Category: English

While scrolling on company time, my phone pushed a Reddit thread to me. [AITA for falling in love with the new intern at first sight, even though his girlfriend is also interning at the company?] Top comment: [If he has a girlfriend, give up. Do you want to be a homewrecker?] The OP replied with a long paragraph. [Let me introduce myself: 30, single, no kids, own a car and house, have savings. Except for being 8 years older than him, I don’t lose to his girlfriend in any way.] [Is it really right to give up when I finally found someone I like?] Immediately, a bunch of people popped up to give her advice. [The young couple just graduated, haven’t experienced the beatings of society or conflicts of interest. If you drive a wedge between them, they’ll probably break up!] [Support OP to pursue love bravely. I think the comment above is right. Be nice to his girlfriend, so the guy feels unbalanced. Once they argue, they’ll definitely break up.] [Then you can block the girl’s full-time offer. Won’t the company just be left with you and the guy?] I cursed silently in my heart, “Psycho,” and didn’t take it to heart. Who knew, that afternoon, Director Mandy called me and my boyfriend into her office. She said to us: “Corporate sent down a key project. Whoever gets this interview can be converted to full-time early!” Chapter 1 Hearing this, I frowned subconsciously. Probably because I just came out of that thread not long ago. So, I almost immediately associated it with the content inside. But within a second, I shook my head, throwing this thought out. How could there be such a coincidence in this world? Hearing my boyfriend Kyle say “No problem,” I quickly responded, “Yes, Director.” Seeing us both agree, Director Mandy nodded and let us leave. She doesn’t look like the OP in the thread at all. I was overthinking. I instantly threw this matter to the back of my mind. Out of the office, Kyle and I verbally drafted a gentleman’s agreement. “No matter who wins or loses, no one is allowed to be unhappy!” “No matter who gets this interview, we go out to celebrate!” We laughed tacitly. Actually, when we decided to intern at the same company, we anticipated competition. But neither of us thought this would affect our relationship. At least, a month has passed, and we both adapted very well. We don’t worry about fitting in, going to work, eating, and leaving work together every day. Boyfriend and girlfriend, and also best work buddies. I’ve said more than once that I love our current state. Kyle too. After work today, we didn’t go home together as usual but went our separate ways. I guessed Kyle would definitely go to block that CEO. So, I decided to take a different approach and contacted the CEO’s daughter. It is said that this CEO, Mr. Sterling, is a daughter-slave. Starting from his daughter might be easier to succeed. Probably because the chat was pleasant, she promised to put in a good word for me. When I returned home satisfied, I found Kyle had already cooked dinner. And he looked in a good mood. My heart skipped a beat, thinking, am I a step too late? Just thinking that, I heard Kyle say to me: “Babe, Mr. Sterling has agreed to accept my interview. You were a step late, don’t be unhappy, okay?” He couldn’t hide his joy, but there was no intention to show off. Moreover, he cooked so many dishes I love, I naturally felt happy for him. “Then congratulations in advance on becoming full-time!” I smiled. He patted my head, coaxing me: “My baby is so great, converting to full-time won’t be a problem either. When I get my salary, I’ll give it all to you to manage.” I nodded, not feeling lost because of this. Even felt sweet because of his words. So much so that I forgot to message Miss Sterling. Until I woke up the next day, I didn’t remember this. When we arrived at the company the next day, Director Mandy called me and Kyle into the office. I knew she definitely wanted to talk about the interview and the full-time offer. I was prepared to be criticized. The workplace is like this. But what I didn’t expect was that Director Mandy walked up to me. Smiling, she said: “Zoe, congratulations on getting this interview opportunity. Perform well!” As her words fell, the smiles on my and Kyle’s lips froze. Chapter 2 In the end, I reacted first, explaining subconsciously: “Director Mandy, is there a misunderstanding? Kyle got the interview opportunity!” Kyle also came back to his senses. However, he didn’t blame me immediately. Just asked with equal confusion. “Yesterday afternoon, Mr. Sterling personally agreed to accept my interview. Did something change?” Director Mandy seemed not to expect there was such a story inside. She immediately showed a surprised expression. Said: “But Mr. Sterling called me this morning, explicitly naming Zoe for the interview.” I frowned. Don’t know why, a bad premonition rose in my heart. Before I could speak, I heard Director Mandy say to me earnestly: “Zoe, I know you are boyfriend and girlfriend, but at work, there’s no need to yield to each other like this!” “I believe you have this ability. Good luck.” After speaking, she looked at Kyle again. Speaking in an educational tone: “Kyle! Competition at work is completely normal. It’s okay, missed this time, there’s always next time!” Kyle nodded. Although there was disappointment on his face. But he still said: “No matter what, this is beneficial to the company.” Director Mandy nodded, didn’t say more, and shooed us out. Outside, Kyle said to me: “It’s okay babe, do the interview well, accumulate experience!” “Don’t feel burdened, work hard.” I nodded absently, always feeling something was wrong. Just then, I received a message from Miss Sterling. I realized maybe the change was due to Miss Sterling. I hurriedly explained to her and asked her to clarify with Mr. Sterling. Miss Sterling called directly and scolded me. “If you didn’t beg me, I wouldn’t have spoken for you in front of my dad!” “Shouldn’t you be happy snatching this interview from your boyfriend? Why pretend now!” “Don’t contact me again!” With that, she hung up. Then, the message I sent turned into a red exclamation mark. I sighed in confusion, turned around, and saw Kyle standing behind me. Obviously heard the words from the phone just now, a look of disbelief on his face. I opened my mouth, about to explain. Heard him say angrily: “Zoe, if you wanted this interview opportunity, I could have given it up to you, but calculating behind my back is meaningless, right?” I was sure I didn’t calculate Kyle. But someone definitely calculated me. Just as I was about to explain my matter with Miss Sterling. I heard Director Mandy’s voice behind me. “Kyle, come to my office!” When Kyle came out of the office, it was already half an hour later. But work was busy later, and I didn’t find a chance to talk. Finally waited until lunch break, Kyle left a cold sentence: “I have something to do this noon, won’t eat with you.” With that, he turned and left. I knew he must have believed Miss Sterling’s words on the phone. No chance to explain face to face, I had to message him. But until he came back from lunch break, until off work, he didn’t reply to me. On the way back, silence all the way. After getting home, I couldn’t help asking. “Kyle, did you see what I sent you…” Before I finished, I saw him pulling out a suitcase and starting to pack. I panicked instantly, asking anxiously: “Kyle, what do you mean!?” I’ve been with Kyle since freshman year. Counting now, we’ve been together for four years. Is he going to break up with me just because of this? I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him. Heard him say: “Zoe, the interview project is yours, do it well. Director Mandy asked me to accompany her on a business trip. We’ll talk when I get back.” “Let’s both adjust our mindset.” With that, he dragged the suitcase and left the house. Accompany Director Mandy on a business trip? I frowned, thinking of something, ghost-driven, I found that thread from yesterday and clicked in. Sure enough, the OP updated. Chapter 3 [I arranged an interview project for them, let my old acquaintance agree to the guy first, then made him change to name the girl for the interview. Today the two argued in the break room.] [I’ve arranged for the guy to go on a business trip with me. Sisters, wait for my good news!] Everything matched. Now, I finally confirmed that this thread was posted by Director Mandy. I didn’t expect her to be such a person! Under this update, many netizens were camping for updates. I was furious, trembling hands commenting. [What’s the difference between this behavior and a homewrecker? You are disgusting!] My sentence quickly got a reply from Mandy. [Although taking advantage of a crisis is shameful, isn’t it useful? If I can really pry him away, maybe the other party should thank me!] Although her words made sense, I still felt suffocated. Before I could reply again, netizens started questioning me. [WTF! Same IP address. The poster is so angry, could she be the girlfriend?] [Why argue with the OP here? Getting your boyfriend back is the priority!] I knew these netizens weren’t considering for me. Just purely want to watch the drama. However, within two seconds, my comment was deleted. I gritted my teeth, clicked into WeChat, and called Kyle. He answered quickly. “Zoe, no need to explain, I saw it. I know, this isn’t your fault!” “I’ll bring you gifts when I come back from the trip.” He said to me in that gentle tone he used to have. Hearing his words, my heart calmed down inexplicably. Yeah! I’ve been with Kyle for so long, we have so many beautiful memories. How could I doubt him because of a thread! Mandy said one thing right, if she could really pry Kyle away. It would help me see Kyle clearly instead. Thinking this way, I wasn’t angry anymore. However, uncontrollably, I couldn’t help but click into the thread. Mandy didn’t update for a long time, Kyle reported to me all the time. As if this conflict didn’t affect our relationship. I gradually felt relieved. Until the night before he came back from the trip, we were FaceTiming as usual. Not long after, there was a knock on the door over there. Immediately, I heard Mandy’s voice. “Little Song (Kyle), the shower in my room is broken, can I borrow yours?” Kyle obviously didn’t think much, agreed immediately. I became alert. Wanted to ask Kyle to go out and call me. But unexpectedly, before I could speak, Kyle hung up hurriedly. My good mood vanished instantly. [Don’t hang up on me! Call me back right now!] [Kyle, I’m going to be angry!] No reply to the messages sent. I called back. Still unable to connect. Several minutes passed before Kyle replied to my message. [Zoe, I have something to do, talk later.] What could he have to do? A man and a woman alone, what could happen? I wanted to trust him, but found it hard in this situation. I kept refreshing the page, but didn’t get his “talk later.” Until 3 AM, my heart gradually became cold and numb. I stopped messaging him. But seeing the thread update, I couldn’t help clicking in. Saw Mandy’s latest update at a glance. [These days I’ve been trying physical contact with him. Although he avoided it, I can feel he doesn’t resist me.] [Going back tomorrow. I used the excuse of a broken shower to enter his room. Yes, we kissed. I asked if he did this with his girlfriend, he said no.] [I asked if he wanted to try with me. He was moved, but stopped in the end. Said he couldn’t sorry his girlfriend.] [Sisters! What should I do now?] These words stabbed my heart like needles, making me breathless. I knew Mandy might have written this for me to see, maybe not true. But if not true, why didn’t Kyle reply to me? My eyes reddened, already deciding to break up with Kyle. I even packed my luggage. But unexpectedly, just before I said breakup. Kyle suddenly said to me: “Zoe, I plan to resign.” Chapter 4 I froze then. Didn’t know what he meant by saying this now. Because we were at work, he didn’t explain much, and I didn’t ask. I only knew he wrote a resignation letter and submitted it then. But I couldn’t be happy at all. Didn’t sleep all night, eyes sore and dry, mind chaotic. Normally, I should be happy now. But thinking of those words I saw yesterday, I couldn’t smile. Thought, let’s make it clear after work. Not long after Kyle submitted his resignation, he was called into the office. Came out ten minutes later. When he came out, I saw a very obvious wound on the corner of his mouth. And this wound wasn’t there before entering the office. Almost without thinking deep, I knew what happened. I curled my lips mockingly, finding my thought just now funny. Since betrayal is a fact, there’s nothing to talk about. During lunch, I clicked into the thread again. Sure enough, Mandy updated again. [The little boy is quite innocent, actually wants to resign! Pity, I didn’t agree.] [I said if he sleeps with me for one night, I’ll approve his resignation, and won’t trouble his girlfriend in the future.] Seeing her words, I felt disgusted instantly, lost appetite. Ate two bites hurriedly, returned to my desk. Mandy’s thread continued updating. Netizens asked her: [Then what do you do? Giving up?] [Sigh, listening to OP’s description, feels the guy is interested in you too. Probably conflicted. Feels hard to make the guy initiate breakup, better let the girl break up!] [Hiss! Sister you’re bold! The guy hasn’t done it yet, just make him addicted to your body!] Mandy liked the last comment. Replied: [Men, can’t withstand temptation!] Then replied to everyone: [Don’t worry, I have a plan. Not only can I make him initiate breakup, but also make the girl resign voluntarily!] Under this sentence, everyone commented waiting for her good news. I felt uneasy. I can accept Kyle falling for someone else, can accept work not going smoothly. But I can’t accept work and relationship failing simultaneously. I don’t know what she wants to do, but felt this is an opportunity. Since she wants to harm me so much, I’ll let her know what harming others eventually harms oneself means. After work, I stopped Kyle. “I have something to tell you!” “We…” Let’s break up. Before the last three words came out, Kyle interrupted. “Zoe, I have something to tell you too, but I have something tonight, tell you tomorrow!” With that, he turned and left. Instantly, I thought of the thread content. Looking at the direction he disappeared, I couldn’t help curling my lips. Until this moment, I was finally completely disappointed in this man. Mandy was right, men can’t withstand temptation. Since he can’t hold the bottom line, I don’t want him! That night back home, I moved my luggage to my friend’s house. Knowing this, my friend angrily scolded Mandy in the thread for over an hour. But the other party was probably busy with “business,” didn’t see the post. Instead, many netizens came to watch the drama. “Pissing me off!” Hearing my friend’s voice, I patted her arm. Smiled: “Busy is good, busy is good!” Before my friend could react to what I meant. I clicked the share link on the top right, sharing this thread to the company group chat. Accurately, the big company group. Then sent two messages: [Bestie, help me look, why do I feel the people in this thread look like my boss and boyfriend?] [They just went on a business trip together two days ago, today my boyfriend isn’t coming home either.] My friend’s eyes widened, silently giving me a thumbs up. In a while, surprised emojis appeared in the group chat. My heart felt instantly refreshed! However, within two seconds, the phone rang. It was Kyle calling. Answering, heard his questioning voice from over there: “Zoe, what are you posting in the company group? Recall it quickly!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390179”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 Two years after my husband vanished, presumed dead, I sold everything for his mother’s medical bills. It wasn’t enough. On the day of her funeral, he returned. Seeing the sales contracts and her urn, he didn’t look at me with love, but with pure hatred. “I gave you my world, Sarah. The moment I was gone, you sold everything and let my mother die alone.” He never let me explain. The man I knew died that day, replaced by a cold playboy. He spent lavishly on other women but wouldn’t spare a dollar for the medicine I needed. When I was diagnosed, I bought myself a simple urn with my last money. He laughed and gave it to his new girlfriend for her dog’s water bowl. Seeing that, I didn’t break. I smiled. He looked confused. “Tired of playing the victim? Trying a new tactic?” he sneered. … A ripple of laughter went through the room from his latest conquest. I just shook my head, my smile never wavering. “No,” I said, my voice calm and clear. “I’m just grateful. You’ve finally allowed my heart to die completely. Now I can leave with no attachments.” Hearing that, Declan’s gaze turned to ice. “Leave?” He scoffed. “Sarah, you’re an orphan. You have no one. You’ve only survived this long because of me. Without me, without the Blackwood name, where could you possibly go?” I listened to his contemptuous words and felt nothing. I offered no defense. I simply turned and walked toward the small, forgotten room he’d relegated me to, the one he used for storage. As I reached the door, a searing pain ripped through my lungs. I stumbled, gripping the doorframe, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood to keep from coughing. Behind me, his girlfriend’s voice dripped with saccharine poison. “Declan, darling, look at her. She’s such a mess, it’s depressing. Let’s just go upstairs and watch a movie.” Declan let out an impatient sigh. “Fine. Let’s go. Don’t let her ruin the evening.” Their footsteps faded as they headed upstairs. I shuffled into the small room, each step an agony. I collapsed onto the old, lumpy mattress, curling into a ball as pain radiated through me. It felt like my bones were being pulled apart and crudely snapped back together. Every movement was a fresh wave of torture. There was no point in asking him for help again. I’d tried, just last week. The pain had been unbearable, and I had dragged myself into the living room where he was lounging on the sofa, feeding slices of mango to his flavor of the week. “Declan,” I’d hesitated, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m in so much pain. Could you… could you spare some money for painkillers?” He’d glanced up, a mocking smirk on his face. “Faking an illness for attention again? Sarah, you’ve played this card a thousand times. Can’t you come up with something new?” The girl beside him giggled, covering her mouth. “Declan, I think she’s just jealous seeing us so happy. She’s trying to make you feel sorry for her.” Declan pulled out his wallet, peeled off a thick wad of cash, and threw it on the floor. “You want money? There it is. Kneel and pick it up. Every bill you grab is yours.” I didn’t kneel. I just swallowed the pain and the humiliation, turned around, and walked back to my storage room. From that day on, I never asked him for another cent. As night deepened, the pain intensified until I couldn’t bear it. I fumbled under the mattress for my savings. Seventy-three dollars and fifty cents. It was all I had left, scraped together from the meager food budget I allowed myself. I hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. Swallowing solid food was like swallowing glass, so I’d been living on thin broth, just enough to keep me alive. Seventy-three dollars and fifty cents. Not even enough for a single dose of the good painkillers. Just then, I heard footsteps outside my door, followed by the sound of laughter. I quickly shoved the small bundle of cash back under the bed and curled up in the corner, feigning sleep. It was Tiffany’s cloying voice. “Declan, is that sick little thing still here? Isn’t she just taking up space?” Declan’s voice was laced with annoyance. “Let her stay. It’s not like she can do anything.” Tiffany whined, “But I don’t like her. Having her around just gives me the creeps.” Declan chuckled, his tone shifting to one of indulgence. “Shh, baby. Just ignore her. Let’s go upstairs.” But she wasn’t done. “No, I mean it! I’m bringing my dog over tomorrow, and I don’t want her scaring him.” Declan sighed, a sound of weary surrender. “Alright, alright, whatever you want. Bring the dog tomorrow. He can have the whole yard to himself.” Their voices and footsteps receded down the hall until there was only silence. I knew he didn’t really not care. He kept me here for a reason. He wanted to watch me suffer, to see me waste away in this dark corner like a stray dog. He wanted to see me broken and full of regret. He was convinced I couldn’t live without him, that I was clinging to the Blackwood family for money and status. He believed my entire life, my every action, was just a performance. 2 By the time the pain subsided to a dull ache, the sky was already turning a pale grey. I pulled an old tin box from beneath my bed, a secret I had guarded for a long time. Inside were the small trinkets Declan had given me before he disappeared. The stubs from our first movie date. We sat in the back row, and he’d secretly taken my hand in the dark. He had leaned in, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, “Sarah, I promise I’m going to give you the best life. I’ll give you everything.” A faded photograph of the ugliest cake imaginable. He had tried to bake it for my birthday himself. The frosting was lumpy, the fruit was sliding off one side. “It’s one-of-a-kind, Sarah. Just for you.” He hadn’t had money for a fancy cake back then, so he’d spent the entire afternoon destroying the kitchen to make me one. I stared at these relics, a familiar warmth spreading behind my eyes, but there was no hope left in my heart. For a year, during his absence, these things had been my lifeline. I’d look at them every single day, praying he was still alive somewhere, imagining how he would hold me and soothe my pain when he finally came home. But when he came home, all he saw were sales contracts and an urn. He didn’t want an explanation. He only believed the story he saw with his own eyes. He had decided I was a gold-digger who had stolen everything and left his mother to die. Suddenly, the door was kicked open with a deafening crash. I jumped, and the photograph slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor. Declan stood in the doorway, his face a thunderous mask. He reeked of whiskey, and his eyes held a vicious glint I’d never seen before. His gaze fell to the open box in my hands, then to the scattered tickets and the photo on the floor. The coldness in his eyes deepened into a glacial frost. He strode into the room, snatched the tin box from my grasp, and slammed it onto the ground. Its contents scattered across the dirty floor. The ticket stubs were crumpled, and he brought his heel down on the photograph, grinding it into the floorboards. A sharp sting went through my chest as I watched my memories being destroyed. But my face remained a blank canvas. I just looked at him. He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “What’s this? Taking a trip down memory lane with this junk? Trying to make me feel sorry for you?” Looking at his twisted, hateful face, I felt a strange sense of release. All the sweet memories that had been carved into my soul, the hope that had carried me through countless nights of despair—it was all a joke. I shook my head slowly. “None of this matters anymore. I just want you to leave me in peace for my final days.” Declan looked at me as if I’d told the world’s most absurd joke and let out a harsh, barking laugh. “Your final days? You really commit to the act, don’t you? What’s the endgame here, a big fat severance check?” He looked down at me, his lip curled. “Name your price. How much will it take for you to get out of my house and out of my life? I’ll give you enough to live comfortably for the rest of your miserable years.” I didn’t answer him. I just slowly knelt and began to gather the scattered pieces of my past. 3 The movie stubs were torn. The photograph was cracked. I picked up the fragments, one by one, and placed them back into the dented tin box. The pain in my lungs flared again, sharper this time. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let him see me cough. Declan watched me, his frown deepening. “What game are you playing now, Sarah? Do you think this pathetic display will make me pity you?” “You know exactly what you did!” he roared. “It was always about the money, wasn’t it? Is money really that important to you?” I ignored him, continuing my quiet task. Suddenly, he lunged forward and kicked the box out of my hands. “Stop picking up that trash! It should have been thrown out years ago.” I looked up at him, my voice eerily calm. “Declan, you win.” “You succeeded in making me love you, and you succeeded in making me fall out of love.” He froze, clearly not expecting those words. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “What did you say?” I pushed myself to my feet, the pain so intense I couldn’t stand up straight. I remained hunched over, my body trembling. “I won’t ask you for another penny. I won’t cling to you. And I won’t play the victim anymore.” “I just want to leave. Quietly.” Declan’s expression shifted. “Leave? Where do you think you’re going?” A small, tired smile touched my lips. “Anywhere is better than here. As long as it’s not in the Blackwood house. As long as it’s not near you.” “I’d rather be a nobody in a town where no one knows my name. I’d rather lie on the side of the road than stay by your side for another minute.” He stared at me, a flicker of something—was it panic?—in his eyes. His tone changed abruptly. “You think you can just walk out of here? The gates to this house aren’t a revolving door.” I didn’t reply. I just slowly turned away from him. The wind outside howled, whipping my hair around my face, but I felt lighter than I had in years. I knew I might not make it out of the Blackwood estate. I knew my body was failing. But I didn’t care anymore. When your heart is dead, what’s the difference between living and dying? The burning in my lungs became unbearable. A cough escaped my lips, then another. The metallic taste of blood filled my throat. I pressed a hand to my mouth, but it was too late. A violent spasm wracked my body, and I coughed up blood onto the floor. Declan saw the crimson drops. His pupils constricted in shock. “You’re coughing up blood?” I didn’t turn around. “It’s nothing,” I whispered. He rushed forward, reaching for my arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I recoiled from his touch, my voice barely audible but sharp as a razor. “Don’t touch me, Declan. Don’t you dare touch me.” “You’re filthy.” His hand froze in mid-air. The panic in his eyes was undeniable now. “Are you… are you really sick?” I didn’t answer. I just gathered my few belongings. “I have to go.” He hesitated, his gaze flicking between me and the blood on the floor. Just then, Tiffany pranced into the room, her little dog trotting at her heels. In that moment of his indecision, I walked out. A friend found me a small place to stay. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for the time I had left. I started writing my will. I had nothing of value to leave, just a few words I needed to say. 4 Back at the Blackwood mansion, Declan was a storm of restless energy. Ever since I’d left, an unbearable agitation had taken root in his heart. He locked himself in his study, smashing priceless vases against the wall. When Tiffany tried to coax him out, he threw her out of the room without a second thought. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Something felt profoundly, fundamentally wrong, but a part of him refused to examine it too closely. He had built his entire reality on a single, unwavering belief: I was a greedy, heartless woman who had stolen his fortune and caused his mother’s death. Then he remembered his assistant had organized some old files from that year. He decided to find them, to look at the proof one last time, to solidify his hatred and kill this gnawing uncertainty for good. He searched for what felt like hours before finally locating the correct file. But as he read through the documents—bank transfers, hospital invoices, pharmacy receipts—a cold dread began to creep into his veins. It felt like the very foundation of his world was cracking beneath his feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed his car keys and sped to the city hospital. He burst into the office of his mother’s former physician. “Tell me what really happened when my mother was sick,” he demanded. “Sarah… did she use the money from selling my assets to pay for my mother’s treatment?” The doctor looked at Declan, his expression one of pure confusion. “Mr. Blackwood, why are you asking this? Surely you knew how dire your mother’s condition was? She was in the final stages. She could have been gone at any moment. It was your wife, Ms. Sarah, who fought to give her more time. She sold everything she could.” The doctor continued, his voice softening. “I saw her once, in the hospital corridor, eating a dry piece of bread. She was just sitting there, chewing and crying silently. When I asked what was wrong, she just shook her head and said she felt like she’d failed your mother, that she couldn’t make her well again.” “Every single dollar from those sales was wired directly to the hospital’s account to cover medical fees and surgical procedures. As her primary physician, I saw every transaction. If it weren’t for her, your mother would never have held on long enough for you to come back. She would have been gone months earlier.” “Mr. Blackwood, your wife sacrificed everything for your mother, for your family. How could you not know? How could you ever doubt her?” Declan stood frozen, his body rigid, his mind a roaring void. The facts he had clung to, the reasons for his burning hatred, had all just turned to ash. The doctor was still speaking, but the words were a meaningless buzz in Declan’s ears. The world tilted, black spots dancing in his vision. After a long silence, he finally managed to force out a question, his voice a ragged whisper. “Doctor… Sarah… how is she now? Her health?” The doctor’s face fell. He shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “Ms. Sarah came in for a check-up a while ago. It’s late-stage lung cancer, Mr. Blackwood. She doesn’t have much time left.” “She said she didn’t want treatment. She just wants to live out her final days in peace.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390196”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I like Xavier Vance, this is a secret. Because he and my sister Chloe are Childhood Sweethearts. Since childhood, the two grandfathers set an Arranged Marriage Pact for them. I thought I hid my little crush unknowingly. But Chloe accidentally discovered my secret diary. “Zoe, are you crazy? He is your future brother-in-law.” “How can you be so shameless?” That year, I actively applied for a school out of state. Packed up and moved out of the house, never went back. I thought I would never have any interaction with Xavier again in this life. Until tracking a news story. I was besieged by a group of mysterious bodyguards in a hotel. “Watch the fire exits and elevator exits. “Search every room!” … Chapter 1 Hearing rushed footsteps coming from the corridor outside the door. My entire back was soaked with sweat from nervousness. Last week, a junior reporter from our network, just because he interviewed a person involved. Was put in a sack in the underground garage and had three ribs broken. “Hello hello.” Assistant Mia’s anxious voice came from the earpiece. “What to do Zoe, how about I call the police first.” “You absolutely cannot have any mishaps, I’m scared.” I wiped cold sweat, looked at the suite terrace direction, gritted teeth and pried out the SD Card. “Don’t worry, I have a way to hide.” Just the moment I climbed over the terrace glass fence. The sound of key card swiping came from the door. Several bodyguards in black suits quickly rushed into the room. “Where is the person?” “This is the top floor, impossible to run away.” Watching the voices getting closer and closer. I stuffed the SD card into my mouth, dived headfirst into the open-air pool next door. Just swam a few steps, head suddenly hit a “wall”. I grabbed randomly twice, then suddenly realized the touch was not right. Why is there a person in the water? Water rippled, I didn’t see the person’s face clearly. But now can’t care so much. I bowed twice to him in the water, silently said. “Please, save me.” In the moment of crisis, that person just slightly stunned, then calmly surfaced. Then a big hand quickly wrapped around my neck. Pressed my long hair floating on the water surface down. Afraid of uncontrollably floating up. I could only rudely hug that person’s hard waist tight. I couldn’t hear what they said clearly. Could only feel the hard abs in front of me scraping my face with every sentence he spoke. Don’t know exactly how long passed. Before I felt my lungs were about to completely explode in the next second. That big hand wrapped again, fished me out of the water. Chapter 2 Mind full of thanks haven’t had chance to speak, even breath haven’t had time to catch. The moment I surfaced. I saw Xavier Vance’s cloud-light wind-light face. Heart fiercely twitched. How could it be him? I subconsciously grabbed a bath towel from the side and buckled it on my head. Xavier just stood in the water like that, didn’t move. He stared at my two exposed eyes for several seconds, then asked: “Need to call police?” I hurriedly shook my head like a rattle drum. “Wait for people outside to leave, I’ll have someone send you out.” No other way. I nodded while climbing up the pool edge embarrassedly. After getting ashore, didn’t forget to bow properly to Xavier to express thanks. But he directly treated me as air, dived into water and swam two laps again. Sitting on the chair by the pool, I couldn’t help secretly rejoicing. Good thing the light is dim. Good thing he didn’t have much impression of me originally. Just carefully wiping the SD card, Xavier’s phone on the table aside rang. I glanced at the screen from inside the tightly covered bath towel. Only one word on it. “Chloe.” Phone rang fully three times, Xavier then slowly walked ashore, directly pressed speaker. My eyes for a time didn’t know where to put, but ears still subconsciously pricked up. “Xavier, my birthday party in a few days, you must come.” “All old classmates, lively together.” Night wind blew a bit cold, I could only curl up body to cover myself tighter. Chatted for four or five minutes, but mostly Chloe talking herself. Before hanging up, she didn’t forget to add gently. “I also haven’t seen you for a long time.” When my thoughts drifted far away, hotel waiter pushed dining cart and sent many foods. Xavier pushed a plate of exquisite dim sum to me. I hurriedly waved hand, pressing voice pretending polite said: “You are too polite. But thanks, no need.” Xavier looked at me, then looked down at the dining plate. “Didn’t you like eating these when you were little?” “…” Chapter 3 A week has passed since accidentally bumping into Xavier at the hotel. The news about fake socialites plus plastic surgery yin-yang contracts I risked to shoot has also been successfully reported and broadcasted. But I still haven’t recovered from the panic, occasionally disconnecting suddenly. “Zoe.” Editor-in-chief called me several times, then pulled my three souls and seven spirits back. “This is Mr. Liu, our network’s biggest Sponsor this year.” “Hello, I am Zoe Sterling from Kyoto TV.” Originally just wanted to shake hands politely. Didn’t expect hand just extended was grabbed by Mr. Liu. Greasy fat fingertips rubbed back and forth on back of my hand several times. That mouth squeezing out some saliva with every move. Was full of irregular big yellow teeth. “Good, good.” He patted back of my hand twice again. “Really young and promising.” “I remember that quite hot social section headline of your network a few days ago, was Little Zoe’s right.” I smiled and withdrew my hand. “Mr. Liu you flatter me.” Editor-in-chief of course saw my non-cooperation. Glared at me without trace, whispered. “Zoe, ability is ability.” “But only having professional ethics, can’t survive in TV station.” “Your program ratings are good, but sponsorship you pull every year is always bottom.” “Being pulled hand won’t lose a piece of meat, don’t fake noble.” “Don’t forget my purpose of bringing you to dinner.” My heart felt physiological nausea, but still nodded. Suddenly, peripheral vision glimpsed outside private room door, seemed a somewhat familiar figure flashed past. But before my brain reacted, was pushed out by editor-in-chief. “Don’t always daze, go toast Mr. Liu a glass.” Chapter 4 Said one glass. Actually one glass after another. Not few rounds, I already started dizzy and brain swollen, walking like stepping on cotton. But I just drilled into restroom, editor-in-chief followed in. She was aggressive, a look of asking for guilt. “Zoe, everyone waiting for you a junior, is this good?” “Did you listen to my words or not?” “Such a good opportunity for you, you still push three push four.” “Do you know, how much money Liu invested in Pam’s program last year alone.” “Didn’t ask you to do anything, just drink two glasses of wine. Who are you showing this reluctant face to.” My tongue indeed not as useful as when sober. Mumbled for a long time didn’t say a word. Editor-in-chief rolled eyes, reached out to pull me back. At this time, a person slowly walked out from the men’s room aside. My heart fiercely jumped twice. Just now I indeed didn’t see wrong. Editor-in-chief’s action of pulling people, after seeing clearly the comer is Xavier, directly froze halfway. She probably froze for two or three seconds. Suddenly 360 degree face change. Piling full face smile, threw away my arm hurriedly leaned towards target. “Mr. Vance? Really is you.” “Our Director wanted to appoint a meeting with you before, always no chance.” “Isn’t this coincidental?” “Are you dining here? Really so coincidental hahaha.” “Don’t know when you have time, we really want to do an exclusive interview with you.” Xavier had no expression. Just while washing hands looked at me through mirror. Probably quiet for a few breaths, Xavier then lightly opened mouth. “Your network’s style of liking employees to accompany drinking for sponsorship, I don’t quite like.” “So, no need.” Editor-in-chief’s smile instantly froze on face. She dryly opened mouth several times, but didn’t say a word. Xavier pulled out handkerchief wiped, bypassed editor-in-chief and walked out. I actually was more nervous than editor-in-chief, clenched fists bit tight teeth. When he passed by me, I didn’t even dare to lift head. Just when Xavier walked to the door, he suddenly stopped, turned back. “Zoe, follow up.” Chapter 5 Under editor-in-chief’s pupil suddenly shrinking gaze. I awkwardly followed Xavier out of the restaurant. “Dizzy?” I shook head. “Want vomit?” I still shook head. “Live where?” I shook head again. Then suddenly woke up, hurriedly reported an address string. Car drove not fast not slow. A very light but familiar woody scent uncontrollably drilled into nose. Probably sophomore year high school, school anniversary party. Xavier as outstanding graduate was invited back to do opening speech. I was host of the party, but period came moment before going on stage. White dress was dyed red a big patch. Stage lights already on, simply no time for me to change clothes. Xavier took off his suit jacket handed to me. He said “Go, it’s okay.” Later when he gave speech he only wore that light blue shirt. And I draped that jacket whole time. From that day, my brain dead remembered Xavier’s scent. This jacket actually still with me. Because he didn’t ask me for it, I also greedily didn’t return. “Chloe’s birthday party, you going back?” I was interrupted thoughts by sudden question, hurriedly turned face to other side relieve guilt. “I, recently quite busy.” “Should, not go back right.” Xavier nodded, didn’t pursue asking. Car soon drove to community gate. “Can walk yourself?” I nodded like pounding garlic. “Can, actually I didn’t drink much.” I deliberately widened eyes stuck out chest, showing I am very energetic. But first step out of car, thump a kneel kowtowed to opposite big tree. Xavier wanted get off help me. “Don’t, you don’t move.” I hurriedly hugged big tree stood up on spot. “I just stepped on air.” “Thanks for sending me back, Bro…” Brother-in-law these two words finally didn’t shout out. I used all body strength, walked a straight line step by step forward. This moment, I just want hurry escape from behind that burning gaze range.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390212”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I am the Billionaire CEO’s “The One That Got Away”. I’m dying of illness and want to return to New York for surgery, but my brother tries every way to stop me from returning. He firmly believes that if I return, the CEO will abandon his “Rebound” (the substitute). He is the ultimate Simp for the substitute. “If you’re sick, just endure it, no rush to save you.” “Surgery a few days later won’t kill anyone, they are about to get married.” To survive, I bit the bullet and called the CEO: “Heard I am the one that got away, can you pick me up to return to the country?” Heard when I called, they were holding the wedding. The CEO abandoned the bride and guests, took a flight overnight to rush over. … Chapter 1 In the hospital ward, other patients were surrounded by family members asking about their health, only I lay lonely on the bed. My brother Sebastian’s cold and scoffing voice came from the phone: “Not sick earlier, not sick later, just when Lila is about to hold a wedding with Julian Vance, you are sick to death?” “You really never change, lying becomes nature, do you think I will believe?” “I tell you, stop having crooked ideas, seeking life and death is useless to me, even if you are dying, you have to endure for me, endure until they finish the wedding.” I lay weakly on the bed, tears flowing chillingly, begging him with a trembling voice: “Brother, I didn’t act, beg you, let me go back to New York okay?” “The doctor said, this surgery only Dr. Foster, who has the most surgical experience in the country, can do it, only then I have hope to live.” “My illness, really can’t delay anymore, if you don’t believe, I let the doctor tell you.” I pressed the speaker button, begging the attending doctor to prove for me. The doctor said I didn’t lie, indeed critically ill, urgently need to return to the country for surgery. My brother was unmoved: “Surgery a few days later won’t kill anyone, they are about to get married, you endure a bit more.” The attending doctor was furious, scolding through the phone: “How do you be a brother? Your sister is critically ill, you still want her to endure? I tell you, delay any longer, miss the best surgery time, even if return to the country for surgery, it will be powerless to save, don’t regret then.” My brother laughed coldly: “I won’t regret. You doctors have nothing better to do, actually accompanying her to act against conscience. Just letting her return a few days late is powerless to save? If she insists on making trouble like this, then never come back.” I clenched the fabric over my heart, held back tears instantly burst. Turns out brother still doesn’t believe? “Brother, how can you believe, do you have to wait until I die, holding my Urn back to the country, then believe?” My voice was too hoarse, too indignant. My brother was silent for a while, seemed moved. At this time my dad’s voice came from the other end of the phone: “Serena’s call, what’s wrong with her?” “She said she is critically ill, needs to return immediately for surgery.” My dad disapproved: “What surgery can’t be done in London, must go back to New York? Foreign medical conditions are clearly better than domestic. Does this child want to come back to destroy Lila’s wedding? Find an excuse also don’t know to find a more reasonable one.” “I tell you, although Lila is only my stepdaughter, she is also your sister. As a brother, you can’t favor one over another, only love Serena, not love Lila.” “Lila is about to marry Julian, absolutely no moths can come out at this time. How lethal the return of ‘The One That Got Away’ is, you are also a man, you should understand.” My brother’s momentary hesitation was instantly washed away. “I know, forget it, ignore her first.” Then, the phone was abruptly hung up. The busy tone of “beep beep” came from the receiver, like a heartless slap, fiercely hitting the begging face of a dying person. So cold, so painful, painful that I couldn’t breathe. Turns out the brother who held me in his palm and loved me when I was young, really became Lila’s Simp. He is still that sister-spoiling maniac, but the one spoiled is no longer me, his biological sister, but the stepsister Lila who has no blood relation. Do I have to die of illness to get their cheap regret and collapse? But, what use is that? I don’t want the spiritual victory method of dead person literature. I want to save myself! Chapter 2 In the following days, I searched for famous doctors abroad, sent my medical records to them, but they all shook their heads. “Can’t do it, this surgery is very difficult, only Dr. Foster in New York, who has the most surgical experience, can do it personally, you have hope to live.” “Who said foreign medical skills are better than domestic? Talking about surgical experience, doctors in your country dare say second, no one dares say first, especially doctors in your public hospitals.” “Dr. Foster is the most authoritative surgeon in this field, known as the number one knife in surgery globally.” I emailed Dr. Foster, asking if he could go abroad to operate on me? Dr. Foster replied in the email: [Sorry, due to family reasons, I am restricted from leaving the country. Your illness allows no delay, I suggest you return immediately, come to the hospital to register my number, I can arrange surgery for you as soon as possible.] But I can’t return, passport confiscated, and bodyguards watching me 24 hours. Those bodyguards were long bought by Lila. That day I heard my brother call the bodyguard in the ward with my own ears: “Is Serena really sick?” The bodyguard stood outside the ward and said: “Young Master, Miss is not sick.” The attending doctor was more anxious than me. “Serena, no matter what, you must return immediately. I have contacted Dr. Foster, as soon as you get off the plane, they will send an ambulance to the airport to pick you up.” I closed my eyes, weeping in despair. “Is it that I don’t want to return?” The attending doctor turned to any doctor he could find: “Then call Julian Vance, don’t they all say you are Julian’s ‘The One That Got Away’? Can’t the billionaire come to pick you up if you don’t return?” But Julian doesn’t love me at all. Before it was me chasing him, chasing very hard. Saying I am his white moonlight, I don’t believe it a thousand times, don’t know who spread this word, too ridiculous. Hard to say, I could only say: “You also said, I just went abroad, not flew out of earth. If I am really his white moonlight, if I am really his must-have, he would have gone abroad to find me long ago, why find a substitute?” The attending doctor snatched my phone: “Still have to call, what is his number? I dial for you.” I reported a string of numbers, but I dared not hold any fantasy. Chapter 3 “Hello, are you Julian Vance? Heard Serena is your white moonlight, can you tell Serena’s family, even if white moonlight returns, you won’t abandon the substitute? She can’t return now because she is your white moonlight.” Julian sneered and refused: “She thinks too highly of herself. From the moment she stepped out of the country, I treat her as dead.” I couldn’t help choking, his words were like a slap on my burning face, extremely embarrassing. I shook my head to the attending doctor: “Forget it, I don’t want to humiliate myself.” The attending doctor was angry, roared at Julian through the phone: “What if she is really dying soon?” Julian was startled: “What do you mean?” “Literal meaning, she has a very serious illness, no one dares to do this surgery abroad, only Dr. Foster in your country’s Mount Sinai Hospital personally operates, she has possibility to live. But her brother doesn’t let her return. If you have no interest in her, make it clear to her brother, don’t let people misunderstand she is the white moonlight in your heart, causing her to die in a foreign land. Time left for her is really not much.” Yes, if I am not the white moonlight in Julian’s heart at all, can he tell my brother. As long as I am not a stumbling block on Lila’s road to happiness, my brother will allow me to return. Suddenly, Lila’s happy voice came from the phone: “Julian, who are you talking to? The priest is asking you, do you willing?” “Guests are all waiting, if not a particularly important call, can you wait until the wedding ceremony is over to continue?” I then realized, what was playing in the phone was the Wedding March. Really nice, melody of happiness. No wonder my brother said I have to wait a few more days to return. So at this moment, Julian is holding a wedding with Lila? Calling him at his wedding, indeed humiliating myself. Probably he thought I wanted to make trouble at his wedding? I have imagined the happy wedding banquet, full of guests, my dad, my brother are all watching this new couple. The priest repeated again: “Mr. Julian Vance, do you willing to take Lila as your wife? Whether she is rich or poor in the future, whether she is healthy or unwell in the future, are you willing to be with her forever?” I immediately snatched the phone back from the attending doctor, hung up. I don’t want to hear Julian say on the other end: “I do.” Chapter 4 This day, my illness worsened, repeatedly fever, fell into nightmare. Dreamed of childhood, Dad loved me, Brother loved me, but all this changed flavor after Lila mother and daughter came to the house. After Mom died, Dad planned never to marry again. Five years ago met Lila’s mom, that woman looked exactly like my mom, even Lila looked extremely like my mom when young, more like my mom than me. Dad finally couldn’t resist the temptation of substitute literature. Even my brother said: “You just imagine her as our mom, imagine Lila as a sister mom gave birth to again, can’t you?” Cannot! Of course cannot! That is my mom, how can I allow a woman to wear my mom’s face, occupy everything of my mom. Even the jewelry my mom liked most before death, the wedding ring dad gave mom when married, were worn on that woman. I cried, I made noise, I tried every way to drive that pair of mother and daughter out of the house, but became the unreasonable bad girl in everyone’s eyes. Family who once loved me hurt me, only left guard against me. Suddenly, persistent phone ring woke me up. Dazedly I saw “Brother” two words jumping on the screen. I immediately answered the phone, thinking if Julian and Lila’s wedding is done, my brother finally allowed me to return? But my brother’s furious voice came from the phone: “Must you be so vicious? Must you force Lila to death to be willing?” “You have love from me and Dad, what does Lila have?” “She is just a girl with no sense of security. For love she would rather be your substitute. She has sacrificed to this point for love, why do you still want to destroy her wedding?” “Do you know, your one phone call made Julian drop the wedding and abandon her. We all couldn’t pull him back. So many guests watching, everyone laughing at Lila overestimating herself, deluding to replace you, but slapped in face by white moonlight’s one call.” “Now Lila became the laughing stock of the whole city, forced unable to live, can only jump off building, you satisfied?” “Touch your own conscience, if she has any mishap, can you sleep peacefully in this life?” Pfft— Anxious fire attacked heart, I vomited a mouthful of blood. Doctor said I can’t be stimulated anymore, but did my brother speak human words? “Brother, why don’t you touch your own conscience and ask, do I really have love from you and Dad?” “Who would be loved to almost dying, crying and begging can’t return to country?” “Lila jumps off building, you heart ache. I lie lonely on foreign hospital bed, have you heart ached?” “I regret, I shouldn’t extravagantly hope you still love me like when young.” “You long aren’t that brother who loved me, you have no heart!” When I spoke, the medical instrument alarm kept beeping. Nurse ran over to look, shouted: “Not good, Bed 18 patient blood pressure rising rapidly, heart beating too fast, danger of sudden death anytime. Dr. Du, call Dr. Du quickly, Bed 18 critical…” My brother probably heard the nurse’s words, voice unstable: “What happened to you? Is someone cooperating with you to act again?” “Serena, you speak to me, not allowed to scare brother! Heard not? Speak!” “Not speak then give phone to bodyguard, I want to hear them say, immediately, right now!” Really funny, I am dying, he still firmly believes I am acting? My heart is desolate, what else to say? Give to bodyguard, let bodyguard open eyes tell lies, tell him I am not sick? Nothing is greater than heart death. I really don’t want to be the heroine of dead person literature, but fate refuses to give me a trace of favor. Wait, my brother seemed to say on the phone just now, Julian dropped wedding abandoned Lila, everyone couldn’t pull him back? Is this really not my hallucination? At this time, my brother’s assistant’s voice vaguely came from the other end: “Young Master, Julian went abroad. Old Master Vance ordered dozens of bodyguards to block him at airport but couldn’t block.” “He was like a beast suddenly went crazy, god block kill god, buddha block kill buddha. I have never seen such a terrifying man.” “Also, I just got news, Julian never thought of marrying Miss Lila. Even without Miss Serena’s call, Julian wouldn’t say ‘I do’ three words. He entered the trap himself, originally wanted to play this at the wedding scene to destroy Lila.” Play what to destroy Lila? I am too curious to see. Did Julian really come to pick me up back to country? But, seems, already too late. I saw many doctors swarming towards me, giving me shots, shining flashlight on my eyelids. But my vision became darker and darker, darker and darker…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390229”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My phone buzzed. I was mid-meeting, pitching a new feature to the executive team, but I risked a glance at the screen. The family group chat. Adam had tagged me, attaching an Excel file. I tapped it open. The first cell: Jenna Thorne – Itemized Debt Ledger. Below it were 237 densely packed lines, dating from a $5 coffee I bought five years ago during our first year of marriage, all the way up to the $180 puffer coat he got me last winter. Every single penny. The final row, highlighted in red: TOTAL DUE: $180,000.00. My hand shook, rattling the phone against the table. My colleagues kept debating the implementation timeline, their words a muffled, distant sound. I couldn’t hear a thing. I closed the spreadsheet. Another message popped up in the chat. Adam: Repayment expected within 30 days. I stared at the sentence, and a sudden, hysterical laugh caught in my throat. Five years. In his eyes, I was just a debtor. 1. The meeting ended. I shut my laptop, the screen going black. My phone vibrated again, this time a direct call from my mother, Laura. “Jenna, what on earth is that spreadsheet Adam sent to the group?” I took a deep, steadying breath, then called her back. “Mom, it’s nothing. I’m handling it.” “What is wrong with that boy? Five years of marriage, and he’s calculating every cent?” My mother’s voice was tight with shock. “Don’t worry about it. I know what to do.” A text came in from my best friend, Samara (Sam). Sam: I saw the group message. Are you okay? Me: I’m fine. Sam: He’s lost his mind, right? Posting a ledger like that? Me: He probably thought it was perfectly reasonable. Samara sent a string of furious, all-caps emojis. I didn’t reply. I gathered my things and headed out. In the elevator, I ran into Mike, one of the HR directors. “Jenna, you look pale. Is the Q3 launch stressing you out?” “I’m fine, Mike. Thanks for the concern.” The doors opened and I stepped onto the street. The New York rush hour subway was predictably jammed. I stood pressed into a corner, completely isolated in the crush of people, and opened the ledger again. I scrolled down. 11/08/2019: Wedding Favors (My side of the guests) – $800.00 12/24/2019: Christmas Eve Coffee (Grande Latte) – $6.50 03/14/2020: Valentine’s Day Chocolates – $55.00 06/01/2020: Plush Toy (Gag Gift) – $22.00 Every item was there. It included the prenatal vitamins, the specialty tea, the maternity clothes, even the organic strawberries he’d bought me during my ten months of pregnancy. All accounted for. I lowered the phone and closed my eyes. The train announced the next stop: “”Grand Central. Transfer to the 4, 5, 6…”” I stayed put. I rode to the end of the line, then rode the train back. It was nine p.m. when I finally got home. Adam was on the couch, scrolling through his phone. “You’re home?” “Mhm.” I walked over and stood directly in front of him. “I saw the ledger you sent.” He set his phone down and turned his head up to me. “Good. I was meticulous. I didn’t overcharge you by a single dime.” “One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.” “Yes. That’s the amount I’ve spent on you over the last five years.” He said it so matter-of-factly. “You clear about $25,000 a month. You can pay it off in six or seven months.” I just stared at him. This man. My husband of five years. “You think this is reasonable?” “Of course, it is. We agreed to keep our finances separate, didn’t we? It’s our version of bill splitting.” “I don’t recall agreeing to this version of bill splitting.” “Well, you should have paid attention.” Adam stood up. “Jenna, we’re adults. Keeping a clear account ensures neither of us is taken advantage of. It’s fair.” “Fair?” “Yes. Modern couples should be practical.” I finally laughed—a short, sharp bark. “Did you know my mother called me, her voice shaking, today?” “Your mother is just old-fashioned.” “You posted that in the family group chat, Adam. Both our parents saw it.” “Perfect. Saves me having to explain it later.” I turned toward the bedroom. “Jenna, when are you going to pay?” I stopped at the doorway, not turning back. “I’ll think about it.” I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned my back against it. My son, Toby, was asleep, his face rosy and peaceful. He was three years old, unaware that his father was calculating his mother’s value in the living room. I walked to his bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin. I opened my phone and looked at the spreadsheet one more time. 237 line items. Five years. An average of four transactions logged every single month. Me: Do you think this marriage is salvageable? Samara replied instantly: Are you thinking about divorce? Me: I don’t know. Samara: If you are, I’ve got your back. I turned off my phone and lay down on my side of the bed. There was a faint crack running across the ceiling. I stared at it for a long time. Five years. I thought we were partners. He thought I was a line item on his balance sheet. 2. Saturday morning, I took Toby to my parents’ house. “Jenna, that debt statement…” My mother looked at me, struggling to find the words. “Mom, I’ve got it under control.” “Adam wasn’t always like this,” she sighed. My father, Frank, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “What’s your next move?” “I haven’t decided yet.” “Then don’t rush.” Dad’s eyes met mine. “But you need to understand, this isn’t about the money.” I nodded. I went home in the afternoon. Adam wasn’t there. I booted up his work computer. The password was his birthday—he’d never changed it. There was a folder on the desktop titled: Household Financials – MASTER. I clicked it open. Inside were over a dozen spreadsheets. The first was the “”Jenna Thorne Debt Ledger”” he’d sent to the chat. The second: Family Expenses Log (Adam’s Share). I opened it. Row 1: 11/2019 – 11/2024: Mortgage Payments Totaled $480,000. My contribution: $240,000. Row 2: General Living Expenses: My monthly average contribution $3,000. Five-year total: $180,000. Row 3: Child Expenses: My monthly average contribution $2,000. Three-year total: $72,000. … I scrolled down. Every contribution was itemized and logged. Then I clicked on the third file: Family Expenses Log (Jenna’s Share). Row 1: General Living Expenses: Jenna’s monthly average contribution $5,000. Five-year total: $300,000. Row 2: Child Expenses: Jenna’s monthly average contribution $7,000. Three-year total: $252,000. … I did the quick math. By his own accounting, I had contributed over $800,000 to the shared family fund over five years. He had contributed just over $500,000. Yet his public ledger only accounted for the $180,000 he’d spent directly on me. I kept digging. There was another folder, simply titled Personal Assets. I opened it. A screenshot of a bank account. Balance: $285,000. In the transaction history, several large deposits stood out. 01/2020: Christmas Bonus from Mom – $50,000. 01/2021: Birthday Gift from Mom – $50,000. 05/2023: Medical Expense Reimbursement (Mom) – $50,000. I froze at that last one: Medical Expense Reimbursement (Mom). I remembered May of last year. Adam’s mother, Ruth, had a serious health scare. Adam had asked me for $50,000. He’d said, “It’s my mother. You’re my wife. It’s only right that we split the major costs.” I transferred the $50,000 without a second thought. Her hospital stay cost $130,000 in total. Adam had told me he’d covered the remaining $80,000. Now I knew the truth. He’d only covered $30,000. His mother had reimbursed him $50,000 after being released. My $50,000, however, was gone. I closed the laptop. I walked to the balcony. Outside, a light, cold rain was falling. It was a bleak New York autumn. I suddenly recalled the $180 puffer coat from his ledger. He’d insisted on paying for it that day, saying, “Let me take care of this one.” I had felt touched by the gesture. Now I knew the cost was in his ledger. Meanwhile, his own $1,200 Patagonia jacket wasn’t in any of the shared family expense logs. I smiled—a cold, empty expression. So that was it. Adam returned late that evening. “Where were you?” I asked, meeting him at the door. “Dinner with a client.” “Oh.” He settled on the couch and picked up his phone. I walked over and sat down on the chair opposite him. “Adam, a question.” “Yeah?” “Does the money your mother gives you count as family income?” He looked up, wary now. “It’s a gift from my mother. It has nothing to do with you.” “But the $50,000 I gave you for your mother’s medical bill—that counted as a family expense?” “Of course, it did. You’re my wife.” I nodded slowly. “And everything you bought me during my ten months of pregnancy—the prenatal care, the clothes—that all counts as my debt to you?” “They were purchases for you. Yes, they count.” “But I was pregnant. I was creating your son.” “That was your choice,” Adam said, his voice hardening. “Jenna, why are you bringing all this up?” “I just wanted to clarify the accounting rules.” “There’s nothing unclear about it. I keep a ledger to keep things clear.” I looked at him, feeling a terrifying wave of unfamiliarity wash over me. “Adam, a marriage isn’t a limited partnership.” He frowned. “What are you talking about?” “I’m talking about the fact that I don’t owe you anything.” “So you’re refusing to pay?” “Yes. I’m not paying.” Adam stood up and crossed the space between us. “Jenna, don’t be unreasonable.” “I’m unreasonable?” “Yes! The ledger is clear. You can’t just refuse to pay what you owe!” “And why don’t you account for what I’ve contributed to this home?” “Your contributions? You benefited from them just as much as I did!” I took a sharp breath. “I understand now.” “Good. One month. $180,000. Don’t miss the deadline.” I stood up and walked into the bedroom. “Jenna!” I didn’t answer. I closed the door and messaged Samara. Me: Can you recommend a lawyer? Samara: What kind? Me: Divorce. Samara sent a shocked emoji, then a single word: Tomorrow. Me: Thank you. I turned off my phone and lay back. Toby slept peacefully beside me. I stroked his hair. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Your mom has to make a hard choice. But I can’t let you grow up thinking this is what love looks like. 3. Sunday afternoon, I met with the lawyer. Ms. Klein was a sharp, meticulous woman in her forties who looked like she’d won every case she’d ever taken. “Ms. Thorne, let’s go over the specifics.” I explained the ledger, the group chat, and the context of the $180,000. Ms. Klein listened, silently, for a few moments. “This situation is… unique,” she said. “I want a divorce.” “We can do that, but you need to consider three things,” Ms. Klein continued. “First, custody of your son. Second, asset division. Third, if he sues you for the $180,000, legally speaking…” “If he sues,” I cut her off, “I will countersue and submit my own itemized ledger for the last five years.” Ms. Klein paused, then a slight smile touched her lips. “Ms. Thorne, you are remarkably composed.” “I’m just done being naive.” “So, what’s your strategy?” “I’m creating my own ledger.” Ms. Klein nodded, pulling out a legal pad. “Excellent. But we need to structure it smartly. Marital common expenditures are shared. The key is to prove that your non-monetary contributions vastly outweigh his, and that his accounting system was designed to benefit himself.” “I have the proof.” “What proof?” I took out my phone and opened the photo album. “These are my bank statements for the last five years. I’ve already organized them.” Ms. Klein took the phone, scrolling briefly. “Very good. These will be useful.” “I also have photos of his hidden accounting files on his work computer.” Ms. Klein looked at me, her surprise evident. “Ms. Thorne, what is your profession?” “I’m a Product Manager.” “That explains it.” I offered a small smile. “So, what do I do next?” “First, finalize your counter-ledger,” Ms. Klein advised. “Second, gather all evidence: texts, transfer records, everything. Finally, we propose a mediated settlement. If he refuses, we file a complaint.” “Understood.” “And regarding custody: do you want primary custody?” “Absolutely.” “Then we must establish your competence and show that the child’s best interests are served by living with you.” “That won’t be an issue.” Ms. Klein covered a few more technical details, which I duly noted. I arrived home around seven p.m. Adam was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. “You’re back? Where were you?” “Met a friend.” “Right.” He served the food and called me to the table. I sat, but had no appetite. “So, about the $180,000. Have you thought about it?” I looked up at him. “I have. If you want to keep score, we’ll settle the books.” Adam paused, fork halfway to his mouth, then grinned. “You want to challenge my math?” “Yes.” “Go ahead. I’m an open book.” He wore a condescending expression, convinced I couldn’t possibly come up with anything substantial. I didn’t argue. I just ate quietly. For the next three days, I sat in front of my computer every night after putting Toby to bed. Five years of bank statements. Screenshots of every large transfer. And my own ledger. I used the same Excel template Adam had. The first cell: Adam Thorne – Itemized Compensation Due to Jenna Thorne Ledger. I began listing the items. Row 1: Opportunity Cost of 10-Month Pregnancy & Recovery. I consulted online resources, calculating the loss of potential promotion and salary increase for a high-earning woman. I settled on a conservative estimate: $300,000. Row 2: Physical & Emotional Toll of Childbirth. Quantifying the actual cost of physical damage and recovery time: $100,000. Row 3: Value of Uncompensated Childcare & Domestic Labor. I calculated the hours spent after my full-time job and on weekends doing primary childcare and household management. I calculated 3 hours per day, at a moderate rate of $50/hour, over five years. 3 hours x 365 days x 5 years x $50/hour = $273,750. I rounded it to a conservative: $250,000. Row 4: My Parents’ Down Payment Contribution (never returned or acknowledged). $30,000. Row 5: My $50,000 Contribution to Mother-in-Law’s Medical Bill (unreimbursed). $50,000. Row 6: Disparity in Monthly Shared Expenses (My overpayment of $2,000/month). $120,000. … I compiled twenty entries. The final row, highlighted in fluorescent green: TOTAL COMPENSATION DUE: $850,000.00. $850,000. I stared at the number and let out a genuine, albeit cynical, laugh. I had “earned” an $670,000 profit in this marriage. I saved the file and closed the laptop. It was 1 a.m. Adam was asleep in the bedroom. I didn’t go in. I lay on the living room sofa for the rest of the night. 4. Thursday evening, Adam asked again: “$180,000. What’s the plan?” “This weekend. I’ll give you my answer then.” “Fine. I’ll wait.” Saturday morning, I met Samara at our usual coffee shop. “Is the ledger ready?” “Yes.” I AirDropped the Excel file to her phone. Samara opened it, read for a moment, and burst out laughing. “Jenna, you are savage.” “I just used his own logic against him.” “The ‘Opportunity Cost of 10-Month Pregnancy.’ That’s genius.” “And it’s a conservative estimate, too.” “It’s brutal enough.” Samara put down her phone. “When are you going to send this to him?” “Tonight. In the family chat.” Samara’s jaw dropped, then she gave me a slow, emphatic thumbs-up. “You’re an icon.” “If he can humiliate me in the family chat, I can certainly return the favor.” “That’s the spirit.” That afternoon, I went to my parents’ house. Dad saw my face and asked, “What’s wrong, kiddo?” “Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something.” “What is it?” “I’m filing for divorce.” Mom gasped. Dad didn’t speak for a long moment. Finally, he asked, “Are you sure?””

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390246”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was stressed about my AI hackathon entry. My husband Toby, usually just beside me, set down his book, removed his gold-rimmed glasses, and took my laptop—something he’d never shown interest in before. He rolled up his sleeves, and in the glow of the screen, his fingers flew across the keyboard. In under a minute, he solved a problem that had stumped me for a month. “Did you learn that recently?” I asked, my heart swelling, thinking he’d done it for me. He only smiled. A man focused on his work is irresistible. I snapped a photo of his handsome profile and posted it online. My usually quiet account blew up overnight. Comments flooded in: “It’s 2026 and I’m seeing those hands code again! The ultimate intellectual crush!” “‘Learned that recently?’ LOL, OP, you really don’t know your husband, do you?” “MY SHIP IS BACK FROM THE DEAD! I watched Isabelle teach Toby to code a hundred times. They were perfect.” “Wait… is OP Toby’s wife? My Toby-and-Isabelle ship is officially ancient history…” 1 The comments kept pouring in. “Props to you, though. Back in the day, Toby stayed up for nights on end optimizing the parameters for Isabelle’s AI competition. He collapsed in the lab from exhaustion right after it was over. That kind of devotion still hits hard!” “You think that’s something? What about the fact that after Isabelle left, Toby never touched a competitive AI project again? Is that not the ultimate tragic romance?” … Everyone was lamenting their unfinished love story. Over three thousand comments, all piecing together an Toby I had never known. This wasn’t the calm, dependable man I had fallen in love with, the man so steady that I was the one who had to propose marriage. This was a raw, impulsive young man who, when rumors spread that he was backing out of Isabelle’s project, ran through a torrential downpour to her apartment just to explain. The night before Isabelle left the country was Christmas Eve. That same day, Toby officially quit the AI lab, vowing never to work on core algorithms again. He locked himself in a server room all night and emerged with a hauntingly beautiful piece of AI-generated music—a melody whose title was a coded way of saying “I love you.” She was his muse, his inspiration. I scrolled through their entire story, comment by comment. The bright white screen stung my eyes until they started to water. The melody Toby had just generated for me… it was the same one. Was it because Christmas was approaching? Was he thinking of her again? “Hey, don’t cry over a bit of code.” Toby chuckled, his thumb, slightly calloused, brushing away a tear from the corner of my eye. I flinched away from his touch, forcing a weak smile. I tried to keep my voice even. “Have you competed in AI events before? You have a really deep understanding of these models.” “The lead algorithm engineer on my team is out sick. Honey, could you step in and help me out?” Everyone has a past. But his kindness to me over the years was real. More importantly, I had just found out I was pregnant. The family of three we had always dreamed of was finally within reach. If he agreed to help me, it would prove he had moved on. And if he had, I could pretend I never saw any of this. But Toby just froze. A long moment passed before he finally said, “I’ve never competed officially.” His words made my desperate hope feel pathetic. Official records of him and Isabelle winning AI competitions together were still online. Toby was the most meticulous, careful person I knew. And yet, he was telling me a lie so clumsy, so easily disproven. I lowered my gaze, my voice barely a whisper. “Really?” “Then what are all these comments about?” 2 With the last shred of denial torn away, I lost control, screaming at him, demanding to know why. Toby was silent for a long time. “There’s no why,” he said finally, his voice flat. “I was in love with her. I still think about her sometimes. It’s that simple.” He watched my frantic outburst with a calm detachment. “Olivia, we’re married now. You don’t need to obsess over my past.” The irony was suffocating. “What if she came back now?” I challenged him. “What if she asked you to join her new AI lab? Would you go?” He didn’t answer. He just reached for me, trying to pull me into an embrace. I slapped his hand away, my eyes locked on his, demanding an answer. Toby sighed. “Alright, stop overthinking this. Go to bed.” His composure made me feel like an irrational, shrewish wife. Tears welled in my eyes, but I wouldn’t let them fall. I pushed again, my voice trembling. “Would you go, or not?” The comment section had mentioned that Isabelle had just returned to the country to start her own AI lab and was looking for a head of algorithms. Her fans were ecstatic, convinced this was the epic reunion they’d been waiting for, completely disregarding me, his legal wife. Toby’s lips pressed into a thin line. After a long silence, he said, “No, I wouldn’t go. Happy now?” Before the words had even fully settled in the air, his phone rang. The caller ID displayed a single, glaring name: Isabelle. Without a second thought, Toby grabbed his phone and started to walk away. I lunged forward, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. A tear finally escaped, hitting the cloth and spreading into a small, dark stain. “Answer it here!” We stood locked in a standoff. The ringing weakened, and perhaps fearing he would miss the call, Toby actually answered it right in front of me. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Isabelle.” Just one word, spoken with a depth of feeling that twisted my insides. A soft, gentle voice replied from the other end. “It’s me.” I felt Toby’s entire body go rigid. He was so stunned he forgot to pull his shirt from my grasp. Isabelle’s voice carried a hint of melancholy. “I’m so sorry to bother you this late. But… I didn’t know who else to call. The head of algorithms at my lab is causing a scene. He’s refusing to even show up for the final presentation, let alone come back to the States with me. But the project launch date here is fixed, and we can’t postpone it.” “I know this is a huge ask,” she continued, her voice soft and pleading, “but could you… could you come and save me? Just this once? Please, my algorithm genius.” 3 “But what about your international AI competition finals?” The question flew out of Toby’s mouth before he could stop it. Both Isabelle and I were stunned into silence. I never knew he could be so impulsive, especially when it came to her. My voice rose, sharp with disbelief. “You’re going to fly overseas to help her compete? Toby, tomorrow is Christmas Eve! Both our families are coming over for dinner!” I was going to announce my pregnancy then. For years, both our parents had been dropping hints. My mother-in-law would always sigh wistfully whenever she talked about her friends becoming grandparents. And Toby… Toby had always wanted a child. During our most intimate moments, he would whisper against my ear, his voice thick with tenderness, “Let’s have a baby, one just as sweet as you. What do you say?” On the phone, Isabelle’s voice suddenly cracked. “Toby… is that your… friend?” I cut in before he could answer. “We’re married.” There was a choked sound from the other end. Toby shot me a furious look, but still tried to reason with me. “It’s just technical support, Olivia.” Yes, just technical support. Then why was it “I’ve never competed” when I asked, but the moment she called, he was ready to drop everything and fly across the world for her? The silence crackled with tension. Isabelle was the first to speak. “You know what? Never mind.” “Wait,” Toby said hurriedly. He covered the receiver with his hand, pried my fingers from his shirt, and hissed, his voice dangerously low, “Can you please stop making a scene?” “She’s a girl, alone in a foreign country. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get to this point? What’s wrong with me helping her out as a friend?” I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. But it’s been hard for me to get here, too… This year was supposed to be my best chance at a promotion to team lead. But my performance had been unstable since I got pregnant. Our partners were worried about project delays and were even considering moving me off the core team. My friend had to fight to get me a spot in the post-holiday open-day presentation, but the algorithm engineer on my team said my code gave him anxiety and flat-out refused to partner with me. I’m not a genius. I’m the kind of person who has to code until my wrists ache just to keep up. Now, because of this pregnancy, I might lose everything I’ve worked for. But even so, I had never once regretted carrying his child. There was so much I wanted to say, so much pain I wanted to voice, but the moment I opened my mouth, the tears started to fall. Toby was already packing a bag, moving with a frantic urgency. He saw me crying and paused. I thought he would come hold me, like he always did. Or at the very least, offer a word of comfort. But all he said was a detached, “Drink some hot water when you’re done crying. I’m leaving.” My nails dug into my palms. My voice came out as a ragged whisper. “Are you really going? And you won’t regret this?” Toby stared at me for a long, hard moment, then lowered his eyes. “Get some sleep.” The front door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the vast, silent house. My hand rested gently on my stomach. I cried for a long, long time. Then, I picked up my phone and dialed a number. “Hello, I’d like to inquire about a painless abortion.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390263”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In the seventh year after being brought back home, I had already followed my parents’ demands, married a man I didn’t like, and raised a three-year-old daughter. The fake heiress, one year older than me, still acted spoiled in my family’s arms because she was “still young.” The dispute between the real and fake heiress had long become a thing of the past. My home should have returned to peace. So, when I was about to be beaten to death by my husband, I called my family. “I’m dying. Can you come and pick Lily up, just like you picked me up back then?” 1 I knew I was finally dying, so I didn’t call 911, but called my family instead. Mom answered the phone. She was getting her nails done, her tone a bit impatient: “What is it?” I covered my constantly bleeding neck and said I was about to die, could they come and pick Lily up? Lily is only three years old, sleeping upstairs, completely unaware of the mess downstairs. My blood wouldn’t stop, broken pieces of a red wine bottle were beside me, and my husband, after committing the violence, fell on the sofa and slept soundly. “Ava, are you done yet? Putting on such a show every now and then!” My brother Ethan snatched the phone and cursed at me, “You’ve been married for four years. Every time you contact us, it’s either about divorce or saying you’re about to be beaten to death. Are you really that miserable!” I fell silent. Don’t know if I was numb from pain or lost too much blood, I felt a bit tired. Recalling the past, I’ve actually been tired for many years. Kidnapped at five, working like a slave in the mountains, never seeing the sun, tired until my back couldn’t straighten. Finally returned home at fifteen, facing the favored fake heiress, I lived carefully in the cracks, tired from secretly sobbing countless nights. Forced to marry at eighteen, married to a rich second-generation scumbag who liked domestic violence. To avoid being beaten, I could only be a humble and virtuous wife, working hard without complaint to coax him happy. Tired until every inch of my skin twitched. At twenty, I had severe depression, relying entirely on my daughter Lily’s smile to survive, staring into the abyss at the edge of the cliff every day, wanting to jump, but not daring to. Tired until my ears rang and eyes dazzled, heart stinging. Finally, at twenty-two, my carotid artery was cut by a piece of red wine bottle. Suddenly not tired anymore, because I can finally die. I answered Ethan: “This is not acting this time, I’m really dying. Can you come over immediately? I’m afraid of scaring Lily.” Actually, over so many years, I didn’t “act” many times. I only mentioned divorce to my family three times. They got annoyed, so I dared not mention it again. I also only mentioned being injured to my family four times. They didn’t believe it, so I stopped mentioning it. From being brought back home until now, a total of seven years, seven calls for help. Can’t be considered many, right? “Then go die. Once you’re dead, we’ll pick Lily up!” 2 Ethan hung up the phone. I knew he wouldn’t come to pick Lily up. Seven years, the eighth call for help, still failed. I smiled bleakly, leaning weakly against the wall, feeling half of my body was hot. Blood was rising with heat. Looked upstairs, quiet, Lily hadn’t woken up yet. Or maybe she woke up, but dared not come down. She must be shrinking under the quilt shivering. Thinking of this, my heart twisted in pain. Tried to get up, but my strength was exhausted. What to do? My daughter is so young, shivering under the quilt, but I can’t help her at all. After I die, if no one comes to pick her up, she will face that devil alone. How will she live? The phone suddenly vibrated, a message came. I gasped, trying hard to see the message clearly. It was from the fake heiress Bella. [Ava, today is my twenty-third birthday party. Family is accompanying me, so no one wants to pay attention to you.] [Actually, I don’t understand. You’ve already lost so thoroughly, why still refuse to give up?] I moved my lips, the smell of blood spreading. I didn’t refuse to give up, I just couldn’t let go of Lily. Don’t know where I got a bit of strength, I tried my best to send a voice message to Bella. Asking for help from this person I hated the most. “Bella… sorry, I was wrong… I shouldn’t have been hostile to you… shouldn’t have competed for favor with you… I kowtow to you, begging you to pick up my daughter…” Intermittently, I kept bleeding, and also weeping. The dignity of many years collapsed completely at this moment, crushed into the mud by myself. I never bowed to Bella. Because I always believed that I was the real daughter of the Gaines family, and she was just a counterfeit occupying the magpie’s nest. But now, I bowed. I admitted defeat. “What?” Bella was obviously stunned, then laughed loudly: “No way? You… too funny, you kowtow to me? Real or fake? Then kowtow quickly!” 3 Yes, kowtow to Bella. I held the voice message button, leaned my body down, and hit my head hard on the floor. Bang, bang, bang! The sound of kowtowing was sent, and I almost fainted, lying on the floor like a dog, panting heavily. Bella laughed loudly again: “No, you really kowtowed? Haha, honestly, it feels quite good. Seven years, I finally waited for you to admit defeat!” Yes, I admitted defeat. “Pick up Ava… home…” I shivered and sent the last voice message. Bella’s face changed instantly: “Ava, are you kidding me? Wasn’t it picking up your daughter? How did it become picking you up again? Subconsciously you still want to come back, right!” I was stunned, my brain muddy. Did I say pick up Ava home? No, I should say pick up Lily home! I don’t have to go home, but Lily must go home! But I had no strength to say a word anymore. “Ava, speak! Dared not make a sound after I exposed your thoughts?” Bella questioned me sternly. Her voice message also contained my dad’s majestic voice. “Ava, stop making trouble. I will visit the Reed family in half a month, I’ll see you then!” Half a month later, family finally coming to visit me? But I can’t wait, because I’m dying. Lily, sorry, Mom ultimately failed to let you escape this devil’s den. Hope there are ghosts in this world, so Mom can look at you a few more times. 4 Opening my eyes again, I was floating above my corpse. There really are ghosts in the world! It was already dawn, but the villa was quiet inside and out. My husband Lucas Reed had dismissed all the nannies long ago, forcing me to be the nanny, also making it convenient to abuse me unscrupulously. So, even during the day, no one would come to the villa. I found Lucas was about to wake up; his snoring stopped. I ignored him, hurried to float upstairs, and drilled into the bedroom. Lily was indeed shrinking under the quilt, eyes tightly closed, tears wetting the pillow. There was also a wet mark in the quilt; she wet the bed, but dared not move, just fell asleep like this. I was extremely heartbroken, bent down to touch her face, but my hand passed through. Lucas’s exclamation sounded downstairs. He probably discovered my body. Sure enough, he soon started dismembering the body. Even though I was already a ghost, I still felt chills all over my body. The evil of human nature was fully revealed in Lucas. But unfortunately, he was the ideal son-in-law my family fancied. Actually, initially, my parents wanted to marry Bella to Lucas. The two families had verbally agreed on the marriage alliance. The Reed Group behind Lucas is a leading enterprise in the city, and Lucas himself is handsome and promising. Bella also liked him very much and even dated him. But later scandals about Lucas came out. He abused a girl to death in a bar, causing extremely bad influence. Parents and brother got worried, afraid Lucas was a beast in human skin with a perverted personality, so they decided not to let Bella get too close to Lucas. But they couldn’t break ties with the Reed family, so they let me marry over instead of Bella. [Ava is our biological daughter, she is a better match for Young Master Reed.] [Our Ava is virtuous and gentle, unlike Bella, running around all day, not ladylike at all!] [Bella refuses to have children, she herself is a child who won’t grow up, better not marry her out first, to avoid embarrassing us!] At that time, my parents said so. Every word was disliking Bella, finally making the Reed family nod and marry me. Thinking about it now, that dislike in every word was clearly full of love. I smiled self-deprecatingly and floated into the bathroom to watch Lucas dismember the body. 5 Lucas looked pale, cursing while chopping bones. He seemed to insult me to comfort himself. Called me a slut, said I was used by hundreds of men, completely unworthy of him. I deserved to die! I didn’t understand, how was I a slut? Lucas’s self-talk gave the answer: “Don’t blame me, you slut. Bella told me long ago, don’t know how many customers you took in the village, even had abortions and gave birth, what face do you have to marry me? “I abused you because you deserved it, you died because you asked for it!” I realized then, it turned out Bella was behind this. No wonder when I first married Lucas, he was friendly and treated me with respect. But later his temperament changed suddenly, abusing me unscrupulously, eventually causing my death. Bella, you are so cruel. Clearly I had lost so thoroughly, you still wouldn’t let me go. When the sun set in the west, Lucas finally finished. He bagged my body piece by piece, filling two large refrigerators. Then cleaned up the living room to look brand new, leaving no trace. Don’t know when Lily got out of bed, she squatted by the second-floor handrail, looking downstairs timidly. Lucas looked up and glanced at her, tone gloomy like an evil ghost: “Lily, what did you see?” Lily dared not make a sound. “I told you to speak!” Lucas shouted violently, scaring Lily into shaking her head quickly: “No… don’t know…” I was both heartbroken and angry, wishing I could bite Lucas to death. But couldn’t touch him at all. Lucas snorted coldly, grabbed a few bags of bread from the snack cabinet and threw them upstairs. “You are not allowed downstairs. Dare to come down, I’ll break your legs!” Lily nodded in horror and scurried into the bedroom. Lucas didn’t stay any longer, carrying a bag of meat pieces, hurrying out while it was dark. Lily then carefully slipped out, looked around on the stairs for a long time, then trembled and moved downstairs. My heart lifted, what was Lily going to do? Saw her walk to the refrigerator, forcefully prying open the lower refrigerator door. My head was hidden in a pile of frozen meat. “Mommy…” Lily called out. My tears came down. She saw everything. 6 The following days were days for Lucas to dump the body. He took part of the body pieces out every day. But sometimes brought them back home to freeze again. The bustling big city wasn’t easy for dumping bodies. At least my head stayed frozen in the refrigerator. Lily was very obedient, only sneaking down to see me after Lucas went out, then running back to the bedroom crying. Her eating, drinking, and bathroom needs were all on the second floor, food only snacks and bread. Such days were desperate and suffocating even for adults. I was unspeakably heartbroken, finally floating out of the villa, hoping to find a way. Unknowingly, floated to my parents’ home. That villa familiar yet strange to me, emitting warm light. I floated in like a ghost, seeing Bella throwing a tantrum on the sofa. “Agreed to go traveling tomorrow, I’ve done all the planning!” Bella is obviously one year older than me, but always acts like a child at home. My dad smiled dotingly: “Dad got confused, have to go to Reed Group to sign a new round of contracts tomorrow, stop by to see your sister by the way. Dad will take you traveling the day after tomorrow.” “Yes Bella, contract matters can’t be delayed, don’t throw a temper.” Mom shook her head, but her mouth was full of smiles. Brother Ethan flipping through documents looked up: “I’ll go sign the contract, you guys accompany Bella traveling, that’s important.” “Yes yes yes, I want to travel!” Bella kicked her legs throwing a tantrum, very willful. Honestly, I envied her. Kidnapped for ten years, when have I ever acted spoiled like this? After coming home, where did I dare to act spoiled like this? Only in vague memories, when I was five, could I act spoiled unscrupulously. “This…” Dad hesitated, “Have to go see Ava, haven’t visited her for many years after all.” Hearing this, Bella’s face turned black, arms crossed humming: “Fine, go then, after all she is your biological daughter.” Dad was anxious instantly, coaxing like a child: “I didn’t mean that. I just think not visiting for too long, the Reed family will think we don’t care, looking down on them.” Mom chimed in: “Yes, marriage alliance between two families, should pay attention. “How about this, tomorrow I accompany you traveling, your dad goes to sign the contract.” Bella was satisfied then, eating dessert smilingly. The family was happy and harmonious again. I floated silently in mid-air, motionless for a long time. Mom suddenly glanced at me, naturally seeing nothing. But she rubbed her chest, muttering: “Don’t know what happened, suddenly palpitations.” “Mom, are you okay?” Ethan asked. Dad and Bella also looked at Mom. Mom waved her hand: “Fine, can’t say what’s wrong, seems a bit uneasy, maybe getting old.” The family laughed. Bella quickly praised Mom for still being young and beautiful, causing Mom to laugh. Just she kept rubbing her chest.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390279”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was a supporting female character with a terminal illness. Before I died, I asked the tyrannical CEO, “When is the heroine’s next ovulation date?” The CEO cursed angrily: “What? Do you still want to harm her?” I shook my head and explained: “No, I just want to be reincarnated as your daughter in my next life and torture you to death!” 1 On the day I died, Ethan Cole, the male lead I had been obsessing over for 10 years without success, stood at my bedside holding a bouquet of blooming red roses. “Do you like them?” I nodded. Ethan waved the flowers in front of me, then threw them into the trash can, adding meanly: “I’d rather throw them away than give them to you.” The corner of my mouth twitched, feeling a bit speechless inside, but I decided to ignore him and directly said my last line: “In this life, I have ultimately… paid the wrong price!!” After performing heart-wrenchingly, I closed my eyes peacefully. Unexpectedly. What I waited for was not the notification sound of leaving this dimension. Instead, I got a needle in my butt. “Ah—” I opened my eyes in pain, meeting Ethan’s face full of disdain and contempt. He crossed his arms lazily and instructed the doctor: “Don’t let her die. Inject as much adrenaline as you can. Also, unplug the oxygen mask; it’s a waste of money. For such a vicious woman who has done so much evil, she shouldn’t die easily. Torture her severely, make her beg for life but unable to live, beg for death but unable to die!” “?” The doctor glanced at me sympathetically and raised the syringe again, aiming for my butt. “Hold the needle!” I stopped him. And spat at Ethan: “You will be punished for treating a dying person like this!” “Luna Miller, you really are a dead pig not afraid of boiling water. Still stubborn when death is imminent.” Ethan lit a cigarette and shamelessly blew the smoke into my face, making me cough from the second-hand smoke. “Cough cough—” Seeing that I couldn’t even speak properly, a wave of grievance filled my heart. Very good! Ethan, you forced me! I quickly grabbed Ethan’s clothes and asked ferociously: “Tell me, how many days until Stella’s follicles mature, gradually migrate to the surface of the ovary and protrude outward, finally thinning the cells near the surface of the ovary, and finally rupturing causing most of the follicular fluid to flow out?” Ethan didn’t understand. He frowned, confused: “What?” My teeth itched with anger, hating this uncultured bumpkin CEO. No choice. I could only ask bluntly: “What date is Stella’s next ovulation period?” Ethan raged: “What? Do you still want to harm her?” I sneered: “You don’t truly love her. You can’t even remember this clearly. What kind of good man can’t remember a woman’s physiological period!” “Bullshit, who said I don’t remember!” Ethan took out his phone. It’s hard to imagine he actually downloaded a period tracking app on his phone. It accurately prompts the user’s ovulation period, physiological period, and fertile period. Ethan muttered unconsciously while looking: “So it’s the 19th of this month…” Realizing he slipped up, he started venting on me again. “You poisonous woman, did you think of some shady trick to provoke me and Stella again? I tell you, no way!” I shook my head and explained: “No, I just want to be reincarnated as your daughter in my next life and torture you to death!” “Alright, off to reincarnation.” After speaking, I happily kicked the bucket. The main point was not to dawdle. Not to add trouble to the medical staff. In the last second before my consciousness disappeared, I still heard Ethan roar in panic: “No—don’t let her die! Shock her! Shock her back to life!” 2 After death, I floated in the air, watching Ethan work overtime until 2 AM every night before going home. The reason was, Stella wanted to carry out a baby-making plan with him. Ethan watched the calendar approach the 19th day by day, stubble growing on his chin. Finally. On the night of the 19th, Stella sneaked into the office to catch her Ethan and forced herself on him. For the scenes not suitable for children, I chose to see no evil, hear no evil. Finally. 10 minutes later, I waited for that last moment. Ethan looked up and shouted: “No—” And I, quickly turning into a white light, ran towards them: “Charge—” 3 When I was conscious again. I was already a tiny life. Although I couldn’t see or move, I could hear the outside sounds: “Hubby, good news, I’m pregnant!” This delicate lolita voice was 100% the heroine of this dimension, Stella. But next came Ethan’s fearful and trembling voice: “No, we can’t keep this child.” “Why?” Stella’s voice immediately turned cold. Ethan thought for a moment, lowering his voice as if afraid I would hear: “I consulted a master. A child conceived on the 19th is a cursed star, the reincarnation of an evil landlord. If born, it can only be a devil child. Can’t keep it, can’t keep it.” “Be good, let’s wait a few years!” Stella sneered: “What excuses are you making?” “I think you are mourning. Your childhood sweetheart sister Luna died, you are heartbroken and want to mourn for her for three years, can’t have happy events, right?” Ethan quickly defended himself: “Babe, what nonsense are you talking about? I never liked her. I’m too happy she died.” “Okay okay okay, we’ll keep it, we’ll keep it.” At 2 AM. I heard Ethan, who hadn’t slept yet, seemingly kowtowing to Stella’s belly: “Please, as long as it’s not Luna, even if you are Red Boy or the Bull Demon King, it’s fine.” “If really not possible, even if it’s a lazy sheep, I can accept it.” Then he started talking to himself, doing psychological counseling for himself: “No, it won’t be that coincidental that she can succeed in reincarnation here. Coincidence, everything is a coincidence.” “Amitabha, Buddha bless…” … A few months later. Ethan took Stella for a checkup. Stella said she wanted a daughter. The examining doctor smiled gently and said: “Then maybe your dream will come true.” The atmosphere was originally lively. If Ethan hadn’t screamed. “She!! She gave me a peace sign!” Stella and the doctor cast him a look reserved for idiots. Ethan, a dignified 6’2″ man, was shaking in front of the ultrasound machine. “That… the child my wife is carrying… just now, in that image, gave me a peace sign…” He tried to explain to everyone. But who would believe such absurd words. The doctor smoothed things over with a smile: “Oh, look, your husband is just too excited. Although a six-month-old child has hands and feet, they can’t make a peace sign.” Inside Stella’s belly, I almost laughed myself out of breath. Yes, I just made a peace sign. Just to scare this son of a b*tch to death. The night after the checkup. I heard Ethan brainwashing himself again: “No, no… even if it’s a daughter, it’s not necessarily her. Ethan, don’t scare yourself. Relax, God definitely won’t make things difficult for you.” 4 The day I was born was probably Ethan’s most desperate day. I heard the nurse ask Stella several times: “Mother, where is your husband?” Stella said: “He probably has a phobia of not being ready to be a father. He went to the toilet 30 times in an hour.” Pity. Even if Ethan blew up the toilet, I still had to be born. “Wah wah—” With my crying as I fell to the ground. The nurse happily held me to Ethan: “Congratulations Mr. Cole, your wife gave birth to a daughter.” I carefully opened one eye to look at Ethan. Ethan looked panicked. He grabbed the nurse like he was having a seizure and asked: “Nurse, do you think this child looks like me and my wife?” The nurse froze. She stammered: “Looks like… very much like…” Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, finally showing a trace of a smile on his face: “That’s good, that’s good.” I almost laughed out loud. Did the nurse dare to say no? Ethan put me back in the crib and pushed the still sleeping Stella back to the private ward. While patting my back gently, he sighed: “Haha, my luck is so good.” “Luna Miller, you still failed! Hahaha, hahahaha—” While the nurses went out to handle the birth procedures. I opened my eyes and gave Ethan a 45-degree smile. Using a milky voice, I said: “Grandson, Daddy is here for revenge!” Ethan’s smile froze on his face. He mechanically, frame by frame, turned back to look at me: “What, did, you, say.” Because I was just born and my speech was a bit slurred, I repeated with a lisp: “Son, I am your daaaad—” Before I could finish the rest. Ethan stood up, his trembling hands strangling my neck: “Luna! You little brat, now I am your dad!” “Believe it or not, I’ll strangle you!” I stuck out my tongue: “Strangle, strangle now!” Ethan really did it, not afraid of snapping my weak and fragile throat. I started wailing directly: “Wah wah ah wah wah wah—” The more I cried, the harder Ethan squeezed. Crying until the end, I didn’t even have the strength to make a sound. Without looking in the mirror, I could guess that my pink and jade-carved little face had been turned blue and black by this dog man. “Hehe, die!” Ethan prepared to increase the intensity again. At the critical moment, Stella suddenly woke up. Not knowing where she got the strength, she got up from the delivery bed and kicked Ethan straight on: “If you break my sister’s wings, I will destroy your entire heaven.” Me: “?” Ethan: “?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390311”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was married to my nemesis—a power couple in name only. We kept separate lives, a perfect, icy truce. While she made a spectacle of chasing a younger guy, I drowned my sorrow over the woman who was my one perfect memory, my guiding star. But her boy toy, Brody Wells, didn’t believe our marriage was a formality. He didn’t trust that his queen was truly his. To test the waters—and perhaps my resolve—he’d sneak into our marital penthouse in the dead of night. He once torched the million-dollar, custom-made wedding gown I’d commissioned in Italy, the one I had intended for Nora. Another time, he’d feign drunkenness and deliberately lose the wedding band my wife never took off. And every few days, he’d post veiled threats on social media, trying to challenge my status as the legitimate husband. My wife, Sloan, would call, her voice laced with weary annoyance. “The kid is jealous, I…” I’d cut her off impatiently. “Replace the ring. Fix the damage. Just don’t bother me.” I genuinely thought we’d keep this arrangement forever: mutually undisturbed, existing in parallel hells. Until Brody, emboldened by Sloan’s blind protection, went too far. He used Sloan’s name to steal the specialist appointment I had practically crawled on my knees to secure for Nora. My Nora died because of that delay. It was then I understood. Sloan Harrington and I could never be well again. For the rest of this life, we were each other’s consequence, two people destined to destroy one another. 1 I watched as Nora Clarke’s body was moved into the cremation chamber, reduced to a handful of ash. I held her urn, my arms shaking, and buried her myself. Staring at the beautiful, radiant smile etched onto her headstone, the suffocating grief I’d been holding back surged forward, a tidal wave threatening to drown me whole. I knelt at her grave, tearless, my face a terrifying mask of ice. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I traced the outline of her photograph, sitting there from dawn until the sky was pitch-black. “Nora, I have to go now. Someone has to pay for this. Don’t rush to cross over. Wait for me. I’ll exact my revenge, and then I’ll come find you.” Reluctantly, I walked away from the cemetery gates. I had a debt to collect for her, no matter the cost, even if it meant sacrificing my own life. The accumulated grief in my chest curdled, transforming into towering, consuming rage. Nora shouldn’t have died. I had secured Dr. Vaughn’s coveted treatment slot—the slot I’d practically mortgaged my soul for—only for Sloan to use my wife’s authority to hand it to her beloved Brody Wells for a common cold. By the time I realized the theft, Dr. Vaughn, infuriated by the scheduling error, had already flown overseas. I could only watch, helpless, as Nora took her last breath in my arms. Slamming the gas pedal to the floor, I drove like a fugitive, the speedometer needle touching the absolute maximum. I randomly called Sloan’s number. She picked up instantly. “Carl Owen. Are you finally calling to surrender? If you kneel and beg me, I might—might—forgive you for your decades of neglect, and perhaps even graciously save that little tramp of yours.” Sloan’s mocking voice echoed from the receiver, followed by a chorus of laughter from the people around her. “The great Owen is finally cracking? Honestly, Cal, you need to be the bigger man. Apologize. When you get here, we’ll all bear witness!” “Owen, remember to bring a case of the good stuff. We need to see your sincerity, don’t we?” “And he definitely has to buy Brody a gift, or Nora the short-lived ghost can forget about getting any help from our dear Sloan.” My rationality, already frayed, was incinerated completely the moment I heard them use Nora’s name like that. “Fine. Give me the address,” I said, my voice dry and gravelly. I hung up the second I got the location. The roar of the engine mixed with the frantic thump-thump of my heart as the tires screamed on the pavement. I slammed the brakes at the entrance of the exclusive private club, snatched a steel baton from a security booth, and stormed towards the private dining suite. I kicked the door open, meeting Sloan’s bored, casual gaze. “Well, Mr. Owen. Where is Brody’s gift?” The sycophantic girl who had just called Nora a “short-lived ghost” stepped closer, a smirk plastered on her face. I raised the baton and brought it down hard across her head. A fountain of hot, visceral crimson instantly erupted. “Carl Owen, you’re insane!” 2 She screamed. Before anyone could process what was happening, I had snatched Brody Wells, who stood apart, grinning smugly at my arrival. I swung the baton again, bringing it down with crushing force onto his shoulder. He let out a shriek of raw agony, and that finally jolted Sloan back to reality. She shoved me away and quickly shielded Brody behind her. “Carl Owen! Are you losing it? You’re acting like a rabid dog, tearing apart the furniture!” She glared at me, her brow furrowed with pure disgust. I walked toward her, one slow step at a time. The baton in my hand was gripped so tightly my knuckles were white. “Yes, Sloan. I lost it. The moment you took Nora’s last chance at life and gave it to this animal, I lost everything.” Hearing Nora’s name, Sloan let out a soft, contemptuous laugh. “Still obsessed with that little tramp? Did she call you to complain? She really is a useless thing who can only rely on a man…” I cut her off with a sharp, stinging slap across her face. “You don’t have the right to speak her name, you criminal!” My slap ignited a rage in Sloan that matched my own. She stood up, poking my chest with a manicured finger, her voice a low, venomous growl. “A slut is a slut! Why can’t I mention her? Don’t forget, you are still my husband, Carl Harrington!” Her eyes were filled with hatred. She grabbed a nearby steak knife and pressed the point lightly against my cheek. “Come on, dear husband. Apologize to my Brody-bear.” “Maybe if my mood improves, I’ll even let that tramp live a few more days.” With the knife pressed against me, I was unable to fight. She forced me to crouch down like a dog in front of Brody. I curled my lip into a smile. “Fine. If you can save Nora, I’ll kowtow to him. I’ll grovel.” Sloan’s face instantly chilled, only to snap back into a sneer a second later. “Perfect. I’d like to see just how low you’ll sink for that slut!” The instant she removed the knife, I lunged like a starved wolf, pulling Brody to the floor, sinking my teeth into his neck artery—I wanted to rip him apart! Sloan screamed for her security guards to drag me off. My head hit the floor, but I felt no pain. Only sheer, savage release. I let out a rattling laugh, cold eyes fixed on Brody as he wailed in terror, blood soaking his shirt. Sloan walked over, had a guard yank me up by the collar, and looked me dead in the eye, her expression vile. “You ungrateful, lowlife piece of trash! Since you won’t do it the easy way, you can strip naked, kneel on the floor, and beg Brody for forgiveness!” “Otherwise…” I wiped the blood from my lips and met her gaze fearlessly. “Otherwise what?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390366”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I’ve always lived as my sister’s shadow. I endured my parents’ cold neglect and the cruelty of school bullies. If it had been my sister, Emily, who was bullied, Mom and Dad would have believed her instantly. They would have burned the world down for her. But none of that matters now. In my next life, I’m going to pick parents who actually love me. 1 After writing those final words, I jumped from the sixth floor without a second thought. Thud. It hurt. Then, I was floating. I watched myself lying in a hospital bed, tubes snaking out of my body like vines. The heart monitor beeped weakly, and my face was the color of chalk. My parents, Professor Thomas Vance and Helen Vance, sat by the bed, looking haggard. Mom broke the silence with a complaint: “I just scolded her a little, and she jumps? I wasn’t wrong. She’s nothing compared to Emily.” True. I never measured up to my dead sister. Even my suicide attempt was messy, a waste of hospital resources. Dad lowered his voice to a harsh whisper: “Helen, stop it. Look at her. Is this the time for complaints? We already lost Emily. Do you want to lose Ava too? We’re getting old. It’s too late to have another one. Who’s going to take care of us when we’re senile?” So that’s it. I’m just a replacement and a retirement plan. They didn’t believe my note. They didn’t care why I jumped. I wish I had just died on impact. A doctor called them into his office. I floated after them. The doctor looked grave. “Professor Vance, your daughter’s condition is critical. Multiple organ damage, but the bigger issue is her will to live. It’s almost non-existent. You need to stimulate her brain. Talk to her. Read to her. Find something she cares about.” They nodded, went home, and returned with a stack of my old diaries. 2 Mom flipped open my elementary school diary with a look of impatience and started to read. June 1, 2010 My name is Ava Vance. My aunt says I was only born because my sister, Emily, said on her deathbed: “In my next life, I want to be Mommy’s baby again.” Emily died in a car crash at seventeen. Except for a beauty mark under my eye, I’m nothing like her. Emily loved pink. I love blue. But to make Mom and Dad love me, I wear pink. Always pink. Even if the love they give me is really meant for Emily, I take it. Because they are all I have. Today was Children’s Day. My deskmate, Mia, wore a beautiful blue dress. I couldn’t stop staring at it. Mia saw how much I loved it and offered to switch clothes with me after the school performance so I could wear it for a bit. I was too scared to go outside, so I hid in the bathroom stall to put it on. Mia said I looked pretty, that blue was my color. She was taking pictures of me when Mom found us. She went berserk. She ripped the blue dress off my body and slapped me across the face, over and over, screaming curses. It hurt. I felt humiliated. I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe. Mia tried to stop her. Mom lost her mind and hit Mia too, boxing her ear until it bled. Mia’s mom came to our house to demand an explanation. My mom screamed back: “Your daughter deserved it! Who told her to trade clothes with mine? Trying to stop me from disciplining my own child? If she hadn’t interfered, I wouldn’t have hit her! My daughter cannot wear blue!” Mia never spoke to me again. She went partially deaf in one ear. I lost my only friend. The whole class knew. They stayed away from me like I was contagious. Dad sighed after Mom finished reading. Mom defended herself, her voice hard. “When I saw that blue dress… I thought of the day Emily died. She was wearing blue. Our Emily was only seventeen. Seeing that color… it scares me.” Scared of blue? No. It’s just because Emily didn’t like blue. But even wearing pink, I was never as smart as Emily. 3 The next day, Dad read. April 25, 2010 We got our math tests back. I got an 87. The teacher sighed, looking disappointed. “If it were Emily, she would have gotten a perfect score.” But I really tried. After school, I was too scared to go home. No perfect score means no dinner, and probably a beating. I wandered around the neighborhood, waiting for it to get dark. A strange man tried to talk to me. I ignored him. He got angry, grabbed me, and started dragging me into an alley. I screamed and fought. A teenage boy shouted: “Hey! Put my sister down! I’m calling my dad!” The boy pointed at a man walking in the distance. The stranger dropped me and ran. The boy comforted me. I told him why I was afraid to go home. He said: “87 is a great score! Your parents are probably worried sick. Even if they loved your sister more, they can’t love you zero. Maybe they’re just bad at showing it. Come on, I’ll walk you home.” His words gave me hope. Maybe he was right. How could they not love me at all? He walked me to my door. I felt a mix of fear and hope. 4 Mom was waiting at the door. When she saw me, her face crumpled with worry. She pulled me into a hug. “Ava! Where have you been? I was worried sick!” Was this a dream? Mom really worried about me? The boy was right! Tears filled my eyes. Her hug was so warm. “This nice boy walked me home,” I said. Mom thanked him profusely, looking at me with what seemed like love. The boy left, happy he had helped. I closed the door gently. I turned around. Mom’s face had instantly transformed into a mask of rage. She was holding the long wooden ruler. She snatched my backpack, ripped out the test paper, and saw the score. “87?! I told you, perfect scores only! You useless waste! Is it that hard to get 100? When will you be like your sister? You aren’t my child!” It was all fake. The love was a performance for the neighbor boy. The ruler came down on me, harder and harder. I screamed, begging for mercy. A neighbor knocked to ask what was happening. Mom charmed them away, then came back and beat me harder. “Shut up! Stop crying! You want the whole world to know? You think that will save you?” She tied my hands and feet and taped my mouth shut. She switched to a bamboo cane. Pain wracked my body. I twisted on the floor like a worm. She didn’t stop until I had a nosebleed and she was exhausted. I limped to my room and curled up in the corner, licking my wounds. I hugged myself. Maybe I really wasn’t her child. That’s why she beat me so hard. Where was my real mom? When would she come save me? 5 Dad finished reading. Silence filled the room. “Helen,” Dad said slowly. “Although Ava isn’t Emily, you promised me you wouldn’t hit her anymore. The neighbors asked questions. I had to explain… it’s embarrassing for a family like ours.” Embarrassing. His reputation mattered more than my pain. Mom huffed. “I did it for her own good! Spare the rod, spoil the child. Emily got perfect scores, so Ava has to get them too! That’s the only way she’ll be like Emily. Besides, her grades went up after that, didn’t they? And I haven’t hit her since!” Haven’t hit me since? She hit me so often she forgot. 6 Dad didn’t argue. He acquiesced. I wasn’t excellent like Emily. I couldn’t bring him glory. No one praised Professor Vance for his parenting anymore. Instead, family friends would look at me and sigh. “Such a pity about Emily. So talented.” “Ava just isn’t as sharp as her sister.” “Emily was accepted to Harvard early. A tragedy.” I became obsessed with the ghost of my sister. I wanted to know the person who cast such a long shadow. I wanted to see her room. Mom kept it locked. She cleaned it herself. No one was allowed inside. One afternoon, she forgot to lock it. 7 Dad drank some water and tossed the diary to Mom. She picked it up. September 27, 2013 The door was unlocked. I finally went inside Emily’s room. It was pink, just like mine. It was pristine. Not a speck of dust. In the corner, a beautiful ballet tutu hung on a mannequin. One wall was covered in awards. Trophies piled up on the desk. Sister was amazing. I don’t have any trophies. There were framed photos everywhere. Emily solo. Emily and Mom. Emily and Dad. The three of them, laughing. They looked so happy. They never smiled at me like that. Mom came home early. She found me. 8 She stormed in, grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me out. She screamed like a banshee: “Who said you could go in there?! You are unworthy of stepping foot in Emily’s room! Look at her honors! She is my pride, my treasure! You are a waste of space! A disgrace! I should never have given birth to you! You will never be her!” I hugged her legs, crying. “I know I shouldn’t have gone in, but I just wanted to know what I had to do to make you love me! I wear pink because she liked it! I do everything like her! Mom, I’m your child too! Can’t you love me just a little?” Mom shook me off, looking at me with cold disgust. “Emily is my only daughter. My love is hers. Even if she’s dead. You should be grateful you’re alive and enjoying her things. If I knew you’d turn out like this, I would have strangled you in the cradle.” She grabbed my hair again, trying to smash my head against the wall. Dad came home and stopped her. 9 Mom cut off my lunch money. “You think you’re grown? Go earn your own money then!” Dad said nothing. For a week, I watched my classmates eat lunch. My stomach growled. I lied and said I wasn’t hungry. One afternoon, I fainted from hunger. The school called Dad because Mom refused to come. Dad was furious—because he lost face. A professor’s daughter fainting from hunger? He yelled at Mom at home. Mom yelled back, blaming him for not noticing. They fought. I got my allowance back. Reading this entry, Mom showed no remorse. “I was teaching her a lesson! Rules are rules! Starving a couple of meals never killed anyone. She needed to learn obedience!” So I stopped asking for love. I learned to lie.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “390387”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel