Category: English

Spencer and I applied for the same top-tier Master’s program. We were both aiming for a spot under Dr. Sofia Ramirez, the most sought-after advisor in our field. But she only had one spot left. I hesitated, the familiar guilt tightening in my chest. “If I get it, will it crush Spencer?” My family laughed it off, a wave of dismissive confidence. “It’s based on merit, Caden. Don’t hold back. Just do your best. “You’re both Albright sons. We’ll be happy no matter who gets in.” But on the day of my final interview, I watched as my adopted brother, Spencer, laid his cards on the table. He didn’t just submit a recommendation letter; he submitted a personal note from our mother, Dr. Eleanor Albright—the industry titan. “Mom said if you take me, she’ll personally vote to fast-track your next professional promotion, Dr. Ramirez.” Then, my CEO father, Jonathan Albright, called the department head directly. “Take Spencer Albright, and I’ll fund your research project with a ninety-million-dollar endowment.” My A-list actress sister, Quinn, sent a video message to Dr. Ramirez’s personal assistant. “Choose Spencer, and I’ll recommend your daughter for the lead role in my next prestige series.” My pop-star sister, Scarlett, went even further, sending two exclusive VIP passes to her sold-out stadium tour. “If you take my brother, I’ll personally mentor your son and get his foot in the door.” Spencer looked at Dr. Ramirez, his eyes bright with victory and a carefully calibrated smugness. “They also said, Professor, that if you choose Caden instead of me, all those promises? They’ll do the exact opposite.” I watched the triumph blooming in Spencer’s features, and the blatant, nauseating display of my family’s collective bribery. I stood up. I leaned in, and I whispered just one sentence into the ear of the professor who was already reaching for Spencer’s file. Dr. Ramirez, poised to select Spencer, instantly spun around and pointed straight at me. “I apologize,” she declared, her voice ringing with sudden resolve. “I choose him.” 1 Spencer thought he hadn’t heard correctly. “Professor, who did you just choose?” Dr. Ramirez was definitive. “Caden Albright. Your older brother, Spencer.” Spencer bolted out of his chair, pointing frantically at the desk. The recommendation letter, the endowment papers, the VIP passes. “Professor, did you not see any of this? That letter is hand-signed by my mother!” “I saw it,” Dr. Ramirez said, calmly returning the letter to its envelope. “But the decision of who to mentor belongs solely to me. I choose Caden.” Spencer’s jaw locked. “Do you truly believe my family won’t make you regret this?” Dr. Ramirez hesitated. Everyone knew the Albrights were people of their word—for better or worse. The biotech CEO father. The industry-leading mother. The A-list actress sister. The chart-topping singer sister. They were vindictive, tenacious, and terrifyingly powerful. Any one of them could make life miserable for a university professor. More than that, Dr. Ramirez’s own children could be caught in the crossfire. But she still sighed, a deep, steadying breath. “I’m sorry. My decision is final.” Spencer was incredulous. His eyes, rimmed with hurt, swung to me. I stood beside Dr. Ramirez, meeting his gaze with a cold, unwavering stare. He turned heel, slammed the door, and was gone. Once the sound of his angry footsteps had faded, Dr. Ramirez turned to me, her knees buckling as if to fall. I quickly steadied her. “Dr. Ramirez, please, don’t!” “You’re a miracle worker,” she pleaded, her voice choked with emotion. “Please, Caden, you have to save my father!” 2 Just moments ago, I had leaned over and whispered: “Is your father dealing with a persistent, hacking cough? Does he consistently wake up at three in the morning? And did he travel to Southeast Asia exactly one month ago?” Dr. Ramirez had kept all those details—the exact symptoms, the specific travel location, the time of the nocturnal wake-up—completely private. Multiple doctors had failed to diagnose the issue. She had suspected a tropical pathogen or something worse, but as a respected academic, she couldn’t dare voice her deepest fears about a curse or a spiritual attachment. But I had articulated every minute detail. I let out a slow sigh. “Don’t worry, Professor. It’s a small problem.” 3 A week later, the warmth returned to Dr. Ramirez’s face. Her father was well, the ominous cough gone. She had zero regrets about accepting me, even knowing the consequences of crossing my adoptive family. Now, she understood everything. The fate of every Albright had been fundamentally broken. My mother, the industry leader, was initially destined for obscurity and to die of a broken spirit. My father, the CEO, was fated to be perpetually broke, struggling just to stay above water. My sister Quinn, the actress, was meant to suffer a horrific accident that would disfigure her and end her career prematurely. And my sister Scarlett, the singer, was born to be deaf and mute, dying young. I was the exception. I was born with a gift—a natural-born spiritual anchor. I saw their doomed fates and quietly adjusted the energetic architecture of our home. It was a subtle, constant manipulation: lifting Mom’s career higher, filling Dad’s coffers, safeguarding Quinn’s face, and granting Scarlett a voice like velvet. But I was forbidden to ever speak of it. Revealing the truth would instantly strip me of my abilities. They were kind to me, in the beginning. The money I earned from odd jobs and small projects I funneled back into the family, and they did use some of their wealth to raise me. Then Spencer arrived. He was the orphan of my parents’ dear friends. The funds allocated for me dwindled. Soon, I had to formally request even ten dollars from Mom and Dad. They would wipe away my tears and say, “Spencer has no one. He is entirely dependent on us. Besides, if we don’t favor him, people will say we’re biased toward our own. Caden, you have to consider the family image.” So, I stopped crying. I watched them elevate Spencer, piece by piece. Since he was the descendant of a revered old-school artist, the Albright name gained enormous cultural prestige by adopting him. I celebrated their success silently, constantly working in the shadows to maintain the energetic balance that kept them safe. But when I got home from the interview, the atmosphere felt wrong. Quinn and Scarlett, who rarely visited, were both there. Spencer was on the sofa, his eyes red-rimmed and dramatically wounded. Quinn grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Do you have any idea how long Spencer has been planning this Master’s program? Why are you always so difficult, always trying to snatch things from him?” She yanked me toward the attic door, shoving me inside. “Stay in here and think about what you did. You can come out when Spencer forgives you.” The cold, damp energy immediately rushed up to meet me. I desperately lunged for the door, trying to stop her from locking it. But Quinn was faster. Click. The deadbolt slid home. “Don’t lock me in, Quinn! I’m scared!” She knew. When I was five, I’d accidentally gotten locked in the attic. When she finally found me, I was burning with fever and nearly died. She’d sobbed, holding me, swearing repeatedly that she was a terrible sister and promising to never let me near that dark, terrifying space again. Once we got rich, she’d even paid a maid to guard the attic entrance just in case I wandered in. Now, for her new brother, she had shoved me in herself. What I’d never told her was that when I was five, it wasn’t an accident. The attic was the spiritual “sewer” of the house—where I locked up all the toxic energy and accumulated bad luck to keep the family’s good fortune flowing. The trapped, resentful energies had drawn me in and savagely retaliated. Those dark forces had not dissipated. “If you’re going to steal from your little brother, you need to understand the consequences,” Quinn’s voice was cold on the other side of the door. “You’re an adult now. A little attic can’t hurt you.” “No! Quinn! Please, don’t!” Her footsteps faded. The air behind me grew thick and heavy with concentrated spiritual grime. I couldn’t dare turn around. A shadow flickered at the bottom of the door. My eyes lit up. “Scarlett!” Scarlett looked through the narrow gap, a slight frown on her perfect face. “Scarlett! Do me a favor! Go get the protective sandalwood charm from my room, okay?” She nodded. And left. A moment later, she was back, holding the charm. I was nearly weeping with relief. Maybe this sister, the one I’d protected for twenty years, still cared. “Is this it?” The small, hand-carved sandalwood charm dangled in front of my face. I reached for it, desperately hoping she would slide it under the door. But then: CRACK! She snapped the charm clean in half. The protective amulet that had shielded me for two decades was mercilessly broken. “Scarlett!” I screamed, a raw, insane sound. She dropped the pieces on the dusty floor. “You’re genuinely pathetic, Caden. You’re this old and you’re still trying to steal from Spencer? Quinn and I have real talent. We made it on our own. We don’t need whatever garbage you’re fiddling with. Who knows what black magic you used to get that spot over Spencer. Breaking this is probably for the best.” She turned to leave. “Scarlett! Scarlett, come back! I could actually die in here!” Shrieks and agonized cries echoed from the dark attic. My desperate screams were deafening. But downstairs, I heard music start up, drowning out my misery. I don’t know when the music stopped. I only remember slumping against the door, my body weak and shivering. The door cracked open a tiny bit. Mom and Dad looked in. “Caden, are you okay?” “Dad! Mom! Get me out! Please!” I clawed at the doorframe, tears streaming. The spiritual toxins were invisible to them, but they were driving me to the brink of collapse. My parents exchanged a look, and I thought I saw a flicker of pity. “We’ll get the key.” They left. I waited and waited. It was dark before anyone returned. The maid Quinn had stationed outside the door stood there. I looked at her with wide, pleading eyes. “Where are Mom and Dad?” “Don’t bother, Mr. Caden. Young Master Spencer was very upset. The Mister and Missus, along with the two young ladies, were unable to console him. They’ve already left for a vacation in the Bahamas.” “What did you say?” My hands, clinging to the doorframe, slid down to the floor. They had forgotten me. I didn’t know if I could survive the night. 4 Dr. Ramirez was the one who kicked the door down and pulled me out. I spent a day and a night in the hospital, recovering, before I could finally open my eyes. Dr. Ramirez squeezed my hand, thanking me profusely. “You told me to keep my younger child home yesterday, and you were right—the exact spot she was supposed to be at collapsed! You saved my family’s life again! I couldn’t reach you yesterday, and I had a terrible feeling. I should have trusted my gut…” She clenched her jaw. When the attic door finally opened, even the maid Quinn had hired gasped in horror at my state. My phone pinged. A new post from Spencer. The background was exactly the white sands of the Bahamas. Spencer, in stylish summer wear and expensive sunglasses, was grinning and throwing up a peace sign. My sisters were flanking him, making heart shapes with their hands. Mom and Dad looked on, faces filled with doting adoration. The caption read: [Why would I ever be upset? With a loving family like mine, I’ll never feel anything but cherished.] Dr. Ramirez sighed. “I know I sometimes get caught up in my two kids, but this level of favoritism is beyond belief!” I put the phone down, my fists tight. “Since they value Spencer so much, I’m going to make sure the one they’ve so carefully protected becomes my ultimate failure.” 5 It wasn’t long before my mother called me into the study room. “I hear you’re applying for the National Science Advancement Award, the same one Spencer is going for?” I nodded. “Withdraw your application. Spencer needs this award to qualify for a more prestigious national fellowship.” “I want to apply for it too.” Mom frowned. “You have other academic achievements you can use, Caden. Why are you so fixated on this one?” I looked straight at her. “Because this award is the most significant competitive edge in the field. Mom, you’re afraid of me blocking Spencer’s path. But even if I withdraw, do you think every other candidate will just hand him the prize? It’s a contest of merit.” “Nonsense!” She slapped her palm on the desk. “I understand merit! But I absolutely refuse to have you, my own son, stand in opposition to Spencer!” I froze. “Caden, you’re Spencer’s older brother. If you stand against him, he’ll be hurt.” A bitter, wrenching laugh escaped me. “Mom, are you truly worried about him? Or are you worried about your own standing?” She paled. “Spencer is the descendant of a revered artist, your late friend’s orphan. Everyone in the industry knows. If he shines, the world sees you as the noble, generous savior—the one who deserves to be held in the same esteem as that late artist. You think I haven’t figured that out?” Mom’s face was chalk white. I’d overheard them recently. Mom and Dad, consulting in the study. I heard my father’s sigh. “This will be unfair to Caden, but it will bring the Albright name so much more prestige.” I smiled bitterly. “Prestige. That’s all it ever is. Is giving the four of you a chance to shine worth sacrificing my entire life? Am I not your son? Am I not Quinn and Scarlett’s brother?” “Slap!” A stinging blow landed across my face, unexpected and vicious. Mom looked at me with incomprehension and disgust. “What ridiculous garbage are you spouting?” She grabbed her handbag and stormed out, looking both furious and like she was running away. “You truly are an ungrateful wretch!” 6 Dr. Ramirez was officially warned by my parents, but she ignored them. She threw herself into helping me secure the Science Advancement Award. However, soon after, our lab equipment suppliers collectively and suddenly backed out of their contracts. Without the right gear, our research was impossible, and the application was dead in the water. Dr. Ramirez used every contact she had to borrow what we needed. But the next day, those colleagues and friends sheepishly returned and took their equipment back. Several even cut off contact. One of Dr. Ramirez’s close friends stammered out a hint: “It’s not what we want to do, but there’s a major corporate investor who’s made it clear… you know, the one who funds a lot of our key projects…” He gave her a meaningful look. ‘You get it?’ Dr. Ramirez and I silently made way for them. Only one person had the financial clout to cripple nearly every collaborative project in the area. My father, Jonathan Albright. I clenched my fists. “It’s fine. We’ll build our own.” Dr. Ramirez and I sourced components ourselves. Within a month, the custom rig was nearly complete. The day I got my breakthrough data, I posted an innocuous photo of the results on my private feed. My mother called instantly. “Do you really have to fight your family—fight Spencer—like this?” Before I could answer, I heard Scarlett’s voice from the background. “Spencer failed his experiment and hasn’t eaten all day! Why are you so vile, always taking what belongs to others!” I hung up without a word. Mom called back, her voice tight. “Caden! Withdraw the application. Delete the post. Do you hear me?” I pressed the ‘End Call’ button. But the next day, Mom showed up at the university. Everyone was stunned. “Is that Dr. Albright? The Dr. Albright, the industry titan? I heard she won’t even step foot on an Ivy League campus! Why is she here, at our small local school?” “Oh my God, she’s my idol! I got into this program because of her! I need an autograph!” I stood in the crowd, watching my mother in genuine shock. Spencer was right beside her, and the two of them commanded all the attention. Her eyes met mine. Her expression instantly cooled, and she quickly looked away. The award selection was held shortly after her “inspection.” My findings were the most innovative and academically sound. Yet, I was rejected. I didn’t even qualify for an honorable mention. Dr. Ramirez sighed heavily. “Turns out Dr. Albright brought Spencer and the judges to a private dinner when she was here. She’s an industry titan, Caden. No one wants to risk crossing her.” The realization hit me hard. I smiled, a painful twist of my mouth. On the walk back to the dorms, several cars suddenly blocked my path. “You’re the actress Quinn’s little brother, right?” “Look who we have here. Are you the one who ruined Scarlett’s last live stream?” I was completely confused. Someone shoved a phone in my face. It was a clip of Quinn’s recent interview. When asked about her private life, she’d paused, sighing dramatically: “Oh, you know… my younger brother. He’s causing trouble again, making things difficult. My headaches are back. Otherwise, things are fine.” Next was a clip from a music awards ceremony where Scarlett had noticeably missed a note. In a post-performance interview, she’d sighed: “There’s been some family drama lately. My brother, you know… well, I shouldn’t make excuses. Missing that note was my fault, and I apologize to my fans.” Scarlett never missed a note. My sisters were deliberately signaling to their massive fan bases—painting me as the troubled, difficult sibling. Now, their combined fans were surrounding me. “A big deal, aren’t you? Causing the A-list actress and the pop star to both look upset?” “Honestly, you’re just not as good as Spencer. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” “Your family might spoil you, but we fans won’t tolerate your spoiled behavior, rich boy!” Someone grabbed my collar. I tried to turn and run. Another person tripped me. I fell face-first onto the pavement. A sharp, brutal punch landed squarely on my cheek. Through the window of a Rolls-Royce, stopped at the red light, I saw Quinn and Scarlett’s startled faces. I screamed, “Quinn! Scarlett! Help me!” The light turned green. They exchanged a quick look. And the tinted window slid up. “You little leech! You think you can bother our sisters?” “Let’s teach you how to behave, you spoiled brat!” 7 A few kind strangers intervened and pulled them off me. On the walk home, my clothes were shredded. My shoes were gone, and every step left a bloody print on the sidewalk. “Whose kid is that? Looks like a lunatic.” “Kids today are crazy. Walking around like that.” I pushed open the door to the house. Everyone turned to look at me. A massive, professionally tiered cake sat on the dining table. Oh. Right. It was Spencer’s birthday. “You come home looking like that? Did you know it was Spencer’s party and decide to deliberately start a fight?” I looked at the cold, judgmental faces of my parents and my sisters. I smiled, a wide, unsettling grin. I kicked the spiritual mirror, the one that kept the house’s energy clean, sending shards everywhere. I grabbed the lucky money-tree plant and violently ripped it out of its pot. I took the cake knife and slashed the red, braided safety rope hanging on the wall—the one that had guarded their lives. “Caden Albright, are you insane!” My eyes were red, hot, and wild as I spun to face them. “Go to hell. All of you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389552”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My boyfriend, Ethan, is the top rescue team captain in Alaska. As long as it’s a mission he handles, there has never been a failure; he is the man who creates miracles in the blizzard. But while I was dying under a massive glacier, gasping for my last breath, Ethan was piloting a helicopter to “rescue” his “first love,” Lily, tossing my distress signal to an inexperienced intern. He didn’t know that Lily hadn’t encountered an avalanche at all. She had faked everything, tricking him into coming just to stage a grand, surprise confession. When Lily threw herself into Ethan’s arms and the crowd cheered for their “survival” and love, I swallowed my last breath beneath the ice. Five days later, Ethan finally climbed over that snow-capped mountain and found the victim’s body. When he saw that the person crushed under the ice and rock was me, he froze. He couldn’t believe that Chloe, the spoiled, high-maintenance heiress he knew, would actually run off to the bitter cold of Alaska to be a volunteer teacher. Ethan lunged forward like a madman, trying to grab my hand, but the ice layer suddenly cracked, and I fell into the bottomless crevasse. Ethan, you bastard. Here is your ring back. This time, I’m not going home with you. 1. A massive block of ice crushed my spine. I couldn’t crawl out. The extreme cold slowly numbed my senses. Bright red blood flowed uncontrollably, freezing into eerie patterns on the blue ice. I was so scared. I was only twenty-four; I didn’t want to die here. I’m actually not strong at all. I’m a coward who cries at everything. I’m afraid of pain, afraid of the dark, and terrified of leaving this world all alone. Dad, Mom, Ethan… please, someone come save Chloe. But wait, who is crying so sadly nearby? I remember now. It’s Leo and Mia. That brother and sister who returned to school because of my classes. Right now, they are frantically digging at the fallen rocks with their rough little hands. Their fingernails are broken, their hands covered in blood. “Ms. Chloe, don’t die! Please don’t die!” “It’s all our fault for looking for that stupid ‘treasure.’ We hurt the teacher!” A dull thud echoed from deep within the ice cave. It was going to collapse. I struggled to squeeze out a voice: “Hey, babies, don’t cry. Ms. Chloe is fine. You need to run. Go down the mountain and find adults. Listen to me.” “When you get home, make a pot of hot cocoa for me. Teacher is just a little cold.” Leo was a stubborn boy; he refused to leave. His five-year-old sister, Mia, was smart. She cried and pulled at her brother: “We are too weak! We can’t save the teacher! We have to find the rescue team uncles!” Blood had soaked my palms and wet my long blonde hair. I dared not imagine how miserable I looked right now. I was shaking uncontrollably. My vision began to blur. Ice shards fell onto my face. I knew that tons of glacial ice were about to flatten this place. Gasping for air, I used my last ounce of strength to tell Leo: “Mia is right. My boyfriend is the rescue team captain, Ethan. Have you heard of him? He is the hero of Denali. He never misses a rescue.” Leo and Mia finally saw hope: “I know! I know him! He’s a legend! We’ll go find him right now!” I definitely won’t die. As long as Ethan is there, he won’t let anything happen to me. If it’s his mission, he will never miss the golden rescue window. 2. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Ethan. I rushed forward, wanting to hug him. “Ethan, I knew you wouldn’t leave me behind!” But my hands passed straight through his body. I stood there, stunned. Before I could react, rescue team members walked back and forth, passing through my soul again and again. The cruel reality stood before me—I was no longer human. Just as I was lost and terrified, a dispatcher rushed up to Ethan with an emergency distress slip. “Captain! Villagers reported a volunteer teacher trapped in the North Slope glacier. Time of incident: yesterday noon!” The name on that slip was clearly mine. Chloe Vance, 24, Volunteer Teacher. Ethan was about to reach for it, but his vice-captain and best friend, Mark, rushed in looking panicked. “Ethan! Bad news! Lily got caught in an avalanche on the South Slope! You know she has an old leg injury; this looks bad!” Mark glanced at the distress slip in Ethan’s hand and said impatiently, “I’ll arrange for the intern to check that one out. You need to go save Lily! Don’t forget, she came here to be a medic just to follow in your footsteps!” Lily. Lily again. That woman who haunts my life. I was furious. I blocked Ethan’s path desperately, even though I knew it was futile. “If you go save Lily, I will never speak to you again!” “Ethan, do you hear me?! I am your girlfriend!” “Send someone else to save her! You have to stay and save me! That slip says it’s me!” “Bastard! If you leave today, I really won’t want you anymore!” I screamed at him over and over. Knowing he couldn’t hear me. Knowing how anxious he was the moment he heard Lily was in trouble. I watched helplessly as Ethan didn’t pause for a second. He grabbed his gear and sprinted toward the helicopter without a moment’s hesitation. A bitter despair didn’t stop me from trying. I tried to grab him, but grasped only air. I tried to block him, but he walked right through my soul. I chased after him, but the midday sun burned me, forcing me to shrink back into the shadows. Smoking and trembling, I hugged myself tightly. Chloe, what exactly are you expecting? Expecting him to hear a ghost speak? Or expecting him to grow a conscience and turn back to save the “troublesome” girlfriend he left behind? Ethan, turn around and look at that slip. That’s Chloe. Your spoiled girlfriend is crushed under a glacier, waiting to die. I was so sad. Why, even when I’m dying, do you all still put Lily first? She was just an adopted daughter my parents took in. Yet she shamelessly stole my parents, stole my lover, and stole everything that was mine. 3. Lily is the definition of a “Pick-me girl,” a pristine “White Lotus.” I’ve known Ethan since I was five. Ethan was the son of a family friend; we were childhood sweethearts for ten years. When Lily came to foster with my family, she was already sixteen. But she came from behind, using that pitiful act to steal all the attention that originally belonged to me. Dad said Lily was gentle and sensible, a true lady. And I, Chloe, was arrogant and domineering, a spoiled brat. Mom said Lily studied medicine hard and was a kind angel. And I, Chloe, was selfish and only knew how to enjoy life. Ethan was a glorious rescue hero, a perfect match for the life-saving doctor, Lily. And I was useless and had a vicious heart. I was even accused of causing Lily to end up in a wheelchair. But I never hurt anyone! A year ago, when I heard Ethan was back on leave, I happily went to find him. Lily lied and told me Ethan was in closed training in the city and told me not to disturb him. Then, she stole the VIP tickets I had bought and went to watch the Taylor Swift concert with Ethan. And I waited in the hallway of his apartment all afternoon like an idiot. I’m a bit dumb, but how could she lie to me so blatantly? I went to confront her angrily. Lily accidentally bumped into a roadside billboard and hurt her leg. But she cried and told everyone that I pushed the billboard over to crush her. Her reasoning was that since I stayed in the hallway all afternoon, I was planning this “murder.” I was the biggest scapegoat in the world. To prove my innocence, I searched frantically for evidence. But there were no cameras on that street corner, and the only witness didn’t want to get involved. Isolated and helpless, I proposed calling the police. Lily cried and grabbed everyone’s sleeves, begging them to “let me go.” Her tears fell like broken pearls as she sobbed, “Don’t blame my sister, she didn’t mean it.” She cried until my parents’ hearts broke, and they held her in their arms to comfort her. They shook their heads and sighed, looking at me with total disappointment. “Chloe, we know you’re jealous, but this is too much. We really spoiled you rotten.” In that moment, I felt my world collapse. Lying in the hospital bed, Lily, with red-rimmed eyes, questioned me: “Chloe, I always treated you like a biological sister. Just because I watched a concert with Ethan, how could you do something so cruel?” I argued back. My voice was loud, my attitude was fierce. But why should I admit to something I didn’t do? Lily clutched her head, screaming in pain: “Stop! My head hurts!” The doctor came in at just the right time: “The patient needs rest. And her leg… I’m afraid she won’t be able to do strenuous exercise for a long time.” Lily broke down crying. I couldn’t understand: “It’s just a fracture, not paralysis! You’re a med student, don’t you have any common sense? Stop crying!” Ethan, who had been silent, finally couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed my wrist and shoved me hard against the wall. “Enough! Chloe, get out!” 4. Realizing that even Ethan wouldn’t stand by me. My heart died completely. I stood there, watching my parents hold Lily’s hand, promising, “Don’t worry, we will do everything to compensate you.” That day, my father cut off all my credit cards. My mother dropped the ultimatum: if I didn’t apologize to Lily, I was never allowed to step foot in the house again. And my boyfriend turned around and left for the rescue base in Alaska. For a whole year, he didn’t reply to a single message. My best friend described me as: a silly deer that only knows how to bare its teeth. Bad temper, simple brain, completely manipulated by that manipulator. I admit it. But I still came to Alaska. Not to chase Ethan back, but to prove that I could be a useful person too. I hid my identity and became a volunteer teacher in this remote village. I wanted to show them what the real Chloe was like. … The rescue vehicle sped along the highway. The team members were chatting. Mark glanced at the solemn Ethan and gossiped with the new members: “You guys didn’t know, right? Dr. Lily and the Captain are actually childhood sweethearts.” “Dr. Lily came here just to follow the Captain. It’s so touching.” “Captain, since you’re single now anyway, why not just get together with Dr. Lily?” I floated beside them and blinked. So in their eyes, Ethan has been single for a long time. Was I “broken up with” without knowing it? Chloe, you are pathetic. I could only get on the truck because the sky was overcast. But now, I regretted it. Ten minutes later, the truck stopped. The scene in front of me left me stunned.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389568”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My mother, Deb, was frail, a delicate china doll who told everyone within earshot that she suffered from depression and couldn’t handle any kind of stress. At our annual Thanksgiving family dinner, I refused the king lobster leg she’d painstakingly cracked open for me. It wasn’t spite; it was a severe shellfish allergy. She burst into silent tears, her voice trembling as she asked why I was trying to cut her out of my life. My father, Rich, his face already a thundercloud, sharply reprimanded me: “You know your mother can’t handle stress, Cassidy. Why are you always so difficult?” I remembered forcing it down last time, my throat closing, my skin erupting in painful, grotesque hives that left me looking like I’d wrestled a beehive. Then, she dragged over the man my Aunt Carol had set me up with—Garrett Cole—and cheerfully insisted we go on a remote hike the next day. My breathing hitched. I managed a strained, “No, thank you. I can’t.” My mother started to wail—not just cry, but a theatrical, gut-wrenching sob—claiming I wanted to be a spinster, that I was driving her to take a handful of pills. The table of relatives, half-coaxing and half-bullying, shoved me into his car. Up on that isolated trail, I was assaulted, then pregnant, then forced to marry him, the shame of the situation weaponized against me. After the wedding, the emotional abuse quickly escalated to physical beatings that left me with permanent, life-altering injuries. When I finally pressed for divorce, my mother came to my hospital bedside. “You file those papers, and I’ll jump off the parking garage roof.” Utterly broken and without hope, I chose the only escape left. I stepped off the rooftop myself. Now, I was back. I opened my eyes to the exact moment my mother was pushing that lobster leg toward me. “Cassie, this one’s packed with meat.” “Your mother wouldn’t dream of eating it herself! I save all the best things for my girl!” My mother deliberately raised her voice, ensuring everyone heard. I slowly turned my head, my neck stiff, and met her gaze. It was that familiar look: cloying expectation mixed with thinly veiled martyrdom. The bone-deep realization hit me: I was back. I was home. Last lifetime, I’d refused the king lobster due to my allergy. She had instantly burst into tears in front of everyone, twisting the knife. “Are you blaming me because I couldn’t give you a rich girl’s life?” she’d wept. “You’re too good for this food, is that it? Are you trying to cut ties with me?” My father, the ever-enabler, had scolded me for being inconsiderate. Too humiliated to fight, I choked down the lobster, nearly suffocating in the process. Yet, even as I was struggling to breathe, she was busy cramming me into Garrett Cole’s car. That monster, that domestic terrorist, had destroyed the only life I had. I remembered my own funeral. Lying unrecognizable in the morgue, she had played the distraught, grieving widow, weeping until she “fainted.” But the first thing she did after “recovering” was arrange for me to be buried in the Coles’ family plot. I would never forget it. The sick, triumphant glint in her eyes as she forced me into the repulsive, itchy yellow burial shroud—the color I’d hated since I was a child. “I was doing what was best for you, honey. Why wouldn’t you just listen to me?” Hatred seared through every nerve ending. I balled my fists under the table, tasting the metallic tang of rage. I reached out, picked up the lobster leg, and with absolute finality, placed it back in her bowl. “I have a severe shellfish allergy, Mom. I can’t eat it.” The rehearsed smile on her face froze, then shattered. Her eyes welled up, but this time, the tears looked real—the tears of a performer whose cue was missed. “Seriously? The minute your own mother says something you don’t like, you try to embarrass me in public?” “Am I going to hurt you? You will eat this lobster, or I swear to God, I’ll—” I cut her off, my voice steady and cold, staring straight into her calculating, needy eyes. “Or you’ll pitch a fit? Throw a tantrum? Maybe threaten to take a cocktail of meds?” “Mom, if you have a genuine illness, go to a doctor and get medication. You won’t cure it by using me as your punching bag and emotional hostage.” The sudden, brutal honesty hung in the air. The other relatives exchanged uncomfortable, disapproving glances. My mother stared at me, dumbfounded, before slamming her fork and plate down. “I’m sick because you make me sick! You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” she screeched. My father immediately put his arm around her, soothing her while glaring at me. “Cassidy, enough. Stop this right now.” With her audience validated, my mother became bolder. She stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at me, her voice shrill. “I’m her mother! I know her better than anyone! She is doing this on purpose just to undermine me!” She dissolved into frantic, muffled sobs, covering her face. I almost laughed. It was her signature move: the performance of self-sacrifice designed to drown everyone in guilt and force immediate compromise. This time, I felt nothing but a hollow emptiness. Aunt Carol quickly scooped up the lobster and dumped it into my clean plate. “It’s a holiday, sweetie. Just apologize to your mother, eat the lobster, and don’t upset her. Young people are tough; it’s not a real allergy. You’re just picky.” The other relatives chimed in with awkward placations. “She’s right, Cassie. You know how sensitive your mother is. Just go with it.” In the last lifetime, I would have eaten it silently, my skin already itching in anticipation. This time, I calmly pulled out my phone and held the screen up for the whole table to see. “I’m not being picky. I have a severe, life-threatening allergy.” My voice was quiet, but it held the authority of undeniable fact. “A single bite could put me into anaphylactic shock. This is the discharge paperwork from the last time my mother insisted I just ‘try’ the shrimp.” I looked pointedly at Aunt Carol. “Are you suggesting I risk my life again just to prove I’m a ‘dutiful’ daughter?” The table fell completely silent. Aunt Carol swallowed hard, her face draining of color. “Well,” she stammered, looking away. “Kids these days are so dramatic. Liz, don’t you worry about it. If she doesn’t want it, forget it.” Seeing her control slipping, my mother grabbed a fruit knife from the dessert platter. She began waving it wildly, tears streaming down her face. “You think I don’t deserve to be your mother? Fine! I’ll just end it! I’ll die right here!” She held the blade against her throat, her eyes red, but clearly waiting for my capitulation. The relatives’ faces contorted with manufactured panic and fury—all directed at me. I was the villain for refusing to be emotionally blackmailed. I stood up, expressionless, and looked from her frantic face to my father’s condemning one, and then to the pitying-yet-judgemental relatives. One compromise now would only set the stage for an infinite cycle of abuse. I was done with this life. I was done with her. I strode purposefully toward the door, shoving the heavy oak panel open, desperate to escape the suffocating air of the private dining room. But the sight of the man standing on the other side of the threshold froze the blood in my veins. Garrett Cole. My husband. My rapist. My abuser. His eyes slid past me and into the room, a picture of polite concern. “Mrs. Miller? Is everything alright in here?” I remembered the hike, the assault on a deserted patch of trail. When I wanted to call the police, my mother had stopped me, her voice a chilling whisper. “If this gets out, how can I face anyone? Your poor mother has depression, she can’t handle the shock. I taught you to be pure, Cassidy, and you wouldn’t listen.” Her words, rank and corrosive, washed over me like a tide of sewage, extinguishing the last flicker of hope and self-preservation. After the wedding, his true self had emerged. Every day, a fresh excuse for a beating or a verbal assault. When I finally showed my bruised face to my mother, she only worried about the neighbors. “Divorce? Don’t be ridiculous. We’d be a laughingstock. I can’t handle that stress. If he’s hitting you, it must be because you’re not trying hard enough. I told you: be gentle, be supportive, always put your husband first.” I remember staring at the seemingly fragile woman, wondering, with a cold horror, Did she ever actually love me? Then came the final escalation. Garrett had seen me talking to the security guard in the parking lot. He locked me in the bathroom, using a steel needle to pierce my fingers. He cut out my tongue and spent seven agonizing hours beating me to within an inch of my life. When I was finally found, the police charged him with aggravated assault. I was categorized as having Level Two permanent injuries. My mother’s arrival at the hospital was delayed, but her first request wasn’t to see if I was conscious. It was to sign a statement of non-prosecution and drop the divorce. She cried until her face was swollen. “If you divorce him, I’m jumping off the building.” Garrett, on bail, had smiled the most chilling, victorious smile I’d ever seen. “As long as your mother is alive, you are stuck with me, Cassidy.” The memories of that absolute despair—the rooftop, the jump—left me utterly hollowed out. Garrett was the killer, but my mother was the accessory, the co-conspirator. Why did she hurt me so much? The question used to haunt me. Now, I simply didn’t care. I tried to side-step him and get out, but my arm was caught. My mother’s voice, sickeningly sweet now, wafted from behind me. “Cassidy, where are you going? I’m sorry, alright?” She had dropped the knife and was standing just behind me, her eyes still red, but a saccharine smile already in place. “My little girl. Going to get married, and still acting out. Now, this is Garrett. Aunt Carol set you up. He graduated at the top of his class—he’s ten times the catch you are. You need to grab him. Take his number. You two are getting married tomorrow!” Garrett extended his hand, his expression a picture of gentle, modest charm. A primal sense of dread flooded me. Only I knew the vicious demon hiding behind that handsome, wholesome facade. My mother cleared her throat, realizing the room was still a mess of shocked relatives. “A mother is a fool, isn’t she? No matter how you treat me, my heart is only for your well-being.” “Now, I’m not going to hold a grudge. You two kids go sit down and chat.” She was forcing us together, finalizing the deal she’d already made with my life. I yanked my arm free from her grasp, cold sweat prickling my face. “I have nothing to say to him!” My mother’s face tightened into a furious grimace, but she grabbed my arm, her grip vise-like. Aunt Carol quickly pulled Garrett into the room. “Cassidy’s just shy, dear. You two can catch up later.” Garrett nodded, that polite smile never wavering. My mother leaned in, a low, savage warning hissed in my ear. “Stop reading those videos online about not getting married and having children. Wait till you’re old and lonely—then you’ll regret it.” I scoffed, shaking my head. “I’m not getting married. I don’t need a man to validate my worth.” “And I’m certainly not having children. I don’t have the compulsion to control another human being’s life the way you do.” The temperature in the room plummeted. My mother reacted like a startled animal. She shrieked, her hand flying up. “Look at yourself in the mirror! What on earth makes you think you’re good enough to find someone better? You should be grateful Garrett even looked at you!” I saw the swing coming. I caught her wrist in mid-air and, with all the residual strength of my rage, I shoved her away. She was completely off-balance. CRASH! She stumbled backward, hitting the floor in a heap of fabric and fake tears. My father’s reaction was immediate and volcanic. He surged across the room and delivered a vicious, open-handed slap across my face. The force was staggering. The room went dark for a split second, and I reeled backward, hitting my head on the sharp corner of a wooden cabinet. Warm, sticky blood immediately trickled down my temple. The intense pain brought with it an icy, terrifying clarity. I wiped the blood from my cheek and stared, cold-eyed, at every person in the room. There was no fear, no submission. Only resolve. Garrett raised an eyebrow, a flicker of something that looked like excitement in his eyes. He quickly masked it with a pious frown. “Cassie, how can you speak to your mother like that?” That was it. That single sentence, that show of support, lit the fuse on my mother’s pent-up rage and desire for a dramatic performance. “I was only trying to protect my daughter’s future!” She hammered the floor with her fists, weeping hysterically. “What did I do wrong? Cassidy, if you don’t agree to marry Garrett, I’m jumping out that window right now!” She scrambled to her feet and rushed toward the massive bay window. We were on the tenth floor of this upscale steakhouse. I watched her, a dead calm settling over me. I knew she wouldn’t take the final step. I pointed to the blood still oozing from my forehead. My voice was low, cutting through the din of her fake sobs. It sounded like a thunderclap to everyone present. “Stop acting, Mom. If you were truly depressed, you’d have been dead a thousand times over already.” Her movements arrested mid-dash. Her crying caught in her throat for a second. It was the ultimate exposure, the piercing of her most carefully constructed lie. She exploded into an even more desperate, ear-splitting howl. The relatives surged forward, their shock turning into righteous fury. They were going to teach me a lesson. Punches and insults rained down on me. I curled into a ball, shielding my head. Amidst the chaos, my trembling hand managed to press the pre-dialed emergency button on my phone. The police arrived quickly. The moment the door swung open, my mother, ever the performer, found her anchor. She rushed forward, falling at the feet of the officer. “Officer, please, you have to help me!” she sobbed, tears flowing freely. “I have severe depression, I can’t handle stress, and I was just trying to find a good husband for my daughter. But she… she attacked me! She hit me and told me to jump off the building!” The relatives rushed to corroborate her story, pointing at me and calling me an ungrateful monster. Garrett Cole stepped forward, his face full of tragic concern. “Mrs. Miller’s condition is very fragile. Cassidy… she was truly out of line.” Suddenly, the entire focus of blame had shifted to me. I was taken into custody. However, aside from the obvious injury to my head—caused by my father—there was no other physical evidence of “assault” on my part. My mother, needing to preserve the image of her delicate mental state, was advised to go home and rest. After giving my statement, I walked out into the chilly night air, no longer caring about the consequences. I contacted an old friend out of state and began making arrangements to leave the country. But just before boarding the flight, I was intercepted by a small, hostile crowd. “Cassie! How can you look at yourself, doing that to your sick mother? Don’t you have a conscience?” I looked closer. My mother had connected with a major “Mental Health Advocacy” live-stream channel. She was weeping to thousands of viewers about how her “unfilial daughter” was trying to drive her to suicide. The carefully edited clips and her agonizing script had instantly ignited social media outrage. A wave of profound helplessness washed over me as I looked at the angry faces surrounding me. I noticed a reporter with a camera rolling, and a terrifying, cold calm settled over me. “Yes,” I said, my voice shockingly level. “Everything you read online is true.” “I, Cassidy Morgan, told my mother, who claims to have severe depression, to jump off a ten-story building.” The crowd erupted in shock. The news went viral immediately. My mother, sensing victory, rushed to the live-stream location. She clearly thought I was finally broken. She played the picture of the forgiving, heartbroken saint, tears welling in her eyes as she reached for my hand. “Cassidy, I forgive you. All you have to do is agree to marry Garrett Cole. We’ll put the past behind us and start a happy life together.” I looked at her, my expression serene. “Fine,” I said. The word was like a knife in the quiet chaos. “I agree to marry him. But first, you have to agree to an immediate, public psychiatric evaluation—a transparent check on both of us.” My mother’s face instantly went white. “Absurd! My depression is your fault! How dare you question me? You just want to twist things so you don’t have to do what your mother says!” I leaned in, my gaze intense and challenging. “Mom, is this genuinely about my well-being?” “Or is it just a performance, using the guise of illness to demand my absolute and unconditional obedience?” The crowd went silent. On the streaming platform, comments demanding a psychological test for my mother started flooding the screen. Finally, under immense public pressure, she gritted out a single sentence. “Fine! I’ll do the test. I am depressed. I have nothing to hide!” An hour later, my mother and I emerged from the testing facility. The tension was palpable. Everyone waited for the doctor to speak. The doctor, a serious, professional man, scanned the room before speaking. “Based on the comprehensive assessment,” he began slowly, “we have confirmed a diagnostic report of Major Depressive Disorder…” The live stream comments paused for a collective second, then erupted into a torrent of abuse, cursing me for being a heartless daughter. Then, the doctor continued, his voice calm and precise: “…but the diagnosis belongs to Miss Cassidy Morgan.” “As for her mother, Mrs. Deborah Miller, her psychological indicators are perfectly normal.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389178”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After eight years of pursuing Liam Sterling, the paraplegic “Monk,” he finally showed 1% affection for me and took me to a concert. But the star of the concert looked just like his first love. Disheartened, I was about to leave when terrorists attacked. The “paraplegic” Monk suddenly stood up from his wheelchair, pushed me aside, and rushed onto the stage to take a bullet for the star. Because of his push, I got shot too. The system declared my mission failed. At that moment, I activated the “No Love, No Desire” system. Once activated, I would lose all emotions and desires, loving no one. Chapter 1 Chaos erupted at the concert. On stage, Liam Sterling held Chloe tightly. Panic was written all over his face. He ignored the bullet wound in his own arm, his eyes fixed only on Chloe. “Are you okay? Don’t scare me.” “Please, don’t die.” It was the first time I’d seen Liam so flustered. After all, he was known as the aloof “Monk,” never moved by worldly matters. Only now did I realize he had lied to me for eight years. He was never paralyzed; he just pretended to be for eight years. I lay on the ground, watching my own blood pool around me. My heart hurt so much. [Host, your mission failed because you are dying.] The System’s voice rang in my ears. I remembered I had been pursuing Liam for eight years. Today, I was happy because his affection for me had finally ticked up to 1%. But now I understood. He just wanted to see Chloe. The woman who looked like his first love. [The exit channel is being constructed. Estimated time: three days. Host, you can leave in three days.] As the System spoke, I saw Liam pick Chloe up. His eyes were red, shouting for a doctor. “Doctor! Where’s a doctor?! Save her!” His eyes were full of this stranger, with no room for me. How laughable. I followed him for eight years and never earned his love. “System, I agree to leave. But before that, please activate the ‘No Love, No Desire’ system.” My voice choked, tears falling. The “No Love, No Desire” system was a reward I got from a previous mission, never used. The System was surprised: [Host, with only three days left, you still want to activate this system?] “Yes.” I answered without hesitation, staring at Liam. He had already left with Chloe in his arms, forgetting I even existed. My heart died completely in that moment. [Okay, Host. ‘No Love, No Desire’ system activated. You will gradually lose all emotions and desires, loving no one.] I closed my eyes, letting one last tear fall. Liam Sterling, this is the eighth year I’ve loved you. Today, I finally give up on you. Someone once said, you can never wake a person who is pretending to be asleep. Just like how I pursued Liam for eight years, yet never moved his heart. Chapter 2 When I was rushed to the hospital, voices buzzed around me. “Liam Sterling actually carried a woman into the hospital.” “Didn’t he declare himself a ‘Monk,’ never touching women?” “That woman looks familiar. She looks like Liam’s first love.” “Years ago, Liam turned to Buddhism because his first love died. Now that someone so similar appeared, of course he panicked.” Lying on the gurney, I felt cold all over. When I first came to this world, Liam’s first love had just died, and he had just become reclusive. The System said he was hard to conquer, but I didn’t believe it. I believed that as long as he was human, he had emotions and could be moved. Now I knew how wrong I was. After being wheeled into the operating room, the System told me: [Host, the bullet hit your abdomen. You wouldn’t have survived, but since the exit channel isn’t ready, I’m keeping you alive.] [By the way, you were pregnant. The fetus was hit by the bullet. Medically, it can’t survive. I can’t revive it.] I froze. “What?” “I was pregnant?” [Yes. Didn’t you know?] Of course I didn’t know. Liam and I rarely had physical intimacy. The only time was on the anniversary of his first love’s death, when he got drunk. He mistook me for her. I thought just once wouldn’t result in pregnancy. [Host, your child is dead.] [For the next three days, I wish you a good life.] Tears fell like hot pearls. Liam was the only target I ever loved. I really wanted to have a child with him. But now, the child was gone. I would never forget the moment terrorists entered the concert, and Liam pushed me away hard. He rushed to Chloe without hesitation, shielding her, taking a bullet for her. Eight years, and I never made it into his heart. When I woke up again, I was in a hospital room. Liam was lying in the bed next to mine. He was looking at me, slightly dazed. “Are… are you okay?” I looked at the thick gauze on my abdomen and chuckled lightly. “What do you think?” “I’m sorry.” “The situation was critical. I just wanted to save Chloe. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “By the way, about my legs… I lied to my family about being paralyzed because I didn’t want them setting me up on blind dates.” His tone was polite, as always. Eight years by his side, and we were still strangers. “You don’t need to explain.” In the future, we have nothing to do with each other. I couldn’t bring myself to say that sentence. After all, I had loved Liam deeply. “Don’t worry. I’ll hire the best doctors for you.” He spoke again. Once, I craved his concern. Now, his concern only disgusted me. “No need.” I replied coldly, turning my back to him. Chapter 3 The System alerted me: [Host, Liam’s affection value for you has risen to 10%.] I was startled. How is that possible? I did nothing. Why did his affection suddenly rise? [Host, I can give you a chance if you want to continue the mission.] “No need.” I refused immediately. Eight years of chasing, I was tired. I never wanted to do it again. Thinking of this, I felt my love for Liam fading bit by bit. I knew my emotions were disappearing. The doctor suddenly came in to update me on my condition. “You were shot in the abdomen. The fetus was hit too, so we couldn’t save it.” “What?” Liam spoke first. The always steady, aloof Monk had disbelief in his eyes. “She was pregnant?” “Yes, Mr. Sterling. We tried our best, but we really did all we could.” I touched my abdomen. There used to be a little life there. Now it was gone. After the doctor left, Liam got out of bed and held my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” Maybe I was seeing things, but there seemed to be a trace of heartache in his eyes. But how could he ache for me? He never gave me a kind look. Back then, I took care of him daily, massaged his legs. He never said a word to me, only smashed things and told me to get out. Once, for his birthday, I made him a cake. He threw it in the trash without hesitation. He said, “Stop making useless efforts. I won’t love you.” Then he would go to his study, look at his first love’s portrait, and touch her collarbone. Muttering how much he loved her. Even later, when his family urged him to marry me, he refused. Now I’ve accepted it. I disturbed his life. I should exit. Chapter 4 Chloe pushed the door open. Carrying a fruit basket, she smiled when she saw Liam. “You’re really here.” “Mr. Sterling, thank you for saving me.” She walked over, put down the basket, and took out a string of black prayer beads. “Oh, you dropped this when you saved me.” Liam took it with a gentle expression and asked, “Are you okay?” My heart felt stabbed. My existence felt laughable. Once, I accidentally touched those black beads, and he kicked me out of the house. He told me coldly, “That’s not for you to touch. Know your place.” Yes, I understand now. I should know my place. To him, I was just an irrelevant stranger. Chloe went to wash strawberries for Liam. He ate them. But he never liked strawberries. Just because his first love died on the way to pick strawberries. I lay in bed, breathing hurt. Soon, I would lose all emotions and never feel sad again. “Mr. Sterling, who is this?” Chloe suddenly looked at me. Liam froze, looking at me with complicated eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “She’s my assistant.” Assistant. I gripped the bedsheet. Taking care of his food, clothing, and life for eight years like a nanny. Indeed, assistant work. I didn’t refute him, just lay there.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389194”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my parents’ divorce, my younger brother chose to live with Dad, who got all the assets. I was left with my destitute Mom. Who knew Dad would suddenly go bankrupt and end up in prison, while Mom started a company and made a fortune? Consumed by jealousy and hatred, my brother pushed me off a high-rise building, killing me instantly. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the divorce. This time, my brother grabbed Mom’s hand and declared, “I love Mommy the most. I want to live with her.” I cheered internally. Perfect. I never wanted to relive that hellish life anyway! Chapter 1 My parents slapped the divorce papers on the table. My brother, Tyler, immediately rushed over and hugged Mom’s arm. “I love Mommy the most. I want to live with her.” Dad frowned, looking at Tyler with concern. “Ty-Ty, listen to me. Mom doesn’t have any money. You won’t have a good life with her. Stay with me, let Excess go with your Mom.” Mom nodded. “Excess is tough. She can handle it. Let her come with me, and Ty-Ty can stay with his Dad.” “Excess” was their nickname for me. My real name is Emily, but to them, I was just the extra one. They had me when they were barely out of high school, way too young. They dumped me on my grandma in the countryside and didn’t take me back until I was eight. So, they had zero affection for me and didn’t care about my opinion. But since Tyler knew that Dad ended up in prison in our past life, there was no way he’d choose to suffer with him. Sure enough, he pressed his lips together and shook his head firmly. Dad wouldn’t give up. “Ty-Ty, listen to Dad. Dad has money. Dad can give you a good life. You’ll suffer with Mom.” But Tyler turned his head, clutching Mom’s arm with unusual determination. “No! Rich or poor, I want to be with Mommy. I love Mommy.” “Mommy’s good boy.” Mom looked touched. Dad sighed helplessly. “If you’ve made up your mind, Dad respects your decision. But if you have any problems, Ty-Ty, you tell Dad immediately.” Tyler nodded, hiding the excitement in his eyes. He glanced at me and gave a malicious smile. “Sister must be happy. You get to live the good life with Dad now!” I nodded blankly, but inside, I was popping champagne. Perfect. I never have to experience that living hell with Mom again. Tyler had no idea what dark secrets lay behind Mom’s “successful company.” That road wasn’t easy. I looked at Tyler with complicated eyes. “You made your choice. Don’t regret it.” “Hmph, how could I regret being with Mom? You just make sure you don’t come crying to me later!” With that, he held Mom’s hand and walked out without looking back. Watching their retreating figures, I couldn’t help but recall the misery of my past life. Mom didn’t know how to do chores and refused to work low-paying jobs. Living with her, I had to do all the housework and even collect cans at night to buy groceries for the next day. Less than a year into high school, Mom forced me to drop out because she couldn’t afford tuition. Later, I washed dishes and waited tables to save up for tuition myself, but Mom got addicted to gambling. We had to move constantly to hide from debt collectors… “Emily, I’m warning you. I’m living at your Auntie Evelyn’s house now. She’s a public figure. When we go in, lose that trashy look!” Dad’s impatient voice pulled me back to reality. Seeing the disgust in his eyes, I really wanted to ask: if you hate me so much, why did you have me? At home, I was like a little maid—insecure, sensitive, shrinking. Tyler was the treasured prince—lively and confident. Compared to him, of course I looked “trashy.” “Also, I’ve fired all the servants at your Auntie’s house. You’ll do all the chores. You like doing them anyway,” Dad said matter-of-factly. A trace of mockery flashed in my eyes. So Tyler is the young master who shouldn’t lift a finger, and I’m the born servant? Whatever. I never expected any love from them anyway. Soon, the car pulled into a mansion halfway up the hill within a gated community in Beverly Hills. Looking at the beautiful gardens along the way, I could barely blink. But seeing Dad’s fawning smile at the elegant woman at the door, I vaguely understood who really wore the pants in this house. Chapter 2 Auntie Evelyn turned out to be Evelyn Lawrence, the movie star I always saw on TV. Seeing a screen idol in person, I was nervous, but she showed unexpected kindness. As she led me inside, Auntie Evelyn patted my hand gently. “Don’t be nervous. This is your home now.” Seeing the sincerity in her eyes, my eyes felt hot. “Thank you.” Auntie Evelyn was truly a good person. She couldn’t have children due to an injury on set, so she sponsored many children in foster care. After I arrived, she didn’t make me do any chores. She gave me a large, sunny room and bought me lots of comfortable new clothes. Knowing I went to the worst public school, she transferred me to a prestigious private girls’ high school. The facilities and environment were superior, and the students were much more refined. I was overwhelmed with gratitude and swore to study hard so I wouldn’t let Auntie Evelyn down. I studied desperately at school and burned the midnight oil at home. My only entertainment was mimicking Auntie Evelyn’s acting. “A chicken can’t become a phoenix. You’re not as smart as Tyler. Why bother? Just drop out and get married. You’ll be even more worthless when you’re older.” Dad always mocked my efforts. I ignored him and charged forward blindly. Finally, after a semester of hard work, my name appeared on the top of the Honor Roll. I even won a city-wide award for a drama performance. When my homeroom teacher called to invite Dad to share his parenting tips, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Actually, I always had good grades when I was little, always top three. But after I was brought back at eight, my parents forced me to do all the chores. Cooking, dishes, laundry until midnight—how could I study? But now it was different. Auntie Evelyn’s support was my backbone! As I brought home more awards, Dad’s gaze softened. Once, Auntie Evelyn came to a parent-teacher conference, causing a sensation. Her industry friends and reporters praised me, saying I was as driven as she was in her youth, and that I had a bright future. Auntie Evelyn smiled and accepted it all. “The child is excellent on her own. I did very little.” Influenced by Auntie Evelyn, I took the art exams in my senior year and secured the top score in the city. Auntie Evelyn suggested I apply to the film academy in LA, saying she had connections. But Dad furiously vetoed it. “Film school costs a fortune! Does a village girl deserve that? No!” I knew Dad refused because he always looked down on me. And because Tyler’s grades were terrible now, he didn’t want me to outshine him too much. Chapter 3 Seeing my biological father’s firm opposition, Auntie Evelyn had to give up. She patted my head. “Academic route is fine too. Emily wants to study law, right? Stanford has one of the best law schools.” She had realized that Dad didn’t care about me, his daughter. He even held a strange malice toward me. But she was a dignified woman. Plus, Dad had saved her from a falling prop on set once. She treated Dad as her savior and rarely refused him. That’s why in my past life, she funded Dad’s company, making me think he was rich. As for Mom, Dad had been dissatisfied with her since meeting Auntie Evelyn. Mom was lazy and playful, so he encouraged her gambling addiction, then used it as grounds for divorce. I looked at the concerned Auntie Evelyn and thought it was okay. Film school would have been great with her resources, but it might take me away. I couldn’t bear to leave Auntie Evelyn. And I kept thinking about how she and Dad went bankrupt and to jail in my past life. Studying law might help. So the film school idea was dropped, and I focused on my academics. I knew Mom was lazy. Tyler wouldn’t last long with her. But I didn’t expect him to come back so soon, and in such a despicable way. One afternoon, Auntie Evelyn and I returned from lunch to find Tyler curled up at the gate, covered in bruises. Seeing us, he knelt and cried, tears streaming down his face. He said Mom had no money, they lived in the slums, and he got bullied by thugs on his way home from school. “Dad, please save me! If you don’t take me in, I’m dead.” “You’re Auntie Evelyn, right? Please have mercy. They said they’d kill me tonight. I can’t go back.” Dad was heartbroken. He helped him up, calling him “My precious Ty-Ty,” promising to call the police. Tyler hurriedly explained it was too dark to see their faces, begging Dad to just let him stay for a while. Auntie Evelyn frowned silently. I knew she saw through Tyler’s lies. She was an Oscar winner. Tyler’s acting and fake bruises were a joke to her. But Dad was adamant about keeping him, his tone leaving no room for argument. She reluctantly agreed. The night Tyler moved in, Dad stormed into my room, took all the electronics and expensive gifts Auntie Evelyn gave me, and gave them to Tyler. “Ty-Ty, that waste of space Emily doesn’t deserve these. They’re yours now.” He transferred Tyler to my private school and hired tutors for him. But I knew Tyler was swindling money from teachers and classmates. Living with Mom, he had learned to gamble, and he was addicted. Once, I saw Tyler going into a casino with some shady guys. He was not only fearless but pushed me away viciously. “Tell anyone and I’ll skin you alive!” I frowned. “You’re ruining yourself.” Tyler sneered. “None of your business. What right does a village maid have to lecture me?” “Good dogs don’t block the way. Get lost!” Actually, I didn’t want to manage him. I knew his addiction would grow until he caused a disaster. When that happened, Auntie Evelyn wouldn’t tolerate him. Tyler went to the casino more frequently, needing more money. He used every trick to get money from Dad, eventually even taking out online loans in Auntie Evelyn’s name. I couldn’t sit back anymore. One night, I blocked Tyler at his door, asking if he took out loans. Tyler turned the tables, throwing a loan agreement he took from my room in my face. “You borrowed money and blamed me? Emily, you’re worse than a pig!” Dad glanced at the paper and joined in. “You little slut, borrowing so much money! Fifty thousand! Come to the police station and turn yourself in!” I saw at a glance the agreement was fake; it didn’t even have a stamp. But Dad and Tyler wouldn’t listen, dragging me toward the door. Chapter 4 Just then, Auntie Evelyn came upstairs. “What is going on here?” “Auntie, Tyler gambled and took out loans behind your back. I confronted him, and he framed me.” I broke free and told the truth. Frowning at the self-righteous Tyler, Auntie Evelyn looked at Dad with dissatisfaction. “Joe, I have to say this. Both are your children. Why do you spoil Tyler and abuse Emily? Gambling and loans? Tyler has no future like this.” Dad jumped up. “That loser is lying! I’m her dad, I know! She did it! My Ty-Ty is a good boy!” “Besides, I’m their father. I decide how to treat them!” Auntie Evelyn got angry. “What does that mean? I can’t say a word in my own house?” Tyler forced his way in and stole my things. She was already unhappy. Dad’s words added fuel to the fire. “Joe Zhou, you live off me, and now you bring this lying ingrate into my house! Do you know what Tyler has been doing?” “I’ll tell you. He’s been scamming people and gambling. Debt collectors are calling my phone!” Tyler’s face froze. Exposed, he stopped pretending. “You’re rich anyway. What’s wrong with giving me some?” Dad’s face stiffened, then he agreed matter-of-factly. “Yeah, Ty-Ty is practically your son. What’s a little money?” Auntie Evelyn sneered. “I wouldn’t dare claim such an ingrate as a son.” I couldn’t stand their shamelessness anymore. “Are you crazy? Gambling and scamming are crimes! Why should Auntie Evelyn pay for Tyler’s mess?” Slap! Dad slapped me hard. “None of your business! You ungrateful brat, I should have drowned you in a bucket when you were born!” I covered my face, staring at him in disbelief. The skin bruised instantly. The burning pain and grievance forced tears from my eyes. Auntie Evelyn looked at my face with heartache, then turned and roared at Dad. “Are you insane? Taking it out on the child!” “I’m telling you, Tyler scammed forty thousand and borrowed fifty thousand in loans. It’s almost a hundred thousand. That’s a felony. Wait for him to go to jail!” Hearing this, Dad trembled in fear. He looked at Tyler in disbelief. “Ty-Ty, did you really borrow that much?” But Tyler, thinking there was no proof, kept arguing. “Impossible! Besides, it’s just a hundred grand. She can pay it. Why make a fuss?” Auntie Evelyn trembled with rage. “Why should I pay?” “Get out! Joe, take him and get out!” She called the butler to throw their luggage out. Seeing she was serious, Dad and Tyler were dumbfounded. “You barren old hag! I hope you die tomorrow so I get your inheritance!” Tyler cursed viciously. Dad panicked and covered his mouth, looking at Auntie Evelyn fawningly. “Evie, Ty-Ty is just a kid. Don’t hold it against him. You have the money. Just pay it. Why be so stingy?” Auntie Evelyn was thoroughly disappointed. She hugged me and pointed at the door. “Get out! I never want to see you again!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389210”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 After an eight-year relationship, I was pregnant and getting married. At the altar, the officiant asked if I would take Leo Miller as my husband. Just as I was about to say yes, a tiny, childlike voice echoed in my mind. 【Mommy, don’t say yes! My daddy isn’t Leo Miller!】 【Your sister is the one carrying Leo’s baby!】 The two sentences completely short-circuited my brain. The entire wedding party was waiting for my answer, but I was frozen. If the baby in my belly wasn’t Leo’s, then whose was it? The next moment, the little voice continued. 【Silly Mommy, that cheater has been sleeping with your sister for ages! If you marry him, he’s going to lock you in the basement!】 【Quick, call for my real dad’s help! He’s the richest, most handsome man in the audience!】 I was stunned. My eyes involuntarily darted to a man in the front row—the notoriously aloof and untouchable titan of high society, Julian Astor. … Even though it was my wedding, everyone’s attention seemed to gravitate toward him. The man’s presence was magnetic, his looks and aura utterly captivating. I glanced at him, and my gaze met his icy stare. I quickly looked away, my heart pounding. “Sweetie, do you even know who that is?” I thought desperately. “He’s the CEO of the Astor Corporation, the biggest conglomerate in the country. He’s never been seen with a woman. How could you possibly be his child?” “I know Leo isn’t rich, but you can’t just make things up and disown your own father! Honey, you need to face reality.” “It’s a little late to be picking a new dad. Try again in your next life.” I tried to soothe the little voice, assuming he was just being a snob about Leo’s finances. But I never expected him to shout back. 【Have you forgotten that time you woke up in a hotel room?】 【Your fiancé and your sister tricked you, intending to sell you to a client. But you stumbled into the wrong room…】 【The man lying next to you that morning was Julian Astor!】 My jaw dropped. “He’s Julian Astor? I thought it was Leo…” The memories came rushing back like a tidal wave: a dark room, a back covered in red marks, limbs tangled together. Leo was still looking at me with a gentle expression, but all I could see was Julian’s sweat-slicked body, hear his strained, controlled breaths. My hands pinned above my head as he took what he wanted. The famously self-disciplined tycoon was an absolute animal behind closed doors. The officiant, seeing my hesitation, repeated the question. “Ms. Hayes, do you take Mr. Miller to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Leo squeezed my hand, his face etched with concern. “What’s wrong, Chloe? Are you having second thoughts?” He gently stroked my palm. “Don’t be scared. Once you’re part of my family, I’ll give you everything. I’ll cherish you.” 【Don’t believe a word he says! He bought a villa right next to your new house, a place for him, your sister, and their baby!】 The voice jolted me back to reality. “I don’t!” I shouted. A gasp rippled through the crowd. The Millers were a prominent family in the city of Silver Creek. For me to publicly reject Leo was something no one had anticipated. After all, I had chased him relentlessly for years, shamelessly playing the part of the devoted puppy. Everyone said Chloe Hayes was a wild, shameless flirt. Now that I finally had him, I was throwing it all away. Leo’s face turned ugly. He never imagined I would refuse him at the altar. “Chloe, stop playing around. This is our wedding! If you have a problem with me, we can talk about it later…” 【Later will be too late! My real dad is about to fly overseas to chase after his old flame!】 【Mom, time is running out! Ditch this scumbag and get my handsome, rich daddy back!】 “I’m not marrying him!” I said, my voice firm. My own son wouldn’t lie to me. If he said Leo was a cheater, then I couldn’t marry him. Just then, my sister, Sarah, walked onto the stage, her hand resting on her swollen belly. She stood beside Leo. “Chloe, what’s all this about? Leo agreed to marry you, didn’t he?” As she got closer, I noticed the diamond ring on her finger. It was the exact same style as my wedding ring. But comparing the two, mine looked like cheap plastic. In that instant, everything clicked into place. The baby in my womb was just a pawn in her and Leo’s scheme. As an adopted daughter, she could never marry into the Miller family. I was just a tool, a means for her to secure that alliance. My parents stood up, their voices filled with fury. “Chloe! Haven’t you embarrassed our family enough? You think you can just call off a wedding like this?” “You’re the one who begged to marry Leo, and now you’re backing out at the last minute! Do you think marriage is a game? Why can’t you be more sensible, like your sister?” “You are getting married today, whether you like it or not!” 2 The wedding had devolved into a farce. Guests whispered among themselves, eagerly awaiting the next chapter of my humiliation. “That Hayes girl is nothing but trouble. First, she shamelessly chases after the Miller heir, and now that she’s got him, she wants to call it off. The whole town is just waiting to see her get thrown out of her own family.” “Her adopted sister is so much better. She’s refined, well-mannered, married some rich kid. She knows her place.” “The Hayes family is so unlucky to have a daughter like that.” The whispers reached my ears, and I realized my reputation in Silver Creek had hit rock bottom. But I used to be the well-bred, respected daughter of the Hayes family. It seemed that ever since Sarah had been adopted, my status had plummeted. My parents’ and Leo’s attitudes toward me had slowly changed. Leo grabbed my hand, ignoring my protests as he addressed the guests. “Chloe is just a little overwhelmed. Please forgive her. She agrees to marry me, and I am willing to take her as my wife.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sarah clench her fists. I took a deep breath and yanked my hand away from Leo. “I said no, and I mean it! I know about you and my sister! The baby in her belly is yours, isn’t it, Leo?” My words exploded like a bomb in the banquet hall. 【Way to go, Mom! Expose those two-faced liars!】 【Your sister has been spreading rumors about you for years! She’s the reason your reputation is in the gutter!】 The little voice in my belly cheered, egging on the chaos. “What are you talking about?!” Sarah clutched her mouth, feigning innocence. “Chloe, I can handle you bullying me in private, but why would you say something so horrible in front of everyone?” “How could you use my baby as an excuse to run away from your own wedding?” Her words seemed to steady Leo. His guilt-ridden expression hardened into one of righteous indignation. “Chloe, that’s enough! Even if you don’t want to get married, you have no right to slander me and your sister!” My parents looked at me with utter disappointment and rage. “Are you out of your mind?! Humiliating your sister and your fiancé in public? Why did we ever have a daughter like you?” “Do you have any idea what a laughingstock you’ve made of us?” The guests were practically howling with laughter. “This is better than a movie! The eldest Hayes daughter, accusing her own fiancé and sister of an affair at her wedding! She really is shameless!” I tore off my veil and threw it to the ground, turning to leave. But several large men blocked the exit. While I was distracted, Leo seized my wrist, intending to drag me through the rest of the ceremony. His voice was a low hiss, his usually gentle face contorted with rage. “Once you’re a Miller, you won’t have the luxury of being so impulsive!” The eyes of the crowd were filled with mockery and amusement. No one cared what I wanted. For the first time, a cold wave of clarity washed over me. I finally understood how dire my situation was. I was nothing but a pawn to my fiancé and my adopted sister. The voice in my belly screamed in panic. 【Once this ceremony is over, your husband is going to find an excuse to lock you in the basement!】 【There are black cars waiting outside! The moment you step out of this hall, they’re going to grab you!】 【Mom, ask my real dad for help! Now!】 Julian Astor? I looked to where he had been sitting, but he was already on his feet, heading for the exit with his assistant. 【Oh no, Dad is leaving to catch his flight! He’s going to find his old flame!】 This might be my last chance. In a moment of desperation, I bit down hard on the fleshy part of Leo’s hand. He cried out in pain and loosened his grip. I spun around and bolted, throwing myself in Julian’s direction. Bodyguards moved to intercept me, but I shoved a table over, sending a tower of wine glasses crashing to the floor. The crowd shrieked as I tore through the chaos, the long train of my dress trailing behind me. I didn’t care. I ran straight for Julian. His assistant was caught off guard. Julian heard the commotion and turned just as I slammed into his chest. “Take me with you,” I begged. “Please!” His face was obscured by the light, but the next thing I knew, I was being shoved to the ground. He brushed off his suit as if I were something filthy, his eyes filled with disgust. “Get lost. Don’t you know I don’t touch women?” 【He’s bluffing! Don’t believe him! He’s just putting on an act now. Once he falls for you, he’ll turn into a clingy little puppy!】 Julian turned to leave again, but I grabbed the hem of his pants, refusing to let go. Footsteps pounded behind me. Leo and his bodyguards caught up, restraining me. My parents looked on in terror at the thunderous expression on Julian’s face. “We are so sorry, Mr. Astor! Our daughter isn’t well. We will come to your home personally to apologize for this offense!” Leo chimed in, his voice groveling. “Mr. Astor, it’s my fault. I should have kept a better eye on her. I’ll make sure she’s properly disciplined. Please, forgive us!” Sarah just stared at Julian with a look of pure adoration, the same look every woman in Silver Creek seemed to have for him. Julian didn’t answer. He just looked down at my hand clutching his pant leg. Sarah followed his gaze, then lifted her stiletto and brought it down hard on the back of my hand. “Chloe, how dare you accost Mr. Astor! Let go!” I cried out in pain. Julian took the opportunity to pull his leg free and strode away without a backward glance. As his figure was about to disappear, I screamed in desperation, “Julian Astor, the baby I’m carrying is yours!” 3 Julian froze. A strange, unnerving silence fell over the room. The guests all turned to stare at me, their expressions shifting from mockery to a kind of pitying disbelief, as if I were a complete lunatic. Sarah, clearly delighted that I was now dragging Julian into this mess, leaned in and whispered, “Trying to climb the social ladder, are we, Chloe? I think you picked the wrong branch.” “Julian Astor is not a man you can just latch onto.” She was right. Everyone knew Julian Astor was a virtual monk, repulsed by contact with women. The string of prayer beads he always carried was proof of his celibacy. The last woman who tried to get close to him with ulterior motives ended up with broken bones and a tombstone for a future. “Is this woman suicidal? I thought she was just trashy, but it turns out she’s insane. No one who crosses Mr. Astor ends up well…” The crowd held its breath, waiting for Julian to explode. As expected, he turned, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line, his face a mask of cold fury. His gaze was like that of an executioner as he stared at me, his fingers working the prayer beads. “My child? Heh. You’ve got some nerve, Ms. Hayes.” “No one in this city has ever been bold enough to show up pregnant and claim the child is mine. I’ve heard about your reputation. Have you really sunk so low as to claim another man as your baby’s father at your own wedding?” The clicking of the beads echoed in the silent hall, a sound that struck fear into everyone’s hearts. It was the sound of Julian’s impending wrath. Leo immediately pushed my head to the floor, forcing me to bow as he pleaded with Julian. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Astor! She’s really not in her right mind! Please, just forgive her this once!” “Apologize to Mr. Astor! Now!” Seeing that Leo didn’t seem to care at all that I had just announced the child wasn’t his, I knew he was well aware of the truth. He just wanted to control me, to have a convenient cover for his affair with Sarah. 【Don’t be scared, Mom! If you can prove the baby is Dad’s, he won’t abandon you!】 【Once you have the Astor family backing you, all these people who bullied you will get what’s coming to them!】 Proof? I let out a bitter laugh. What proof did I have? I didn’t even know the man. My parents rushed forward and slapped me twice, hard. “Apologize to Mr. Astor! Are you trying to get our entire family killed?” my mother shrieked. Julian looked down at me from his lofty height. I was a pathetic mess, like a worm in the dirt. The memory of that passionate night felt like a distant, unreal dream. But then, I remembered something. I looked up at him, my voice surprisingly calm. “Mr. Astor, I saw the rose-colored birthmark.” His expression didn’t change, but his eyes widened in surprise. The birthmark was on his lower abdomen, a very private place. No one who wasn’t intimate with him could possibly know about it. The other guests just looked at each other, confused. But Sarah, ever the opportunist, chimed in. “Chloe, everyone has birthmarks. You can’t use something so trivial as proof of a relationship with Mr. Astor. Countless women have tried similar tricks over the years.” “If you really want to prove the baby is his, why not get a paternity test?” Sarah was smug. She didn’t believe for a second that there was anything between me and Julian. After all, how could a nobody from a minor family like the Hayeses ever get involved with the most powerful man in Silver Creek? Leo had pulled every string he had, spent a fortune, just to get Julian to even show up at the wedding. The crowd immediately agreed. “Yeah, a paternity test! That will shut her up!” “Who does she think she is, trying to claim a connection to Mr. Astor? And at her own wedding! What a shameless tramp!” “She wants to make a scene? Let’s give her a paternity test and expose her for the liar she is! Run her out of town!” Julian’s expression was unreadable, but after a moment, he nodded, giving me a chance. “Fine. A paternity test. At least you’ll know why you’re being destroyed.” 【You’re amazing, Mom! I can’t wait to see Dad eat his words! Hahaha!】 【Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to handle him. Once he falls in love with you, you’ll have a loyal little puppy on your hands!】 The wedding fiasco quickly became the talk of the town. Julian’s grandfather, the patriarch of the Astor family, heard the news and rushed to the scene. When he saw the private doctor drawing my blood, a look of pure joy spread across his face. “This is wonderful! I might get to hold my grandchild before I die.” Julian sneered. “Let’s hope she’s still in one piece when the results come back and expose her.” I closed my eyes, letting them draw my blood. My parents stood by, trembling with fear, terrified I would bring ruin upon the family. Leo’s face was a thundercloud. His fiancée was getting a paternity test for another man’s child at their own wedding. Even if that other man was Julian Astor, it was the ultimate humiliation. 【Good thing Mom didn’t marry this Miller guy. He was planning how to torture you after the wedding!】 【Oww, needles hurt! But I’ll endure it for Mommy’s happiness!】 I was bruised and battered, and the blood draw left me weak and dizzy. I leaned on the little voice’s encouragement as I waited for the results. The guests stared at me with hungry, predatory eyes, all of them eagerly anticipating my downfall. No one believed that the celibate Julian Astor could have a child. I was starting to realize that if the baby wasn’t his, my life was over. Finally, there were hurried footsteps outside. Julian’s assistant rushed in, clutching a report, and whispered something in Julian’s ear. Julian’s cold, indifferent expression was replaced by one of utter shock. His grandfather, growing impatient, tapped his cane on the floor. “Stop whispering! Is it my great-grandchild or not? Just say it!” Sarah giggled, covering her mouth. “Is there even a question? Of course it’s not a Astor. It’s all just my sister’s lies…” The assistant wiped the sweat from his brow and announced, “The probability of paternity between Ms. Hayes’ child and Mr. Astor is 99.99%!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389226”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“You owe the family $85,000.” Mom dropped an Excel spreadsheet into the family group chat. The header read: Family Financial Accountability Ledger. Underneath were three damning rows: Sister (Danielle): Balance +28,000; Brother(Kyle):Balance +5,000; Me (Cassandra): Debt -$85,000. The group chat immediately blew up. “Time to pay up, Cassie.” My sister, Danielle, sent a smirking emoji. “Mom kept perfect track of everything,” Kyle chimed in. I stared at the number, a hollow laugh bubbling up. Eighty-five thousand dollars. Had she ever bothered to track how much I’d sent home since I graduated high school? 1. I handed my phone to my husband, Jack. “Take a look.” He took it, his expression changing slowly, turning from curious to cold. “What in God’s name is this?” “My mother’s ledger,” I said, taking a slow drink of water. “She says I owe the family eighty-five thousand dollars.” “Eighty-five thousand?” His voice rose an octave. “Based on what?” I tapped the spreadsheet and zoomed in. The itemized list was stark: [CASSIE RHODES: COST OF UPBRINGING] – Tuition (K-College): $11,000 – Living Expenses (18 years): $28,000 – Clothes, Shoes, Allowance: $7,000 – College Dorm/Fees: $2,000 – Wedding Subsidy: $1,500 – Other Expenses: $13,500 – Subtotal: $60,000 – Interest (5% annual rate, 18 years): $25,000 – TOTALDUE $85,000. Jack’s eyes were glued to the last line: “Interest? She charged you interest?” “That’s right,” I nodded. “Mom says if she’d invested that money instead of raising me, she’d have earned that much. Since I ‘consumed’ the capital, I have to cover the lost earnings.” “And Dani? Your sister?” I scrolled to my sister’s column. [DANIELLE RHODES: COST OF UPBRINGING] – Tuition: $10,000 – Living Expenses: $24,000 – Clothes/Shoes: $9,000 – Other: $6,000 – Subtotal: $49,000 – Wedding Gift to Parents: $18,000 – Regular Gifts/Support: $59,000 – Balance: $28,000. Jack was speechless. I scrolled down to my brother’s section. [KYLE RHODES: COST OF UPBRINGING] Tuition: $14,000 Living Expenses: $34,000 Other: $20,000 Subtotal: $68,000 Wedding Gift to Parents: $22,000 Regular Gifts/Support: $51,000 Balance: $5,000. “Wait a minute,” Jack frowned. “Kyle’s wedding. Didn’t your parents give him a sixty-thousand-dollar down payment for their house? Why isn’t that listed?” “It’s not.” “And Dani’s wedding? Didn’t your mom hand her a thirty-thousand-dollar check?” “Not listed either.” “And yours?” I gave a short, bitter laugh. “My wedding. Mom gave me a check for fifteen hundred dollars. The ledger lists it as ‘Wedding Subsidy -$1,500’.” Jack’s jaw tightened. “How can she do this? She gives Dani thirty thousand and Kyle sixty thousand, but your gift is a negative number?” “Because that fifteen hundred came out of the money I’d previously given her.” “What does that even mean?” “The first year I worked, I sent her five hundred a month. Six thousand dollars. Mom said the fifteen hundred she gave me for the wedding was deducted from that six thousand.” “What about the rest you sent?” “She said that was a ‘gift to show respect and love’—it doesn’t count as paying off the debt.” Jack slammed the phone onto the coffee table. “This is insane!” I remained silent. The group chat was still buzzing. Danielle: “@CassandraRhodes See? Mom is meticulous.” Kyle: “You’re the one who’s in the red, sis.” Mom (Sharon): “Cassie, raising you wasn’t easy. You’re established now. It’s time to settle up.” I stared at the messages, not replying to a single one. “What are you going to do?” Jack asked me. I opened my photo gallery and pulled up a screenshot. It was a record of my bank transfers to Mom over the years. – 2018: $1,200 – 2019: $3,000 – 2020: $4,500 – 2021: $4,000 – 2022: $6,500 – 2023: $5,500 – 2024: $9,500 Plus a few independent transfers: – Dad’s hospital bill: $3,500 – Kyle’s wedding gift: $2,500 – Dani’s baby shower gift: $1,000 – Holiday cash/gifts: roughly $700 a year. “How much is that in total?” Jack asked. “I calculated it,” I said. “Excluding the tiny things, it’s forty-one thousand dollars.” “And how much of that is on her ledger?” “Zero.” I saved the transfer records as a separate file. “She says my money was for ‘filial piety,’ not debt repayment. The money she spent on me is hers to reclaim. The money I sent her is also hers to keep.” Jack’s hands were shaking. “What’s the plan, Cass?” I watched the family chat. Another message popped up. Danielle: “@CassandraRhodes You’re not trying to stiff her, are you?” I slowly typed a line. “Dani, Mom gave you a $30,000 wedding gift. Why isn’t that on the ledger?” Send. Silence in the chat for ten seconds. Then Mom spoke: “That was a gift for your sister’s marriage. It’s separate from the ledger.” I typed another line. “And the $60,000 down payment for Kyle’s house? Why is that missing?” Silence for five seconds. Kyle jumped in: “That’s Mom and Dad’s personal money. It’s none of your business!” I smiled. “Perfect.” I set the phone down and looked at Jack. “She wants to keep score? We’ll keep score.” Jack nodded. “What do you need me to do?” “Help me dig up the records from our wedding. What they gave, what they took.” He immediately went to the file cabinet. I reopened my phone and started systematically taking screenshots of every single transfer record. I was ready to see exactly how this score would be settled. 2. It was nine PM when I finished compiling everything. Jack sat beside me, his face drawn and pale with anger. “You know what the worst part is?” he said. “What?” “The year we got married.” I knew exactly what he meant. When we got married, my parents asked for a $18,000 wedding cash gift from Jack’s family—a major ask for them, but they scraped it together. On the wedding day, Mom took the $18,000. “This money is yours,” she’d said. “But I’ll hold onto it for you. You can have it when you need it.” I thought, okay, I’ll trust her. The next year, Kyle needed a down payment for his condo. Mom called me. “Cassie, your $18,000. Your brother needs to borrow it.” “Mom, that’s my wedding money…” “Borrow! It’s a loan! He’s getting a house, it’s a big deal! Why are you so selfish?” I transferred the money. Kyle bought the condo, got married, and never mentioned repaying it. I brought it up once. Mom snapped, “Your brother just got married. He has no money to repay you! Besides, you’re married now. Are you really going to argue with your own brother over a loan?” I never asked again. Jack shuffled through the old receipts and documents, his voice thick with emotion. “Your wedding. What did your family contribute?” “You know the answer.” “I want to hear it again.” I sighed. “On the wedding day, Mom gave me that fifteen hundred dollar check. My ‘trousseau subsidy’.” “And that was it?” “That was it.” “What about the linens? The furniture? The appliances?” “We bought it all ourselves.” “And Dani’s wedding?” I pulled up an old photo on my phone. It was a picture my mom had posted on social media during Dani’s wedding. In the photo, Dani stood beaming amongst stacks of coordinated designer luggage, a complete furniture set, and a shiny new car parked outside. The caption: “Our oldest daughter is married! Sending her off with dignity!” I counted the items in my head. The ten-piece luggage set. The new appliance package. The $25,000 sedan. And the $30,000 check Mom gave her publicly. Jack stared at the picture, speechless. “You know how I felt?” I gave a wry smile. “Mom didn’t post my wedding photos.” “Why not?” “She said Dani’s was in the hometown, so all the relatives were there, and she needed the prestige. Mine was in the city, with a small group. She said, ‘No one you know will even see it.’” Jack put the phone face down on the table. “Your mother…” He swallowed, unable to find a word strong enough. I patted his hand. “It’s fine.” “How is it fine?” His voice trembled. “She gave Dani $30,000, Kyle $60,000, and gave you $1,500 after taking $18,000. And now she’s billing you $85,000?” I didn’t answer. My phone vibrated. A private message from Dani. “Cass, what you said in the group chat was out of line.” I opened the message. “How was it out of line?” “Mom and Dad’s gifts to me and Kyle—that’s their business. You can’t compare yourself to us.” “What can I compare myself to?” “Just admit you owe them! $85,000 isn’t the end of the world. You can pay it back slowly. A few grand a year, and you’ll be done in a decade.” “I owe them?” “How much did they spend on your education? On your living expenses? Do you have no conscience?” I smiled at the screen. “Dani, let me ask you. Did you pay back your education costs?” “I did! I send Mom and Dad money every year since I got married.” “Your payments are listed as ‘Balance.’ Mine are ‘Filial Piety.’ Why does my money not count as debt repayment?” Dani didn’t reply. I continued typing: “And the $30,000 Mom gave you? Why isn’t that deducted from your costs?” “That was a wedding gift! Every daughter deserves one!” “Did I get one?” Dani fell silent again. “Did I, Dani?” I sent the question again. “How much did Mom give me?” A minute later, Dani replied: “Your situation was different.” “How was it different?” “You were always the difficult one. You didn’t know how to talk to Mom and Dad, and you were never the favorite. You had a huge fight with Mom before your wedding. Of course, she didn’t want to give you a big send-off.” I stared at the words, my hands shaking slightly. “So, I was the black sheep, so I got no wedding gift. But I was the black sheep, and I still owe $85,000?” “That’s two different things!” “Dani, what exactly is ‘two different things’? Giving is one thing, and taking is another?” Dani stopped responding. Jack had read the conversation over my shoulder. “What does she mean, you were ‘the difficult one’?” I put the phone down. “Mom always told me that. Said I was quiet, didn’t read the room, wasn’t charming. Dani was great at flattery. Kyle was the boy. And I…” “You what?” “I was ‘like a guest in the house.’” I flashed back to childhood. Dani’s birthday got a catered party and a cake. Kyle’s birthday got Mom’s famous home-cooked feast. My birthday? Mom usually said, “Just share a cake with Dani this year. Save money.” Dani wore new dresses. I wore Dani’s hand-me-downs. Kyle got new brand-name sneakers. I wore whatever was cheapest. I once asked Mom why. She said, “Dani is pretty and needs to look good. Kyle is a boy. You? You can just wear anything. You don’t care anyway.” But I did care. I just couldn’t say it. If I did, Mom would say, “Look at you, always making a scene. Your sister and brother never complain about things like this. Why are you always so dramatic?” So, I stopped talking. Slowly, I became the “difficult one.” Slowly, I incurred an $85,000 debt. Jack took my hand. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” “Tell you what?” I smiled faintly. “That my mother played favorites? That I grew up feeling unloved? You’d just think I was complaining.” “I wouldn’t.” “But Mom would. She always told me other children had it so much worse, and I was spoiled and ungrateful for even mentioning it.” Jack was silent for a long time. “So, what happens now?” I looked at my phone screen. The family group chat was alive again. Mom: “Cassie, what are you doing? We’re family. Why are you bringing up gifts?” Danielle: “Exactly. The debt is separate from the gifts.” Kyle: “She’s just looking for an excuse not to pay, Mom.” I took a deep breath. “Jack, turn on the laptop.” “What are you going to do?” “They want to keep score,” I said. “Then let’s settle the score once and for all.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389243”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I went to pick up my wedding dress, only to find the new nurse, Daphne, trying one on too. The man kneeling on one knee to help her put on her shoes was Nathan, my boyfriend of seven years. He stood up and turned around. Our eyes met. There wasn’t a trace of panic on his face. Instead, Daphne smiled and asked me, “Dr. Hart, would you like to be my bridesmaid?” I shook my head. “Can’t. I’m in mourning.” “My fiancé just died. He’s not even cold yet.” 1 I pushed open the door and immediately saw Daphne, beaming with joy, wearing a puffy wedding gown. Her hand rested on the shoulder of the man kneeling before her, watching him carefully help her with her shoes. Even from the back, I recognized him. Nathan. My boyfriend of seven years. He was wearing the pink checkered shirt I had taken out of the closet and handed to him this morning. A few hours ago, I asked him if he had time. He hastily kissed my cheek, his tone full of apology. “Harper, can we do it another day? An emergency surgery got added to my schedule.” As a fellow doctor, I understood the demands of the job. I didn’t say anything, just urged him to get to the hospital. Now I see. The “emergency surgery” added to his schedule was Daphne, with her dimpled smile. She obviously saw me. Her lips curled up, her expression full of triumph. No one at the hospital knew about my relationship with Nathan. About two weeks ago, Daphne accidentally saw a photo in my gallery. During a break, she came over to chat. “I was wondering what kind of man could match Dr. Hart. No wonder.” She added, “If any man treated me half as well as Dr. Chen treats you, I’d die of happiness.” I changed the subject casually, but suspicion grew in my heart. I didn’t understand where she got the idea that he treated me well. A couple of days later, a joke from a nurse in our department made me realize something. “The new girl, Daphne, calls everyone ‘bro,’ but she only calls Nathan ‘Nathan.’ One word difference, think about it.” I blame myself for not looking into it sooner, leading to today’s awkward situation. “All done, let me see.” Nathan clapped his hands, stood up, and turned sideways. Our eyes met. He froze for a second, his thin lips pressing into a tight line. His expression remained calm, as if he had expected this day would come eventually. Daphne glanced at him, her smile unwavering, and reached out to link her arm with his. “What a coincidence, Dr. Hart.” Coincidence? I remembered she had asked me not long ago when I planned to get married. She even recommended this bridal shop. Because I saw the ring box in Nathan’s coat pocket, I secretly ordered a wedding dress, thinking I’d surprise him and tell him I was ready too. It turned out the person he wanted to marry wasn’t me. 2 My heart felt like it was being pierced by thousands of needles. I dug my nails into my palm to stop myself from crying on the spot. Daphne suddenly smiled and asked, “Dr. Hart, would you like to be my bridesmaid?” Before she finished, Nathan looked at me too, frowning slightly. Before I could speak, he said quietly, “Dr. Hart is so busy, where would she find the time? Stop teasing.” Hearing the hint of complaint in his tone, my heart spasmed again. From med school to residency, over seven years, we both became busier and busier. Dates for normal couples were always replaced by surgeries and emergencies. Six months ago, I got promoted. Nathan seemed to hold a grudge, working even harder than before, writing papers and performing high-difficulty surgeries without missing a beat. In med school, we were top competitors. I knew he hated losing. Last time his parents called to urge us to get married, he said he was too busy to get away. So when I saw the ring box in his jacket, I thought he was secretly planning something and felt touched for a long time. I ordered the dress myself, planning to surprise him on our seventh anniversary. Seeing I hadn’t spoken for a long time, Daphne asked again, “Dr. Hart?” I glanced at her. “Dr. Hart, we have a deal, okay? You be my bridesmaid, maybe some of my luck will rub off on you.” I shook my head. “Can’t. I’m in mourning.” Nathan smirked slightly, looking at me. He knew my parents were alive and well. I sneered. “My fiancé just died. He’s not even cold yet.” Nathan’s face darkened, his lips pressed tight. The shop assistant, who was happily carrying my wedding dress out, heard this and froze in her tracks, dumbfounded. 3 This might be the biggest crisis she had encountered in her career. The assistant looked at me hesitantly. “Would you like to try it on?” I shook my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nathan staring at the tulle peeking out of the bag. I remembered the year we graduated from med school. He pointed at a wedding dress in a window and asked me when I would marry him. “Tomorrow?” I teased him with a smile. The light in his eyes instantly shone like stars in a dark night, then quickly dimmed. “Harper, I don’t want you to suffer. I want to give you everything others have.” His parents both got cancer one after another. Treatment costs had left his family deep in debt. The burden on his shoulders was heavy. That wasn’t a suitable time to discuss marriage. Later, we interviewed at the hospital together. The Chief of Surgery asked him casually, “Young man, do you have a girlfriend?” He answered quickly, “No, I’m still single.” Standing next to him, I froze on the spot. But he explained later. “Dr. Zhao intends to cultivate new doctors. I just didn’t want him to worry that dating would distract me from work.” Although I felt uncomfortable, I didn’t say much more. He had his considerations and worries. I wanted to try to understand. Not going public at the beginning might have had a reason, but later it seemed unnecessary to go public. Every time I brought it up, he would smile and kiss my forehead. “Just send them invitations when we get married.” “If we go public now, a bunch of people will ask questions.” He was afraid of trouble, so I comforted myself that he just didn’t want people to pay too much attention to his private life. In the past, he helped me blow-dry my hair, ate fast food with me, and would always tell me when we parted ways at the intersection. “Wait a bit longer, I’m going to marry you soon.” Since he suddenly took back the salary card he let me keep over half a month ago, he hadn’t said it again. Now I know why he said he had a big matter to deal with. A big life event indeed. My fiancé was going to marry someone else, and I wasn’t even deemed necessary to be informed. 3 I carried the wedding dress out. When I reached the intersection, I looked back. Nathan didn’t chase after me. Our chat history stopped many days ago. I asked him what time he would be back, and he replied with two words: [Busy.] Clicking into his profile, his feed was just a line. I didn’t know when he blocked me. I called to cancel the restaurant reservation, threw the wedding dress in the car, and rushed back to work. The department director was a bit surprised to see me. “You stayed up for several nights to apply for a day off, and you’re back after half a day?” Perhaps seeing my face looked bad, he asked if something happened. Explaining a secret relationship and being cheated on was too troublesome, so I just said I didn’t sleep well. He excitedly pulled me aside. “Then let’s gossip.” The more you don’t want to hear a name, the more it comes up. The director whispered mysteriously, “Nathan hooked up with a little nurse from their department. People caught them several times, staying in the office for half a day. The nurse came out adjusting her clothes. Bold.” He looked me up and down, looking disappointed. “I was thinking of setting you two up before. Classmates and colleagues, knowing each other well. Nathan is confused.” I couldn’t smile. “Not really suitable, right?” The director added that Daphne said she wanted to marry a doctor as soon as she joined the hospital. Someone in the hospital even made a list to see which unlucky guy would be conquered. “You know how hard it is to get into our hospital, right? She got in right after graduation. Heard she has a good dad.” This reminded me of the nurses in the department mocking her every time she was mentioned. “Never heard of her working a night shift. Having a shareholder for a backer is incomparable.” I guess Nathan heard these words too. When I got home after work, all his things in the room were gone. A key was left on the table, with a note pressed under it. The handwriting that copied notes for me and wrote love letters to me was still neat. [Deep affection cannot defeat time. Consider it my debt to you.] Seven years of time, summarized in one stroke. I casually tapped redial on a string of missed calls. It connected quickly. “The exchange study you mentioned last time, I want to go.” The voice on the other end said okay repeatedly. I didn’t say anything else and hung up directly. I think Nathan’s recent active performance and urgency to marry Daphne were mostly for this matter. A few months ago, there were rumors that the hospital would cooperate with a high-end overseas research institute and send one person for exchange study. Returning meant doubling one’s value, not to mention the vacant Deputy Director position was reserved for this person. Looking down at Daphne’s official announcement on her feed, I felt much better. [Just right, describing today.] The picture showed two tightly clasped hands. I recognized the one with distinct knuckles. 4 A few days later, I saw wedding candy bags right after surgery. Daphne seemed to have been waiting for me for a long time, greeting me excitedly with a smug smile. “Dr. Hart, I’m personally delivering wedding candy to you. Will you do me the honor?” I changed out of my white coat and glanced at her. “There’s no one else here, what are you pretending for? Are we close?” Her smile froze on her face, and her eyes turned cold. “The one not loved is the extra one. Dr. Hart, I pity you. He never admitted your relationship, but he announced it immediately with me. Can’t you see the difference between loving and not loving?” I pulled out a chair and sat down, laughing. “Something so easily pried away, what’s there to pity? As for loving or not, you know best. I wish you two locked together for life.” Her face paled. “Before marriage, he can choose someone more suitable. If you were abandoned, think about where you fell short.” My smile deepened unconsciously. “Thanks for the advice. I won’t go to the wedding. We have no friendship, so I’ll save the gift money.” I raised my hand to signal her to leave instead of slapping her. I think I have good self-control. I guess they were eager to announce this relationship. Everyone in the hospital received invitations and candy. Otherwise, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Some people were angry on my behalf, so in the afternoon, another notice appeared on the hospital bulletin board. The candidate selected for overseas exchange study has been confirmed. My photo was prominently displayed. It was taken by Nathan in the past.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389259”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The company gala was in full swing when I threw up on the most important guest in the room. Colleagues scattered like roaches when the lights turn on, leaving my boss, Adrian, to step in and apologize for me. But the VIP didn’t get angry. Instead, he calmly dusted off his lapel and looked at Adrian. “She has zero tolerance for alcohol. Keep an eye on her.” Adrian’s jaw practically hit the floor. When the banquet finally ended, my coworkers swarmed me, buzzing with gossip. “That was Carter Sterling! How on earth do you know him?” Carter paused near the exit, turning to look at me. I averted my gaze and let out a dry, hollow laugh. “I don’t. We aren’t close.” After all, when we broke up three years ago, Carter Sterling had only one request: Never tell a soul we were ever together. 1 The noisy room went dead silent. A few seconds later, someone scoffed. “Yeah, right.” “Carter’s suit is worth six figures. If he wasn’t close to you, would he let that slide? And giving the boss instructions on how to handle you?” What instructions? I really had drunk too much. I hadn’t heard a word Carter said. I shook my head, repeating the line like a mantra. “We really aren’t close.” “He probably just let it go out of respect for our boss,” someone reasoned. Everyone knew Adrian Hale had connections everywhere. He ran in the same circles as Carter. “Really?” I met my colleague’s skeptical gaze with a blank stare. After a long staredown, she convinced herself. “Yeah, that makes sense.” “It has to be Adrian. Why would someone like Carter know a corporate drone like you?” “Besides, I heard Carter is getting engaged at the end of the month. Maybe he’s just in a good mood.” Hearing that, the crowd bought it. The only person who didn’t look convinced was Adrian. He leaned against the wall, swirling a glass of scotch, one eyebrow raised. His expression said: I’m just going to watch you lie through your teeth. 2 I calmly looked away. Technically, I wasn’t lying. We broke up three years ago. We were strangers now. Especially considering the brutal words he left me with. He forbade me from even speaking his name. The gala wound down. Carter walked out with Adrian. As they passed me, Carter turned his head, his dark eyes boring into mine. I kept my expression frozen. I didn’t even blink. Only when they disappeared out the door did the tension in the room lift. The gossip immediately shifted to Carter. Mentioning his fiancée, someone sighed enviously. “Vanessa Vanderbilt. A real heiress. The hardest thing that girl has ever had to do is choose a latte flavor.” “Born with a silver spoon, childhood sweethearts with Carter… that diamond on her finger costs more than my life insurance. And did you hear about the car he bought her?” “I heard a rumor,” someone whispered, lowering their voice. “Carter dated some poor girl about three years ago. Two years together. But she made Vanessa cry once, and he dumped her the next day.” “Two years down the drain just like that? That’s cold.” “It gets worse. To vent his anger for Vanessa, he basically ran the girl out of the city. But apparently, she was from a trashy family with a bad reputation. Probably just a gold digger.” The room filled with judgmental sighs. I lowered my eyes, catching bits and pieces of the conversation. It was half true, half false. It was true that Carter dumped me because of Vanessa. But he didn’t run me out of town. He just thought I was too shameful to be seen with. He flew out of the country the day we broke up without even saying goodbye. Two years of love, ending in humiliation. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I grabbed my bag to leave, but someone asked: “Two years? And he didn’t feel bad at all?” 3 No. Carter was ruthless. He was so cruel that for a long time after, I questioned if the gentle, polite man I first met was even the same person. I realized later, he started changing the moment Vanessa came back from Europe. He took me to meet his inner circle. The private lounge was filled with people he’d known since kindergarten. Old money. They greeted me politely enough. Except for Vanessa. She scanned me from head to toe like I was a bad investment. That was the first time I met her. Beautiful, but icy. We didn’t speak the entire night. Until the end, when she finally acknowledged my existence. “What a coincidence.” “I heard you and Carter haven’t been dating long, but your mother suddenly got sick, and you needed money urgently?” I froze. Carter had helped me with medical bills. But I had already paid him back. The night I accepted Carter’s confession, I had actually regretted it. Carter Sterling, the heir to the Sterling empire, and “poverty” didn’t belong in the same sentence. But he had buried his face in my neck, his voice thick with emotion, asking, “Are you sure? Do you really want to leave me?” The speech I prepared died in my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was powerless against the chemistry. Later, I refused his expensive gifts. I couldn’t afford to owe him anything else. But how did Vanessa know about the medical bills? Before I could speak, Vanessa laughed lightly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s pocket change to us.” “I’m just making conversation. Don’t take it to heart.” I stood there, stunned. Carter glanced at her, his expression unreadable. Vanessa looked up at him, smiling with her eyes. They didn’t speak, but a silent communication passed between them. That was the first time I felt it. The wall. Later, while shopping, I stared at a pair of earrings. They would have looked perfect on my mom. “They’re beautiful,” Vanessa said, appearing beside me. “You like them?” “Carter should just buy them for you.” The group of friends chuckled. They stood in the light. I stood in their shadow. I looked at Carter. I couldn’t articulate the humiliation I felt, but I desperately hoped he would stand up for me. Just one word. Say, Elena never asked me for anything. Say, Elena isn’t who you think she is. I watched him. Vanessa watched him. It felt like a century passed. Finally, Carter spoke. He glanced indifferently at the earrings. “If you want something, just ask next time.” “Pick whatever else you like.” The world spun. I gripped the counter, trying to see the real man behind that mask of indifference. But all I saw in those beautiful eyes was the same look Vanessa had. Arrogance. They were exactly the same. 4 After that day, we entered a cold war. I didn’t contact Carter. But Vanessa came to find me. “You forgot the earrings you were staring at. Carter told me to bring them to you.” She looked at my mother and laughed. “This is your mom?” “You used her illness as an excuse to borrow money from Carter, didn’t you?” “What’s the excuse next time?” “Sickness gets old. Maybe you two should brainstorm a new scam. Your mother looks like she has more experience…” Every word was a dagger into my mother’s heart. Her face went pale. I didn’t let her finish. I shoved Vanessa hard. “Shut your mouth!” Vanessa fell. Her wrist scraped the floor, and she teared up instantly. Her friends arrived that night. They blocked my doorway, demanding an apology. “Vanessa was the one insulting us! Why should I apologize?” “Fine. Don’t apologize. Pay up.” A man leaned against the wall, laughing. “Though I doubt you can afford the medical bill for her wrist.” They were merciless. “Face it. You’re just in it for Carter’s money. Was Vanessa wrong?” “Stop pretending.” “Name your price. We’ll pay you to leave Carter alone.” I was shaking with rage. Just as I was about to scream, Carter arrived. The crowd dispersed immediately. When the footsteps faded, the hallway was quiet. Vanessa must have cried to him already. I assumed he was here to make me apologize too. Or mock me. I clenched my fists, staring at him. But Carter didn’t mention Vanessa. He spoke calmly. “I heard your mother isn’t feeling well?” “Do you need money?” His tone was gentle, but the implication was cruel. He believed them. I realized then: either I never knew Carter, or he had changed completely. When I didn’t answer, he shoved something into my hand. A black card. Cold against my skin. “If you need anything else, just ask.” My mother was sitting on the sofa, listening. Her fingers dug deep into the cushions. I couldn’t look at her. “Get out,” I choked out. I threw the card and the man out the door. We broke up. Carter didn’t give me the card again. Instead, he kept sending gifts. One evening, I came home to find my door open. A neighbor was walking out. “Your daughter is something else. She’s got the looks to make it pay, huh? Those things look expensive.” “Finally letting you live the good life.” I froze. The living room table was piled high with luxury bags and jewelry. The silence was deafening. My mother sat on the sofa, staring at the pile. She didn’t ask. She didn’t speak. After a long time, she closed her eyes. “Elena… sometimes I wish I hadn’t survived that accident.” My eyes turned red instantly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389275”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was scrolling through a forum while waiting for my test results at the hospital when a question caught my eye: “What’s the most thrilling thing you’ve ever done?” An anonymous user commented: “Going through a divorce, sleeping with my lawyer’s husband, and now I’m pregnant with his child.” “She’s so buried in legal statutes, she has no idea I’m the one that got away, his first love.” “Even better? I control his finances now, and she’s completely in the dark.” “Oh, and that woman is pregnant, too. I told him I couldn’t stand the thought of her child being born. He promised he’d convince her to get rid of it, citing developmental issues.” “He’s mine. So is his money.” At the edge of the accompanying photo, a watch was faintly visible. My blood ran cold. That watch… it was identical to the one on my husband’s wrist. Just then, the door to my room swung open. My husband walked in, his voice as gentle as ever. “Honey, the doctor said… the baby isn’t developing well. For your own health, maybe we shouldn’t keep this one.” 01 The corner of the report was crumpled in his tight grip. I unfolded it, my eyes locking on the words “Suggested Termination.” My throat tightened. “Is that… really what the doctor said?” His gaze darted around the room, never once meeting mine. He just murmured, “You weren’t careful, you took that medication.” “Just to be safe, it’s for the best.” A sharp pain bloomed in my chest, shattering the last shred of hope I was clinging to. But before the wave of emotion could drown my reason, professional instinct took over. I forced myself to detach. I did a quick mental calculation. My physical condition and the medication I’d recently taken meant keeping the baby was a risk. I had to protect myself first. Finally, I nodded. Seeing my crestfallen expression, he moved closer, taking my hand. He soothed me with a warm voice, “Honey, we can always have another baby. Your health is what’s most important.” What a hypocrite. I pulled my arm away and turned my back to him. “I’m tired. I need to rest.” And just like that, with a few careless words, he had discarded the child we had longed for. In ten years of marriage, he had always been the perfect husband. But I had just learned that he was playing the same devoted role for another woman. The anonymous comment had already exploded into a full-blown flame war. The replies were split into three camps: those who called her a homewrecking monster, those who romanticized their “fated love,” and those who speculated that I must have stolen him away first, claiming they couldn’t judge without knowing the whole story. The first thing I did after being discharged was pull up that post and read every single word. Four months ago, Isabelle Croft was fighting for a divorce. I was her lawyer. And through her, I was reunited with Marcus. [My lawyer didn’t just win my case; she brought my first love back to me. What a godsend.] [The day of the hearing, her husband dropped her off. I knew it was him the second I saw him. My first love. And from the way he looked at me, I knew he’d never forgotten.] [After we won, I went to their house to thank her. I cornered him in the kitchen and kissed him against the counter.] [As I was leaving, he made up an excuse to get my number.] [He started finding reasons to see me, saying he wanted to celebrate me finally getting away from my scumbag ex.] [We talked so much about the past, about why we broke up. He cried.] [Seeing his eyes glistening with tears, I leaned in and kissed him, and then… we just did it.] [Later, he saw me arguing with my ex about the settlement money and got angry. He said if I needed money, I should have just asked him, that I didn’t need to degrade myself.] [I never wanted to destroy his family. His wife helped me, and I’ll always be grateful for that…] [But he told me he never really got over me. He said he only agreed to the blind date with her back then because she looked a little like me.] [Before I could even figure out what to do, I found out I was pregnant. I guess it was fate.] I stared at the screen, my nails digging so deep into my palms they nearly drew blood. Twenty-two and thirty-two. A decade lies between those years. From cramming for the bar exam side-by-side to propping each other up as we started our careers; from sharing a single bowl of instant noodles in a cramped apartment to owning a home of our own. Everyone called us the picture-perfect couple, a match made in heaven. I never once doubted that we were each other’s one and only. But it turned out our decade of love was nothing but a mirage. I remembered four months ago, when a distraught Isabelle was about to jump off the West End Bridge, and I was the one who talked her down. Later, I took her case and fought to get her the best possible settlement. I also remembered the strange way Marcus froze the first time he saw her. I’d even joked about it. “What are you staring at? You smitten or something?” He was quiet for a long moment before murmuring, “She… reminds me of a friend who’s no longer with us.” I didn’t suspect a thing. I even comforted him. “Life is unpredictable. You never know when you’ll see someone for the last time.” He hummed in agreement, pulling me into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around me. That night, he had whispered in my ear, “You have to promise you’ll always stay safe, right by my side.” At the time, I thought he was just being sentimental, leaning on me for comfort. Looking back, it was probably the thrill of touching a ghost from his past. Or maybe, it was the unease of a guilty conscience. A new comment appeared at the bottom of the thread. [His wife’s procedure went smoothly. Next up, dividing the assets.] [He said he has plenty of ways to make sure she leaves with nothing. After all, he knows exactly how to handle her.] […I really am sorry, but I can’t help it.] I read that last line and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Isabelle, have you forgotten how we met? I’ve handled countless divorce cases. And I have never, ever lost. 02 As a lawyer with over a decade of experience, digging up information was second nature to me. It didn’t take long to piece together the whole ugly picture from the digital breadcrumbs they’d left behind. In just four short months, Marcus had poured all his energy into Isabelle. All that was left for me were lies and manipulation. Four months ago, shortly after filing Isabelle’s case, I’d pulled several all-nighters gathering evidence and ended up with acute gastritis. Marcus said he was on his way. I waited for four hours. The IV drip finished, and he never showed. Now I know why. He was so worried something would happen to Isabelle that he stayed by her side all night. Then there was the high-profile case I took on, the one that made the news. I was targeted by the defendant’s family. I was attacked and hospitalized, frantically calling his phone, but he never picked up. Because he was with Isabelle, taking a trip down memory lane at their old university, reliving their teenage romance. After the attack, I was left with severe anxiety and trauma, walking around in a constant daze. He canceled all his work to be with me during that time. He put me first in everything, planned little surprises, and surrounded me with a sense of security. My favorite gift was a custom necklace. He said it had a GPS tracker so he could always find me. Turns out, it was just a mass-produced freebie from a brand event he and Isabelle had attended together. The treasure I cherished was just a cheap party favor from one of their dates. It was all a calculated act to monitor me, a way to prevent his secret from ever coming out. I watched a video of them, surrounded by people, laughing together. My fingers slowly curled into a fist. The worst part? Our mutual friends, every single one of them, knew. No one warned me. No one said a word. The dinner parties continued, the likes on social media kept coming. They all tacitly agreed to ignore my existence. But it was what I found next that sent a true chill down my spine, plunging me into an icy abyss. It was a neatly organized document titled: Evidence Chain Regarding Attorney Audrey Lane’s Improper Use of the ‘XX Case’ for Self-Promotion. It contained my home address, social security number, place of employment, and dozens of clear photos of me. The document was created a month before I was attacked. And I found it on Marcus’s computer. A note inside read: This person is a glory-hound, using a major news story to build her own brand and manipulate public sympathy. Below that was a screenshot of Isabelle’s social media. She had reposted the message that leaked my private information. The image attached was a scan of my ID. Her caption read: [I can’t believe the lawyer I respected so much is this kind of person. I really hope someone teaches her a lesson.] Someone replied below: “You sure it’s her?” Her response was a single word: “Yes.” A roar filled my ears. The attack I’d suffered wasn’t random at all. They had worked together, leaking my personal information, deliberately putting me in harm’s way. The storm of online harassment and public condemnation that followed wasn’t a coincidence either. It was them, meticulously, step by step, pushing me to the edge. How is that any different from murder? I laughed until my eyes burned with tears. All the little pieces I had dismissed came rushing back, sharp and jagged: The faint scent of an unfamiliar perfume on his clothes. The hushed phone calls on the balcony late at night. His overly attentive behavior after I was attacked… What I had believed to be love. It was just a carefully measured dose of poison. I wiped my eyes fiercely. Fine. If he wanted to play this elaborate, cruel game, then I would be more than happy to play along. As a lawyer, I knew exactly what it took to utterly destroy someone. I opened my laptop and began compiling the evidence I had gathered. Marcus’s asset transfer records, proof of his affair with Isabelle, the email logs tracing the leak of my personal information… It was more than enough to build a complete evidence chain for a criminal complaint. Just as my thoughts were racing, my phone rang. It was Isabelle. I took a deep breath and answered. Her voice, light and smiling, came through the phone. “Audrey, it’s me. I’m having a little party this weekend to celebrate my… well, my new beginning. I especially want to thank you for everything you did for my case. You absolutely have to come.” Her tone was sincere, but then she added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, by the way, Marcus promised he’d be there too. You’ll grace us with your presence, won’t you, Audrey?” She slowly recited an address. It was only twenty minutes from my law firm. I listened to the flawless blend of intimacy and calculation in her voice and smiled without a sound. Thank me? The audacity was staggering. “Of course,” I said, my voice perfectly steady. “I’ll be there.” They were so eager to put on a show, right under my nose. A celebration of a new beginning? Perfect. Let’s see if they can stomach the feast I have planned for them.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “389291”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel