Author: Momo Chan

The day before the college fall formal, a new announcement was posted in the Discord channel for Sigma Alpha, the fraternity where my online boyfriend Tyler belonged. [For tonight’s freshman dare challenge, whoever draws the King of Spades must bring Tyler’s 300-pound online girlfriend to the formal tomorrow night!] Right after that, Tyler posted a photo of me from last Christmas into the channel. In the photo, I was wearing an absurdly oversized reindeer sweater, my chin fat piled up in folds, looking so huge I seemed like a moving mountain. The guys in the channel instantly exploded. “Bro, are you serious? Whoever takes her to the dance is definitely going to die of embarrassment.” “Tyler, you actually brought her to Harbor City? Wouldn’t a girl that size need two plane seats?” Tyler sent a laughing emoji. “Relax, I already told her this was a romantic in-person meetup!” “I’ll bet five hundred bucks that no matter who picks her up tomorrow night, she’ll break down crying because she can’t fit into a formal dress.” Julian, known as the fraternity’s “ice-cold chairman,” never said a word. But Luke, the guy who loved stirring up trouble the most, kept tagging my lurking alt account like crazy: “Ms. Chloe, you have to come tomorrow night. Don’t bail at the last minute.” I looked at the insults scrolling across the screen and clenched my fingers. For this cross-state meetup, I had spent a full year dropping from nearly 300 pounds to 130. I looked at the clearly defined lines of my abs in the mirror, and at the tight, sultry red designer gown hanging in the fitting room. Quietly, I placed a thousand-dollar bet in the pool that I would show up on time.

The amount in the channel’s betting pool jumped instantly. A thousand bucks stood out sharply among all the ten- and twenty-dollar pocket change bets. The chat box, which had been flooding nonstop, froze for a few seconds. Soon, someone sent a string of question marks. “What’s going on? Who is this lurker? They dropped a thousand dollars right away?” “That ID looks unfamiliar. Where did this rich guy come from?” “Could it be Chloe herself? Tyler, you didn’t kick her out, did you?” I put down my coffee cup and tapped on the screen. “I’m Chloe.” “Winner takes all. See you tomorrow night.” The moment the message was sent, my phone started vibrating wildly. Tyler flooded my DMs. “Are you crazy?” “Where did you get a thousand dollars? Didn’t you say all your part-time money was going toward tuition?” “The guys were just joking. What are you doing jumping in and making a scene?” I looked at the accusations he sent, my gaze landing on the red dress in the mirror. The old me was insecure and didn’t like talking to people in real life. So I chose an online relationship and met Tyler. Over the past year of that online relationship, I had helped him revise fourteen economics term papers. When he got drunk at a party in the middle of the night, I stayed on FaceTime with him until dawn across the time zones. He complained that all the girls around him were too shallow, and only I understood his soul. Looking back, he was just unwilling to lose a free high-end academic ghostwriter and a twenty-four-hour online therapist. I didn’t reply to him. Luke, the one who loved stirring trouble the most, sent three whistle emojis in a row. “Nice. A 300-pound dose of courage is heavyweight, all right.” “Since Chloe dares to come, then tomorrow night’s King of Spades punishment has to be played all the way through.” “Tyler, now it’s our turn to draw cards.” A link to a virtual card-drawing mini game popped up in the channel. Tyler was obviously panicking. He directly tagged me in the channel. “Chloe, be good and cancel the bet. Tomorrow night’s formal is black-tie. You don’t have the right clothes, and coming will only embarrass you.” It sounded like concern, but really he was just afraid of losing face. I was about to type when a new message popped up in the channel. “Can you all not be so mean?” It was Serena, the business school’s recognized head cheerleader. “Even though Chloe’s body type is a little unusual, flying over here from so far away isn’t easy. Tyler, how can you use your girlfriend as a bet?” “Chloe, if you don’t have a formal dress, I can lend you one. But my size is XS, so you might need to check a plus-size women’s store to see if they have any one-size-fits-all capes.” The group instantly burst into laughter. “Serena really is kind. A cape is perfect, just cover her up and problem solved!” “Unreal. Let’s just change tomorrow night’s formal theme to a Halloween pre-show. I’m scared I’ll laugh out loud.” I looked at the insults scrolling across the screen and felt my heart turn colder. Over the past year, in order to stand beside Tyler with my head held high, I had sweated it out in the gym every single day. When stomach pain hit from extreme dieting, I still had to grit my teeth and help him with data analysis in front of my computer while my body cramped up. All because I thought he was the first person who loved only my soul. I left the group and threw my phone onto the sofa. Then I turned and walked to the full-length mirror, pulling up the invisible zipper at the back of the red dress.

At seven o’clock that night, the outside of the Claude Hotel in Harbor City was brightly lit. I stepped through the revolving doors in ten-inch stilettos. The fitted red dress wrapped around my curves, and the slit in the skirt showed off my long legs as I walked. A lot of eyes in the lobby turned toward me. I walked straight to the elevator. My phone kept vibrating inside my clutch. I took it out and glanced at it. The Discord channel had already switched to live-stream mode. Luke held up his phone at the entrance to the ballroom, a smile on his lips. “Guys, it’s seven fifteen. Chloe, the 300-pound girl, still hasn’t shown up.” “Tyler, your thousand bucks is basically guaranteed.” The camera shifted and landed on Tyler, who was dressed in a custom tuxedo. He was holding champagne, and Serena, in a white sequined fishtail gown, stood beside him. Serena was clinging to his arm affectionately. “Tyler, you’re such a jerk. Chloe must be hiding in some motel somewhere, too scared to come out.” Tyler took a sip of wine, a smug smile hanging at the corner of his mouth. “I already tried my best to talk her out of it. She insisted on placing the bet herself. If she can’t even handle this much pressure, how is she supposed to survive in Harbor City?” Laughter broke out behind them in agreement. Just then, the elevator doors opened. I put away my phone and stepped out. At the end of the hallway was the sign-in desk for the ballroom. Several fraternity freshmen were checking names against the list. I walked over and gave my name. “Chloe.” The freshman in charge of registration was a chubby guy wearing glasses. When he heard my name, he jerked his head up. His gaze swept over my face and the red dress several times, and the pen in his hand dropped straight onto the table. “You… are Chloe?” He stammered so badly he could barely get the words out. “Is there a registration record?” My tone was calm. “Yes, there is, but…” He swallowed hard. “Tonight your escort is Chairman Julian. You’ll need to wait for him to bring you in.” Julian. The ice-cold chairman who had never spoken in the channel flashed through my mind. So the King of Spades in last night’s draw was him in the end. “Where is he?” “On the terrace.” The freshman pointed to a glass door on the side of the hallway. I turned around, pushed open the glass door, and walked outside. The terrace had no main lights on, only wall lamps casting a faint glow. A man in a black bespoke suit stood with his back to me at the railing. The night wind blew past, bringing a cool cedar scent. Hearing the sound of high heels, he turned around, revealing a refined face. His features were deep and sharp, and his brows and eyes carried a coldness that kept people at a distance. His gaze landed on me, without any cheap appraisal, only curiosity. “Wrong place?” His voice was low. “No.” I walked toward him and met his gaze. “I’m Chloe. I heard you drew the King of Spades.”

A faint shift crossed Julian’s face. He looked at me, and a hint of thought flashed through his dark gray eyes. “Tyler’s online girlfriend?” “Ex-girlfriend.” I corrected him. Last night I had sent Tyler a breakup message, but he hadn’t replied. Coming here today was just me putting a close to my first love. He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze dropping from my face and pausing at the faint muscle lines visible in the slit of the red dress. There was nothing frivolous in it. He was only confirming some fact. “How long did it take you?” “One year and two months.” He nodded. “Good stamina.” “You saw the betting pool in the channel.” I looked him in the eye. “I need to get in. If you think taking me inside would hurt your image, I can go in by myself.” “Since I drew the punishment, I don’t have a habit of running from it.” Julian straightened up, buttoned his jacket, and held out his right arm to me. “Let’s go.” I placed my hand in the crook of his arm. The muscle under the fabric was solid and powerful. We walked side by side toward the ballroom doors. Behind the heavy double doors, the noise was so loud it felt like it could blow the roof off. Luke’s voice could be heard clearly even through the door. “Five minutes left. If Chloe still doesn’t show, the betting pool gets settled right now!” “Tyler, you really cleaned up on this one. Not only did you dump a huge headache, you also picked up a free thousand bucks.” The waiter at the door saw Julian and immediately bowed respectfully before opening the door. The light from the crystal chandelier poured out instantly. The noisy ballroom fell silent for a second the moment the door opened. Everyone instinctively looked toward the entrance. Julian was at the center of Harbor City’s social circle, so every move he made was already under a spotlight. But at this moment, once those gazes landed on me in his arm, they all froze. I clearly saw that several guys not far away, each holding a glass of wine, had their mouths hanging open wide enough to fit a pool ball. Luke’s phone was still held up in livestream mode, the camera pointed straight at us. “Julian’s here…” Someone muttered under their breath. “Who’s that beauty beside him? Is she some other rich family’s daughter?” “That red dress looks like a Milan runway couture piece this year. Damn, you’d need an insane figure to pull that off.” I lifted my chin slightly and held onto Julian’s arm, walking down the steps one by one. Wherever I passed, people automatically made way. I walked straight toward the center of the hall. Tyler was standing with his back to me, whispering and flirting with Serena. When he heard the strange silence around him, he turned around. The instant our eyes met, a clear flash of shock appeared in Tyler’s eyes. He even let go of Serena’s hand and subconsciously adjusted his bow tie. He didn’t recognize me. Not only did he not recognize me, he lifted his chin slightly and came over on his own. He ignored Julian beside me and stared straight at my face. “Lovely lady.” Tyler put on his signature deep, loving smile. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at a Harbor City formal before. May I have the honor of buying you a drink?”

As soon as Tyler finished speaking, envious looks shot over from all around. Serena stood not far away, her face slightly green, but she still kept up her polished socialite image and didn’t lose her temper. Julian turned his head and glanced at me. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t withdraw his arm. He just stood quietly on the side. “Buy me a drink?” I let out a light laugh. That laugh made Tyler think he had succeeded. He stepped closer, his tone even more presumptuous. “Of course. A dazzling girl like you shouldn’t be ignored. Julian’s always so boring anyway. He doesn’t know how to take care of a lady.” I took a glass of red wine from a passing waiter’s tray. Tyler immediately raised his own glass, ready to clink with me. Just as the two glasses were about to hit, I turned my wrist. The rim tilted. The crimson wine poured down the collar of his custom tuxedo. The white shirt was instantly stained red, and wine dripped down his chin. A wave of gasps erupted in the ballroom. Serena screamed and rushed over, frantically digging tissues out of her bag. “Are you crazy!” She shouted at me. “Do you know how expensive his suit is?” Tyler wiped his face in a flustered mess, and the loving mask on his face finally shattered completely. “Who the hell are you?” He glared at me through gritted teeth. I set the empty glass back on the tray. “What, you don’t recognize me after I changed clothes?” I looked him in the eye and said each word clearly. “Didn’t you bet five hundred bucks that I couldn’t fit into a formal dress?” The whole ballroom went dead silent. Luke’s phone fell straight onto the carpet. Exclamations of shock broke out in the crowd. The anger on Tyler’s face froze instantly, his pupils contracting hard as he stared at me. “You…” His lips trembled, unable to form a complete sound. “Let me reintroduce myself.” “I’m Chloe. One hundred thirty pounds.” I pulled a thousand-dollar check out of my clutch and tucked it between two fingers, and slipped it neatly into the pocket of his still-dripping suit. “You lost.” “Take the extra thousand and get your eyes checked.” The moment I turned, I caught his wrist with my other hand and yanked him so hard that he staggered forward a step. Then I lowered my voice to something only the two of us could hear. “And don’t think I don’t know that the core data in that A+ final paper of yours was all run by me overnight. If I send the draft to your professor, guess what happens?” Tyler’s face went instantly pale, and his grip loosened. Just then, Julian’s voice came from behind me in a flat tone. “Tyler, since the game is over, you should fulfill the bet.” Tyler jerked his head up. “What bet?” Julian stepped forward, blocking Tyler’s hand when he tried to grab me. He looked down at Tyler from above, his tone without the slightest fluctuation. “The betting pool rule tonight was set by you. The loser has to crawl around the dance floor three times in front of everyone.” Julian’s dark gray eyes were cold as ice. “Now, you can start crawling.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462023”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

At graduation, Liam and I broke up. His eyes were full of hatred as he said he would definitely find a girl a hundred times better than me. Eight years later, because of my husband’s project, our old classmates gathered again. But Liam came with his girlfriend and handed out wedding invitations to us. Our classmates all looked at me with sympathy, because back then, he and I had loved each other like our lives depended on it. When the wedding invitation reached me, Liam gave me a half-smile. “I heard that all these years, you were so afraid of thinking about me that you didn’t even dare contact our old classmates.” “But now I’ve found the girl who belongs to me, so you should forget me.” Just as I was about to speak, a little boy suddenly ran in from outside the door and threw himself at me. He shouted, “Mommy.” 1 “Mommy!” The entire private room went silent in an instant. Dozens of pairs of eyes turned toward me all at once. I looked at the little boy throwing himself at me, with his round face and big eyes, and he was completely unfamiliar. This was not my child. I was just about to speak when the door to the private room was suddenly shoved open. A young woman rushed in, her face full of apology. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry! Leo, I told you not to run around!” She scooped up the child and kept bowing to everyone. “I’m sorry for interrupting you.” The woman hurried away with the child in her arms, and everyone let out a breath of relief. “I knew it, how could Lena already have a kid?” It was Zoe, who had sat behind me back then, and she had always loved gossiping. “If she got married, how could none of us old classmates know?” Someone immediately chimed in, “Exactly, Liam isn’t even married yet, so how could she get married first?” As soon as those words came out, everyone’s eyes swept back and forth between Liam and me again. Liam and I dated for four years in college. During those four years, he skipped required courses from the entire department for me and played guitar under my dorm building while singing off-key love songs. I waited for him for three hours in heavy snow just to give him a scarf I had knitted by hand. We squeezed into the cheapest rental near campus, shared a six-dollar bowl of beef noodles, and still thought it was the best food in the world. But on the eve of graduation, I broke up with him. I remembered his bloodshot eyes as he gripped my wrist tightly and asked, “Why?” I could not give him a reason. In the end, he flung me away, and the love in his eyes was swallowed by hatred. “Lena, in this lifetime, I will definitely find a girl a hundred times better than you and make you regret it.” Now, he had done it. He brought his fiancée and handed me that gold-embossed wedding invitation in front of all our old classmates. How was that a wedding invitation? It was clearly a slap to my face. Before I came, my roommate quietly told me that Liam had specifically asked in the group chat, “Is Lena coming?” All his setup was prepared for me. In the silence, Willa, who was beside Liam, suddenly stood up. She held a glass of wine and smiled warmly and gracefully, but there was a faint hint of provocation in her eyes as she looked straight at me. “What happened in the past is all in the past.” “I’m very grateful that someone took care of Liam for me during those years.” She said the words “for me”very lightly, but they stabbed like needles. She paused, looked around the room, and finally turned her gaze back to Liam’s affectionate face, her voice firm. “But from now on, the person who can stay by Liam’s side can only be me, Willa.” “Well said!” Someone started it first. Thunderous applause instantly rang through the private room, and someone even whistled. “Liam is so lucky!” “Willa said it perfectly!” Liam took the chance to pull Willa into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head with a doting expression. He raised his glass toward everyone, smiling with total satisfaction. “Thank you, everyone.” I picked up the coffee cup in front of me and calmly took a sip. This situation had nothing to do with me. The scalding coffee slid down my throat. I lowered my eyes and pretended to study the delicate pattern on the rim of the cup. But from the corner of my eye, Liam’s gaze kept drifting, intentionally or not, past the fiancée in his arms and landing on me. 2 Liam’s gaze was like a net, and there was hatred in that look. There was also love that had burned itself to ashes. And there was a trace of confusion that even he himself had never noticed. He did not understand eight years ago, and now, he understood even less. My thoughts were instantly pulled back to that muggy summer night. In the study room of the university library, I was clutching an acceptance letter from an Ivy League school. It was the dream I had earned by staying up countless nights and giving up all entertainment. “Lena, what are you looking at so seriously?” Liam’s voice came from behind me. He pressed a bottle of ice-cold Coke against my face, and I snapped back to myself with a jolt. “You scared me.” “What are you thinking about, future big designer?”he asked with a smile as he sat down beside me, his eyes bright as if they were filled with stars. He had never doubted my talent, and he believed even more firmly than I did that I could stand on the world stage. “When we graduate, I’ll open a tiny architecture studio.” “You’ll be my chief designer.” “We’ll rent a small apartment downtown, and it doesn’t have to be big, just big enough for your drawing board and my models.” “Then we’ll get a cat, a fat one, like a little pig.” He rambled on about our future, and every word crashed into my heart and into the acceptance letter in my hand. Silently, I folded that piece of paper and tucked it into the deepest part of my book. It was like burying a grand dream. I turned to meet his gaze and said with a smile, “Okay.” “It’s a deal.” But in the end, I still broke that promise. “Lena?” Zoe’s voice dragged me out of my memories. “Liam is asking you a question, where are you working now?” Her tone was barbed, and everyone’s eyes focused on me once again. Some wanted to watch the show, some were waiting for me to embarrass myself, and some were gloating. Liam let go of Willa, held his wineglass, and strolled over to me. He looked down at me from above. “What, you can’t say it?” He let out a soft laugh, with seven parts mockery and three parts satisfaction. “Then again, the top student in our department back then had such high standards, so how could an ordinary job be good enough for you?” “Maybe you married some incredible man and got hidden away at home.” With every word he said, the laughter around us grew louder. Willa leaned against him and added another cut at the perfect moment, her voice soft and innocent. “Liam, don’t talk about Lena like that. Maybe she’s just low-key.” I raised my eyes and calmly looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar face in front of me. Eight years was enough to grind a sunny young man into a man covered in thorns. I picked up my coffee cup and lifted it toward him with composed movements. “Sorry to disappoint you.” “I’m just making a living at a small company.” My calmness seemed to make him even angrier. “A small company?” He sounded as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world, and his pitch rose. “Lena, that wasn’t what you said back then.” He took a step forward and pressed closer to me. “Didn’t you say I couldn’t give you the life you wanted?” “What, eight years have passed, and now you’re willing to ‘make a living’ at a small company?” 3 The life I wanted. Ha. I sneered inwardly. Liam, do you really know what I wanted? The air in the private room seemed to freeze. “Why aren’t you talking?” Liam moved closer, and the smell of alcohol mixed with an unfamiliar cologne made me frown. “Did I hit the truth and leave you speechless?” The satisfaction in his eyes almost overflowed. “Or are you really married, and that hidden husband of yours is just an Uber driver, so you’re too ashamed to say it?” Suppressed snickers came from around us. Willa leaned in Liam’s arms and gently tried to persuade him. “Liam, don’t be like this, we’re all old classmates.” As she spoke, she picked up a glass of red wine. “Lena, let me toast you, and let the past stay in the past.” She walked toward me, then suddenly twisted her ankle. “Ah—” A cry of alarm rang out. A full glass of red wine splashed perfectly across my moon-white dress. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Lena!” Willa apologized in panic, but a smug smile was hidden in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to.” Liam pulled her back into his arms without even looking at me. “You’re still so clumsy, like a kid.” There was not a trace of blame in his tone, only indulgence. He looked at me with icy eyes. “It’s just a dress, Lena, you wouldn’t be that petty, would you?” I said nothing. I only looked at him quietly. I looked at the man I had once loved for four full years. So time really could change a person. It could make him completely unrecognizable. I smiled. It was a very soft sound. But Liam’s face instantly darkened. “What are you laughing at?” I raised my eyes, swept my gaze over him, and landed on Willa, whose face had gone pale in his arms. “I’m laughing at you.” “Liam.” I slowly picked up the wet wipe on the table and gently wiped the hem of my dress with elegant movements. “You’re right, it’s just a dress.” Willa clearly let out a breath of relief. The corner of Liam’s mouth also curled back into a mocking smile, as if victory was already his. But then I changed the subject. “It’s just a little troublesome.” “It was a wedding anniversary gift from my husband, and now that it’s dirty, it’ll be hard to explain to him.” In an instant, the entire private room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All the color drained from Liam’s face, and he stared at me as if he could not believe his own ears. “You’re… really married?” I raised my eyes, met his trembling pupils, and curved my lips into a perfect but cold smile. “What else? Did you think every woman in the world should wait for you, Mr. Harper?” His breath caught, and a storm I could not understand surged in his eyes. Willa clenched her fists and spoke softly, unwilling to give up. “Lena, stop joking, what does your husband do? And why didn’t you invite any classmates when you got married?” That question was very skillful. It sounded casual, but it also hinted that my marriage was something shameful. I turned my head to look at her, my gaze falling on the sparkling diamond ring on her hand. “This dress really isn’t that expensive.” I lowered my head, my tone casual. “It’s only about…” I paused, met everyone’s curious gaze, curled my lips, and said a few words. “Ten times the price of the diamond ring on your hand.” The entire room was shocked. Willa’s face turned blue, then white, then red. Liam’s fists clenched at his sides with cracking sounds, and he took a step forward, his eyes bloodshot. “Lena! Who is your husband?!” 4 When I heard his question, I met his bloodshot eyes and smiled. “My husband…” I deliberately dragged out the ending. “He’s a very petty man.” “He’s also possessive.” “He doesn’t like it when the things he gives me are dirtied by other people.” Willa’s face was as pale as paper. But Liam was like a lit stick of dynamite. “You’re lying!” He growled, his voice full of uncontrollable rage and… a hint of panic even he himself had not noticed. “Lena, you’ll say anything just to piss me off!” “You were like this eight years ago, and you’re still like this now!” Willa tugged at his sleeve, looking as if she was about to cry. “Liam, don’t be like this… Lena didn’t mean it, let’s go…” She acted pitiful and also noticed that something about Liam’s attitude was slightly wrong. I looked at her coldly. “Shut up.” Willa’s crying stopped abruptly, and she looked at me in disbelief. My gaze returned to Liam. “Liam, you’re still the same as you were eight years ago.” “Childish, impulsive, and always thinking the whole world should revolve around you.” “Who do you think you are?” My voice was not loud, but every word cut straight to the heart. “You—” He suddenly stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. “Say that again!” A sharp pain shot through my wrist. Just like eight years ago, he had also grabbed me like this and asked me why. I looked at him, and the last trace of warmth in my eyes faded away. “Let go.” “Who is that man?! What does he have that’s better than me?!” His eyes were bloodshot. The classmates around us were silent with fear, and no one dared to step forward and say a word. I frowned from the pain, but I did not struggle. I only looked at him coldly. “He is better than you in every way.” That sentence completely shattered the last of his reason. He gripped me even harder, almost crushing my bones. “Lena!” Just then, the door to the private room was pushed open from the outside. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the man at the door. The light outlined the man’s deep, cold features. It was a face so handsome it almost felt aggressive. He did not look at anyone. He only walked straight toward me. “Lena.” It was Julian Sterling, my husband. Liam seemed frozen in place as he stared stiffly at the man who had suddenly appeared, forgetting how to react. Julian’s gaze slowly moved downward. It landed on the wrist Liam had gripped red. His eyes turned cold in an instant. “Who gave you permission to touch my wife?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462022”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The notice that my daughter was being expelled from school was placed in my hands, and the reason—[cheating with a smartwatch]—was glaringly harsh. I stormed into the school to argue my case, only to be publicly humiliated by the homeroom teacher and the principal: “Children from single-parent families lack discipline. It’s only natural for them to have bad character!” “The evidence is conclusive. If you keep making a scene, watch out—you might even lose that easy little job of yours!” I looked at the red marks on my daughter’s wrist from being shoved during the argument, and at those hollow eyes full of despair. Then I picked up the phone and dialed the number that had been buried away for six years. “Daniel Shaw,” my voice was ice-cold, “our daughter is being bullied.” “I only have one question. What do you gain by forcing a child who loves studying to death and destroying your own bloodline for the world you’re trying to protect?” The line went dead silent, and then a voice sounded from the other end, as if it had come straight from the depths of hell: “Send me the address. I’m on my way.” 1 The smell of old paper and ink in the records room was the quiet comfort I had known best for the past six years. I was thirty-three this year, an ordinary librarian at the city library. Life was tight, but I thought it was enough to protect the peace between me and my daughter, Stella. Until that dark afternoon, when a sharp ringtone tore through the fake calm. The call was from Stella’s homeroom teacher, Ms. Turner, and her tone was cold and mechanical. “Parent of Stella Carter, please come to the school immediately. We need to speak to you in person about Stella Carter’s serious violation of school rules.” “School rules?” My heart sank hard. “Stella, she—” “Come here first.” The call was hung up, leaving only the buzzing of the dial tone. By the time I rode my old bicycle to Marlowe High School, the sky had already started to drift with fine rain. The grand gates of that prestigious school blurred before my eyes. When I pushed open the teachers’ office door, Stella was standing alone in the corner, her face deathly pale, her body trembling slightly. The moment she saw me, her eyes turned red, but she bit her lip so hard she refused to cry. Behind the desk, Ms. Turner pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses, her gaze sharp and cold behind the lenses. Next to her sat Principal Harris, smiling in a way that revealed nothing. “Mrs. Carter, you’re here.” Ms. Turner spoke first and pushed a sheet of paper toward me. “This is the school’s decision. Take a look.” Black words on white paper. The most eye-catching part was the bold title. [Disciplinary Decision Regarding Stella Carter’s Academic Misconduct] The contents were even more heartless. During a critical recent exam, Stella Carter used a smartwatch to cheat. The offense was serious and had a bad influence. After discussion by the school board, it has been decided that she will be disqualified from the city-level outstanding student selection and expelled from school, with the matter to be reported to all schools in the city. My vision went black, and I nearly lost my footing. “Cheating? Impossible! Stella would never do that! She has always earned her grades through her own hard work!” “The evidence is conclusive.” Ms. Turner sneered and pulled a transparent evidence bag out of the drawer. Inside was an ordinary smartwatch. “On the day of the exam, the cameras showed her looking down at her watch multiple times. The tech department also recovered the watch’s receiving records, and there was answer information transmitted from outside. Stella herself also admitted that the watch was hers.” “I admit the watch is mine!” Stella finally couldn’t hold back and shouted through tears, “But I never used it to cheat! I wasn’t even wearing it that day! I put it in the deepest part of my backpack! Someone framed me!” “Framed?” Principal Harris spoke slowly, his voice oily with condescension. “Mrs. Carter, we understand how you feel. But the school handles problems based on evidence. Right now, all the evidence points to Stella Carter. And, from what we know, children from single-parent families may indeed… lack enough attention and guidance in some areas. It’s understandable to make a mistake for a moment. But rules are rules.” He stressed the words “single-parent family,” like a poisonous thorn, stabbing straight into my deepest pain. 2 “What do you mean by that?” My blood rushed to my head. “Just because she comes from a single-parent family, does that mean she deserves to be framed? What kind of child Stella is, don’t you know? How many times has she brought honor to the school? And now you’re going to ruin her future just because of one camera and a record that can be faked?” Ms. Turner slapped the desk and stood up. “Mrs. Carter! Watch your tone! This is a place for reason, not a place for you to throw a fit! Your daughter has a problem, and instead of reflecting on your own parenting, you’re questioning the school’s fairness? Like mother, like daughter.” Her words were like icy spikes dipped in poison, stabbing through the reason I was trying to hold onto. I looked at Stella. Her small body trembled violently with anger and humiliation. Tears slid down silently, and the despair in her eyes broke my heart. “Stella, let’s go.” I took my daughter’s cold hand and didn’t look again at those two hypocritical faces. I knew we would get no justice here. When we walked out of the office, the students and teachers we passed in the hallway all gave us strange looks, and the murmuring was like the buzz of flies. Even Stella’s old classmates kept their distance from her. When we got home, the small apartment that had once been full of books and warmth now felt suffocating. Stella locked herself in her room, and the muffled sound of her crying cut at my heart like a dull knife. I sat in the living room, looking at the rain growing heavier outside the window, feeling cold all over. I remembered six years ago, when I had fled from another place full of power and coldness with Stella, who had only just learned to walk. I thought that if I hid in the ordinary noise of the city, I could buy peace. I had given up my once-brilliant academic talent and willingly become a simple librarian, only asking that my daughter could grow up safe and happy. But why was the world even taking away that little humble wish? “Mom…” I didn’t know when Stella had come out. Her face was still streaked with tears, and she threw herself into my arms, her voice hoarse. “Why are they doing this? Ryan Brooks’s grades aren’t even as good as mine. Is it just because his dad donated money to the school? Mom, I didn’t cheat… I really didn’t…” I held her tightly, my heart twisting like a knife. “I know, and I believe you, Stella. Don’t be afraid. Mom will get justice for you no matter what.” At that moment, a heart that had been silent for many years seemed to slowly wake up inside me. I couldn’t fall. My daughter was watching me. 3 Over the next few days, I started fighting back. I went to government offices, and after hearing my account, the reception staff told me blankly to go home and wait for notice. Then nothing happened. I tried contacting the media, but the calls either didn’t go through or I was politely told that they needed to verify things, and then there was nothing after that. Marlowe High School’s announcement saying the evidence was conclusive had already been released, and rumors spread at shocking speed. The neighbors looked at us with disdain and avoidance. Even at the library where I worked, there were whispers starting up. The director politely reminded me to be mindful of the impact and suggested I take temporary leave. Stella was getting worse and worse. She didn’t dare go out and stayed curled up in her room all day, her eyes empty. That girl who had once been bright-eyed and hungry for knowledge was gone. What made me feel most hopeless was that I realized I was facing a net with no holes. Principal Harris, Ms. Turner, and the Brooks family behind the scenes had woven a huge web of connections, easily defusing every appeal I made. That day, I gathered my courage again and went to the city education bureau, hoping to see someone higher up. Outside an office, I unexpectedly ran into Ms. Turner and Ryan Brooks’s father. The well-known local businessman, Mr. Brooks. They were laughing and talking as they came out with someone who looked like a leader. Ms. Turner spotted me and curled her lips into an undisguised sneer. Mr. Brooks swept a contemptuous glance over my cheap clothes, as if I were just an annoying bug. The official frowned and said to the staff beside him, “Why are all kinds of people allowed in here? Pay attention to the optics.” At that moment, all my courage and persistence collapsed. I wasn’t chasing the truth. I was throwing an egg at a rock. An overwhelming sense of powerlessness washed over me like a tide. I stood alone in front of the cold municipal building and watched them drive away. For the first time, I understood what despair really was. When I got home, Stella was curled up in the corner of the sofa and asked me softly, “Mom, is it because of me that you got dragged into this too? Maybe… maybe we should just forget it. I don’t want to go to school anymore…” “No!” I almost shouted it, but tears surged out of me uncontrollably. I held her. “Stella, we can’t let this go! If we do, your whole life will be ruined! Even if I have to give up my life, I’ll clear your name!” But how could I fight? My strength, in front of them, was as small as a speck of dust. Just when I was about to be swallowed by despair, one afternoon while cleaning out old things, I accidentally found a long-forgotten iron box. Inside were several medals I had once won in math and physics competitions at home and abroad, now dulled with age. Under the medals was a photo. 4 In the photo, a young me stood shoulder to shoulder with a young man in a white shirt, his eyes bright and sharp, on a university campus, both of us smiling with carefree brilliance. That was Daniel Shaw. Stella’s father. Six years ago, he vanished from our world as if he had evaporated, leaving behind only a vague, almost cruel breakup letter. Carrying a child, I endured immense pain and the gossip and pointing fingers around me before giving birth to Stella. I went from hating him to slowly trying to forget him, pouring all my love into my daughter. I had never thought about finding him. The name, and the world it might represent, was the past I had deliberately avoided. But right then, looking at the face in the photo, the face that had once been full of ideals and passion, and looking at my haggard daughter in my arms, who had been unjustly accused, a crazy and humble thought began to grow in my heart. Could he maybe still be willing to help us, even a little? Even if it was only because Stella was his blood? The thought made me feel ashamed, as if I had betrayed the persistence of the past six years. But I had no way back. I rummaged through everything until I finally found a number that had almost been forgotten, a private number he had once said, “No matter when you call this number, you’ll be able to find me.” With trembling fingers, I pressed the dial button. Hearing the ringing through the receiver, my heart pounded as if it might burst out of my chest. The phone rang for a long time. Just when I thought no one would answer and was about to hang up, someone finally picked up. “Hello?” It was a steady male voice, carrying a trace of barely noticeable caution. Not him. My heart sank. Of course. Six years had passed. The number might have changed hands long ago. “Sorry, wrong number.” My voice was hoarse as I prepared to hang up. “Wait!” The other person’s voice suddenly became urgent, even carrying a hint of unbelievable shock. “This number… may I ask, are you Mrs. Vivian Carter?” I froze. How did he know my name? “I am Vivian Carter. Who are you?” “Thank God! You finally called this number!” The other person sounded excited and relieved. “Mrs. Carter, please wait! Don’t hang up! I’ll transfer you to Mr. Shaw right away! He’s been waiting for your call!” Mr. Shaw? Waiting for my call? Before I could react, I heard hurried footsteps and suppressed conversation on the other end. Then, a voice that I would remember to my grave, a voice I had not even dared to recall carefully in my dreams, came through with a tremor of disbelief and buried urgency, crossing six years of time and crashing hard into my ears: “Vivian? Is that you? Vivian!” It was Daniel Shaw. He was really still using this number. And he called me “Vivian,” the nickname only the closest people would use. The immense grievance and all the hardship I had borne alone for the past six years broke through in an instant. I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t cry out, but tears still poured down. “Daniel…” I forced out a few words with all my strength, my voice broken beyond repair. “Our daughter… Stella… she’s being bullied…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462021”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I helped my wife, Rachel, start a tech company. I even served as the chief R&D engineer, pouring my heart and soul into the code. At the launch event, Rachel was just about to credit me for the groundbreaking new software. But suddenly, a little boy rushed onto the stage. The boy cried and looked up at her. “Mommy! You said Daddy was the one who did all the work! Why are you giving the credit to this uncle?” Rachel, who had always claimed she hated kids and would never have them, did something that shocked me. She picked up the boy with practiced ease and gently cooed in his ear. “I was just joking earlier, sweetie. Of course, this company belongs to the three of us!” Then, Rachel turned her cold gaze toward me. “Frank, you might have developed the project, but without Mikel’s help, you wouldn’t have pulled it off anyway!” I almost laughed out loud. Mikel’s “help”? Did sleeping on the couch and playing video games in the lab all day count as help? Without a second thought, I ripped off my Chief Engineer badge, threw it straight into the trash can, and smiled. “Since Mikel is so outstanding, why don’t you two just get married today? It’s a double celebration!” I didn’t tell them that there was still one fatal bug in the program that I hadn’t fixed yet. Without me, this company would crash. Hard.

“Oh, look at Mr. Monroe. Usually so arrogant, locking himself in his office all day. Turns out he was just riding on someone else’s coattails!” “I knew it! ‘Chief Engineer’? What a joke. He’s nothing without Mikel!” “Stealing credit and hitting on the boss. He’s truly shameless.” “She already has a family, and he still clings to her every day. How disgusting.” Listening to the whispers of my employees, my clenched fists slowly relaxed. Maybe I was just too angry to care anymore. My heart suddenly went cold and numb, like still water. Mikel put on a show, waving his hands in mock humility. “Oh, come on, guys. I only helped with the core algorithm. Most of the credit still goes to Frank.” It sounded like he was praising me. But in reality, he was telling everyone that he was the mastermind behind the core tech, and I was just a useless figurehead. “Frank, don’t be so petty,” Rachel said, frowning. Her eyes were filled with protectiveness for Mikel as she looked down at me. She gently stroked the boy’s hair. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was the same Rachel who used to detest children. Now, she was acting like the most loving mother in the world. “Mikel, don’t say that,” Rachel said softly, her voice filled with pride. “Others might not know, but I do. I know how much sweat you put into this project. You deserve all the glory.” She gave Mikel a flirtatious look. If slacking off in the office counted as “sweat,” then yes, he worked incredibly hard. Looking at Mikel in his tailored suit, I laughed. The guy didn’t even graduate from high school. He started out as a street thug, learned a tiny bit of basic coding, and now he was standing here basking in the applause of the tech elite. To get this company off the ground, I had pulled all-nighters for a week straight until I collapsed and ended up in the ICU. And now, this useless slacker who had been at the company for less than six months was calling me petty. It was hilarious. What did my years of silent support and sacrifices even mean to her? My legal wife was standing on a stage, holding another man’s kid, playing happy family. I guess the internet was right. Years of devotion can’t compare to a single look from a first love. I swept my cold gaze across the room, finally letting it rest on Rachel and Mikel. My eyes were filled with pure contempt. To put it bluntly, I built this company from scratch. I provided the funding. I wrote the code. Without me, this place would have gone bankrupt years ago. Those long nights of coding were brutal. But I kept pushing because I thought I was building a future for Rachel and me. But now? They looked like a happy family, and I looked like an intruder in my own life. Suddenly, a familiar, annoying voice cut through the crowd. “Oh, look. Isn’t that Frank? What are you still standing here for?” I looked up. Rachel’s best friend, Lillian, was walking over, swaying her hips. She was dripping in designer logos and heavy makeup, her eyes filled with mock pity. “Lillian? You made it!” Rachel smiled in surprise. Lillian linked her arm through Rachel’s and shot me a nasty look. “Of course! I wouldn’t miss your big day for the world.” “Such a successful launch! You’re finally on top.” Then, she turned her eyes to Mikel, practically beaming. “Mikel, you are amazing! I always knew you had it in you. Handling the core R&D of such a massive project… Rachel is so lucky to have you.” Mikel fake-smiled. “You flatter me, Lillian. It was a team effort.” Lillian waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t be so modest. Everyone knows you did the heavy lifting. Unlike some people who sit in their offices doing God-knows-what, yet have the nerve to steal credit.” My face went pale with anger. “Lillian, watch your mouth. Do you think I don’t know what you’re trying to do? Who do you think funded this company all these years?”

Lillian let out a sharp laugh. “Funded? Please. All I saw was you walking around like you owned the place. What did you actually contribute?” “If Rachel hadn’t been nice enough to give you the title of Chief Engineer, you’d be nothing!” “Exactly, Frank. Just let it go,” Rachel chimed in, her eyes full of disgust. “You haven’t achieved anything real in all these years. If it weren’t for me, would you even have the chance to work on a project of this scale?” “Do you have any idea how much Mikel has sacrificed for me and this company?” I looked at Lillian, then at Rachel. The disappointment was crushing. “I treated you like a friend, Lillian. And this is how you stab me in the back?” “Stab you in the back?” Lillian scoffed. “Mikel is the sole heir to the Miller Group! That’s a multi-billion-dollar tech empire. He’s too polite to call you out on your lies, but you’re really pushing it now.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I gave them one last, cold look. Then, I turned around and walked out of the venue. As I passed the trash can near the exit, I tossed my ID badge inside without looking back. I went straight to my office. This place used to be my battlefield for love. Now, it was just a graveyard of cold memories. I quickly packed my personal things. Then, I sat in front of my computer. There was indeed a fatal bug in the program. It was a major flaw. But because of the tight deadline, I had planned to fix it after the launch event, since the software wouldn’t be deployed for another week. I laughed at myself. Now? Not my problem anymore. All this time, I had hidden my true identity because I didn’t want Rachel to feel pressured. I didn’t want her to think I was only with her because of my family’s wealth. I was the real heir to the Miller Group. The empire was founded by my mother, Victoria Miller. I took my father’s last name, Monroe, to keep a low profile. I wanted to make it in the tech world on my own merit. I never expected a con man like Mikel to steal my identity and my work. I began wiping my personal data from the company database. Looking at the files and reports I had spent years writing, my heart ached. I had carried Rachel on my back, lifting her company up, hoping to turn it into a second Miller Group. I wanted to prove to my family that I could do it. And now… I shook my head, telling myself to stop looking back. I sat at my desk under the dim light. The divorce papers in front of me felt like a sick joke. I signed them and left them on the desk. As expected, Rachel signed them the very next morning. She signed so fast, it was as if she was terrified I would change my mind. Right after signing, she and Mikel started showing off their “love” right in front of me. Mikel wrapped his arm around her waist, and she leaned into his chest like a delicate doll, looking at me with triumph and scorn. I didn’t waste another second. I grabbed my suitcase and left. I didn’t even have a friend in this city to say goodbye to. After graduating from Switzerland, I had met Rachel. Back then, she was tough, ambitious, and driven. For her, I had fought with my family and moved to California, dedicating my life to her dream. As my flight took off from California, my mind was incredibly peaceful. With my mother’s backing, I quickly took my rightful place at the Miller Group, taking charge of our most critical projects. A few weeks later, the Miller Group hosted a major tech summit. It was meant to attract large investments and officially introduce me as the new head of the division. The venue was stunning. Crystal chandeliers cast brilliant light over the polished marble floors. The massive conference tables were beautifully arranged with nameplates, high-tech displays, and champagne. I didn’t expect to run into Rachel so soon. She and Mikel were actually there, representing their company. Seeing me, Mikel let out a mocking sneer. “Well, well, look who’s here. Isn’t this Frank, the loser who got kicked out of the company? How did a nobody like you sneak into a place like this?”

Our old company had some reputation in the valley. So, quite a few people knew about the drama between Rachel and me. However, none of them knew my connection to the Miller Group. As people started staring and whispering, a familiar, sharp voice echoed from behind us. “You two should watch your mouths. With Frank’s talent, he can succeed anywhere. Unlike some people who only know how to talk a big game.” Sienna walked up, wearing a stunning pink evening gown. She had a delicate, doll-like face, but her eyes were sharp as needles. Mikel smirked, deliberately raising his voice so the whole room could hear. “Oh? What’s the matter, Frank? Since you got fired, have you resorted to being a sugar baby just to get into these events?” Rachel sneered along. “Exactly. I thought you had some pride left, Frank. Turns out you’re just selling your body now that you don’t have me.” Sienna’s face darkened. “I don’t think a failing company like yours has any right to question Frank’s abilities!” Mikel snorted. “Abilities? If he’s so capable, why did we kick him out?” Sienna let out a cold laugh, looking at Mikel with absolute disgust. “Do you really think you’re a genius?” “From what I know, you’re just a pathetic thief who stole someone else’s code.” The crowd broke into hushed whispers. They all knew about the breakthrough software Rachel’s company had just launched, but they had only heard her side of the story. Rachel’s face flushed red. “Don’t talk nonsense! Mikel did everything for the company!” Sienna smirked. “Did everything? A guy who can’t even write a basic loop?” I didn’t know how Sienna found out about that. Sienna was the daughter of my father’s close friend, the head of the Sterling Group. She was my date for the evening. I gently patted Sienna’s shoulder to calm her down, pulling her slightly behind me. Seeing me protect Sienna, a flash of jealousy crossed Rachel’s eyes. She bit her lip and hissed, “Frank, you’re just a kept man living off a rich girl. Don’t get too arrogant. Let’s see how long she keeps you around before she gets bored.” Mikel laughed loudly beside her, his laughter echoing offensively. Just then, a staff member ran into the hall, looking pale and panicked. He whispered something into Rachel and Mikel’s ears. In an instant, the color drained from their faces. Their smug smiles vanished, replaced by sheer terror. “What did you say?!” Mikel raised his voice in shock. “How could there be such a massive system crash?!” Rachel trembled, her voice cracking. “What’s going on? Didn’t we run all the tests?!” Their loud panic drew the attention of the entire room. I smiled to myself. The unfixed bug had finally exploded. Within minutes, murmurs rippled through the crowd. “Hey, did you hear? Rachel’s company launched a software with a massive bug. It just crashed their biggest client’s database. They’re facing a multi-million-dollar lawsuit.” “Whoa, really? That company is done for.” “I knew that tech was too good to be true. Turns out it was just a broken piece of junk.” The gossip spread like wildfire. Rachel and Mikel looked like they were about to throw up. Rachel gritted her teeth, glaring at me with pure rage. “Frank! You did this, didn’t you?! You left that bug on purpose!” I smiled coldly. “Rachel, don’t be ridiculous.” “Didn’t Mikel design the core technology? What does a bug have to do with me?” Rachel grabbed Mikel’s arm, panicking. “Mikel, what do we do? We can’t afford that kind of payout!” “Aren’t you the heir to the Miller Group? Call your family! Get them to use their resources to fix this!” Mikel’s eyes darted around frantically, sweat pouring down his forehead. “Rachel… it’s… it’s not that simple. I can’t just make decisions for the Miller Group by myself.” Suddenly, the room went completely silent. The summit was starting. My mother, Victoria Miller, the founder of the Miller Group, walked onto the stage wearing an elegant designer dress. She looked around the room, her eyes softening as they landed on me. She smiled into the microphone. “Today, I want to introduce someone who is vital to the future of the Miller Group. My son, Frank Monroe.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462020”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In order to scrape together the sky-high medical bills for my mother, who had leukemia, and also to train the healthiest possible bone marrow so I could donate it to her. I went to the construction site without hesitation. I ate the hardest bread, lived in a prefab shack that leaked from every side, and sent every last cent of my blood-and-sweat money to her. For three years, I finally saved up that “life-saving money,” and I also built myself a solid body. I thought the hard days were finally over, so I rushed home full of excitement, only to hear my stepfather’s voice outside the door. “The money’s been tricked out of her, and her body’s been trained up too. Why aren’t you hurrying up and getting her tested?” My mom sneered. “What’s the rush? I haven’t used up my poor, sick person act yet!” “If we don’t squeeze every last bit of value out of her, how else is she supposed to willingly become Thompson’s free bone marrow bank?” At that, Thompson on the side let out a scream. “Mom! I don’t care! If you don’t let Alice donate bone marrow to me, I’m telling her we have several villas and that you’re not even sick!” The cold wind outside cut like a knife, and when I looked down at my own hands, covered in thick calluses and scars, all the blood in my body seemed to freeze. The next second, I dialed the number I had kept hidden for more than ten years. “This time, I’m willing to come home.”

The voice on the other end was careful, and a smile was impossible to hide. “Good! Good! My Alice!” I hung up and shoved my phone back into my pocket, while laughter was still going on inside. “Mom, how much money did that idiot send this time?” “Three hundred thousand. With everything from before, it’s almost enough for Thompson to study abroad for a while.” “Mom really knows how to handle things. She’s got Alice that fool wrapped around her finger.” With a blank face, I pushed open the half-closed door. The three people in the room—my mom, Bella; my stepfather, Harris; and my younger half-brother, Thompson—froze with their smiles still on their faces. My mom was the first to react. She immediately clutched her chest and started coughing hard, her face going pale as death, looking like she could keel over any second. “Alice, you’re back… cough cough… why didn’t you say something first? Look at you, you’ve gotten so thin from working at the construction site.” She was so good at acting. For three years, she had tricked me into giving her everything with that same act. Harris hurried to back her up too. “Yeah, Alice, sit down. Your mom’s been talking about you this whole time.” Only Thompson, the precious son they spoiled rotten, didn’t bother hiding his disgust. He pinched his nose and exaggeratedly took two steps back. “You reek of sweat. Disgusting! Alice, can’t you wash up before coming in?” I ignored him and went straight to my mom. “Did you get the money?” My mom froze for a moment, then quickly put on a weak but relieved smile. “We got it, Alice. You’ve really suffered. My illness is all depending on you.” “Now that the money’s enough, let’s go to the hospital tomorrow for the bone marrow match.” A flash of panic crossed my mom’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by greed. She grabbed my hand. Her hands were well cared for, soft and smooth, completely different from mine. “Alice, the doctor said… said the surgery fee went up again. We’re still short a little bit…” “And the matching isn’t urgent. Your health matters most.” “You need to recover more, build yourself up nice and strong. That way the bone marrow quality will be best.” I looked at her and suddenly smiled. “Really? I thought you were all in a hurry.” “After all, if we don’t get the bone marrow swapped soon, Thompson won’t be able to hide it much longer.”

The color drained from my mom’s face in an instant, and this time it wasn’t fake. She violently shook off my hand, as if she had touched something filthy. “You… what nonsense are you talking about!” Harris panicked too, pointing at me as he shouted sharply, “Alice! How can you talk to your mom like that! She’s seriously ill, and you’re saying things like this to upset her. Do you even have a conscience!” I couldn’t be bothered to waste words on them, so I turned and walked toward the storage room at the end of the hallway. That was my room. There was no window inside, only a hard bed and a few pieces of my ragged clothing. Right next door was Thompson’s room. It was the biggest room in the house, and the closet was stuffed full of all kinds of designer brands. Even the old clothes he didn’t want were cleaner than what I was wearing. That was the difference between Thompson and the “bone marrow bank.” I took out the biggest woven sack I had and threw all my things into it. Harris blocked the doorway, his face dark. “Alice, what do you mean by this? Your mom is still sick, and you want to leave?” When I ignored him, Harris started trying to appeal to my feelings. “Alice, we know you’ve had it hard, but we didn’t have any choice either.” “You can’t bear to see Thompson get hurt, can you? Your mom did all this for the family, so…” I cut him off. “She did it for the family, so she can treat me like trash she can throw away whenever she wants?” “For the family, she could lie to me for three years, use me as a free bone marrow bank and an ATM?” Harris’s face went white, then red, and he couldn’t say a word. In the living room, my mom began screaming and crying like a madwoman. “Alice! Why is my life so bitter! Why did I give birth to you!” “Your poor dad didn’t want you after the divorce, and I was the one who raised you!” “Now that I’m sick and need you to save my life, you want to abandon me. Your conscience has been eaten by a dog!” If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I almost would have believed her again. Because of her so-called “raising me,” I had hated my biological father for more than ten years and was willing to be invisible in this family. But her “raising me” was nothing more than making me sleep in a storage room, eat leftovers, and endure my stepfather’s cold stares.

I slung the woven sack over my shoulder, pushed Harris out of the way, and went straight outside. He tried to stop me, but the strength I had built up from years of working at the construction site was nothing to laugh at. When my mom saw that, she stopped crying too. Without looking back, I left that house. Now I had to go to the hospital. Over the past three years, every physical exam report I had ever gotten had been taken away by them under the excuse that it was “easier for the doctor to keep track of things.” I needed to make sure they hadn’t tampered with my body without me knowing. Just as I reached the hospital entrance, I saw Thompson. He was dressed head to toe in designer clothes, with the latest limited-edition sneakers on his feet, chatting and laughing with a few friends. When he saw me, the smile on his face immediately turned to disgust. “Well, well, if it isn’t my brick-carrying construction worker sister, Alice?” His friends burst out laughing. “Thompson, this is the idiot sister you were talking about? She worked herself into looking like a beggar just to get your mom treated.” “That’s so touching, too bad she’s just a sucker.” Thompson looked smug and walked up to me, fanning the gray, dusty fabric of my clothes with his hand. “Hey, you’d better go back obediently, or else you’re going to regret it.” I sneered, “I’m waiting. Let’s see what you can do.” Thompson was furious and grabbed my arm. “Alice, don’t push your luck! I’m telling you, you’re just a dog our family raised. I tell you what to do, and you do it!” Just then, my mom and Harris also came running over. Seeing us struggling, my mom immediately rushed up and, without even thinking, slapped me across the face. With a crisp, loud smack. “You ungrateful brat! How dare you lay a hand on Thompson!” She pointed at my nose and started shouting outside the hospital. “Everybody come look! This unfilial daughter has a mother with leukemia and doesn’t care at all, and now she’s even trying to hit her little brother!” “I worked so hard to raise her, and this is how she repays me! I might as well die!” While crying and screaming, she even started to lunge toward a pillar nearby.

The crowd around us immediately gathered in, pointing fingers at me. “How can she be like that? Look how pitiful her mom is.” “She looks pretty strong, so why is her heart so cruel?” “Today’s young people really have no conscience.” I covered my burning cheek and stared coldly at this ugly family of three in front of me. The cursing from around us rose and fell in waves, and I couldn’t go head-on against them. I grabbed my mom’s arm. “Don’t smash into anything. I’m out of money.” I pulled an empty card out of my woven sack. “There’s still three hundred thousand in this card.” “This is the last ‘life-saving money’ I prepared for you.” “I asked around. There’s a coworker at the construction site whose wife also has leukemia. He said the bone marrow transplant and follow-up treatment cost at least one million.” “I don’t have that much, so I really can’t do anything.” I spoke sincerely, with just the right amount of guilt and helplessness in my eyes. My mom immediately stopped throwing a fit and instead grabbed my hand. “Alice, I know you’ve done your best. I don’t blame you.” She wiped the corner of her eye, where there weren’t any tears at all, and her voice turned incredibly gentle. “If the money isn’t enough, we’ll think of something else. You’re my only hope.” “As long as you listen obediently and give me your bone marrow, I’ll be saved.” Harris also chimed in beside her. “Yeah, Alice, we’ll figure out the money. You just need to take care of your body first. The match is what matters most.” I nodded, pretending I had been persuaded. “Okay, then let’s go get the old physical exam reports first and let the doctor take another look. I want to see whether my condition is actually suitable for donation.” What I said made perfect sense, and they didn’t doubt me. When I finally got that thick stack of physical exam reports, my heart settled. Every single report showed that all my numbers were shockingly good. Healthy, strong, the perfect bone marrow donor. They really went to a lot of trouble for this. To get to this day, they must have spent a huge amount of effort!

“Alice, since the reports are fine, let’s go do the match right now!” My mom urged me impatiently, afraid I might change my mind. I held the stack of reports and shook my head. “Mom, not yet.” “What do you mean, not yet?” My mom’s face instantly fell. I put on a troubled expression. “I… I know a boss. He said if I can have dinner with him, he might be willing to lend me seven hundred thousand.” As soon as I said that, my mom and Harris both stared. Seven hundred thousand! For them, that was not a small amount. My mom immediately grabbed my hand and asked urgently, “Really? Which boss? Can we trust him?” Harris also looked tense. “Alice, you can’t joke about this. Don’t get tricked by someone.” He sounded righteous, like he was truly worried about me. I sneered inwardly, but on my face I wore the innocent look of someone inexperienced in the world. “I don’t know if he’s reliable either, but this is the only way I have.” “He said he’d treat me to dinner at SKY tonight, and then he’d give me the money.” SKY was the most exclusive private club in the city, with per-person spending so high it was outrageous. When my mom heard the name, the doubt on her face instantly turned into complete belief. Anyone who could treat people there had to be somebody important. “Good! Alice, you have to go!” She rubbed her hands excitedly. “This is my life on the line! You have to seize this chance!” “But… how can you go dressed like this?” She looked me over with disgust. “You need to change into something decent. You can’t leave a bad impression on the boss.” Without giving me a chance to refuse, she dragged me to the mall. For once, she bought me a white dress, and she even bought me a pair of high heels. In the mirror, after the grime on my face was washed away and I put on clean clothes, I actually looked a little delicate. It was just that my feet, used to sneakers, really weren’t used to the confinement of high heels. My mom looked at me in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. “Now you look presentable.” She instructed me, “Alice, be clever tonight. You have to get that money.” “For me, even if you suffer a little, you need to endure it, understand?” I nodded, pretending I was a obedient puppet. At night, I arrived at the entrance of SKY at the agreed time. I knew that right now, my mom and the others were hiding somewhere nearby, waiting for me to bring back that seven hundred thousand.

The club was glittering and luxurious, and even the doormen at the entrance wore crisp uniforms. I stood at the door in my ill-fitting high heels and had no intention of going in. My mom and Harris were already anxious like ants on a hot pan. Just then, a black Rolls-Royce slowly pulled up at the entrance. The door opened, and a middle-aged man in a tailored suit got out. He walked straight toward me. My mom and Harris, hiding in the shadows, nearly had their eyes pop out. “Miss, I’m Mr. Stewart’s driver. He asked me to come get you first. He’s gone to prepare a gift for you and will be here soon.” I nodded. “No rush. I’ll wait for him here.” Seeing that we still weren’t going in, my mom couldn’t hold back anymore and rushed out from the corner. “What are you acting so high and mighty for! The boss is already here, so hurry up and go serve him!” As she spoke, she pushed me forward hard, her face stacked with a flattering smile as she turned to the driver. “Boss, please don’t mind her! This girl has never seen the world. I’ll teach her a lesson for you!” My stepfather also rushed over in a flurry, rubbing his hands together, his face full of panic. “Yeah, Alice, hurry up and greet the boss! Don’t offend a VIP!” The driver was confused by the whole scene and looked at them with open disgust. “Who are you people? Move aside!” My mom froze for a second and only thought the driver was putting on airs. The smile on her face got even wider. “Boss, you’re really funny! I’m her biological mother, so she has to listen to me!” My mom gave me wild looks, trying to signal me, but I didn’t budge. She lost her patience and raised her hand to slap me hard across the face. My cheek instantly swelled up. “I raised you for nothing! I asked you to have dinner with the boss, and you’re already giving me attitude? What good are you!” The next second, she turned to the driver again, and her face changed from vicious to sycophantic in an instant. “Boss, don’t take it personally!” “I’m her mother, so give the seventy thousand straight to me! What does a little girl like her know anyway!” “As long as the money’s in place, let alone having dinner with you, she can even sleep with you!” The driver’s face instantly turned ashen, and he was about to explode. A furious voice came from behind him. “What do you think you’re doing to my daughter?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462019”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

A week before the wedding, I was tortured by thugs for a day and a night on my way to pick up my engagement ring. When they found me, my face was unrecognizable, and I was covered in blood from below. My dad and my brother Harry canceled a trillion-dollar merger deal and flew back home overnight just to stay by my side. In the middle of the night, I heard Harry quietly ask Dad: “Even if it was to help Aurora marry Marcus, it still wasn’t necessary to have someone hurt Charlotte this badly.” “She’s a girl, after all. Her face and her virtue are ruined. How is she supposed to live after this?” A flash of pain crossed Dad’s face, but he still said firmly, “Aurora has never asked me for anything. The only thing she has ever liked is Marcus.” “With Charlotte here, how could the Sterling family ever accept Aurora as an illegitimate daughter?” “As for Charlotte, I’ll fulfill her mother’s last wish.” “Making her the heir to the company is also a way to make sure she has food and shelter for the rest of her life.” Only then did I realize that all of this was their way of forcing me to give up my place for Aurora. The so-called family bond was nothing but an illusion. If that’s how it was, then fine. I’ll let you have your way.

I heard them talking outside the door, and my whole body felt like it had been thrown into an ice cave. Harry seemed a little reluctant, then said, “But Charlotte will be devastated if she finds out.” Dad frowned, still just as firm. “Aurora is your sister too. Back when your mother was still alive, I didn’t bring her home.” “Letting her live outside all these years under the label of an illegitimate daughter has already been unfair to her.” “Aurora is well-behaved and sensible. For more than ten years, she never asked for anything.” “She just wants to chase love a little. Can’t we even satisfy that tiny wish of hers?” A conflicted look flashed across Harry’s face, but he still asked in frustration, “But the Sterling family has financial ties to us after all. If we suddenly switch people and send Aurora to marry into that family, will they really agree?” Dad thought for a moment. “The Sterling family will see the news report tomorrow…” Harry seemed to think of something and hurriedly pulled out his phone. “I’ll contact the media. No matter how much it costs, we have to bury this news.” “We absolutely can’t let a single word leak about what happened to Charlotte.” Dad reached out to stop him. “No, not only do we not need to stop it, we need to report it big-time. The more people know, the better!” “If we marry Aurora into that family, the Sterling family and us already have a marriage agreement in place. They’ll only think we’re stepping in to save the situation.” “That way, they’ll treat Aurora even better, and they won’t take their anger out on her because of this either.” After a pause, Harry actually nodded too. “Dad, you’re right. Aurora isn’t like Charlotte. She was born with nothing.” “As long as she marries into the Sterling family and lives a good life, we can finally relax.” “Charlotte’s personality is spoiled. She could use a little hardship and tempering anyway.” Dad answered a call. The pain on his face vanished without a trace, replaced by joy, and he promised the person on the other end of the line, “Aurora, don’t worry. Tomorrow, Dad guarantees you’ll marry Marcus.” “Just get everything ready and be the happiest bride ever!” Aurora said something I couldn’t hear, and the father and son both laughed very happily. I closed my eyes in despair. Dad was willing to have someone hurt me just to plan so thoroughly for Aurora. The brother I thought doted on me, the father I thought loved me, turned out to be willing to trample my dignity and reputation just to pave the way for Aurora. I lost all strength and collapsed to the floor. Dad and Harry heard the noise and hurried over. Dad held me in his arms and gently touched my forehead with loving care. “Charlotte, you’re hurt this badly. Instead of lying down properly, you walked out barefoot. Are you trying to break my heart?” Harry even pushed a wheelchair over for me and used a towel to wipe my feet. As if I were still his beloved daughter, his only biological sister. Dad’s eyes were bloodshot from staying up all night worrying about my condition, yet he still sat by my bedside and watched me fall asleep. “Once you wake up, everything will be fine. Charlotte, it’s over. I’ll always be by your side.” They seemed to really love me. I turned away and cried until there were no tears left. When the doctor came in, he said, “Your daughter’s facial injuries are quite serious. If she doesn’t have surgery soon, she may be left with permanent scars.” Harry said anxiously, “How can that be? Charlotte cares about her looks the most. If she gets even a pimple, she’ll complain for half a day.” Dad just waved a hand and told the doctor to leave first. He thought I was asleep, and without any hesitation, he said softly, “Charlotte is beautiful. She’s been the center of attention at school since she was little. With her around, everyone will never notice Aurora.” “Charlotte’s face is ruined, so Aurora won’t have to envy Charlotte anymore.” I bit down hard, refusing to let myself make a sound. That made me think of when Mom had just died. I was only six then, crying all day long until my eyes swelled up like walnuts. Dad held me and said heartbrokenly, “As long as I’m alive, I’ll be good to Charlotte for the rest of my life.” Harry also said he only had one sister, and that was me. They forgot their promises so fast. After a sleepless night, the doctor examined my body and it was too horrible to look at. My whole body was covered in bruises, and my face was wrapped in thick bandages. He couldn’t help muttering, “They say Chris and Harry love Charlotte like their lives depend on it. So why are they still going shopping with Aurora first thing in the morning after she was hurt like this?”

My nose stung as I blinked, and tears soaked into my wounds, making my face burn with pain. My phone wasn’t on the table, but Dad’s computer was left there. I tremblingly opened the news, and when I saw the headline, my mind went blank. News of what had happened to me was all over the place. Even though I was already prepared, my heart still felt like it was being cut by a knife. A message popped up on the computer: “Mr. Chris, are you sure you want to transfer all the real estate and shares under your name to Miss Aurora?” Dad replied, “These are all gifts for Aurora.” “She’s not like Charlotte. Charlotte was born with everything. I’m giving her everything Charlotte has!” Harry even gave Aurora several luxury cars and the estate under his name. They always said they had shortchanged Aurora. But when I opened Aurora’s Ins, everything I had, she had an identical copy of. Even the things I didn’t have, she had too. Her birthday was only one day apart from mine, and every year Dad and Harry gave me expensive gifts, claiming they were on business trips overseas. It turned out they were staying by Aurora’s side and celebrating her birthday with her, never missing it once. She posted photos of herself with Dad and Harry, captioned “A happy family.” She posted a picture of a flower field and said Dad and Harry had planted it for her themselves. So the happiness I thought I had was just an illusion. I laughed coldly. Then I picked up the phone and called my grandmother Melanie, who was overseas. Not long after I hung up, I heard laughter at the door. Aurora walked in, followed by Dad and Harry. When they saw me, they put away their smiles and replaced them with looks of concern. “Charlotte, you’re awake? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?” But Aurora’s smile was still blinding. “Charlotte, Dad told me what happened to you. Don’t be too upset.” She casually comforted me for a few words, then pulled several dresses out of her bag and changed into them. She said sweetly, “This morning I dragged Dad and Harry to pick out dresses with me.” “Harry said this red one looks good, and Dad insisted white suits me better.” “Charlotte, you have good taste. Help me pick one!” She tugged at the hem of her dress and spun around innocently, yet she looked proud and smug no matter how you looked at her. I let out a cold laugh and said, “Don’t call me. I’m not acknowledging the daughter of a homewrecker as my sister.” Aurora’s little face went pale, and her eyes instantly turned red. “I… I just wasn’t sure what style Marcus likes. I thought you’d know better, so I asked you.” “I know I’m just an illegitimate daughter, and me marrying Marcus was already an accident.” “If you’re unhappy, then I’ll leave!” She ran out crying, but Dad and Harry both rushed to stand up for her. “Aurora was just too happy and wanted someone to share it with. Charlotte, don’t go too far!” Dad even snapped at me, “Charlotte, I really have spoiled you. You don’t have the slightest bit of manners!” “She found out about your accident and didn’t sleep all night because she was so worried. And you? You actually said that to her!” “Apologize to Aurora right now and say you didn’t mean it!” Dad and Harry chased after her, and even though I already knew their choice, I still felt a little sad. When I woke up the next day. Harry took the bowl from the nurse thoughtfully, spooned the soup, blew it cool, and handed it to me to drink. It was as if the person who had blamed me for Aurora yesterday wasn’t him. “Charlotte, about yesterday, I already apologized to Aurora for you. She won’t blame you.” Dad took a call and brought me back home. “For your wounds, Dad found top doctors in the country to treat you.” They busied themselves with arranging my discharge, not caring that I was weak and could only move around with a wheelchair. I got into the car, only to realize this wasn’t the way home at all.

The car gradually headed toward a club. Only then did Dad say, “Aurora was thoughtful and was worried you’d be in a bad mood, so she specially threw you a welcome-back party after your discharge.” “She invited a lot of your friends and the Sterling family, planning to give you a surprise.” I struggled endlessly. The moment I heard that, I knew Aurora had bad intentions. But Harry pressed down on my arm and said in a tone that left no room for argument, “Aurora kindly threw this party for you. If you don’t show up, wouldn’t you be wasting her good intentions?” “Besides, with your condition, going out and joining some activities is just a way to relax!” I resigned myself and let them take me to the banquet. They said it was a welcome party for me, but Aurora was wearing a white dress with layers of tulle and exquisite makeup on her face. My face was disfigured, and the ugly knife wound looked like a centipede, making her look even more like a princess. Aurora said something I didn’t hear, and somehow got Marcus’s mother, Caroline, laughing until the wrinkles on her face smoothed out. But the moment she saw me, her expression fell. “Why bring this unlucky jinx here?” “With something like this happening, if she really married into our family, wouldn’t we be laughed to death?” As she spoke, she held Aurora’s hand and looked more satisfied the more she looked. “Aurora is so sensible and well-behaved, unlike some people who still have the nerve to show up after something like this.” “Make sure you don’t bring any bad luck with you.” The Harry and Dad who always said they loved and cherished me stood there only focusing on being affectionate with Aurora, not saying a single word for me. Harry said quietly, “Caroline has a blunt personality. Don’t think too much about it.” The other guests at the party pointed at me even more. “That’s her, Marcus’s original fiancée. She was supposed to be the Christopher family’s only daughter, but she’s not even as good as an illegitimate daughter!” “So she’s the Christopher family’s daughter? I think she’s just a ruined woman. Did you see the news?” “After something like this, she still has the nerve to come out? She should just go die!” I held back the sourness in my eyes. Then I looked toward Aurora’s side, where she was embracing and kissing my original fiancé, Marcus, all lovey-dovey. Harry and Dad were also extremely satisfied. Aurora may have been an illegitimate daughter, but she got everything. Looking at my ruined body, the difference between her and me was like heaven and earth. Was this what you wanted to see? I said I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go rest. Aurora walked over gracefully and said hypocritically, “It was all my oversight, Charlotte.” “Your body hasn’t recovered yet. You must be tired, right? I’ll take you to rest.” She pushed my wheelchair and took me into a room. But behind me, her smile changed from the one she had just had, and was replaced by a venomous look. “How does it feel? Being hated by everyone?” “Did you think you were still the Christopher family’s only daughter who once shone brightest in the whole city?” “You’re nothing now but a worn-out woman everyone despises!” “Marcus and I are deeply in love, and Caroline likes me more too.” I glared at her fiercely. “So what? That’s still better than being an illegitimate daughter who can’t even be seen in public!” She froze for a moment, then smiled smugly and said, “You didn’t know, did you?” “Dad is going to announce my identity in a couple of days so I can marry Marcus, and he’ll let me inherit his and Harry’s assets in a legitimate way.” “As long as Dad and Harry acknowledge me, do you think the outside world will keep talking about me being an illegitimate daughter?” Her smile was wild and unrestrained. I couldn’t believe it. Before Mom died, Dad promised her that he would never marry another woman in this lifetime and would only ever have one daughter. But now, he was going to legitimize Aurora, this illegitimate daughter. How was that fair to my mother? How was that fair to me? Aurora leaned close to my ear and said, “Charlotte, I’ve got another surprise for you too!” A man walked in holding a glass of water. The second I saw him, my pupils widened, my whole body trembled, and my chest felt sealed shut so I couldn’t breathe.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462018”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

At the family banquet, my wife Catherine insisted on giving her first love Fred’s child a home. She even publicly announced that Fred’s child was her child. Even the photos on the big screen had been replaced with pictures of Fred’s child. But my child was gone, and no matter how frantically I searched the entire hall, I couldn’t find my child. I could only rush onto the stage and demand to know why our child had become someone else’s child. But with red-rimmed eyes, Catherine begged me: “Albert, Fred’s child is my child too.” “I want to be this child’s mother. You should be able to understand how I feel, right?” “Don’t worry, I’ll always love our child the most.” “Our child is being taken good care of by Fred. Nothing will happen to them.” Hearing her careless tone, I was finally able to find our child in the storage room, panic-stricken. Looking at Catherine on stage, I thought she seemed to have forgotten one thing. That the only reason I could still stay by her side was because of this child. Since she no longer loved our child, I should leave her world too.

Under the stunned looks of the other relatives, I walked out of the storage room holding my child. “Catherine, what’s going on? Why did Albert bring out another child?” “Yeah, I remember you only had one child. Where did the child in his arms come from?” The relatives who had come to the banquet were looking back and forth between me and Catherine. Catherine held the child in her arms, and after freezing for a second, she hurriedly found an excuse and explained: “That’s a child we adopted. The kid has a sad background, and having two kids will make the house livelier.” Hearing Catherine’s explanation from the stage, I felt my whole body freeze. For the sake of her first love, Fred, she could actually call someone else’s child her own. And she could even describe our child as an adopted child. The child in my arms also seemed uncomfortable in this noisy scene and kept crying. I hurriedly patted the child, only then remembering that the child hadn’t eaten for six hours. Just then, Catherine also came down affectionately holding Fred’s child. Catherine smiled at me: “Albert, thanks for not making trouble this time.” “Look how cute Fred’s child is. We’re all family now, so say hi to Fred’s child.” I held the child in my arms and forced down the anger in my chest before speaking: “Catherine, do you know Angel hasn’t eaten for six hours?” To prepare for today’s banquet, Catherine and I had started getting ready three months ago. I had thought today’s banquet would be the happiest time for our family of three. But the banquet we had carefully prepared together had turned into something for Fred’s child. And now, for Fred’s child, not only had she put the child in a pitch-black storage room, she had also gone this long without feeding them. Catherine looked at Angel crying in my arms, and her face went pale. Panic flashed in her eyes. At that moment, Fred arrived just in time and naturally wrapped his arms around Catherine. “Catherine, thank you for being willing to be my child’s mom. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to repay you.” It was as if they were the real family. My eyes stung, and my gaze turned even colder. “Fred, take the child for a moment.” But Fred looked at me and put on a hurt expression. “Albert, even if you don’t want Catherine to be my child’s mother, you can’t deliberately pinch Angel until she cries!” As he spoke, Fred’s eyes even turned slightly red. “And I even made formula for Angel myself. Albert, you can’t just make false accusations like that!” Catherine, who had been anxious a moment ago, suddenly froze too. Holding Fred’s child, she frowned at me. “Come on, Albert. Isn’t this kind of cheap trick childish?” “Besides, Fred has taken such good care of Angel. How could he not feed her?” “Angel only started crying after she got to you!” But I had clearly seen from Angel’s trembling body that she was crying because she was hungry, and her stomach was completely empty. She didn’t even look at Angel once and just believed what Fred said. I took a deep breath, forced down the anger in my chest, and said through gritted teeth: “Catherine, do you know where I found Angel?” “It was in a storage room, an empty, pitch-black storage room!” Catherine froze slightly, but when she glanced at Fred beside her, she immediately frowned and asked: “How could a child be in a storage room? The child was clearly being taken care of by Fred the whole time.” “Enough, Albert. If you keep acting, you’re going too far!” I laughed in anger. “Acting? Catherine, would I joke about my own daughter?” Fred continued to hold Catherine affectionately right in front of me, looking wounded. “Albert, don’t be mad. Angel isn’t even hurt, is she?” “Besides, look, you’ve scared our child to tears.” Catherine noticed that Fred’s child in her arms was crying too, and she quickly started soothing them softly. “Don’t cry… don’t cry. Are you hungry? Mommy will feed you right away.” Watching how much attention Catherine gave Fred’s child in her arms, disappointment filled my eyes. Had she still not realized it? She had never cared about me or Angel at all. Catherine had always liked Fred and favored him in everything. Three years ago, Fred announced his relationship overseas. Catherine chased after him and got into an accident on the road, leaving her unable to walk. I stayed by her side day and night, encouraging her and helping her with rehab until she finally recovered, and she married me. A year ago, we had our daughter, Angel. Just when I thought our family of three would live happily ever after, Fred came to this city with his newborn child. For the past year, Catherine had barely come home at all and had just kept going back and forth to Fred’s house. Up until now, she cared more about Fred’s child than Angel. Looking at the scene before me, I knew it was time to leave. There was no need for me to keep staying by her side. Seeing that I stayed silent, Catherine sighed: “Albert, I don’t have time to take care of Angel right now.” “You take Angel home first and wait for me to come back. Don’t make trouble here, okay?” I just looked at Catherine coldly. Right now, everything she said was about Fred. There was already no place left for me and Angel in her heart. Then I wouldn’t keep holding on anymore. I said in a voice cold as ice: “Catherine, Angel and I will never give you any more trouble. Let’s get divorced!”

Hearing this, Catherine’s heart suddenly jolted. “Albert, what nonsense are you talking about?” “We just had Angel. Why are you talking about divorce?” “I get it. Are you still mad at me?” “It’s just adopting a child. Why have you suddenly become so petty?” I only felt confused by Catherine’s questions. She loved Fred and his child so much. As long as she agreed to the divorce, wouldn’t she be able to be with Fred officially? And become Fred’s child’s mother? Wouldn’t that be great? I didn’t want to keep dealing with this anymore. I could feel Angel trembling slightly in my arms from hunger. Fred pulled Catherine aside and whispered in her ear: “Catherine, divorce is complicated. You already have a child now. How could you possibly get divorced that easily?” “And how could Albert really divorce you?” “He loves you so much. Even when you and I were together for so long, he never even lost his temper with me.” Hearing this, Catherine immediately agreed. All these years, no matter what she did, I had always been able to tolerate everything about her perfectly. This time, it had to just be me throwing a little fit, and wasn’t it just adding another child to the family? What was the big deal? So she nodded. “Fred, you’re right. Divorce is so troublesome. We’d need a lawyer to divide the property, and then there’d be custody of the child.” “And with how much Albert loves me, how could he possibly divorce me?” As she spoke, she looked at me with disappointment. “Albert, because I didn’t want Fred’s child to become my child, you’re actually trying to threaten me with divorce!” “I’m telling you, it’s impossible. I have to raise Fred’s child!” Hearing that everything Catherine said was about Fred and his child, the last bit of hope in my heart shattered completely. The Catherine I had once loved was now thinking only about Fred and his child. I bent down and kissed Angel. “Angel, from now on, it’ll just be the two of us. We won’t need her anymore, okay?” Catherine’s face darkened, and she quickly reached out to me. “Albert, what are you talking about? I’m Angel’s mother!” I slapped away Catherine’s hand, picked up Angel with a cold face, hailed a taxi, and hurried home. Seeing me leave, Catherine instinctively tried to chase after me. But Fred grabbed her, and after looking down at the child in her arms still crying, she didn’t come after me.

After I got home, I quickly mixed a bottle of formula, shook it to cool it down, and carefully fed it to Angel. I also took that time to print out the divorce papers. While Angel was sucking down the milk, the photographer sent me a string of videos. “Here are the banquet photos we took for you. See if they’re to your liking?” When I opened the videos, I saw Catherine and Fred, taking turns holding the child in their arms, looking unbelievably sweet. Maybe the photographers had subconsciously mistaken Fred for me. Just then, I suddenly noticed that after Angel took a few big gulps of milk, she started vomiting, and her face turned even paler. This was clearly a symptom of lactose intolerance. A chill made me shiver. I quickly checked the formula. Angel was lactose intolerant, and all the formula at home was non-lactose formula, but the one I had just made had no problem at all. So why had Angel suddenly become like this? Looking at how miserable Angel was, I didn’t dare waste a second and immediately called emergency services. After calling for an ambulance, I hurriedly called Catherine too, since she was Angel’s mother. “Catherine, where are you? Come back now! Angel is in trouble, she—” Before I could finish, Catherine on the other end impatiently cut me off: “Are you done yet? Fred’s child accidentally caught a chill, and we’re at the hospital!” “Even now you’re trying to fight for attention? Are you really this petty as a grown man?” Before I could say anything, Fred’s gentle voice came through from the other end. “Catherine, was that Albert calling?” “If Albert really doesn’t like my child, then it’s fine if I stay with the child alone.” Hearing that, Catherine kept scolding me: “You know Fred’s child is the one who needs care right now, and you still want me to leave them and come back alone!” “Do you know how dangerous it is for a one-year-old to catch a cold?” Watching Angel, who was already in pain and clutching herself, I hurriedly said: “No, Angel is lactose intolerant. She’s already vomiting and having diarrhea. Come back right away!” But Fred on the other end put on a hurt tone again. “Albert, if you want Catherine to come back, just say so. There’s no need to beat around the bush.” Catherine was even angrier now. She couldn’t help but snap: “Enough with you. You’re enjoying this act now, huh?” “One minute you say Angel’s in trouble, and the next you say she’s vomiting and having diarrhea. Nothing that comes out of your mouth is true.” “I still have to take care of Fred’s child. I don’t have time to keep arguing with you.” “Be smart and stop calling me to bother me.” After saying that, Catherine hung up directly. Listening to the ruthless hang-up and looking at Angel suffering in my arms, it felt like my heart had been pierced by thousands of blades. Yes, Catherine only cared about Fred and his child now. What did Angel and I even count for? What was I still hoping for? Hoping she would abandon Fred’s child and rush back because of Angel? The ambulance arrived very quickly. I hurried with Angel to the hospital. Only one-year-old Angel was sent into the ER, while I was dragged outside and harshly scolded by a doctor: “What kind of father are you? If there hadn’t happened to be a specialist here, your daughter might have died!” “She’s been lactose intolerant for six or seven hours already. Why did you only bring her in now? Were you trying to kill your daughter on purpose?” After hearing the doctor’s scolding, I sat dazed in the hospital hallway. What do you mean she’d been lactose intolerant for six or seven hours? Angel had only been vomiting for a little while. Just as I was thinking, a familiar voice suddenly came from beside me: “Huh? Albert, why are you at the children’s hospital too?”

I looked up and saw Fred and the other two. Catherine was arm in arm with Fred in an unusually intimate way, while Fred’s child was smiling as they touched Catherine’s face. They said it was a cold, but in reality it was just a little chill. There was barely any problem at all. When she saw me looking over, Catherine quickly let go of Fred’s arm. That caused a flash of gloom to pass through Fred’s eyes. “Albert, what are you doing at the hospital? Where’s Angel?” I held back my anger and said coldly: “Why am I here? Because Angel was sent into the ER!” Catherine’s face instantly went pale, and her whole body was trembling. She asked anxiously: “What happened? Why was Angel sent to the ER? Wasn’t she fine before?” My gaze turned sharply toward Fred, who was standing off to the side. Just now, I had been thinking about what the doctor said. Why did they say Angel had already been lactose intolerant for six or seven hours? But now I seemed to understand. Six hours ago, Angel was taken away by Fred! Then everything lined up! Fred also flashed with panic. He forced out a smile and said: “Catherine, look, Angel is only one year old. Even if she’s lactose intolerant, how much time has even passed?” “How could she possibly have been sent to the ER? At most, she just needs some medicine.” “Albert, if you’re going to make up a lie, at least make it sound more believable.” Hearing Fred’s words, Catherine, who had been anxious a moment ago, suddenly relaxed. When she looked at me again, her face was full of disappointment. “Albert, I don’t know how you’ve become like this.” “To make up this kind of lie just to scare me? Do you hate Fred’s child that much? Do you disrespect my wishes that much?” As she spoke, she looked around and, not seeing Angel anywhere, anger rose in her voice. “Where’s Angel? Because you were throwing a tantrum with me, did you leave Angel alone at home?” “Don’t you know she’s only one year old?” Fred took Catherine’s hand and spoke softly: “Catherine, calm down. The doctor said our child caught a chill. We should hurry back. Let’s not stay in a crowded place like this.” Catherine looked at me with anger all over her face. “Get back home right now. If anything happens to Angel while she’s alone at home, we might as well not stay together anymore.” As she spoke, Fred tried to pull Catherine away from there. But how could I let Fred get away that easily? I grabbed his wrist. “You’re not allowed to leave. I think you’re deliberately trying to harm Angel!” Seeing this, Catherine shouted: “Albert, what the hell is wrong with you now? Threatening me with Angel won’t work, so now you’re just laying hands on people?” “I’m warning you, let go of Fred right now!” Seeing that I still wouldn’t let go, she slapped me across the face. “Do you have to make me divorce you before you’re satisfied?” The slap was hard. Blood even seeped out of the corner of my mouth. But I just licked the blood off my lip and used my other hand to call the police. Seeing the blood at the corner of my mouth, Catherine panicked a little too and hurriedly explained: “I didn’t mean to hit that hard! And this is your fault too. Who told you to treat Fred like that?” “Besides, Fred has been so good to Angel. How could he possibly harm her?” “Stop framing Fred here!” I laughed in anger, my eyes growing even colder as I looked at Catherine. “Framing him? Then tell me why Angel was left alone in a pitch-black storage room.” “Tell me, was that Fred’s doing?” “Now Angel has been sent to the ER. Do you know what the doctor said?” “He said Angel had already been lactose intolerant for six or seven hours, and it only got this serious because it was left untreated until now.” “Six or seven hours ago was when you handed Angel over to Fred, and you still say I’m framing him?” Hearing me say that, Catherine froze for a second, then got even angrier. “Stop talking nonsense here! I know Fred better than you do!” “Albert, I never expected you to be this shameless. Just to frame Fred, you actually cursed our daughter!” “Angel is your biological child!” My anger only grew stronger, and I said in a voice cold as ice: “So you do know Angel is our biological daughter?” “Then where were you when Angel got sick this whole past year? Where were you when she wanted her mother?” As I said that, I got even angrier: “Now Angel has lactose intolerance. This is life-threatening.” “I called you, and you were still comforting some other kid? Telling me not to bother you!” “Someone like you still deserves to be Angel’s mother?” Catherine was stung hard by my words, and she snapped back furiously: “Are you ever going to stop? I’m Angel’s real mother. Wouldn’t I know how healthy she is?” “Albert, you really disgust me. Just so I’d leave Fred’s child and come home, you made up such a disgusting lie.” “If you keep making a scene like this, then there’s no point in us staying together. Let’s divorce!” With rage all over my face, I slammed the divorce agreement I had already prepared right onto Catherine’s face. “Catherine, you don’t need to say it. I already prepared it!” “Don’t you want to raise Fred’s child?” “Then go ahead and become his child’s mother for real. From now on, Angel and I will have nothing to do with you ever again!” Catherine’s face instantly went pale, but then she shouted at me with a red face: “Albert, you really think you’ve achieved something, don’t you? Just because of this one little thing, you really want to divorce me?” “Fine, then let’s divorce. Anyone who backs out is a bastard!” My gaze grew even colder as I shouted with all the anger in my chest: “Catherine, say that again?” “You call this a little thing? Because of Fred, Angel is already almost dead!” Catherine was so angry her hair almost stood on end. She shouted even louder: “Albert, enough! How long are you going to keep acting?” A nurse on duty shouted at us because of all the noise: “Quiet! You’re the father. Don’t you know you’re supposed to stay quiet while someone is being treated?” Catherine suddenly felt a wave of unease. She hurriedly asked: “Nurse, whose child is in the ER?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462017”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

1 The night our night nurse, Maeve, finally left our house, she held my twenty-day-old son in her arms and cried for nearly ten minutes. It was a performative display of grief that felt heavy and suffocating. She gently patted his swaddled back, weeping into the soft fibers of his cotton blanket. “Oh, sweet little Ollie… Grandma Maeve is truly going to miss you so much.” My mother-in-law, Evelyn, stood beside her with tear-rimmed eyes, visibly touched by the display of devotion. I, on the other hand, felt a bone-chilling cold creep up the back of my neck. In the hyper-professional world of elite private childcare, this level of emotional projection wasn’t maternal—it was a red flag the size of a billboard. The moment Maeve stepped into the elevator and the doors hissed shut, I didn’t wait to breathe. I shut the heavy front door, engaged the deadbolt, pulled out my phone, and immediately revoked her temporary keypad code on our smart lock system. My fingers trembled slightly as I watched the status change to Access Denied. At 3:24 AM, the fragile peace of the house shattered. Ollie suddenly started spitting up his milk—a wet, congested sound that quickly escalated into inconsolable, high-pitched crying. At that exact second, my phone chimed with a security alert from the Ring app: Failed Entry Attempt: Expired Keypad Access Code. Then a second attempt. And a third. Coaxing my wailing baby against my chest, feeling his tiny heart thudding frantically against my ribs, I opened the live feed for the front porch camera. Maeve was standing outside our door. Parked in the driveway behind her was an unmarked white van with tinted windows and a generic red cross decal slapped hastily onto the side door. Two men in white medical scrubs stood by the vehicle; one held an insulated infant transport carrier, while the other casually scrolled through his phone. They didn’t look like paramedics. They looked like technicians for a high-end logistics firm. Maeve leaned close to the video doorbell, keeping her voice in a strained, hushed whisper that vibrated through the speaker. “Nora, honey, open up! I saw the light on. Ollie’s condition looks wrong tonight—I had a feeling his breathing was off. I brought an emergency transport van to take him in for a re-check. We need to move!” I pressed the intercom button, my voice deathly calm. “Should I dial 911 right now, or would you prefer explaining this unauthorized visit to the police yourself?” The porch went dead silent for a few agonizing seconds. On the screen, the mask of motherly tenderness on Maeve’s face froze for a fraction of a second, revealing a hard, calculating gaze before melting back into a warm, practiced smile. “Nora, sweetie, don’t misunderstand. I’m just worried sick about the baby. I’ve been thinking about him since I left.” I stared at the white van in the driveway. The red cross was visibly peeling at the corner. There was no hospital name, no city logo, and no municipal license plate anywhere on the vehicle. “Which hospital?” I demanded through the speaker. Maeve hesitated. “An affiliated pediatric night clinic. They have a private emergency lane.” “What’s the attending physician’s name?” “Nora, this isn’t the time to be pedantic! Ollie is barely three weeks old—infant aspiration and hidden complications aren’t something you can spot with the naked eye! Every second matters!” “If you don’t leave my property in five seconds,” I said, “I’m calling the police.” The man holding the transport box flicked his eyes up at the camera, a subtle, predatory movement. Maeve pressed her face even closer to the glass, her voice dropping into a sinister, urgent hiss. “You just gave birth, Nora. Don’t let your postpartum paranoia turn you hysterical. If something happens to that baby tonight because you were too stubborn to accept help, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” I tapped the emergency icon on my screen and dialed 911 directly. “911, what is your emergency?” the operator’s clear, professional voice echoed through the porch speaker. The moment Maeve heard the operator, her expression transformed completely. The mask didn’t just slip; it vanished. Without another word, she spun around, motioned to the two men, and hurried toward the van. Within seconds, the engine roared to life, and the vehicle sped away, its headlights cutting a jagged path into the dark, silent street. Silence reclaimed the hallway. I sat on the edge of the bed, my palms drenched in cold sweat, clutching Ollie so tight he whimpered. I took screenshots of the smart lock’s failed access logs, downloaded the front porch video footage, and forwarded everything to my husband, Daniel. He was out of town on a business trip in Chicago, but his call came through almost instantly. “I’m booking the earliest flight back right now. Call the local precinct to file a formal report, Nora. Do not tamper with the original video files. Keep the house in full lockdown.” “Daniel…” My voice cracked slightly. “Your mother thinks I’m the one being unreasonable. She thinks Maeve was just attached to Ollie.” Daniel paused on the other end of the line, his tone dropping into a steady, unshakeable anchor. “My mother sees the world through a lens of social etiquette. I trust your instincts, babe. Completely. Don’t let anyone in.” A sudden wave of heat pricked behind my eyes. Over the past twenty-something days of my fourth trimester, I had swallowed far too many variations of the same patronizing script: “You’re just overthinking things.” “Maeve is a certified five-star night nanny.” “She’s cared for dozens of newborns in luxury homes.” “She has way more experience than you do.” “You just gave birth, Nora. It’s completely normal to feel overly anxious.” But what I had observed over those three weeks wasn’t “professional experience.” It was the way she constantly used her nursing routine as an excuse to take high-resolution photos of Ollie’s face, his ears, his wrists, and the pale red birthmark on the sole of his foot. It was the way she initiated casual conversations, slyly asking where we kept our social security cards, whether his birth certificate had been issued yet, and if our security codes were rarely changed. It was the way she repeatedly recounted horror stories of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) to my mother-in-law, scaring Evelyn so effectively that the poor woman would get up multiple times a night just to check if Ollie was still breathing, her mind warped by Maeve’s “expert” warnings. And it was the way she wrapped her arms around my son before leaving, calling herself his “Grandma.” She wasn’t his grandmother. She was merely a hired night doula paid by the hour. At 4:00 AM, an officer took my formal report. He logged the incident details and advised me not to engage with the woman if she returned, instructing me to call 911 immediately if there was another approach. When morning broke, Evelyn watched the porch camera footage. Her very first response wasn’t alarm, but a nagging, misplaced doubt: “Could the baby really be feeling unwell? What if she was actually trying to help? She seemed so devastated when she left, Nora.” I looked at her, exhausted to the marrow of my bones. “Evelyn, she brought an unmarked, unregistered van to our house at three in the morning.” “Well… maybe it was a private concierge transport service? Some of these high-end agencies have their own medical teams.” “Would a legitimate medical transport try to sneak into our house using an expired keypad code?” My mother-in-law’s face darkened, a defensive edge creeping into her voice. “Nora, I’m not saying you’re wrong. I just feel Maeve was genuinely devoted to Ollie during her weeks here. She wept so hard when she left—she doesn’t seem like a bad person. You’re being very hard on her professional reputation.” I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Criminals don’t usually send a courtesy notice before they commit a crime, Evelyn.” She snapped her mouth shut, visibly offended. But the skepticism in her eyes didn’t fade in the slightest. I knew that deep down, she still trusted the “experienced specialist” over her “hysterical” daughter-in-law. At 8:00 AM, I called the elite care placement agency. The line was answered by the supervisory manager, Ms. Kensington. “Mrs. Ross, we’ve already spoken with Maeve. She explained that last night was driven purely by her professional duty. She was deeply concerned that the baby had a silent aspiration risk, so she arranged for a partnered private pediatric crew to assist.” “Which hospital was this crew partnered with?” I asked flatly. “We are currently verifying those details with her.” “What was the license plate number of the vehicle?” “Maeve mentioned it was an urgent situation, so she didn’t note the plate down.” “How does a medical transport operate on public roads without license plates or official markings?” There was a brief, awkward silence on the other end of the line before Ms. Kensington smoothly pivoted back to her corporate script. “Mrs. Ross, we understand completely that you are in a sensitive postpartum recovery phase right now. It’s entirely natural for mothers to experience heightened anxiety. Maeve is one of our top-rated five-star specialists with glowing reviews from numerous high-profile families.” There it was again. Postpartum anxiety. The ultimate gaslighting tool. “She attempted to enter my private residence after midnight using an expired security code,” I said, my voice turning icy. “In legal terms, that’s attempted unlawful entry, not ‘professional duty.’ If you don’t provide me with her full background check within the hour, my next call is to the District Attorney’s office.” Ms. Kensington’s tone chilled significantly. “Mrs. Ross, that is a very serious allegation. If no actual loss or harm occurred, we strongly advise resolving this through internal mediation first. Litigation is a long and exhausting process for a new mother.” “My son was nearly abducted from my home. You don’t consider that a loss?” She went dead silent. I hung up the phone and saved the call recording. Next, I contacted our building’s concierge management, demanding the CCTV footage from the service elevator and the underground garage from earlier that morning. The building manager initially tried to stall. “Mrs. Ross, security footage involves the privacy of other residents. We can’t just release raw files without a subpoena.” I cut him off instantly. “I have already filed a formal police report for attempted intrusion. If you refuse to cooperate with a victim of a crime on your premises, I’ll have Detective Hayes come down here and we can discuss the building’s liability.” Thirty minutes later, the manager emailed me the video clips. Maeve hadn’t entered through the main lobby. She had taken the freight elevator up from the subterranean parking garage Level 2. The white van had been parked in the shadowed bay beside the emergency fire exit for nine minutes. The two men in white coats had worn heavy surgical masks the entire time, their faces entirely obscured. A wave of nausea washed over me as I watched the screen. What if I hadn’t revoked that keypad code last night? What if I had fallen into a deep sleep after feeding Ollie? What if my mother-in-law had heard the door and opened it without checking? Where would Ollie be right now? I couldn’t bear to finish the thought. I went to Ollie’s nursery and pulled out his favorite comfort item—a small, plush blue dolphin lovey blanket. He always clutched it in his tiny fists while sleeping; if you took it away, he would squirm and whimper. I took a small, waterproof casing containing a fresh Apple AirTag, carefully tucked it into a tiny sealed pouch, and sewed it deep into the plush stuffing of the dolphin’s belly, stitching the seam tight with double-stranded upholstery thread. Evelyn walked into the room and frowned when she saw what I was doing. “What on earth are you sewing into his toy?” “A tracker,” I replied without looking up. “Just in case.” “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nora! ‘Just in case’ of what?” I raised my head to look at her. “Last night was a ‘just in case.’” Her face went pale for a second before her tone turned defensive again. “Nora, you are exhausting yourself. The baby is barely a month old, and you’re treating our home like a war zone.” “I’d rather be exhausted than lose my son.” Evelyn’s eyes welled with hurt. “I am Ollie’s grandmother! Do you think I don’t care about his safety? You talk as if you’re the only person in this family who loves him!” I didn’t answer her. Loving a child doesn’t mean you know how to protect him. And it certainly doesn’t mean you can spot a predator hiding behind a warm, professional smile. At noon, Maeve called Evelyn’s cell phone. Evelyn didn’t put it on speaker, but standing near the kitchen doorway, I could hear every word filtering through the earpiece. “Evelyn… is Nora still holding a grudge against me? I’m not upset for myself, I’m just terrified for the baby… She’s far too tense right now, and that kind of stress can really harm the baby’s development… Infant reflux, jaundice, sudden respiratory arrest—these aren’t things a first-time mother should take lightly…” Evelyn held the phone, her shoulders slumping as she murmured hesitantly into the receiver. I walked over, took the phone straight out of her hand, and put it to my ear. “Maeve.” Silence fell over the line. “If you contact my mother-in-law one more time,” I said evenly, “I will file a restraining order and update the police on your harassment.” Maeve let out a soft, pitying sigh. “Nora, sweetie, why have you become so paranoid? I cared for little Ollie for weeks. Did I ever do anything to harm him?” “You didn’t succeed last night,” I replied. “There’s a difference.” The line went completely dead. Over the next forty-eight hours, an invisible, suffocating tension wrapped around our apartment like a tightening wire. I locked down the house entirely. Deliveries were left outside the door. Evelyn didn’t argue openly, but her expression grew colder with every passing hour. She posted photos of Ollie in our extended family group chat on iMessage. Underneath, a cousin asked: “I heard you guys let the night nurse go? Is everything okay?” Evelyn replied: “Nora doesn’t trust anyone right now. She won’t let a soul near the baby. It’s the hormones, I suppose.” Predictably, the unsolicited advice from Daniel’s relatives began flooding my inbox. “First-time moms always overthink things.” “Your mother-in-law just wants what’s best for her grandson, don’t treat her like an outsider.” I didn’t reply to a single one. Daniel managed to wrap up his meetings early and booked a flight landing at 1:00 PM on the third day. Looking at his flight confirmation text, the crushing weight in my chest finally loosened a fraction. But that brief moment of relief almost cost me my son’s life. That morning, Ollie drank his formula a little too fast. Right after I finished burping him, he suddenly spit up a large gulp of milk. Infant stomach valves are loose, and spitting up after a rushed feed is common. I immediately turned him onto his side, cleared his airway, and gently patted his back. Ollie cried twice, his face flushing red for a moment before his breathing stabilized. Evelyn, however, went into an absolute frenzy. Her hands were visibly shaking. “Oh my god! Did he choke?! Is he aspirating?!” “No, Evelyn. His airway is completely clear.” “But his face went so red!” “Babies flush when they cry. It’s physiological.” Clearly unconvinced, Evelyn turned around and reached for her phone on the counter. I stepped forward immediately, blocking her path. “Who are you calling?” “I’m just calling a medical expert to ask!” “Which expert?” Her eyes flicked away guiltily. I reached over and grabbed her phone. The screen was open to Maeve’s contact card. An outgoing call had already been logged seconds ago. “Evelyn… you are still in touch with her?!” Evelyn panicked, shouting back at me. “I was just asking an opinion! She told me severe reflux can lead to silent pneumonia if it isn’t monitored by a professional!” “She is not a doctor!” “But she has cared for dozens of babies! She has the experience you lack!” Tears spilled down Evelyn’s cheeks. “Nora, you can’t put my grandson’s life at risk just because you’re holding an unreasonable grudge!” I cradled Ollie against my chest, my heart hammering violently. At that exact second, the doorbell chimed. Once. Twice. The wall monitor lit up. Two men dressed in white medical coats stood outside. One of them held up an official-looking badge. “Pediatric emergency transport,” a voice called out. “Parents, please open the door immediately. We received a remote alert regarding an infant in distress.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. It was the exact same two men. Evelyn looked at the screen as if she had just seen a savior, instantly walking toward the foyer door. “Do not open that door!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. She froze, turning back to me with tears streaming down her face. “Nora, what if Ollie really is in danger?! You can’t gamble with his life!” “I am not gambling with his life, which is why I am never letting them touch him!” The doorbell rang incessantly. The second man outside spoke through the intercom, his tone sharp. “Family, hurry up! If the infant suffers oxygen deprivation, who is going to take responsibility?!” I pulled out my phone, clutching Ollie tight, and dialed 911 directly while switching on the front door video recording. “State your medical facility’s name and your license numbers now,” I called out through the intercom. “I am recording this for the 911 dispatcher.” The two men outside exchanged a rapid, nervous glance. Without a word, both turned on their heels and sprinted down the corridor toward the stairwell. Evelyn stood frozen in the foyer, her mouth slightly open. I walked over and thrust my phone screen right in front of her face. “Do you see that now?! Do legitimate paramedics run away the second you mention calling 911?!” Her lips trembled violently, but no words came out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “538204”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I am a specialist in high-risk obstetrics. I’ve spent my career pulling mothers and infants back from the brink of the abyss, navigating the razor-thin line between a miracle and a tragedy. Yet, when it was my turn, I nearly didn’t make it off the table. When they finally wheeled me out of the OR, my husband, Nathan, was waiting. He’d been “on a business trip” for six months and had supposedly rushed straight from the airport. He looked frantic, his face a mask of exhaustion. He reached out, his thumb brushing a smudge of dried sweat from my temple. He didn’t even glance at the bassinet beside me. “Are you tired?” he whispered. I was too weak to speak, so I simply nodded. I looked at him, then at the tiny, swaddled bundle of my daughter, feeling a surge of hard-won peace. I thought this was the moment my life became whole. Then Nathan leaned down, his lips ghosting over my forehead, and he let out a low, chilling laugh. “Fourteen hours, Elena. You’ve been lying there for fourteen hours, and you have the nerve to say you’re tired?” His voice dropped to a venomous hiss. “I’ve been standing out here for fourteen hours waiting for you to squeeze out this bastard. Do you hear me complaining?” I froze. The world didn’t just slow down; it stopped. My brain felt like a skipped track on a record. What did he just say? Nathan straightened up. He looked down at my daughter with a visceral flash of disgust. “Three years ago, when Isla left for Paris, I had a vasectomy,” he said, his face turning into a mask of cold stone. “So tell me, Elena. Whose is it? Which ‘friend’ from the hospital did you use to replace me?” The silence that followed was deafening. I felt the fresh stitches in my abdomen throb, a sharp, tearing sensation as if he were physically ripping me open again. The ten months of morning sickness, the pre-eclampsia, the near-hemorrhage on the table—it all felt like a grotesque punchline. I looked at his sneering face, then pulled my daughter closer. A cold, sharp laugh escaped my throat. My daughter doesn’t need a father like this, I thought. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Nathan’s voice rose, irritation bleeding into his tone. He leaned in closer, his fingers roughly catching a tear at the corner of my eye. “What, are you still trying to protect the guy?” My chest heaved. The pain was rhythmic now, a dull roar. I couldn’t believe this was the same man I had lived with for three years. The man everyone called a “saint.” “I didn’t… I never…” I gasped, the physical toll of the labor finally catching up to my lungs. Nathan sighed, a sound of condescending pity. “Elena, stop. Give it up. There is no biological world where that child is mine.” A chill washed over me, starting at my scalp and settling in my marrow. He sounded so certain. So righteous. But I knew the truth. Nathan never actually had the surgery. Three years ago, when he went into our hospital for the procedure, my colleague, Sarah, had pulled me aside in the hallway, her eyes bright with envy. “Elena, you found a unicorn,” she’d told me. “Nathan told us you were worried about your fertility, so he volunteered to get snipped. He said if anyone asks why you don’t have kids, he’ll take the fall so the pressure isn’t on you. He really loves you, babe.” I remember the warmth that had flooded my chest then. I had watched his back as he walked into the prep room, my eyes stinging with gratitude. I had quietly intercepted Sarah before she went in. “Just give him the local anesthetic,” I had whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “Make him think he had it done, but don’t actually perform the occlusion. I don’t want him to make a sacrifice he might regret later.” Sarah had laughed, patting my shoulder. “You two are something else. Fine, I’ll play along.” But standing here now, looking at the man Nathan had become, that memory felt like a poisoned draught. He hadn’t wanted a vasectomy to protect my feelings. He’d wanted it because of Isla Montgomery. He never wanted a child with me. And now, he was using my own mercy as a weapon to brand me an adulteress. “I can’t believe you,” Nathan spat, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. “You were so desperate you actually went out and ‘borrowed’ someone else’s DNA? How pathetic are you, Elena? Did you really think you could lie your way through a birth certificate?” Every word was a scalpel, flaying me alive. I’d spent years blaming myself for our “struggles.” As a top-tier OB-GYN, I had ushered thousands of lives into the world, yet I spent my nights staring at my own lab results, weeping over perfect hormone levels and clear ultrasounds. I had swallowed bitter herbal teas, tracked my temperature like a hawk, and stayed up late praying for a miracle—all while he watched me with that “gentle” look, knowing he’d never intended to let it happen. Nathan glanced down at my bandage, where a small spot of red was beginning to bloom. His brow furrowed, and his voice softened—not with love, but with the terrifying calm of a man who thought he’d already won. “Look,” he said, brushing a stray hair from my forehead. “I’ve been patient. I waited until you actually delivered. If you hadn’t been so weak, I probably wouldn’t have let you carry this thing to term, but a late-term termination would have been too risky for your health.” He sighed, as if he were making a grand sacrifice. “But it’s here now. It’s your child, and I suppose I’m a man of my word. I’ll raise it. I won’t let you two starve.” He began to stroke the back of my hand, his touch feeling like a snake sliding over skin. “I can pretend none of this happened,” he murmured. “Isla is moving back from Paris next week. As long as you can learn to get along with her—as long as you accept her place in this family—I’ll treat this baby like my own.” I stiffened. My skin burned where he touched me. “You were with her?” I whispered. “The ‘business trip’ for the last six months… you were with Isla?” His hand paused. “When I was so sick I couldn’t keep water down… when my legs were so swollen I couldn’t walk… you were with her?” Nathan leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Elena, there was never a business trip. I just couldn’t stand the sight of you bloated with another man’s secret.” He kissed my earlobe—a gesture that was half-caress, half-warning. “You don’t get to question me,” he whispered. “I’m letting the affair slide. But you owe me. And you owe Isla. You’ll spend the rest of your life making it up to her.” I felt like I was falling through ice. “What could I possibly owe either of you?” “You stole her wedding three years ago. You’re suffering a little now. It’s only fair.” I was speechless. Nathan spoke with the absolute conviction of a cult leader. Isla Montgomery was the daughter of my parents’ best friends. After her parents died in a crash, she moved in with us. She was the golden child—the one who got the private lessons, the designer clothes, and the lion’s share of my parents’ affection. I was the “surprise” biological daughter who arrived late and lived in her shadow. Nathan was supposed to be the prize at the end of the race. When Isla decided to move to Paris to “find herself,” my parents set me up with Nathan Mercer. He was charming, stable, and polite. We were married within six months. It wasn’t until after the wedding that I found out the Mercers and the Montgomerys had a long-standing “understanding.” Nathan and Isla had been together for four years before she left. “Up until the day of the rehearsal, I thought Isla would be the one in the white dress,” Nathan had told me once, early in our marriage. “But since I couldn’t have her, anyone would do. You were just the one standing there.” At the time, I had tried to ignore the sting. I thought I could earn his love. And Isla? On her way out the door, she had squeezed my hand and told me, “Elena, don’t be so provincial. Don’t pin your whole life on one man. The world is huge. Go see it.” I had been a fool. I thought she was being supportive. I didn’t realize she was laughing at me. “Isla told me everything,” Nathan said, his eyes dark with a twisted kind of grief. “She said you were the one who pushed for the marriage because you were obsessed with me. She didn’t want to break your heart, so she stepped aside.” I didn’t even know where to start. How do you argue with a delusion? Nathan went quiet for a moment, then let out a secret he’d clearly been holding onto like a trophy. “Elena… Isla is pregnant. We used a donor… a clinical procedure while I was visiting.” The world finally clicked into place. All the missed calls, the “late nights at the office,” the six-month disappearance. He hadn’t been avoiding the “shame” of my pregnancy. He had been building a replacement life. “I’m just a placeholder, aren’t I?” I said, my voice finally steadying. “A way to keep the family optics clean until you could find a way to bring her back in.” Nathan’s expression shifted. “No. I do care about you, Elena. But you have a debt to pay to Isla.” I looked into his eyes and started to laugh. It was a jagged, ugly sound. To justify his own betrayal, he had constructed an alternate reality where I was the villain and he was the long-suffering martyr. “I didn’t cheat, Nathan. This baby is yours. Believe it or don’t. But I’m done. You’re a coward who can’t even own his own choices.” The “gentleman” mask finally shattered. Nathan’s face contorted with rage. He grabbed my jaw, his thumb pressing hard into my bone. “Don’t you dare bait me, Elena. You want to know why your parents aren’t here today? It’s because Isla landed this morning. They’re at the house, throwing her a homecoming party while you’re in here playing the victim.” He shoved me back into the pillows and stormed out, the door slamming with a force that made the medical monitors chirp in protest. I looked down at the baby in my arms. Her eyes were open—dark, curious pools. She didn’t know her grandparents had abandoned her for a party. She didn’t know her father had called her a mistake. I held her tight. I didn’t want this “family” anymore. Against medical advice, I checked myself out of the hospital twelve hours later. By the time the Uber pulled up to our suburban home, it was dark. I walked through the front door, leaning heavily on the frame. The house was glowing. Laughter drifted from the living room. Isla was on the sofa, tucked under Nathan’s arm. They looked like a catalog ad for a perfect life. My parents were in the armchairs, beaming. The room went silent the moment they saw me. Isla was the first to move. She stood up, her face a mask of practiced concern. “Elena! What are you doing here? You should be in bed, honey.” She reached for the baby. I pivoted, shielding my daughter with my body. I looked at Isla’s slightly rounded stomach—her “clinical” miracle. My mother stepped forward, her voice sharp with disapproval. “Elena, honestly. You’re always so dramatic. Why couldn’t you just stay at the hospital instead of ruining Isla’s first night back?” “Mom, I just had a baby,” I said, my voice sounding like it was coming from the bottom of a well. My father slammed his scotch glass onto the coffee table. “Plenty of women have babies, Elena! Don’t use that as an excuse to be bitter. Isla flew ten hours to see us, and you walk in here looking like a ghost just to suck the air out of the room.” My mother sighed. “Elena, Nathan told us everything. He told us about his surgery. He told us about… your situation. He’s being so incredibly generous, offering to move Isla in so we can all be together and raise the children as siblings.” The room spun. They knew. They knew about Nathan’s “vasectomy,” and they’d spent my entire pregnancy watching me struggle, laughing behind my back while they waited for their favorite daughter to return. “You all make me sick,” I whispered. Nathan’s face darkened. Isla looked down, her voice trembling. “I just wanted us to be a family again…” “Shut up,” I snapped. “You left because you wanted to play in Paris, and now you’re back because you need a safety net. You’re pathetic.” “Elena!” my father roared, standing up. “How dare you speak to her like that! This house, this life—it was supposed to be hers. She gave it to you out of the goodness of her heart, and this is how you thank her?” My mother nodded. “He’s right. You’ve had three years of being Mrs. Mercer. You should be grateful Nathan is willing to overlook your infidelity. Just accept the arrangement. It’s for the best.” I looked at my mother. She looked back with genuine pity—pity for Nathan, for having to deal with a “cheating” wife. I didn’t say another word. I turned around, walked out the front door, and never looked back. I moved into the hospital’s on-call dorms. Ten square feet. A cot. A drafty window. I stuffed the gaps with towels so my daughter, Sophie, wouldn’t get cold. Before I left the house, Nathan had cornered me. “If you walk out that door, Elena, I will make sure you lose everything. You won’t have a career left in this city.” I didn’t care. I opened my laptop and checked my inbox. St. Jude’s International in London had been trying to headhunt me for a year. The salary was double. The position was Chief of Obstetrics. I had turned them down because I didn’t want to leave Nathan. Now, there was no reason to stay. Within a week, the rumors started. The nurses whispered when I walked by. Someone left a printout of a “paternity test” article in the breakroom. My department head called me in and told me I was being placed on administrative leave due to “personal scandals reflecting poorly on the hospital.” I knew Nathan’s hand was behind it. He was trying to break me. I went back to the dorm to find him standing by Sophie’s crib. He looked conflicted—angry, yet strangely drawn to the baby. He reached out to touch her hand, then pulled back. “You did this,” I said, dropping the leave notice on the table. “I told you I’d protect you if you came home,” he said, his voice returning to that terrifyingly soft tone. “Isla is waiting for you, Elena. Come home.” “No.” Nathan’s eyes flashed. “Fine. If you won’t be a wife, then you don’t get to be a mother. I’ll have that child put into foster care. She’s a bastard anyway; she’s just a drag on your career.” I felt a surge of adrenaline so strong it made my teeth ache. “Go ahead. Tell the world she’s not yours. I’ll take the DNA test. I’ll show the world exactly what kind of ‘saint’ you are.” Nathan flinched. The mask was slipping again. “You’re actually choosing a bastard over me?” “She’s not a bastard. She’s my daughter. And she’s yours, you idiot. You just didn’t want her.” “I’m done with your lies!” Nathan screamed, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled. I didn’t cry. I picked up the phone. “St. Jude’s? This is Dr. Mercer. I’ll take the position. I can be in London by Monday.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “538203”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 For our third wedding anniversary, Connor asked me what I wanted. My friend Sarah had called me an idiot. “Other wives ask for diamond tennis bracelets or a week in Cabo,” she’d said over the phone. “And you’re asking for a Bosch dishwasher.” I didn’t argue. I just sat on the edge of the bed, gently rubbing the cracked, peeling skin on my knuckles. I just wanted the raw, aching dermatitis—a souvenir from years of scrubbing pots in freezing water—to stop burning. But a month passed, and the delivery never came. When I finally asked him about it, Connor was standing at the kitchen island, meticulously tying a silk ribbon around a glossy gift box. He didn’t even look up. “I’ve been so swamped getting Piper’s college send-off packages together. I canceled the dishwasher order for now. I’ll order it next month, I promise.” I froze. A memory from last month surfaced unbidden. My younger sister, Piper, lounging on our sofa, twirling her hair and declaring, “Connor, since you’re practically the dad I never had, my NYU freshman survival kit needs to include that new Saint Laurent tote. Connor had chuckled, calling her shameless, but he still let her snatch his phone to scroll through Nordstrom. Looking at the gift box on the counter—which likely held a bag worth ten times the dishwasher—a sudden, bone-deep exhaustion washed over me. Some things, I realized, you wait and wait for, until you finally understand they are never coming. So you stop waiting. … After tucking the final piece of tissue paper into the box, Connor finally noticed me. He tilted his head, looking mildly confused. “Harper? Why are you just standing there?” Before I could answer, he added, “Did you wash the organic raspberries? Piper’s going to want a snack the second she gets back.” My fingers curled into the fabric of my apron, tightening, then releasing. The front door slammed. Piper practically squealed as she dropped her keys and took in the mountain of gifts on the dining table. But my eyes bypassed the presents. I was staring at the vintage band tee she was wearing. It was a limited-edition tour shirt I’d spent six hours queuing in the rain to buy for Connor’s birthday. Back when he first got it, he was so protective of it he wouldn’t even let his college roommates touch it. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Piper, why are you wearing Connor’s shirt?” Connor’s posture stiffened. Piper just rolled her eyes, picking at her manicured nails. “I didn’t have anything clean to wear. I just grabbed the first thing I saw in the laundry room this morning.” I pressed my lips together. “You could have borrowed something of mine.” She let out a theatrical scoff. “God, Harper, your style is basically ‘depressed librarian.’ Why would I wear your clothes?” Connor stepped smoothly between us, the eternal peacekeeper. “Alright, let’s dial it down. It’s just a shirt. Piper, be nice to your sister.” He turned to her with an indulgent smile. “Out of clean clothes? Tell you what, we’ll clear out your Revolve shopping cart tonight.” A mountain of gifts on the table. And now, an entire online cart to be paid for. The dishwasher I needed cost twelve hundred dollars. I was supposed to wait until next month. “Okay, let’s eat,” Connor announced, pulling out a chair. “Piper, sit here. The short ribs are right in front of you.” I stared at the Dutch oven full of slow-braised beef short ribs. I hadn’t said a word. It was my favorite dish, too. At the dinner table, Piper held court, chatting animatedly about her upcoming dorm life, while Connor listened, an affectionate smile playing on his lips. “A dishwasher? Why do you guys need one?” Piper suddenly pointed her fork at me, letting out a sharp laugh. “You already have one right there! As long as Harper’s here, why waste the money?” She turned to me, her tone dipping into faux-concern. “Honestly, Harper, Connor works so hard at the firm. You should really try to be less high-maintenance with his money.” I set my fork down. The ceramic clinked sharply against the table. “That’s enough.” Connor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if I were giving him a migraine. He looked at me with pure, distilled disappointment. “Harper, she’s eighteen. Are you really going to pick a fight over a joke?” He paused, his tone shifting into something patronizing. “Besides, she has a point. Even Piper knows the value of a dollar. Lately, you’ve been acting more immature than she is.” I looked at the pile of gifts. There had to be five grand worth of designer items sitting there. My dishwasher was twelve hundred dollars. Cheaper than the Cartier love bracelet currently dangling from Piper’s wrist. I had stood over the stove for four hours making this meal. Now, I watched as Connor used the serving spoons to pile the most tender pieces of beef onto Piper’s plate, until it was a small mountain. A sudden, violent wave of nausea hit me. I pushed my chair back, bolted to the downstairs half-bath, and threw up until my ribs ached. When I finally emerged, wiping my mouth with a cold towel, the table was a mess of picked-over bones and empty plates. The short ribs—my favorite—were completely gone. They hadn’t saved me a single bite. Suddenly, a shriek echoed from the living room. Connor practically knocked his chair over rushing in. “Piper? What is it?” “My pants are ruined!” she wailed. “There’s cat hair everywhere! These are cashmere!” Connor frowned, shooting a harsh glare over his shoulder. “Harper, how did you vacuum today?” I looked down at the orange tabby curling around my ankles. The cat Piper had begged for. The cat whose litter box I emptied, whose shedding I managed, while she did nothing. “If my cleaning isn’t up to your standards,” I said, my voice eerily calm, “you can clean it yourself.” Seeing the icy resolve in my eyes, Piper clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever, I’ll go get the vacuum…” Connor caught her arm, stopping her. “Piper, stop. You’re going to be a top-tier pre-law student, a real boss. Women like you don’t do manual labor.” He turned to me, his voice dropping into that soft, manipulative cadence he used to get his way. “Harper, just go do it. Piper isn’t like you. She doesn’t know how to do these things.” She isn’t like you. As if I had been born with a vacuum in my hand. I opened my mouth, but the words stacked in my throat, choking me into silence. That night, unable to sleep, I wandered into the study. The SD card from Connor’s camera lay on the desk. Drawn by some masochistic urge, I slotted it into the laptop and opened the files. The older folders were full of me. Our honeymoon. Me laughing in the kitchen, flour on my nose. I let out a hollow, broken laugh at some of the candid, unflattering shots he’d refused to delete. But as I scrolled forward in time, the timeline shifted. Piper’s face began to appear. First at family dinners, then on weekend trips. By the time I reached the folder for the past twelve months, my face had completely disappeared. There was only her. I carefully ejected the drive and placed it exactly where I’d found it. I looked around the room. Piper’s vinyl records, her aesthetic coffee table books, her spare makeup bags—they had slowly, insidiously colonized the shelves. This house had belonged to her for a long time. I just hadn’t noticed. My hands trembled. A bitter, metallic taste coated my tongue. A home that required me to swallow my dignity to maintain its illusion wasn’t a home I wanted anymore. 2 “Why are you still up? Are you really still pouting about dinner?” Connor’s arms wrapped around my waist from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. His tone was indulgent, like a parent humoring a toddler. “You’ve gotten so temperamental lately, Harper.” I turned around. I didn’t pull away, but I looked him dead in the eye. “Connor, I don’t want Piper living here anymore.” His brow furrowed instantly. The warmth drained from his posture. “When we got married, you told me you never felt the warmth of a real family. That’s why I brought your sister here. To give you that.” “And now you want to kick her out?” He shook his head, morally outraged. “Piper hasn’t done anything wrong, Harper. She’s not the one who should be leaving.” I stared at him, the air leaving my lungs. “Are you saying I should leave?” He cleared his throat, suddenly finding the hardwood floor very interesting. “Piper wants to start a lifestyle vlog on TikTok. Having too many people in the house ruins her shot backgrounds. I was thinking… maybe you could get an Airbnb for a month? Just until her account takes off, then you can come back.” When I was sixteen, Piper told our parents she didn’t like the way I looked at her. That same night, the Evanses packed my bags and kicked me out. I had no money. I lived in a freezing, poorly insulated garage apartment behind a laundromat. The winter water had felt like broken glass against my skin. Without a washing machine, I scrubbed my clothes by hand in a utility sink. That was how the dyshidrotic eczema started. The ugly, blistering rash that covered my hands, itching and burning so badly that steroids barely took the edge off. It had kept me awake for years. Assuming my silence was submission, Connor pulled me back into his chest, his voice softening. “Tomorrow is Piper’s graduation brunch at the club. We have to be up early. Just come to bed.” I lay there listening to the steady, even rhythm of his breathing. I didn’t sleep a wink. My hands were burning. The first year of my flare-ups, he had held my hands and said, The treatments will get better. Just wait. The second year, his mother came to visit, saw me looking at appliances, and sneered, A dishwasher? Are you too good to use a sponge? The third year. Now. The dishwasher was never coming. I slipped out of bed, opened my laptop, and began quietly submitting my resume to open positions. Maybe a dishwasher wouldn’t cure my hands anyway. What I needed was to pull myself out of the toxic, suffocating rot of this environment. The graduation brunch at the country club the next day was an extravagant affair. Everyone was there for her. They clapped when she gave a rehearsed, teary-eyed speech. My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Evans, stood by her side, dabbing their eyes. Even Connor was looking at Piper with a glowing, unmistakable pride. I remembered the summer I finished high school. I spent it in the sweltering back kitchen of a diner, scraping dried ketchup off ceramic plates just to afford community college tuition. The sweat had stung my eyes. It had hurt so much. After dessert, the extended family gathered on the manicured lawn for a group photo. The event coordinator enthusiastically arranged the chairs. “Alright, everyone squeeze in!” he called out. Then, waving a hand in my direction, he added, “Excuse me, can the catering staff step out of the frame? You’re in the shot.” It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. My parents turned. The look of cold, aristocratic disdain that washed over their faces hit me like a physical blow. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. “Harper,” Connor called out. His voice was gentle, but the words were a scalpel. “Your outfit really isn’t right for the aesthetic anyway. Why don’t you just sit this one out? We’ll get a picture with you next time.” They were a picture-perfect family of four, wearing color-coordinated linen and silk. Nobody had told me about the dress code. I was wearing a plain, sensible sweater and no makeup. Of course I looked like the help. “Oh, right, that’s their older daughter,” an aunt murmured loudly to her neighbor. “She’s just… not as polished as Piper, is she?” “Right? Who doesn’t prefer a girl with some charm?” The whispers were like needles being driven directly into my eardrums. Remaining there would only strip away whatever dignity I had left. The tears threatening to spill were swallowed down with sheer force of will. I turned around and walked off the lawn. By the time I reached the edge of the property, the sky broke open. A torrential, blinding downpour. I pulled out my phone to order an Uber, but a text from Connor popped up on the screen: Harper, everyone is talking about your little stunt. Piper is crying in the bathroom. Do you really have to be this embarrassing? Come back inside and apologize. 3 I was the one excluded, humiliated in front of our entire family. Yet, the moment Piper shed a single tear, I became the villain. A heavy, suffocating weight pressed against my chest. I swiped the text away and opened LinkedIn. Every single resume I had obsessively tailored until 3 A.M. had been met with automated rejection emails. I was so focused on the screen that I didn’t see the curb. I tripped, plunging knee-deep into a puddle of freezing mud. The gravel tore through my slacks, slicing my knee. The shock and the pain finally broke the dam. The tears came, hot and fast. Covered in mud, I limped down the road until a miraculously sympathetic cab driver pulled over. “It’ll be a fifty-dollar cleaning fee for the seats on top of the fare, lady,” he grunted. I nodded frantically. But when I tapped my joint credit card on his terminal, it beeped a harsh red. Declined. I tried again. Declined. Connor had frozen the account. I had absolutely zero access to money. The driver cursed, kicked me out, and sped off, leaving me standing on the shoulder of the highway. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. My tears mixed with the Seattle rain, dripping onto the asphalt. Suddenly, a massive shadow fell over me. I looked up. A person in a giant, rain-soaked Easter Bunny mascot suit was holding an umbrella over my head. They handed me a soggy flyer. At the bottom, a line of text caught my eye: Immediate hire. Sign spinners/Mascots needed. Cash paid daily. My card was frozen. I had no cash. The house was twelve miles away, and I couldn’t even afford bus fare. Swallowing my pride, I followed the bunny to the outdoor shopping pavilion a mile away. After wiping the mud off in a public restroom, I was handed a heavy, suffocating velvet bear suit. The rain had stopped, but the humidity spiked. Inside the headpiece, it felt like a 100-degree terrarium. I lasted two hours. When I felt the edges of my vision starting to black out, I ducked into an alley, pulled the heavy head off, and desperately cracked open a water bottle. “Harper?” The voice made my spine lock. I turned. Because Piper’s feelings had been “hurt” at the brunch, the family had immediately brought her to the high-end retail pavilion to soothe her ego. Connor stood there, his brow deeply furrowed, his hands full of glossy shopping bags. Behind him, my parents recoiled at the sight of me, physically taking a step back as if poverty was contagious. I looked at the logos on Connor’s bags and felt a hysterical laugh bubble up in my throat. The cheapest silk scarf in that boutique cost twice as much as my dishwasher. And the designer hair clip Piper had casually mentioned wanting yesterday was already sitting perfectly in her hair. For my anniversary, he told me to wait. Sweat was dripping down my face, matting my hair. Connor looked at me, and his eyes held nothing but revulsion and fury. “Harper, it was just a photograph. Are you seriously throwing this kind of tantrum?” His voice was low, vibrating with anger. “Dressing up like a clown on the street? Are you trying to humiliate us on purpose?” My father stepped forward, looking apologetically at Connor. “Connor, I am so sorry. We clearly failed in raising her. It’s embarrassing for you.” Connor held up a hand, shaking his head with a cold, hollow laugh. “You don’t need to apologize, Mr. Evans. Harper, if you thought playing the victim to get back at us would work, congratulations. You win.” He looked at me like I was a stranger. “You are so vindictive. Who could ever actually love you? If I were your parents, I’d prefer Piper too.” My eyes widened. The breath was punched out of my lungs. Connor knew my deepest, most guarded trauma. He knew that the only thing that could truly break me was the lifelong rejection from my parents. I had given him that weapon in absolute trust. And he had just driven it straight into my heart. Connor closed his eyes, looking infinitely exhausted by my mere existence. “Pack your things, Harper. Move out today.” “The sooner, the better.” 4 The tears finally fell, heavy and silent, splashing onto the pavement. My hands, slick with sweat inside the costume paws, flared up in a blinding, itchy agony. The first time Connor saw my hands, we were twenty-two. He had frowned, taking my cracked fingers in his. “I’ve never seen hands look like this. Why don’t you take care of yourself?” He drove me to the best dermatologist in the city. I was completely broke; my waitressing money barely covered rent. I told him I couldn’t afford it, almost crying from the shame. But he was relentless. He told me I’d never have to be afraid again, because I had him. When I finally told him about my family, he had cried with me. He held my face and promised that no matter what happened in this life, he would always be on my side. And now, he was the one throwing me away. By the time I snapped out of the memory, they were gone. I put the heavy mascot head back on and walked back out into the sun. Hours passed. The heat didn’t break. As I handed out the fiftieth flyer, the world suddenly tilted. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I reached for it, but the pavement rushed up to meet me, and everything went black. I woke up to the sterile, blinding lights of a hospital ceiling. My phone was clutched in my hand. I opened the notification I’d missed. I sat up in the hospital bed, reading it three times just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. One of the Hail Mary resumes I had sent out had been pulled. The firm was desperate for a project director. The compensation package was staggering. The only catch? It was in Manhattan. Three thousand miles away. Before I could even type a reply, an ER nurse walked in, her face grave. “Do you know you’re pregnant, honey?” she said sharply. “You were severely dehydrated. If the ambulance had been five minutes later, you would have lost the baby.” I froze. The room spun. After she left to get my discharge papers, my fingers moved on autopilot, dialing Connor’s number. When he picked up, I tried to keep my voice steady, but it shook uncontrollably. “Connor… I’m pregnant.” There was a beat of dead silence on the line. Then, a heavy, exhausted sigh. “Harper, to avoid moving out, you’re really willing to lie about something like this?” “I’m not lying!” I pleaded, desperation leaking into my voice. “I have the ultrasound report. I’m at the hospital, I’m coming home right now to show you—” “Don’t bother.” Connor cut me off. The last shred of his patience had vanished. “I’m already at the airport for a business trip. Your suitcases are with the building concierge. Do not bother Piper. She just graduated, and she deserves one stress-free summer before college. If you try to ruin this for her, Harper, I swear to God, I won’t be polite.” He hung up. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and crushed my heart with their bare hands. I couldn’t breathe. I sat there for a long time, watching the screen go dark. Then, I quietly wiped the tears from my face. Some people are only meant to walk with you for a chapter. This was the end of ours. I signed out against medical advice, walked out of the hospital, and used the cash from the mascot job to buy a one-way red-eye ticket to JFK. Looking out the plane window as we broke through the clouds, my heart was completely, strangely calm. The distance between us was about to be insurmountable. All I wanted now was a life of my own.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “538202”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel