Author: Momo Chan

My childhood sweetheart, Julian, coaxed me into letting him take intimate photos of me. He promised they were for his eyes only. I was scared, but I was also glad that I finally had him. Until Summer, a scholarship student, and I were competing for first place in the university’s Annual Vocal Showcase. Julian looked at me indifferently. “Sera, let her win. You wouldn’t want those photos of yours circulating around campus, would you?” I froze on the spot, nodding like a fool. Seven days later, Summer won the championship as she wished. Julian deleted all the photos. A huge weight lifted off my chest, and I boarded a plane out of the country. All these years of loving him, I’ll just consider them wasted on someone like him. Julian spoke very casually. His words were short and sharp. “Agree to this, and I’ll delete all of them.” It was the peak of summer, and the heat was suffocating. Yet, I felt like I had been plunged into an ice cellar. It felt like a hard blow to the head. I opened my mouth, my voice trembling. “But you promised me…” Julian cut me off. “Yes, I promised they were for my eyes only.” His gaze locked onto mine, his voice dropping. “And I will keep my word.” “As long as you give up the first-place spot to Summer.” I stubbornly tried to argue, though my voice kept cracking. “The vocal showcase… it’s supposed to be based on actual talent.” “I… I won’t step down.” Julian seemed to have expected this. He pulled my chair closer, trapping me in his arms. Then, he pulled out his phone. He grabbed my hand and forced my finger to unlock his private photo vault. Extremely intimate, high-exposure pictures instantly filled the screen. Julian let out a soft laugh. “Sera, you really have a gorgeous body.” His lips brushed against my ear. “I like this one the best. Your skin is flushed, and you’re looking right at the camera with your mouth slightly open.” “You look so beautifully ruined…” My fingertips shook, and my voice broke into a sob. “Don’t look at it.” Julian paused and turned off the screen. His warm fingers gently wiped away the tears from the corner of my eye. “Good girl. Don’t be scared. Do we have a deal?” My fingers subconsciously clenched together, my mind completely blank. “Okay.” A satisfied smile spread across Julian’s face as he stood up. He gently smoothed down my messy hair and cooed softly, “There’s a fraternity party tonight, so I won’t be going home with you.” “I’ll have my driver take you back.” The air conditioning in the vocal practice room was blasting. I wrapped my coat tightly around myself and curled up on the chair. It was so cold. So cold. I covered my mouth, letting out muffled, suppressed sobs. Julian was the person I trusted most in the world. When I was seven, my parents brought me from our small hometown to the city and moved into a massive villa. But I couldn’t fit in. I was sunburned, scrawny, and small. I was always bullied. All I knew how to do was hide and cry. I thought that as long as I didn’t fight back, they would eventually leave me alone. Until one day, a group of boys tried to pull down my pants. I screamed through my tears, “No… get away from me!” But they didn’t stop. They only got meaner. That was when Julian showed up. He held a rock in his hand and chased them off. Then, he reached his hand out to me. “Hey, stutterer. I’m taking you home.” But my legs were too weak to stand. Julian frowned, looking highly annoyed. Yet, he still bent down and turned his back to me. “Get on.” After a moment of hesitation, I climbed onto his back. He carried me, walking slowly but steadily all the way home. After that, I became Julian’s shadow, timidly following him everywhere. I followed him for eleven years. It wasn’t until our freshman year of college that I finally gathered the courage to confess my feelings. Maybe Julian’s heart had softened. He looked at me with a charming smile and nodded. So, when Julian first suggested taking those photos. I suppressed my fear and whispered, “Will… will anyone else see them?” Julian held up the camera, his voice incredibly tender. “Never. They’re just for my private collection.” I hesitated for a moment, then pulled down the straps of my nightgown. I posed for him, one shot after another. But now, that intimate, passionate memory had turned into a sharp dagger aimed straight at my chest. I had trusted Julian so much. I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and wailed out loud. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but my eyes had run completely dry. A Snapchat notification popped up from Julian. He was as attentive as always, typing: “You cried today, so your throat is going to be sore.” “Make sure to drink some warm honey water when you get home.” I gripped my phone, heading home in a complete daze. On the way, I almost got hit by a semi-truck. My whole body went numb as I shook violently while typing in my apartment passcode. The living room was pitch black. I didn’t turn on the lights. I just sat on the couch with my knees pulled up to my chest. The clock ticked away, round after round. My phone buzzed again with a text. I clicked it mechanically. It was from my best friend, Chloe. Her tone was dead serious. “Sera, tell me the truth.” “Did Julian… did he take nude photos of you?”

Shame and suffocating panic washed over me all at once. I frantically locked my phone screen. But I had already agreed to his terms… The screen lit up again. It was a video from Chloe. With trembling hands, I tapped play. Inside a dimly lit VIP lounge at a club. Julian was holding a cigarette, his voice lazy and careless. “Don’t worry. The first-place trophy for the vocal showcase is definitely yours.” Summer, the scholarship student, was sitting right next to him. They were sitting incredibly close, their shoulders brushing. Summer forced a small smile. “Stop teasing me. Sera is beautiful and rich. I could never beat her.” Julian stared at her, dazed for a long moment. It was as if he was completely intoxicated by her presence. After a while, he spoke softly. “She won’t dare to compete with you.” Summer grabbed his hand, blinking her big eyes. “Why?” Julian fell silent. Summer didn’t press him. She just reached out to grab a wine glass from the table. Under the flashing, moody lights. Julian sighed and grabbed her wrist. “It’s that time of the month for you. Be good. No drinking.” Summer blinked, staring straight into his eyes. In that instant, Julian’s defenses crumbled completely. He pinched Summer’s cheek, smiling helplessly. “I have her nude photos in my hands. Is that enough?” The video cut off. It felt like a massive hole had been ripped into my chest. And Julian had personally poured burning sulfur right into it. It burned so badly. Chloe’s voice messages kept coming. “Sera, did you and Julian get into a fight?” “How could he say something like that?!” “And who is that girl next to him?” “Sera… did he really take those photos of you?” My throat felt like it had been sealed shut with wet concrete. I wanted to tell Chloe not to worry. But when I opened my mouth, no sound came out. So, I could only type back: “No, he was just joking.” “Are you still at your shift? Get home safe.” My head was pounding. I collapsed onto the couch. Summer… Summer… I closed my eyes, letting the tears stream down my face. At the beginning of the school year, Summer was the freshman representative. She had her hair tied up in a neat ponytail, speaking confidently on the stage. She was powerful, elegant, and radiant. At the time, I had heatstroke. I was leaning weakly against Julian’s chest in the audience. He was fanning me, laughing softly. “Look at her. She’s bursting with energy.” “And look at you, like a sick little kitten.” “How are you going to survive without me?” My head was spinning, and I looked at Summer for a second before turning to him. “Julian, I want a popsicle.” Julian tapped my forehead playfully. “No way. Do you want another stomachache?” I mumbled an okay and buried my face into his neck. I completely forgot about Summer. But as it turned out, Summer was also a music major. She was outgoing, warm, and passionate. It seemed like she had endless energy. She got along with everyone in class. Whenever Julian came to pick me up after class, he would tease me, “I wish you had half her energy.” At first, I didn’t think much of it. But later, Julian started bringing her up more and more. The honey water he specially prepared for me. He would always bring an extra bottle for her. I got angry and confronted him. “Why are you being so nice to her?” Julian crossed his long legs, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. “Sera, it’s hard for a scholarship student to study music.” “She has a tough life, she just pretends to be happy.” “It’s just honey water.” But gradually, it wasn’t just honey water anymore. It became desserts, snacks, afternoon tea… My arguments with Julian grew more frequent. He kept saying Summer was pitiful. He kept telling me to make allowances for her. Until today. For her sake, Julian had thrown everything away. My dignity, my privacy. It had all become his bargaining chips to please Summer. I stared at the single lonely star outside the window. I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong. Why did Julian stop wanting me… I bit down hard on my wrist, the salty taste of tears filling my mouth. Until the metallic taste of blood broke through. I exhausted pressed my mouth shut. It hurt. It hurt so much. I didn’t want to go through this ever again. Julian was right about one thing. I was a coward. Whenever things got tough, all I wanted to do was pull back into my shell. But I didn’t want to hurt anymore. I opened my phone and booked a one-way flight out of the country for seven days from now.

I lay in bed with a sharp, throbbing pain in my temples. But I couldn’t sleep. I pulled out my phone, typing the same search queries over and over again. “What to do if your boyfriend takes intimate photos of you?” “Will a boyfriend actually leak your photos?” “My boyfriend took intimate photos and shared them.” … As I read through the stories of girls who had gone through the same thing, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, my fingers stiffly clicking on another link: How to save yourself when intimate photos are leaked. The guides were all well-written. Tell your family. Tell your friends. Seek help… It all sounded so effortless. It looked so simple. I ran the scenarios over and over in my head. But none of those would work against Julian. He wasn’t afraid of anything. And he had the power to make anything disappear. Tears soaked my pillow. Until I couldn’t hold on anymore and finally blacked out. My sleep was restless. In my hazy state, I thought I heard the clicking of a camera shutter. I snapped awake, gripping the blanket tight. The room was dark. Only the red blinking light of a camera was visible. Julian was standing in the shadows. A smirk played on his lips, his eyes slightly bloodshot from alcohol. “Beautiful.” I jumped out of bed, reaching out to grab the camera. But Julian easily wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him. The heavy scent of his cologne mixed with tobacco rushed into my nose. I started coughing uncontrollably. Julian tightened his grip, his voice deep. “Don’t move.” “I missed you.” My nerves felt like a tight violin string. And someone was violently plucking at it. I grabbed his sleeve, my voice hoarse. “Delete… delete it.” Julian forced me to sit on his lap. “What’s wrong with your voice?” “Did you not drink the honey water last night?” “The driver said he didn’t pick you up. Are you still throwing a tantrum?” My stomach churned, and a wave of nausea hit me. I clenched my fists in silence. I struggled to get off his lap. Julian let out a sigh, sounding incredibly helpless. “I saw your phone.” My chaotic thoughts suddenly cleared up. My entire body began to shake. My plane ticket… Julian patted my back soothingly. “Your little friend told you what I said, didn’t she?” “I did bring Summer to the party last night.” “It was her birthday and she had no one to celebrate with. It was just a casual thing.” “Sera, don’t overthink it.” All the strength drained from my body, and my voice was barely a whisper. “Julian, the photo you just took… delete it, please?” “I don’t like it. I don’t want you taking them.” Julian froze. His voice turned icy cold, dripping with annoyance. “Are you still acting up?” “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” “How many times do I have to say it? I just feel bad for Summer.” “Sera, I’m not going to tolerate your attitude every single time.” Julian’s lips kept moving. His accusations came throwing at me one after another. Like heavy blows landing on my chest. Leaving me no room to breathe. I shoved him away and ran straight to the bathroom. A sour taste rose in my throat. I bent over the toilet in pain. But because I hadn’t eaten all day. I could only throw up bitter stomach acid. Behind me, hurried footsteps approached. Julian picked me up in his arms. His lips were pressed into a thin line, panic written all over his face. “Have you not been eating again?” “I’m taking you to the hospital.” I clutched his collar, sobbing, “No, I’m not going.” “Julian, please, just delete the photos.” He looked down, staring at my swollen, red eyes. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. But in the next second. Julian’s phone on the desk started buzzing. He glanced at the screen, and his face instantly cleared of any emotion. He placed me back on the bed and shoved the camera into my hands. “I’ll call the family doctor to come over.” “Get some rest.” “You can delete whatever is on the camera.” “As for the intimate photos…” Julian paused, tucking the blanket around me. “I’ll delete them for you in seven days, after the showcase is over.” He stood up and answered the phone. His voice instantly became incredibly gentle. “What’s wrong?” “Stay right there. Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.” The bedroom door slammed shut. Faintly, I thought I heard Summer crying on the other end of the line.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462008”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On my eighteenth birthday, I declined my acceptance letter to Yale University. I chose to get a job to help my family pay off their crushing debts. I was so excited to tell my mom that I had just landed a $5,000-a-month job. But then, while riding the subway, a breaking news notification popped up on my TikTok feed. I saw my dad. He was no longer the struggling, blue-collar worker with a bad back. He was wearing a bespoke suit, standing in front of a swarm of reporters as the billionaire chairman of Vance Enterprises. And his first words to the cameras were: “I officially announce that Luna Vance has failed the Vance Succession Trial. The empire will now be inherited by Chloe Vance.” I walked back to our apartment in a complete daze. In my bag, the Yale acceptance letter, the one I had torn up in tears and carefully taped back together, now felt like a branding iron against my skin. My mother, who had spent years looking exhausted and disheveled, was already dressed in a designer silk gown. She looked at me with chilling indifference. “Luna, you failed the trial.” “You’ve deeply disappointed us.” At that exact moment, the truth hit me. The poverty I had endured my entire life was a lie. And the family love I had cherished for eighteen years was nothing but a cruel, calculated game. 1 I tried to speak, but my throat felt like it was blocked by concrete. Not a single sound came out. The apartment had completely changed. The peeling, moldy wallpaper from yesterday was gone. Today, the walls were covered in a seamless, high-end gray fabric that felt incredibly soft to the touch. Our squeaky old thrift-store couch had been replaced by a sleek, Italian leather sofa. The air no longer smelled of dampness, but of expensive leather and luxury room spray. Everything felt like a silent, brutal mockery of the last eighteen years of my life. “Mom, what are you talking about?” I finally found my voice, though it shook violently. “What trial? What succession? Aren’t we $200,000 in debt? Where is Dad?” “Your father is Arthur Vance, the CEO of Vance Enterprises,” Victoria interrupted. This was the woman I had called “Mom” for eighteen years. She sat elegantly on the expensive leather sofa, her posture perfect. There was not a single trace of the warm, loving mother she had pretended to be. “We mapped out the perfect path for you. But what did you do? You threw away an Ivy League education to work some dead-end job. It’s shortsighted, Luna. You lack the big picture. You refused to follow the family’s master plan.” Blood rushed to my ears. My entire body started shaking. “I gave up college because Dad’s back was ruined! I didn’t want him working his fingers to the bone anymore! I got that job to pay off our debts!” I thought she would show some emotion. I thought she would feel a shred of guilt. But she didn’t. She merely set down her crystal glass. The sharp clink of the glass against the marble table made my heart flinch. “You see? You’re obsessed with self-sacrificial drama,” she said. Her voice was ice-cold, dripping with disappointment. “The heir to Vance Enterprises needs ruthless execution and long-term vision. You, Luna, not only quit halfway, but you also think like a peasant.” It felt like a thousand needles were stabbing into my chest. For eighteen years, I had saved every penny. In the summer, I wouldn’t even buy a dollar bottle of water. In the winter, I wore thrifted coats with holes in them. I even collected plastic bottles and cardboard to recycle for extra cents, just to help my family… I thought we were in this together. I thought we were poor but happy. But it was all a joke. I was the only one playing the part. I was just a lab rat under a microscope. “Mom…” I fought back my tears. I wanted to step closer to her, but her cold aura kept me frozen in place. “Don’t call me that. I am deeply disappointed in you.” Victoria took a slow sip of her red wine, then uttered a name I had never heard before. “Chloe did much better than you. She is the qualified heir.” Chloe Vance. The name from the trending TikTok news. The girl who was taking my place. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. The sharp pain was the only thing keeping me upright. “So… the last eighteen years of mother-daughter love… that was all fake too?” I whispered my last question. My voice was so quiet, carrying a pathetic plea I didn’t even want to admit. Victoria finally looked up and met my eyes. “Luna, you have to understand. I am your mother, but I was also the chief evaluator of this trial. I have to remain objective.” My entire world shattered. I thought, at the very least, there was some real maternal love there. But even our bond was just my own pathetic delusion. 2 I stood there, silent. I didn’t accept their methods. I didn’t accept this ridiculous, fabricated life. Below the window, a powerful engine roared. A sleek, black Maybach pulled up next to the rusty dumpsters of our rundown apartment building, looking completely out of place. The door opened, and Arthur Vance stepped out. My nominal father. His tailored suit was immaculate, looking exactly as he did on TV. Then, a girl stepped out from the passenger side. She was about my age, wearing a stunning white designer dress. She looked incredibly elegant. This was Chloe. “Mom! I missed you so much!” Chloe ran past me, lifting her skirt slightly, and threw herself into Victoria’s arms like a pampered kitten. “Oh, my sweet girl. Let me look at you.” Their warm, intimate embrace made me feel like an unwelcome stranger in my own home. In that moment, my heart completely died. The loving mother I thought I had for eighteen years felt like a ghost. Chloe stepped back from Victoria and looked toward the door, as if she had just noticed me standing there. “Oh, Dad, is this my sister?” Arthur finally tore his gaze away from his perfect daughter and looked at me. To him, I had been nothing but invisible air until now. His voice, when speaking to Chloe, was incredibly warm, a tone he had never used with me. “Yes, Chloe. This is Luna. The one who failed the trial.” Chloe looked at me. Her eyes were a mix of pity and absolute superiority, like she was looking at a stubborn, ignorant child. “Luna, don’t hate me. Honestly, I feel bad for you. Giving up college to do manual labor… that was so foolish. Knowledge and connections are the real wealth. Selling your body’s labor for a tiny paycheck at your age is incredibly shortsighted. It’s a pity you never understood that.” Every word she said was wrapped in “good intentions,” yet every syllable was a sharp blade designed to cut me open. Everything I had done was for our survival, for our future. But to her, I was just an ignorant, shortsighted failure who didn’t know any better. “I don’t need your lecture!” I snapped. Arthur frowned, clearly displeased by my outburst. “That’s enough,” Arthur said. His face was filled with cold disappointment, his tone laced with anger. “Everything you do is driven by low-level emotions, not absolute logic. You are a failure, Luna. We expected more from you.” “A failure.” I repeated the words. My entire life had been nothing but a test to choose an heir. “Yes. We had high hopes for you. We spent eighteen years living in this dump just to mold you, and this is the garbage results you hand us? I suggest you stop throwing a tantrum. At the end of the day, you are still a Vance.” His words carried a veiled threat, but also a twisted sense of pride that I should be grateful to carry his last name. I held out my hands and spread them open in front of them. My hands were rough, covered in thick calluses from years of cooking, cleaning, and lifting heavy boxes. Then I looked at Chloe’s hands, soft, perfectly manicured, with elegant gel nails that caught the light. For the first time, I felt the sheer, sickening absurdity of it all. “So, because of this, you’re writing off my entire existence?” “We aren’t writing you off. We are evaluating you,” Arthur corrected coldly, devoid of any human warmth. “According to the rules of the trial, you, Luna Vance, as the failing subject, are stripped of all inheritance rights to Vance Enterprises.” He paused, as if handing down a generous gift. “Of course, we won’t abandon you completely. We will pay for you to go to a decent state college and start over. Consider this our final mercy.” Mercy. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. A bitter laugh escaped my lips, mixed with tears. Seeing me like this, Chloe took a half-step back and grabbed Arthur’s arm, looking at me like I was a lunatic. “Dad, let’s not waste our time. I don’t want to look at her. She’s clearly lost her mind.” Arthur just patted her head. When he looked at me, his eyes were dead and empty. At that moment, I let go of my last illusion. I wiped my tears and smiled. 3 My smile caught them off guard. They probably expected me to scream, cry, beg on my knees, or throw a tantrum. They never expected me to just stand there and smile quietly. “I’m not going to that college,” I said, looking straight at Arthur. “And I don’t want your mercy. I’ll stay here and live my own life.” Arthur looked at me like I was an insect telling a joke. “On your own? Luna, what can you do besides trivial house chores? The debit card I gave you has already been frozen by my assistant.” Right on cue, my phone buzzed with a text message from Chase Bank. Your account has been frozen. Your current available balance is $0.00. Every single penny in that account was money I had earned working night shifts. “Is this another punishment for my rebellion?” I laughed coldly. “No. This is to help you face reality,” Arthur said. He snapped his fingers. A large moving truck pulled up downstairs, and a team of men in black uniforms marched up the stairs. They walked into the apartment without a word, completely ignoring me, and began packing up everything in the home I had lived in for eighteen years. My secondhand textbooks were thrown into a massive recycling bin. The little crafts I made out of soda cans were crushed instantly. The tiny succulent on the windowsill, the one I had nurtured for three years, was ripped out of its pot and tossed into a black trash bag. “What are you doing?!” I tried to push past them to stop them. But a guard blocked me, his voice icy. “Miss Vance, all items in this residence are technically property of Vance Enterprises. The company has the right to reclaim and dispose of them.” My entire existence, every trace of my life, was just “company assets.” Then I saw the picture frame in the corner. It was our only family photo. I lunged forward and hugged it tightly. “You can’t take this!” One of the movers tried to pry it from my hands. During the struggle, the frame slipped, hitting the floor with a loud shatter. The glass broke into pieces. Chloe walked over elegantly, bending down to pick up the photo. She looked at it for a second, then let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, it’s just a cheap photo. Luna, you didn’t actually think keeping this would change anything, did you?” Right in front of my face, Chloe tore the photo in half. At that exact moment, all the fight left my body. Even the memory of the “father” who used to smile warmly at me was ripped away. While I was standing there, completely numb, my phone rang. It was my only best friend, Harper. “Luna, you know everything now?” Her voice sounded incredibly tense. “Luna, don’t be stupid. Just do what your parents say. They’re doing this for your own good. Stop being so stubborn. You can’t beat them.” Before I could even respond, she hung up. In a flash, it all clicked. My best friend, my confidante, was just another observer paid to watch me. I put my phone away. I felt like the entire world had turned its back on me. Victoria walked over and slid a thick envelope into my hands. “There’s $5,000 in cash here. Think of it as your severance pay. Spend it wisely.” She spoke as if she were letting go of a maid who had worked for her for too long. “Also, just so you know, this entire block has been bought out by Vance Enterprises. The demolition crew starts tomorrow morning. This dump no longer has any reason to exist.” She turned and walked out, never looking back. I was completely, utterly cast out of my family. Eighteen years of my life, erased in a single afternoon. 4 I stood in front of the building that was scheduled to be demolished the next day. I couldn’t move. The envelope containing the $5,000 “severance” was crumpled in my hand. Arthur, Victoria, and Chloe were walking toward their waiting Maybach. A sudden surge of adrenaline washed over me. I ran forward and blocked the car door. “Arthur Vance!” It was the first time I had ever called him by his name. “I want to ask you one last question. Over the past eighteen years, did you ever feel a single shred of real affection for me?” I stared into his eyes, desperately searching for any trace of humanity. I pointed to my right calf, where a ugly, jagged scar was hidden under my jeans. I never wore shorts because of it. “Ten years ago, I was eight. I ran into the street to save a stray dog from getting hit by a car, and my leg was crushed. I remember it so clearly. You carried me through the hospital hallways, screaming for a doctor. You held me and said, ‘Luna is Daddy’s brave girl.’ I was in so much pain I was about to pass out, but hearing you say that made it all worth it.” My tears finally spilled over, and my voice cracked. “Was that pain… was that love… was that all fake too?!” That was the warmest memory of my childhood. It was the moment I learned what “responsibility” meant. It was the foundation of who I was. If even that was a lie, then I truly had nothing left. Arthur remained silent. The air inside the car seemed to freeze. For a second, I thought I had actually touched his heart. But then, he turned to his assistant and spoke in a monotone voice. “Give her the file.” The assistant opened his leather briefcase and handed me a document. The title printed on the cover destroyed my very last hope: Empathy & Responsibility Cultivation Protocol. Arthur’s voice was disturbingly calm as he explained. “You’re right. That accident was meticulously planned. The driver, the stray dog, even the bystander who screamed at you to save it, they were all professional actors hired by my team.” I flipped through the pages, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold them. The permanent scar on my leg was recorded in the file as: Unintended physical trauma due to subject’s subpar physical agility during test. The papers slipped through my fingers and scattered all over the dirty pavement. Arthur rolled down his tinted window, looking down at me with absolute arrogance. “Luna, you need to understand. Every ounce of pain we put you through was designed to make you stronger. You simply failed to grasp our vision and chose to rebel instead.” “We are telling you the truth now so you realize you aren’t completely useless. Every good quality you think you have, your resilience, your empathy, they were all programmed by us.” With that, the car sped away, leaving me behind. I was left entirely alone in front of the crumbling building as the sun began to set. I slowly sank down onto the curb. My trembling fingers traced the ugly scar on my calf, over and over again. My entire world had collapsed into ashes. But in those ashes, I knew I had to find a way to be reborn.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462007”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My roommate loved wearing a masquerade mask and doing provocative live streams from our dorm room. She intentionally wore my clothes and even copied my exact style. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Until one day, I was dragged into the street, stripped naked, and screamed at in public for being a homewrecker. Right after that, a man she had scammed out of his entire life savings lunged at me and stabbed me eleven times. As I lay dying, he spat through gritted teeth. “You took every penny I had, and I didn’t even get to see your real face. You deserve to die.” In that agonizing moment, I finally realized Haley had used me as her scapegoat. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she asked to borrow my clothes. “Summer, can I borrow your dress? I don’t have anything cute to wear for my stream tonight.” After a blinding flash of crimson, my vision cleared. I was standing right inside my college dorm room. In that instant, I realized I had been reborn. “Summer! Did you hear me? Let me borrow your dress! I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done streaming!” In my past life, Haley constantly wore my clothes to do provocative dance streams. When she first started, she claimed she just wanted to earn some extra money for tuition and rent. She didn’t have any nice clothes, so she begged me for mine. Feeling sorry for her struggling financial situation, I gladly agreed every single time. Little did I know, this was just her way of shifting the risk onto me. And I, like an idiot, became her ultimate sacrificial lamb. Seeing my lack of response, Haley snapped. “Summer! Are you deaf?” All my built-up rage exploded at that moment. “Get lost!” Haley flinched, clearly shocked by my harsh tone. “Summer, why are you being so mean?” Our other roommate, Chloe, immediately jumped to her defense. “Seriously, if you don’t want to lend it, just say so. No need to be a bitch about it!” Haley squeezed out some tears, looking incredibly victimized. “Summer, I know I’m poor and can’t afford nice dresses like yours.” “I only asked because I wanted to look pretty, get more viewers, and make some money to send back to my family.” “If you don’t want to help, you could have just said no. You didn’t have to scream at me.” I stood up, staring her dead in the eye. “You want to borrow my dress? Fine. Take off that mask and show your actual face on camera.” “You wear my clothes, hide your face, and yet you leaked our university name and journalism major to your viewers.” “Your username is literally my name, Summer. What exactly are you trying to imply to your followers?” “You made us promise not to tell anyone you stream, but now everyone on campus is whispering behind my back, thinking I’m the one posting thirst traps!” “Have you defended me even once? You get all the cash gifts, and I get all the slut-shaming!” “And can you wear my clothes properly for once? You always pull down the straps and unbutton the chest! What, is it physically painful for you not to show cleavage?” I glared at the fake beauty mark on her chest. “To make everyone believe you’re me, you even drew a fake beauty mark on your chest, exactly where mine is.” “Haley, do you really think you can hide behind that mask forever?” My sudden outburst left Haley speechless. She burst into actual tears. Chloe frowned, crossing her arms. “Summer, back off. Haley is just trying to make a living. Cut her some slack.” “Her struggles aren’t my fault, but the rumors ruining my life are definitely hers. And Chloe, do you know what kind of people die first in horror movies?” “Who?” “People like you! The ones who always try to play the savior.” “Why!” Fuming, Chloe dragged Haley away. “Who does she think she is? Just because her family has a little money!” I didn’t bother arguing. Chloe was close to Haley and had always helped her cover up the streaming. Haley and I had very similar body types. If she wore a mask and my clothes, anyone who didn’t know us well would easily mistake her for me. In my past life, she exploited this. She wore my clothes and acted incredibly flirtatious on camera. She called her viewers “babe” and promised she would go on a date with whoever sent her the biggest gifts. She even took her chats with them off the app. I didn’t know the details of what they talked about. But during that time, she started spending money like crazy and constantly received luxury designer gifts. I figured she was taking massive amounts of cash from these guys, promising them a real relationship and meet-ups. Then, one day, she suddenly handed me her designer bag and told me to go to a specific location, claiming she had set up a birthday surprise for me.

Since my birthday was right around the corner, I stupidly believed her. I took the bag and headed over without a second thought. But as soon as I arrived, a group of people ambushed me. Leading them was a wealthy, high-society woman, Amber Vance. She screamed at the top of her lungs. “You little slut. Sleeping with a married man at your age. Didn’t your parents raise you right?” Before I could react, her thugs pinned me down and started tearing at my clothes. I shrieked in panic. “I’m not a homewrecker! You have the wrong person!” Amber ripped the designer bag out of my hands. “My husband bought this exact bag! Don’t play dumb with me!” In an instant, the cold truth hit me. Haley had set me up. “This bag belongs to my roommate! She’s the one who sent me here! She’s a streamer, her username is Summer!” Amber let out a mocking laugh. “Wow, you’re a good liar. Strip her! Let’s see how tough she is when she’s naked!” “I’m really not Summer! She framed me!” No matter how hard I cried, no one believed me. “This is illegal! I’ll call the cops!” Amber clapped her hands, addressing the gathering crowd. “Everyone, look at this shameless homewrecker! She seduced my husband, begged him to divorce me, and even made him buy her a luxury condo!” “She’s a college student, but she spends her nights doing suggestive streams to lure in married men. Absolutely disgusting!” Completely helpless, I pleaded with the bystanders. “Please help me! I’m innocent! I’m not the girl she’s looking for, that’s my roommate!” My shirt was ripped open, exposing the beauty mark on my chest. When Amber saw the mark, her eyes flared with pure rage. “You lying bitch! Let’s see you deny it now!” She pulled up one of Haley’s streaming videos on her phone. “Look at this, everyone! She might be wearing a mask, but that beauty mark is identical!” She paraded the screen in front of the crowd. “See? It’s her, right? I didn’t get the wrong girl!” Because Haley had copied my hair, wore my clothes, and even drawn on my exact beauty mark, the evidence was damning. They stripped me completely. They yanked my hair, slapped me, and spat on me. Passersby whipped out their phones, filming my humiliation while whispering insults. In that moment, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. After they finished humiliating me, they left. I hurriedly put on my torn clothes, but before I could take a few steps, a man blocked my path. “You’re Summer. I finally get to see your face.” “I…” Before I could utter another word, a sharp blade plunged deep into my abdomen. “I spent every single cent of my hard-earned money gifting you! You promised to go out with me but stood me up! I even sold my house just to keep sending you gifts!” “You promised to be my girlfriend! Why did you lie to me?!” The man roared in agony, stabbing me repeatedly. Just before my vision faded to black, I heard him snarl. “You scammed me out of my life savings, and I didn’t even get to see your face! You deserve to burn in hell!” With my final breath, I choked out. “I’m… not… Summer…” This time, I will rip off Haley’s fake mask and make sure she pays for everything. That very afternoon, I went to a clinic to have my beauty mark permanently removed. Then, I headed to a salon and dyed my hair a fiery, vibrant red. When I returned to the dorm, Haley saw my new red hair and immediately lost her mind. “Summer! Why didn’t you tell me you were dyeing your hair?!”

I looked in the mirror, admiring my gorgeous, voluminous red waves. It was absolutely stunning. “Why should I have to tell you?” “Because we’re best friends! You’re supposed to tell me so we can match!” “I hate looking like twins with people. Especially with you.” Haley stomped her foot in frustration. “Summer, you’re targeting me on purpose!” I mimicked her exact pose and stomped back. “Haley, you’re guilt-tripping me on purpose!” Haley was about to burst with anger. Her scheduled stream was starting soon, so there was no way she had time to go dye her hair to match mine. “Next time you change your hair, you have to let me know in advance!” I rolled my eyes at her. “Says who?” Haley couldn’t find a comeback. Fuming, she stomped off. A few minutes later, she grabbed her ring light and tripod and went out to the balcony to start her stream. I logged into a burner account on TikTok to watch her. To my surprise, Haley had used a live filter to turn her hair red. On screen, she was sporting virtual fiery red waves, her face covered by a vintage silver masquerade mask. She swayed her hips provocatively, cooing in a sweet, sultry voice, “Hey boys, if you like what you see, send me a sports car gift! The top donor tonight gets access to my private Snapchat!” The male viewers in the chat were completely mesmerized. Flattering comments flooded the screen. “Oh my god, Summer looks even hotter with red hair!” “Damn, what a body. I’d love to get a taste of that.” “So sexy, especially that beauty mark on her chest. Drives me crazy!” Haley danced even harder, teasing, “Boys, the app just launched some new gifts. I really want to see how pretty the special effects look.” With her encouragement, the viewers started showering her with virtual gifts. Expensive, colorful animations flashed across her screen one after another. Haley was practically glowing with excitement, reading out the usernames of her top gifters and thanking them sweetly. I knew that somewhere in that chat, the man who stabbed me in my past life and Amber’s cheating husband were watching. I was usually a bit introverted, but to clear my name and distance myself from Haley, I had to put myself out there. So, I sent a request from my burner account to join her live stream. Haley declined it, so I kept spamming the request. “Ugh, someone keeps spamming join requests. Hang on, boys, let me block them real quick.” Someone in the chat commented. “Just accept it! Do a PK battle, and I’ll send you a TikTok Universe gift!” The mention of a high-value Universe gift instantly made Haley’s eyes light up with greed. “Well, since Lucas wants to see it, I guess I can accept the request.” That “Lucas” was actually my friend. I had texted him to post that comment. Haley clicked accept. But the moment my bare, unmasked face appeared on the split-screen, she completely lost her composure. “What are you doing?!” she hissed. The chat erupted. “Wait, do you guys know each other?” “By the look on her face, absolutely.” I waved to the camera. “Hey everyone! Hi, ‘Summer’!” Furious, Haley abruptly ended her stream, stormed back into the room, and snatched my phone to end mine too. “Summer, what the hell is your problem? Who told you to join my live? Why did you show your face?!” “If you didn’t want to stream with me, you could have just said no. You clicked accept. I didn’t hold a knife to your throat. Besides, why do you care if I show my face? What are you so afraid of?” “You don’t understand anything! You’re ruining everything for me!” I sneered. “Just by showing my face, I’m ruining your life? Wow, you must have a very fragile life then.” Behind her silver mask, I couldn’t see Haley’s face. But I knew she was absolutely seething with rage.

Haley’s face darkened. “Fine. If you want to stream, you can. But you are never to request to join my stream again, and you can’t stream at the same time as me!” “Deal,” I replied smoothly. I agreed easily because my next move was going to be even bigger. Relieved by my quick agreement, Haley went back to the balcony to restart her stream. While she was dancing provocatively, I put on my headphones and walked right into the background of her frame. Her comment section blew up instantly. “Summer, who is that hot girl behind you?” “Isn’t that the girl from the PK battle earlier?!” “Damn, your roommate is gorgeous! And you two have almost the exact same body shape. If your roommate is this pretty, you must be a total ten under that mask!” Haley was in the middle of a dance move when she noticed the comments. She whirled around and saw me standing there. Her face turned completely pale with anger. She cut the feed immediately. “Summer!” she screamed. I pulled off my headphones and blinked innocently. “Oh, sorry, Haley. I didn’t mean to crash your stream. I was blasting my music and didn’t hear your dance track. You shut off your stream earlier, so I assumed you were done for the night.” Haley’s face turned a deep, angry shade of purple. She glared at me, looking like she wanted to strangle me on the spot. “Look, Haley. This is a shared college dorm. We don’t mind you using the balcony to stream, but you can’t completely ban us from going out there. I didn’t mean to walk into your shot, and I already apologized. Why are you so dramatic? You do your dance, and I do my thing. It’s not that deep.” With that, I turned around and walked back inside, leaving Haley to scream in frustration on the balcony. The next day after class, I saw a man standing near the campus gates. Every single hair on my body stood on end. It was him, the man who stabbed me eleven times and murdered me in my past life. He had actually tracked her down to our university! Thank god I had made that appearance on Haley’s stream yesterday, or I’d be in serious danger right now. The man grabbed a passing student. “Hey, do you know a girl named Summer?” “Summer? The masked TikTok streamer?” “Yes, her!” “Oh, we all used to think she was Summer Pierce, but yesterday the real Summer appeared on her stream. So she’s probably one of Summer’s friends or roommates.” “Who is Summer Pierce? Can you help me get in touch with her?” Just as the student turned around, he spotted me. “Hey, there she is! Summer!” I walked straight up to them. “Can I help you?” The student pointed at me. “Yeah, that’s her.” The man lunged forward eagerly. “Do you know Summer, the streamer?” “Who are you to her?” I asked calmly. “I’m her boyfriend. I can’t reach her on Snapchat anymore. Can you please tell her to come out and meet me?” “Sure. I’ll let her know when I get back to the dorm. If she refuses to come down, though, there’s nothing I can do.” The man fidgeted nervously. “Can I… get your number, just in case?” “Sorry, but I don’t give my number to my friends’ boyfriends. Don’t worry, I’ll pass the message along. Whether she wants to see you is up to her.” “Alright. Thank you so much.” He seemed pretty polite during this exchange. Who would have guessed that this seemingly ordinary, mild-mannered man would become a cold-blooded killer in the streets? When I got back to the dorm, Haley was lounging on her bed, eating snacks and watching a show. “Your boyfriend is waiting for you at the campus gates,” I said. “He said he can’t get ahold of you and wants you to go down.” Haley froze. “What’s his name?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462006”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Five years of marriage to my germaphobe billionaire husband, Ethan Shaw. And today, I found a suspicious, murky stain on the passenger seat of his sports car. Just as I was about to confront Ethan, his secretary, Chloe Reed, walked up. Tugging at her tight, micro-mini skirt, she flashed a sweet, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Shaw. I have a habit of going commando, and I think I might have ruined Mr. Shaw’s beautiful leather seats. My bad.” Ethan merely nodded, completely unfazed. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” That night, I gave Ethan a cold warning. “I don’t share dirty men. If anything like this happens again, we are getting a divorce.” The very next day, he fired Chloe. I thought that was the end of it, until the day my mother passed away. That afternoon, I received a Snapchat video from Chloe. Through a foggy glass window, I could clearly make out two tangled silhouettes. And then came Ethan’s heavy, lust-filled voice over the speaker: “Stop playing around…” My eyes welled with tears. Before I could save the video, she deleted it. A sharp pain pierced my chest. Without hesitation, I texted my divorce lawyer: “Draft the divorce papers immediately. I want them ready now.”

On the day of the funeral, Ethan arrived late. He looked as elegant and high-society as ever, but as he stepped closer, I caught the scent of sweet, cheap perfume clinging to his designer suit. I looked down. Right on his collar, partially hidden, was a dark red hickey. The last ounce of warmth in my heart died right there, washed away by the freezing rain. He walked up to me, but before he could say a word, a figure burst into the chapel. It was Chloe, Ethan’s ex-secretary. She was wearing a loud, skin-tight red dress that hugged her hips, with a carefully painted look of grief on her face. She walked straight toward Ethan. “Summer, please accept my condolences,” she said softly. Suddenly, her heel twisted. With a sharp gasp, she lost her balance and fell directly into Ethan’s arms. Ethan didn’t push her away. Instead, his hands instinctively gripped her waist. In the chaotic stumble, Chloe lifted her face just as Ethan leaned down. Their lips met. Softly, easily. Ethan frowned slightly, holding her steady. His voice was low, gentle, and filled with a helpless indulgence I had never heard before. “Careful.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. My mind instantly flashed back to that provocative video. He had used that exact same indulgent, breathless tone when he whispered: “Stop playing around…” It made me think of our wedding night. I had put on a beautiful silk nightgown, gathered all my courage, and gently kissed his lips. It was just a light, fleeting touch. But he had shoved me away so violently that I hit the nightstand. He rushed into the bathroom, and I heard him dry-heaving inside. After that, he spent a full thirty minutes brushing his teeth, almost self-harming, until his gums bled heavily. When he finally walked out, his face was pale and his eyes were dead cold. “Summer, I told you. Do not touch me.” … The whispers of the guests rushed over me like a tide. The looks they threw at me were filled with curiosity, pity, and a sick sense of amusement. My father, Arthur Vance, turned absolutely livid. Clenching his fists, he muttered under his breath, “Is this how the Shaw family shows respect to the deceased? What a disgrace.” Grandpa Charles Shaw banged his cane heavily against the marble floor. “Enough! What kind of circus is this? Do you have no shame, Ethan?” Ethan’s face turned pale. He finally let go of Chloe, but he still kept her shielded behind his back. He lowered his head to Grandpa Charles. “I’m sorry, Grandpa. Chloe didn’t mean to.” *She didn’t mean to.* Such a light, effortless excuse. With those words, he dragged my dignity, my dead mother’s memory, and the entire Vance family name through the mud. I spoke, my voice so calm that it sounded foreign even to me. “Ethan. Take her and get the hell out of here.” He stared at me, a flash of panic and guilt crossing his eyes. He quickly stepped closer and whispered, “Summer, don’t throw a tantrum at a time like this, okay? Chloe just tripped…” He was still defending her. I looked him dead in the eye, repeating his words. “A tantrum?” “You are openly defending another woman at your wife’s mother’s funeral, and you think *I’m* the one throwing a tantrum?” His lips parted, but the words that came out broke my heart completely. “I owe her, Summer,” he pleaded quietly. “Please, don’t make this look any uglier than it already is.” Behind him, Chloe peeked out, her eyes wet with fake tears but sparkling with triumph. At that moment, I actually laughed. Why should I care about making a scene? No matter how hysterical I acted, nothing could hurt more than the knife he had just plunged into my chest. “I said get out. Are you deaf?” Ethan closed his eyes in pain. Ultimately, he turned around, took Chloe by the arm, and escorted her out of the chapel. As Chloe passed me, she shot me a smug, victorious look. And Ethan didn’t even dare to look at me again. The funeral finally ended. I forced myself to say goodbye to the remaining guests before walking alone into my mother’s old bedroom. The room still smelled of her. I stared at the photo of her gentle, smiling face on the vanity. And just like that, the tightly wound string inside me snapped. A wave of overwhelming grief and the crushing humiliation of betrayal washed over me. I covered my mouth to muffle my sobs, but my knees gave out, and I slid down to the cold floor. My mother’s face in the photo blurred. Eventually, everything went dark.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. I tried to move my hand and felt the cold prick of an IV line. The door opened, and a tall man in a white lab coat walked in. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and had a gentle, comforting presence. It was Luke Montgomery. I had only met him once at a charity gala. He was the heir to the prestigious Montgomery family, but he had chosen a quiet life as a humanitarian doctor. “You’re awake?” He handed me my chart. “Summer, you are six weeks pregnant. But due to extreme emotional distress and exhaustion, you are showing signs of a threatened miscarriage.” “If you want to keep this baby, you need absolute bed rest.” My heart sank. My hand instinctively flew to my flat stomach. This baby—the one I had prayed for, the one I had gone through so much pain to conceive—was now nothing but a cruel joke. My father stood by the bedside, his brow furrowed in anger. He and my mother had lived separate lives for years, and he had his own mistresses and secret kids. His fury right now wasn’t out of love for me; it was because Ethan’s public stunt had embarrassed him. “That absolute bastard! Just wait till he gets here. I’m going to ruin him!” But within minutes, my father’s phone rang. He took the call and left immediately. In the end, I was still completely alone. By evening, Ethan showed up. He was carrying a thermal flask, his expression tense. Seeing me awake, he let out a sigh of relief and rushed to my side. “Summer, how are you feeling?” I didn’t look at him. He began to ramble, trying to justify himself. “About yesterday at the funeral… I’m sorry. But Chloe has no one in this city. She’s completely helpless, and I couldn’t just leave her. I need you to understand that.” I slowly turned my head and stared at him. The man before me felt like a complete stranger. “Did you ever try to understand me?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Ethan, do you remember what I did to make you comfortable with me? I soaked my hands in harsh disinfectant, washing them over and over until my skin cracked and bled.” “It took me five whole years of patience just to get you to willingly hold me.” “But Chloe? She gets to stain your car. She gets to be cradled in your arms at my mother’s funeral.” “Tell me, Ethan. Why?” My voice was shaking, every word dripping with raw pain. His face turned completely pale, and he couldn’t find a single word to say. Silence was the most brutal answer. It told me, loud and clear, that my five years of devotion were nothing but a massive joke. Ethan couldn’t look me in the eye. Seeing how agitated I was, he tried to do what he always did—throw money at the problem. “Summer, to make it up to you, I’ll set up an art foundation in your mother’s name.” “The Shaw Group will fully fund it. Think of it as a tribute to her.” He was always like this. Measuring everything with money. My feelings. His guilt. And now, even my mother’s dignity. “Get out,” I spat. He froze, shocked by my tone. He had never been spoken to like this before. I grabbed the pillow behind me and threw it at his face with all the strength I had left. “I said, get the hell out of my sight!” Late that night, a friend sent me a screenshot of an Instagram Story. In a cozy dessert shop, Chloe was leaning sweet-tempered against Ethan’s shoulder. She was holding a spoon of half-eaten ice cream up to his lips. Ethan’s head was turned toward his phone, but he didn’t push her away. The caption read: *He still only eats what I feed him.* This was the same man who would vomit if I offered him a bite of my cookie. The same man who insisted on sanitizing our shared silverware dozens of times before touching it. Yet, he was perfectly fine eating ice cream Chloe had already put in her mouth. My stomach churned violently. I scrambled out of bed, rushed to the bathroom, and threw up until nothing was left. Staring at my pale, hollow reflection in the mirror, I felt a deep, sickening disgust. I wasn’t just disgusted by him. I was disgusted by myself for having crawled in the dirt for him for five long years.

After getting discharged, I went alone to the gallery where we first met. Five years ago, I held my first solo art exhibition here. The gallery had been packed that day, but Ethan had stood in front of a painting called *The Caged Bird* for an entire afternoon. I thought I had found my soulmate. Standing in front of that same painting now, I realized how foolish I had been. He didn’t understand my art. He just saw his own reflection in it. And I was just a self-righteous savior who had willingly jumped into a tragedy of my own making. The next day, a lawyer from the Shaw Group delivered a thick stack of documents. It was a family trust fund for my and Ethan’s future children. “Mrs. Shaw, this is from the Elder Mr. Shaw and Mr. Ethan Shaw,” the lawyer explained. “If you have a child, they will automatically become the third-largest shareholder of the Shaw Group. This trust…” Grandpa Charles had always pushed us to have a baby to secure our business marriage and Ethan’s inheritance. I used to look forward to this, enduring endless medical treatments and humiliation just to conceive. Now, this document felt like a fresh slap in the face. I cut the lawyer off calmly. “No need. We won’t be needing this trust fund. Ever.” I wanted absolutely nothing to do with Ethan Shaw. Later that afternoon, I went to the equestrian club. Before I officially walked away from this marriage, I wanted to paint one last piece as a farewell to the baby in my womb. But I didn’t expect to run into those two again. Chloe was dressed in a tight, fiery-red riding outfit, looking radiant. Ethan stood by the fence, his eyes locked onto her. Suddenly, Chloe shrieked and fell off her horse. Ethan’s face went completely pale. Without a second thought, he bolted toward her. As Chloe whimpered in pain, Ethan completely forgot his germaphobia. He scooped up her dirt-covered body and rushed her toward the medical clinic. My paintbrush hovered in mid-air. The sun was warm, but I felt freezing cold. I remembered the time I had a sudden panic attack and collapsed in our living room. Ethan had stood a safe distance away, shouting for the housekeeper and the doctor, but he never once reached out to touch me. It turned out his germaphobia was selective. It wasn’t that he couldn’t touch anyone. He just didn’t want to touch me. My heart went completely numb. I guess when disappointment reaches its peak, all you feel is absolute exhaustion. That evening, my assistant called, her voice frantic. “Summer, there’s trouble! Ethan just beat up Victor Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Corp, because of Chloe!” My head throbbed. “What?” “Apparently, Chloe claimed Victor harassed her. Ethan barged right into their business dinner and beat Victor so badly he’s in the ER.” “Ethan was covered in cheap booze and blood, but he didn’t care at all. He went straight back to the office to call an emergency board meeting. Overnight, he managed to tank Sterling Corp’s stock…” I listened in silence. For Chloe, he could be reckless. He could fight. He could tolerate the dirt and blood he hated most. He could throw all his principles out the window. For Chloe, he could do anything. I quietly hung up and emailed the signed divorce papers to Ethan. Then, I drove back to my art studio. This time, I wouldn’t give him another chance to explain.

I went back to the penthouse studio to grab my medical records. The place was a wedding gift from Ethan, overlooking the river. But when I pushed the door open, the sight before me made my stomach turn. The studio was a total mess. The air was thick with the unmistakable, musky scent of sex. The painting I had spent days working on for my baby was ripped off the easel, thrown onto the floor, splattered with random paint, and covered in dirty footprints. Beside the easel lay a discarded lace bra and adult toys. My breathing stopped. Rage and disgust boiled in my chest, quickly replaced by an icy, hollow feeling. I let out a bitter laugh, knelt down, and began packing my paintbrushes and sketches into a box. Just as I taped the last box shut, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. Then came the sound of heavy breathing, giggling, and a woman’s suggestive whimpers. “Ethan… let’s do it right here…” Then, Ethan’s strained, familiar voice replied, “Stop…” I hid behind a large canvas, watching coldly. Chloe was wrapped around him like a snake, kissing him aggressively while her hands worked on his shirt buttons. Ethan’s breathing was shallow and fast. He made a weak, stiff attempt to push her away. But that resistance lasted only a few seconds before he gave in. A wave of nausea hit me, and I accidentally knocked over a jar of brushes. Ethan snapped his head toward the sound. When his eyes met mine, he panicked and violently pushed Chloe off him. “Summer! Let me explain!” he cried out, his voice cracking. “I’ve been looking for you ever since I got the divorce papers! There’s nothing going on between us, I swear!” He reached out to grab my arm, but froze when he saw the sheer disgust in my eyes. “I… I have this place cleaned every day. I don’t know how she got in…” “Summer, please don’t leave. Don’t look at me like that.” “Can we please just talk?” He was rambling, his eyes filled with genuine panic. But Chloe just laughed. She stepped forward and kicked my packed box of art supplies, sending my sketches and paint jars flying across the floor, ruining my clothes. She leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “Summer, what explanation do you want? Want him to admit he loves me more?” “A pathetic woman like you doesn’t deserve to have Ethan’s baby anyway.” “Honestly, I feel bad for your dead mother. She probably died just to get away from a depressing loser like you.” “Shut up!” My self-control snapped. I raised my hand and swung it hard toward her smug face. But before my hand could land, my wrist was grabbed in a brutal grip. It was Ethan. He pulled Chloe behind him and shoved me back. I saw it clearly. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were filled with a deep, ugly irritation I had never seen before. He looked like a completely different person from the man who had just begged me to stay. I stared at him in utter shock. Time seemed to slow down. The sheer disgust in his eyes was sharper than any of Chloe’s venomous words. It felt like my heart had been pierced, letting the very last drop of my warmth drain out. I stumbled backward, my lower back crashing hard against the heavy wooden easel. A sharp, blinding pain exploded in my abdomen. My vision went black, and I felt a warm, terrifying rush of liquid running down my legs, staining my dress red. *Bam!* The studio door was kicked open. Luke rushed in, looking frantic. He had probably come looking for me because I hadn’t answered his calls. The moment he saw the pool of bright red blood beneath me, he ran over and scooped me up into his arms. “Are you insane?!” Luke roared at Ethan, his eyes burning with fury. “Did you seriously not know she was pregnant?!” Ethan froze on the spot, his hands trembling violently. “Pregnant? No… how…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462005”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The first day I was forced into the escort ring, Chase Vance claimed me. The ruthless mafia boss, despite his terrifying fury, knelt before me. Looking up at my face, he growled, “Who dared make you cry? I’ll kill them!” I pointed at the pile of envelopes on the table. They were filled with explicit photos of him in bed with another girl. His eyes went cold. His men instantly stepped forward and swept them away. Chase leaned in, kissing my tear-stained lashes. “They’re photoshopped. Don’t dirty your eyes looking at them.” “When I find out who did this, I’ll blow their brains out!” The next day, I brought the girl from the photos right to him. I tossed a gun at his feet. “Shoot her.” He frowned, stepping in front of her to shield her. “She’s pregnant, Scarlett. Can we at least wait until the baby is born?” Vivian Blake stood timidly beside Chase, looking like a frightened rabbit. “Scarlett, I swear I didn’t send those photos to you. Please don’t misunderstand,” she whimpered. I didn’t even look at her. I just toyed with the handgun in my grip. “Chase, is there a single promise you’ve made that actually means anything?” “If you can’t pull the trigger, I don’t mind doing it for you.” The moment the words left my mouth, I flicked my wrist. The cold, black barrel pointed straight at Vivian’s forehead. Vivian gasped, tears streaming down her face as her body began to shake uncontrollably. Chase’s handsome brow furrowed. He smoothly stepped back, shielding Vivian behind him. “Scarlett, I told you. She’s pregnant.” “Don’t worry, no one can ever replace you. Once she gives birth, I’ll handle her myself.” Saying this, Chase’s voice softened. “Scarlett, trust me just this once, okay?” His voice was low and seductive, dripping with persuasion. Having loved me for five years, Chase knew exactly how to make me melt. Every time I got angry, that soft, questioning “okay?” was enough to make my defenses crumble completely. I looked up at them, catching Vivian staring at me with red, teary eyes from behind Chase. Chase’s protective stance made my heart sink further into the abyss. I let my wrist drop, slipping the gun away. “I won’t shoot. But I have one condition.” “Let me go, Chase.” When I said the first sentence, Chase visibly relaxed. But the second those last words left my lips, his brow furrowed again. “Scarlett, I’ve told you. You belong to me.” “In this life, and the next.” Vivian tugged gently on Chase’s sleeve, her voice trembling, making her look incredibly pathetic. “Scarlett, I swear I never wanted to come between you and Chase.” “I promise, as soon as the baby is born, I’ll leave. I won’t get in your way.” Chase let out a soft sigh. “Alright, Scarlett. This was my mistake. It won’t happen again.” “Get some rest. Once I get her settled, I’ll come right back to be with you.” Before I could answer, Chase walked out, leading Vivian away. The dozen bodyguards behind Chase followed him in a rush, leaving the massive living room suddenly cold and empty. I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders, walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and stared blankly at the moon. My moon was now shining its light on someone else. Since that was the case, it was time for me to seek the sun.

Chase didn’t come home that night. The day I threw those photos in his face, he had ordered his men to confiscate all of them. But what he didn’t know was that Vivian had already sent me digital copies on Snapchat. This little girl was far from the innocent creature Chase thought she was. All night, while Chase was away, I sat in front of my computer screen, staring at those photos. Even at the height of passion, Chase’s eyes in the pictures were filled with tender adoration. He looked like he was terrified of hurting the fragile girl beneath him. In the five years we had been together, I had never once seen that kind of tenderness on his face. In bed, Chase was always primal, wild, and possessive, as if he wanted to crush my bones. But the man on the screen, despite sharing Chase’s features, possessed a gentleness that was terrifyingly foreign to me. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a message. It was a picture of a necklace. The pendant was a bullet casing. “I only mentioned how unique it looked, and Chase gave it to me. He said it was just a cheap trinket, and I could have it if I liked it.” I froze. Just then, the front door opened. Chase was finally home. Before he could walk over, I quickly closed the files on my computer. Chase walked up behind me, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. “Why are you still awake? Were you waiting for me?” I locked my phone screen, my eyes dropping to his collarbone. Sure enough, his neck was bare. The necklace he never took off was gone. I subtly pulled back, creating some space between us. “Where’s your necklace? Why aren’t you wearing it?” Chase didn’t show a hint of guilt. He casually loosened his collar. “The chain broke. I sent it out to get replaced.” I fell silent, offering no reply. The bullet on that necklace was the very one that had almost pierced my heart five years ago. Back then, Chase wasn’t as powerful as he was now, but he was rising fast in the underworld, making him a target for many. During one ambush, the enemy sent their top assassin to end Chase’s life once and for all. The second both sides raised their guns, my chest tightened. Without thinking, I threw myself in front of Chase and took the bullet for him. In the end, Chase’s bullet found the mark right between the assassin’s eyes. But the assassin’s bullet had stopped a mere half-inch from my heart. When I woke up in the hospital, I saw Chase cry for the first time. “Scarlett, I swear to God, I will never betray you.” “Anyone who wants to hurt you will have to step over my dead body first.” He had the bullet extracted from my chest made into a necklace, wearing it close to his heart. For five years, he had never taken it off, not even to shower. I looked up at him, a cold thought taking root in my mind. “Chase, let’s get married.” Chase froze, clearly caught off guard. In our five years together, I had never once brought up marriage. He quickly recovered, patting my head with a chuckle. “Stop teasing. I’m going to take a shower.” With that, he turned and walked into the bathroom. It was only a test. And though he didn’t give me a direct answer, his avoidance was the loudest answer of all. Over the next few days, Chase stayed home most of the time. We both tacitly avoided mentioning her name. By the fourth day, I was restless. Taking advantage of Chase being out, I headed to the shooting range. I hadn’t held a gun in days, and my grip felt a bit rusty. I had barely fired a few rounds when a voice sounded right beside me. “You certainly have a lot of free time, Scarlett. Practicing at the range at a time like this?” “I heard you used to be the princess of the Black Wolves. How did you end up begging a man to keep you? It’s honestly pathetic.” I lowered my arm and turned to look at Vivian. Her face was smug, completely devoid of the timid innocence she had shown before. Her acting skills really were top-notch. I took off my safety goggles, studying the woman before me, and let out a cold laugh. “You heard him the other day. He’s the one refusing to let me leave.” “Who’s the desperate one here? Can’t you tell, Vivian?”

Vivian flinched for a second, then gritted her teeth, spitting out every word. “Once I give birth to his child, what makes you think you can still compete with me?” “The great mafia princess of the Black Wolves, reduced to a caged pet. Your dead father probably can’t even rest in peace…” I cut her off with a vicious slap across the face. The force sent Vivian stumbling back. When she looked up, her eyes burned with pure malice. Before she could utter a word, a furious roar shattered the air. “Scarlett! What the hell are you doing?!” The instant she heard that voice, Vivian’s expression morphed back into helpless fragility. “I’m sorry, Scarlett. I just wanted to explain. I didn’t want you and Chase to fight because of me.” “I’ve been an orphan my whole life. Chase only took pity on me. We’re really not what you think.” Chase stared darkly at Vivian’s red, swollen cheek. “Scarlett, she’s pregnant! How could you lay a hand on her?!” My answer was simply raising my gun. *BANG!* The bullet grazed Vivian’s arm with perfect precision. Instantly, blood began to gush from the wound. I lowered my arm, looking at the two of them with cold, dead eyes. “You saved her from my bullet last time. This is for that.” “Chase, put a leash on your dog. Next time, the bullet goes right between her eyes.” Chase scooped Vivian up into his arms, his eyes bloodshot with suppressed rage as he glared at me. After a long silence, he gritted out, “This was Vivian’s fault today. She shouldn’t have bothered you.” “Now you two are even.” Without another look, Chase turned and carried Vivian toward the exit. I didn’t know if he did it on purpose. As he stormed past, his shoulder slammed hard against mine. Caught completely off guard, the force knocked me off my feet. I crashed to the ground, my lower back slamming violently against the sharp edge of the shooting bench. A blinding, white-hot pain flared up from my spine, consuming my entire body. I could barely breathe. From behind me, a bodyguard gasped in horror. “Miss Sterling! You’re bleeding!” I looked down numbly. Crimson blood was spreading rapidly across the floor. The world blurred into a terrifying shade of red. My body gave out, and darkness swallowed me whole. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The nurse replacing my IV immediately called for the doctor. The doctor looked at me with deep sympathy. “You were seven weeks pregnant. Your body was already weak, and the impact from the fall… we couldn’t save the baby.” The doctor let out a soft sigh. “A lot of pregnant women were admitted today. There’s another pregnant patient right next door who was rushed in with injuries.” “Fortunately, her baby is perfectly fine.” “You young girls really need to take better care of yourselves.” The doctor mumbled a few more words before stepping out of the room. My hands shook as I gently touched my flat stomach. It felt like my heart had stopped beating. I had a baby inside me, and I hadn’t even known. Tears quietly slipped from the corners of my eyes, soaking into my hair. Under the heavy fog of the pain medication, I drifted back into a restless sleep. In the middle of the night, the sharp buzz of my phone woke me up. “Why don’t you come take a look at the room next door?” I pulled back the sheets and got out of bed. The atmosphere in the adjacent room was thick with lust. The woman’s moans were sickeningly sweet. “Ah, Chase… I’m still pregnant. What if you hurt the baby?” “And we’re in the hospital. What if someone hears us?” The man’s voice was deep, raspy, and thick with desire. “I’ll be gentle, baby. I’d never hurt our little one.” “I locked the door. No one’s going to hear.” As their heavy breathing reached a fever pitch, Vivian, pinned beneath Chase, shifted her gaze. Her eyes locked with mine through the narrow glass pane of the door. At that moment, everything became crystal clear. I lowered my eyes, turned around, and slumped onto a plastic chair in the hallway. The hallway was deserted in the dead of night. I sat there like a ghost, listening to the sounds of their betrayal as if punishing myself. I don’t know how much time passed before a nurse’s gentle voice broke the silence. “Miss Sterling, why are you crying so hard?” “Are you in pain?”

It was only then that I realized tears were streaming down my face. I was shaking so violently that even my fingertips trembled. I wiped my tears away aggressively and looked up at the nurse. “I’m fine. I’m going back to my room now.” Once the nurse walked away, I stood up. But I didn’t go back to my bed. Instead, I walked straight out of the hospital doors. Chase didn’t come home until three days later. Seeing me dressed in thin clothes, he naturally draped his jacket over my shoulders. “How is the staff taking care of you? Why are you dressed so lightly?” I didn’t answer him. I just stared straight into his eyes. “Where’s Vivian? Discharged?” Chase let out a heavy sigh, looking at me with weary resignation. “Scarlett, she’s young. Just let it go.” “I’ve warned her. She will never bother you again. Forgive her this once, okay?” Hearing that familiar “okay?” My heart didn’t even flutter. In fact, I wanted to laugh. I took a long drag of my cigarette, letting the smoke slowly billow from my lips. The haze filled the air, blurring Chase’s handsome face. “Chase, did you know? We had a baby.” A flash of pure ecstasy surged in his eyes. The next second, I crushed the glowing cherry of my cigarette into the ash tray. “But it died. Three days ago. You killed it when you shoved me.” Chase froze. His lips parted, but not a single sound came out. We had been together for five years. A man as sharp as him understood exactly what I meant. After a long, agonizing silence, Chase covered his face, his voice cracking. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” He lunged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “We’ll fix this, Scarlett. I swear to you, nothing like this will ever happen again. I swear.” I pushed his chest, coldness radiating from my voice. “Don’t bother, Chase. Just let me go.” The temperature in the living room plummeted instantly. The suffocating silence was shattered by his phone ringing. The room was so quiet that even without speakerphone, I could hear every word. “Chase, I know I shouldn’t call…” “But my stomach hurts so much. I’m so scared. Can you come be with me, please?” He didn’t even hang up before he was already on his feet. At the front door, Chase paused. “I told you, Scarlett. You are mine.” “In this life, and the next.” Without looking back, he slammed the door and left. Chase didn’t return for a week. But I couldn’t step a single foot out of the estate either. He had stationed maids, a private doctor, and dozens of guards around the clock. He made sure I was pampered with the best of everything, while stripping me of every ounce of freedom. There was no way out. On a mundane afternoon, an email and a text message popped up on my phone. “Check your inbox. There are things in there you definitely don’t know about.” “Oh, Scarlett. I almost feel sorry for you.” The sender was Vivian. Five years ago, my father was assassinated, and the Black Wolves vanished overnight. As the gang’s princess, I was kidnapped by our rivals and sold into the city’s seediest escort ring. Chase was the one who tracked me down and brought me home. Today, he was the undisputed king of the underworld. Though I lived in luxury, I had zero leverage to fight him. After reading through every file Vivian sent, I sat on the balcony, watching the guards patrol the yard. After a long pause, I dialed a black-market black-ops agency. “I’ll pay you twenty million dollars. Stage a fake death for me.” “Make it happen as fast as possible.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462004”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After being murdered by my husband and my best friend, my soul stood in line at the Registry of the Dead. “Rebirth and reincarnation. Which family do you choose?” The Grim Reaper flipped through his ledger, asking me with complete indifference. I looked up and pointed to the mirror of soul judgment, which showed the wretched couple. They were hugging each other, celebrating that they had finally gotten rid of me. I smiled. “Their family. I want to be the sweet fruit of their love.” The Grim Reaper froze for a moment, warning me, “Such heavy resentment. Be careful, it might ruin your luck in your next life.” “It’s fine,” I waved my hand carelessly. “In this life, I’m going back to be their little ‘blessing.’” The next second, I was enveloped in warm amniotic fluid, followed by a dizzying sensation of pressure. Accompanied by a loud, piercing cry. I, Vivian Sterling, was born into this world as Evelyn Carter, the daughter of my worst enemies. “Congratulations, Mr. Carter! It’s a healthy baby girl. Listen to those strong lungs!” The nurse wiped me clean and carefully carried me over to the woman in the hospital bed. Melanie Vance. My former best friend. Right now, her face was pale, but she practically glowed with a fake, saintly motherly light as she reached out her arms toward me. “My sweet baby, let Mommy hold you.” Her voice was so sweet it could make your teeth ache. Mommy? Are you even worthy of that word? The exact millisecond her fingertips brushed against my baby skin. Without any warning, I unleashed the most agonizing, hysterical scream of my life! “Waaahhh—!!!” My shriek was so sharp it shattered the warm, peaceful atmosphere of the delivery room. The nurses and the doctor all jumped in startle. Melanie was so terrified that her hands shook, almost dropping me on the floor. “What’s wrong? She was perfectly fine just a second ago.” The nurse quickly snatched me back. The moment I was out of Melanie’s arms, my crying instantly quieted down into soft whimpers. “Newborns just feel insecure sometimes,” the doctor explained casually, not thinking much of it. But Melanie’s face had already turned slightly pale. Once we returned to the Carter estate. As long as Melanie came within three steps of me, my internal alarm would go off. The moment she tried to hold me, I would instantly transform from a sweet, doll-like baby into a thrashing hedgehog. My tiny limbs flailed wildly, my sharp baby nails clawing mercilessly at any exposed skin on her face, neck, and arms. “Ouch!” Melanie gasped in pain. She looked down and saw three bright red scratches bleeding on her smooth arm. Taking advantage of the moment, I began to cry even louder, looking as if I were the one who had suffered some horrible abuse. “What is going on here!” Marcus Carter rushed in at the sound of the noise, only to witness this exact scene. Melanie had blood on her arm, while her daughter in her arms was screaming her lungs out, looking like she was being tortured. “I… I don’t know, she just suddenly started…” Melanie’s face was white. Marcus impatiently grabbed me from her arms. The moment I hit his chest, my crying stopped instantly. I let out two pathetic, innocent little hiccups. I buried my flush little face against his warm chest, found a comfortable spot, and fell fast asleep. The contrast between this angelic, quiet baby and the monster of a second ago was night and day. Marcus looked at the angel in his arms, then at the bloody scratches on his wife’s arm. His brows furrowed into a deep frown. From that day on, this became the daily routine in the Carter household. If Melanie held me, I scratched her and cried like the world was ending. If Marcus, Grandpa Arthur, Grandma Eleanor, or even the nanny held me, I was as sweet and quiet as a porcelain doll. Before I was even a month old, Melanie’s arms were covered in a patchwork of new and old scars. She had to wear thick layers of concealer just to hide the claw marks on her face. And the rumor that “the Carter family’s little heiress was born to hate her mother” began to spread quietly among the high society. That night, Melanie’s lip was scratched open by me once again. She finally snapped. “What do you want from me?!” She slammed the bedroom door, staring at me in my crib, screaming in a low, distorted, demonic voice. “Are you a devil?! Why do you only do this to me?!” I opened my large, clear, innocent eyes, staring at her in complete silence. Yes. I am the demon who came back to drag you to hell. Seeing that I wasn’t crying or making a sound, Melanie’s sanity crawled back slightly. She took a deep breath, trying to comfort herself: “You’re just a baby who doesn’t know anything… You don’t understand…” Her hand trembled as she reached toward me again, as if trying to prove something to herself. Right then, the door swung open. Marcus walked in carrying a warm glass of milk. What he saw was his wife’s twisted, angry face, and her hand reaching toward their daughter in a threatening gesture. “Melanie! What are you doing!” He bolted forward, shielding me tightly in his arms. The look he gave her was freezing cold, filled with utter disappointment. “I didn’t do anything! I just wanted to hold her!” Melanie pleaded in despair. Marcus held me close, gently patting my back. Then, without even looking at Melanie, he said coldly: “If you hate her so much, stay the hell away from her.” “From now on, Maria will take care of her.”

Ever since her maternal rights were practically stripped away, Melanie’s status in the household plummeted. She went from being the lady of the manor to an invisible, unwanted ghost who just happened to be a mother on paper. Marcus grew colder to her by the day, while Grandpa and Grandma ignored her existence entirely. Only during high-society family gatherings—where they needed to put on a show for the media—was she allowed to hold me, pretending we were a loving mother and daughter. Under everyone’s pampered love, I grew to be two years old. I began to speak some simple, broken words. Every single word was calculated with absolute precision. On Arthur’s 70th birthday gala, the Carter mansion was packed with elite guests and media. I wore a custom-made red designer dress, looking like a perfect little angel. Grandpa held me proudly in his arms, soaking in everyone’s compliments. Melanie stood to the side in an expensive gown, her heavy makeup masking her pale face, forcing a stiff smile. I knew what she was waiting for. She was waiting for a chance to display her motherly love in public to salvage her reputation. Sure enough, when it was time to cut the cake, she picked up a small plate with a slice of vanilla cake. She walked toward me with elegant, graceful steps, her voice dripping with sweetness: “Evelyn, my sweet baby. Come to Mommy, let Mommy feed you some cake.” She had betted on the fact that I wouldn’t dare make a scene in front of so many distinguished guests. Too bad for her, she guessed wrong. I had waited for this day for far too long. I immediately squirmed out of Grandpa’s arms, sliding down to the floor. I backed away frantically, looking at her as if she were a pile of toxic waste. My little face was filled with pure terror and resistance. “No… No…” I whimpered in a shaky baby voice. Melanie’s smile froze. The surrounding relatives and guests all turned their eyes over, eager for some drama. “Evelyn, be good. Mommy won’t hurt you…” She panicked, taking another step forward, trying to grab my hand. Now! I snapped my hand up, using every ounce of my toddler strength to point directly at her face—which was now slightly distorted with fear. Then, I channeled all the hatred and murderous rage from my past life, condensing it into the most vicious curse. Through the mouth of a two-year-old child, word by word, I screamed at the top of my lungs: “Bad—woman!” “Killer… Killer!” The entire ballroom fell into a dead, horrified silence. Everyone stared at me, then at Melanie, whose face had turned as white as a sheet. “Killer?” “What did she just say? Did I hear that right?” “Oh my god, is this child… possessed?” Whispers rushed through the crowd like a tidal wave. Grandpa and Grandma were the first to react. Grandma snatched me into her arms, frantically rubbing my back to comfort me. “Don’t be scared, Evelyn. Did you have a nightmare yesterday? Don’t say such silly things!” Meanwhile, all the color drained from Marcus’s face. Melanie completely lost her mind. “I didn’t! It wasn’t me!” she shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at me, her voice wild and hysterical. “It’s her! This little brat is lying! She’s not normal! She’s a demon!” A mother, calling her own two-year-old daughter a “brat” and a “demon” in front of the city’s entire high society. “Shut the hell up!” Marcus stormed over and slapped her hard across the face. “Are you insane?! How dare you say that to a two-year-old!” I buried my face in Grandpa’s shoulder. Watching the two murderers turn on each other brought a thrilling rush of pure ecstasy to my soul.

The disaster at the birthday gala was the final straw that broke Melanie. “Madwoman,” “bitter wife,” “the mother cursed by her own daughter.” These labels stuck to her like hot tar. She couldn’t even hold her head up in the Carter house anymore. Marcus avoided her like she was the plague. He seemed to actually believe the rumor that I was some vengeful spirit. Every day after work, he locked himself in his study. He’d rather stare at the wall than look at his “true love.” Completely isolated, Melanie’s mental state deteriorated rapidly. She didn’t dare approach me anymore, but every time she looked at me, her eyes were filled with venomous hatred. She started playing passive-aggressive mind games with me. She would purposely knock over my milk, make loud, jarring noises while I was sleeping, and even pinch my arms hard when no one was looking. I endured all of it in silence. Because I knew she was just throwing a desperate tantrum. And I was waiting for the perfect opportunity to send her straight to hell. That opportunity came in the form of a crystal music box hidden deep inside her jewelry vanity. It was the anniversary gift Marcus had given her right after she found out she was pregnant with me. I quietly slipped into her bedroom. I dragged a vanity stool over, climbed up onto the dressing table, and pulled out the sparkling crystal music box. Without a second of hesitation, I raised it high above my head and slammed it down onto the marble floor! *Smash!* With a loud shatter, the music box exploded into a million sharp glass shards. But that wasn’t enough. I closed my eyes, letting the memories of my brutal death in my past life flood my mind. Then, I picked up the sharpest piece of glass and sliced it hard across my own pale arm. “Ugh…” A sharp, burning pain flared up, and bright red blood instantly gushed out. The sheer pain made me dizzy, but I stood firm. I dripped a few drops of blood onto the dress of my favorite teddy bear, then held it tightly, running out of the room with my body covered in “evidence.” “Grandpa! Grandma!” My tearful, terrified screams echoed through the hallways, bringing everyone running in panic. They saw me standing there, my clothes messed up, my body shaking violently, clutching a blood-stained teddy bear. On my other arm, a deep, nasty gash was pouring blood. “Oh my god! Evelyn!” Grandma let out a horrified shriek, sprinting toward me first. I dove straight into Grandma’s arms, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. Using my carefully practiced, broken vocabulary, I wove the perfect lie: “Mommy… bad…” “Mommy… don’t like… Evelyn…” I held up the blood-stained teddy bear, crying until I almost fainted: “Broke… broke toy… Toy is broken…” Finally, I held out my bleeding arm, whimpering softly: “Ow… hurts… bleeding…” Every single word felt like a physical blow to everyone’s heart. Melanie stood frozen at the doorway. She stared at the gash on my arm, then at her own empty hands. Her mind went completely blank. “No… it wasn’t me… I didn’t do it…” Her defense sounded pathetic and hollow in the face of all the blood. “You absolute monster!” Grandpa’s body shook with pure rage. He pointed a finger at her, his eyes practically spitting fire. “How dare you lay your filthy hands on Evelyn! The Carter family has no place for a sick, twisted woman like you!” Marcus was also completely terrified by the bloody scene. He looked at me, then at the frantic, screaming Melanie. The very last shred of affection he had for his wife was instantly replaced by terror and disgust. As they rushed me to the hospital, I rested my head on Grandpa’s shoulder. Over the shoulders of the panicked crowd, I looked back at Melanie, whose face was now dead and hollow. I silently mouthed two words to her. “Go. Die.” She understood. She stared at me, and finally let out a blood-curdling, non-human shriek of pure terror.

The wound on my arm required five stitches. I became the most precious, delicate treasure of the Carter family. Everywhere I went, people treated me like glass. Grandpa hired two private bodyguards to watch over me twenty-four hours a day. Their only job was to make sure Melanie never came within ten feet of me. Melanie, on the other hand, was placed under house arrest in her bedroom. I heard she went completely mad, smashing everything in her room, screaming that I was a demon, and that I had cut myself. But of course, nobody believed her. Who would believe the frantic ramblings of a child-abuser? But I knew this wasn’t enough. House arrest was just the beginning. I wanted her gone from this house, and from my life, permanently. One afternoon, I dismissed my bodyguards, telling them I wanted to play hide-and-seek by myself. Then, I quietly walked over to her bedroom door. It wasn’t locked. She was sitting on the carpet, staring at the shattered remains of the crystal music box, muttering to herself like a lunatic. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The moment she saw me, she flinched like a startled rabbit, scrambling back into the corner of the wall, her eyes filled with absolute terror. “What… what do you want?” I walked up to her, squatted down, and spoke in a cold, steady voice that did not belong to a child at all: “I’m here… to take back what’s mine.” Melanie’s pupils dilated instantly! I looked at her, slowly letting a familiar, chilling smile spread across my face—the exact smile of Vivian Sterling. “You stole my husband, you took my life… Now, I’m taking everything back, piece by piece.” “Aaahhh—!!!” The last thread of Melanie’s sanity snapped. She finally knew. She knew with absolute certainty that I wasn’t just a child. I was the vengeful ghost of Vivian Sterling, back from the grave! “Demon! I’ll kill you, you filthy demon!” She shrieked, lunging at me with savage, primal murderous intent. She grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the hallway, right toward the long, steep marble staircase of the second floor. I didn’t fight back. In fact, I helped her. I was calculating the time down to the exact second. I knew that in ten seconds, Grandpa would walk out of his study to head downstairs for his daily afternoon tea. “Die! You little monster!” Melanie was completely gone. She dragged me to the very edge of the stairs and raised her hand high to strike me! Now! I heard the faint click of the study door opening. The exact second Melanie’s hand swung toward me, I let out the loudest, most terrified scream of my life: “Mommy! Don’t push me—!!!” Then, I threw myself out of her grip. Without a shred of hesitation, I threw myself down the cold, hard marble stairs! The world spun violently! The agonizing pain of my bones smashing against the marble steps almost made me black out instantly. *Thud!* My body hit the first-floor floor like a broken ragdoll. My left arm was twisted at a horrific, unnatural angle. The pain hit me like a tsunami, but I forced myself to open my eyes. I looked up. Grandpa was standing at the top of the stairs, his face completely pale, his entire body shaking as he stared at this horrific scene. He saw Melanie’s hand still raised in the air. He heard my desperate cry of “Don’t push me.” And he saw me fall down the stairs. I looked into his eyes—which were filled with shock, fury, and immense pain. I reached out my uninjured right hand, trembling, pointing at the frozen woman at the top of the stairs. Tears and cold sweat mixed on my face. My voice was barely a whisper. “Grandpa… save me…” “Mommy… she… she wants to kill me…” The moment the words left my mouth, my head slumped to the side, and I “fainted.” Before losing consciousness, I heard Grandpa unleash a roar of pure, unadulterated rage that didn’t even sound human.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “462003”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My fated mate, Alpha Victor Smith, agreed to a “loyalty test” proposed by his childhood friend, Grace Miller. “Reject Lily and stay away from her for three years. If she still wants you after that, I’ll accept her as the pack’s rightful Luna.” I only found out later that there was no loyalty test. It was all a lie she made up. But he agreed anyway. He looked at me with absolute confidence. “I know Lily would never betray me. Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you in exactly three years!” Three years later, he knocked on my door. He opened his arms for a hug, wearing a confident smirk. “Lily, I kept my promise. I’m back to make you mine again.” I said nothing. What he didn’t know was that just a month after he rejected me, I found my second-chance mate. My thoughts snapped back to the present. He was still standing there, arms wide open. I stepped aside, putting a hand on his chest to push him back. My voice was flat. “Sorry, my Alpha doesn’t like other wolves’ scents on me.” Victor let out a confident chuckle. “Still mad?” “Come on, Lily. I’m here now, aren’t I?” “Be good. Stop acting like a child.” He used that same old patronizing tone, assuming I was just throwing a tantrum. He stepped forward to wrap his arms around me again. I took another step back, my expression hardening. “Alpha Victor, show some respect.” His hands froze in mid-air. The warmth in his eyes didn’t fade. “So you’re really furious this time?” “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything to make it up to you.” He still thought a few sweet words would fix everything, just like they used to. He took another step toward me. With every step he took, I took one back. The look in his eyes turned into one of pure desire—the urge to conquer. “Victor, it’s been three years. A lot changes in three years.” He nodded in agreement. “True.” I backed up until my spine hit the wall. I had nowhere else to go. He pinned me, placing one hand on the wall beside my head, while his other hand reached for my waist. When we were together, he loved trapping me like this, kissing me breathless under the moonlight. “So, did you give me a son? Or a daughter?” He asked, his hand gently tracing my cheek. The mention of the baby sent a sharp, agonizing pain straight through my heart. Three years ago, he knew I was carrying his pup. Yet, he still chose to reject me for Grace’s ridiculous test. He disappeared for three years without a single text or call. And now, he actually had the nerve to assume I had birthed his pup, waiting like a loyal dog for him to mark me again! A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I was about to tell him that the pup was dead, but Victor’s phone suddenly rang. He pulled it out. The caller ID lit up: *My Princess.* His contact name for Grace. I had seen it a thousand times before. He used to pat her head, saying she would always be his princess. He never cared how much that hurt me when I was his wife. True to form, he answered it immediately. “Victor… please help me. My migraine is back. It hurts so much…” Grace’s whiny, crying voice echoed through the speaker. Panic instantly washed over Victor’s face. “Don’t worry, Grace. I’m on my way.” He hung up. He quickly patted my head, as if soothing an angry pet. “I have to check on Grace first. I’ll be back for you later.” Before the words even fully registered, he ran off.

Grace didn’t change at all. She immediately sent me a Snapchat DM with a picture, rubbing her victory in my face. In the photo, she was lying in Victor’s arms, sweating and looking weak. Victor was gently massaging her stomach. Her caption read: *From childhood until now, he has always loved me the most.* *No matter how busy he is, or who he is with.* *The moment I feel unwell, he will fly to my side.* *He gives me all his care and love.* *He is truly the best man in the world!!!* I opened the message and left her on read. This wasn’t a one-time thing. Over the past three years, Grace had been sending me photos and texts every couple of days. I had received countless messages from her, but I never replied once. She loved showing off her fake perfect life. For example, she didn’t work. Victor gave her his black card, and she spent his money like water. She redecorated the house Victor and I used to share, even replacing our master bed. She used my old things whenever she wanted, or just threw them in the trash. For three years, she and Victor did everything a real couple would do. Fortunately, Victor and I were already over. I was completely numb to his betrayal. I knew she was doing this just to get a reaction out of me. My silence was my ultimate contempt. But Grace actually believed I was crying and throwing a fit in secret. The next time I saw Victor, he came into my coffee shop with Grace. They were wearing matching couple bracelets. Victor’s bracelet was engraved with Grace’s initials. He usually only wore formal suits, but today, he wore a trendy, casual blazer to match her. Back when we were married, I had begged him to wear couple outfits with me. He always refused, saying he hated changing his style. Grace looked around my coffee shop, her eyes filled with mock surprise. Victor looked at me, frowning in disapproval. “I gave you so much divorce money. Why are you working such a exhausting job?” When he rejected me, I demanded half his assets. He didn’t hesitate to sign them over back then. I stopped making the coffee, looking up at him with a blank stare. “Because I like it. And it’s none of your business.” Victor didn’t get angry. He still thought I was just acting out because I was jealous. Grace stepped forward, fake-smiling. “Lily, it’s been three years. How have you been?” “Great.” Grace seemed taken RSVP by my calm demeanor. Just then, Victor’s phone rang again. He turned and walked outside to take the call. The second we were alone, Grace dropped her act. Her smile turned into a vicious smirk. “Stop pretending you don’t care. But don’t get your hopes up either.” She looked down at me, laughing softly. “Even if you let Victor mark you again, so what?” “His mother hates you. In her eyes, I am the only perfect Luna for their pack.” “Victor only came back to get you out of a sense of duty.” “Even this visit was only allowed because I gave him permission.” “And you’ll have to sign a prenup.” “By the way, I drafted it myself.” She pulled a document from her designer bag and tossed it onto the counter. I glanced down at it with sheer disgust. The terms were laughable. I would get absolutely none of the Smith pack’s assets. After the marriage, I wasn’t allowed to call his mother “Mom.” I had to address her formally as “Elder Luna.” I wasn’t allowed to represent myself as the Luna in public. To the outside world, I would always just be his “ex-wife.” This humiliating contract actually made me laugh out loud. I pushed the paper back to her. “Since his mother loves you so much, why are you still nameless after three years?” “Three years, Grace. Victor used you, slept with you, but still won’t take responsibility for you. How pathetic.” Grace’s face flushed with rage. She raised her hand to slap me. But then, we heard Victor’s footsteps approaching. Her face changed instantly. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she looked like a victim trying to be understanding. “Lily, I really want you and Victor to get back together.” “As his childhood friend, I just want him to be happy.” “This prenup is just a formality. Please don’t be mad at him, okay?” She was still the same drama queen from three years ago. The moment Victor saw her tears, his brain turned to mush. He lost all ability to think straight.

“Grace, what happened?” Victor pulled Grace into his chest, his eyes filled with worry. Grace shook her head, looking utterly heartbroken. “Nothing, Victor. It’s my fault. Don’t blame Lily.” The more she played the martyr, the more Victor believed I had bullied her. “Lily!” He barked at me, his face cold. “Apologize to her!” His tone was commanding, as if he were ordering a servant. A cold smirk played on my lips. He frowned, looking extremely annoyed. “Grace grew up with me. She’s like a sister to me!” “She is my family. Why do you always have so much malice toward her?” “Can’t you just be nice to her for my sake?” I stared at him blankly. I had seen this exact scene play out a thousand times three years ago. I was sick of it. Just as I was about to kick them out, my phone on the counter rang with a FaceTime call. The screen lit up: *Baby Boy.* The moment Victor saw the caller ID, his eyes lit up. He reached out and swiped the screen before I could stop him. I quickly snatched the phone back. Two-year-old Leo’s adorable face appeared on the screen. “Mommy, I miss you.” Hearing that sweet little voice call me “Mommy” made Victor practically vibrate with excitement. He was absolutely convinced I had given birth to his son. I quickly said a few words to Leo. Before Victor could grab my phone to talk to him, I ended the call. “Let me see my son!” Victor was grinning from ear to ear. His anger vanished instantly, as if it had never happened. Grace’s face turned incredibly pale. “He is not your son!” I looked at him, my voice freezing cold. “Stop bothering me. Both of you are insane.” He didn’t get mad. Instead, he chuckled, still in his delusional world. “Alright, alright, stop being stubborn.” “I really miss you and our boy.” I realized then that a man as arrogant as Victor would never believe I didn’t love him anymore unless he saw my new Alpha with his own eyes. He suddenly said, “My mother’s birthday party is in a few days.” “You’re a good cook. Prepare some of her favorite dishes.” “Use this chance to fix your relationship with her.” “Now that you’ve given her a grandson, she won’t make things hard for you anymore.” So he *did* know. During our three-year marriage, Elder Luna Margaret Smith had humiliated me in front of the entire pack, claiming I was unworthy. Even though I was Victor’s wife, she banned me from attending any official pack events. When I tried to greet her politely, she would turn her back on me. And through all of her bullying, Victor had always stayed silent. I let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Victor, why didn’t I even have the right to eat dinner with your mother back then?” He hesitated for a second. “That’s because you didn’t know how to please her.” Grace chipped in, fake-smiling. “Lily, it’s not humiliating for a junior to beg an elder. His mother loves it when people bow down to her.” She was subtly telling me to get on my knees and beg. I smiled coldly. I looked straight into Victor’s dark eyes, my voice dead serious. “Victor, it’s been three years. Everything has changed.” “I am married. And the kid is not yours.” Then, I turned to Grace. “Maybe you should do the kneeling. Who knows? Maybe you’ll finally get a chance to be the next Luna.”

Grace burst into tears. “I shouldn’t have opened my mouth…” She sobbed, covering her face as she ran out. Victor’s face darkened instantly. He glared at me. “How long are you going to keep up this ridiculous lie!” With that, he ran after Grace. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my husband: *“Honey, the negotiations are over. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.”* I let out a sigh of relief. Once Victor met Ethan in person, his delusion would finally shatter. The next afternoon, I had just arrived at the coffee shop when the daycare teacher called me in a panic. She said Leo had been taken by a man claiming to be his biological father and a woman. My heart leaped into my throat. I rushed straight to the Smith pack territory. There, I saw Grace holding Leo near an abandoned stone quarry. She was “showing him his future territory.” Leo had been terrified of unfamiliar, enclosed, or ruined spaces since he was a baby. He was crying hysterically, his little face flushed red. But Grace ignored his panic completely. She dragged Leo deeper into the rocky quarry. “Don’t be scared, Leo. This will all be yours one day.” “This is your daddy’s land, which means it’s your land. Why are you crying? Stop being so rude. Your loud crying is going to scare the wolves around here.” Leo struggled wildly, trying to run back. The loose rocks at the edge of the quarry began to slide, crashing down right next to Leo’s tiny feet. Leo screamed in terror. Grace smiled gently, but her eyes were dark and threatening. “Look, you scared the rocks down.” “Who allowed you to touch my son!” I screamed in fury, rushing toward them. Just as I was about to grab Leo, Victor appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed me from behind, pulling me back. “Grace is just trying to help. She wants our son to get used to his future territory.” My eyes were burning with tears. I spun around and slapped him hard across the face. “My son is terrified of unfamiliar environments!” “He doesn’t need you to arrange his future!” I turned to grab Leo again, but Victor grabbed my wrist tightly. Grace looked at me, playing innocent. “Today is the third anniversary of the quarry’s closing. I thought it was the perfect place to build a pup’s courage.” “I just wanted Leo to return to the pack. I wanted him to get familiar with the land.” As she spoke, another section of the stone wall crumbled. Sharp gravel rained down on Leo, cutting his arms, legs, and forehead. She added quickly, “Don’t worry. I checked the quarry. It’s totally safe. I used to play here all the time when I was a kid.” Seeing Leo crying so hard he could barely breathe, I panicked and struggled desperately. Victor held me tighter, trying to soothe me. “He’s a boy, Lily. You can’t raise him to be soft.” “He’s going to be an Alpha one day. He needs to build some courage. He can’t be afraid of some rocks.” Suddenly, a large rock fell and struck Leo right on the head. He went limp and fell to the ground. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “He’s knocked out!” Only then did Victor realize the severity of the situation. I broke free, ran to scoop Leo into my arms, and rushed toward the Pack Healer’s clinic. Victor and Grace followed closely behind.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “460910”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

When I arrived at the mate ceremony, Sharon Taylor, a Delta warrior from our pack, stepped out of the crowd. “Lily, don’t be nervous,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “Before a Beta’s mate can officially marry him, they have to pass a test of strength by a Delta warrior. Only a strong werewolf is worthy of standing beside a Beta. Ethan asked me to go easy on you. We’ll just put on a little show for the crowd.” My fated mate, Beta Ethan Miller, stood right beside her. He remained silent, his face blank. I thought it was just a traditional formality, so I didn’t think twice. I walked straight into the cleared center of the hall. But in the next second, Sharon instantly shifted into her wolf form. With a vicious, full-force leap, she pinned me to the ground. Before I could even scream, her fangs sank deep into my throat. My vision went black, and my consciousness slipped into the dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. One month before the mate ceremony. I walked straight through the pack’s main residential area and headed to the nursery gardens on the far west side. That was where Old John lived. He was a close friend of my late father, once the strongest warrior in the pack. After retiring, he chose to spend his days as a quiet gardener. “Uncle John,” I called out. He looked up, squinting at me for a few long seconds before recognizing me. “Little Lily? Look at you, all grown up. Looking for your dad? He’s gone, sweetheart.” “I know. I’m here for you.” He put down his shears and wiped the dirt off his hands. “What’s on your mind?” “I want you to teach me how to fight.” He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my thin arms and legs. He let out a dry chuckle. “You? You’ve probably never even scratched a rogue wolf.” I didn’t say a word. I pulled a thick envelope of cash out of my bag and placed it on the brick ledge. Ten thousand dollars. My entire savings from working at the pup nursery for two years. He glanced at it but didn’t touch it. “I don’t need your money, kid.” But then, I rolled up my sleeve. When he saw the deep, ugly bruises left on my arm by a drunk Ethan Miller, he went completely silent. He stood up, brushed the dirt off his knees, walked into his tool shed, and tossed a pair of old, worn-out boxing gloves at my feet. “Be here at this exact time tomorrow. If you’re late, don’t bother coming back.” On the first day, he made me stand still. Then, he suddenly struck. Slaps, punches, sweeps—attacks came from every angle. I could only raise my arms in a desperate, instinctive attempt to block. “Too slow,” he grunted. Every time a blow landed, a flash of my past life crossed my mind. I remembered Sharon Taylor’s massive wolf form pinning me down. The feeling of her fangs tearing through my windpipe was as clear as if it had happened yesterday. And Ethan? Not long after my funeral, he officially mated with Sharon Taylor. They took over my inheritance. They lived in my house. Everyone in the pack praised Ethan Miller for being a loyal, grieving man who found love again, and they called Sharon Taylor a sweet, supportive angel. Not a single soul asked if I, the bride murdered by her own fated mate’s accomplice, deserved justice. Thinking of this, I pushed myself up from the dirt and gestured to Old John. “Again.” He nodded, a spark of approval in his eyes. “Get ready.” That night, I lay on the wooden cot inside the nursery garden shed. There wasn’t a single spot on my body that didn’t ache. My phone screen lit up. A message from Ethan Miller on Snapchat. “Babe, I just finished my shift and finally got to eat. I’m taking care of everything with the wedding planners. Just relax and get ready to be the most beautiful bride.” I stared at the word “shift,” then unlocked my phone and opened Instagram. Sharon Taylor had posted an update just three minutes ago. It was a selfie of her trying on a wedding dress. In the background, draped over the arm of the sofa, was a dark blue Hermès tie—the exact birthday gift I had bought for Ethan Miller last month. Her caption read: *“Only the truly cherished get the privilege of a dress fitting first.”* I gripped my phone tight, opened Snapchat, and sent Ethan a voice note. “Thanks, babe. You’re working so hard. I trust you completely with the wedding planning.” Then, I typed out a message. “By the way, babe, I saw a limited-edition designer wedding dress. There are only three in the world. The deposit is twenty thousand dollars. What do you think?” “Isn’t that a bit too expensive? A regular dress would look just as beautiful on you.” “But I only get married once. And didn’t you promise to give me the most lavish wedding in the city?” The other side went silent for nearly two minutes. Finally, he replied with one word: “Okay.” A cold smirk played on my lips. I turned off the phone and rolled over to face the wall. Oh, Ethan Miller. In my past life, you wanted my pack inheritance, my house, and my life. In this life, I’m going to drain you dry first.

During the day, I kept working at the pack’s pup nursery. I fed the toddlers, put them down for naps, and played games with them. A little boy who had just learned to walk clung to my knee, his tiny hand gripping my apron, murmuring, “Lily, Lily.” A coworker smiled nearby. “Lily, you were born for this. These pups absolutely adore you.” I smiled back but said nothing. In my past life, I truly loved this job. I loved these noisy little angels. But back then, I never realized that tenderness meant nothing in a wolf pack—how could a mere nursery worker be worthy of being a Beta’s fated mate? As soon as my shift ended, I walked to the garden on the west side. Old John was already waiting for me. He didn’t teach me fancy moves. He just made me dodge. Punch, kick, sweep—he attacked ruthlessly. “Too slow,” he kept repeating. After a few days, I was covered in blue and purple bruises, but I was slowly learning to react the split second his body moved. One evening, a few kids from the nursery whose parents were late to pick them up followed me to the garden. They ran around the flowerbeds, playing with sticks, while I continued my dodging practice. Old John watched them for a long time, then leaned in. “Don’t you find these little brats annoying?” I shook my head. “I love them.” “Huh. You actually act like a real Luna. Too bad our Alpha still hasn’t found his mysterious fated mate yet.” He shrugged and patted my shoulder. “Up. Keep practicing.” That night, my best friend Sophia Parker came to pick me up. Seeing my bruised arms, her eyes went red instantly. “Lily, are you crazy? Why are you doing this to yourself?” I took off my hand wraps and gulped down some water. “Take a look at this.” I handed her my phone. On the screen were screenshots of embezzled funds sent by a private investigator. Ethan Miller had embezzled twenty thousand dollars of pack public funds. Fifteen thousand of that went toward a Cartier bracelet. The recipient: Sharon Taylor. Sophia’s eyes widened in horror. “Ethan embezzled pack funds to buy that bitch Cartier? What did he ever buy you? A cheap ten-dollar bouquet of supermarket flowers for your birthday! Cancel the wedding, Lily! Do not marry this trash!” I shook my head and took my phone back. “No, I can’t cancel it. I need him to crawl on his knees and spit out every single cent he stole from me.” Sophia looked at me, her expression turning into one of pure awe. “Lily, I don’t know what you’re planning, but whatever it is, I’ve got your back.” I watched her leave, then bent down to continue my training. Three days before the mate ceremony, the investigator sent me one final audio recording. It was recorded inside Ethan’s car. Sharon’s voice was unmistakable. “Ethan, once she’s out of the picture after the ceremony, her house is fully paid off, right? Transfer the deed to your name, and we can move in. It’ll be perfect.” Ethan chuckled. “What’s the rush? Once we get her pack trust fund and empty her savings account, this marriage will be worth every second.” Sharon giggled. “You’re so bad, Ethan.” “Don’t you love it, though?” “I absolutely adore it.” The recording ended. I sat in Old John’s tool shed and listened to it three times on loop. My hands were perfectly steady as I backed up the audio file to three different secure cloud drives. Then, I wired the final payment to the investigator with a note: *Great work. Worth every penny.*

Two days before the ceremony, Ethan’s mother, Helen Miller, showed up at my house. She brought a bag of bruised, discounted apples, sat on my sofa with her legs crossed, and immediately started acting like the boss of the house. “Lily, dear, I need to talk to you about something.” “Your house was fully paid off before the wedding, right? Now that you’re marrying Ethan, you two are one family. It looks so bad if the house is only in your name.” “Add Ethan’s name to the deed. It’ll make you look like a supportive, loving wife to the rest of the pack.” I held my teacup and remained quiet. “Even Sharon said that couples shouldn’t keep secrets. Generosity makes a marriage last.” *“Even Sharon said.”* How lovely. An outsider was deciding how my property should be handled, and my future mother-in-law took it as gospel. I took a deep breath and forced a sweet, innocent smile. “You’re absolutely right. Give me the property papers, and I’ll go take care of the transfer tomorrow.” Helen beamed, pulling the property documents right out of her bag and handing them to me. Unbelievable. She had brought them with her, just waiting for this moment. I took the documents and escorted her out. The second the door closed, my smile vanished. I didn’t go to the registry office to add Ethan’s name. I went straight to the bank. I took out a property equity loan. My house was worth $500,000. I walked out with a $350,000 cash loan. The money cleared that very afternoon. I transferred every single cent into Sophia Parker’s offshore account. In my past life, Ethan had forcefully transferred this house to his name and sold it, leaving me with nothing. In this life, he wouldn’t even get a single brick. When I got home, Ethan was actually in the kitchen. He handed me a cup of dark, strong-smelling herbal tea. “Babe, you look tired lately. I brewed this nighttime wellness tea for you. Drink up, get a good night’s sleep, and be the most beautiful bride the day after tomorrow.” I took the cup. Beneath the heavy herbal scent, I caught a sharp, chemical trace of sleeping pills. He wanted me drugged and unconscious before the ceremony so Sharon would have plenty of time to prepare for the “test.” I brought the cup to my lips, pretending to drink. The moment he turned around, I spat it into a paper towel, balled it up, and stuffed it into my pocket. “Thanks, babe. It’s great.” A flash of smug satisfaction crossed Ethan’s eyes. “Great. Go to sleep early. We have rehearsal tomorrow.” He grabbed his jacket, walked into the guest room, and locked the door to make a call. I pressed my ear against the wall. “Sharon, she drank it. Sleeping like a log. Everything is set for the ceremony.” Sharon’s voice came muffled through the wall. “Ethan, when she gets on the stage, should I bite her left shoulder or her throat first?” Ethan laughed. “Whatever makes you happy. She won’t survive the bite anyway.” I went back to my bedroom and locked the door. I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and organized all the evidence I had gathered into a clean, timed slideshow presentation. I titled it: **”The Groom’s Chronicles.”** I set the program to auto-play and linked it directly to the ceremony hall’s main projector account. With everything set, I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes. I wasn’t a victim anymore. I was a sharpened blade.

The day of the mate ceremony arrived. At 6:00 AM, Sophia Parker arrived to do my makeup. When she unpacked the twenty-thousand-dollar designer wedding dress and held it against me, her hands began to shake. “Lily Anderson… your arms…” The dress was a strapless, off-the-shoulder gown, leaving my collarbones and arms completely exposed. The lean, hard muscle definition on my forearms was clear. “Don’t worry about it. Just put on some heavy concealer.” Sophia bit her lip and stopped asking. She applied three layers of heavy-duty concealer to hide the fading bruises. Once the gown was on and the veil was set, I turned around in front of the mirror. The woman in the reflection was breathtaking in her white gown. She looked entirely different from the weak, fragile girl who had been slaughtered in my past life. The old Lily Anderson was dead. The one standing here had crawled back from the depths of hell. At 8:00 AM, the wedding car arrived. Ethan Miller, looking sharp in a tailored black tuxedo, stood by the door. His face was cleanly shaved, his shoes polished to a high shine. His eyes lit up when he saw me. I smiled, took his arm, and got into the car. Sharon Taylor was sitting in the front passenger seat. She wore a simple bridesmaid dress, her hair in a low ponytail, with minimal makeup. She turned around, giving me a weak, fragile smile. “Lily, you look so beautiful today.” Then she covered her mouth and let out a soft cough. I reached out and squeezed her hand with a warm smile. “Thank you, Sharon. I know you’ve been feeling under the weather, yet you still came to be my bridesmaid. It means so much.” “Of course. Witnessing your happiness makes it all worth it, Lily.” Ethan glanced at Sharon in the rearview mirror, and Sharon caught his gaze. The look they exchanged lasted less than a second, but I saw it all—the triumph, the thrill, and the sick anticipation. The car drove into the grandest banquet hall in the territory. Flowers lined the entrance, and a red carpet rolled out to the doors. Ethan got out first, opened my door, and offered his hand like a perfect gentleman. “We’re here, babe.” I lifted my skirt, took his arm, and walked in. As we pushed open the heavy double doors of the banquet hall, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. I scanned the room. The floral arrangements, the lighting, the tables—everything matched the expensive plans. Except for one thing. In the center of the hall, where the champagne tower should have been, a large, empty combat ring had been cleared out. I pretended to be shocked and looked at Ethan. “What is… this?” Ethan patted my hand gently, his voice smooth and reassuring. “Don’t worry, Lily. It’s just pack tradition. A Beta’s mate needs to show her strength to bless the union. It’s for good luck.” He stepped aside, and Sharon walked out from behind him, a sports jacket zipped up over her bridesmaid dress. She still wore that fragile, sickly expression. “Lily, Ethan insisted on this. I tried to say no. Don’t worry, I’m so weak right now, I probably don’t even have half your strength. We’ll just tap each other and call it a day.” The guests, clueless about the scheme, began to cheer and jeer. “Go for it! It’s tradition!” “Don’t be shy, bride! Show us what you got!” “Sharon is basically a twig, Lily! You’ve got nothing to fear!” The cheers grew louder and louder. Everyone was laughing, cheering, thinking it was a harmless game. Just like in my past life. I remained silent for ten seconds, then looked straight into Ethan’s eyes. “I’ll do it.” Ethan blinked, caught off guard. I continued, “But on one condition. In case of any accidents, we sign a blood oath so no one can blame the other.” I took a document from Sophia, who was waiting nearby, and unfolded it in front of Ethan. The terms were spelled out in bold, black ink. *“During the sparring session, any physical injury caused by either party shall be the sole responsibility of the injured party. Neither party shall seek compensation or legal action.”* Ethan looked down at the document, his lips twitching into a smirk. To him, I was signing my own death warrant. Sharon’s eyes lit up, and she snatched the pen to sign her name immediately. Once she signed the blood oath, I handed the paper back to Sophia for safekeeping. Then, under the gaze of three hundred guests waiting for a show, I slowly unzipped and stepped out of my wedding gown, revealing the athletic wear I wore underneath.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “460909”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After the engagement party, Ethan Caldwell brought family and friends back to the apartment to show off the smart home system I had installed. He held my hand and steered me to the middle of the living room. “From now on, you have the highest access in this house.” I laughed and said it three times. “Close the curtains.” The system didn’t respond. The guests laughed uncomfortably. Someone tried to smooth it over for me. “Her voice print probably hasn’t been registered yet, right?” Ethan’s expression shifted. He was about to end the demonstration. Then the ceiling lit up, and a woman’s voice filled every wall. “Ethan, I’m home.” The curtains slid shut on their own. The thermostat dropped to sixty-six degrees. Warm accent lighting rolled across the whole apartment. The system replied gently, “Welcome home, Vivian Shaw.” The room went silent. Vivian Shaw. The woman Ethan had lost three years ago. The one he’d never really let go of. I stood there in the light with my hands and feet turning cold. I had watched the crew install every line of this system myself, working late into the night alongside them. But it remembered that she couldn’t stand the heat, remembered she liked this exact lighting, remembered the soft lilt at the end of her voice when she called Ethan’s name. I was the one it didn’t recognize. Ethan yanked the master power cord out of the wall. “It’s just a memorial program. Don’t take it to heart,” he said, his voice rough. A second later, the darkened screen lit up again on its own. Her face. Vivian’s face. It appeared on the wall and smiled at me. “Outsider, Iris Langley. Please leave my home.” … I clutched the water glass Ethan pressed into my hand. The heat of it burned my palm red. Ethan came back to himself and moved to block the projection. I stared at his back. “Why are you standing in her way?” He turned, and something flickered across his face. “Iris. Don’t do this right now.” “I’ll delete it after everyone leaves.” I let out a small laugh. “I’m doing this?” “This is our engagement party. And your system just called me an outsider in front of every guest in the room.” Someone next to us tried to defuse it. “Come on. Smart systems glitch all the time. And you know, Vivian’s gone. It’s not really right to rush and erase things a dead person left behind.” I turned to look at whoever had said it. They shut up. Ethan took my hand, his fingers tightening around mine. “I know this hurts.” “Give me a little time. Don’t make a scene in front of everyone.” I pulled my hand free. “Which one of us is making a scene right now?” Ethan didn’t answer. He reached for my hand again. “Iris. You’re my fiancée.” The system responded tenderly, “Mistress designation error detected. Suggested address: Vivi.” The whole room fell silent. Ethan crossed to the main console and started ripping cables out. He talked as he did it. “An old recording got triggered by accident. It’s not what you think.” I set the glass down. “Ethan. Don’t bother. I’m leaving.” I walked to the entryway. The lock lit up red. “Iris Langley does not have after-hours exit privileges. Please wait for owner authorization.” I stared at the words and clenched my fingers. During the installation Ethan had said the paperwork was a hassle and let me register every verification account in my own name. And yet somehow I was the only person in this apartment without permission to leave. I pressed the door release three times. The red light never went out. Ethan came over and opened the door with his fingerprint. The lock clicked. And through the speakers came Vivian’s voice again. “Ethan. Don’t leave me.” Ethan’s hand froze on the handle. I didn’t rush him. All he had to do was pull the door open and offer to walk me out, and I would have found a reason to convince myself to stay. He looked back at the projection wall. “Tonight’s been a mess. Can you just not leave? Please.” I let go of the handle. I didn’t argue anymore. He led me to the guest room. There was a bottle of pillow spray on the nightstand. There was a name on the label. Vivian. I picked it up and dropped it into the trash. Ethan came in, bent down, and fished it back out. “They don’t sell this scent anymore,” he said. I asked, “Is everything of Vivian’s more important than me?” He paused. Then he came over and put his arms around me. His voice went low. “No. The person I’m marrying is you.” I closed my eyes. But the bottle was still in his hand. Sometime in the middle of the night, the guest room lights came on by themselves. The system announced softly, “Please practice Vivian’s goodnight recording, Iris.”

I didn’t sleep. At sunrise I sat down in the living room and opened the system’s admin panel. The login page showed my email. But it refused me management rights. I opened the household member list. Ethan. Ethan’s mother. A grayed-out profile for Vivian. And Vivian’s mother, Linda Hayes. My name was at the bottom. My status wasn’t fiancée. It wasn’t family member either. It was “adaptation subject.” Ethan came out with breakfast. There were lilies of the valley on the dining table. I sat down, and my throat immediately started to itch. He got up to move the flowers. The system chimed in. “Lily of the valley was Vivian’s favorite. Retention recommended during the engagement period.” Ethan’s mother frowned. “Iris. Bear with it. It’s just flowers.” I looked at Ethan. He stood there holding the vase, unmoving. Finally, he said, “I’ll have someone put them a little further away.” The system continued. “Vivian’s breakfast preferences do not match. Please correct Iris’s selection.” I looked at him. “Did you hear what it just said?” He reached over and switched off the speaker. “Ignore it.” “Muting the speaker doesn’t delete the program.” His hand stopped on the switch. “There’s too much going on before the wedding.” “Once the wedding is over, I’ll wipe the system.” “Why does every single thing have to wait until after the wedding?” He didn’t answer. The doorbell rang. I opened the door. My mother stood outside holding a paper bag. She had just been discharged from the hospital. She had to brace herself against the doorframe to stay upright. She still smiled and held the bag out to me. “I finished your scarf. I was worried you’d be cold at the wedding.” I reached out to help her inside. The lock flashed red. “Temporary visitor. Please wait for owner authorization.” Mom’s hand froze on the bag. “It’s fine. High-tech things, you know.” I looked back at Ethan. He came over and cleared her. “Mrs. Langley. The system’s been acting up. Please don’t take it personally.” She waved him off. “Not at all.” The moment she stepped inside, Vivian’s voice came over the speakers. “Mom. You’re here.” A profile card popped up on the wall. Linda Hayes. Family. Permanent access. Mom sat down. The system chimed again. “Temporary visitor access remaining: nine minutes, fifty-eight seconds.” Her fingers tightened on the paper bag. She didn’t open it. Instead she took the scarf out and held it out to me. “The color might be a little plain. If you don’t like it, I can knit you a new one.” I took the scarf and pressed it against my chest. “I love it.” I turned to Ethan. “Why is my mother a temporary visitor while Vivian’s mother is permanent family?” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Those permissions are old. I never noticed.” “You never noticed. And me? I’m listed as an adaptation subject. Did you never notice that either?” Ethan pressed his lips together. “Iris. Not in front of your mother.” I gave a thin smile. “So I’m the one being unreasonable again.” Mom pulled at my sleeve. “Iris, don’t fight. Cool off and talk about it later.” I wanted to walk out. But she had just gotten out of the hospital. The wedding invitations had already gone out. I needed to know. Was this a glitch? Or was Ethan doing it on purpose? The door closed. The system scanned the scarf in my hand. “Does not match Vivian’s color palette. Replacement recommended.” I grabbed a decorative piece off a nearby shelf and hurled it at the sensor. Ethan heard the crash and rushed in, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “Iris. Don’t.” I tried to pry his arms off. I couldn’t. “It said my mother’s work doesn’t belong here.” He tightened his hold. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll have the scarf put away safely. Okay?” I stopped struggling. My phone lit up. A new reminder had appeared on my calendar. 【Day Three. Complete family relationship adaptation.】

The monitoring dashboard was covered in red flags. I started pulling the device logs. I didn’t bring it up with Ethan again. Asking him just meant hearing “I’ll deal with it.” I sat on the floor of the guest room and logged in with the engineering account I’d kept from installation. Following the log trail, I opened Vivian’s old data records. There was no clinginess in them. No performing for anyone. Just late nights refining project proposals, and clear, level-voiced messages telling Ethan to stop interfering with her work. She had been independent. Proud. And in death she had been trapped inside a system that called itself love. It was pathetic and it was cruel. The system was recording me every single day. The bedroom. The kitchen. The bathroom door. The fitting mirror. The entryway. Every clip came tagged. Tone deviation. Intonation deviation. Emotional deviation. I opened one. It was from six months ago, when I had the flu. I remembered that night. Ethan had sat by the bed coaxing me to take my medicine. I had said his name. “Ethan. I feel awful.” He had lifted me up and said, “I’m here.” I had always thought that moment belonged only to us. But now the recording had been sliced into fragments. Beside each one was a tag. Correctable material. The handle turned. Ethan stood in the doorway, eyes on my screen. I asked, “When I was sick, why were you recording this?” He came in. “I just wanted to keep the moments when you needed me.” “Then why did you have to break my voice apart?” He didn’t answer. He crouched down and reached for my hand. I moved my hand away and kept scrolling. I opened the system photo album. Every picture of me and Ethan was split into two versions. Original and Enhanced. In the enhanced version, the corner of my mouth had been lifted. My hair color and eye makeup had been altered. Below it read, “Similarity to Vivian increased by twelve percent.” I remembered this photo. Ethan had looked at the enhanced version and said, “This is my favorite picture of you.” I turned the phone toward him. “Was it me you loved, or the version of me edited into her?” He gripped the phone. His knuckles went white. “I didn’t know the photos were being altered.” “There’s a lot you don’t know.” That afternoon, the bridal shop called about my fitting. Ethan took my hand. “I’ll go with you.” At the shop, the stylist brought out a gown that wasn’t the one I’d chosen. I stopped in front of it. A high-necked dress. “This isn’t the one I picked.” The stylist glanced at her clipboard, then at Ethan. “Mr. Caldwell confirmed this design last night. This cut suits a bride with short hair better.” The one with short hair wasn’t me. It was Vivian. I turned to Ethan. “I didn’t confirm anything. Maybe the account sent it automatically.” I didn’t say anything. I walked closer to the gown, and realized the high neck would cover the mole on my collarbone. Ethan’s phone lit up on its own. 【Distinguishing feature suppression complete.】 I let out a bitter laugh, turned around, and went back to the fitting room to change into my own clothes. Ethan followed me to the door. “Since we’re already here with this one, could you just keep it?” I stopped. “This is your choice. Not mine.” His lips moved. He tried again. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want to make things complicated for the staff.” “Every time something happens, you’re worried about inconveniencing other people. Somehow you’re never worried about upsetting me.” He looked down. He took off his coat and put it around my shoulders. “I’ll order a new one. Whatever style you want, I’ll pick it with you.” I didn’t push his coat off. I didn’t look up either. “Ethan. Which time you said you’d handle something did you actually handle it clean?” His phone lit up again. A notification. 【Complete Iris voice recheck tonight.】 I saw it. He saw it too. He killed the screen. I laughed once. “See? It’s more honest than you are.”

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260811BdJQW5lYTW 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni321152”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix

At dinner, Mom always tossed Dad a bowl and made him crouch by the table to eat, like a dog. She said men who cheated didn’t deserve a seat at the table. Dad always looked at her with quiet remorse and lowered himself down without a word. Sometimes, watching him hunched on the floor in his sharp-tailored suit, scraping at his food, a flicker of something soft would cross Mom’s eyes. Then came Dad’s birthday. That day, Mom smiled, which was rare, and told me a secret: I was going to have a little sister. She bought a big cake and set it on the table, ready to share the good news with Dad, ready to let the past turn a page. But when Dad came home, he brought Mom’s best friend Rachel with him, along with a little boy who looked about three. The boy called out timidly, “Daddy.” Dad’s back was straight for once. He wasn’t avoiding her eyes the way he usually did. “Lucas is my son with Rachel. I’m bringing him home.” Mom’s face went white. The wine glass slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. … Mom walked over quietly. Dad instinctively stepped in front of Rachel and the little boy. But Mom only reached up and placed the birthday hat on his head. She patted his shoulder. She said nothing. Then she took my hand. She was going to take me out of that house. I could feel how cold her palm was. I knew, in that moment, that whatever had tied her to this home was gone. “Claire—” Rachel chased after us and blocked the way. Her eyes were red, tears clinging to her cheeks. She looked more heartbroken than Mom did. “You… blame me, if you have to blame someone.” Her hands were shaking as she reached for Mom, who pulled away. I had seen Mom and Rachel at their closest, curled up together under one blanket watching a movie, both of their faces lit with the same bright laughter. Now there was an invisible wall between them. “Daniel didn’t cheat. He doesn’t love me. I begged him…” “I just wanted to help. I couldn’t stand watching the two of you drift apart because of a child…” She caught Mom’s hand, tears spilling down her face. “Rachel. We’ve known each other for twenty years.” Mom’s voice was quiet. “Put your hand on your heart and tell me. When you slid into bed with Daniel, when you got pregnant with his child, did you think of me? Even once?” Rachel’s mouth opened, closed. Tears ran into her lips. She didn’t answer. “You didn’t.” Mom said it flatly. I looked up at her. Her eyes held nothing but a still, frozen calm. “Claire, I did! I thought about you!” Rachel was crying harder now. “From now on, my child will be your child too. We can all live together. If you’re not happy, I…” She glanced back at Dad, biting her lip. “I can crouch and eat with Daniel, too.” Before Mom could speak, Dad exploded. “Enough!” He shoved Mom hard. She stumbled and slammed into the corner of the table. A quiet, pained sound escaped her lips. Dad planted himself in front of Rachel and glared at Mom. “You’ve humiliated me enough. Don’t you dare lay a finger on Rachel or Lucas.” Mom stood there, head bent, spine curved, unable to straighten up for a long time. I squeezed her hand, worried. Then, after a long silence, she gave a low, broken laugh. “Now you call it humiliation? Daniel, this is what you owe me.” Her head snapped up. The whites of her eyes were shot through with red as she stared him down. “Or have you forgotten?”

At those words, Dad froze. Rachel’s face crumpled with something like guilt. I knew exactly what Mom was talking about. I had been very small then, but I remembered. I had seen her, drenched in blood, with my own eyes. Mom was the only heir to the Whitfield Group. Not long after I was born, she went back to work. The company was in the middle of a major restructuring, and it couldn’t run without her at the helm as CEO. Grandmother waited until Mom wasn’t home, and had Dad quietly take me out to the old family estate in the countryside. I was terrified of this strange place. I cried and cried for Mom, but Grandmother ignored me, and didn’t give me any food. The sky grew completely dark. Then she brought out a large bowl. It was too heavy for me to lift. Inside was some milk, grayish, with tiny specks of dust floating on the surface. I was starving. I got down on my knees, stuck out my tongue, and lapped at the milk, clumsy, one lick at a time. Like a puppy. That was when Mom arrived. The moment she saw it, something in her broke. She rushed over, scooped me up, and turned to run. Grandmother stopped her. She turned back, shoved the front door shut, and let the bolt drop with a heavy thud. “You worthless thing. What’s the rush?” Mom didn’t answer. She just held me tighter and watched the old woman warily. “The Whitfields have a whole empire. What good is a girl?” Grandmother’s mouth curled downward with contempt. “A family needs more than one child. Fine, Daniel doesn’t have the stomach for it. It doesn’t matter…” She paused, and smiled. “He has an older brother.” Mom’s face drained of color. I could feel her heart racing, and I started to cry. Heavy footsteps came from behind us. A man shambled out of the back room. There was something wrong with him. Drool hung from the corner of his mouth, dripping down in slow beads. When he saw Mom, his eyes lit up. “Baby… Baby…” He lurched toward her. Mom scrambled to get out of the way, and while she was distracted, Grandmother snatched me from her arms. “Please, calm down. I have money. I can pay to have him treated. Just don’t touch Lily…” Mom’s voice, always so composed, was breaking with panic as she pleaded. “Treat him?” Grandmother laughed coldly. “He can’t be fixed. And I’ve stopped trying.” “Give him a child. That way I’ve done right by my firstborn.” She stepped back and tilted her head toward the door behind her. “Go with Marcus. Otherwise, you can forget about taking this girl anywhere.” Mom looked at the old woman, then at me. Her eyes were red. “Mother, I’ll go. Just don’t hurt Lily. She’s your granddaughter too.” The door closed. I didn’t dare cry. I didn’t dare move. I could only stare, frozen, at that dark doorway. It felt as though the door had swallowed my mother whole. I don’t know how long it was before Dad came. He broke down the door and carried Mom out, soaked in blood. Rachel picked me up. Her hands shook, and her eyes burned with hate.

After that, Mom was in the hospital for a long time. Every day I waited for her to come home. I missed her so much. But the mother who came back was not the one I had known. She was quiet now. Nothing interested her. She didn’t run the household. She didn’t ask about the company. Only when Dad was in the room did something ignite in her, and it was pure hatred. Rachel came often to sit with her, but nothing anyone did could make her smile again. Until my birthday. That was the happiest day I can remember. For one day, Mom seemed like her old self. She took me shopping for a beautiful princess dress. She made a little crown for me with her own hands. She invited Dad and Rachel over, and the four of us had a warm, quiet birthday at home. Mom’s smile was so soft. I thought maybe everything was going to be all right. But the next day, all of it shattered. I woke to the sound of voices in the living room. I peeked through the crack of the door. Dad was on his knees. Mom stood over him, clutching a shirt. “Daniel. Whose lipstick is on this collar?” Dad kept his head down and said nothing. Mom threw the shirt in his face. Her voice came out hoarse, like it wasn’t hers. “Have you been sleeping with someone else? How could you do this to me?” He still didn’t answer. But from that day on, Dad never sat at our table again. “Rachel. I lied to myself for years. I couldn’t let myself believe that the woman he was seeing was you.” “I would rather have been wrong than have to prove it.” Mom’s eyes glistened as she stared at Rachel. Rachel sank to the floor, shoulders trembling. Whatever guilt had lived in Dad’s eyes vanished. “Claire, that’s enough. Rachel is already suffering. What more do you want?” “When it comes down to it, wasn’t going in there your own choice?” “For you, I had my own mother sent to prison. I accepted that.” “But you’re not exactly clean either. What gives you the right to look down on us?” Mom’s head snapped up. The hatred in her eyes could have burned them alive. The room fell silent. Rachel slowly got to her feet. “Claire, stop pushing me. I don’t want to destroy what you two have. I’ll leave!” She grabbed the little boy and rushed out of the house like a gust of wind.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202608111XMdHPWZbw 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni316013”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix