Category: English

My mom was a university professor. She always said the biggest regret of her life was marrying my dad—a man who’d blown up as a livestream shopping host. “So materialistic. So tacky.” Eventually, they divorced. In my last life, I chose my mom—the one who seemed above it all, who didn’t care about money. What a mistake. I bought a new dress? “Wasteful.” I wanted to grab dinner with friends on the weekend? She slapped me across the face. When my period came and I wanted decent tampons, I got screamed at. “You’re just like your father—obsessed with money! You’re such a disappointment!” Later, my uncle’s investment failed and he drowned in debt. When he tried to sell me to an underground matchmaking ring for bride money, I begged my mom through tears to save me. She just frowned. “You won’t even help your own uncle? You’re as selfish as your father!” In the end, my uncle sold me to some fifty-year-old bachelor in the mountains. I died falling off a cliff trying to escape. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment of their divorce—the moment they asked me to choose.

“So what if I used your money? My brother needs startup capital for his business. I gave him fifty thousand dollars. What’s the problem?” “Money, money, money—that’s all you care about. You spend your days playing a clown on livestream. Have you no shame?” “Being an influencer isn’t impressive! You have zero depth. No wonder your follower count keeps dropping!” “Let’s get divorced. I have nothing left to say to you.” Mom was tearing into Dad. Dad gripped his phone, knuckles white. He’d been live streaming until 3 AM last night to clear his inventory. His eyes were bloodshot. His voice came out hoarse: “Fine, we’ll divorce. But that fifty thousand was my college fund for Emma. You need to get it back.” Mom acted like she’d heard something absurd. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then they both turned to look at me. “Emma, you’re old enough now. After we divorce, you decide who you want to live with.” Mom tossed the question at me like it weighed nothing. But Dad’s eyes were red-rimmed as he gently touched my head. “This is Dad’s fault. I’m sorry you had to see this. It has nothing to do with you.” Watching this scene—identical to my last life—my heart pounded like a drum. Mom sat primly in a chair surrounded by stacks of old books, her expression arrogant. Dad anxiously ran his fingers through his hair, dry and brittle from too much dyeing. In my last life, I thought Mom was calm, wise, cultured. So I chose her without hesitation. But after living with her for two years, I understood: Dad’s anxiety and frustration? She caused it. She constantly belittled him. And her brother? He endlessly demanded money from Dad. Remembering what happened in my previous life, I threw myself at Dad and grabbed his arm. “Dad, I’m staying with you.” Dad froze. His eyes instantly grew redder. Mom just raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing, contemptuous smile. “Of course. She inherited your inferior genes. Shallow, just like you.” Dad immediately covered my ears with his hands. The gesture was clumsy but careful. “Since Emma’s staying with me, please return that fifty thousand as soon as possible. I’ll have a lawyer handle the rest of the assets.” I pulled Dad’s hands down and looked up at Mom. “Someone as above-it-all as you—someone who treats money like dirt—surely doesn’t care about a little cash, right? After all, you have your dignity.” Mom’s indifferent expression froze for a second before she recovered her haughty composure. “Fine. I’ll leave with nothing. This house reeks of greed anyway. I should have left long ago.” She stood, took only a few thick books from the shelf, packed them in a faded cloth bag, and took nothing else. Before leaving, she glanced at me—like she was looking at a fallen soul. “I hope you don’t lose yourself in the pursuit of money.” I smiled. Lose myself? I hoped that when her brother squeezed every last drop of value from her, she wouldn’t regret today’s choice.

In my last life, I chose Mom. Dad left heartbroken, taking almost nothing—just his livestream equipment and a few clothes. That fifty thousand? Mom transferred it to my uncle that same day. My uncle opened a “café”—fancy décor, eighty-eight dollars for a cup of coffee. It went bankrupt in two months. After it closed, my uncle’s family naturally moved into our place—the run-down house near Mom’s university. At first, they just made Mom give up the master bedroom because my uncle’s wife, Patricia, was pregnant and needed quiet. Then they made me go to the grocery store after school every day, then come home and cook. I was preparing for my SATs at the time, trying to get into a good college. I was busy. So I refused to do their chores. But Mom said: “Family helps each other. Don’t be cold like your father.” Gradually, buying new clothes became “wasteful.” Wanting to eat at a restaurant with friends became “consumerism.” I couldn’t even buy decent tampons during my period. Seeing I had zero autonomy, my uncle’s family let their son take over my desk. When I tried to get my desk back to do homework, Mom said: “Why are you acting just like your father!” In that moment, I felt frozen to the bone. I wasn’t spending recklessly. I just wanted basic study conditions and a shred of dignity. But in her mouth, that made me selfish. Meanwhile, my uncle blew through our money, failed at every investment, and ended up buried in debt. When he hit rock bottom, he listened to some shady broker and tried to “marry” me off to some rich old man in a remote rural area. I knelt before Mom, crying until I couldn’t breathe. She just frowned: “Your uncle has no other options. If you can help him, that’s your value.” In the end, I was tied up and stuffed into a van, sold into the mountains. The night I tried to escape, it was pouring rain. The road was slippery. I missed my footing and fell off the cliff. — Dad really was an influencer—the insanely lucky kind. He used to be an ordinary office worker. After getting laid off, he tried making funny short videos. Somehow, a “immersive supermarket free sample tasting” video went viral. Then he started livestream selling and made some money. Mom was an associate professor of English Literature. Deep down, she looked down on Dad’s job—thought he was playing a clown on screen. Embarrassing. After Dad made money, the first thing he wanted was to move out of our old house. Mom refused. Dad wanted to sign me up for a good dance class. Mom objected—she said the costumes were too sexy, that it was dancing to please men. I knew Dad was under a lot of pressure with his livestreams. The industry was cutthroat. He never went to college, so he had to rack his brain to entertain his followers just to keep them. But competition was fierce, and his numbers really were declining. After Mom left, I went to clean her room. The irony. On her desk sat a luxury fountain pen—several thousand dollars for just one. Her closet held several dresses made of expensive fabric. In her vanity drawer: unopened high-end perfume. She was the one who loved luxury goods, yet she constantly called Dad tacky and me vain. This time, without Dad’s financial support, I wanted to see how she’d maintain that elegance and superiority. Just as I was thinking this, someone pounded loudly on my door. I went downstairs. My uncle had already barged in, pointing at Dad’s face and cursing. “That fifty thousand was a gift from my sister! She already wrote up a gift agreement! Now, right when my café just went under—my hardest time—you want the money back? Are you even human?” “Your daughter doesn’t need fifty thousand for college! What’s the point of her reading so many books? She’s just going to get married anyway!” His shameless attitude—exactly the same as my last life. The difference was, this time, Dad stood straight in front of me.

Dad wasn’t tall, but standing in front of me now, he was like a wall. He shouted at my uncle: “Your business failed—what does that have to do with me? That money was for my daughter’s education. I’m divorcing your sister. I have no obligation to help you anymore.” At the word “divorce,” a calculating gleam flashed in my uncle’s eyes. “Divorce? Grace never mentioned that to me. If you’re getting divorced, you’ll have to split assets, right? This house, the car, the savings… my sister gets at least half!” Dad laughed in disbelief. I stepped forward with a smile. “Uncle, didn’t you check with Mom before coming? She said she won’t take a single penny after the divorce. Mom’s a professor. She doesn’t care about money.” My uncle’s eyes went wide. “What? Has Grace lost her mind?!” Dad pushed my uncle toward the door: “You want money? Tell Grace to come talk to me herself.” I smirked. I wanted to see if Mom could stay so proud when facing her greedy brother. We waited two days. Nothing from Mom. But things on Dad’s end got worse. His livestream numbers kept dropping. Several brand partners wanted to terminate their contracts. Between the penalties and his previous investments, he was deep in debt. He couldn’t sleep at night. He’d stand on the balcony chain-smoking, jumping every time his phone rang. It hurt to watch. I spoke up: “Dad, let’s get that fifty thousand back. We can pay off some of the debt.” Dad shook his head, voice hoarse: “That was for you… Dad’s useless.” “Dad,” I looked him in the eye, “I believe in you. You built everything from nothing before. You can do it again. Let’s get through this first. For college, I can earn scholarships or work part-time.” Dad’s eyes reddened. He rubbed my head hard. “I thought… you’d be embarrassed by me. That you’d leave with your mom.” “Silly girl.” In my last life with Mom, I didn’t lack much materially, but my heart died. This life with Dad might be hard for now, but my heart was warm. “Dad, we need to get that money fast. Someone like Uncle will just throw it away.” With my insistence, Dad finally sent Mom a formal message demanding the fifty thousand back. Mom replied with one line: “How vulgar.” Then she blocked him. Looks like we’d need another approach. I had Dad pull the transfer records and my uncle’s so-called gift agreement. Full of holes, as expected. Mom had only verbally agreed. The transfer was labeled loan.The gift document my uncle typed up didn’t even have a fingerprint. We consulted a lawyer. He said we could absolutely sue to recover the money. Dad hesitated—”They’re still family”—but I had the lawyer send a formal demand letter immediately. The effect was instant. The next day, my uncle showed up downstairs, furious, but too scared to come up. He just stood there cursing at the street. “David! Are you even human? Suing your own brother-in-law over some money?” “My sister really hit rock bottom marrying you! And your ungrateful daughter is a totally a bitch.” Dad wanted to go down and confront him. I held him back, grabbed my phone, opened the camera, and walked to the balcony. “Uncle, got the lawyer’s letter? That fifty thousand was for my education—we have the transfer records to prove it. Either pay up, or we’ll see you in court. If you keep yelling and disturbing the neighbors, I’ll call the cops for noise disturbance.” “You— you…” My uncle pointed at me, his finger shaking, but no words came out. After a long moment, he finally snapped, “Just you wait!” Then he turned and hurried out, looking completely humiliated. Dad looked at me with a complicated expression—surprise and guilt mixed together. “Emma, you shouldn’t have to deal with this…” “Dad, we’re family.” I linked my arm through his. “We’ll get through this together.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367827”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #擦边Steamy

My husband and I were praised as the model arranged marriage couple in our circle—until I developed postpartum depression. I fled the nursery, trying to escape my son’s relentless crying. Wandering aimlessly through the house, my footsteps stopped outside the study. At some point, a password lock had been installed on the study door. Instinctively, I raised my hand and entered my husband’s birthday, then our son’s. Neither worked. My nerves tingled with a strange excitement as I prepared to enter my own birthday. But my hand trembled, and I pressed 0817 instead of 0517—that was my sister’s birthday. I stiffly pushed open the door that had opened by chance. The next moment, I froze in place. In the center of the study sat a portrait identical to my husband’s face—a memorial portrait. The nameplate clearly bore my husband’s name: Quinn Harper. For a moment, my mind went completely blank. I didn’t know whether to be angry that my husband used my sister’s birthday as his password. Or whether to be angry that my husband kept his own portrait and memorial tablet in his study. A terrible thought flashed through my mind, but I immediately suppressed it. I knew Quinn had a twin brother named Kieran, but he had died in a car accident at eighteen. I had never met either brother before marriage because I had lived abroad with my grandparents as a child. I only returned home after graduating from college. Just days after returning, the Harper family came with the engagement token, and my parents readily agreed to the marriage. No one asked what I wanted—except Quinn, who walked up to me. “Are you willing to marry me? If you’re not, you can refuse.” In that moment, I fell for this fiancé I was meeting for the first time. Ours was a business alliance. Even though I liked him, I was willing to maintain a respectful distance. I respected his space and never entered his study without permission. But he had locked it. This was blatant distrust and defensiveness. Realizing this, my already fragile rationality completely shattered. I raised my head and surveyed this study I had never set foot in before. The study wasn’t cleaned by the housekeeper, yet it was spotlessly clean. He, who never cared about his surroundings, had arranged flowers and plants here, kept goldfish. A notorious workaholic, yet the study had an entire wall of collectible figures and the latest gaming console. In this study, there was a man I had never known. He wasn’t dull and boring—he had romance and passion for life. Footsteps sounded behind me, followed by an explosive shout. “What are you doing? Who gave you permission to enter my study?” I turned around. My husband’s eyes burned with rage, his fury turning them bloodshot. This was the first time he had lost his temper with me, yet I felt no fear. I almost wanted to laugh. In three years of marriage, this was the first time I’d seen such vivid expression on his face. The man who had always been restrained and controlled, even during intimate moments—his mask shattered when I opened his study. Seeing I didn’t answer, my husband walked over to pull me away. His large hand clamped around my arm, using no restraint. The pain made me furrow my brow. I used all my strength to shake off his hand, stubbornly staying in place. My gaze fell on the photo in the center of the study, and on the tablet bearing my husband’s name. “Are you Quinn or Kieran?” I asked calmly. The atmosphere instantly became tense. I should have stared intently at his expression to catch any lies. But in that moment, I didn’t dare turn around. Silence spread through the air, stretching time, tormenting me. “I’m Quinn.” He answered in a voice that sounded like surrender. I sensed something, but I didn’t want to dig deeper. I turned back to face Quinn again, asking him to give me a reason to explain the memorial tablet. “I was in that car accident with Kieran, but I was the one who survived.” “All these years, I’ve carried guilt, so I made this tablet. I wish it had been me who died instead.” His flat tone made it sound like he was discussing the weather, yet I heard the bone-deep self-torture. My heart seized with sudden pain. I couldn’t control the sympathy I felt for this man before me. But my questions weren’t finished. “Why did you use Aria’s birthday as the password?” I hoped desperately that he would give me a reason I could accept, like he had with the tablet. Whatever he said, I could accept it. I would choose to believe. But he didn’t. His tightly pressed lips were like the door to his heart, closed to me. The baby’s cries rang out. My tears also burst forth.

I took my still-crying son back to my mother’s house. Quinn watched us leave without movement or words. Though the Hayes house was my parents’ home, I felt incredibly out of place there. Counting the days, I had lived at the Hayes house for less time than I’d lived at the Harper house. Seeing me suddenly return, everyone in the Hayes family seemed at a loss. In the past, I certainly would have had the sense to leave. But the son in my arms was still whimpering, rain poured outside, and I needed a safe harbor. I hadn’t grown up with my parents. When my grandparents sent me back, they said, “Your parents will treat you well. They’ll love you like we do.” I believed them, so I shamelessly stayed. And the first person in this house to reach out to me was my sister, Aria Hayes. “Aria, come in quickly. I’ll find you some clothes. Go take a hot shower first.” Until my sister pulled me upstairs, my parents standing to the side never said a word. At dinner, they finally seemed to remember to ask why I’d come home. I couldn’t explain. Whether it was the memorial tablet or the password, neither was appropriate to mention to them. I could only respond dryly, “Quinn and I had a fight.” Mr. Hayes’s face darkened. He put down his fork. “Friction between husband and wife is normal. Running back to your parents’ house over every little thing isn’t appropriate.” Mrs. Hayes nodded beside him. “We know Quinn. He’s not an unreasonable person. As a wife, you need to be more accommodating. Family harmony is most important.” The already unpalatable meal became even more tasteless. I simply put down my bowl and fork, looking at my parents who were criticizing me. “This is my first time coming home because of a fight. Where does ‘every little thing’ come from?” “Quinn’s not unreasonable, so does that mean I am? Why should I have to accommodate everything just because I’m the wife?” Hearing my rebuttal, my parents froze in shock. Since returning home, I had always been obedient and well-behaved around them. Over time, even I had forgotten that abroad, I had been bold, unrestrained, and free-spirited. Aria looked at me, then at our parents, smiling as she smoothed things over. “Don’t you know what kind of person Aria is? She must have been wronged to come back. We should back her up.” Aria’s words calmed our parents down. Mom looked at me with some guilt. Before she could speak, I stood up. “I’m going to check on the baby.” In the rare quiet of the room, I stared blankly at my son’s sleeping face. My mind was crammed with chaotic thoughts, pressing down until I couldn’t breathe. The door lock clicked. Aria walked in. She carried a blanket and pillow, sitting beside me. “Aria, can we sleep together tonight?” Though my conflict with Quinn involved Aria, I didn’t want it to affect our sisterly relationship. “Of course.” With my permission, Aria was as happy as a child. We lay side by side in bed when an inappropriate question suddenly escaped my lips. “Aria, what kind of person do you think Quinn is?” She seemed surprised but still answered. “Someone excellent in every way.” It was high praise. An even more inappropriate question burst out. “If someone like that loved you, would you accept him?” She fell silent. Just when I thought she wouldn’t answer, I heard her response. “No.” Rationality returned. I said nothing more. The breathing beside me gradually became even. I still had no desire to sleep. So when her phone vibrated, I heard the sound and glanced over. [It’s getting cold. Cover yourself with the blanket at night.] I couldn’t be more familiar with that contact name, yet such detailed care felt utterly foreign to me.

My mother-in-law, Rachel Harper, heard I had taken the baby back to my parents’ house and called to check on me. “Claire, did Quinn bully you? Did he hurt you? Tell me, and I’ll back you up” The unconditional support I didn’t get from my own mother, my mother-in-law gave me. But similarly, my conflict with Quinn wasn’t appropriate to tell her. I couldn’t find a suitable answer, so I stayed silent. Rachel seemed to have endless patience with me. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I’ll have Quinn come apologize to you.” She asked about the baby’s condition before hanging up. Perhaps Rachel pressed him hard, because Quinn came to the Hayes house that very evening. My parents received him warmly. Though I didn’t like it, I understood. The Hayes family’s alliance with the Harper family was truly the Hayes marrying up. At the dinner table, Quinn acted like a dutiful husband, taking care of me. My parents nodded approvingly. But I noticed with sharp sensitivity that he kept rotating the lazy Susan. After observing for a while, I finally understood his purpose. Aria loved shrimp. Every time Quinn rotated the lazy Susan, it was to position the shrimp in front of her. I looked down at the various foods in my bowl, my lips curling into a bitter smile. Quinn seemed to be caring for me, but he didn’t even know what I liked or disliked eating. Yet he precisely understood Aria’s preferences and was willing to care for her so discreetly. This meal once again became impossible for me to swallow. I got up and left the table. As I went upstairs, my parents were apologizing to Quinn for my rudeness. Quinn agreed to stay the night. My sister moved back to her own room. I deliberately avoided thinking about why he was willing to stay. Closing the door, we each did our own things without communication. When sleeping, we automatically maintained a clear boundary between us. In the middle of the night, I heard my son crying and got up, covering my aching head. The space beside me was already empty. When I reached over, not even a trace of warmth remained. After feeding and soothing the baby back to sleep, I put on a jacket and left the room. I finally found Quinn on the third-floor balcony—but he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was Aria. The deep night was quiet enough that their low voices reached my ears clearly. “Aria has been wronged. Even though she won’t say it, I know she’s unhappy.” “I heard the Hayes family is arranging a match for you. What do you think?” The two of them talked past each other in conversation that was absurd yet natural. “You know she has postpartum depression. Why don’t you care more about her?” “As long as you say you’re unwilling, I guarantee no one can force you into an arranged marriage.” A moment of silence. The two faced each other, more like a confrontation. I stood in the shadows, watching this scene, feeling only absurdity. When Quinn couldn’t hold back any longer and closed the distance, pulling Aria into his embrace, I fled in humiliation. The next day, I took my son and returned to the Harper house with Quinn. When leaving, Aria expressed concern and reluctance as always. But this time, I avoided the hand she tried to hold. Back at the Harper house, I discovered the study had a new password lock. Quinn came home later and later. He no longer shared my room or communicated with me. Every day when he came home, he would glance at the baby, then lock himself in the study. His presence in this house was almost nonexistent. My marriage felt like just a dream. But life remained tedious, and the baby still cried. Then at a certain moment, without any trigger, I exploded. I grabbed a hammer and smashed the study’s password lock like a madwoman. In that moment, I couldn’t hear my son’s cries—only a devil whispering in my ear. “Smash it. Smash this damned life to pieces”

I charged into the study like a bandit, brazenly invading Quinn’s territory. On the bookshelf was a photo album, its cover worn from frequent handling. Inside were all photos of Aria. I looked toward the rocking chair by the study’s floor-to-ceiling window, as if seeing Quinn sitting there every night, obsessively flipping through the album. In the first layer of the right-hand drawer of the desk was a diary. It recorded Quinn’s daily life and moods—none of which involved me. Tears had long blurred my vision, but like a greedy prospector, I hoped to find treasure about myself on the next page. Until I turned to the day I first burst into the study. That day’s entry had only one sentence. [If only I had been the one to die. If only she were your wife.] I was absolutely certain this “she” referred to me. Good news: I finally found myself in his diary. Bad news: In his diary, I had lost him. In this moment, I could no longer deceive myself. The guesses I deliberately avoided, the clues I intentionally ignored—they now struck me with vengeful force. Rachel said Quinn loved astronomy most, but when I gave him a telescope, his expression was flat. The dignified, steady Harper Corporation CEO had a study full of collectible figures and every type of gaming console. I still remembered when I agreed to the marriage contract, Quinn had pulled his lips into a smile. Looking back now on that day’s smile, it hid regret and helplessness. I walked to the portrait in the center of the study, carefully examining that face so similar to Quinn’s. He had a mole at the corner of his eye—but Quinn’s eye corner also had one. I took out my phone and sent Rachel a message. She replied quickly. “Kieran didn’t have a mole at his eye corner. Claire, why are you suddenly asking me this?” I used my last shred of rationality to construct a white lie. “I found an old photo of the two brothers at home. Just curious.” I picked up the portrait and walked to the rocking chair by the window, studying the person in the photo under the sunlight. Soon, Quinn got word from the housekeeper and rushed home. The study had been torn apart by me. I thought he would be even more furious than last time. Unexpectedly, he only instructed the housekeeper to take care of the baby, then silently walked to my side and crouched down. I turned my head, my gaze falling on the corner of his right eye. A brown dot, perfectly shaped, evenly colored. It fit all the characteristics of a tattooed beauty mark. My heart felt pierced by an invisible arrow. As blood gushed out, tears burst forth like a breached dam. Complex emotions flashed through Quinn’s—no, Kieran’s—eyes, including reluctance. He didn’t question or explain. Everything seemed understood without words. But his silent admission, without any defense, felt like an unfair trial. The oppressive atmosphere tortured me like cruel punishment. I could no longer hold on and fainted. When I woke again, I was lying in bed with an IV drip in my hand. No one was in the room. The sunlight was bright, yet I felt no warmth. I pulled out the needle and walked barefoot on the floor, feeling coldness rise from my feet through my body. I walked to the nursery. My son was sleeping, the housekeeper resting wearily beside the bed. As if sensing my approach, my son suddenly opened his eyes. He looked at me and broke into a smile. In that moment, I felt like I was seeing an angel smiling at me. Looking at my son’s smile, I made a decision. I went out and came back with a document. When Kieran came home, I stopped him. “Kieran.” This was our first exchange in a week. Then I said the second sentence. “Let’s get divorced.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367828”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #狼人Werewolf

My sister’s birthday fell on a National Day of Mourning. I bought a big cake and came home to celebrate with her. She made a wish to become a famous journalist like me. I joked that saying wishes out loud makes them not come true. The next second, my mother shoved my face into the cake. “How can you curse your sister like that?” I knew there was no point arguing with my mother, who always favored my sister, so I stood up to wash my face. But my sister grabbed my arm. ” Madison, Mom’s just joking. Getting some cake on your face on a birthday is good luck!” My mother scolded me for making a big deal out of nothing. My boyfriend also urged me to sit down and eat. But I was about to go live for the moment of silence! The phone rang. My sister quickly answered the video call. Millions of viewers in the livestream saw me with a face full of pink frosting. I got cyberbullied for “disrespecting the deceased.” When I walked out of the TV station, I was killed by a bereaved family member who ran me over with their car. The day after my death, I watched my sister, who had just graduated from college, walk into the TV station. “Hello everyone, I’m Jessica. I will absolutely uphold journalistic ethics!” Starting over, I stood at the front door with the cake and my boyfriend.

“Madison!” The door flew open and Jessica threw herself at me, giving me a solid hug. She wore the light pink dress I’d just bought her last week. Her makeup was perfectly natural, making her look innocent and pure. “Happy birthday.” I shivered and pushed her away. “Madison, are you in a bad mood?” Jessica’s mouth turned down. The smell of braised pork filled the house. The dining table was already set, with a space in the center reserved for the cake. “Madison, I’ve been waiting for you all day.” Jessica’s tone carried a hint of grievance. “Mom said you had to work overtime. I thought you’d forgotten my birthday.” “How… how could I? Sorry, I’ve been really tired lately!” I smiled stiffly while apologizing and looked around the living room. Everything was exactly as I remembered— The walls were covered with various artistic photos of Jessica from childhood to now. My photos consisted of only a tiny family portrait in the corner, taken when I was in middle school. My mother’s favoritism was never hidden. After Jessica was born, my mother suffered severe postpartum depression and almost strangled the baby in her crib. Although she recovered, she always felt she owed her younger daughter, so she compensated with double the affection. “Madison, guess what I’m wishing for?” Jessica, her face lighting up again, leaned close to my ear. I turned to look at her and suddenly remembered what she’d said before cutting the cake in my past life— “I hope to become a famous journalist like my sister!” Back then, I’d joked, “Saying your wish out loud means it won’t come true.” Then the next second, my mother had shoved my face into the cake. “How can you curse your sister like that?” Now, Jessica’s eyes sparkled as she looked at me, waiting for my answer. “Sorry, I can’t guess.” In the dining room, Nathan had already helped set out the plates and cutlery. My mother turned off the TV, and the room suddenly became quiet. “Make a wish! Make a wish!” Nathan laughed and cheered. Jessica put her palms together and closed her eyes. A few seconds later, she opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew out the candles. “What did you wish for?” my mother asked indulgently. Jessica glanced at me, then smiled and said: “I hope—to become an outstanding journalist like my sister!” Here it comes. Word for word, just like my past life. The smile on my mother’s face faded a bit. She glanced at me, her eyes full of expectation. Expectation that I would say something. Expecting me to encourage my sister as usual. To say “You can definitely do it,” or “You’re much better than me.” Nathan was also watching me. The room suddenly became terrifyingly quiet. I picked up the knife, cut the first slice of cake, and handed it to her. “Then work hard.” “Madison…” Jessica froze, then her voice became somewhat aggrieved. “Do you think I can’t do it?” My mother’s face immediately darkened. She slammed her cutlery down on the table with a bang.

“Madison, can’t you speak properly? Jessica is your sister. Can’t you encourage her more?” “I am encouraging her.” I looked up, my expression innocent. “I told her to work hard. Isn’t that encouragement?” The atmosphere was tense. Nathan quickly tried to smooth things over: “Alright, alright, it’s Jessica’s birthday today. Let’s not talk about this. Come on, let’s eat. The food smells amazing.” The meal was very quiet, with only the soft sound of cutlery hitting plates. I kept my head down eating while counting the time in my mind. Seven thirty-five. “I need to take a call.” I picked up my phone and walked toward the balcony. “You have work this late?” My mother muttered behind me. On the balcony, I opened my phone’s front camera and adjusted the angle to make sure I could see the glass door behind me through the screen. Seven forty. The glass door was gently pushed open, and a figure quietly walked in. It was Jessica. She was holding the plastic base of the cake box with the remaining half of the cake on it. She tiptoed in like a cat, approaching. I stared at my phone screen, calculating the distance. Three steps. Two steps. One step. Just before her hand touched my shoulder, I suddenly turned around and swung my hand— “Ah!” The entire cake smashed onto Jessica’s face! Pink frosting, strawberry sauce, chocolate chips—all over her face, her hair, her dress, everywhere. She froze completely. “Wah wah wah, Madison—I just wanted to play a joke—” Tears streamed down Jessica’s face. “Jessica!” My mother screamed and rushed over. Nathan followed. “Madison! What are you doing!” My mother pushed me aside and frantically wiped the frosting off Jessica’s face. I immediately stepped back two paces, leaning against the railing with my hand clutching my chest. My breathing was rapid, my face pale. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” My voice trembled. “I didn’t mean to… I’ve been followed recently. When someone approaches me from behind, it’s a reflex…” “What do you mean, followed?” Nathan frowned. “An… an interviewee’s family member.” I spoke incoherently. “He said my report was inaccurate and ruined his family business… He’s been following me for days. Yesterday he cornered me downstairs… I just felt someone behind me. I was terrified. I really…” I covered my face, my shoulders starting to shake. Actually, I was hiding my face to suppress my laughter. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” My mother’s voice softened a bit but still carried anger. “But you still shouldn’t treat your sister like this. Look, you ruined her new dress!” “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Jessica…” I squeezed out a few tears and cried while reaching for Jessica’s hand. “I’ll buy you a new one, ten new ones… I really didn’t mean it. I was so scared…” She was still crying, but the sobs were quieter. Then the phone rang. I looked up at Jessica. Her face was still covered in frosting, and my mother was frantically wiping it off. Nathan stood to the side, his brow furrowed. After hanging up the call, I said with a crying voice: “The station notified me. I have to go online now… I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, Jessica. I’ll explain everything to you later…”

I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door. Seven fifty. The livestream started. I and several other colleagues bowed our heads in silence before the camera. Three minutes. Complete silence. Eight o’clock. The livestream ended. When I came out of the bathroom, the atmosphere in the living room was heavy. Jessica had cleaned herself up and changed clothes, but her eyes were still red. She sat on the sofa without a word. My mother was grimly cleaning up the mess on the dining table, the plates clanking loudly. Nathan was smoking on the balcony, his silhouette radiating irritation. “Mom, Jessica, I’m really sorry about earlier.” I walked over with my head down. “I’ve been under too much stress lately. That person who’s been following me…” “Enough!” My mother interrupted me, throwing the dishcloth into the sink. “Today is Jessica’s birthday! What’s the point of you constantly talking about your work?” “Mom, don’t be like this!” Jessica looked up and forced a smile. “Madison didn’t mean it. She said someone’s been following her. Madison, are you okay? Should you report it to the police?” “I already reported it, but it didn’t help.” I sat down next to her and held her hand. “Did I scare you? I’ll take you to buy a new dress tomorrow. And the cake—I’ll order a new one…” “No need.” Jessica withdrew her hand, her smile fading. “I’m a bit tired. I want to sleep early.” She stood up and went back to her room. My mother glanced at me: “You should go to bed early too. You look terrible. I can’t handle it if something happens to you.” Nathan stubbed out his cigarette and came in. “I’ll drive you home.” “No need. I want to spend time with Jessica.” He looked at me for a few seconds and nodded. “Alright then. Call me if you need anything.” After he left, the house became completely quiet. My mother finished cleaning the kitchen and returned to her room. I was left alone in the living room. In my past life on this day, I was cyberbullied because of the livestream incident. Three days later, I was fired by the TV station. As I walked out of the TV station, I was killed by a bereaved family member who ran me over with their car. The day after my death, Jessica, a new graduate with no experience, became one of the TV station’s star journalists. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Nathan: “I’m home. Don’t overthink. Get some sleep.” I didn’t reply. Another message: “About Jessica, I’ll go smooth things over with her tomorrow. Young girls love to throw tantrums.” I looked at this message and suddenly smiled. How did I not notice this in my past life? That familiar, matter-of-fact tone, as if Jessica were someone important to him. “No need. I’ll handle it.” After returning home, I replied with those words. Then I opened my contacts and found a number. “Officer Miller, this is Madison. There’s something I’d like to ask for your help with.” “Ms. Walsh? What do you need investigated? If I can help, I absolutely will!” “Thank you. I’d like you to investigate someone for me…” After hanging up, I opened my social media feed. Jessica had posted half an hour ago: “Another year older. Going to become even more amazing” The photo showed the table full of dishes my mother made. In the corner, you could see half of Nathan’s hand. A mutual friend commented below: “Wow, your brother-in-law came over for dinner again?” Jessica replied with a shy emoji. A few days later, near the end of the workday, my phone rang. It was my mother. “Madison, come home early today. Jessica has something to announce.” “What is it?” “You’ll know when you get here. It’s good news.” My mother’s tone was cheerful.

I hung up and looked at the photo on my computer screen. Nathan’s hand rested on Jessica’s shoulder in an intimate gesture. Good news? That evening when I got home and opened the door, I smelled the aroma of food. Jessica was wearing an apron helping my mother in the kitchen. Nathan sat on the sofa watching TV. “Madison, you’re home!” Jessica poked her head out of the kitchen, her smile sweet. “Dinner’s almost ready!” My mother brought out the last dish, her face beaming with unconcealed joy. “Come, everyone sit down. We’re celebrating today.” “Celebrating what?” I put down my bag. Jessica untied her apron, her cheeks slightly flushed: “Madison, I found a job.” My heart sank, but I smiled on the surface: “Really? What job?” “TV station, news department, journalist position.” She looked at me excitedly. “Same department as you.” “Same department?” I repeated it. “Nathan helped recommend me.” My mother beamed and gave Nathan a piece of pork rib. “Thanks to him, Jessica got such a great opportunity. Madison, you’ll have to take good care of your sister at work from now on.” Nathan smiled modestly. “Don’t say that. It’s mainly because Jessica is outstanding herself. She did well in the interview.” “But someone still needs to give her the opportunity.” Jessica looked at him with admiring eyes. I picked up my cutlery and took some greens: “When did this happen? How come I didn’t hear the station was hiring?” “It’s a special recruitment.” Nathan said. “The station has been reforming recently and wants to bring in fresh blood. I mentioned Jessica to Director Hayes, and he thought it was a good idea, so he gave her a chance.” Director Hayes. Head of the news department. An old classmate of Nathan’s father. “Jessica has no experience. Won’t going straight into the news department be too much pressure?” I slowly chewed the greens. “Should she start as an intern first?” Jessica’s smile faded. My mother immediately glared. “With you guiding her, what pressure could there be? Didn’t you also start at the TV station right after graduating from college?” “Back then, I went through campus recruitment, passed five rounds of written tests and interviews.” “Jessica also interviewed.” Nathan started smoothing things over again. “And with you as her sister, how could she not learn? Madison, don’t be so strict.” I looked at the three of them. My mother with her “don’t be difficult” face. Jessica looking aggrieved. Nathan with his “I’m helping you” face. “Fine.” I suddenly smiled. “Then welcome aboard. I’ll take you to process your onboarding tomorrow.” Jessica’s eyes lit up again. “Thank you, Madison!” “But,” I added, “The news department is highly competitive with many rules. Since you’re coming in through special recruitment, many people will be watching you. Perform well. Don’t embarrass your recommender.” I was saying this to Jessica, but also to Nathan. His smile didn’t change: “Naturally.” On Jessica’s first day, she brought gifts for everyone in the news department. Designer lipstick for the female colleagues, phones for the male colleagues. An expensive watch for the director. “Just a small token. I hope everyone will take care of me.” She smiled innocently. The colleagues naturally all said nice things. A few female colleagues who were already jealous of me pulled her aside asking questions, comparing us in their words. “Jessica has a much better personality than Madison. Madison always has that cold face, like someone owes her money.” “Yeah, Madison is much more likable.” Jessica looked embarrassed. “My sister is just professional. I still have a lot to learn from her.” I sat at my workstation organizing today’s interview outline, pretending not to hear. During lunch break, the director called me into his office. “Madison, now that your sister is here, you as her older sister should help guide her more.” Director Hayes was a bit overweight and his eyes narrowed into slits when he smiled. “She has no experience. Please look after her more.” “I will,” I said. “Also, about next month’s exclusive interview, it was originally scheduled for you. But Nathan told me he wants to give Jessica a chance to practice. What do you think…” “Then give it to her.” I readily agreed. Director Hayes was a bit surprised. “You agree?” “Newcomers need opportunities, don’t they?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367829”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #狼人Werewolf

On Valentine’s Day, a hotel caught fire and called for emergency rescue. I went to fight the fire, only to find my wife with another man. Both of them were completely naked, wrapped only in a bedsheet. The man asked Lucy: “Aren’t you afraid Ethan will find out? I heard he’s a firefighter.” Lucy laughed coquettishly. “He’s away for training. He won’t find out. I haven’t had enough fun with you yet. Let’s switch hotels.” The next second, my phone received a message from Lucy: “Honey, I’m at the salon getting a hair treatment. I’ll be home later.” At that moment, I finally let her go. As soon as I got back to the station, my wife Lucy called. “Honey, why didn’t you reply to me?” I used to reply to Lucy’s messages instantly. Now that I hadn’t replied, she called directly. Thinking about how I’d call her and she’d only answer when she felt like it, or just ignore it—I’d been too much of a doormat. “I was busy,” I replied flatly. On the other end, I could faintly hear a small voice: “Your husband doesn’t suspect you, does he?” Even though Lucy covered the phone, I could still make out her voice: “Impossible. I’m the one he trusts most.” The bed creaked and squeaked. She couldn’t suppress the soft gasps escaping her lips: “Slower.” I felt disgusted. “Is there anything else?” Lucy tried hard to steady her voice: “I made your favorite pizza. It’s in the fridge. Remember to microwave it when you eat.” “Oh, and since your stomach isn’t great, don’t drink anything cold. I left medicine in the drawer for you…” The assault on the other end intensified. Lucy was practically trembling as she said, “Ethan, wait for me to come home,” before the phone fell to the ground. “Aren’t you afraid Ethan will find out?” Lucy’s voice turned cold: “You and I are just having fun. If you dare tell Ethan, we’re done immediately!” I had no interest in hearing about Lucy’s love for me. After hanging up, I went home. In our six years of marriage, I’d given her enough respect and love. Looking at our wedding photo hanging prominently in the living room, I only felt mockery. When Lucy got home, I was taking down the wedding photo. The flush on her cheeks hadn’t faded. Seeing me remove the photo, she only paused briefly. Then she said naturally, “I’ve been thinking this photo looks outdated too. We should keep up with the times.” She came over and took my arm, her eyes bright: “Ryan just got me a discount package at his studio. Let’s go take new photos together.” Without giving me a chance to refuse, she went straight to the kitchen to heat up food for me. In the past, whenever I heard Ryan’s name, I’d always ask questions. But this time I said nothing, which made Lucy uncomfortable instead. “Aren’t you going to ask why he gave me a discount package?” I paused writing my report. Without looking up, I said, “You two have known each other since college. I’ve helped him so much—it’s normal for him to give you a discount.” This was the excuse Lucy used to brush me off before. Now that I said it, she actually thought I hadn’t discovered anything and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh right, Ethan, go get your medicine from the drawer. You need to take it on time.” I had no reason to neglect my health. Just then, her phone screen lit up on the table. “Baby, is he satisfied with the food and medicine I prepared for him?” My heart turned cold. So Lucy’s thoughtfulness had all been an act. Before I could look away, Lucy rushed over frantically. “Ethan, we agreed to trust each other and not look at each other’s phones!” The pot she was holding pressed against my skin without hesitation, instantly burning it red. I grunted. Just as I was about to turn and get some ointment, Lucy beat me to it and offered to take me to the hospital. “I heard there’s a doctor at the hospital who’s really good at treating burns.” I looked at Lucy, but she avoided my eyes. I clenched my fist, not exposing her lie: “Alright, let’s go check it out.”

At the hospital, Lucy stayed with me the whole time, running around getting my registration done. Only before the medication was applied did she find an excuse to leave. I had the nurse wait a moment, then followed her all the way to a consultation room door. “How does it feel sneaking around with me? You just love the thrill, don’t you?” So that’s why Lucy suddenly offered to bring me to the hospital—because Ryan was here. I turned to leave, but Lucy’s next words made my heart skip. “The medicine I gave him doesn’t have side effects, right? I want to get pregnant with your baby.” “After all, my heart belongs to him, but my body belongs to you.” “But the medicine can’t hurt Ethan.” So the stomach medicine I’d been taking was actually birth control pills? With trembling hands, I took out the pill bottle from my pocket. Only under the light could I see the switched label. Pressing my lips together, I slowly peeled away the outer label. The side effects written inside made my heart lurch! I walked back to the treatment room in a daze. After a long wait, a doctor finally came to change my dressing. When I looked up, it was Ryan! Lucy stood beside him: “Ethan, Ryan is so skilled at changing dressings. I had such a hard time getting him to come treat you.” Really? Should I thank him? I forced a bitter smile, unable to say anything. Lucy pulled on Ryan’s sleeve, urging him to change my dressing. Throughout the whole process, they were the ones who acted like a married couple. Ryan’s movements were rough and forceful. My perfectly fine wound was torn open. I frowned and tried to pull my hand back, but Ryan used the opportunity to fall to the ground. Lucy’s brow furrowed. Without mercy, she struck my arm hard: “Ethan, I really thought you and Ryan had made peace.” “I didn’t expect you to pull such a dirty trick!” Then, ignoring the blood flowing down my arm, she rushed to help Ryan up. Her eyes showed heartache. She used to only feel sorry for me—I don’t know when that changed to Ryan. Watching her bustle around, practically wanting to feel the pain for him, I smiled sarcastically: “Lucy, let’s get divorced.” Only then did she notice my bleeding. Her expression went blank. “I’m sorry, honey. I was too hasty and overlooked you.” Then she said righteously, “Besides, weren’t you the one who pushed Ryan?!” I laughed in anger, pointing at the camera overhead: “Lucy, say it again—did I push him, or did he fall on his own?” Ryan’s tears welled up in his eyes, falling at just the right moment when Lucy looked at him: “Lucy, you don’t need to say anything. Ethan didn’t push me.” “It was… it was me who couldn’t stand steady and fell.” With his crying, Lucy, who had been hesitant, instantly turned cold. “Ethan, have you made enough of a scene?” “I just brought you here to treat a burn. Ryan is so busy he can’t even eat, yet he came to help you, and this is how you treat him? How you treat me?” Seeing Lucy so furious, desperately wanting to clear Ryan’s name and fight for his justice—so different from how she once promised to be good to me forever. I calmly pointed at her clothes: “Lucy, do you really think I’m stupid?” I smiled coldly: “Too busy to even eat, but had time to take off your clothes?”

I thought Lucy would feel ashamed, but instead she spoke righteously: “What’s wrong with me having Ryan examine me?” “Ethan, don’t assume I’m having an affair with Ryan just because you see us together.” “There’s nothing between Ryan and me. If there could be something with him, would it be your turn?!” If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have been fooled by Lucy’s performance. In the past, it was precisely because Lucy always spoke about Ryan so openly that I trusted her consistently for six years. People who didn’t know the truth were already starting to criticize me along with Lucy. “This wife so kindly ran around getting him registered and treated, but he turned around and accused his own wife of having an affair with a nurse. What a sin.” “Yeah, how does someone like that deserve such a good wife? I say they should just divorce.” I took a deep breath, not wanting to argue with Lucy in public. But she thought I felt guilty, and with so many people supporting her, she became smug. Yet she still had to put on a show in front of everyone: “Alright, Ethan, I know you’re jealous because you still love me.” “How about this—if you just apologize to Ryan, I’ll take you to another nurse to get your dressing changed. How’s that?” Lucy spoke to me as if bestowing a favor. She always relied on my love for her, pushing my boundaries further and further. But she didn’t know my boundaries had limits too. I used to back down, but not this time. Even Ryan put on a magnanimous act, waving his hand at me: “That’s right, Ethan, just apologize to me.” Ryan’s gaze was challenging as he waved his hand, and I noticed his ring and bracelet. The ring was identical to mine, except it was engraved with his and Lucy’s initials instead. And the bracelet… I pointed at the bracelet on Ryan’s wrist in disbelief, asking Lucy with a trembling voice, “Is that the bracelet I gave you?” The safety bracelet was left to me by my family. It had accompanied me through several fires, keeping me safe each time. Later, when Lucy was hospitalized and the doctor said she wouldn’t make it, I emptied all my savings to save her. I even gave her the safety bracelet, hoping it would keep her safe. But I never imagined that one day, this bracelet would end up on Ryan’s wrist. Lucy knew what the bracelet meant to me. She had once promised me that even if the sky fell, she would never lose it. She even said that no matter where she went or what she did, she would always wear it. But now… Lucy froze for a moment, then reacted quickly: “That’s because Ryan is a nurse. The bracelet is more useful for him.” “You’ve been fine so many times without it. Giving it to someone who needs it more fulfills its purpose.” Her eyes darted away: “Ethan, you understand, don’t you?” I didn’t answer. Instead, I asked her, “Where’s the cloak you were wearing?” I quietly watched her momentary panic, then pointed to her neck, her arms, her thighs. All marks that Ryan had left on her body. “Lucy, we’re done. Let’s divorce.” I dropped that sentence and turned to leave the room. I found a new doctor to change my dressing myself, then reported to my supervisor to confirm my transfer location early. I thought things with Lucy would end quickly, but I didn’t expect her to show up at my workplace.

“Ethan, it’s not my place to say, but you and Lucy have been together for so long.” “Now you’re not going home just because of an argument—isn’t that inappropriate?” My supervisor held the form, saying in a tone that brooked no refusal: “Lucy was so anxious she came to the station to file a report. Here’s what we’ll do—I’m authorizing you to go take new wedding photos with her.” When I arrived at the photography studio, Lucy had been waiting for me for a while. “Ethan, listen to me. That day was all a misunderstanding. Those marks were from Ryan giving me therapy.” As soon as she saw me, she couldn’t wait to explain. I just nodded faintly, not even looking at her. Like a puppet on strings, I did whatever the photographer told me to do. Finally, the photographer couldn’t help it and poked his head out: “The groom needs to lean closer to the bride. You’re taking your seventh-anniversary photos—why are you still so stiff?” When Lucy and I took our first wedding photos, we only had eyes for each other. But now, everything had changed. During the break, Lucy secretly slipped me a box: “Ethan, open it and look.” I didn’t need to open it to know—this was a watch I’d once said I liked. At the time, Lucy always made excuses about not having time to buy it for me. Eventually, I saw it on Ryan’s wrist. Now she was finally giving it to me, but I no longer liked it. I looked away: “Lucy, after we finish shooting, let’s go get divorced.” My tone was flat, but Lucy exploded. “Ethan, when will you stop?! I even bought you your favorite watch and you’re still talking about divorce!” So she knew I loved this model. Before I could respond, an emergency call from the station came through. “Chemical plant explosion. Emergency assistance needed!” I immediately stopped worrying about Lucy and prepared to leave. Just as I was about to rush out the door, Lucy suddenly grabbed my hand. Her grip tightened. For once, she seemed reluctant to let me go. Seeing my impatient frown, her grip loosened. But in the end, she held on tight: “Ethan, come back safe.” Come back safe. This was what Lucy used to say to me every time I went on a mission. But it had been so long since she’d said it to me. Hearing it suddenly, I felt momentarily dazed. But quickly, I adjusted my mindset and prepared to depart. [Chemical plant about to explode! Will the dangerous rescue succeed?!] The headlines on her phone grew bigger and bigger, gripping Lucy’s heart tightly. Her eyes looked somewhat vacant. She suddenly felt that letting Ethan go this time was the wrong decision. Even Ryan’s call seemed insignificant at this moment, but eventually she still answered. “Lucy, if Ethan disappeared, would you come love me?” Ryan was breathing heavily on the other end, as if he’d just been running. Lucy didn’t catch on immediately: “What?” Ryan repeated: “I said, if Ethan dies, can you marry me?” “I just set fire to the chemical plant. Ethan will definitely go rescue people, so then…” A thunderous boom sounded in the distance. Thick black smoke billowed upward. The blood-red light on the horizon was like an extremely dangerous signal, shining into her eyes and gripping her heart hard. She suddenly let out a terrible scream, tears quickly flooding her eyes: “Ethan!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367820”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic

When Ethan’s family went bankrupt, I stayed with him in that basement apartment, working three jobs a day to pay off his debts. When he made his comeback, he promised during his proposal to give me a real home. In our third year of marriage, I accidentally saw the deed to our house. The owner’s name listed was his first love. He explained with reddened eyes, “This is what I owe her.” I nodded and pushed toward him photos of the mountain of debt collection notices that had once covered our entire table in that cramped basement. “You’ve repaid what you owed her with the house. So what about what you owe me?” I gently pushed the property deed toward Ethan. “Owner: Lauren.” Ethan’s face instantly turned deathly pale. He instinctively moved to take the paper back, his hand freezing mid-air. “Sophia, let me explain…” His voice was hoarse, his eyes quickly reddening. An expression I knew all too well. Whenever he felt he’d wronged me, he would show this innocent, vulnerable look. Once upon a time, I fell for it every single time. “Go ahead. I’m listening.” I picked up my glass of water, my tone eerily calm. He looked at me, a flash of panic crossing his eyes, as if my composure had caught him off guard. “Lauren… she’s not doing well.” He began with difficulty. “Back then, my parents opposed us and forcibly tore us apart. Because of that, she developed severe depression, had to take a long break from school. It completely destroyed her.” “So this house is my way of compensating her. Sophia, this is what I owe her.” I nodded, indicating I understood. “And what about what you owe me?” Ethan froze, as if he hadn’t understood my words. I stopped looking at him and pulled out my phone, finding a photo I’d treasured for years. It was taken in the basement apartment we’d rented-barely a hundred square feet. On a shabby folding table, debt collection notices were piled so thick you could barely see the surface. In the corner of the photo, you could still see his face, worn down by despair. “You’ve repaid what you owed her with the house. So what about what you owe me?” He looked down at the photo, his body trembling violently. The image seemed to remind him of those memories-of struggling together through unbearable hardship. To pay off the astronomical debts the family owed, I’d quit my stable job and worked three jobs a day. For those three years, I slept less than four hours a night. Once, when I had a high fever, I didn’t go to the hospital to save money. I just buried myself under blankets and nearly developed pneumonia. Ethan had held me and cried like a child, swearing he would give me a real home and never let me suffer again. He’d kept his promise. He made his comeback and became a rising star in the business world. He also gave me a home-a home with someone else’s name on it. “Sophia.” Ethan raised his head, guilt practically overflowing from his eyes. “I know. The person I’ve wronged the most is you. But Lauren and I are over. The one I love is you. You’re the only wife I’ll ever have.” “I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, okay?” He reached out to take my hand, his tone almost pleading. “Lauren has already lost me. She can’t be left with nothing. This house-consider it my way of putting our past to rest.” I gently avoided his hand. “Alright. I understand.” Seeing I wasn’t making a scene, his expression visibly relaxed. He thought I’d accepted this absurd explanation. Meanwhile, I took out my phone and silently messaged my lawyer, asking her to draft divorce papers as soon as possible.

Ethan paused, then spoke hesitantly. “Sophia, can I discuss something with you?” “It’s just… Lauren had some conflict with her landlord and got kicked out. She can’t find a suitable place right away.” “So, could we let her stay at our place for a while? Just as a temporary arrangement.” I almost laughed from sheer rage. Was Ethan’s brain damaged? “Do you think that’s appropriate?” I asked coldly. “What’s inappropriate about it?” His voice immediately carried a trace of impatience. “Sophia, why have you become so petty? I told you, Lauren and I are in the past. You’re the only one in my heart.” “She’s a woman all alone, helpless out there. What’s wrong with us helping her?” “Don’t worry, I would never betray you!” He spoke with such conviction. But he’d already betrayed me. The moment he decided to give our home to another woman. “Ethan,” I said each word deliberately, “in your eyes, am I some kind of worthless person?” “Do you think that because I suffered through all that hardship with you, I deserve to be trampled on like this?” He fell silent. After a long pause, he said wearily, “Sophia, don’t overthink it. I’m just helping a friend. This is settled. I’m going to pick her up now.” With that, he walked straight out the door. Hearing the door slam shut, I closed my eyes and forced back the stinging sensation rising to them. Shedding tears over a worthless man wasn’t worth it. Just then, Ethan’s mother Grace called me. “Sophia dear, it’s the weekend tomorrow. Come back to the estate with Ethan for dinner.” Grace had always been good to me. I couldn’t refuse, so I agreed. “Alright, Grace.” After hanging up, I looked out at the darkening sky, my heart cold as ice. The next day, I went alone to the appointment. The family estate had been mortgaged and auctioned off when the family went bankrupt. Later, when Ethan made his comeback, he wanted to buy back the house that held his childhood memories, but the new owner refused no matter what. It was me who’d showed up at the door with gifts again and again, spending three full months wearing down that eccentric retired professor. Only then did he agree to sell the house back to us at the original price. When Grace saw only me arrive, she frowned. “Where’s Ethan? Busy with his nonsense again?” “The company had a last-minute meeting. He’ll be here later.” I made an excuse for him. Grace took my hand and led me to sit on the sofa, sighing. “Sophia, don’t cover for him. I’ve heard about what he’s been doing lately.” My heart skipped a beat. “Is he getting tangled up with that Lauren woman again?” Grace’s eyes sharpened. “I warned him long ago that woman has ulterior motives and isn’t decent. I told him to stay away!” I lowered my head without speaking. Grace patted the back of my hand, her tone full of sympathy. “Dear child, I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer. Don’t worry-the only daughter-in-law the family recognizes is you. If he dares do anything to betray you, I’ll be the first to break his legs!” Warmth spread through my chest as I forced a smile. “It’s fine.” Just then, Ethan arrived. When he saw me, his expression darkened. He was clearly displeased that I’d arrived before him. “Mom, did you call Sophia back here to complain about me again?” His opening words were loaded with hostility. Grace was so angry she grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at him. “You ungrateful wretch, what are you saying? Is Sophia that kind of person? If she’d said even half a bad word about you to me, I wouldn’t have let you through that door today!” “Then what is it?” Ethan impatiently loosened his tie. “If she didn’t say anything, how would you know about Lauren?” “Do I need her to tell me?” Grace laughed coldly. “You arranged for that woman to work at your company as your personal assistant. You practically want the whole company to know about your little affair. Do you think I’m blind?” Bitterness welled up inside me.

The day he left the house, he’d wasted no time bringing Lauren home to live with us. After that, he arranged for her to join the company, keeping her right by his side. Afterward, he’d offered a hollow explanation: “Lauren just joined the company. She’ll adapt faster if I show her the ropes.” Ethan was left speechless, his face cycling between shades of red and white. He took a deep breath, clearly too lazy to argue further, and stated bluntly: “Lauren’s waiting outside. I’m having her bring in an urgent document.” Without waiting for our response, he turned and opened the door. Lauren timidly followed him inside, wearing a pure white dress that made her look pitifully fragile. When she saw Grace, she reacted like a startled deer, instinctively hiding behind Ethan. Ethan immediately shielded Lauren, addressing his mother. “She’s just here to deliver documents. Don’t look at her like you’re going to eat her alive. You’ll frighten her.” I looked at Ethan like he was an idiot. Lauren spoke up from the side, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mr. Parker, this is a family dinner. It’s not… appropriate for me to be here. I should go.” Yet her feet seemed rooted to the spot. She didn’t move an inch. “You’re tired from delivering documents. Eat before you leave.” Without room for argument, Ethan seated her in the empty chair beside him-the seat that had been meant for me. The atmosphere at the dinner table plummeted to freezing. Grace watched Lauren’s delicate, helpless act with cold eyes, a mocking smile curling her lips. “Lauren, you don’t need to put on a show for me.” Grace set down her fork, speaking without mercy. “I can see right through your little schemes.” Lauren’s face turned deathly pale, tears pooling in her eyes. “Ma’am, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “You don’t know?” Grace laughed lightly. “Years ago, when you and Ethan were dating in college, the first time he brought you home-the moment you walked in, your eyes never left our décor.” “When you heard about our company’s scale, the greed and calculation in your eyes might as well have been written on your face!” Lauren’s entire body trembled as if she were holding back something. Ethan suddenly slammed the table and shot to his feet. “Enough!” He glared at his mother. “It’s been so many years, and you’re still like this! You’re not doing this for my sake. You just want to control my life!” “Back then, you forced us to break up, and it caused Lauren to develop depression. Don’t you feel even a shred of guilt? Now that she’s finally recovering, why do you still have to hurt her with such vicious words?” “I’m controlling you?” Grace trembled with rage. “If I really wanted to control you, I wouldn’t have let Sophia suffer alongside you when you went bankrupt! You ungrateful creature, have you forgotten who crawled out of hell with you?” “I haven’t forgotten!” Ethan shouted hoarsely, his eyes red. “I’ll spend my entire life repaying Sophia’s kindness! But that doesn’t conflict with me compensating Lauren!” With that, he grabbed the still-trembling Lauren and stormed toward the door without looking back. “Where are you going?” Grace called after him. “I can’t stay in this house anymore!” He pulled Lauren along and left in a fury. From beginning to end, he never once looked at me, never once thought to take me with him. “Sophia, don’t mind him. Let him leave!” Grace’s chest heaved with anger. She took my hand. “Stay here tonight. I’ll keep you company.” I shook my head and stood up. “I should go back.” This was between Ethan and me. I couldn’t let her completely break with her son because of me. In the courtyard, Ethan’s car hadn’t left yet. He leaned against the car door, impatiently checking his phone. Clearly, he was waiting for me. So he did remember-he’d left me behind. I walked slowly toward him. The streetlight stretched my shadow long, making it look lonely and desolate. Hearing footsteps, Ethan looked up. When he saw it was me, the impatience on his face deepened. “What took you so long? Let’s go.” He opened the car door and got into the driver’s seat. I walked to the passenger side. Before I could open the door, I heard Lauren’s pained whimper from the back seat.

“Ethan… I feel awful… I can’t breathe…” Ethan’s expression changed instantly as he leaned back to check on her. “Lauren, what’s wrong?” “I… I think… I’m having an allergic reaction to peanuts…” Lauren’s voice came in broken fragments, filled with pain. Ethan’s gaze immediately turned to me, full of accusation. “Sophia! You knew Lauren’s allergic to peanuts. Why didn’t you tell the cook ahead of time?” “I didn’t know she was allergic to peanuts.” I answered coldly. “You didn’t know?” Ethan’s volume spiked sharply. “You did it on purpose! You just can’t stand her, can you?” I was so furious I laughed. “So? What do you want? Should I take responsibility for her allergy?” “I’ll let it go this time!” Ethan said through gritted teeth. “But she’s going to be living with us from now on. Be more careful when you cook! Don’t let this happen again!” He expected me to serve her from now on? I could hardly believe my ears. Just how shameless could this man be? Before I could respond, Lauren let out another pained moan from the back seat. Ethan’s rationality shattered instantly. “No, we need to get to the hospital now!” He started the car and said urgently, “Get out!” I stood there without moving, staring at him. “You want me to walk back?” This was a wealthy suburb with extremely limited public transportation. Getting a ride at night was nearly impossible. Ethan irritably pounded the steering wheel. “The hospital and home are in opposite directions! I don’t have time to drop you off. Lauren’s condition is more urgent! Figure out your own way back. Sorry for the inconvenience!” With that, he floored the gas pedal, leaving me choking on exhaust fumes. I stood alone on the deserted road as the night wind swept past, bringing bone-chilling cold. He made it sound so easy. “Sorry for the inconvenience.” Yes, I’d truly been inconvenienced these past few years. I pulled out my phone and called his personal driver, Richard. “Richard, could you please come pick me up?” Ten minutes later, Richard’s car arrived. Seeing only me, he looked surprised. “Where’s Mr. Parker? Didn’t you both go to dinner together?” I opened the door and got in, saying flatly, “Something urgent came up at the company. He left first.” But inside, I was thinking coldly: He’s busy taking care of his little mistress. Shortly after I got home, my phone chimed with a message notification. I opened it, and my pupils constricted sharply. In a hotel bed, Ethan lay shirtless, sleeping soundly. His tanned skin was covered with suggestive red marks, extending from his neck down to his chest. Below the photo was a provocative message: “Sophia, Ethan’s not coming home tonight. He said only at my place can he truly relax.” So the whole “allergic reaction hospital visit” was just an excuse for them to check into a hotel. Ethan, you really are something. Expressionless, I took screenshots of the photo and message and sent them directly to my lawyer. Then I forwarded them to Ethan with the caption: “Giving her the house wasn’t enough? You had to give yourself to her too?” After receiving my message, Ethan rushed home in a panic, his face still showing traces of guilt from being caught. “Sophia, let me explain. It’s not what you think. Lauren and I…” “Shut up.” I coldly cut him off, unwilling to hear those tired old excuses. He tried to reach for my hand. “Come on, stop being upset. There’s really nothing between us.” I yanked my hand away in disgust, turned, and retrieved a thick stack of debt collection notices from the study. “Ethan, look at these!” I pointed at the notices, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Do you remember? When your family went bankrupt, I was the one who stayed with you in that basement, the one who survived on one meal a day with you!” “To pay off those millions in debt, I pawned all my jewelry. I worked in an office building during the day and waited tables at restaurants at night!” “When you were drunk and collapsed on the street, I was the one who carried you back. When your former friends humiliated you, I was the one who stood up for you and fought them! Where was Lauren then?!” “And now? You’ve made your comeback. You’re the distinguished Mr. Parker again. You get the beauty, and I become the wife who’s outlived her usefulness?” By the end, I was practically sobbing as I shouted, hurling the notices directly at his face. “What are you going to do to repay what you owe me?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367821”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic

At the banquet, my husband’s subordinate, hoping to win his favor, brought out ninety-nine women who looked just like me. “Your wife can’t have children. But these women are all fertile. Have them give birth, and let her raise the kids.” Landon Cross pulled me into his arms, his tone firm. “Yvonne is the only one I love. I will never touch another woman.” After that, I threw countless resources his way and got blood on my hands, helping him to become a billionaire. Until the seventh year, a voluptuous, fair-skinned woman showed up at my door with seven children. I recognized this woman, Chloe. She was one of those ninety-nine women from years ago, the one who looked most like me. Right in front of me, she smugly lifted her shirt and nursed her youngest child. “Seven whole years, I’ve given birth to seven boys. Landon says the company’s stock price keeps rising because I gave birth to lucky babies who brought fortune to the company.” “How could a barren hen like you deserve to be his wife?” I lit a cigarette, looked her up and down, then sent her to the black market.

By the time Landon arrived at the black market, Chloe was already worth thirty million. Her highly fertile body had caught the eye of many wealthy merchants. “I heard women like her are the most fun.” “I’m going to buy her and make her a breeding machine. Maybe my company’s stock price will rise too because of lucky babies.” These words reached Landon’s ears. His expression grew darker and darker. I merely sneered mockingly. The Cross family business grew because of the Lowell family’s investment and my ruthless methods. How could it possibly be due to a few so-called “lucky babies”? Chloe hung from the auction stage, frightening. The moment she saw Landon, her delicate ankles kicked wildly in the air. “Honey, save me! I still have our baby in my belly.” Anxiety flooded Landon’s eyes. Under everyone’s watchful gaze, he knelt on one knee beside my feet, his voice trembling. “Yvonne, please let her go. Or at least wait until she gives birth, then you can deal with her however you want.” I looked at Landon as if looking at a stranger. He had only knelt twice in his life. The first time was at my father’s hospital bed. He knelt and swore he would never betray me. My father passed away with a smile, and I became Mrs. Cross. The second time was now. Mr. Landon Cross, who appeared so lofty in front of others, begging. “It’s a girl.” “We lost a daughter once. Just think of it as our daughter being reincarnated into Chloe’s belly.” I nearly went insane. “How dare Chloe even compare!” That daughter was a child I had longed for in the first year of our marriage, after going through countless treatments. But when I was three months pregnant, Landon was kidnapped by a rival gang. I didn’t have time to wait for my men to arrive. I went alone to rescue him. But no matter how skilled I was, I couldn’t fight off that many vicious men. Those three hours were living hell. Our daughter, when removed, was already formed enough to show human features. A butterfly knife flew from my sleeve, slashing across Landon’s cheek, leaving a bloody mark. Landon seemed not to feel the pain. He shook his head helplessly. “If you’ve let off steam, stop making a scene. You’re five years older than me, why are you still acting like a child?” Seeing Landon injured, Chloe screamed frantically, ignoring that she was still hanging there. “Yvonne Lowell! My husband finds it disgusting every time he touches you…” Landon’s eyes flashed with warning, and his subordinate immediately stepped onto the auction stage and gagged Chloe. A metallic sweetness rose in my throat. My voice turned hoarse. “So, you find me disgusting.” I unconsciously touched my lower abdomen. My second child with Landon was still sleeping peacefully inside. Landon desperately tried to explain, but I felt so tired. I waved my hand. “This farce should end.” The auctioneer’s gavel fell. The wealthy merchant who won Chloe trembled with his entire body of fat as he carried her into a room. Landon’s eyes turned bloodshot. He pulled out a handgun. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three bullet holes appeared at my feet. “I’ve said everything nicely, yet you’re still so heartless. I’ll say this one last time-let Chloe go, or the next shot won’t be aimed at the floor.” I looked at him calmly, not even my eyelashes trembling. “Mr. Cross, be my guest.” If Landon dared to shoot, he would be riddled with bullets on Lowell family territory. He glared at me fiercely, then like an enraged lion, led his men charging toward Chloe. Moments later, the wealthy merchant, covered in bullet wounds, was thrown out. As Landon carried Chloe past me, his gaze was icy cold. “Thank God! Chloe’s daughter is fine. Otherwise, I wouldn’t let you off so easily.” Watching his retreating figure, I called the hospital. This child had congenital abnormalities. The doctor said there was a risk of miscarriage at any time. Now it seemed there was no need to force myself to keep it. How could such a man deserve to be a father?

I had my lawyer draft a divorce agreement. Landon would leave the marriage with nothing. Not a penny of what he’d earned over these years. I took the divorce agreement to Landon’s office. On the way, I received a call from my assistant. “Mrs. Cross, something terrible has happened! Mr. Cross brought a construction team. He says he’s going to dig up your first child’s body. He wants a priest to perform an exorcism.” After hanging up, my hands were shaking. Once, Landon and I built a cemetery for our deceased daughter, Nina, wanting to give her a sheltered home underground. Now we had become a bitter couple, but why should adult grudges involve innocent children? When I arrived at the cemetery, Nina’s coffin had been carelessly thrown on the ground. Several priests stood around, praying. I spotted Landon immediately. He was holding Chloe, tucking her messy hair behind her ear. At first glance, they looked exactly like Landon and me seven years ago. Suppressing the rage in my heart, I clutched Nina’s coffin to my chest. The priests suddenly stopped chanting and pointed at the coffin in my arms, shouting sternly. “It’s this evil spirit that has prevented Mrs. Cross from having children for years!” Chloe nestled in Landon’s arms, adding fuel to the fire. “The master is right!” Landon frowned but didn’t stop them. The priest then splashed holy water at me, instantly soaking my white clothes. But fortunately, I protected Nina’s coffin well. It didn’t get wet. I wiped the water droplets from my face and looked at Landon. He avoided my gaze, saying only in a deep voice, “I’m doing this for your own good.” I found everything absurdly ridiculous. I pulled out the divorce agreement from my document bag and threw it directly in Landon’s face. “Sign it.” Landon looked as if he’d heard something unbelievable. “You’re actually willing to divorce me? We once had a child together. We’re already inseparable. “When Chloe’s daughter is born, I’ll have her call you mom, to make up for the child we lost…” I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, they were cold and desolate. “Landon, of all your mistakes, you should never have kept using our child to provoke me.” I waved my hand. The Lowell family bodyguards behind me immediately understood. They restrained Chloe. Those burly men kicked her belly with every strike. Chloe screamed. Soon blood appeared. Landon’s eyes turned blood-red. He snatched the divorce agreement, signed his name without even looking, scrawling rapidly. “Let her go!” I clapped my hands together and laughed gleefully. I wondered if this penniless man could afford to raise his seven children after the divorce.

Landon took Chloe to the hospital. When I ran into Landon, he had just come from the direction of the operating room, his eyes bloodshot. “What are you doing here? Did you come to see if Chloe is dead? Or to watch me suffer?” I was here for a surgical checkup. I didn’t bother arguing with him and tried to walk around him. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so strong it nearly crushed my bones. “Chloe’s baby couldn’t be saved. It was a fully formed female fetus. You killed my daughter for the second time!” “Let go.” My stomach churned violently. The child in my belly, perhaps knowing its birth wasn’t welcomed, kept making me sick. Seeing me like this, Landon’s eyes reddened. “You hate my touch that much? I haven’t even said you disgust me, so why do you find me revolting?” Sharp, dull pain riddled my heart. Landon really knew me-knew exactly how to stab me where it hurt most. At that moment, a doctor approached with a report. “Mr. Cross, here are the genetic test results…” Landon rudely interrupted him. He pointed sharply at my face and loudly proclaimed to the doctor and everyone around. “No need to confirm! This venomous woman can’t have children herself, so she had someone kick Chloe’s four-month-old daughter to death! She’s a murderer!” The surrounding crowd instantly erupted. “Can’t have her own, so she won’t let others have theirs either.” “No wonder her husband doesn’t want her…” A flash of satisfaction crossed Landon’s eyes. He lowered his voice, his tone cruel. “Yvonne, kneel down in front of everyone and apologize to Chloe. Otherwise, I don’t mind making things even more humiliating for you.” Landon pulled out his phone and showed me a video. These videos-Landon had kept them all along. Those terrible, disgusting memories flooded back into my mind. I crouched down, hugging myself tightly, my whole body convulsing. “Yvonne, Yvonne, don’t scare me…” My body felt light. I fell into a familiar embrace. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Landon sitting by my hospital bed, looking somewhat exhausted. Seeing me awake, his eyes reddened. “You fool, I just wanted you to soften up a bit. How could I really do that…” I smiled bleakly, finding it all meaningless. “Landon, we’ve loved each other for so many years, yet we’ve become bitter enemies. You deserve full credit for that.” The hospital room door opened. Chloe walked in holding a stuffed rabbit, her eyes red. “Honey, I just had a dream. I dreamed our daughter came to me, asking why I didn’t protect her…” Landon stood up, put his arm around Chloe’s waist, and walked out while comforting her. As he left, he paused. “That divorce agreement-I signed it in a moment of panic. I’m treating it as invalid. “What happened earlier was my fault, but I also hope you can apologize to Chloe for hurting her child.” Chloe curled up in Landon’s arms, smirking at me provocatively. I grabbed a vase and hurled it at Chloe. Landon’s reaction was almost instinctive. He shielded Chloe completely in his arms. Landon turned back slowly, looking at me with eyes full of ice. “Yvonne, I’m very disappointed in you.” The perfect couple left hand in hand. I lay in the hospital bed, looking at Chloe’s genetic test report, almost laughing out loud.

Before news of the divorce spread, Landon couldn’t wait to parade around with Chloe. We met again at an auction. I wanted to buy a jade bracelet. “Thirty million.” I raised my paddle. The price was already very high, and competitors in the room fell silent. From the VIP section across from me, Chloe whispered in Landon’s ear. When her eyes glanced toward me, they carried undisguised provocation. Landon’s lips curved into a smile. He gestured to the auctioneer. The entire venue instantly erupted. “Mr. Cross bids the highest price!” This meant that no matter how much I bid, he would outbid me, just to make his beauty smile. In the end, he purchased the jade bracelet at an absurd sky-high price and personally placed it on Chloe’s wrist. Chloe stroked the jade on her wrist, lifted her chin at me, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Honey, this jade really suits me. Some people-when they’re old, they’re just old. Nothing looks good on them.” Landon beside her not only didn’t stop her but indulgently tightened his arm around her waist. Chloe, arm in arm with him, left like a victor. She handed me a red invitation, her smile glaring. “Miss Lowell, in three days, Landon and I are getting married. You absolutely must come witness our happiness!” I accepted it, my fingers casually flicking the invitation. “Sure.” Turning around, I made a phone call, my tone calm. “You won that bet from seven years ago. When my marital status changes to ‘widowed,’ come marry me.” I had wanted to part ways amicably with Landon, but he kept indulging Chloe’s provocations. He seemed to have forgotten-I always seek revenge. I never swallow my anger. Three days later, I arrived at the wedding as promised. The wedding was extremely lavish. Chloe’s seven children served as flower children. The venue was packed with guests, but the atmosphere was strange. Landon remarrying after betraying his wife-these social elites didn’t want to wade into this mess. It was only because I had my assistant send out invitations widely that they felt compelled to come. The moment I stepped into the banquet hall, the noise stopped abruptly. All eyes focused on me. Seeing me, Chloe’s eyes flashed with cold light. Then she clapped her hands. “Let’s show everyone something interesting!” The large screen at the wedding lit up. It was a video of me being abused by Landon’s rival gang years ago. My body was covered in blood and filthy fluids, like a broken doll. In the video, I screamed shrilly, “Kill me! Kill me!” Those men cackled with laughter. “Mr. Cross didn’t tell us to kill you. He wants to keep you alive and record this video. That’s the only way he can really control you.” Countless midnight dreams, I would dream of this scene. Back then, I didn’t believe those events were orchestrated by Landon. I thought my memory was confused. But that day in the hospital, I saw on Landon’s phone the video that should have been destroyed. Only then did I realize with horror that the man I had loved for so many years had always been a demon. When the video ended, the entire venue fell deathly silent. Only Landon frantically questioned Chloe. “Who gave you permission to show this video? Yvonne will have a breakdown!” For the first time, Chloe saw such a terrifying Landon. She shook her head in panic. “I didn’t know…” Under everyone’s gaze, I walked step by step toward Landon. I tossed him a wooden box and sneered mockingly. “Congratulations on your wedding, Mr. Cross.” Landon’s face turned deathly pale. After seeing what was in the box, his eyes nearly split with rage.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367822”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic

After my miscarriage, my abdomen felt like it had been crushed by a truck. My husband William walked in wearing his white coat. He pulled off his gloves while coldly informing me: “It’s good this baby’s gone. Now we can remove part of your uterus and transplant it to Juliet.” I thought I’d misheard. I weakly asked: “What did you say? Who’s Juliet?” His eyes held no warmth, as if looking at an organ container: “My first love. She has congenital underdeveloped uterus and can’t be a mother. You have a good constitution. We won’t be having children anyway, so you might as well help her out.” I struggled to sit up, disbelief filling my eyes: “William, I’m your wife! You want me to give my organs to your old flame?” He pressed down on my shoulder, his tone brooking no argument: “This is the medically optimal solution. It’s also your chance to atone.” “Atone? What did I do wrong?” He looked down at me from above, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses: “You’ve occupied the position that should have been hers for five years. That’s your mistake. I’ve already signed the surgical consent form for you. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll stop your father’s medication tomorrow.” I lay on the cold operating table, staring at the blinding surgical light overhead. So in his heart, I wasn’t even a person. Just a spare parts warehouse.

After William said this, he threw the surgical informed consent form directly in my face. The sharp edge of the paper cut across my cheek, stinging painfully. The pen tip nearly blinded my eye. I ignored the pain on my face and desperately grabbed the hem of his white coat. “William, are you insane? I just had a miscarriage! That was our child!” “Doing a transplant surgery now—do you want me to die on the operating table?” William slapped my hand away in disgust, as if brushing off something dirty. “You won’t die. I’m the lead surgeon. I know what I’m doing.” “Besides, that embryo wasn’t viable anyway. It’s better that it’s gone.” “Juliet can’t wait any longer. Her birthday is next month. This is my gift to her.” A gift? Using my organs to please his first love? I trembled all over, whether from anger or cold, I couldn’t tell. “I won’t sign! I’ll call the police! This is intentional harm!” William let out a cold laugh, the look of someone superior regarding an ant. “Call the police? I’m your legal husband and your attending physician.” “I have the right to decide your treatment plan.” “And by the way, did you forget? Your father is still lying in the ICU.” At the mention of my father, I fell silent like a chicken with its throat squeezed. William was satisfied with my reaction. He unhurriedly pulled out his phone. “Your father’s medical expenses are twelve thousand dollars a day. It’s only through my connections that he’s in the special care ward.” “With just one phone call, he’ll be thrown into the hallway tonight.” “Want to try it?” I bit through my lip. The taste of blood spread through my mouth. Five years ago, I was a prodigy at medical school. He was a poor boy living on financial aid. To support him through his doctoral studies, I gave up graduate school to sell insurance and wait tables. I worked three jobs a day. My hands were corroded by dish soap. Back then, he carried me on his back through the snow when I had a fever, swearing he’d protect me for life. Now, wearing the designer shirt I bought him, he wanted to take me apart and give me away. “William, did a dog eat your conscience?”

“I supported your education, supported your whole family. Is this how you repay me?” William’s face darkened, as if I’d touched a nerve. “Shut up! That was all your wishful thinking, your self-indulgent delusion!” “If you hadn’t desperately clung to me, Juliet and I would have been married long ago!” “You’re just a burden. Besides cooking and washing clothes, what else can you do?” “Juliet is different. She’s George’s daughter. She can advance my career.” “Giving her your uterus is the greatest value you’ll have in this life.” Just then, the hospital room door was pushed open. A nurse came in with a medication cart. Seeing the tense atmosphere, she didn’t dare speak. William resumed his sanctimonious appearance. “Change the dressing for bed 3. Also prepare her for surgery. First case tomorrow morning.” The nurse hesitated: “Dr. William, bed 3 just had a D&C procedure. Her vital signs…” “Do as I say!” William barked. The nurse flinched and quickly nodded. William pulled back my blanket in front of the outsider. Without any respect, as if examining a piece of pork. “Recovery looks fine. Won’t affect the extraction.” Extraction. Was I a package? The overwhelming humiliation made me want to scream, but I couldn’t make a sound. Because I saw a wheelchair had stopped at the doorway. A woman sat in it, smiling at me. That was Juliet. I’d only seen her photo in the inner fold of William’s wallet. It was an old photo from many years ago. The girl in the photo looked as pure as a white flower. The current Juliet wore a hospital gown. Though sitting in a wheelchair, her complexion was rosy. She even looked healthier than me, who had just miscarried. The moment William saw her, he changed his expression completely, becoming tender enough to melt. “Juliet, why did you come? There are bacteria here. Don’t get infected.” Juliet coyly extended her hand, letting William help her. “William, I was worried about Lena. Lena just lost her baby. She must be devastated. I wanted to see her.” She had William push the wheelchair to my bedside. I smelled her expensive perfume—the one William had bought with my card last week. Juliet grabbed my hand. Tears came instantly. “Lena, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. My body is useless.” “I just want to give William a child so badly.” “Since you can’t have one, just let me borrow your uterus. You don’t need it anymore anyway.” Borrow? Could such a thing be borrowed? I looked at her fake face, nausea churning in my stomach. “Get out! Don’t touch me!” I used all my strength to shake off her hand. Juliet fell backward deliberately, collapsing to the floor with a cry. “Oh! That hurts!” “Juliet!” William rushed over to lift her up, then turned and slapped me across the face. “Smack!” The slap was brutal. It hit me so hard that my post-surgical abdomen cramped violently. My vision went black. “Lena! You vicious woman! Juliet came to see you out of kindness, and you pushed her!” I covered my face, my ears ringing. “She’s faking… William, are you blind? She’s not even sick!” I hadn’t used any force in that shake. And her pulse was strong and powerful, her palm warm. She wasn’t someone with congenital disease at all. I studied medicine. I still had that much judgment. William didn’t listen at all. He carefully lifted Juliet back into the wheelchair. “If anything happens to Juliet, I’ll take your life!”

Juliet curled up in William’s arms, sobbing: “William, don’t blame Lena. She’s probably just too jealous of me.” “After all, I’m the one you’re going to marry. She’s just a transition.” William tenderly wiped away her tears. “What transition? She’s just a housekeeper.” Then he took out his phone and, right in front of me, called my father’s attending physician on speakerphone. “Hello, this is William.” “Stop the ventilator for half an hour.” The doctor’s hesitant voice came through: “William, this… the patient can’t survive without the ventilator. Half an hour will be fatal.” William looked at me, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Do as I say. If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility. Or rather, this is the family’s request.” The call ended. Less than a minute later, the alarm from the monitoring equipment in my father’s room echoed down the hallway. It was a countdown to death. “No! William, you bastard!” I broke down crying. Ignoring the severe pain in my abdomen, I knelt on the bed and kowtowed to him. “Please! Don’t hurt my father! I’ll sign! I’ll sign!” “I’ll give you whatever you want! Please don’t stop his medication!” Dignity? In the face of a loved one’s life, dignity was worthless. William was satisfied with my submission. He hung up and ordered the oxygen restored. Then he patted my face from above, like patting an obedient dog. “Wouldn’t this have been easier from the start?” “Eight o’clock tomorrow morning in the OR. Make sure you’re clean.” “I don’t like dirty things.” Juliet covered her mouth and laughed: “Lena is so understanding. Thank you for your sacrifice.” They left. Leaving me alone in the darkness, listening to my father’s weak heartbeat from the end of the hallway. In that moment, the Lena in my heart died. I kept my eyes open all night until dawn. Like a movie playing in my mind, all the moments from these five years. To save money to buy him medical textbooks, I bought the cheapest sanitary pads. When he published his first paper, I was happier than him. I treated everyone in the lab to dinner. Back then he said: “Lena, when I become a renowned doctor, the first thing I’ll do is cure Dad.” Turns out, it was all a lie. From the beginning, I was the “drawback” after he weighed the pros and cons. Six o’clock the next morning. William brought a group of medical interns for rounds. He was high-spirited, his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting cold light, showing no trace of last night’s ferocity. “Everyone, today we’ll discuss a special case.” He pointed at me, as if introducing an object. “Patient Lena, habitual miscarriage due to uterine malformation. She has a strong desire to donate.” “We will perform a highly difficult partial uterine transplant surgery.” “The recipient is a young woman with congenital uterine underdevelopment.” The interns took notes, pens scratching away. Someone muttered quietly: “This is a living donor transplant. Did it pass ethical review?” William glanced coolly at that person. “Family signatures are complete. The patient herself strongly requested to atone… oh no, to contribute.” He deliberately misspoke, causing whispers among those around. Those gazes fell on me. Probing, contemptuous, and pitying. As if I were a soulless medical specimen, a piece of meat awaiting slaughter. I gripped the bedsheet tightly, my nails breaking into my flesh. “William, you’re lying!”

I shouted with a hoarse voice. “I’m not willing! You forced me! You were going to kill my father!” The scene fell deathly silent. The interns looked at each other, their pens stopped. William’s expression didn’t change. He even shook his head with a hint of regret. He pulled out a paper from the medical chart. “After the miscarriage, the patient developed severe delusional disorder. She’s emotionally unstable and aggressive.” “This is the psychiatric evaluation report from last night.” He displayed the forged report for everyone to see. “She constantly imagines someone is trying to harm her father. In fact, her father is already brain dead. We’ve just been maintaining him.” Public opinion reversed instantly. Everyone looked at me like I was insane. “So she’s crazy. No wonder.” “William really has it tough, having to care for a crazy wife.” “So pitiful. She doesn’t even know she miscarried.” I opened my mouth wide, wanting to explain, but found words so powerless. In this world of authority constructed by white coats, I was just a madwoman. William waved his hand: “The patient is agitated. Administer a sedative.” Two male orderlies rushed up and pinned me down, one on each side. A cold needle pierced my neck. “Let me go… William… may you die a horrible death…” The medication took effect quickly. My vision began to blur, my tongue grew thick. In my daze, I saw Juliet standing at the door. She wasn’t in the wheelchair—she stood perfectly straight. She mouthed words to me: “Idiot.” Then, while the interns were leaving, she slipped in. She pinched my IV tube with her sharp nails until the tube was flattened. “Lena, actually I’m not sick at all.” She whispered in my ear, like a serpent’s hiss. “My uterus is perfectly fine. I just don’t want to give birth myself. Afraid of pain, afraid of ruining my figure.” “William said your uterus is well-maintained. Perfect for me to use.” “He also said you reek of cooking oil and have disgusted him for a long time.” “Only I am his muse.” My whole body was limp, unable to move, but I didn’t close my eyes. I bit through the tip of my tongue. The sharp pain kept me barely conscious. Blood flowed down from the corner of my mouth. Juliet, William. As long as I don’t die, I will skin you alive and pull out your tendons. All the suffering I’ve endured—I’ll return it to you a thousandfold! The sedative dosage wasn’t enough. Or rather, hatred gave me drug resistance. During the nurses’ shift change, using my former medical knowledge, I pulled out the needle. Blood droplets splattered on the floor like red plum blossoms. I stole an intern’s white coat, put on a mask, and stumbled out of the room. I had to take my father away. Even if I died on the road, I couldn’t let him fall into the hands of this pair of dogs. My father’s ICU was upstairs. I held onto the wall, shuffling step by step. Each step felt like a knife twisting in my lower body. Finally, I reached that familiar door. My hand had just touched the doorknob when I heard voices inside. “William, do we really need to keep Lena’s father around?” It was Juliet’s voice. “The ventilator is so noisy. It’s giving me a headache.” Then came William’s voice, cold as ice. “Originally we could drag it out a few more days to control Lena.” “But since the surgery is happening anyway, this old thing is useless now.” “Plus, his little pension isn’t even enough to cover the special care fees.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367823”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic

At the airport security checkpoint, the security officer asked the routine question: “Are you carrying any prohibited items?” I was about to shake my head when my assistant beside me raised her hand with an innocent expression on her face. “Do blades count? She’s got dozens of them in her suitcase!” As soon as the words left her mouth, the entire area fell deathly silent. The security officer pressed her radio, and security personnel instantly surrounded us like an iron wall. I broke out in a nervous sweat. “I’m a doctor! I’m going to the neighboring state for emergency surgery. My suitcase only contains medical instruments. I have the permits!” “Open it.” The security officer’s face remained expressionless. Inside the bag were neatly arranged surgical scalpels, hemostatic clamps, and a change of clothes. While pointing out each item, I turned back and urged, “Did you bring the medical records?” My assistant Bella kept her head down, her voice like a mosquito’s hum. “I… I brought them.” “What’s this bottle?” The security officer suddenly pointed at a shadow on the screen. Before I could react, Bella spoke up with an innocent expression, shouting loudly: “I already told you gasoline can’t be brought on the plane. Why won’t you listen? Are you planning to blow up the plane or something?” The air froze once again. The security officer’s eyes shifted from suspicion to vigilance. “Please follow us both to the interrogation room.” Hearing this, my mind went blank with a buzzing sound. The patient on the operating table had already been anesthetized, but the lead surgeon was being treated as a suspect at the airport because of her assistant’s loose lips. At this moment, there were eighteen minutes until the boarding gate closed.

“Officer, this is a misunderstanding!” My voice cracked with urgency as my hands gripped the handle of my suitcase desperately. “I’m Chloe, the chief physician at Hope Hospital. There’s a critically ill seven-year-old child waiting for me to save their life!” “There’s absolutely no gasoline in my bag. She’s lying!” Several special police officers had already surrounded us. Although the dark muzzles of their guns weren’t raised, the sense of oppression was suffocating. “Whether it’s a lie or not, anything involving flammable and explosive materials or terrorist statements must be investigated.” The security team leader’s face was cold as he snatched away my boarding pass. “Take them away!” Two female security officers twisted my arms behind my back and forcibly pushed me toward the sealed interrogation room. Looking back, Bella was leisurely following behind. I was so angry my blood felt like it was flowing backward. “Bella! Do you know what you’re doing?!” “That child has massive bleeding in the chest cavity. Every minute of delay could cost them their life!” Bella rolled her eyes and examined her freshly done manicure. “Chloe, aren’t you being a bit overdramatic?” “I was just trying to lighten the mood. How was I supposed to know these people can’t take a joke?” She pointed at the security officer with a grieved expression. “Besides, who told you to check so strictly? I casually mention gasoline and you believe it? No sense of humor at all.” The security team leader’s face turned iron-blue. “Sense of humor?” “Miss, claiming to carry gasoline and blades at an airport constitutes fabricating false terrorist information. That’s a crime!” Bella scoffed. “Stop trying to scare me. My relative is a leader at the Health Bureau. You dare arrest me?” “Let us go quickly, or I’ll file a complaint against you for violent law enforcement!” Her reckless attitude completely enraged the police. The interrogation room door slammed shut. I glanced at the electronic clock on the wall. Ten minutes until takeoff. If I didn’t get on now, it would be too late!

I dropped to my knees with a thud. “Officers, the liquid in the bag is just alcohol. I accept the penalty! Confiscate the alcohol, lock me up afterward if you want!” “But can you please let me board the plane first? I’m a doctor. The neighboring state hospital urgently needs me for surgery. They’re already calling me!” “If you don’t let me board, it’ll be too late!!” The police officer’s eyes changed. He immediately picked up his radio. “Command center, verify the suspect’s identity. If this is a misunderstanding, requesting assistance…” Hearing this, Bella sat in a chair to the side, crossed her legs, and laughed outright. “Officer, let me tell you the truth. She’s not going to the neighboring state for any emergency surgery. She’s fleeing to escape punishment.” The officer’s hand tightened on the radio, his eyes instantly becoming sharp. “Fleeing? Explain yourself!” Bella’s face showed mockery. “Chloe just killed someone on the operating table yesterday. The family members are causing a scene at the hospital right now.” “The hospital issued a notice this morning—suspended pending investigation, medical license to be revoked.” “She’s afraid of going to jail, so she made up an excuse to run away to another place and lay low.” After speaking, she covered her mouth with exaggerated surprise as she looked at me. “Chloe, I didn’t want to expose you. After all, we’ve been colleagues. Several friends even specifically asked me to represent them in seeing you off this time.” “But you can’t use these kind officers’ goodwill as a tool.” As she finished, the security team leader’s face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot. “Is what she said true?” Of course Bella was lying. And it was the kind of outrageous lie that could destroy a doctor’s entire career! I stared hard at Bella’s face, trembling with rage. “Bella, I’ve always treated you well—helped you publish papers, shielded you from complaints. Why are you trying to destroy me like this?!” The smile vanished from Bella’s face instantly. She suddenly leaned close to me, grinding her teeth as she spoke in a low voice. “Treated me well?” “Chloe, stop pretending to be a saint!” “Last week when that rich kid from the VIP ward added me on Twitter, why did you confiscate my phone in front of the head nurse?” “And you called me out at the morning meeting, saying I dressed provocatively and didn’t meet medical staff standards?” “You made me lose face, made me unable to hold my head up in front of those interns!” She grew more agitated as she spoke, the malice in her eyes almost overflowing. “You’re the director, so what? You’re an expert, big deal?” “Today I’m going to make sure you can’t leave!” So the reason was this absurd. Simply because I stopped her from flirting with a patient’s family member in a sterile ward, simply because I wanted to maintain departmental discipline. She was willing to sacrifice a seven-year-old child’s life at this critical moment! I laughed bitterly, about to retort. The security team leader’s sharp shout interrupted our confrontation. He had obviously been influenced by Bella’s words, looking at me with eyes full of scrutiny. “Enough! If this involves medical malpractice and fleeing, the situation has changed.” “Confiscate her bag, detain her first, and notify the district police station and Health Bureau to pick her up.” Two female officers immediately stepped forward, gripping my shoulders from left and right. At that moment, the clock on the wall jumped forward. Six minutes left. The boarding gate was about to close! I was losing my mind. Because once the gate closed, even if I could prove my innocence, I wouldn’t make this flight—the only one available. And that child couldn’t wait for the next flight! “I’m not lying! I didn’t kill anyone!” I struggled desperately. “I have evidence! I have proof!” “Let me get my phone! Please let me get my phone!” The security team leader frowned, seemingly impatient with my resistance. “Settle down! You’ll get your chance to talk at the police station!” “There’s no time! It’s a life at stake!” Tears and mucus covered my face. I had completely lost the dignity of a chief physician. “I need my phone! Let me look at my phone! Just one look!” “If it’s fake, you can shoot me right here!”

Perhaps the desperation in my eyes was too real. The young officer who had been observing me grabbed the team leader’s arm. “Team leader, let her.” “What if… what if it’s true?” The team leader was silent for two seconds, then snorted coldly and let go. “Watch her. Don’t let her delete anything.” With trembling hands, I pulled my phone from my pocket. As soon as the screen lit up, countless red notifications popped up. All from the director of the neighboring state’s Central Hospital. I frantically opened the conversation and held the phone screen up to the officers. “Look… please look!” “This is the Twitter account of the neighboring state Central Hospital director!” “This is the child’s medical record!” “These are real-time surveillance screenshots from their operating room!” I cried while scrolling through the screen, my voice breaking. The officer frowned, half-believing as he took the phone and randomly clicked on the most recent long voice message. The next second, an elderly voice came through. “Chloe! The child’s heart rate has dropped to 40! Blood pressure can’t be measured!” “There’s too much pleural effusion compressing the heart. We have to open the chest!” “But no one dares to do this surgery except you! The blood vessels are too thin. One tremor and it’s a massive hemorrhage!” “All the hospital’s experts are here watching, all waiting for you alone!” “Chloe! I’m begging you! Please hurry!” In the background, you could hear a nurse’s anxious shouts: “Epinephrine injection complete! Heart rate still dropping!” The voice message stopped. The entire interrogation room once again fell into dead silence. But this time, it wasn’t from suspicion. The security team leader’s expression changed. He instinctively looked at the clock on the wall. Four minutes left. My eyes were red as I stared hard into the officer’s eyes. “Officer, this isn’t a recording. This was sent twenty minutes ago.” “I’m not acting either. I’m begging you… let me go…” The security team leader, who had been so firm just moments ago, moved his lips as if wanting to say something. The suspicion in his eyes looking at me was rapidly fading. However, just as I thought I could leave smoothly, Bella’s shrill voice rang out again. “Pfft.” She covered her mouth, laughing so hard she could barely stand. “Chloe, you really went all out with this performance.” “Where did you hire this actor? The director? That old guy’s voice imitation is pretty good.” “You even prepared background audio? Must have spent quite a bit of money.” She leisurely walked up to the officer, pointing at my phone with utter disdain. “These days, fraud software is so advanced.” “You can buy a bunch of these voice generators online for a hundred bucks.” “The background audio is just downloaded material from the internet.” “If she was really so urgent, why didn’t she show this earlier? Why wait until now?” “She obviously just made this up on the spot, trying to fool you!” “Besides, if the surgery was really this urgent, that hospital would have sent a helicopter by now. They wouldn’t make her take a commercial flight, would they?” “The logic doesn’t even make sense. Only laypeople would fall for this.” Bella became more pleased with herself as she spoke. She turned to look at me, her eyes full of provocation. “Chloe, to avoid responsibility for medical malpractice, you’d even fake a critical condition notice.” “Do you have any medical ethics left?” “You’re the scum of the medical profession!” The security team leader, who had just been about to let go, became uncertain again because of these words. He was getting annoyed and ordered directly: “Continue interrogating both of them! Hurry up and verify Chloe’s real identity!”

In the interrogation room, I stared hard at that exquisitely made-up face before me. Bella was someone the director had forced on me—someone with family connections. Normally, I tolerated her slacking off during work and just clocking in and out. When she handed me the wrong clamp in the operating room or wrote incorrect medical records, I covered for her too. But I never imagined her humanity could be extinguished to this degree! Originally, the hospital had planned to send a helicopter for this surgery, but somehow Bella had said something to the director, and the hospital changed it to having me take a commercial flight. “Bella, that’s a human life!” “You studied medicine too. Did a dog eat your conscience?!” “What exactly are you trying to do!” Bella sneered and took out her compact to touch up her makeup. “I’m just here to build my resume. In a couple years I’ll be promoted to deputy director.” “Who’s like you, stupidly risking your life? Now look—you can’t make the flight, right? Perfect. If I go back now, I can still make it to my date with my senior.” “Shopping and dating? Just because of this?” I forced these words out through clenched teeth. Bella nodded matter-of-factly and took out a mirror to check her eyeliner. “What else! Some dead kid who’s nothing to me, compared to my lifelong happiness—I know which matters more.” She even winked at me. “Chloe, you should actually thank me.” “After all, that surgery only had a 20% success rate. Dying on the table and then having to write a review—so unlucky.” I was about to retort angrily when I heard a loud “bang” as the interrogation room door was thrown open. The person who entered was the criminal police captain. He turned to look at me, his tone somewhat gentler. “Chloe, we’ve verified your identity. You are a national special subsidy expert, and you do have filing records for carrying surgical instruments.” A glimmer of hope lit in my eyes. “Can I leave now?” The captain glanced at the clock on the wall, his eyes showing some reluctance. “The tower just notified us that the flight to the neighboring state took off three minutes ago.” Hearing this news, my legs gave out and I collapsed into a chair. Bella picked up her phone, brushed off the dust, her tone light. “Chloe, now you can give up, right? Come on, let’s go. I’ll treat you to a spa to cool down your temper.” I ignored her. At the same time, my phone rang. It was a video call request from the intensive care unit at the neighboring state hospital. With trembling hands, I answered. On the screen was a panicked face. “Chloe! Chloe, where are you?!” The director on the other end was covered in sweat, his eyes bloodshot. My eyes reddened too. I wanted to apologize, to say I couldn’t make the flight, to say I was sorry. But the words stuck in my throat. I couldn’t get them out. But the other end continued speaking. The camera shifted to focus on the operating table. The director roared furiously: “Chloe! You clearly said you could make it here for the surgery! Do you know that because of your delay, this child just had a massive hemorrhage and died!” My head buzzed. My mouth hung open, my face covered in tears. Five hundred miles, no plane—how could I get there?! Just then, Bella beside me suddenly spoke up: “So noisy! It’s just a dead kid! Is it worth dragging the whole hospital into mourning! People die on operating tables every day!” The director looked at Bella furiously. “Shut up! What are you to say such things!” “This child was the long-lost grandson of a military region commander!” “This time, everyone involved in this surgery won’t escape consequences!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367824”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic

My husband has changed recently. He stopped wearing cologne, saying it has too strong a scent. He’s constantly on his phone now, smiling at the screen for no reason. I figured it out—he’s in love. After I put the two kids to sleep, I received a message from his little girlfriend: “The unloved one is the real homewrecker. I’m telling you to divorce Ethan right now. I’m already pregnant! He’s crazy in love with me.” I smiled, pretended not to see it, deleted the message, and blocked her. He’s just cheating. It’s not like he went bankrupt. Besides, his affair is actually a good thing for me. I never expected the mistress to show up at my door, flaunting her pregnant belly: “If you won’t divorce him, I’ll just move in and stay here.” “When I’m in postpartum recovery, you’ll have to take care of me too.” My expression remained calm. Facing her provocation, I showed no emotional reaction: “No need.” “Ethan will hire you a postpartum nurse. He’s got plenty of money.” I pulled out my phone, about to activate the robot vacuum to clean up. Then I worried the mistress might fake a fall and blame me, so I stopped, sat across from her, and called Ethan: “Your little girlfriend showed up here with her pregnant belly.” My husband rushed home from the office in a panic. His hair was windswept and messy, his face stripped of its usual refined composure. When he entered, standing in the foyer, guilt flickered across his features. Along with displeasure at his young girlfriend’s impulsive visit. The mistress stared at me in shock. She hadn’t expected me to be this calm: “Aren’t you angry?” “Your husband cheated on you, and you’re calling him to deal with me?” I ignored her. Instead, I turned to my husband: “Handle this. Don’t let her cause a scene—it’ll be bad for the company.” “From your phone call, it sounds like you left something unfinished at the office?” “I’ll go take care of it for you.” As I walked past my husband, he grabbed my wrist. His mouth opened and closed, as if searching for an explanation. Searching for a reason I could accept, one that would also defend the pregnant mistress standing in our home. I gently pushed his hand away: “No explanation needed.” I took the car keys from him. “Don’t worry about the company matters. I’ll handle them.” “Don’t forget to turn on the robot vacuum.” I closed the door behind me. I could faintly hear his young girlfriend making a scene inside. My footsteps quickly carried me to the car, and the sounds from inside faded away. The company was built from scratch by my husband. Back then, I was his secretary. Because I was fair-skinned, beautiful, and good at my job, he took notice of me. He pursued me for a long time. Engagement, marriage—we became the model couple in everyone’s eyes. At first, he would create romantic gestures, run his fingers through his hair before going out. When we went shopping together, he’d dress up specially, saying it made him feel worthy of being with me. He’d reply to my messages instantly. If I didn’t respond to him, he’d send me message after message. He worked out every day, saying he wanted to maintain his abs for me to touch. When I worked at the company, he’d feel sorry for me, pull me aside, and tell me just sitting there watching was enough. Just sitting there and watching was already hard work, he used to say. That’s what he said when he loved me. Later, he stopped loving me. When there was work at the company, he’d dump it directly on me. When I made mistakes, he’d scold me mercilessly in front of the employees. Going out with me, he lost all patience. He’d stare at his phone, throw on whatever clothes, no effort in his appearance. So recently, when he suddenly started dressing up again and doing push-ups at home, I knew—he’d found someone new to love. “Ms. South.” In the conference room, a senior executive stood and nodded at me. I began cleaning up my husband’s mess. As the sky gradually darkened, my husband entered the office, closed the door, and kept watching me cautiously. He said: “I picked up the kids.”

I threw myself into work. Although it was his company, I benefited too. Every bit I earned meant more money I could spend. More security for my two children. Seeing I wasn’t responding, my husband pulled over a chair and sat beside me: “I’m sorry. It was my fault.” “I never thought she’d come straight to you. I told her not to do that.” “But she insisted on finding you, using her pregnancy as leverage, demanding I divorce you.” I paused. Turned my head to look at him: “So do you want to?” My husband shook his head without hesitation: “No.” “I really love you. With her, it was just a moment of impulse.” I smiled slightly: “Then just handle it yourself.” His expression was extremely anxious. “You’re… not angry?” Before I could answer, he quickly added: “I know you must be furious.” “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. What do you want? A house, a car, a house for your parents, or company shares—anything, as long as you want it.” Looking at his guilty expression, I said: “I’ll take the shares.” “Not for me—for our two kids. To give them security.” My husband’s face filled with even more guilt. He held my hand and cried for a long time. I honestly didn’t understand. He was the one who cheated. What was he crying about? My husband owned eighty percent of the company shares. Because he’d built this company from the ground up. Later, when the company needed to go public, he was forced to distribute some shares. He was smart, with keen instincts. Whatever he did, he made money. That’s what I valued about him—even if he went bankrupt, he had the ability to rise again. He transferred twenty percent of the shares to me. Gave each of our children ten percent, and promised: “There will never be a second time.” “I know you’re worried about the kids’ inheritance rights. I’ve already had my lawyer draft a will. In the future, our children will inherit the majority of my assets. Her child… will inherit a smaller portion. Is that acceptable?” My husband asked me cautiously. I honestly couldn’t understand what he felt guilty about. Guilty, yet still doing the things that betrayed me. Better not to feel guilty at all—just be brazen about it. After all, it was his money. He could give it to whoever he wanted. Did he really think that if I told him not to give shares to the mistress’s child, he wouldn’t do it? I went along with his performance: “Okay, whatever you say.” This compliance made him much more comfortable. His facial expression visibly relaxed. I thought for a moment and said: “Just don’t let it affect the company.” That night, the mistress sent me a text message, taunting: [Don’t think Ethan isn’t divorcing you because he loves you. It’s just because a divorce would hurt the company!] [Eventually, he’ll definitely divorce you! Even if he doesn’t, my child will still have inheritance rights!] I deleted the message again. Pretended I hadn’t seen it. Because her child would never have inheritance rights.

If the mistress didn’t provoke me, I actually didn’t care about his private romantic life. We’d been married for ten years. The passion had long since faded. Our son was in middle school, our daughter about to graduate elementary school. The two children already took up most of my time and energy. But the mistress had to go find my eldest son. I learned about it when my son called me, saying some woman claimed to be his stepmother. I rushed over immediately. I could be indifferent about everything else, but not my children. Never my children. When I arrived at the school gate, the mistress stood beside my son, smiling triumphantly at me. I walked over and stood in front of my son: “What do you think you’re doing?” The mistress crossed her arms in front of me: “Just letting your son get to know his future stepmother.” “What’s wrong with that? Ethan just isn’t divorcing you yet.” “He promised me he definitely will later.” It involved my son, and potentially the company’s reputation too. After all, this was an expensive private school. The students who attended here came from wealthy families. Several business contracts had been established through connections made via my son’s classmates. Quite a few people were already looking in our direction. I was angry: “Get lost.” Seeing me angry, the mistress backed off instead, laughing: “I never thought Ms. South could lose her temper.” “I thought you were made of paper—that nothing could make you angry.” I was somewhat provoked, and said coldly: “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have someone drag you to the hospital for an abortion.” She panicked: “You wouldn’t dare!” “Ethan won’t let you get away with it.” I raised my chin, lowering my voice threateningly: “If you don’t get lost, the media will show up here instantly and expose you.” “You tell me—what’s more important, you or the company’s reputation?” The mistress panicked. She glared at me resentfully. I knew she wouldn’t let this go, but she also wouldn’t dare act rashly. She was in it for the money. If my husband’s company ran into problems, she’d lose her meal ticket. And my husband would hate her. After the mistress left, I turned to look at my son, my expression complex. My eldest son gestured with his eyes for me to get in the car. Once in the car, he said: “We need to protect my sister. I’m afraid that bad woman will hurt her.” I nodded. I didn’t expect that at dinner that evening, he’d bring it up: “Dad, someone came to find me today and told me to call her stepmother.” My husband immediately guessed who it was, his expression uncomfortable: “She’s crazy. Ignore her. It won’t happen again.” My son nodded calmly: “Okay.” “I don’t want my sister to know.” My husband fled in embarrassment. My son and I exchanged glances without words.

Actually, I’m quite materialistic too. Because I only love money and my children, I’m emotionally stable in my marriage. I don’t care about my husband’s private life outside. But the thing is, my husband is actually a very good man. He doesn’t drink, works hard, even helps take care of the kids. And he respects me. On his office desk, he’s always kept a ceramic cat I made from clay. When we were dating, we visited a ceramics shop, and he wanted something I’d made with my own hands. So I made him a cat. A red-painted cat. The color has faded now, but it still stands firmly on his desk. My daughter loves stickers. Every time she sits in his car, she puts up a few. Even though she’s in elementary school now, if anyone touches those stickers, he gets upset. There’s also a little shoe hanging there. That little shoe, pink and crocheted from yarn. When my daughter was just a few months old, I crocheted it for her to wear for fun. Later, one went missing. He was so disappointed that he just hung it in his car as decoration. My husband is recognized as a good man. Everyone praises how lucky I am to have found such a good man. At every social event, his appearance makes people’s eyes light up. Either with jealousy or with envy. Especially recently, since he started his romance with the mistress, he’s been paying attention to his appearance. Wearing white dress shirts on top, the semi-transparent kind. Faintly revealing his newly developed abs. Tight-fitting dress pants, a belt highlighting his waistline. Red-soled leather shoes. When he walks toward me, there’s actually something seductive about it. Since he stopped loving me, he rarely initiated intimacy. I suppose this time, he felt guilty. And I wasn’t crying or making a scene, so he wanted to use another method to appease me. After an entire night of appeasement, I was indeed satisfied—the mistress had trained him well. But we were only halfway through when he was urgently called away by a phone call from the mistress. Before leaving, he looked especially guilty and uncomfortable. But I could already feel him going soft inside me. It was indeed uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t criticize him: “Go ahead. We can continue when you get back.” He felt even more guilty. Yet guilt didn’t stop his feet from moving. He still left. It seemed my husband was really invested in the mistress. He wouldn’t be coming back tonight. I kind of missed him already. Before long, the mistress sent me several photos. They were explicit images of them in the bathroom together. I replied: [You’re pregnant. Aren’t you afraid of a miscarriage doing something this intense?] She cursed at me angrily several times. I blocked her again. Actually, my husband being like this made me feel relieved. He used to be too good—so good that I’d have nightmares at night. I’d feel anxious. Anxious that a gold-digger like me had actually landed a good man. Now he’d finally cheated. The heart that had been anxious for so many years finally calmed down. Because my two current children weren’t even his.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367825”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic

My wife is the most renowned genius artist of our time, but she suffers from emotional detachment disorder. When I accidentally fell down the stairs and called out to her for help, she asked me, “Why do you always bother me?” Then she stepped over my body in her high heels and left gracefully. That’s when I finally understood—a heart you can’t warm is not worth warming anymore. After she proposed divorce for the ninety-ninth time, I said, “I agree.” My wife froze for a long moment. “What did you say?” I handed her the signed divorce agreement. She stared at the papers, then looked up at me for a long time, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back. “You don’t even want our daughter?” I nodded. Right. I didn’t want any of it anymore. In the divorce agreement, I willingly gave up custody of our daughter. I had only one condition—Hannah Smith had to agree to let my mother continue receiving treatment at the hospital under the Smith family’s name. The Smith family owned the top medical team for bone cancer treatment in the country. Only there did my mother have a chance of recovery. After we got our divorce certificate, Hannah’s face remained calm and distant as always. “So what will you do now?” I knew this was just Hannah being polite. She had never truly cared about me. I gave a perfunctory answer. “Travel.” Hannah didn’t ask any more questions. Leo put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder and smiled at me. “Thanks for being willing to let Hannah go and give her freedom.” I instinctively glanced at Hannah. Facing Leo’s closeness, her expression was relaxed and natural—none of the discomfort she showed when facing me. Hannah suddenly spoke up. “Travel costs money. I’ll transfer some to you.” Her tone was still that flat, cold indifference, as if we were complete strangers. This divorce left me with essentially nothing. Hannah and I had signed a prenuptial agreement—whatever we earned after marriage would belong to each of us individually. All our expenses after marriage followed an AA system. There were no property disputes. But the key issue was that our daughter had poor health and high needs. I had quit my job long ago to stay home and take care of her full-time. If I couldn’t take on freelance work from home, I would have starved. Leo interrupted Hannah with a teasing tone. “Hannah, I’m sure he has savings. Besides, he’s a grown man—how could he have the nerve to take your money?” “Plus, the art exhibition is about to start. We need to manage our funds carefully.” As he spoke, Leo kept patting Hannah’s shoulder, his manner intimate and natural. Hannah nodded thoughtfully, looking at Leo with approval and admiration. “You’re right.” Leo seemed satisfied with this answer and smiled at me. “You better not go anywhere too remote on your travels. These past few years, quite a few solo hikers have gotten into trouble.” Hannah frowned and replied flatly, “What could happen to him?” I took a deep breath. See? That’s how little Hannah cared about me. Hannah had severe emotional detachment disorder. To put it bluntly, she lacked the capacity to love. When Hannah was young, her grandfather died. At the funeral, she showed no expression, like it had nothing to do with her. Everyone said she was a monster. I was afraid Hannah would be hurt if she heard them, so I covered her ears and comforted her. “Don’t listen to them. You’re not wrong. I know you’re sad too—you just don’t know how to express it.” But Hannah looked at me seriously and said, “Why should I be sad? Everyone dies eventually, don’t they?” I was stunned. As an eight-year-old, I couldn’t understand why Hannah would say something like that. Later, Hannah’s condition got worse. She even began self-harming and showing signs of nihilism—Hannah didn’t love anyone, including herself. But only when she saw me did Hannah’s condition improve. To save her, the Smith family made a deal with me—they would treat my mother’s bone cancer if I married Hannah. Hannah even looked at me with pleading eyes, like an injured young animal. “Don’t leave. Stay with me forever, Jasper.” I had no choice. We did have a period of affection once. During that brief time, we had our daughter. Our daughter was born with a congenital heart condition and needed constant care. Hannah couldn’t even take care of herself, so I certainly couldn’t count on her. I had no choice but to shift all my focus to our daughter, caring for her with everything I had. Without realizing it, Hannah and I grew further and further apart. Hannah was a famous genius artist online with a massive following. When her fans found out I was a stay-at-home husband, they all said I wasn’t good enough for her. [Hannah’s husband is just a useless pretty boy living off her. And he’s supposed to be some elite graduate? What a disgrace.] [How can the husband of a genius artist be such a worthless kept man?] [I heard their families go way back and arranged their marriage when they were kids. Feudal thinking ruins lives.] I asked Hannah for help, begging her to explain things to her fans. After all, nobody cared what I had to say. But Hannah was different. Yet Hannah looked at me with a strange, confused expression. “You’re so weird. Why do you care what strangers think?” “Besides, they’re not wrong. You are a stay-at-home husband.” What did I say back then? I can’t remember. I only remember feeling completely lost and on the verge of breaking down. Should I have blamed Hannah? Everyone around me kept telling me that Hannah was just sick, that she was incapable of love. As her husband, I should be understanding. I used that excuse to comfort myself countless times after that. Our daughter had poor health—even a little breeze would give her a cold and fever. I couldn’t sleep through the night, keeping watch by her bedside. Meanwhile, Hannah, her mother, never showed up once, completely absorbed in her paintings. I confronted her, asking why she didn’t care about our child. Hannah looked up at me. “Would it help if I went? I’m not a doctor.” Days of exhaustion and mental torment made my vision go dark, and I fell down the stairs. Blood pooled beneath my head in a spreading stain.

Before I completely lost consciousness, I called out to Hannah for help. She stood there, looking at me coldly. “Why do you always bother me?” Then she stepped over the pool of blood in her high heels and strode away without a care. In that moment, I truly understood for the first time what people meant when they called Hannah a monster. Hannah didn’t care whether I lived or died. But she was different with Leo, her young assistant. Around Leo, Hannah seemed to become normal. Like a wooden puppet suddenly growing flesh and blood, suddenly having warmth. At a press conference once, Hannah said, “Leo makes my withered soul grow wild with life.” “Because of him, I can feel that sunlight is warm and flowers are enchanting.” When we got home that day, I questioned her like a madman. “Hannah, do you even know what you’re doing? This is cheating!” “Jasper, you shouldn’t use the word ‘cheating’ to define my relationship with Leo.” Hannah’s expression didn’t change. As she spoke, she didn’t even lift her head once, continuing to work on her painting. The studio was filled with sketches—all portraits of Leo. Him laughing, him deep in thought, him frowning… Every stroke seemed to pour out all of Hannah’s energy and devotion. As I left in despair, Hannah called out to me. “Jasper, you’ve only ever been a passerby in my life.” “But Leo gives me a soul. He’s the wellspring of my artistic inspiration.” Suddenly, I lost all desire to argue with her. Utter exhaustion and powerlessness consumed me. I finally understood that Hannah wasn’t incapable of loving everyone. I just wasn’t the person she was willing to understand or accommodate. I thought my life was already as desperate as it could get. But then even my daughter started calling Leo “Dad.” Our daughter, just like Hannah, constantly fawned over and praised Leo. “Daddy Leo, you’re so handsome.” “I wish you were really my dad.” “I don’t want a useless father. My classmates all make fun of me.” Even my mother-in-law came to lecture me, telling me I should be grateful. “My Hannah is the best artist now. You should feel honored to be her husband.” “So what if she doesn’t love you? Love doesn’t put food on the table.” … As my memories flooded back, I turned to leave. “Goodbye, you two.” If I could help it, I never wanted to see Hannah again for the rest of my life. But someone grabbed my wrist. Hannah stared at me, her eyes full of confusion and bewilderment. “Why… why are you doing this?” “Let go.” My voice was cold. Leo glanced at me, then gently coaxed Hannah. “Hannah, could you let go first?” But Hannah acted as if she hadn’t heard him, her brow furrowed tight. When she spoke again, her expression was still innocent and clumsy. “Is this because of when you fell down the stairs? But you… you were fine, weren’t you?” I laughed bitterly. The only reason I was still standing here was pure luck. I yanked my hand back forcefully and looked at her coldly. “Get lost.” Hannah had never been treated this way by me before. She looked at me helplessly, clearly not used to it. Leo stepped forward in time to hold Hannah’s hand, saying somewhat helplessly, “Come on, calm down. Hannah doesn’t mean any harm. She just doesn’t know how to express what she’s thinking.” “Don’t keep forcing her. Hannah isn’t your property.” Hannah nodded, clearly agreeing with Leo’s words. I laughed out loud. How utterly pointless. “Goodbye, Hannah.” I waved my hand and strode away. Hannah stood frozen in place, her fingers trembling unconsciously—a sign she was nervous. Leo didn’t notice anything wrong and gripped her hand tighter. “Let’s go, my great artist.” Hannah stared at Leo in a daze. She tried to ease the discomfort in her chest. But found she couldn’t fill that hollow, lost feeling no matter what. Hannah wasn’t good at conversation and couldn’t express her thoughts precisely. To explain it in terms Hannah understood best—it was like a work she’d poured her heart and soul into had suddenly been destroyed. It made her heart skip a beat.

When people learned about our divorce, many came to talk me out of it. My usually arrogant former mother-in-law, Mrs. Smith, came to find me with her daughter. At the time, I was pulling my suitcase, preparing to leave. Mrs. Smith grabbed my suitcase, her eyes smiling. “Oh, you don’t need to move out.” “You haven’t worked in so many years. Can you even support yourself out there?” “Besides, you’ve done our Smith family a favor. If you starve to death out there, people will say we repaid kindness with cruelty.” My daughter, Riley, stood beside her, looking at me sideways and muttering, “Stingy jerk. You’re just jealous that we like Daddy Leo more.” Mrs. Smith pretended to scold Riley a few times, then turned to speak to me. “Good boy, Mom knows you’ve been wronged.” “But you know Hannah—she just doesn’t understand social niceties. But you’re the one she likes most.” Her tone was familiar and affectionate, as if nothing had ever gone wrong between me and the Smith family. I sneered. “Mrs. Smith, didn’t you always want us to divorce?” I cut straight to the point. The smile on Mrs. Smith’s face nearly cracked. She forced a dry laugh. “What are you saying? Your mother and I are such good friends. Of course I’m very satisfied with you as a son-in-law.” She looked sincere. But I only found her hypocritical. I couldn’t forget that after I fell down the stairs and was sent to the ICU, just as the operating room doors closed, I heard Mrs. Smith’s extremely cold voice: “It would be better if he died. The Smith family doesn’t need such a useless son-in-law.” In private, Mrs. Smith often told people, “Jasper doesn’t deserve my daughter at all. He’s worthless.” I looked at Mrs. Smith coldly. She must have had ulterior motives for coming to find me today. Sure enough, the next second, Mrs. Smith spoke, her tone turning cold and hard. “Hannah is at a critical point in her career. If news of your divorce gets out now, it won’t look good.” “So you can’t publicly announce the divorce yet. Can you do that?” Before I could respond, Riley pushed me. “Just agree already.” “Daddy Leo was right. You’re so selfish, always only thinking about yourself.” Riley’s words were like countless silver needles piercing my heart until it bled. I stared at her in a daze. My daughter used to cling to me the most. She would hug my leg and say over and over, “Daddy’s the best. I love Daddy most.” But she carried Hannah’s blood in her veins after all. Just like Hannah, she would immediately abandon me the moment Leo appeared. I hardened my expression. “Riley!” Riley stuck her neck out stubbornly, not thinking she was wrong at all. Just then, the door was pushed open. Hannah and Leo walked in side by side. Riley’s eyes instantly reddened as she rushed toward Leo. “Daddy Leo, I hate Jasper so much. He’s always yelling at me. Can you help me get rid of him?” Leo looked at me with disapproval in his eyes. “That’s going too far, don’t you think?” “Even if you’re Riley’s father, you can’t bully her.” “An irresponsible father like you would have custody taken away in other countries.” Hannah’s displeased gaze fell on my face. “Jasper, you’re getting more and more unreasonable.” “Go see a doctor if you’re sick.” I coldly dropped one sentence and left with my suitcase. As I got on the elevator, Leo caught up. He looked me up and down with a challenging expression. “You’re really never coming back, right, Jasper?” “Hannah’s pregnant—with my child.” I was somewhat surprised. I thought someone as proud as Hannah wouldn’t go that far. Leo’s mouth curved into a wide grin. “Hannah said she wanted to have a child with me, connected by blood.” “That’s between you two. It has nothing to do with me.” My expression didn’t change. But Leo wouldn’t let it go. He stepped closer and closer, lowering his voice. “Hannah also said that only with me does she feel alive, only with me does she understand passion.” “And you? You’re utterly boring.”

As he spoke, he backed up step by step, showing me a strange smile. Then he fell backward. The next second, a force hit me. I saw Hannah rush over like a madwoman, trying to catch Leo. But it was futile. “Bang!” Leo fell heavily down the steps. His head hit the railing, and blood gushed out. The bright red blood stung my eyes, making my whole body shudder. Not long ago, I had just experienced something exactly like this. Behind me came Riley’s wailing cry. “Daddy Leo!” “Leo, are you okay? You can’t… you can’t be hurt…” Hannah screamed desperately. She knelt helplessly in the pool of blood, gripping Leo’s hand, her voice nearly breaking. “Don’t be scared. I’ll get you to the hospital right away.” Hannah called the property management with trembling hands. When the staff arrived, several people worked together to get the unconscious Leo into the elevator. Hannah followed behind. Before getting on the elevator, she suddenly turned back, her eyes filled with hostility. “Jasper, I won’t let you get away with this.” The instant before the elevator doors fully closed, I saw Hannah press her forehead against the back of Leo’s hand. That kind of care, deep to the bone, was something I had never received in the nearly thirty years Hannah and I had known each other. Riley rushed over, hitting me repeatedly and glaring at me viciously. “You should just die! You hurt Daddy Leo. I never want to call you Dad again.” Hannah’s revenge came quickly. That evening, I received news from the hospital—my mother was about to be kicked out. “Mr. Reed, you have to understand that this hospital answers to the Smith family. We have no choice.” “Maybe you could ask Miss Smith? After all, you’re husband and wife…” The hand holding my phone was shaking. My mother’s condition had been well controlled. Victory had been within reach. Transferring hospitals now would undo all our progress. And my mother’s body couldn’t handle that kind of upheaval. Just to be safe, I quickly contacted other hospitals. But without exception, not a single hospital was willing to accept her. Either they feared the Smith family’s influence or thought my mother’s condition was too severe… I had no choice but to beg Hannah. In the hospital corridor, Hannah leaned against the wall, her demeanor growing colder. “You want to beg me to save your mother?” “Yes. According to the divorce agreement, you should let my mother continue treatment at the Smith family hospital until she recovers.” My voice was tight. Hannah sneered but didn’t respond. I took a deep breath and explained, almost humbly, “Leo wasn’t pushed by me. You can check the surveillance. He did it himself…” I was becoming incoherent. Hannah walked toward me in her high heels, step by step, her tone utterly cold. “Does it matter?” “What?” “Does the truth matter?” Hannah’s expression was haughty, carrying the air of a judge passing down sentence. “Either way, Leo fell down the stairs because of you.” I stared at Hannah in shock, the last thread in my mind snapping. I broke down and shouted, “That’s a human life, Hannah! Are you really going to watch my mother die?” “Using your mother’s life to pay for Leo’s injuries seems pretty fair to me.” A nearly cruel smile rose in Hannah’s eyes. I had no choice but to fall to my knees and kowtow to Hannah. “Please, please spare my mother. I’ll use my life to atone if I have to. I’m willing to die…” Hannah’s expression didn’t soften in the slightest. She looked at me like I was insane. “Jasper, you really look like a dog begging for scraps right now.” Right after Hannah left, I got a call from the caregiver. “Mr. Reed, I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother has passed away.” “The hospital was completely unreasonable. They just pulled the plug on her ventilator…” Boom— My world plunged into complete darkness. I handled my mother’s funeral simply, then carried her ashes to the seaside… Meanwhile, Hannah was at the hospital keeping Leo company. Leo looked at her, clearly preoccupied, and suddenly asked, “Are you worried about Jasper?” Hannah shook her head. Leo lay in the hospital bed, gently taking Hannah’s hand and speaking persuasively, “Trust me, nothing will happen.” “That serious illness was just Jasper’s act. His mother’s illness was cured long ago.” Hannah murmured in agreement. But her heart was still anxious. Until Mrs. Smith burst into the room, looking panicked. “Quick, quick, you need to issue a statement saying Jasper’s death has nothing to do with you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “367826”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic