaction. Meanwhile, Ryder’s chat was loading frantically, scrolling with endless updates: Why did he open the bottle for him? He’s smiling again. He smiles so sweetly. Stop smiling at him. So jealous. I want to lock him away so no one else can look at him. I felt a burning gaze on me. I looked up and locked eyes with Ryder. His stare was raw, intense, and predatory. The chat status could not possibly be real. But then why was Ryder looking at me like that? Did I do something to piss him off? 05 When the second half started, Ryder played with a terrifying intensity. Single-handedly, he completely dominated the scoreboard, crushing our team. Someone on our side groaned in frustration. “Is Ryder trying to get scouted for the NBA or what?” “Seriously. It’s not like there are girls watching. Who is he playing so hard for?” Asher’s face grew incredibly tense. He gritted his teeth and tried to keep up. Gradually, my stamina gave out, and my movements slowed. Drenched in sweat, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up to wipe my face. My pale, slender waist was fully exposed in the bright sunlight. Just as Ryder dribbled past me, he suddenly grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand down. The referee instantly blew the whistle, calling a foul on him. I pulled my shirt down, staring at him in utter confusion. But Ryder just stood there, a faint, unbothered smirk playing on his lips. 06 Accidents are bound to happen on the court. As I was trying to block a player, someone slid into me, sending me crashing hard onto the concrete. “Ah!” I gasped, struggling to get back up. My knee was badly scraped and already starting to swell. Even with someone supporting me, I could not put any weight on it. “Damn, Mason, you hit him like a truck! Look what you did to his leg!” “Get him to the clinic. That’s going to get infected if we don’t clean it.” I tried to limp, but a sharp, blinding pain shot up my leg. “Don’t move, Toby. Someone needs to carry you.” Everyone turned their eyes to Asher. They all assumed Asher was the closest to me and would be the one to take me. But right then, the campus bell rang, and crowds of students began flooding onto the pathways nearby. Asher hesitated. The silence grew heavy and incredibly awkward. I was about to tell them it was fine, that I could hop there myself. But suddenly, a firm hand gripped my arm, and a broad back blocked my view. “Get on.” Short and commanding. It was Ryder. 07 He was tall, and his shoulders were incredibly broad. The campus paths were lined with blooming jacaranda trees, their purple petals drifting down around us. I looked up at the sky. Ryder carried me in silence before suddenly speaking up, his voice low. “What do you guys talk about?” “Huh?” Ryder’s voice softened even more. “I am not good at talking. You always have so much to say to him. Can you talk to me like that too?” I was trying to pursue Asher. The sweet, heart-fluttering things I wrote to my crush were not exactly things I could share with a guy I barely knew. So, I stayed silent. As we walked, Ryder suddenly gave me a slight jolt, tossing me higher on his back. Startled, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. “What are you doing?!” Ryder let out a soft laugh, his large hands securing his grip under my thighs. “Nothing. My hands just slipped.” He gently set me down on the examination table in the clinic, standing by as the nurse began disinfecting my scraped knee. I winced, hissing through my teeth. Maybe trying to distract me from the pain, Ryder suddenly asked, “What do you even like about Asher?” I looked down. During our freshman year, someone had found out about my sexuality and posted about it on the anonymous school forum. The thread stayed pinned at the top for three agonizing days. I was dissected, judged, and ridiculed by the entire campus. I felt like my world was ending. I had crawled into a dark corner behind the old bleachers to cry by myself. Then, Asher had appeared. He walked up to me, handed me a bottle of peach milk, and told me to stop crying. That same night, the forum thread was hacked and permanently deleted. Someone told me they saw Asher leaving the computer lab. From that moment on, I decided Asher was my hero. Gradually, I began following him around like a shadow. Even though he never gave me a straight answer, the rare smiles he threw my way were enough to keep me going for months. The sharp sting of the alcohol prep pad made me flinch, tears welling up in my eyes. When I looked up at Ryder, my nose pink and eyes watery, I must have looked incredibly pathetic. “Ryder, I won’t be able to get around much for a while. Can you do me a favor?” Ryder knelt down in front of me, his gaze surprisingly gentle. “What do you need?” “Help me win Asher over.” I heard his knuckles pop as his hands clenched into tight fists. I flinched. Ryder had a reputation as a ruthless bad boy. Was he going to hit me? “It’s fine if you don’t want to!” I stammered, my voice trembling. Ryder’s eyes looked slightly bloodshot. “I’ll do it. But you have to promise me one condition.” 08 Early the next morning, Ryder knocked on my dorm door. I handed him the breakfast bag I had packed for Asher. He didn’t take it. Instead, he stared down at me with a blank, unreadable face. “So, do we hug first?” He took a step closer, pulling me firmly against his chest. My face pressed directly into the warm, solid muscle of his torso. I went completely stiff. Before I could even process what was happening, Ryder snatched the breakfast bag from my hand. He turned and walked away. The door slammed shut behind him. How terrifying. The condition I had agreed to back in the clinic was simple: I had to teach Ryder how to date. He claimed he had been single his entire life, and though he had a crush on someone, he was too terrified to make a move. He wanted me to teach him the ropes. My heart was still hammering against my ribs from how natural his embrace had felt. Assuming the breakfast had been delivered to Asher by now, I pulled out my phone and texted him. [Did you like the breakfast?] [It was decent. The banana milk was really sweet.] Huh? I had packed peach milk. Did I grab the wrong carton? I opened my chat with Ryder to ask him about it. But the moment his chat window loaded, his status caught my eye: The user is so embarrassed they want to kick a wall. They want to grab you and kiss you senseless. How alarming. I decided it was safer not to poke the bear. 09 Ryder started coming to my room more and more. Sometimes we practiced holding hands; sometimes we practiced hugging. Even my roommate got used to his constant presence, teasing us one afternoon. “Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you two were dating. You’re practically glued to each other.” I watched as Ryder’s lips curved into a faint, satisfied smirk. The audacity! My roommate had no idea he was joking with the campus bad boy. Ryder was only getting dating experience from me to use on his actual crush. Did he want to get killed? I quickly glared at my roommate to shut him up. Then, I turned a flattering smile on Ryder. Ryder’s expression instantly turned icy. He snatched the box of chocolates I had bought for Asher and walked out. The door slammed so hard the walls vibrated. After I showered, I received a rare, unsolicited message from Asher: [That was really sweet of you. Those chocolates are expensive.] His status read: Touched. I was a bit surprised. They were only about twenty dollars. That wasn’t really expensive. [By the way, my birthday party is next Friday. You should come.] Asher was actually inviting me. Overjoyed, I exited the chat, my eyes naturally drifting to Ryder’s status. Because I had been asking him to deliver things to Asher for me, I ended up texting him far more than I ever texted Asher. His status at that moment read: A little overwhelmed by the sweetness, but loving every second of it. 10 On the day of Asher’s birthday party, the weather was miserable. The moment I stepped outside, the sky opened up. I had an umbrella, but to protect the carefully wrapped gift in my arms, I let myself get completely drenched. By the time I finally reached the lounge bar, I realized Asher hadn’t sent me the room number. I called and texted him, but got no reply. His status read: Drunk and having a blast. A cold gust of wind made me shiver. I stopped a server, gave them Asher’s name, and was guided down a dim hallway to a private VIP room. I smoothed down my wet clothes, trying to look presentable, and prepared to knock. But then, through the heavy door, I heard my own name. The atmosphere inside was nothing like I had imagined. The heavy, suffocating stench of alcohol and vape smoke leaked through the gap. The harsh, neon purple lights cast ugly shadows on everyone inside. “Yo, Asher lost the round! Truth or dare, man. What’s the deal with that gay kid who follows you around like a lost puppy? Are you actually going to date him?” Asher’s voice sounded slurred, distorted. “No way in hell. I like girls. I just think he’s hilarious. It’s fun to play along.” “Oh, damn!” The room erupted into loud, mocking laughter. My heart felt like it had been violently squeezed. “Keep going, keep going!” “Asher lost again! This time, it’s a dare! Call your little simp, put it on speaker, and tell him you love him! We want to hear his reaction!” Everyone in the room cheered, their faces twisted with cruel excitement. “Yeah! Let’s see how fast he loses his mind.” Asher looked a bit uncomfortable. But with his friends egging him on, he pulled out his phone. A second later, my screen lit up with Asher’s incoming call.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462276”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My father’s first love and my mother’s boy toy showed up at our door looking for a fight. At first, I figured it had nothing to do with me. Until Dad’s first love narrowed her eyes and pointed straight at me. “Why does she get to spend your money studying overseas? Your money is mine. That woman’s daughter has no right to touch it.” Then Mom’s boy toy actually whined at her. “Babe, we’ll have kids of our own someday. The daughter you had with that old man doesn’t deserve your money.” I laughed from pure disbelief. I was the heir my grandfather had trained himself. And these two thought they could come after what was mine? 01 Sometimes, no matter how capable you are, you still have to do things you don’t want to do. Like now. On a bright, lazy afternoon I could have spent doing absolutely anything else, I was sitting here drinking tea with a room full of idiots. The tea was just the right temperature. I took a slow sip. Grandpa was getting old. His health had been failing these past few years, and lately all he wanted was to see the family at least pretending to get along. For that one small wish of his, I had agreed to live with my parents for a while before leaving the country. A little show of fatherly kindness and filial devotion. Something to put an old man’s heart at ease. I just hadn’t expected them to be this stupid. Two leeches raising two more leeches, and now they wanted to challenge me. I didn’t even lift my eyes. “Marissa, at your age, the whole delicate little mistress act is a bad look.” Her face stiffened. “And besides, Grandpa kicked my dad out of the company’s core management ten years ago. What exactly are you showing off for?” My father, Victor Whitmore, and his first love, Marissa Vale, both went pale. My mother was just about to laugh at them when my next sentence wiped the smirk right off her face. “And Mom, this little boyfriend of yours is really not it. He looks like boiled chicken. Pale, soft, one stiff breeze away from passing out. Kidney deficiency vibes, honestly.” I tilted my head. “And kids? Does he not know you’ve already gone through menopause?” “You brat!” My father straightened up in front of the woman he loved, suddenly brave. “We are your elders! Is that how you speak to your elders?” “Exactly! Menopause? What menopause? You’re making things up!” My mother, Lauren, snapped too. “Briar, we finally sit down together for tea, and you have to make it this ugly?” I picked up a napkin and dabbed at the corner of my mouth. Honestly, after living with Grandpa at the old estate all these years, I’d almost forgotten what kind of people they were. My parents had been a classic business-marriage disaster. After I was born, they each went off to play their own games. Their concern for me was basically nonexistent. When I was little and living in this villa, they spent all day partying outside and didn’t come home for more than a year. I was abused by the live-in nanny until I was nearly starved to death. If Grandpa hadn’t returned early from a project in Europe, I would have died in this house. After that, Grandpa was furious. He froze my father’s trust for three years, kicked him out of the company, and took me back to the old estate to raise me himself. Without my parents’ care, I finally had a peaceful childhood. After college, I planned to study abroad and expand our overseas markets along the way. But Grandpa was getting older. He hoped my parents and I could repair things, so he asked me to live with them for a while before I left. A chance to reconnect, he said. Now it seemed there was no need. Bringing their lovers home to provoke me. What was this supposed to be, a lesson in parental authority? Only idiots like my parents could come up with something this ridiculous. I looked at them and smiled. The next second, I flipped the table. After what happened with the nanny, I had learned kickboxing for self-defense. Marissa reacted fast and dodged. Mom’s boy toy shielded her, so she was fine too. Dad wasn’t so lucky. Scalding tea splashed all over him. He opened his mouth to curse, but I cut him off with one cold look. “Mom. Dad. You don’t have the ability to act like elders, so don’t try to pull rank with me.” I dusted off my clothes. “What, did age take your brains with it?” I had no interest in wasting more breath on them. “Briar! I’m your father!” Dad finally lost it. “Is this how you talk to your own father?” Mom couldn’t hold back either. “Briar! I carried you for ten months!” “Do you know I nearly died on the operating table giving birth to you? And this is how you treat your mother?” They usually lived their own separate messy lives, but when it came to dealing with me, they were impressively in sync. “I know all that,” I said, smiling as I pulled a stack of documents from my bag. “That’s why I brought you gifts today.” “Dad, did you know Marissa has a son? Motherly love really is powerful. For her own kid, she can even tolerate someone as old and ugly as you.” “And Mom, your puppy here has been using your money to date more than a dozen girls at school. He’s all over the campus gossip page. You should take a look.” The scene instantly turned brutal. Screams, shrieks, accusations, all tangled together. I blinked, picked up my bag, and walked out. Honestly. They couldn’t even recognize the people sleeping beside them, and they wanted to fight me? 02 After handling some work that evening, I went back to the old estate to see Grandpa. The moment I stepped through the door, the butler came forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore arrived this afternoon. They’ve been keeping the old gentleman company.” I raised an eyebrow, not surprised. When I entered the living room, sure enough, the three of them were on the sofa. Victor was bent forward, carefully offering Grandpa a cup of freshly brewed pu-erh tea. Lauren sat on the other side, gently massaging Grandpa’s shoulders. Grandpa leaned back against the sofa, smiling. The moment he saw me, he lifted a hand and beckoned, his voice growing stronger. “Briar’s back? Come here, sweetheart.” The harmonious atmosphere in the room froze instantly. Dad’s hand paused in midair, the smile on his face almost cracking. Mom’s hands stopped moving too. The corners of her mouth visibly dropped. Grandpa acted as if he didn’t see their expressions. He waved a hand. “All right. You’ve both kept me company all afternoon. Go home. I have some things to discuss with my granddaughter alone.” “Dad, we…” Mom tried to speak, but Grandpa swept one glance over her, and she shut up immediately. Dad didn’t dare defy him. He could only stand up through gritted teeth. As he passed me, he shot me a vicious glare. Mom followed behind him and rolled her eyes when she walked past me. Once they were gone, the living room fell quiet. “Come. Let’s go to the study. Play a game of chess with me.” Grandpa braced himself on the armrest and slowly stood. I hurried forward to support his arm. His body had gotten worse year after year. The man who once carried me running through the courtyard now had to catch his breath after only a few steps. Even when he placed a chess piece on the board, his hand trembled faintly beyond his control. We hadn’t walked far when Grandpa spoke first, his voice calm. “I heard about what happened at the house today.” “Your parents have always been foolish. You know that.” My hand paused around the chess piece. I said nothing. “These years, you’ve done very well. You learned the company from me. You’re much stronger than either of them.” “In the blink of an eye, that tiny girl grew up.” His voice thickened. “I still remember when you were born. Such a small little thing. I named you Briar. People said a girl couldn’t carry a name that strong.” “I wasn’t happy about that at all.” He tapped the chessboard. “My granddaughter can carry any name in the world.” He looked at me. “And you proved it. You handle the company cleanly, decisively. I knew it. My granddaughter was born to stand above the crowd.” Tears suddenly rolled down his face. “But I still worry about you. A sharp mind can cut the person who carries it. You understood too much too early. You’re sensitive, and those parents of yours are unreliable.” “When I’m gone, what will you do alone?” “Grandpa,” I said, sniffling, “I’m not alone. I still have you with me. I’ll be fine.” Grandpa shook his head and patted the back of my hand. “Put studying abroad on hold for now.” His eyes were tired. “I’ve already given instructions. Starting tomorrow, you will act in my place as chair of the board.” He paused. “But you must promise me one thing. No matter what foolish thing your father does in the future…” “Make sure he never lacks food or shelter.” 03 I became so busy at the company that I barely had time to breathe. Everyone was waiting to laugh at me, waiting to see how a young woman like me could possibly sit firmly in the chairmanship. The first person to come looking for me was Dad. He didn’t even get to see my face before security escorted him out of the building. After all, he wasn’t even a shareholder anymore. Just a spoiled trust-fund failure living off family money. But I hadn’t expected Grant Blackwell to come back to the country. He was the grandson of my grandfather’s closest friend. Born into a military family, broad shoulders, narrow waist, handsome features. Exactly the kind of man most girls would find attractive. My parents had arranged the engagement themselves. Their plan was simple. They hoped I would fall head over heels for that pretty face, lose myself in romance, become as brainless as them, and then let them coax the Whitmore shares right out of my hands. Unfortunately for them, they miscalculated. Since I started learning company business from Grandpa at fifteen, I had seen plenty of men with beautiful faces and rotten intentions underneath. Over the years, I had always been lukewarm toward Grant. He, too, only came looking for me when he remembered I existed. “Briar.” Grant walked up to my desk, his voice carrying just the right amount of concern. “I heard everything. Your grandfather handed the whole group over to you.” “You’re a young woman, suddenly taking on a business this big. The pressure must be enormous. How can your body hold up like this?” He leaned forward slightly, his tone growing gentler. “I’ve already taken a leave from school. I’m back for good this time.” “Briar, you don’t have to carry this alone. I’ll help you.” “I studied financial management overseas. And we’re engaged. It’s only right that I help you manage the company.” Listening to him, I nearly laughed out loud. For a moment, I couldn’t decide whether Grant had no brain, or whether he thought I didn’t. Men were born with this absurd confidence. They always believed that if they were handsome enough and said a few pretty words, women would fall madly in love and hand over everything they owned. I raised an eyebrow, just about to respond, when a powerful male voice rang from the doorway. “Who said my niece can’t handle it?” I looked up and saw my uncle, Raymond Caldwell, standing at the door. This uncle of mine was much smarter than my love-obsessed mother. At least he never directly provoked me the way my parents did. “Where did this pretty boy come from?” Raymond strode over to Grant. “Trying to live off a woman and still making it sound noble?” “My niece needs your help? She grew up learning from the old man himself. Since when does an outsider get to point fingers here?” Grant had thick skin. Even being mocked in public didn’t anger him. He smiled. “I’m Briar’s fiancé.” “It’s perfectly natural for me to share her burden.” “Fiancé?” Raymond rolled his eyes. “And I’m her actual uncle.” Then he turned to me, his face full of smiles. “Briar, let your uncle make the call today. Dump this guy.” “I’ll introduce you to a whole stack of better men. Every single one stronger than this freeloader.” I couldn’t help laughing, though I knew exactly what was at stake. The Blackwell family’s military connections were crucial to the overseas security project I planned to push forward. So on the surface, at least, I couldn’t tear this engagement apart yet. I stood and looked at Grant apologetically. “Grant, I’m sorry. My uncle has always been blunt. He doesn’t mean any harm. Don’t take it personally.” “You should go first. I’ll come find you later.” Grant glanced sideways at Raymond, then looked back at me with a smile. “Briar, I’ll wait for you tonight at the InterContinental for dinner.” Then he left. Only Raymond and I remained in the office. His eyes shifted, and he rubbed his hands together with a smile. “Briar, I heard… you’re chair of the Whitmore Group now?” I understood immediately. So this was what he had come for. I pulled out a chair, sat down, poured him tea, and smiled. “Uncle Ray, we’re family. No need to circle around.” “If you have something to say, just say it.” “My niece really is straightforward!” His eyes lit up, and he immediately followed the opening. “Here’s the thing. Your uncle has a project recently. Guaranteed profit, no loss. It just needs a little startup capital.” “You’re chair now. Could you invest a little in your uncle’s project? Not much. Just a hundred million.” My smile didn’t change. I agreed instantly. “Of course, Uncle.” “As your niece, I have to support your career.” “Have your assistant send over the project materials later. I’ll ask finance to start the process.” Raymond hadn’t expected me to agree so quickly. His eyes brightened. Then he added, “Also, Briar, your cousin just graduated from college this year. Could you let him come to your company and help you out? Let him learn from you.” My uncle and aunt only had one daughter, Iris, who was studying abroad. The “cousin” he meant, Liam, was his illegitimate son. I had heard Mom mention him a few times. Raymond treasured that secret son of his. But my aunt had a fierce temper and tolerated no betrayal. As luck would have it, Raymond had been able to sit comfortably as chairman of the Caldwell family business all these years partly because my mother loved helping her younger brother, but mostly because of his wife. So he didn’t dare let her know the illegitimate son existed. I kept smiling and nodded. “No problem. Once Liam graduates, have him report to HR. I’ll have a vice president mentor him personally.” Raymond was overjoyed and left happily. The office finally quieted down. The smile slowly faded from my face. If there had only been one dog, I might have had a problem. But now there were two. All I had to do was wait for the show. 04 Grandpa’s death came suddenly. That day, I was out of town negotiating a project when I received the butler’s call. I rushed back overnight. Dad had already arranged the funeral. The funeral home was cold. Low music drifted through the air. In the center of the memorial hall hung Grandpa’s black-and-white portrait. Before the coffin, Dad knelt on a cushion, sobbing like his heart had been ripped out. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought he was the most devoted son in the world. Beside him, a woman held a swaddled baby and gently soothed it. I recognized her vaguely. One of Dad’s mistresses. “Dad! Open your eyes and look!” Dad cried, pounding the coffin heavily. His voice was hoarse. “You finally have a grandson! I gave you a grandson!” “Why couldn’t you wait to see him? Why did you leave?” I stood there as my stomach churned. Just then, my mother stormed in. The moment her eyes landed on the baby in the woman’s arms, she exploded like a firecracker and lunged forward to snatch it. “Victor Whitmore, you filthy stud! You dare bring your bastard child to the old man’s funeral? I’ll smash this little curse to death today!” The woman screamed and dodged back. Dad immediately stood and shielded her. The two of them began fighting in an instant. A proper memorial hall became a circus within seconds. I only stood quietly and looked at Grandpa, as if all the noise had nothing to do with me. My nose suddenly stung. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I held them back with everything I had. Only when the lawyer entered the hall did the chaos finally quiet down. He carried a document envelope in his hand. Grandpa’s will. The lawyer cleared his throat, bowed deeply to Grandpa’s portrait, then opened the will and read it word by word. Most of the real estate would be split equally among my parents and me. Grandpa’s lifetime collection of paintings, antiques, cars, and scattered investment and trust income all went to me. And then came the most important part. The shares of the Whitmore Group. The forty percent of shares Grandpa held during his life would be divided equally between me and my father, Victor Whitmore. Each of us would inherit twenty percent. I stood frozen as half the blood in my body seemed to turn cold. I already held the ten percent Grandpa had transferred to me years earlier. With this inherited twenty percent, I had thirty percent total. Enough to stand firmly in the company. Not enough to fully control the Whitmore Group. And Dad, a useless playboy Grandpa had kicked out of core management ten years ago, a man who wasn’t even a shareholder yesterday, had gained twenty percent overnight. That meant he now had the capital to fight me head-on. I frowned. I knew Grandpa had arranged this out of fatherly love. But he had overestimated my father. Grandpa could give him shares. Dad could not hold on to them. Dad froze for a few seconds, then burst into irrepressible laughter. “I knew it! Dad still cared about me, his son!” He glanced at me smugly. “So what if the old man trained you as heir? I’m not only your father. I’m his only son.” As he spoke, he touched the baby’s cheek. “Briar, you’d better be careful. A girl running a company? That kind of glory never lasts.” I lowered my eyes, expressionless. “Dad, whether my glory lasts or not, we’ll see.” “But it’s true that you’re a poor judge of people. Marissa fooled you for so long. This time, try not to get fooled again.” “I already threw that woman out!” Dad snarled, clearly stabbed in a sore spot. “Just wait until your brother and I replace you.” With that, he wrapped an arm around the woman, held the newborn baby, and walked out of the memorial hall without looking back. Mom was so angry her face turned green. Pointing at his back, she cursed and chased after him in her heels, shouting that she was going to settle this properly. The memorial hall, noisy moments ago, emptied in an instant. Only I remained. Me, and Grandpa lying in the coffin. I stood there for a very long time. So long my legs went numb and lost all feeling. Only then did I brace myself against the cold funeral home wall and move outside one step at a time. From the memorial hall to the parking lot was only a few hundred yards. Holding the wall, I walked for half an hour. That was enough time to think through many things. I suddenly remembered years ago, when Grandpa first brought me back to the old estate. He had stroked my head and said, “Briar, if no one helps you walk, then lean on the wall and walk by yourself. Go slowly. You’ll get out eventually.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I covered my face and cried without a sound.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “462275”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel